A Grief That Can't Be Spoken
1 - We Live, But You Are Gone
A/N: I'd be greatly surprised if this has not been done already. Modern AU, basic reverse of canon; Marius is the only one to die.
~~::.::~~
"Hey, Marius."
As usual, there's nothing but silence from the gravestone, but Courfeyrac likes talking aloud anyway. He always has loved the sound of his own voice. His mouth is curved into his usual, easy smile, but there's a tightness to his expression, grief shining clear in his eyes, and his voice is soft and low.
"It's been a year now... wow, a year. It seems... like so much longer, but also no time at all, you know? Like it was just yesterday that I walked into the apartment and you were there being your dork of a self and grinning like an idiot 'cause you were sending sappy texts to Cosette." Courfeyrac chuckles slightly, shifting his feet, turning the bouquet of flowers in his hands. "She's fine. I mean, she's still sad – we all are, we miss you, we really do – but... but she's coping. And she's got Ep to look after her. They look after each other. They're really close now, you know. I mean, they were great friends before but now they're inseparable."
Courfeyrac pauses for a moment, a brief respite where usually there'd be a response. Maybe something along the lines of how strong they are – because Marius has always been very proud of his girls, how strong and brave they are – and maybe a joke about how he should never have let them be friends because he was fairly certain his girlfriend was going to leave him for his best friend.
Best friend after you, of course, Courf, he'd add as Courfeyrac pulled a dramatic routine of a hurt gasp and a hand over his heart.
"Everyone else is getting better too. Joly's stopped pulling out his hair, and he isn't doing his manic-medic rounds anymore. I think Bossuet's relieved about that." Joly had been a wreck for a couple of months after the accident. As the group's medic, he'd felt some sort of responsibility. "Enjolras is still a bit of a mother-hen at rallies, doesn't like letting us out of his sight, especially if things are getting a bit rough. He goes ballistic at us, but he's just worried, y'know? Hey, you'll never guess – well, okay, maybe you would, I mean it's been as obvious as the sun in the sky for years now – but him and Grantaire got together, a few months back. And he made the first move, too. You owe me twenty, Pontmercy." Courfeyrac laughs, and imagines the face Marius would pull at him as he hands over twenty euros. His nose would scrunch up and he'd whine a little, but still press the money into Courfeyrac's palm.
Courfeyrac's laughter dies, and he hunches into himself slightly. He becomes small, quiet, sombre – his clear blue eyes shine a little, and he bites on his bottom lip to keep it from wobbling.
"I really miss you, man." He whispers, his voice breaking slightly. "I still can't believe that... that I knew you for so long, lived with you for five years, you were like a brother to me and... a-and then suddenly, you're not here anymore." He sniffs, and takes a deep shuddering breath. His gaze transfers from the ground at his feet to the grey clouds in the sky. "I had to sell the apartment. I went back there a few times and I-... I half expected you to come back, just walk in through the door. I couldn't stand it being empty. So I've moved in with Ferre and Jehan. It's nice, having them there with me all the time. Finding a big enough bed was a pain."
His eyes search the sky, as if hoping he'd be able to find Marius there. Eventually he looks down, back at the gravestone in front of him – "En mémoire de Marius Pontmercy, 15 août 1992 - 6 juin 2013; Il va beaucoup nous manquer." – and sighs, rubbing his eyes clear of the gathering tears.
"I'd better get back. Jehan will go spare if I'm missing too long. Everyone'll be over to see you soon, but... I wanted a bit of time to talk to you on my own." Courfeyrac nodded, smiling slightly again. He bent down to carefully place the flowers, arranging them carefully. "Jehan helped pick out the bouquet. You know he knows more about flowers than I do. White carnations and pink roses, there's a meaning in there somewhere."
He stands up again and steps back from the grave.
"Well, I'll talk to you soon, Marius." He murmurs quietly, and lingers for only a moment before he tears himself away and heads home.
~~::.::~~
A/N: Tombstone reads "In memory of Marius Pontmercy, 15th August 1992 - 6th June 2013; He will be greatly missed."
White carnations - remembrance
Pink roses - friendship
Hopefully those are right and the bouquet does vaguely mean what I was aiming for.
Well, there are three more chapters of this, and they go backwards (I'm experimenting to see how it works). I'll see you tomorrow for the update.