The time was around 1835, in a small town in Paris. One would believe that this town were beautiful, as Paris is always said to be lovely. This town was not lovely, for sure. The streets were cobblestone, moldy, dirty, and ruined beyond repair. The buildings were cramped, and almost in a worse condition than the streets. Around every corner you would turn, skinny and hungry street urchins would claw and grab at your dress or trousers, begging for even the peel of an apple. Abandoned children whose parents either dead or drunk hid behind crates or cans, with only the rats to keep them company.
Ah, yes. Truly a horrible place. You haven't seen hungry until you can see ribs clear as day. Usually, young men who didn't know better would offer a sou or two to an older homeless bastard, and come back later to find them surrounded with empty bottles that once contained alcohol. These were once supplied by the Thenardiers. A sneaky couple who once owned an inn, but nowadays were lucky to find a few spare franks on the ground. The two were ratty people. Ten years ago, they were so desperate for money, they traded their newborn son to a passing stranger, who later left the boy two hours later. Luckily, the young man, who later gave himself the name "Gavroche", survived. He was known around town for being the little cheeky brat who stole food from vendors, pickpocketed, and even flung the finger at the police from time to time. The little boy got away with it every time. Though he was a rotten little thief, he stole for the right reasons. For six years of his life, he found a new home in Nepoleon's unfinished elephant statue. He and twelve other orphan children lived there, and sense he new all the nooks and crannys of the town, he always stole it to keep these children fed.
But he was unavailable to them currently, for he was planning the fight against the rich with his new friends in Cafe Musain. They decided that they have had enough with the lack of equality. Currently in the Cafe, a young, handsome man was giving a speech to his comrades. Once he finished, a round of applause and cheers rang throughout the building. This boy's name was Enjolras. He seemed to be the only one there who understood just how important this battle was. He waved his hands above his head, silencing the chatter that stirred. He opened his mouth to say something again, until suddenly...
"Listen, listen! Everybody, listen to me!" The high voice matched with the sound of panicked footsteps. Everyone turned to see little Gavroche at the threshold. The boy solemnly took off his messanger cap and clutched it to his heart.
"General Lamarque is dead," He whispered, voice quivering and eyes filled with tears and horror, "I saw 'im die, right before my eyes. 'is illness was too strong, he had to let go." He finished. The room was so silent that a pin could be heard dropping to the floor. He sat despairingly beside Courfeyrac, still shivering.
"Lamarque is dead," repeated Enjolras. He stared at his feet, until a wave of realization hit him, "the sign! His death is the sign we await!" The students stared, wondering what he was talking about, until Fueilly stood up, knocking over his chair.
"Exactly! Everyone, everyone, don't you see? The sign! Gavroche, my boy! You've done it once again!" Fueilly exclaimed.
"Haha, that's it!" Everyone cried. Granitaire stood up from his chair and linked elbows with Combeferre. The two, (who were halariousy drunk at the time.) danced wildly, until they collapsed in their chairs once more. It's quite surprising how fast the mood may change in this cafe. Quite surprising indeed. Gavroche, who was terrified out of his wits seconds ago, was now smiling with delight. He swung his cap back onto his head and cheered with the others.
That night, Bousset and Fueilly had left. Grantaire was passed out in his chair from the massive intake of alcohol. Enjolras was reading over the revolution plans, with Marius pointing out mistakes or things they could improve. Comberferre was desperately trying to stay awake, but failed minutes later. Joly was by his side, shaking him awake if he dozed off. And in the back of the cafe, asleep on top of a table, was little Gavroche. What he was dreaming of, who knows. Courfeyrac noticed how still he was, and decided to take the little tyke to his home, just for the night. He gingerly slid his hands under his shoulders and knees, and lihind him up. He was getting big, Courfeyrac thought. He walked out of the cafe and flinched against the cold breeze that greeted him. Feeling the child stir in his arms, he hurried along so that he didn't freeze.
