Esmeralda woke with a startle, her eyes snapping open to see an unfamiliar ceiling, as she laid in an unfamiliar bed. She tried pushing herself up from the mattress, but was only greeted with a searing pain running up and down the left side of her arm. She hissed as she cradled her upper-arm and inspected the bloody bandages that were tied around her wound.
Her head jerked up to the sound of her door swinging open to see a rather young man walk through.
"Oh good, you're finally awake," he said softly.
Her eyes roamed the man's appearance. His white shirt was tucked neatly into his dress pants while the sleeves were neatly rolled upwards past his elbows. He adorned a pair of rectangular glasses on his face, that finished off his intelligent aura he presented in front of her.
"I'm William, I study medicine at the nearby university, so I'm the assigned medic here," he explained, slowly walking over to the empty chair that sat next to Esmeralda's bed. "I'm just here to change your bandages."
"Does that mean you know Combeferre and Joly?" Esmeralda asked eagerly.
The man looked at her through the black strands of his hair as his head was bent and focused on unwrapping her arm.
"…You know those two?" He resumed the work he had momentarily paused, cleaning the blood from her arm with care to not hurt her.
"They're my dear friends," Esmeralda explained, with a far off look in her eye. "Please, you must tell me if they're in the next barricade over."
"And what are you going to do with that information?" It was a rhetorical question, Esmeralda could tell by the sarcastic drawl in his tone. "Leave to find them and get yourself kill along the way?"
"If that's what it takes for me to see them again."
Her deep green orbs made contact with William's. His eyes were a startling shade of royal blue, they were definitely striking, but they didn't hold a candle to Enjolras' eyes in Esmeralda's opinion.
"My, my, aren't you a gutsy mademoiselle." His tone of mocking, as if he was making fun of her, but his hands cleaned the wound on her arm with a gentleness that his voice lacked.
"One must be gutsy in times like these, monsieur," she said softly, her eyes not leaving the man in front of her.
William sighed tiredly, turning back to his work to wipe the final bits of dried blood off her skin.
"Too much confidence will only lead to one's own demise in the end," he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his straight nose, "You should be careful when making use of it."
"You make it sound like it's something you can switch on and off," Esmeralda replied, watching the man wrap a clean bandage around her slender arm.
"It's a hard art to master, controlling your emotions." His hands were nimble as they tied a firm knot in the bandage. "But thankfully I've had my whole life to master it, so one could say I'm a genius."
He didn't elaborate further on his last comment before standing up from the small chair, walking towards the door with slow and careful steps. Esmeralda watched his broad back as he got further away from her, his last words had only confused her mind – making her think long and hard about what he had said.
"Your name."
His voice jerked her out of her deep thoughts.
"What?"
"Your name," he repeated, turning back to her slightly as he held the door open for himself. "You didn't tell me it."
She opened her mouth and paused for a second to meet the man's eyes, "Esmerelda," she answered softly.
Her emerald eyes caught his once more as he nodded at her answer, a small smile gracing his lips.
"I'll find out for you… the location of your 'friends'."
Before she could even utter the words 'thank you', he had shut the door behind him, leaving her to swim in her own thoughts in loneliness.
She gazed through the windows and into the street below, watching William emerge from the building to tend to other wounded from earlier today. The night had arrived with it's darkness in tow, the glow from the flaming torches and candles providing the only light source for the young men that lounged around the barricades with pistols in hand. Esmeralda wondered what the Les Amis were doing now, if they were okay, how many lives they had lost. Thinking about it seemed to only make her more anxious then she already was, so she decided to sleep for now and find them in the morning.
Enjolras and the rest of the men's head jerked up at the sound of a gunshot ringing into the night; the volunteer had killed the spy. His eyes caught the shake of disapproval from Combeferre as he bandaged someone's injured arm. The night was growing old as the men around him lounged in their spots on the barricade, some eating what food was left, others polishing their weapons for the fights to come. He watched the volunteer emerge back out from the building and give a slight nod to him, which he replied with as well. Something about that man was oddly familiar, yet his mind couldn't seem to put a name to a face for him as of yet.
"Courfeyrac, you take the watch." Enjolras looked down at the man, sitting below him on the barricade, "They may attack before it's light. Everybody keep the faith, for certain as our banner flies. We are not alone; the people too must rise."
Enjolras' piercing blue eyes spied Marius, still working away on the other side of the barricade by throwing what furniture or barrels they had left on to it.
"Marius, rest," he said softly to the man.
Marius paused in this work before hesitantly setting down the wooden chair he had in his hands. Enjolras knew his comrade was grieving the death of Éponine from earlier in the evening, so Marius had decided to absorb himself in the work, to help take his mind of it.
"Drink with me to days gone by…" Grantaire's soft mellow voice echoed through the cool air.
