Hello everyone! If you're not here on accident, you might be here because you just finished my last modern AU story, "The Law of Love". I'm super sad that's over BUT I've had this idea bubbling around for a little over a month, and I'm so excited to finally get it up! Me and Jess (SleepingwithinWater) came up with the idea, bouncing plots off of each other one day when I was SUPPOSED to be working (oops). This was the result, after loooong talks and even longer emails/iphone notes. Hope you all enjoy!
Guilt: Prologue
In his privileged life, he had never heard gunshots.
This realization became clear to him as he exited the grocery store, arms laden with bags of food. For a moment, the Paris street was quiet, peaceful. All at once, three quick pops echoed through the air, and chaos erupted. Citizens and tourists alike fled the scene, unwitting screams ripping from their mouths as they desperately tried to escape the present danger.
Enjolras, however, had never been one to run from anything. He dropped his groceries unceremoniously to the ground, and ran into the street. He whipped around, searching for whoever had been shot. The possibility of danger did not fully register; the young lawyer was too focused on aid.
As his eyes scanned the panicked scene, his hand dug into his pocket, searching for his cell phone. He had never really understood the point of mobile devices (it had been Combeferre, fed up with always trying to find Enjolras, that had bought it for him). In this moment of life and death chaos, however, Enjolras was glad for the device.
When the phone was finally extracted from his pocket, Enjolras looked down to unlock the keyboard and dial the police. When his gaze lifted, his stomach dropped.
Gavroche.
Enjolras felt his throat close at the sight of the fourteen year old crumbled in the street. His legs were splayed at odd angles, his hands gripping his chest. Despite his efforts to staunch it, blood flowed across his fingers from the gunshot wound.
Enjolras nearly dropped his phone in shock. The voice of the dispatcher, however, prompted him to focus. He cleared his throat, his legs still carrying him to Gavroche's side.
"Yes, I'd like to report a shooting. We need an ambulance."
"What is your location?"
"The corner of Rue Medici and Rue Fontana." Enjolras said, glancing up to confirm the location.
"Have you been injured?"
Enjolras shook his head distractedly, pushing past the couple of tourists that had stopped. It seemed like it was taking an eternity to reach Gavroche's side.
"No, I was at the grocery store across the street when I heard the gun shots. He's…he's a fourteen year old kid."
"We have an ambulance en route to your location, sir. Do you know the victim?"
Enjolras swallowed the lump in his throat as he finally reached Gavroche's side. He had known the boy for almost five years, since he and his sister had joined their ragtag family.
Éponine…as much as she had been enveloped into their group, her primary concern had always been Gavroche. She had fought tooth and nail for custody of him when she turned eighteen, driving herself into deep debt to provide a stable home for her little brother. Gavroche had been only nine at the time.
Éponine worked three jobs and went to night classes for years, making sure there was always food on the table for Gavroche. She forced him to go to school daily, pointing out that his hero, Courfeyrac, would not be "as cool as he was" had he dropped out of school. Gavroche had obtained perfect attendance ever since.
Enjolras had helped Gavroche with his social studies homework many times over the past few years. He was always hanging out in the Musain, waiting for Éponine to get off of work. As the shadows of his previous life faded, Gavroche proved to be a bright and inquisitive learner who, at times, reminded Enjolras of himself.
And now, in an instant, he had been gunned down in broad daylight.
"Yes, I know him." Enjolras said, laying his hand on Gavroche's fingers, applying pressure to slow the bleeding. He scanned Gavroche's body, noting two other shallow wounds. Neither was bleeding as profusely as the gaping hole in his chest.
"Enj?"
This time, Enjolras did drop his phone. It clattered to the road, the battery falling out the back, effectively ending the phone call.
"Gavroche?" He asked frantically, pushing on the wound with urgency while leaning closer to Gavroche's face.
"Am I…die?" Gavroche questioned, his voice reduced to a whisper, his words jumbled. Enjolras cleared his throat and blinked rapidly to dispel the threatening tears.
"Nah, Gavroche, you'll be fine. I called an ambulance. Not that you even need it, you'll…you're fine."
"You sure?" Gavroche asked, his eyelids fluttering. Enjolras nodded vigorously, squeezing Gavroche's arm with his free hand.
"Of course I'm sure. Can you keep your eyes open for me?" Enjolras asked, his voice verging on hysteria. He looked up at the street. A couple pedestrians were watching from afar, but there was no sign of the ambulance.
"So tired." Gavroche mumbled, coughing slightly. Enjolras shook his arm again in desperation.
"Gav, tell me a story, or something. Anything."
"Whaddaya wanna hear?" Gavroche's words were slurred, though his eyes were open.
"I don't…something happy. Something…the best day ever." Enjolras said, his voice thin and desperate. If Gavroche was about to…no, he couldn't even think it. But if it happened…at least he might be content.
"Thas easy Enj, the day Courf brought me to the café."
Enjolras wouldn't have been able to hold back the tears if he tried. They flowed down his cheeks unchecked, splashing onto his clothes, onto Gavroche, and onto the pavement.
"Gavroche," Enjolras was struck with a sudden thought. "Who did this?"
"Huh?" Gavroche's consciousness was slipping, his eyes becoming unfocused and hazy.
"Gav, stay with me. Who did this? Who shot – "
Enjolras's question was left unfinished as he was unceremoniously ripped away from Gavroche. The boy weakly raised a hand toward Enjolras, who fought against the strong arms dragging him away. Gavroche disappeared from view as Enjolras was pulled down a side alley, out of sight.
Two minutes later, the smoke seemed to clear; the colors separating, the world coming back into focus. Two minutes was it all it took. Two minutes that he would scarcely remember later on. Two minutes that would complete change his life.
He had spoken to someone, the same someone that had pulled him away from the dying Gavroche. After, Enjolras had taken a deep breath and pushed himself off the brick wall with shaking arms. He did not look back. He focused on the end of the alley, and on putting one foot in front of the other.
'Coward,' he thought. It was never a word he would have used to describe himself. But now, it was all he could think of.
He tried to right the wrong in his own mind.
You had to. You had to leave. Greater good. You had a moral crisis, and you had to make a tough call.
As he rounded the corner, Enjolras felt the cold weight of his decision settle on his shoulders. He had left a boy to die, alone. Not just any boy either, one of his friends. How could he tell them? How could he tell her? He couldn't, that much was clear. Not only had he walked away, it had been for…no, he couldn't even think of it.
Coward or not, he knew that the guilt would haunt him for the rest of his life.
And there is the prologue! As you can probably tell, it's going to be a drama/mystery story, with a LOT of planned twists and turns throughout! Really excited for this! As always, let me know what you think, and I'd love to hear everyone's initial ideas for what happened in those TWO MINUTES that so drastically changed EVERYTHING for our favorite revolutionary. Thank you guys, as always, and I will see you soon! xoxo Brittany