Another chapter with the approval of my awesome Beta JudyBear236! Thanks!
Thank you for all the reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter - and if I may do a little promotion - if you are a Charmed fan, I recently started a Prue/Valjean fic - In the arms of the Angel. Take a peek if you are bored!
DISLCAIMER: Don't own them!
CHAPTER 12
Chaos ruled at the barricade. Dead bodies were strewn about and blood seemed to seep from every corner. Although many of them had fallen, the revolutionaries seemed determined not to give up.
Another one of his bullets pierced a young man's chest and he turned his face away as he fell limply onto the ground.
Javert could not understand why he felt such regret at the realisation that the young man's death was born from his gun.
It was his job to defend Paris. He had to do it for it was right.
Everything seemed to freeze as he looked up. His eyes locked with those of a tall man with curly blonde hair – the leader of the revolutionaries if rumours were to be believed.
The determined expression in his eyes unsettled Javert much more than the gun aimed directly at his heart.
He would die for his country. He did not fear that.
A too familiar voice, however, caused fear to drop into his heart like a brick.
"No! Don't!"
"Éponine."
She had pushed him away before he could stop her and he barely had time to register her clever disguise before something else tore through his mind.
Red.
Their eyes met before Éponine attempted to take a step forward. Her body tumbled to the ground as her knees buckled and Javert moved forward swiftly, gathering her trembling body into his arms.
He could find no words as he looked at her, desperately trying to stop the blood flowing from her stomach.
Around them, everything seemed to have come to a halt.
Revolutionaries let down their guns along with Enjolras, pale at the sight of one of their own, one of their friends, on the ground in the hated inspector's arms.
Behind the pair, the soldiers did the same – their eyes glued to their fierce comrade, sitting in a miserable heap with a woman from the gutter in his arms.
Neither Javert nor Éponine noticed. They were aware of nothing but each other.
Javert shook his head as Éponine opened her mouth. He pressed a finger against her lips tenderly.
"Don't try to speak… I'll get you out of here. I'll get you to a doctor, I swear."
Her eyes fluttered closed as she attempted to smile. His heart broke as she squeezed his hand and moved her head from side to side faintly.
"Don't give up. Éponine, it is not too late. Don't you dare give up."
His hoarse voice sounded strange even to his own ears.
For the first time in his life, Eugene Javert felt fear and he loathed it. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her forehead.
"I love you. I love you and I will not allow you to die, do you hear me?"
The red flag had fallen, but he was not aware of that. He was not aware of the shocked expressions on all the faces around him either.
The woman he loved was dying in his arms and he refused to let that happen.
Everything around her seemed blurry and slow. Here and there she recognized people lying on the ground, their eyes wide open without seeing.
As much as she tried, she could not move. Her entire body felt cold and numb.
A sound escaped from her dry lips and Javert looked down. Overwhelming concern shone in his eyes.
"Can… Éponine, can you talk?"
She gathered enough strength to nod against his chest. Javert waited, careful not to push her.
"I'm…cold."
His arms tightened around her and she could swear she saw fear flashing over his face.
"Hold on. Just promise me you'll hold on."
Éponine closed her eyes, focusing all her attention on the steady rhythm of his heart as he made his way through the streets.
The light was fading fast, yet she desperately tried to cling to it.
She couldn't die. She did not want to die – not now that she had finally found happiness.
Life could not be that cruel.
Pain seemed to tear her entire body apart as she coughed, the iron taste of blood dripping down her throat.
Somewhere in the distance she could hear horses. Voices followed. She could only register a few words – a broken conversation.
"Jean Valjean.
Help us. Help her, she is dying. I love her.
Please. Help her."
Éponine winced as she felt her body being lifted up. Javert's voice was still there, whispering frantically in her ear – begging her not to die. Another voice was suddenly there.
It was gentle and calm. She frowned as she tried to listen to his words.
"Stay with us. We will take you to a hospital. You'll be alright."
Through the haziness, Éponine swore she could hear Javert mutter a soft thank you.
Of course, she could not say for sure.