I'm crying, guyz. Sorry this update took so long! The email alert system stopped working and I didn't want to update and no one would know, since this is the last chapter. Anyway, I think it could be working it now.

Disclaimer:Seriously. By now you know the drill..

Because They Fought

England. Six years later.

The snow began to fall just as the Pontmercys rolled into Grantaire's drive. Inside the home, Athena had her face pressed to the window. "Mama! They're here!" she squealed, running for the door, throwing it open just as Marius raised his fist to knock.

The man laughed and swooped down to press a light kiss to the nine year old's thick hair. Cosette toddled in after him, a young boy hanging onto her leg. "Really, Pierre? Must you?" she frowned, gently prying him from her appendage.

Cosette's first child, Molly, had been born just three weeks after they returned to France. Molly was now seven, and when the three families got together, Athena and herself were inseparable. Cosette had also given birth to Émilie, who was four, and Pierre, who was two.

As for Grantaire's family, Christophe was now twenty, who had a wife and one child of his own. Margot was twelve, and she though herself too good for the rest of the world, so she kept to herself. The baby was six- Courf, they called him.

Enjolras' children were older, but not much wiser. Alfred had recently turned twenty two. After chasing after Marie for years, he'd finally pinned her down two years previously. She was pregnant with their first child. Henry was sixteen, still loud as ever. He had his eye set on a young girl named Estelle. Jehan was the exact same as his father at twelve: bright, studious, oblivious to his surroundings. And of course, baby Athena was nine, tough and independent.

Enjolras and Maggie had spoken about having another child, but Maggie once again reminded him that their relationship wasn't physical and he didn't need the added stress of another child. Three years after they'd moved to Cote du Rhone, though, Enjolras had looked at Maggie for a very long time one night. She'd finally sighed and nodded her head, secretly excited; she'd always wanted to have her own child. They were unable to have one, though, much to her dismay. Maggie was infertile and it had taken many weeks of loving and consoling for Enjolras to help get her back up and "on her feet."

Belle rushed into the foyer, throwing her arms around Cosette's neck. "My darling," she squealed. "Congratulations!" She was speaking of Cosette's new-found pregnancy.

"Thank you, Belle," Cosette whispered. Though her face smiled, from the sidelines, Maggie noticed the pure dread in her eyes. Pierre was a handful, and having another child would make it all the worse on the Pontmercys, but Marius was too excited for Cosette to tell him. "We'll be fine," she said, more reassuring herself than anyone else.

Maggie laughed and gave Cosette's arm a squeeze. "We were afraid you weren't going to be able to make it this year. We heard the snow up north was horrid!"

Cosette nodded. "Four feet."

"Dear God," Belle chuckled, taking the bags from Marius' hands. "We haven't had that much in years."

The living room was full of people, loud and crazy. Maggie caught Enjolras' eye from across the room where he was playing with Christophe's child. He winked and ruffled the girl's hair, before coming to stand beside her. "Merry Christmas," he whispered, pecking her cheek.

"Merry Christmas, darling." Maggie looked up at him and grinned. He was only in his late thirties, but still handsome as ever. Maggie felt herself to be truly lucky and blessed to be partnered with such a wonderful man.

Grantaire clapped his hands several times and the room settled down. "Good evening," he said. Everyone answered with 'hello' or 'good evening,' or in Jehan's case, 'salutations.' Enjolras sighed. (Jehan'd only just found out about the word, and no one could get him to stop saying it no matter how hard they tried.) "Thank you all for coming this Christmas," he continued.

"It's not like we had any choice," Alfred shot back; Marie elbowed him with a smile.

"That's right, you didn't." Grantaire stuck his tongue out at Alfred and then grinned. "It's really quite amazing how far we've all come," he said. ("Dad's getting sappy. Someone pull out the liquor so we don't have to listen!" Christophe leaned around his wife to high-five Alfred.) "Alright, fine. Obviously, none of you want to listen to me, so, just go eat instead." he winked and pointed to the large table in the middle of the room. Enjolras shrugged when he caught eyes with his friend.

Everyone scrambled to get their seat and dig into the food Belle, Marie, and Maggie had been preparing for the past few days. Enjolras founded himself between Maggie and Marius. Marius had no idea what elbow-room meant, so Enjolras ended up nearly smooched on top of Maggie. She didn't mind, though, and merely nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck on occasion. Beside her, Cosette turned her head to Christophe.

"Your daughter," she began. "She's very darling."

Christophe's wife, Lesiel, blushed. "Thank you, madame." Christophe patted Lesiel's hand. It was her first Christmas with the family, and her heartbeat was pounding in her ears.

Cosette chuckled. "Please. Cosette."

"Thank you, Cosette," Lesiel corrected. "Her name is Isabelle."