Everyone's faces lit up slightly as a large bottle of wine was passed round, filling the air with a jovial mood. Enjolras crossed the street and entered the opening room of the café, the voices of his comrades growing quieter as he walked away.
"To the life (to the life) that used (that used) to be (to be)
At the shrine of friendship, never say die
Let the wine of friendship never run dry
Here's to you and here's to me."
The group silenced themselves as they listened to Grantaire's soft mellow words.
"Drink with me to days gone by
Can it be you fear to die?
Will the world remember you
When you fall?
Could it be your death
Means nothing at all?
Is your life just one more lie?"
Enjolras' brows furrowed at the meaning of Grantaire's thought evoking words. His own emotions and mind were in turmoil with each other, how could a man like him be so caught up with the fear of dying, all of a sudden? All Enjolras had left was this rebellion and his comrades that stood by his side, Esmeralda wasn't here to comfort his poor lonely soul, nor would she be here ever again.
"Why do I care if I will die?
Now she goes across the sea."
Valjean's eyes narrowed as the melodic voice carried its way through the air to his place on the balcony window.
"Esmeralda, you left nothing for me."
His head jerked at his daughter's name, his feet were already moving; carrying his body to the source of the voice.
"Would you weep your love
If I were to fall?
Would you weep…
Your tears
For me?"
Valjean stopped around the corner, only peaking around it to see the owner of the melodic voice, was this man Enjolras? His eyes widened as his eyes caught the sore sight of the golden-curled leader, his body emblazoned with revolutionary red as he lounged on wooden stool in the corner of the room. Valjean sighed irritably, of course Esmeralda would pick the leader of the rebellion to fall in love with. The young man was a revolution in human flesh, his cold burning eyes betrayed his angelic features as he stared into the space in front of him. Apollo, Valjean had heard them call him, a fitting name to the god that held the company of man around him. However, Valjean felt fear sink into the pit of his stomach, for if this man was the leader it will be a much harder task to keep him alive.
The lad was so young, yet within that young mind was enough wisdom and knowledge that would make an elderly historian envious. Somehow, this young man had managed to capture Esmeralda's delicate heart, whether it be with his brilliant scheming mind or with his angelic looks, Valjean didn't care; all he cared about was that Esmeralda loved him.
Valjean stepped carefully into the room, the creaking of the floorboards under his weight alerted the young man, causing him to rise from his chair and to snap out of whatever deep thoughts were encased in the young mind of his.
"Monsieur, I believe I know you," Valjean started softly, "Your name is Enjolras, am I wrong?"
"Yes, indeed it is monsieur, Alexandre Enjolras is the name I bare." Enjolras' eyes widened every so slightly at the knowledge of this man knowing his name.
Valjean paused, carefully choosing his next words.
"You carry a flaming torch in your heart, monsieur." Enjolras' brows furrowed in confusion at this, what was the man going on about?
"The fire for the revolution has always burned bright within me, monsieur."
"Not that flame lad," Valjean clarified, his palms were sweaty as they clenched in fists at his side, "The torch for my daughter, Esmeralda."
Enjolras inhaled deeply, that's what it was, he realized. The man was Esmeralda's father, her chaperone that the Les Amis never really paid attention to when they were too focused on enjoying her time and company with them. Enjolras felt his legs move on their own, moving back a step to place more space between him and Esmeralda's father. Now wonder he didn't relate the two people together, the man in front of him had no resemblance to Esmeralda whatsoever. The man's skin was pale, wrinkled with time and carried the lines of exhaustion as if he had endured the pains of a lifetime; it contrasted deeply to Esmeralda's deeply tanned, youthful olive skin. There was no sign of any green in the father's iris', only the deep greyness of a storm was held in the man's coloured orbs; there was no sign of Esmeralda.
"My apologies for not recognising you monsieur." He had pointed a gun at him! Everyone had pointed a gun at the man. "If you are here now, then where is Esmeralda? Is she not travelling to England this very moment?"
Enjolras couldn't help firing his questions at the man, he wanted closure. He wanted the sweet relief that Esmeralda was away from this fighting, from all this bloodshed and yet at the same time his heart wanted her here, beside him.
Valjean's eyes were sad and solemn as he glanced to the ground before replying.
"Well, I was hoping you'd be able to let me know that."
"Mademoiselle!"
Esmeralda stirred slightly at the sound, before being shaken awake roughly by a pair of strong hands on her shoulders.
"Now is not the time to sleep Esmeralda, we must hurry!" William's voice entered her conscience, jerking her fully awake with his urgent tone.
He pulled her to her feet, not even giving her time for her legs to gain strength for stumbling out of the room, his rough hand clutched in hers. They both rushed down the stairways, Esmeralda still dazed and confused with sleep as William forced her to slip on a pair of shoes and roughly shoved her hair into a hat.
