Disclaimer: I don't own Les Miserables, the book, play, or the new movie. But I do own Victor Hugo.
Gavroche looked around him. The revolutionaries, his friends, were looking broken. Beaten. Ready to give up. But they couldn't give up. Gavroche couldn't allow it. It was becoming more and more apparent that they would not win this war. They were the only barricade left, and so many of them were wounded. Eponine was dead. Eponine had been close to a sister to Gavroche. But he didn't have time to cry for her. The child hadn't cried since he could remember. And somehow, Gavroche knew she was free. Free from her suffering. He could tell from the look on her face when she passed.
They were taking too much time. They needed bullets and needed them now. He heard Marius and the new volunteer arguing about who should go. "You need someone quicker, I volunteer!" Gavroche scrambled up the barricade. Joly ran after him, restrained by Marius and Enjolras. "No! Gavroche!" Joly yelled. "Get back here!" Enjolras yelled after Gavroche. But the boy only smirked. Apollo thought he could tell Gavroche what to do. No one could. The little revolutionary stood infront of the barricade. He looked forward towards the soldiers. No fear in the boys eyes. He began to pick up bullets, putting them in a bag.
A shot rang out, just skimming his shoulder. "Gavroche please! Please come back!" Joly begged from behind the barricade. Joly. Gavroche sighed, but did not go back. He knew now what was going to happen. What had to happen. He understood. He looked over at Joly with eyes swimming with tears. Joly had been his best friend. A big brother, and someone he always went to when he hadn't been able to steal any food for a day, or when it stormed and he couldn't stay out in the rain.
Gavroche stepped forward, collecting more bullets. He stared the soldiers in the eyes. 'Remember me.' was the only thing he could think. He wanted the soldiers to see him. To remember his face. Gavroche's thoughts were cut off by a bullet that landed in his shoulder, causing him to cry out. He could hear them all behind the barricade. Distressed and pained voices.
Enjolras was the one that kept them from climbing over. He knew that the only reason Gavroche was still alive was because he was a child. But if any of them tried to climb over, the soldiers would not hesitate to shoot.
Another shot rang out. And silence. The boy stood there, his eyes drifted down to look at the wound on his stomach. And Gavroche fell backwards. Dead. "NO!"
Joly grabbed his gun and shot blindly at the soldiers. He raced over the barricade before anyone could stop him and scooped up his fallen friend. He carried Gavroche back over the barricade, cradling the little boy and weeping openly over him. "Gavroche.. Gavroche please, please, no.." Joly wept. Enjolras stepped forward and closed the child's eyes. "He will not die in vain." Enjolras said, placing a hand on Joly's shoulder. "He will not be betrayed."
Joly laid Gavroche down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "We'll win, We'll win for you. I promise." Joly whispered to him. "You're so much more than just a child, Gavroche. You're a revolutionary. A warrior. And a damn good friend." said Joly. He pressed one last kiss to the little boy's forehead and walked back to the barricade, where his friends waited for him.