(AN – Ok, the barricade's, honestly I think this might have been one of the hardest chapters I've written so far let me know what you think…)

Chapter 13 – To the Barricade

It was the strangest atmosphere: the people stood silently as they waited for the tomb of General Lamarque to pass. It was silent, and yet the air seemed thick with the unspoken. It was as if they were about to burst into song, as if they were standing in the middle of a powder keg. People moved cautiously, waiting for the spark that would start the explosions that they knew were inevitable.

He saw it in the distance—the future was approaching in the form of a funeral carriage. Its progress was painfully slow. The tension in the air seemed to build along with the adrenaline that thundered through Enjolras' limbs, waiting and ready. He looked among the crowd. The faces he recognised looked back to him with a nod; each knew their place. Once Enjolras moved, the rest would follow. He looked into the eyes of those he did not know. Eponine was wrong—the people would rise.

He waited; Lamarque's coffin was almost upon them. From the opposite side of the crowd, he caught Marius's eye. They nodded to each other—the time had come. The carriage moved to block his view of Marius, and Enjolras sprang into action, breaking free from the crowd.

He jumped onto the carriage, climbing to the top and reaching its summit simultaneously with Marius. Courfeyrac ran alongside, passing the red flag of revolution up to Enjolras, who waved it forcefully. Joly and Combeferre jumped onto the front proudly holding forth le drapeau Français*. The other members of Les Amis ran around the tomb, and for a horrifying second no one else in the crowd moved.

Then, all at once, the people reacted, rushing forwards and crowding around the carriage. Cries of 'Vive La France' could be heard from amongst the crowd. Their planning was finally paying off. The people of Paris were heeding their call!

Their progress was halted by a line of soldiers on horseback. Les Amis had prepared for this. Enjolras handed the red flag to Courfeyrac. Marius was already aiming his pistol when Enjolras took his and levelled it at the soldiers. Their instructions had been clear—they would not shoot first. There was no need for unnecessary causalities.

They waited in silence; neither the revolutionaries nor the soldiers made a move. Then the sound of a shot split the air. Combeferre was the first into action, springing down from his place atop the coffin and running towards the commotion in the crowd. Usually one to keep the peace, Combeferre rounded on the soldiers.

"MURDERERS!" he screamed. "She was an innocent woman!"

He moved aside to show an old lady lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. She had not even been among those who had joined them—she had been standing on the side of the street. Not for the first time, Enjolras realised how ruthless the armies they were fighting against would be, and he reminded himself why exactly they were planning to fight them.

"To the barricade!" he cried. The now infuriated crowd rushed behind him as he led the way through the streets.

All at once it was happening. Furniture seemed to be falling from the sky. The barricade was rising before his eyes. He rushed in and out of the groups of people, giving directions, helping to lift furniture, telling them where to store the ammunition. His name was called so often, he lost track of who he had spoken to. The barricade was almost finished before he finally had a moment, merely a few seconds, to pause. He looked with awe at the sight before him. Change was finally upon them. A free France was dawning.

Even Grantaire had come with them. This surprised Enjolras. He knew that Grantaire thought their revolutionary ideas were foolish; it had often puzzled him why he even came to their meetings. Perhaps he was wrong; Grantaire was helping just as much as anyone else, the only difference being the bottle he held in his hand. He was drinking twice his usual amount—which might have caused some concern, but Enjolras quickly dismissed it.

In no time at all, the barricade was constructed. Two men had been dispatched: one to see how many other barricades had risen and how they were being organised, and another who had volunteered to spy on the enemy. He said he had served in the army in his youth and was therefore the ideal candidate.

When the commotion had settled down some, Enjolras finally had time to reflect. It looked as if the people really had risen, as he had known they would. He almost wished Eponine was able to see them. He felt bad that he had argued with her—as soon as he had the opportunity, he would apologise. She was sure to forgive him. By the time they next spoke they would be in the process of building a new world that they were beginning today.

~X~

A man was approaching the barricades. Eponine noticed the way the students gathered eagerly to hear what he had to say to Enjolras. Eponine got as close as she dared, keeping her head down so that the rim of her hat shielded her face. The last thing she needed was to be recognised and sent away from the barricades.

It was her fault that Marius was here; she couldn't just abandon him now. She was currently struggling internally over who she needed to stick closer to—Marius or Enjolras. She had watched Enjolras as the barricade had been built, the way he had selflessly helped others, directed them and taking command so easily. It worried her. He was going to be too big a target. If the soldiers looked close enough to realise he was the chief, they would take him out first so that the barricade would crumble.

