Eponine's ears still rang even after the final canon was fired and the last musket was discharged. The barricade was taken and she seemed to be the only rebel still alive out of the hundred that began the fight.
The National Guard swarmed the barricade, looking for survivors and forcing Eponine to sink back into the shadows of the café. She began to look for Marius, hoping he would still be alive but all of the faces she came across were unfamiliar or too bloody to be recognized. The soldiers were starting to make their way into the café so Eponine decided to risk climbing the mangled steps up to the second story of the Corinth in hopes of having more luck there.
She didn't.
To her dismay, Eponine could name most of the students who lay dead on the second floor. She remembered their personalities and voices … all of them had been very kind to her. As she stepped over the bodies, leaning down occasionally to see if any of them still had a pulse, she felt a presence behind her. Eponine turned to face the back wall but immediately shut her eyes. The leader of the rebellion was leaning against the wall, nailed to it with the bullets that had pierced him. What was his name? Oh, yes.
"Enjolras." Eponine whispered, opening her eyes again.
She didn't know the man very well, he rarely spoke to her but when he did, she felt like his equal. Eponine liked that feeling very much.
She made her way over to the leader and saw that at his feet lay another man. Eponine remembered Grantaire very well; always drunk but never rude, at least not to her.
She had just bent down to examine Grantaire when she heard a noise. It sounded a little like wind but the window was all the way on the other side of the room and Eponine saw that it wasn't open. Her heartbeat quickened, it wasn't wind, it was someone breathing. She leaned down closer to Grantaire to hear if it was coming from him but he remained quiet and still. Eponine stood up and looked at Enjolras, she saw that his chest was quickly and unevenly rising and falling.
He was alive.
Eponine moved closer to the leader and hesitantly moved to put two of her fingers on his neck like she'd seen Joly, the medical student, do on occasion. As soon as her fingers touched his skin, Enjolras's eyes snapped open; he inhaled a ragged lung full of air and dropped to the floor on his knees.
Startled by his sudden revival, Eponine had fallen backwards and scooted back a few feet, unsure of what to do.
Enjolras seemed as stunned as she was that he was alive and remained slightly unbalanced on his knees with his hard blue eyes fixed on Eponine. He didn't say anything but soon his face contorted into a painful grimace, he wrapped his arms slowly around his bloody stomach and let out an involuntary whimper.
This snapped Eponine out of her stunned silence and she crawled a few inches forward. "Enjolras, do you remember me? I'm Eponine." She tried to meet his gaze but she was unable to tear her eyes away from the blood on his waistcoat and jacket that was now slowly trickling over his arms. "Just breathe," she said to both Enjolras and herself.
Enjolras closed his eyes and bowed his head, not answering any of her questions but Eponine could see that he was trying to control his breathing. Good, at least he was processing what she was saying.
She moved a little closer, "Can you move at all?"
If Enjolras was going to rely, it didn't matter because Eponine heard the National Guard getting ready to climb the steps. Panic washed over her and she looked to Enjolras for guidance but realized he was in no position to give orders anymore.
Eponine moved out of the center of the room and towards a sidewall. "Enjolras," she called quietly, "please, you have to lay back down."
At the sound of his name and the desperation in Eponine's voice, Enjolras brought his head back up and looked at her.
"Do you understand?" Eponine could hear the guard approaching the entrance of the room, "Enjolras, they cannot see you alive. Lay down!"
At the last possible second she followed her own orders and played dead. Eponine prayed that Enjolras had done the same, though she was surprised that she cared so much about a man she hardly knew. Maybe it was because she knew that if Marius was dead, she would be alone or maybe it was the way Enjolras had stared at her. He was a strong, passionate leader who had been reduced to a helpless, bloody student. He needed help and Eponine wanted to help him.
It seemed like hours before the National Guard left the room, one of the soldiers mentioned that they would return later to collect the dead which gave Eponine a little more time to try and get Enjolras out.
When the last soldier was gone, Eponine hoisted herself off the ground and looked over to where Enjolras was laying on the floor. Her heart pounded harder, he looked like he was actually dead.
She walked over to him, feeling relieved when she saw the staggered rise and fall of his chest.
Lowering to her knees she gently touched his shoulder and spoke, "Enjolras, they are gone."
His eyes slowly opened, when he focused on Eponine he sat up a little and pulled himself away from her.
Eponine frowned. "I'm not a soldier." She felt ridiculous for stating the obvious but she was unsure if his mind was functioning properly.
Enjolras opened his mouth to speak but only a painful gasp came out. He clutched his stomach and released a choking cough that made Eponine moved a little closer to him out of concern.
"Enjolras?"
He suddenly turned away from her and continued his mangled coughing until he vomited blood. Eponine's stomach churned and she struggled to keep herself together.
