A jostling movement woke Sophie up later that evening. "Hmmm...?" She questioned as she lifted up her head to see a winding landscape running beside her. The trees waved to her as they flew past her.

"Damn it!" She cursed, turning around in the carriage. "He got me on a carriage? No!"

She opened a window and turned to the carriage driver. "Turn around please Monsieur!" She begged.

"Madame, I had strict orders to get you to Calais." The driver quipped. Sophie facepalmed and growled in frustration. Calais? Damn him! He was sending her to her aunt's home. To get her away from the did he even get her in the carriage? "Man paid me good money to take you away from Paris."

"Monsieur, whatever the man paid you, I'll pay you double for a horse!" She pleaded. The carriage driver, motivated by his greed slowed the carriage to a stop and held his hand out. She threw the little bag of coins without much feeling and grabbed the reins of a horse.

"Thank you monsieur." She said, swinging onto a horse and racing as fast as she could to get back to Paris. They had gotten about halfway to Calais, which was at least an hour away. Sophie could feel tears stinging at her as the wind whipped her face and hair relentlessly. She could already feel, it was too late.

~

The street full of blood was her first clue, her first real indication that something was wrong. Her delicate white slippers were ruined, she was sure of it, after she had accidentally stepped in a huge red puddle. She wrapped her shawl around her as she walked past the mounds of bodies, bodies of the guards. Sophie walked around the barricade and almost collapsed. Inside the ruins of the cafe, were bodies. Side by side. A soft sob escaped her throat as she approached.

"Madame...you shouldn't be here." An officer said calmly, anger deep beneath. She held her hand out to silence him. "I'm looking for my-" She stopped, seeing Gavroche's little body, a medal pinned to his chest. She fell to her knees and wept. She went past each body, dreading the one of her Apollo. She had noticed that one ami, Marius Pontmercy was missing. Perhaps he had lived, but she no longer cared. Combeferre, his face twisted in a grimace of death. Joly, if he was alive and he saw all this blood, he'd certainly panic. Courfeyrac...his baby face forever stunted. Grantaire.

Seeing Grantaire's body, shut her down. She collapsed onto his body and sobbed into him. Her best friend, her favorite Ami, lay dead, a look of scornful pride forever carved onto his face.

"No. No. No, oh god no." Sophie whispered. Enjolras held a red flag, blood dried all over his body. She cradled his head in her lap and sobbed. "You idiot..." She mumbled, sobbing into his hair. She kissed his forehead, and cried even more. Her tears fell upon his face, and part of her hoped, childishly, that they would revive him. They didn't. His face held the triumph, and defeat of the barricade. In his listless eyes, she could see everything that happened. The firing squad, which left the eight bullet holes in his chest.

Poor pied piper...leading the school boys to their death. She kissed his face again, and ran her finger over his lips, cold dead lips. "Oh mon amour...mon amour est mort." My love is dead.

"She's...destroyed, Enjolras." Grantaire commented, looking down on her. Enjolras sighed. "I feel horrible that I tricked her, but..."

"Why should I be surprised that you tricked her? You lied to all of us about her!" Courfeyrac commented bitterly. Courfeyrac had his own loose ends that would never again be fixed. Grantaire held up his hand. "Are you going to watch over her Enjolras?"

The man in question shook his head. "No. She needs to move on without me haunting her. I'll go to Poland with Feuilly..."

"I'll watch over her then Enjolras. Do you wan-"

"No. I don't want to know anything at all about her life after this...she needs to move on."