What if one day, he thought, I'll have to carry him like this to his coffin, and not to his bed?
When you were little, would you check outside your window every day for a chance of snow on the ground? When you saw the white stufthin the ground, didn't your heart just fill with joy? Well, today, Grantaire looked out of his window and groaned.
"Winter is comin' on fast..." He muttered to himself. He realized he was back in his house. He chuckled. He must have been drunk last night, Enjolras must have carried him home. He froze when he looked outside again, drawn by the patter of bare feet. He jumped to the sound of banging on his door.
"Gran'aire, open up tha' door!" cried his visitor. Recognizing Gavroche's voice, he rushed to the door, not caring that he had forgotten to put on a shirt. He swung open the door, pulled Gavroche inside, and slammed it shut.
"What...did you steal this time?" He asked the young boy, who was gasping for breath.
"A...an apple." Panted Gavroche. He stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a bruised and brown apple, "I knew no one would want it, and I saw a beggar on the street with a wee child...I felt bad, so I tried ta' steal an apple from a merchant. But before I could get it to 'er, that damned inspector came rushing around the corner."
"Watch your language, young man." Scolded Grantaire. Gavroche let out a "tch".
"Later on tonight, we can try ta' find her again. I'm proud of what ya' do fer' people, but stealing isn't ta' right choice." Grantaire said.
"Yer' soundin' like Enjolras again. You need to stop tryin' to act like 'im so much." said the boy who sat next to him. Grantaire nodded. He tried to be mature, tried to have authority, tried to be like Enjolras. He couldn't. He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts when a fierce knock sounded from the door.
"This is the police! Open the door!"
Gavroche turned white. "Hide me! Where can I go?!" Grantaire snatched him up and carried him to his study.
"You're small enough to fit in here." He decided, and stuffed Gavroche in a desk cabinet.
"Open the door or we'll open it for you!"
Grantaire quickly put on his best shirt and walked to the door. He opened the door slowly.
"Hmm? Oh, the constables. What it's it you need?" he asked, faking a rich British accent.
"That little brat, have you seen him?"
"Who, monsieur?"
"The little blonde street rat! We don't know his name, but he just escaped from our reach." Said the policeman, growing impatient.
"I'm afraid I don't know who that is...oh! You mean him! He stole a few francs from me just last week! He went that way!" Grantaire pointed to where the had just came from. The constables growled and hopped onto their horses. Grantaire watched as they sped away. Grantaire rushed back to his study and pulled open the cabinet door. Gavroche climbed out, groaning.
"Wha' was the haste, Gran'aire?" The child demanded, rubbing the back of his neck.
"The police were at my door! They would'a gotten you!"
"Didja have ta' stuff me in a cabinet?"
"Enough words, I'm probably late for the meeting."
The two walked in silence to the cafe, until Gavroche turned suddenly. Grantaire shouted, but stopped when I've realized he was giving the apple he stole earlier to a young woman with a bundle in her arms. She smiled, and thanked the child many times. He ran back to join Grantaire. Just around the corner was the cafe. They listened intently to Enjolras, who seemed jumpy and paranoid. His eyes were darting around more than usual. After a few hours, Gavroche got up to get some fresh air outside. He sighed, and flinched at the bruise on his arm from when the merchant struck him. Suddenly, he heard whimpering. Curious, he looked around. Behind one of the buildings near the cafe was none other than Inspector Javert. He was looking up to the sky, speaking out loud. He seemed to be making a prayer. Gavroche leaned in more, to see who was whimpering. But he lost his footing, and tripped. He quickly crawled behind a nearby barrel just as Javert turned.
"Who's there? Is it you, street rat?" He questioned loudly. Gavroche cursed at himself, and held his breath. Luckily, the inspector sped the other way. He slowly crept out from his hiding place, only to see a little girl a few feet from where Javert was.
"Oi, you alright? Did he hurt you?" He asked, taking her hand in his. This girl was about his age, maybe younger. He rubbed her nose, sniffled, and nodded.
