Hello *waves*

So, I wasn't sure if I should continue this because I wasn't sure how I was going to do it…BUT THEN I was kind of like, why not right? But just to be clear, I don't exactly know where I'm going with this…so this may end REALLY badly. Eh, we'll see :)

This chapter is kind of boring, but is crucial to the story line. It had to be done. Next chapter will be better :)

Pierre sat up in bed. He'd slept for a few hours or so. Pierre never liked bed time, but Enjolras had made a rule about Pierre not being allowed out of bed until the sun was up. So Pierre waited for what felt like hours, until he finally saw sunlight begin to leak in through the window. Pierre hadn't heard Enjolras return home yet. Perhaps he was just sleeping. He quietly jumped out of bed and crept into the corridor. "Daddy?" he whispered. No one answered. Pierre walked into Enjolras' bedroom. The bed was empty. The red sheets remained untouched. Enjolras was always home when Pierre got up. "Daddy…" he said again, and yet no one answered. Pierre started to panic. Where could he be? Pierre jumped up onto Enjolras' bed and hid under the covers, something he usually did when his big brother wasn't around. He grabbed onto one of the small pillows and hugged onto it. The bed smelt like Enjolras, which gave Pierre a sense of security, for now. "Daddy, where are you?"

Oxo

Three days after the barricade and everything seems different. Only five of them remain now. Gavroche, being the smart little lad that he was, had led them all to safety through an underground tunnel. Thanks to Marius' grandfather, they've been accepted back into society, but the national guards were watching their every move. The remaining survivors were Grantaire, Combeferre, Jehan, Eponine and Gavroche. Marius somehow escaped the barricades. They were still unclear of how he managed to escape. Marius didn't even remember himself.

The Amis were temporarily staying with Marius and his grandfather. The freedom fighters were still hurting, but not because of the wounds. It wasn't the broken bones that pained them the most. It was the heart ache that their friends had left behind. Now they were left in a world that just didn't seem the same. Their souls used to be lit with the thoughts of a free world, but now, it all seemed dead.

Enjolras had once said that he'd either change the world or die trying. The men that died that day, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Joly, Bahorel, Lesgle, Feuilly…they were the real heroes. And what of the five that fled for their lives? They were cowards. Well, at least that's what they saw themselves as. Sometimes they felt like they didn't deserve to live.

Grantaire sat in an old wooden rocking chair beside Marius' bed. He slowly rocked himself back and forth. He felt somewhat guilty for not fighting like he should have done, but after his Apollo was gone, so was his inspiration. He didn't see the point. When Enjolras fell, the idea of revolution fell with him, and Grantaire had to ask himself, 'what am I doing?' And of course, he cried for his Apollo, although, never in front of the others. Grantaire had always looked up to Enjolras as his inspiration. Now, he had nothing to look up to.

Combeferre stood by Marius' book case. Nothing that Combeferre hadn't already read. He was just looking for something to take his mind off of things. His mind kept wandering back to the barricade. The images of his dying companions flashed into his mind every few minutes. The ghosts refused to die. He watched as his friends faded away into nothing. Combeferre had scars from the barricade that probably would never fade. They'd stay on his skin, like a reminder of how he lived and let his friends die…he blamed himself.

Jehan stood by the doorway, his mind slightly blank. He hadn't moved for the last hour. He felt somewhat haunted by the faces of his old companions he called his brothers. If you've ever lost someone you loved, then you know how they feel…if you haven't, then you cannot possibly imagine.

He cleared his throat and sighed, "We…still haven't gone to see them." Grantaire, Combeferre, Eponine, Marius and Gavroche turned to Jehan. "They're going to be burying the bodies tomorrow…if we're going to say goodbye, we'd have to do it soon."

There was a silence. No one exactly wanted to return to the place of their nightmares, but they had to see their Amis at least one last time. Combeferre nodded. "We'll go now."

They all nodded. Cosette held Marius' hand, "May I come?" she asked.

Marius shook his head, "It's a horrifying sight Cosette-"

"I want to send them a prayer." Cosette said with a sweet smile. Cosette's father was a man of god, and it appears that he'd rubbed off on her. Marius sighed. He didn't want Cosette to see the horror that lied at the barricades.

