~Enjolras~

"Look here! This man is their leader! It was he who killed the artillery man! Let us shoot him now!"

"Shoot me," the rebel replied, seemingly fearlessly, proudly, majestically, honorably, and boldly. It became clear at this moment that the young revolutionary leader was ready to die for the Revolution, for freedom, and for all of his dead friends.

All of the others had been killed. Enjolras alone was still alive. His rebellion had failed, the barricade had fallen, and all of his friends had died. Enjolras had watched them each fall one by one, watched them cry out in agony as bullets, and swords, and bayonets pierced their bodies, as they fell to the ground, and as they died in a pool of their own blood. They were all dead. Marius, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Joly, Jehan, Bossuet, and Bahorel had fought along side Enjolras at the barricade, and they had all fallen. Enjolras watches them all die, in horror, in fear, in panic, and in pain. But in the midst of the raging battle, he had not time to grieve for them.

He had managed to take shelter in the upper room of the Musain Cafe, where his friends used to meet, talk, laugh, joke, drinking, gamble, and play during the day, although Enjolras never took part in these activities, and plan in hushed voices for the rebellion during the night. Enjolras had stood alone, weapon-less, vulnerable, defenseless, and helpless before the window in this room for a full three minutes, which gave him enough time to think. He had nothing in his hand save for the red flag, the symbol of the rebellion, the banner of the Friends of the ABC.

Now the rebellion was dead. All of his friends were dead. But now he knew that they were in a better place. In the land of freedom that they had always wished the earth to be. Now they had died for the sake of freedom. Now they were martyrs of the Revolution. Perhaps, others would rise to take their place and keep fighting. The rebellion had failed, but it was not in vain. Enjolras was grieved by his friends' deaths, but he knew that this was not the end. Now his friends were with God. Now they were free. Enjolras was ready to join them.

"Take aim!" the sergeant ordered, and several guns were aimed at Enjolras.

"Wait!" an officer stopped the guns, holding up a hand. Then he looked upon Enjolras and asked, "Do you wish your eyes blindfolded?"

Enjolras answered calmly and certainly, not a hint of fear or regret in his voice. "No."

"Was it really you who killed the sergeant of artillery?"

"Yes."

The officer turned back to the soldiers and ordered them, "Take aim!"

He braced himself for the impact and for the pain. Enjolras had never been afraid to die. In fact, he had always been ready to die for freedom and for justice. But now that he stood before these guns, now that he stared Death in his repulsive face and in his hungry eyes, Enjolras was afraid. His insides turned to snakes and began to wriggle within his gut, his lungs began to breathe rapidly as if he had been running for a long time, and his heart began to race and it pounded against his ribcage like the hammer pounding the anvil. Those moments of waiting, of waiting for death, were terrible. But when looking upon him, none of these men could have guesses that Enjolras was at all afraid.

"Vive la République!" Enjolras cried out in a loud, bold, brave voice, and then he raised the red flag high above his head, lifting up the symbol of the Revolution, the symbol of freedom, and the symbol of the Friends of the ABC one last time.

Just as the officer was shouting the order to fire, Enjolras heard another voice cry out from somewhere within the room. "No! Wait! Don't shoot!" Then, for less than a second, he saw the figure of a man step between him and the guns, holding out his hands as if this could keep the bullets from going any farther. Whoever this man was, he was trying to prevent Enjolras from being killed. But he was too late. Just as he was stepping between Enjolras and Death, the guns went off, and a deafening roar like thunder, like a storm, like the wrath of God, sounded within the Musain Café.