Author's Note: I love this play. I especially love this moment in the play/musical, when Enjolras screams "the people will rise again" before being shot and killed. This is the best/most moving part, except for the finale. I don't know how good this is - I just wrote it on a whim. But I hope it's emotional enough. Please review.

{Rose Diamund}

The People Will Rise

Gunshots cut through the silent, black night. Enjolras wiped sweat from his brow, taking a few gasping breathes. Time was priceless. The night was so hot and muggy. Enjolras turned to the men firing back at the police, "Hold fire!" He commanded sharply, shouting over the gunshots. "Take cover!"

He kneeled down, staring through a small crack at the men firing towards them. A man crouched beside him, and he could barely make out his friend, Marius Pontmercy. "Enjolras, we can never win this," Marius said, a twinge of fear reading in his eyes, "I cannot allow these men to go on a suicide mission, Enj – "

"Marius," Enjolras put his hand on his friend's shoulder, "This is a cause worth fighting for. Freedom, Marius. I will let my blood be spilt for a cause such as this."

"And all the rest? Would you have their blood spilt?"

There was a determined spark in Enjolras's eyes, "Marius, you are a good man. An honest man. But you know nothing of the world. This is the revolution that will change our lives, Marius. We will rise, Marius. We will be what we wish to be. My blood may splatter these pavements, but my soul with carry on with the people. You can be sure of that."

Marius nodded.

Enjolras gave him a quick smile, "Good luck, my old friend. And perhaps, goodbye." He stood, and called out to the men, "Fire!" He shouted.

The gunshots multiplied. Marius stared, and he bit his lip hard, until the point where he tasted blood. He aimed his gun, wincing as he heard a body fall behind him with an agonizing cry. He pulled his trigger, not able to tell if he had hit anybody. The night was far too black. He knew Enjolras was somewhere near him; he could hear his friend's rough voice calling to the men.

In an instant, Marius felt searing pain surge through his upper leg. He crumpled down on his back, out of the range of fire. His hands immediately found the wounded place, and he felt warm, thick liquid quickly escaping a small bullet hole in his leg. He'd been shot! Marius heard someone calling his name, whether it was all in his mind, he never found out. His vision began to blur, and within moments his breathing became raspy as pain coursed through him and he realized something that make his heart sink, and tears come to his eyes.

These men didn't stand a chance.

Enjolras hardly dared to breathe, he heard the screams of pain from his mean, as they dropped like flies around him. He took a shaky breath, and fired once more. Over the barricades, he could see Gavroche's body. A tear sprang to his eye. God, the boy was so young. And even he had been clutched by death's evil grip.

As every man here would.

But God damn it they would rise! They would always rise above, for the freedom they deserved! The people would have their reward! He heard another scream of agony and terror, and he tried to see through the dark night, trying desperately to aim.

But the gunshots coming at them were relentless. He could hardly breathe in this muggy night air. He looked back at the men who had once been fighting.

They lay in heaps on top of one another, the faces of those men who would fight for the people. Who would fight for freedom! And now, they lay silent. Condemned to forever be in darkness. Battered. Beaten. Bloody.

Dead.

Enjolras knew in that moment, that soon he would be like all those other men. He would have fallen like all these people. Eponine the first of all of them. And now… it had led to all this.

But he would fight until the end for his reward, as he had sworn. His soul would rise once more with the people, and he would find his way into the light. He would live again in freedom in the Garden of the Lord. As all the men here would.

As all the men here deserved to.

And in one moment, Enjolras realized he was the last man standing in the barricades. Just as the bullet piece through his heart, he let out this one last cry. Not a cry of fear. Not one of desperation. But a promise. He cried it so that all the men firing at him would hear it.

"THE PEOPLE WILL RISE AGAIN!"