It didn't help matters that he was so noticeable—he cut a striking figure at the best of times, but today he wore a red jacket and had tied one of the revolutionary flags around his waist. He might as well have hung a sign around his neck saying 'Leader of the Barricade'. She had no idea how she was going to keep them both safe, but there was no way she was leaving.

She took a few steps closer so she could hear what the man was saying, self-consciously tucking a few lose strands of hair back under her cap.

"They will not attack tonight," the man said in a voice Eponine thought she recognised. "They are planning to starve you out and will attack in the morning."

"LIAR!" a high-pitched voice screamed.

All eyes swivelled round to Gavroche. What was he doing here? Eponine was about to go over and scold him, but stopped herself when she realised that it would discredit her disguise. She saw the grin that split her brother's face—a grin that meant he was up to something and enjoying it immensely.

"Good evening, dear Inspector Javert," he laughed.

Javert! Eponine realised, raising her eyes. It was a trap.

She did not pay attention as they tackled Javert—she was racing to the top of the barricade to get a better look at the horizon. She heard them before she saw them—the sound of approaching regimented footsteps.

Her need for disguise forgotten, Eponine turned around to cry out a warning. Below her, the men had already gathered what was happening. Their eyes were directed towards the approaching soldiers. There was a moment of hesitation when no one seemed to know what to do.

"Make ready!" came the cry from Enjolras. At the sound of his voice, everyone remembered their places. Pistols and rifles were distributed, men climbed the barricade to their prearranged positions, with Enjolras placing himself front and centre.

Eponine made her way to a position closest to him with her mind made up. She did not take a weapon for herself, having no idea how to load or fire one. In all honesty, she had no idea what she planned to do; she only knew that she needed to be there.

"Wait for it," Enjolras whispered as the soldiers approached.

Eponine held her breath.

"FIRE!"

All at once, the barricade exploded and the rifle fire was instantly returned. An unfamiliar man to her right lost his footing and fell backwards. The soldiers were climbing the barricade; everything was happening so fast.

Enjolras reloaded and fired his rifle with rapid speed, shooting a soldier who had been aiming at Courfeyrac, but leaving himself exposed to the one that now levelled his pistol at him. Eponine did not even have time to gasp before Enjolras threw himself forwards, using his shoulder and the butt of his rifle to send the offending solider toppling from the barricade. He jumped down, ensuring that the man who had previously fallen at Eponine's right was fine, before shouting instructions as he climbed back up.

Eponine saw Marius in the distance as she followed Enjolras's movements. Her heart skipped a beat as she realised that he was completely oblivious to a soldier who was approaching him. Eponine's eyes flew around to see if anyone else had noticed, but they were all occupied. Marius had turned his back even further from the solider, reaching down to pick something up from the floor. He was in no position to be here. He was obviously not thinking clearly, and it was all Eponine's fault. The weight of responsibility hit her like a knife to the gut. She realised he was probably going to die because she had not given him Cosette's letter. Her feet seemed to move of her own accord. She had no time to think—only to act.

"NO!" she cried as she reached out and pulled away the rifle. She did not even register that she had aimed it at herself until she was blinded by a flash of light.

She was thrown backwards and hit the floor roughly. Her first thought was that her cap had flown from her head, letting her hair fall about her face and revealing her true identity. She saw Marius standing atop the barricade, holding a torch to what she realised was the keg of gun powder he had been reaching for.

"Fall back!" he cried. "Fall back or I will blow up the barricade!"

She did not register what was said after that. She had become aware of a red hot pain in her left shoulder. Suddenly feeling breathless, she placed her hand to the source of her pain. When she pulled it away, she saw that it was crimson with blood—her blood. A sickening, knowing sensation settled over her. She became aware that a different kind of commotion had taken over the barricade; she heard several different men cry out at once.

"What were you thinking Marius?! You could have got us all killed!"

"Marius you saved us all!"

"My life is not yours to risk, Marius!"

And in the distance, she heard Enjolras's voice. "Man the barricade," he sounded so far away, she wondered if he would notice her.

"Eponine, what are you doing?"

She looked up to see Marius standing before her as a few drops of ran splashed onto her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her words were harder to form than she had anticipated; her voice was hoarse and barely recognised it. Marius crouched beside her.