"William, what's going on? Why are we in such a rush?" She shrugged on her large coat,
The dull ache on her arm was a reminder of her gunshot wound, still healing slowly; it hung loosely at her side while William's firm grip held onto her right hand as he ushered her out of the back entrance of the building into a small alleyway.
The sun had not even risen over the horizon fully yet, the red sky above her was a deep vibrant red mixed with streaks of yellow. The louds shouts and screams seemed to echo into the dawn from the street where William had just dragged her from. The sound of pounding footsteps grew closer and suddenly Esmeralda was pressed firmly between the brick wall of the alley and William's long body, his hand clamped over her mouth. They both waited until the only sound they could hear was the shallow breathes they took, before moving away from each other.
Esmeralda's eyes stared at William accusingly, wanting answers.
"What on earth is happening?! Why are we here?" She whispered furiously.
Before he even replied, William seized her hand and dragged her further down the long alley.
Not accepting this as an answer, Esmeralda tried pulling her small hands free of Williams', but it was no use, his grip was like a viper curling around it's prey, not willing to let go at any costs.
"William, I swear-"
"Will you be quiet?" Finally turning back to her, his deep royal blue eyes stared into her soul. "The soldiers… they managed to get over our barricade earlier."
He kept his voice low as he spoke to her, still keeping his fast pace with her hand gripped in his as they both weaved through the tiny alleyways between the houses. A secret passageway out.
"They… They got over?" Esmeralda asked incredulously.
"Yes, they got over," repeated William with an irritated sigh, "If I had gotten to you any later both of us would be lying dead in the streets by now."
Esmeralda shuddered at the thought, but felt her eyes widen as a new realisation settled upon her inquisitive mind.
"What about the others?" she asked desperately, tugging William to a stop.
"Others? What others do you speak of?"
"The other barricades! Have they fallen as well?!" Her voice was raising with panic, the thought of her friends lying dead seemed to set her off.
William's head jerked in all directions, checking if anyone had seen them or heard them before placing his hand on Esmeralda's rosy lips in attempt to silence her.
"Will you quieten down? We'll be found at this rate," he whispered furiously before tugging her hand to urge her to walk on again. "All I know is that there's only one barricade left, the one in front of the café."
Esmeralda grabbed William's left arm with both hands, ignoring the spike of pain when she forcefully moved her arm.
"You must take me there; my friends are there!" she whispered urgently, the desperation clear in her eyes.
William's dashing blue eyes narrowed incredulously at her as she said this and took a daring step closer to her.
"Have you lost your mind? I'm trying to get us out of the barricades here, and here you are asking to go back!" She was practically running to her death, he realized. "By judging how long it took for those guards to destroy our barricade, their next attack will be in less than half an hour. If you go there now, Esmeralda, there will be no escape for you! People have barred their doors, no one has come to our call, everyone has turned their backs on us. Those men are trapped in there, because once you go through there's no coming back."
"Then how were we supposed to leave?!" she snapped back furiously.
"The only way I know," he lowered his voice as much as he can, "The sewers."
The sewers?
She had completely forgotten the sewers existed, how they provided an underground passageway around the whole city of Paris.
It was their only hope.
"I have to find them and tell them of this!" Esmeralda wrestled her hand from William's grip with surprising strength causing his fingers to slip from her ever so slightly.
"I didn't save your life back there just so you could throw it away again," his eyes were a blue storm of anger as he glared into Esmeralda's eyes.
"I never asked you to save my life!" she whispered back angrily.
She was losing precious time, time that would help her meet everyone again, to tell them of the escape route, to tell them she loved them one last time before death claimed them all. She couldn't afford losing that chance by spending too much time arguing in an alley with a man she barely knew. Although she had only known William for a short amount of time, she had come to understand some baffling aspects of his character. He used his sarcasm and anger to hide the fact that he truly cares for her well-being, it reminded her a lot like someone she knew.
"I can't leave with you William," she whispered softly. "There are men, who I care for, left at the barricade. I have to be with them."
She took his hand in both of hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. William's piercing gaze softened ever so slightly, as he gazed at her one final time.
"Even if it mean's you'll die with them?" He whispered.
She smiled sadly, her eyes crinkling.
"Better to die with the people you love than to die on your own."
William's hands fell from Esmeralda's, his grip completely gone from her hands as he stepped away from her. He had no idea why on earth he wanted Esmeralda to live so badly, maybe it was because of his natural instincts as a doctor to want his patients to survive. However, he knew in a deep part of his brain there was no way of convincing her out of this. He saw the unwavering fire that burned in her eyes, a flame that he knew if he'd touch it he'd only get burned. He watched her go, picking herself up into a jog before disappearing around the corner, towards the last barricade standing. He watched her throw her life away, just to see some men one last time.
What an idiot, he thought.
But then again,
What did he know?
AN: OKAY I know I ended on another sort of cliff hanger but honestly I had to this time otherwise the chapter would've been way too long. Favourite, Follow and Review if you've enjoyed it so far!