Hello, I am back. Now, some of you may have thought that I had gone off and fallen off of the edge of world seeing as it has been over a year since I have updated some of my stories, including 'Little Brother' which I feel terrible about. But, believe me, I am working on it. I have about 300 words of the next chapter of little brother written and I am trying my hardest to get it done and updated now that I have a bit more time on my hands. I am in between jobs at the moment, having left one about a month ago and I am now looking for another one so I don't know how long my free time is going to last. So I wanted to get something updated and I know that this one was the most recently updated story of mine but it always seems to be the one that I have the most ideas for. Never mind, at least it is something and at least I am writing again.
I hope that you all enjoy this chapter and I hope that it can do something towards making up for being away for so long. Please read and review, I take all the feedback in and I love hearing your opinions.
In the few times that Grantaire had visited the small rented home of Courfeyrac and Marius, it hadn't been like this. The place had always seemed so full of life and noise. Courfeyrac was always humming a tune or singing a revolutionary ditty. Marius would be tucked up in his tiny bedroom, reading away or working. Now it was silent. A small fire burnt in the hearth, boiling water in the kettle that hung over it. Eponine carefully lit a candle from the fire's pitiful flames, the gentle light showing the way as she led Grantaire into a second tiny bedroom, Courfeyrac's bedroom and placed the candle on the cabinet, lighting the sight before him.
Gavroche lay in the tattered bed, the blood-stained bandages wrapped around his tiny torso topped with an old shirt of Courfeyrac's. He whimpered in his feverish sleep, giving occasional gasps of pain. "Oh" Grantaire breathed looking at the little boy. "Has he woken at all… since it happened?"
"No" Eponine sighed. "Not once, he's stuck in this horrid fever ridden sleep and I don't know what to do." She sat on the edge of the bed, pushing the strands of sweat soaked hair from her little brother's forehead. He looked so young, so perfectly innocent, yet his pale face seemed to show that he had seen so much, so much more than any child of his age should have seen. He was in physical pain, and whilst he slept he remained completely unaware of the emotional pain he was going to be put through when he woke, when he found out that his father figure, his Courfeyrac, was not going to be coming back to get him. That house out in the country, with the large garden he could run wild in and those trips down to the beach to learn how to swim, would always remain a dream to the little boy who had been holding onto it for so long. "I had to get the medicine for him, he has to get better" Eponine breathed, tears building in her eyes. "I can't lose him, he's everything I have and I can't fail him. Failing him would be a betrayal to him and to Courfeyrac"
Grantaire found himself nodding in agreement, gently placing a hand on Eponine's shoulder as he watched the little boy in the bed. The contact appeared to anchor him as grief rushed through him. They were the only ones left. Himself, Eponine and little Gavroche, alone, three people against the world that appeared to what them gone. For a moment he thought about the bottle of wine he had left in that alleyway and how he could easily drown his grief in the strong alcohol, but now he couldn't go back to that, he was needed. The three of them had to stay together. Looking to Gavroche, he sighed. The tiny child looked so weak, the only colour on him being the bright red of his cheeks. He had never seen Gavroche not fighting strong, even when Courfeyrac first found him ill and tired; the child had always been fighting. Gavroche always wanted to be on his feet, running and jumping through the streets, singing and smiling to all that passed him. Now, he wasn't fighting. There didn't appear to be enough strength in that little body to fight against what it was going through. The bullet wound to the child's shoulder wasn't the issue that was small and would heal itself, it was the wound to his stomach that was fighting him, killing him. Combeferre had removed the bullet, cleaned the wound and wrapped it so tightly in attempt to help it heal but infection was ranging through Gavroche's body. He wasn't fighting anymore. Grantaire couldn't help but think that maybe, somehow in his heart, Gavroche knew that his 'daddy' was gone and had stopped fighting in an attempt to join him perhaps. But allowing Gavroche to fade away would be a failure; he knew that Courfeyrac would want his little boy to live, to grow and to thrive. If Gavroche couldn't fight anymore, they would simply have to fight for him.