"Cosette, there's blood flowing down the streets. It's truly-"

"I don't care." She said, softly, but firmly, "These men were brave and noble and I must show them respect. Please." She said, holding his hand just a little tighter. Marius sighed and gave in. He nodded. Cosette smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Eponine looked away in disgust. Eponine almost got shot for Marius, and yet he still couldn't see her.

Oxo

They'd taken the barricade down. The boys almost felt depressed about that, considering how long it took them to build the bloody thing. Red stained the street like the rays of the morning sun. Some of the young women who'd volunteered to clean the street, scratched at the blood-stained floor with their soapy brushes. One of the young women looked up to the revolutionaries that stood in the middle of the street. She noticed the rebellion badge that Jehan had forgotten to (and probably never would) take off. She sighed. "They're in there." She said, pointing to the café. Jehan glanced at the wooden building at the end of the street. The doors to the café were closed shut to hide the ghosts that hid inside.

Jehan swallowed, "Merci Madame." He said politely. Combeferre, Jehan, Gavroche, Eponine, Marius, Grantaire and Cosette walked over to the building. Jehan raised his hand to open the door, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want to see his friends lying motionless on the floor. He didn't want to see their colourless eyes that haunted his soul. In the end Jehan stepped away from the door and let Combeferre push it open.

The door creaked as it was swung open…and there they were. All lined up like soldiers. Side by side. The women that had brought them inside had closed their eyes for them, so they could find sleep. They stared down at their companions. Thoughts of the barricade rushed into their heads. Gavroche found it hard not to burst into tears. But he was staying strong. He held Eponine's hand. Sometimes people forgot that Gavroche was just a child.

Jehan felt a tear roll down his face as his eyes rested on Courfeyrac. The one who always had a joke to tell. The one who made everyone laugh when he struck out with a girl at the bar. He never thought he'd see the day when that man stayed silent. Jehan couldn't take the sight any longer and stepped out of the room. He leant against the side of the café and let the tears fall as he choked out a cry. Eponine heard him crying and walked outside to comfort the emotionally and physically scarred poet.

Cosette knelt down beside the line of students and closed her eyes, whispering her words of prayer. She didn't seem put off by the fact she was surrounded by blood and death. She just wished the young boys good luck in the land ahead.

Grantaire was sober for the first time in years, and for once, he didn't feel like a drink. He knew that alcohol would never make this pain go away. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do…what to say…what to think. Combeferre walked to the end of the room, finding it hard to believe that all of these men died for nothing. Enjolras' body lied next to Courfeyrac at the far end of the room. Combeferre removed his glasses in respect. Their skin was as pale as snow, which only made the blood on their faces more visible. Enjolras' red jacket seemed fine. The blood was hidden by the bright colour of the jacket itself.

Suddenly, something strange caught Combeferre's eye. He furrowed his eyebrows as he took a closer look at the red jacket. Inside the front pocket, a small corner of paper revealed itself. Combeferre knelt down beside his old Ami and gently pulled the paper out of the pocket. He unfolded the paper. It was some sort of letter. "…Everyone." He called over. Eponine and Jehan came in from outside. "Look at this."

Grantaire took it from him and read it out loud.

Dear reader,

If you are reading this then I am most likely dead. To whoever is reading this, I must ask of one favour. Since I have passed away, I am no longer capable of caring for my beloved brother, Pierre. Pierre is a child of five years. All I ask is that you help me find my little one a new home. Keep him safe. He lives with me at 20 Montreal, H3C 3A8. Take what you want from my house. Think of it as payment for the good that you're doing. But please, I beg of you, help my little one. He's the only thing that I've ever loved in this world. Knowing that Pierre is safe would let me die happy. Please… he's only a child.

God bless you,

J. Enjolras

The Amis were silent for a moment. "…Enjolras has a brother?" Grantaire said in disbelief.

"…I guess so." Combeferre shook his head. "He never told me…" A part of him felt somewhat hurt by the fact that his best friend failed to tell him about his brother. Perhaps he didn't trust Combeferre with the secret, which only made it hurt more.

"He never told any of us." Marius said.

"But, why did he keep this a secret?" Jehan said in a half broken tone.

Cosette shook her head, "Does that really matter right now?" She said. The boys all turned to her. They kind of forgot she was here. "There's a little boy out there by himself wondering when his brother's going to come home. We need to find Pierre, now."

Oxo

To be continued

This chapter is kind of boring I know, but stay with me! Next chapter will be better because they're going to find Pierre and stuff like that.

Comments are LOVED!