I'm back! So its been a while but school work got a little much. Plus I wanted to rewrite this chaoter as I was never really happy with it. Well three rewrites later.
Thanks for the reviews, good and bad. I only write fanfiction to improve my actual writing. As for a few comments, if you don't like something (like a couple) that I've said will happend in the summery please don't read. There are a lot of popular non-cannon couples I don't like but don't flame thier authors, everyone has different ideas :)
I warn you now what is plausable for me may not be for other people... my mind is bizarre.
As always I still don't own Les Miserables (boo) but I do own Pierre.
Pierre lowered his gun. The two boys were now slumped on the floor. The soldiers around him did the same. He moved over and checked the two men for a pulse.
"Dead sir." He said to the general.
"That's the last of them then. I'll report this back to the state. Clear up the bodies. A mass grave will have to hold them." The general said and left. Pierre looked down and laughed to himself.
"Sir? Are they dead?" One of the soldiers asked, eventually.
"One is, the other has a faint pulse. Are the carts here yet?"
"Both are. How many did we kill?"
"Hopefully not many. The generals can never know about we did." Pierre then turned and picked up the injured boy. A faint groan of pain came from the boy before his body feel completely limp. He quickly carried him out and towards the two carts that would clear up the barricades.
"Which one is which?" He asked. He was an officer and had authority, this entire scheme had been his idea the others had gone along with it.
"Left is for the dead, right is for the hospital." One of the drivers told him.
"Thank you." He carefully laid the boy down. He watched some of the other soldiers carry out the other one. He was clearly dead and they lay him down in the other cart. Other soldiers were carrying unconscious or dead men over or even helping the conscious men to walk. One was helping a student over, Pierre quickly intercepted and took over as this mans crutch. He helped him over to the cart and carefully lowered him down to a sitting position.
"How are we alive?" The student asked, with shaky breath.
"You aren't the only ones who rebelled against the state. We organised within the guards to avoid killing the men at the barricade. Too many would have died."
"What about those who did, Bahoral was shot before our eyes. On your side. How is that avoiding killing?"
"If we had saved him then we'd have been killed too. We have families as well."
"I'm sorry." The student went quiet. Pierre looked at the young man. That was when he noticed the blood on his right shoulder. His right arm hung limply down his side. Pierre touched the boys arm but no reaction came.
"You need to go to the hospital; your arm is badly injured." The boy didn't resist. His fighting sprit was gone, his arm must cause him more pain then he was letting on, "by the way, what is your name?"
"Courferac, and yours?"
"Pierre." A young solider walked over at this point.
"Sir, that's all of the living." Pierre nodded and signalled to the driver to leave.
"If only we could have saved more."
"How sir?"
"Who knows, let's get back to helping."
A week later the dead from both sides were thrown into a mass grave, unless they had been indentified. Many hadn't. The surviving would-be revolutionaries had been hidden in a hospital until any clothing that would give their identities away was removed, and then they were moved into the main hospital. If anyone asked the Doctors and Nurses would say they were caught in the barricade and that they of course supported the government. They had no idea, many were unconscious. As for Pierre? A careless piece of paper had been left lying around. On it was details of the plan. This piece of paper was found, by a general. After examining it he recognised Pierre's hand. A week later he had Pierre executed. His last words were
"I'd do it again."