Cosette smiled and turned then to Marie. "Do you two have any names picked out?" her fork flashed between the two across from her. Alfred shared a look with his own wife.

Grantaire, beside Alfred, leaned across the table, cupping a hand over his mouth. "Porc et Piget."

Marie frowned and swatted his hand. "Non! Actually, we have, but it'll be a surprise until they come."

Cosette swallowed quickly. "They?"

Marie nodded slowly. "They." Alfred held up two fingers and blanched; Enjolras snickered at his plate. "There's a long history of twins in my family."

"Nothin' like two on your first," Grantaire grinned at Belle, who rolled her eyes.

The dinner continued as such. Never in his life had Enjolras been more happy. Even though the table was too full, and Jehan dropped his plate, which smattered, all was well in the Grantaire maison. Since it was Christmas Eve, it had become the tradition years earlier for the youngest of the group of children to pick out one present to open, as well as the oldest. In this case, after everything was relatively cleaned up, baby Isabelle opened a present from her aunt and uncle Pontmercy; it was a simple baby rattle, but it had been Cosette's when she was a child. Her first intention was to give to her own child, but upon first glance at Lesiel, she knew the girl needed it more than her own.

As for the eldest, Alfred chose to open the gift from Maggie. She had given him her notebook, the first one she wrote when she officially became "the" mother. Inside, were letters upon letters to Alfred; each child had their own, and she stopped writing them the day they were, or would be, married. She quietly told him not to read it in front of every one, just in case he might cry. Alfred gave her a heart-warming smile and large hug.

Enjolras slipped his hand into Maggie's when Belle and Lesiel, the musicians of the family, began playing Christmas carols. On his chest, underneath his shirt, hung the ring he never gave his first love. Usually, it weighed heavily, causing him more pain than good memories; he would take it off and shove it back into a drawer. On this night, though, it felt light. Enjolras smiled.

Eponine would have been proud of him, of all of them. He felt safe, content, and loved. Beside him, sat his own wife (for they had been married two years before; just because Maggie woke up and wanted to buy a wedding dress). He knew it wasn't a conventional marriage, but who needed conventionality? Beside her was Athena, snuggled up on her mother's side, quietly singing along to the songs. Henry was in a heated debate with Jehan about not saying salutations so often. Alfred was sitting beside his wife, an arm slung over the back of her chair, their hands intwined. Christophe was playing with Isabelle and no one exactly knew where Margot was. Courf had found himself a playmate with the two younger Pontmercy children.

The adults, however, all had the same things dancing through their minds. They had all been through so much together; half of which, no one could know or understand. Marius was thinking about Cosette and how, if he'd never been in that corner at that precise moment, they never would have met. Grantaire was thankful he had finally told Enjolras why he was the way he was. Enjolras was thinking on Les Amis, and what they would have been doing, had their plans succeeded,

The three Les Amis left were bound together for eternity, that was for sure. Never would they leave one another, no matter how far they lived, or how dire situations became. In the future, when Marie gave birth to her twins, and one of them passed away moments after the birth, Marius would be the one to hold her hand while Alfred told the rest of the family. When Margot would fall and break her legs, rendering herself paralyzed, Enjolras would be the one carrying her up to the house. When Enjolras was unable to walk Athena down the aisle because he was sick with pneumonia, Grantaire would be the one to stand in his place.

Somehow it seemed, they would never leave each other. Sometimes, Enjolras would still become irritated with Grantaire's lack of seriousness, or Marius' forgetful nature, but all in all, they were the best friends he'd ever had; he wouldn't trade them for the world.

While the last of the songs began to play, and the children slowly fell asleep, a blow hit Enjolras straight in the forehead. If he'd never slept with Eponine all those years ago, none of this would have happened. None of it. He would probably be dead, as well. Even though she was passed on, he knew, deep down, it was the best mistake he'd ever made. He'd grown into the man he was that Christmas Eve.

Suddenly, he began to laugh, joy and relief overtaking him. Marius stared at him for a moment, before feeling it spread onto him. Soon, the whole room was rolling with laughter. No one exactly knew what they were laughing about, but it didn't matter.

They were happy.

They were together.

It was Christmas.

And they were (what was left of) the long-reigning, never forgotten, nearly historic Les Amis.

Excuse me while I sob.

I really tried to make this as sappy and cheesy as possible. I know that because the last story ended on a sad note, this one needed to end on a lighter one. That's it; it's done. 'They Meet' is over! Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who ever did anything to contribute to this story. Special always-thank you to Judy-BB, who is my darling and my rock. Thank you to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed.

This story and 'She Waits' was a shot in the dark for me, and I'm honored that anyone even read it, much less reviewed. The epilogue will be up probably by Friday.

Until then, much love, forever thanking you all,

Jessica