A/N. School starts tomorrow after spring break. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't kill me, but this is for a purpose, I promise you. I promise. I know this isn't it happens in the Brick, but this needs to happen and it needs to be now. This was not without a point.

I'm sorry.

The Cafe Musain was filled with guns. Eponine thought it a disconcerting sight, as was the sight of Enjolras, fire in his eyes, counting cartridges. It was May 31st, and tensions had been building for a month. School was done, it had been done for a while, and the Amis were at the cafe nearly every day, making speeches, cockades, sewing banners and support. It reminded Eponine gruesomely of preparation for war.

They were growing excited. As the tensions were rising, so were their moods. President Lemarc was in the hospital, after suffering a deadly heart attack a few weeks prior. His condition was deteriorating by the day, and it only gave Enjolras more fuel for his fire. They had begun having peaceful riots outside the president's house, demanding change with no gunfire. Thousands streamed in every day, and the Musain was always full to bursting, with hundreds outside listening to the speech. Eponine had taken liberties as well, co-writing speeches, making banners and YouTube videos. By now, almost all of France, if not Europe, had heard of the Les Amis d'lAbaisse, and more and more supporters were seen every day. The Apollo's Angel's Twitter and Tumblr posts were almost always trending, they had millions of likes on Facebook, and their videos always appeared in the Most Watched section of Youtube.

Enjolras was at the center of it all, appearing in news broadcasts and doing interviews all about France, known as the Avenging Angel. The government had heard as well, and had issued a public statement that they would "not back down in the face of welfare and healthcare, even if it comes to violence." Enjolras barely slept and barely ate, yet there were no dark circles under his eyes and he never lost weight. And as for his affection towards Eponine, it grew more and more every day, them being known as the "Couple that Rocked the World," even if only for their long walks in the park.

But back to the matter at hand. It was Saturday, May 31st, and Eponine was finding guns in the cafe. Enjolras must have noticed her worried expression, for he came over. "This is only if it comes to violence. And believe me, that's the last thing that I want." She could only nod, knowing what had happened two years prior, how Enjolras had been shot and Courfeyrac had nearly died. The excitement of the fifteen core Amis was astounding, and Eponine seemed to be the only one who felt apprehension. They all seemed convinced above all else that the rebellion would work.

That night, Eponine went home early from the meeting, claiming a sore throat. Really, she only wanted to think. The noise in the cafe was too much, and the quiet of the house too stifling. Sitting on her bed, she got out her diary and began to write.

May 31st.

Dear Diary,

I'm scared. I'm terrified, to be honest. There's guns in the Musain and President Lemarc's nearly dead and Enjolras is a machine and I'm scared. I'm the only one who is. They think it's going to work, that it'll all be okay, but I feel like it won't be. I had this feeling once before, this ominous promise, and that was when the last rebellion happened. They nearly died, and now the feeling's stronger. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm praying that it will all work out in the end. Please, let it all be alright. We have so much to live for.

Eponine turned to the next page, ready to continue writing, but found, in alarm, that there were no more pages left. She had written on the last one.

There were no more pages left.

…...

The next day, Enjolras woke to a frantic banging on his door. He ran to open it, and it was Courfeyrac, with Gavroche in tow. "General Lemarc is dead," he said. "His funeral's on the fourth."

"Get the Amis. We're having a meeting tonight." Enjolras said, running a hand through his hair. "We need to tell them. We're going to his funeral. That's when we will rise. The phoenix will be reborn. We will succeed where others have failed. We will change the world."

Courfeyrac nodded. "Yes, Enjolras."

Gavroche grinned, saluting. "G'bye governa'. See ya tonight."

They closed the door, and Enjolras walked inside, immediately thinking in his head of a new speech. He let Eponine sleep, with everything that was going on, she could use a bit of peace.

…...

"This is a short meeting. You need to go home and prepare." Enjolras began. "General Lemarc is dead. His funeral is in three days. We are going, and we will show them who we are. I will give you the plan tomorrow, once I know it better myself."

The people in the room nodded, looking at one another. " On the tomb of Lemarc shall our barricade rise! The time is near!" Enjolras shouted.

"Let us welcome it gladly with courage and cheer!" exclaimed Courfeyrac.

"Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our hearts!" That was Bossuet.

Someone else joined. "With a jubilant shout!"

"They will come on and all!" More and more were joining the cry. "They will come when we call!" The whole room erupted into cheers, and Eponine's heart stopped beating.

…...