"I was walking with my papa, he said that he was gonna take me to see my mom. But that inspector came..." She sniffed again, "...and told his men to take my papa away. Then he hit me with that baton of his, then pushed me." She was holding a doll made from burlap sack. She clutched it tighter and more tear's spilled.
"That inspector thinks he's somethin'...but don't worry. I run this place, not him. Trust me, have no fear. You can always find me here." He assured her. He helped her up, and smiled, "I'm Gavroche. I take care of little ones, little ones just like you. Come with me, I'll take care of you." He said. The girl nodded. Night slowly crept upon them as he led the girl to his "home". Home was the unfinished elephant statue near town. He pulled her inside, and picked up a large slab of wood. He pushed it over the opening of the elephant, and sighed with relief.
"Gav? Is 'at you?" Asked a voice in the dark. One of the other children.
"Yes, I'm back. Boys and girls, this 'ere is Marie. She's a little shaken up, so I want you to take care of 'er while I'm gone." He ordered. One boy, Oliver, stood up. He put his arm around Marie's shoulders and pulled her to his group of friends in the corner. He nodded, happy that the girl was safe. He sprinted as fast as he could back to the cafe.
"Gavroche, where have you been?" Asked Enjolras, annoyed with the child.
"No reason, I just heard something and went to investigate. Just a cat." He lied. He didn't want the Amis to know about Marie. He thought about her. Since it was night, he couldn't see her that well. He guessed her hair was brown, or black. She had a round face and huge eyes, he wasn't sure what colour. She had been wearing a pretty gown, which was now dirty. Her family was obviously richer than average. She wasn't used to the street life...
"Gavroche! Hel-looo? Bud, can you hear me?" He snapped out of his thoughts to the sound of Courfeyrac shaking his arm. He nodded.
"Child, something is up with you. What's going on?" Asked Joly. Gavroche shook his head.
"Nothing!" He responded. Grantaire laughed.
"I've seen that look before, the other day when Marius came, talking about that pretty mademoiselle." he teased. Combeferre nudged him, hard.
"He's too young to know about stuff like that, don't teach him!" He scolded the drunk. Grantaire rolled his eyes and grinned.
Grantaire turned to the child and said, "Yah see, Gav, there's gonna come a time when you're gonna meet a girl. She's gonna make you real 'appy, an' you're gonna wanna spend a lot of time wit' her. You're face'll start to get warm..."
Gavroche then noticed the heat in his cheeks.
"...you're gonna start feelin' outta focus..."
He noticed that he hadn't payed attention to the meeting ever since he came back from saving Marie.
"...and you're gonna start getting these little things when your older-" he was cut off by Combeferre clamping his hand over his mouth.
"He. Doesn't. Need. To. Know. About. That. Yet." He whispered through gritted teeth. Grantaire stuck his tongue out, licking Combeferre's palm. Combeferre shrieked and immediately pulled out an emergency handkerchief. Gavroche held in laughter, but controlled it when he saw that Enjolras was not appreciating this situation.
"Gav, what we're trying to say is that you like someone. And not the way I like Joly, or Joly likes Comberferre. You like her like how Marius likes his lady friend." explained Enjolras. Gavroche tipped his head to the side, confused.
"How do I explain it...you feel like someone makes you happier than usual, and you want to make her happy too..." he continued.
"Oh, I see! Like the bread merchant has a wife, and he hugs her all the time and smiles at her. That kind of like!" Said Gavroche. Grantaire spit out whatever he was drinking. Struggling to contain laughter.
"Yes, that's it! You feel that way for someone. Tell us, who is she?" Asked Courfeyrac. Gavroche suddenly felt bashful. He lowered his head, allowing his blond curls to droop in front of his face. His cheeks got hotter.
"Her name is...Marie, I think." he answered. Courfeyrac smiled.
"Tell you what. After the meeting, I'll tell you just what to do. Alright?"
"Okay, Courf."