Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis
Also, apologizes in advance.
Bullets are flying everywhere, shouts and screams echo around the street and Enjolras visibly winces at every gunshot. He's not nearly as brave as they think he is. Nevertheless, he's still front and center, fighting for something much bigger than him, even though he knows that it's going to fail. He ducks out of the way of an oncoming bullet and jumps off the barricade to reload his gun. He sees her, standing off to the side, handing out weapons to the other boys and he says a silent "thank you" to whatever god there is that she's safe.
She can't leave me. Not yet.
As he's in the middle of reloading his gun, he notices an eerie silence settle over the street. His head snaps up, and there's Marius, standing atop the barricade with a torch and a barrel of gunpowder in his hands. He immediately moves forward, trying his hardest to stay silent in case any sudden noise makes the enemy fire. As he's halfway up the stairs he sees it. A member of the National Guard has his gun pointed directly at Marius, and the boy is completely unaware, in the middle of a stare-down with the officer. Enjolras moves faster now, determined to save him, but someone gets there first.
No no no no no not her no no please don't do this no
Before he can reach her, or even shout at her, he sees Éponine's tiny hands reach out and grab the barrel of the gun, pointing it directly at her chest. A loud bang erupts and he watches as she falls backwards, red cap falling off her her head.
No.
In the distance he hears the enemy officer withdraw and retreat back down the alley. Marius is too busy celebrating his small victory to notice what just happened, so Enjolras grabs the flaming torch out of his hands and runs down the stairs. Marius follows, confused. It isn't until he reaches the ground that he sees her. Marius rushes over to her, picking her up while Enjolras stops dead in his tracks, unable to move.
His heart shatters the minute he sees the blood. There's so much blood. Too much blood.
Éponine smiles up at Marius and Enjolras' heart cracks just a little more. He tries to move forward, to go to her side, but his feet are glued to this very spot and he can do nothing but stare as the girl he loves (the girl he worships) dies in the arms of the one that she loves, the one that she worships.
Éponine is talking to Marius, smiling, putting on a brave face for her audience. Enjolras admires her insane bravery and her ability to be happy even in the midst of death. Dying in Marius' arms is what she would have wanted, Enjolras thinks, even though his entire being aches for her.
Her words are coming out much slowly now, her body quaking from pain. Marius is sobbing and crying and Enjolras is pretty sure that he hates him right now. It's not fair that he gets this moment. It's not fair that he's crying over her when he didn't even notice her until she was dying in his arms.
It should be me, he thinks. I love you. Me. It should be me, die with me. Not him. No.
Propelled by his thoughts, he moves forward, determined to not miss this moment, to be there for her when the light disappears from her eyes.
"I think I was a little bit in love with you," he hears her slur. A smile is on her face and there are her dimples, his favorite part of her out on full display, but looking so different than they did two, three, four hours ago. She turns her head, searching for her leader, and Enjolras isn't quite sure if those words were meant for him or the blind boy she's desperately clinging to.
Marius leans down to kiss her forehead and suddenly Enjolras is right there and he's holding her hand but it's too late. Éponine's breathing stops and her small, yet calloused, fingers loosen around his grip but he won't let go, can't let go. Combeferre comes over to take her away but Enjolras refuses to let go of her hand. Marius is still leaning against the barricade, tears running down his face, but he's relinquished his hold on her body and allows Combeferre to pick her up. The two of them have to physically pry Enjolras' hand away, and it isn't until he sees her swaying from Combeferre's arms that he realizes that he's crying and that he is shaking and that she is gone.
She's gone. Her passion is gone. Her dimples are gone. Her eyes, her smile, her words. All gone. Everything is gone gone gone.
It finally strikes Enjolras just how wrong his friends are. He is not Apollo, the god of light and truth. No, he is Hades, the god of death and Éponine is his Persephone. He guided her to this destruction, this portal of death, tempting her with the fruit of a better future. She willingly took a bite and he tied her to his world of ruin. He did not tell her to leave; did not tell her to seek refuge somewhere else or to get out while she could. No, instead he kept her here for selfish purposes, to have one more minute with her. She was his light, and without her, he is nothing but a man sentenced to eternal darkness.
He is the worst kind of person. A hypocrite, a sheep in wolf's clothing. He isn't brave, not in the slightest. He is selfish and all deserving of this fate. Nobody deserves eternal darkness more than him. He is the god of death, and Éponine was just his first victim.