June 4th was a sunny day. It looked perfect, and surely most of Paris was outside, playing and having fun in the sun. Eponine and Enjolras and the Amis were outside as well, but it was much less then cheery. Crowds of thousands lined the streets, many of them Angels in disguise. They were waiting for Enjolras's command, for when the hearse rolled by and the plan could move into action.

Eponine was next to Enjolras, and they were wearing red. The color of rebellion, of passion, of love, of blood.

Of death.

Their hands were clasped, and Eponine had made him promise not to let go. He had a flag in one hand and in his pocket was a handgun, if the time came for such measures. They watched in silence as the hearse slowly came down the street, surrounded by an honor guard of men on horses, men with muskets, men with stoic expressions and cold eyes. Eponine was terrified.

Enjolras started the chant, a song that she had written, a song that all the thousand Amis had learned and taken to heart.

Do you hear the people sing?

Singing the song of angry men.

It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.

People all around, up the street and down the street, were taking up the chant. The others, ones who had come for the funeral and not for a revolution, were looking confused.

When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of your heart

Echoes the beating of the drums,

There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.

Enjolras and Eponine, Feuilly, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and all the rest of their band of misfits, the leaders of the Les Amis, of Apollo's Angels, were slowly making their way to the front of the crowd.

Will you join in our crusade?

Who will be strong and stand with me?

Somewhere beyond the barricade

Is there a world you long to see?

Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free!

Enjolras was slowly raising his red flag above his head, the one she had sewed out of his sheet. She had a cockade on, they were at the front of the crowd. The hearse was slowly approaching, the thirty or forty armed honor guard looking apprehensive.

Do you hear the people sing?

Singing the songs of angry men?

It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.

Enjolras was in the street, and she was running beside him. Courfeyrac was raising another banner, this one the colors of France. More of the Amis, faces she did not recognize, were pouring on to the street.

When the beating of your heart,

Echoes the beating of the drums,

There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.

The hearse had stopped, the street was filling with Angels. Enjolras was climbing on top of the black car, with Eponine beside him, raising the red flag. Courfeyrac was standing on the hood of the car, Combeferre beside him, Jean on the other side.

Will you give all you can give,

So that our banner may advance?

Some will fall and some will live!

Will you stand up and take your chance?

The blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of France!

Eponine was waving the red flag, triumphant. The hearse was moving again, slowly, at a crawl, the guard slowly advancing around the Amis. But there were steadily more of them. The Angels were coming, and coming, and coming, and there was a light in Enjolras's eyes, a mad and wonderful light, red with fire and passion.

Do you hear the people sing?

Singing the songs of angry men?

It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.

When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums,

There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!

The song ended, and Eponine was elated, filled with a strange, insane joy that frightened and excited her. She saw the same expressions on her friend's faces, the expressions saying: "We've done it, we've won!"

But they hadn't.

Suddenly, gunfire ripped through the clear air. The guardsmen were firing at them, almost as a warning. Many fled. Her Amis stayed. That strange, manic expression stayed on her face as she waved the flag, until...

Gunfire. A single shot, in the air, and piercing pain, ripping through her chest. Eponine felt herself drop the flag and nearly fall off the hearse. Enjolras caught her and lowered her to the car roof. "NO!" shouted Courfeyrac, and he shot the guardsmen. That was the last shot. The guardsmen fell, fell, fell, and all was silent.

Eponine lay on the roof of the car. She could see Enjolras, eyes crowding with tears. "You're going to be fine. You hear me, Eponine? You're going to live. You will live."

She felt herself shake her head, a sad smile on her face. "Don't stop this now," she said, voice rough with pain. "Don't stop the rebellion. Don't leave them. The Angels need you, Enjolras. The Amis need you. Finish what's begun. Build a better tomorrow." Her voice cracked, and she coughed, seeing the blood on the back of her hand. Enjolras was crying now. He pressed a hand to her cheek.

"How can I do it if you're not there?" she heard him ask, voice shaky, fire gone.

"You have to," she whispered.

"I can't."

"I love you," she said, with as much energy as she could muster, yet her words were barely perceptible.

"I love you," she heard him answer, and felt his lips on her forehead.

"Don't stop this now, you hear me. Finish it, finish it. I'll see you soon, I promise. Just don't leave them... don't leave..."

Her voice trailed off, and she felt herself lifting, lifting away, and saw her body grow cold on the roof of that hearse, saw the life drain from her and her heart stop, saw Enjolras, her Enjolras, break down in tears and curse at the sky.

A dead man's funeral, a young girl's grave.

QotC: Which of the Amis's death would you most love to take back?