Gavroche stood next to the barricade, pushing a chair into place hear the top. He had just finished when the National Guard started firing. Gavroche joined the others in firing over the top with his gun when Grantaire pulled him down. "Gavroche, what on earth do you think you're doing here? This isn't your job! You're too young! Go home!"
There were those words again. "You're too young." He'd been told that time and time again, yet he wasn't too young! He'd been through more than anyone here, he knew. He lived on the streets, for crying out loud!
"This is my home, Grantaire! And I'm not leaving you all behind!"
"You'll leave if I make you."
"How will you know where I live?" Gavroche wanted to know.
"Get home." Grantaire shoved him away from the barricade.
"I have no home. This is my home, and I'm not leaving it!"
Grantaire stared at him piteously. "Fine. You can stay. But stay here." He walked up to an old chest, next to which Enjolras and Joly were resting.
"What're you doing, Grantaire?" Enjolras asked. Then he saw Gavroche and stood. "Kid, get home. This is no place for you."
"This is my home!" Gavroche exclaimed defiantly.
"Here. Sleep in here." Grantaire spread a coat in the bottom of the chest and lay the boy in it. "And don't wake up until someone gets you!" He pulled the small tricolor off the boy's jacket and dropped it on a chair.
"If it's a National Guard member, deny you know anything about it. Understood?"
Gavroche nodded, yet he didn't plan to follow those instructions.
The fateful hour soon came, and the little boy was awakened by Grantaire, who lay some bread next to him and told him to eat, then walked away after replacing the doors back. He accidentally hadn't closed them properly, so Gavroche was able to slip out and hear their conversation.
He knew that they were talking about ammunition. There was little left.
Someone had the brilliant idea to go out and gather some from dead National Guard soldiers.
Gavroche set his sights on a small hole that only he could reach.
He climbed up the barricade, retrieving his tricolor.
And little people know
when little people fight
We may look easy pickings
but we've got some bite
"Someone get him down from there!" he heard a shout, but he ducked through just as a pair of arms tried to grab him.
So never kick a dog
Because he's just a pup
But we'll fight like twenty armies
And we won't give up!
He enclosed his hands around a handful of bullets, holding tightly to them as a shot was fired. He cried out, but continued to gather.
But you better watch out for when the pup grows...
Another shot was fired. He fell to the ground. The final thing he saw was a bunch of people shouting for him, and Grantaire's eyes staring into his own, whispering his name.
Enjolras looked over at Grantaire, who was crying.
"Only the good die young." he whispered, lifting the body from the cobblestones and lying it next to Eponine's. "And if we were all half as good as Gavroche, the world would be a better place.
-RIP Gavroche, the bravest revolutionary.