"What have you done?" he asked. His face was full of concern, moving her so that she was cradled in his arms. Eponine let out a shaky half sob as she realised that she had accomplished what she came to the barricades to do. Marius must have forgiven her for not giving him the letter. Gently, Marius moved her hand from her shoulder and saw the blood weeping from her wound, turning her white shirt red.

"'Ponine! My God," he cried, pulling her closer into his arms.

"It is nothing."

"You're going to be ok, do you hear me? You will live, you're going to live. If I could cure you with words of love, I…"

"Love?" she cut him off.

"Yes, love," he said, his voice shaking and his face pale and frightened. Eponine let out a sigh. How ironic—with Cosette gone, he had finally returned her feelings, but it was too late. Her time had come and there was nothing to do now but comfort the poor boy.

~X~

It had begun to rain.

"Get the ammunition inside," Enjolras instructed the men nearest him. The soldiers had retreated for now thanks to Marius's quick thinking, but they had to get ready for the next attack.

The bustle around him stilled inexplicably; the silence of a funeral settled across the barricade. People had become distracted; they were crowding around something—or someone. Combeferre was standing amongst them, looking truly distraught.

A sickly sweet sound reached Enjolras ears, turning his stomach.

"Now don't you fret, Monsieur Marius. I don't feel any pain."

A voice he knew as well as his own, although it sounded somehow different, was singing a song he had heard many times before.

"A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now."

It was Eponine's song, the one he had heard her sing many times to baby Gavroche in Montfermeil when he had fallen over and scraped his knees. She had even sung it to Enjolras when he had told her of his mother's death.

He pushed his way to the front of the gathering crowd, and would have gone directly to her, if he had not heard Marius's words.

"I'm here, Eponine."

"That's all I need to know." She smiled weakly up at the boy, her hand reaching up to stroke his cheek.

He stopped himself and let her have her moment with Marius, knowing would probably be her last. The thought caused a physical ache in his heart. He turned to Joly, standing beside him, and grasped his elbow so tightly that Joly winced. The look on Enjolras's face must have communicated more than his words ever could have.

"There's nothing I can do," Joly whispered mournfully with a shake of his head.

Enjolras knew he was right, but… how could this be happening? Why had she followed Marius here when he had asked her not to?

"And you will keep me safe, and you will keep me close," Eponine sang, her voice getting smaller.

"No, Eponine," Marius said.

"Let it be."

She looked at peace with her own mortality. Gavroche had hidden his face behind Courfeyrac's coat. Enjolras had spent so much of his adult life trying to protect himself from this kind of pain, and he was woefully unprepared for it now. It would have been easier for him to cope if he had been the one with the bullet wound instead of Eponine. He would have given anything to let his grief show—to shout at the people who gaped at her as she lay bleeding on the floor. He wanted them all to leave her alone; he wanted to take her in his arms and stop the blood. He had not felt anything this strong since the day his Mére had died.

But he did none of it—he was aware that everyone else on this barricade looked to him. If he lost it now, where would they be? Instead he stood there, sadly watching over her like a lone guard, grateful for the rain that disguised the tear he could not stop from rolling down his cheek.

"And rain….will make….the flowers…" her eyes left Marius's face, flitting around her, searching for something until they settled on Enjolras.

"…grow," she whispered only to him, as her eyes rolled back into her head and her body went limp in Marius's arms.

Marius let out an anguished cry and pulled her closer to himself. Enjolras could contain himself no longer as he rushed forwards and began to lift Eponine out of Marius's arms. He couldn't stand to see her there when Marius had never given her enough thought in her life.

He was about to pick her up, when he felt her being taken from him. He looked up, ready to rebuke whoever was taking her away. It was Combeferre.

"It's better if I take her Enjolras," he said. "The people are counting on you."

Reluctantly, he allowed her to be taken away. He sat on the floor next to Marius, his strength deserting him as he watched Combeferre leave with Eponine's lifeless body.

~X~

Combeferre placed Eponine's limp form on the floor of the tavern that they had planned to use as a hospital.

"We fight here in your name," he said in a silent promise to the girl he had hardly known.

He turned to leave a moment too soon. If he had waited a second more, he would have heard her gasp and seen the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

(A/N – Admit it, I had you all scared there! I promise I will get the next chapter up as soon as I can.)

*le drapeau Français – The French Flag