For the first time, she heard Enjolras's voice. It was so quiet and strained and broken that she couldn't make out what he said.
She scooted closer to him, "What did you say?"
Enjolras turned back around, there was blood in his teeth and he kept eyes on the floor. "I am sorry."
Was he apologizing for becoming ill in front of her?
"There is no need to be sorry." She said.
Enjolras didn't respond. He removed his arm away from his stomach and looked down at his waistcoat and jacket. It took him a while to process the extent of his injuries and he started to try and wipe away the blood as if it were a stain. Eponine had never seen Enjolras act any way other than strong and fearless, so this state he was reduced to was startling to her. She refused to pity him, knowing full well that he wouldn't like that, and decided instead to make herself useful and help him.
Eponine gently grabbed Enjolras's arm to stop him from the ineffectual task of trying to wipe the blood from his garments.
"Stop," she said firmly. "Where have you been shot?"
She guessed somewhere in the lung or upper stomach, since his breathing with very uneven and he'd just thrown up blood but she needed him to focus and give an answer.
Enjolras removed his arm from her grasp and managed to say, "Everywhere."
Eponine didn't know whether to take his response seriously or dismiss it as an effect of blood loss. Apparently, Enjolras could see the doubt on her face. He clumsily untied the cravat from around his neck and pulled open his waistcoat and jacket with a grunt of discomfort. Eponine failed to suppress a small gasp; there were at least eight holes in his pure white shirt, which had itself, turned different shades of scarlet and maroon.
Enjolras repeated through gritted teeth, "Everywhere."
Eponine shook her head, reached out and closed his jacket around him and started to button it. "You are going to be fine."
Enjolras removed her hands from the buttons, "No. You cannot help me."
"Then maybe I should just leave you here," Eponine snapped out of desperation.
Enjolras didn't say anything; he just stared at her like he had before and Eponine realized that he wasn't going to protest her threat.
She frowned. "Do you want me to leave you here?"
Enjolras drew in a shaky breath. "I was ready to die, Eponine."
When he said her name she finally met his gaze and knew that he was serious.
"It's over." He continued, looking away from her and over to all of his dead friends. "We failed."
"Maybe, but you failed together," Eponine touched Enjolras's arm sympathetically, "and that's not failing at all."
This time Enjolras didn't try and remove her hand; he remained staring at his friends. "I can't leave them."
It was then that Eponine realized that helping Enjolras wasn't going involve getting him out of the Corinth. She tightened her grip on his arm and started to gently pull him back against the wall. Enjolras didn't protest the action; he pulled himself along with her until he felt the wall against his back. He groaned at the movement but Eponine saw him relax a little as he leaned his head back against the wall. As she looked at him, she pondered the life she was faced with. The only reason she was at the barricade was because of Marius and now he was either dead or with Cosette. Gavroche was dead which meant only a life of misery awaited her if she returned to her parents and the streets. She thought about how the only chance for her life to change was if the revolt had succeeded and now that it hadn't she didn't have much to go back to.
"Thank you for your help." Enjolras said, "you should leave before-"
His words were cut short as Eponine took a place beside him, mimicking his action of leaning against the wall.
Enjolras looked at her, shocked. "What are you doing?"
Eponine shrugged. "No one should have to die alone."
She never thought she would see Enjolras smile but to her comment, he did.
They waited at least thirty minutes for the Guard to come back to collect the dead. Within the first twenty, Enjolras had passed out from pain and blood loss and his head had fallen onto Eponine's shoulder.
That is how the National Guard found the two of them. They were surprised but didn't hesitate to pull out their weapons and wait for their commander's orders. Eponine shook Enjolras awake and whispered, "Enjolras, they are here."
He awoke with a start and when he saw who was in front of him he sat up the best he could.
One of the soldiers stepped forward and said, "You have rebelled directly against his majesty, the King. Have you anything to say to defend yourself?"
Enjolras glanced at Grantaire's still body and then turned back to the soldier, with a fire in his eyes. "Vive la Réublique. I belong to it."
The soldier shook his head and then looked at Eponine. "And you mademoiselle?"
"I belong to it also." She replied.
Once again the soldier shook his head, he stepped to the side and ordered his men to ready their firearms.
Eponine wasn't scared but she grabbed Enjolras's bloody hand and gently squeezed it. To her surprise, he reciprocated the action and turned to look at her one last time.
"I regret not knowing you better, Eponine."
The soldiers voice called out, "Aim!"
Eponine smiled at him. "Thank you for treated me as your equal when no one else did."
Enjolras squeezed her hand again. "We are all equal."
"Fire!"
There was a split second before the command was carried out and Eponine heard Enjolras say one last thing.
"Even when we are dead."
And he was right.