"I've spent these last three days praying for him to wake up, yet thinking that at least whilst he is sleeping I can think… think about what I am going to tell him." Eponine sighed wiping a tear from her eye. "How am I going to tell him that Courfeyrac is gone? The last thing that Courfeyrac said to him before he lost consciousness was that he was going to come back for him, that it wasn't a good bye it was a I will see you again soon"
"We will have to work it out" Grantaire sighed. "We will have to tell him the truth otherwise he will just sit and wait for Courfeyrac to come home again."
"It's going to break his little heart, Courfeyrac is… was everything to him" Eponine said carefully adjusting the blankets around her sleeping brother's form.
"I know Eponine but the first thing he is going to do when he wakes up is look for Courfeyrac and ask where he is" he replied. "We have to come straight out and tell him that Courfeyrac is gone and it's just me, you and him"
Eponine nodded. "Thank you for saying when he wakes rather than if" She said gently.
"He is going to get better, you and I are going to make sure of it and everything somehow will be alright" Grantaire said sitting beside her and looking from her to Gavroche.
"You are going to stay and help me?" Eponine said looking at Grantaire carefully lifting little Gavroche into his arms and cradling him against his broad chest, the look of love and care in his eyes. She had never seen much interaction between Grantaire and her little brother but in his moment, she had never seen so much hope and truth in the young man. He had always been the one who didn't appear to believe in anything but know he appeared to believe that they could do this. They could help Gavroche get better and could handle this.
"Of course, we are the only ones left Eponine and he needs us more than anything now" Grantaire said softly. "Now, we need to give him his medicine"
Eponine nodded and carefully measured out the medicine into a small metal cup that had been warming by the fire. Handing the cup to Grantaire, she tucked herself into the chair beside the bed watching the man she had seen as a cynic hold the cup to Gavroche's lips, tilting the child's head to encourage him to drink. "Shh Gavroche, come on now" He whispered. The grief had settled into a painful put in his stomach as he held the child close, slowly pouring the medicine into his mouth. He thought about the times he had seen Joly and Combeferre helping the gamins that had always been around the musain, how he had seen them encourage the children to take the foul tasting medicine and encouraged them. His heart clenched in grief for the child when he thought about the times he had sat and watched Courfeyrac sit with Gavroche in his arms, playing with his unruly hair and tickling his stomach to make him laugh. They had always been so comfortable with each other, as if they had always been together. There had been so many nights where Gavroche had fallen asleep in Courfeyrac's loving hold, cuddled up to his chest with a blanket or a jacket wrapped around his small form to warm him. Grantaire knew that he could never give that love to Gavroche but he had to do something. Finally there was something more than the drunken dreams at the bottom of a bottle giving him something to hold onto, he was holding onto Gavroche and little Gavroche was holding onto him.
Once he had managed to get the measure of medicine into the child, he held him close looking to Eponine. She had that intense look of concentration on her face, yet he was unsure whether she was concentrating on him or thinking of much darker things, thinking of the friends that were no longer. She shook herself out of her thoughts as his gaze met hers. "How are we going to do this, look at this place? It's hardly suitable, is it?"
"Well not entirely, but we can make it so" Grantaire sighed gently laying Gavroche back into his bed and tucking the blankets around him. "You take the other bed; I will be more than comfortable in that chair. I have slept in much worse places when stuck in the bottle. My next concern is, have you eaten in the last three days?"
"No more than a slice of dry bread I found in the cupboard" Eponine sighed "I have been more concerned about him Grantaire; food has been the last thing on my mind"
"In the morning, I will go and find some food, I have little money but it will be enough for bread and cheese for now" Grantaire said. "And honey, I remember Combeferre soaking the bread in honey to get the children who were poorly to take it"
Eponine found herself smiling, albeit slightly, for the first time since the barricade. "You would rather spend the money on food than wine?"
"He needs the food more than I need the drink" Grantaire said. For the first time in years, drink seemed unimportant. Although he wanted the taste, he wanted to fade away into the strong alcohol to try and take the pain away but it almost seemed as if he didn't deserve it. Why did he deserve to have something to make him feel better and to take his pain away when Gavroche couldn't have what he needed to take his pain away and to make him feel better. Why should Grantaire get the drink, when Grantaire couldn't have his 'daddy'.