Just like Persephone, she sacrificed her days in the sunlight of youth to spend eternity in a pit of darkness. However, both her and Enjolras know that she won't ever get to see the light again. Demeter is not here to save her or to grant Éponine six more months of life. No longer will the flowers bloom or the trees bud in her name. Éponine will never see another summer, for she is stuck in a never ending winter, destined to spend the rest of her life in the shadow of the underworld.
An eternity with me, Enjolras thinks.
He and Marius are still leaning against the barricade, still crying. The silence that settled over the street during Éponine's death has now ended, even though every single person feels the ache from watching the young girl sacrifice her life. No one can quite believe it.
"I love her," Enjolras whispers to Marius. It's the first time he's ever said it out loud, but he refuses to say it in the past tense. She may be gone but his love for her is just as alive as it was an hour ago.
"I know," Marius replies. Enjolras turns his head, shock registering on his face as he glances at his friend. "You didn't do a very good job at hiding it," Marius explains, shrugging.
"She loved you." Enjolras mumbles, staring at his still quivering hands. He thinks Marius has the right to know that Éponine sacrificed everything for him.
Look at the things she has done for you, you fool! You idiot! She gave up everything for you!
"I know," he admits again, shaking his head. "I knew all this time that she liked me and yet I sent her to find Cosette. I used her so much, Enjolras; I'm the worst kind of person." Marius is visibly shaking, his words escaping his lips faster now. "You have to understand, Enjolras, that she was my best friend. I loved her, but in a different way than she loved me. It was only platonic; brotherly in a way, but I valued her company and even when I knew that it was more than friendship to her I still kept her around because I needed her."
"She needed you." Enjolras tells him, his words biting. "She needed you and you just let her fawn all over you and how could you do that?!" He's almost yelling now, no longer afraid of what his friends might think of their fallen leader.
Marius lets him yell, and he watches as Enjolras literally slumps down, putting his hands on his face, leaning on his knees. He's sobbing now, trying to catch his breath, but it's not working. Nothing is working to stop this pain that he's feeling, this emptiness that now exists inside of him. Minutes, hours (he doesn't know) pass until he's run out of tears to cry.
There's nothing left.
"I need her." It's so quiet that Marius almost misses it, but he hears the pain behind Enjolras' voice, hears how much he his hurting. He reaches out and puts his hand on his shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. Enjolras lifts his head up, and the sorrow reflected in his eyes is enough to make any person fall to their knees.
"I think she needed you, too, in her own way." Marius informs him. He's not even lying; he genuinely believes that Éponine felt something for Enjolras. Maybe it wasn't love, but she valued his opinions and cared about him. Most of all, she trusted him, and that was almost as good as love in Éponine's eyes.
"Maybe." Enjolras looks out over the hell and the decay that his own hands created. He finds that he doesn't care anymore. This damned revolution is what took his love away, and he hates it. He hates what he's done, what he's caused, and most of all he hates himself. She would still be here if it weren't for him. His eyes are empty, devoid of everything except despair.
Marius has never seen Enjolras look like that, has never seen him so broken. He stands, staring down at the man whose strength and passion led them this far. Where did their powerful leader go?
"Come on, Apollo," Marius says as gently guides him to his feet. "You have a revolution to lead."
Enjolras flinches at the words.
Thank you so much for the kind reviews/follows/favorites. It really means a lot to me that you guys are enjoying this. There's only one more chapter to go, so stay tuned.
My greek mythology facts are minimal at best, so I apologize if I offend anyone. The way I see it, Enjolras & his revolution are causing all this death and destruction, and I believe that he'd feel guilty about it. Maybe not Book!Enjy but I certainly think that Musical!Enjy would be a wee bit sad that his friends are dying because of his beliefs.
In his twisted mind, Enjolras is Hades, god of death. Éponine is his Persephone because in a way, he "stole" her and made her come to the barricade. I interpret the Hades/Persephone love story as more one-sided on Hades part, and I think that's what applies here. While he didn't make her stay per se, he didn't force her to leave, either. Enjy is a terribly guilty and totally masochistic man.
Anyway, enough of my babble. Don't hesitate to argue/yell/throw things at me. Constructive criticims are always welcome.