Hi guys! It feels like forever since I've posted! Basically I was listening to Daniel in the Den last night (yeah, another Bastille song, sorry guys) and I just thought of a massive plot twist for Les Amis. I'm not really sure about it as a story, I was going to make it into a multichapter but I don't think I could have kept it going. Hope you enjoy!
"Why do you stand here, letting them taunt you?" Enjolras yells at the crowd. "These are your children we're fighting for, the next generation – the free generation!" A cry of agreement rises from the mothers in the crowd, a cry of hope, defiance. These are the people unafraid of what the king will do. These are the people who cannot be punished by the government because they have nothing left to take away. They have no food, little water. Of course the mothers have children, but, engulfed by the bustle of the street and camouflaged against the other gamins, the government have no idea who to take. And they know better than to take an orphan of Paris into a prison; every child has learnt how to survive on the streets, each of them a mini Houdini in their own right. It wouldn't do for the king to be humiliated by those beneath him.
As Enjolras studies the crowd, he frowns. He's breathing heavily, allowing the adrenaline to pump through his veins: a feeling he only ever gets from giving speeches. The turnout is huge, bigger than Enjolras has ever seen, and this confuses him. Normally the mounted police would be surrounding a crowd half this size, but the National Guard are nowhere to be seen. Enjolras hears alarm bells in his head; this isn't right. Especially since the barricades –
"Bahorel – Bahorel, NO!" Enjolras reaches out to grab the boxer and pull him back. It's too late. The shot fires, and Enjolras cries out, before realising the sound came from Bahorel's gun. The man advances, unaware of the bayonet until it pierces his chest. The brutal look of the soldier who pulls the bayonet from Bahorel and wipes the blood on his sleeve disgusts Enjolras.
"I need someone to go and collect ammunition from the dead bodies," Enjolras asks around.
"I'll go," Bossuet's voice is willing, accepting. Enjolras nods, trying his best to ignore the look of despair on Joly's face as his boyfriend steps forward. Two minutes later, no one can hold Joly back as he runs to his dead lover's side, tears of pain falling from his eyes, his sobs attracting the attention of the National Guard. With a nod from Enjolras' side of the barricade, unseen by him, a shot is fired. At least, Enjolras concludes, they're together now.
Feuilly's death is too sudden, too horrible for someone who had done so much for the republic. As Enjolras scrambles up the stairs as they're chopped down by Combeferre and Courfeyrac, the young soldier misfires, hitting Feuilly instead of Enjolras. He has never forgiven himself.
… no. He will not let their deaths be in vain. He would not sit and blame himself. They had lost four good men, four brothers, that night, and Enjolras was not prepared to lose anymore. This time he would get it right, this time the people would end, this time the people would rise, this time it would end with the republic.
As Enjolras ended the speech, he looked through the crowd until he found Combeferre and Courfeyrac. They were talking to a young woman. Enjolras stepped down from the platform and made his way over to them, just as they were finishing their conversation.
"Well I think we have some substantial proof that you haven't done your job properly. But not to worry; I'm here now."
"Enjolras!" Courfeyrac called his friend over.
"What was that about?" Enjolras asked, frowning.
"Oh, that's Cosette, from Courf's work," Combeferre explained. "Convinced he's slacking."
"Better get on with it then," Enjolras clapped Courfeyrac round the shoulder and wandered off to greet people. Combeferre grinned.
"Did he just… give us consent?" Courfeyrac smirked back.
"I think he did."
-/-
As Combeferre strides over to Grantaire, he curses inwardly as Enjolras gets to him first.
"E, can you give us a minute?" Grantaire asks. "I need to talk to Combeferre." Enjolras frowns and backs off a little.
"Hey, Carbon, where's your Dioxide?" Combeferre rolls his eyes, already fed up of Grantaire's two day old CO2 joke.
"Shut up, R, you know me and Courfeyrac aren't dating."
"Oh, that's right, you've got a crush on that cutie in the murder mystery section of Waterstone's. Sorry, my bad."
"R, stop it. I've got a message from Cosette."
"Oh dear, what does Pontmercy's missus want now?"
"She's been watching you getting sentimental again. Over Enjolras. You need to stop this, R."
"I'm not sentimental!"
"Come off it, Grantaire, we've all seen the way you look at him. Anyway, she told me you need to be more careful. Remember what happened to the last one that got sentimental." Grantaire swings around and pins Combeferre to the wall by his throat.
"Joly was in love, you didn't have to order his death. Not over his boyfriend. Bossuet was my friend! Yours too."
"It was an act, R!" Combeferre chokes. "Remember who the enemy is. It's not me, it's them. Joly was distracted by Bossuet, we needed them both out of the equation."
"Musichetta had a baby on the way." Grantaire pushes his hand further into Combeferre's throat. "An innocent child. Do you know what society does to single mothers?" he throws a punch at Combeferre's stomach. "Do you?!"
"R, Enjolras is coming over."
"Oh!" Grantaire releases Combeferre and scratches the back of his neck. "Hey, boss." Enjolras grunts in reply.
"Combeferre, can you grab the others? We should get back to the Musain."
"Sure." Combeferre shoots a glance at Grantaire before running and yelling to Courfeyrac, Jehan, Marius and Cosette. "Let's do this quick," Combeferre hisses to Courfeyrac, Marius and Cosette.
"Do what?" Jehan asks, sticking his head over Cosette's shoulder.
"Kill Enjolras," she replies coolly. Jehan shrieks as Cosette pulls a pistol from her skirt. "One wrong move, Prouvaire. Got it?" Jehan gulps and nods. His eyes dart to her hands and he quickly makes his move, grabbing the gun cartridge and taking it, running to the Musain.
"ENJOLRAS!" Jehan yells. "ENJOLRAS, RUN!"
"Why?" Enjolras whips round to face Jehan.
"Other amis," he breathes, "Guns, assassins – they're gonna kill you!"
"Who?"
"Courf! Ferre! R!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Jehan, they would never -" Jehan falls dead at Enjolras' feet, blood seeping out from his back. Enjolras looks at his chest to see a sniper laser over his heart.
Enjolras looks up into Combeferre's eyes and sees nothing. No brotherhood, no camaraderie, no kindness. Only hatred. Enjolras knows then what's going to happen to him. He looks up at the sky and sees clouds, blue, and then
