A/N Okay, not sure how I feel about this but…meh, let me know what you think. The title just leapt into my head at about eleven o'clock last night and the whole story just screamed BARRICADE DAY at me so… yeah. Enjoy!
If Only
If only he had known it would end like this.
The logical part of him knows that is impossible, but the heart-broken, alone, and, yes, scared part of him wishes he could have foreseen it. He stands framed against the golden light of the window, the dust particles dancing in a glowing haze around him. There is blood on his hands, both physically and metaphorically, and he has failed.
If only he had planned better, rallied more followers, gathered more weapons, more ammunition.
He stares down the barrels of the muskets aimed at him, trying to look unafraid.
If only he had thought to create an escape route.
If only he could have put aside his ideals for a second and considered, as he had so often told his friends, of price they might have to pay, then maybe they wouldn't all be dead.
If only he could have convinced his friends to leave.
If only…
His head feels as thick and as heavy as the ominous silence he wakes to. Groggily, he rolls himself onto his side, wondering why he was given free rein of the bar. He flinches as he remembers, remembers the gunshots, the panic, the voices of his friends recognisable to him even when raised in screams of agony.
If only he could have done something.
He had tried to join in the fight, but his heightened state of inebriation had rendered him useless with a musket.
If only he wasn't such a useless human being.
If only he was sober.
If only he could be sober.
If only he hadn't been such a coward while his friends died.
He lifts his head and retches at the sight of Courfeyrac's corpse laid a few feet away, his once vibrant eyes stilled in death.
He sees the boots of the soldiers.
Moving forwards he sees the raised weapons, trained on a figure by the window.
Enjolras.
He stumbles to his feet, averting his eyes from the bodies of his friends and staggers to his Apollo's side.
If only he had been brave enough to do this before.
No! What was Grantaire doing?
If only he had stayed asleep.
If only he had stayed away.
Why is he willing to die for something he doesn't believe in?
He sees the confusion and disapproval in Enjolras' face, but it doesn't stop him...because he can see the fear and despair there as well.
No one deserves to die alone, not someone as majestic and inspiring as Enjolras. It is just a shame the eagle would have to die with the toad.
If only he could be more worthy.
The two sets of eyes meet and something unspoken passes between them.
Feeling truly sober for the first time in decades, Grantaire offers his hand, the words from the night before ringing in his ears.
Will you take your place with me?
"Do you permit it?"
Fear and disapproval is replaced by wonderment and finally…acceptance. Being unafraid is no longer an act.
A/N Thanks for reading! Review please! Even if it's just to cry together over the angst of Barricade Day.