Author's Note: Regarding slash, because some people over here were asking me about it… Well, there is none in this book of the series. You would have known if there was. There may or may not be some in some of the later books. IF it does appear, you will be warned and those of you who are not inclined to read it will be able to skip those particular stories and pretend it's all just strong friendship. Which it kind of is. I'm rather of the opinion that 90% of any real relationship is friendship anyway. I won't be able to completely ignore any slashy themes on Grantaire's part simply because it's in the book and if you think it isn't… well, it's like saying Dorian Gray doesn't have slash in it. Pylades and Orestes? Come on. But, once again, I'll try to have something for everyone :)

16th December

Amis seemingly lost faith in Cause – 4

Amis mysteriously missing from meeting – 1

Amis still worthy of the title – 1

Annoying drunkards – 1

Revolutions to be planned – still 1, despite alarming figures above

Walked into the Musain yesterday evening and felt strangely elated to see my comrades assembled there again and occupying the same tables they had occupied last time I had seen them before the Pointless July Revolution.

It should sadden me that nothing seems to have changed since then, that France is once more in need of societies like ours. But for some reason I felt happy instead. Maybe because, for these last few months, I had felt almost…. Lost is not the word for it. But perhaps, as Combeferre says, I am unfit for living in the everyday world.

The thought of what I will do if I survive the final fight for freedom is strangely frightening. I long for the Republic but I fear I may be incapable of living in it. France is all I have and, when she needs me no more, will there be a place for me?

But, even if that day is to come, it is still in the future. On the bright side, I will probably not survive at all.

Pitiful attempt at a joke, that. I was never too good at jokes.

Either way, the less I think of all this nonsense, the better. Here and now, there is work to be done.

In any case, it is quite unforgivable of me to feel joy on account of the whole country's suffering, isn't it? Nobody seemed to notice how I grasped hands and exchanged embraces at the café, as if the occasion was my Birthday and not a serious discussion about the fate of Mother France. Hell, I was even glad to see Grantaire yesterday. That, if nothing else, shows that I must have been truly going mad with nothing of consequence to do. Of course, the infuriating winesack managed to quickly get on my nerves by openly grinning from ear to ear and barely shutting his mouth for five minutes all evening. Who told him about the meeting anyway? Must have been Courfeyrac. Have always appreciated Courfeyrac's good heart but, have to say, his kindness is sometimes misplaced. As well as his mind, on occasion. How he has managed to do so much work for our little circle while apparently spending all of his time falling in and out of love with various women is beyond comprehension. If I didn't know better, I would say he was only interested in skirts.

Women annoy me. They seem to serve as nothing more than distractions. Nothing good has ever come out of men who keep their thoughts on girls rather than the job they are supposed to be doing. Then again, Courfeyrac has never failed to get the job done, so I suppose it is possible to incorporate one's romantic affairs into more serious matters. In any case, I shall never understand how it's done. Not that I wish to, naturally.

Had trouble starting the meeting because everyone was so preoccupied coming up to date with each other's lives. I had very little to share but I let them go on for almost half an hour before I tried to get down to business. I rarely listen to what they talk about outside of the subjects of our meetings but it occurred to me just then that I had missed their chatter.

Hmm. Just started wondering out of nowhere what I must have talked about with my friends when I was a young boy and had no political views. Distinctly remember having at least a few friends then. Although, can't seem to recall what happened to them, let alone our topics of conversation. Some of them must be studying at the University as well. (The friends, that is, not the topics.) Yet our paths haven't crossed. Or if they have, I haven't noticed.

Either way…

Back at the meeting, when I finally managed to bring up our tyrannical government, there seemed to be a slight air of 'we just had a revolution, do we really need another one?' among my friends. I realize I should have expected it but… I didn't. And it felt like betrayal.

Combeferre always talks to me about human nature and he is sometimes nearly as bad as Grantaire. He says that humans are imperfect and, while we all can and should strive to better ourselves, in the end we are sometimes forced to accept people's shortcomings. Very depressing view. Sometimes I think 'human nature' in itself is depressing.

Twice as depressing when demonstrated by your own friends!

Combeferre of all people, trusted second-in-command and all, should not have looked so doubtful when I started speaking of new plans. I mean, yes, he always looks doubtful when gunpowder enters the conversation but usually it's just his reluctance to cause harm. This time it seemed like he was unsure about our ideas in general. I've always feared he'd grow tired of me someday but I hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

The others were no better. Courfeyrac, whom I have always known to be a vehement supporter of our Cause, was paying more attention to the lady's handkerchief he was sniffing every five minutes than to me. Joly and L'aigle were exchanging apprehensive looks. For God's sake, they looked as if I was some half-crazed schoolteacher come to berate them about unfinished homework. Bahorel muttered agreements whenever I pronounced the word 'fight' but it looked like he was just doing it automatically.

I couldn't understand. We had given it almost half a year, hadn't we? We had waited to see if this new government would finally take care of the People. I mean, another monarchy was not what we had wanted in the first place but when they had all voted for giving the new king a chance, I had relented. I had been certain they would all change their minds when they saw the poor results of such misplaced trust. Instead, these hearts that had been previously filled with fire now seemed barely fit to be described as glowing embers. Did they think it had been a game? That our quest for justice had been a one-time enterprise and it had lost its charm?

Whatever it was, it had dampened their faith considerably. End result: faced with a room of less-than-enthusiastic Amis. Thought for a moment that Grantaire would laugh at me. And, by God, if he had done it, I would have hit him. Certainly wanted to hit something! And the damned drunk was smiling. Sitting in the corner with two bottles of wine in front of him and smiling, ever since the start of the meeting. The mockery in that smile was slowly frying my nerves. Had to repeatedly tell myself it was the usual mockery of the world in general and not specifically directed at poor 'Apollo'. (Although should not call self that on account of not being a Greek god, not even being Greek, and not being at all flattered by classic comparisons. Really.) Fact is, have never seen Grantaire smile without looking cynical so have no actual reason to assume he was purposefully making fun of me. And, to be fair, he didn't immediately open his mouth to make a comment about the less-that-fiery atmosphere in the room after my speech, so that was something of a blessing.

But since I couldn't find a proper excuse to berate the winesack, I was left with nothing to do but stand in front of my supposed fellow republicans and feel abandoned.

Then, thankfully, Prouvaire, bless his dear compassionate heart, started talking about children starving on the streets and the self-indulging bourgeois with such empathy that everyone finally became serious.

Everyone save for the winesack, of course, but that would have been too much to ask. Sometimes I think that even if God Almighty were to come down from the Heavens, he would not be able to force this man to behave.

As the meeting progressed with a more favorable air, he continued to stare at me, now sporting a smile that was about two inches short of splitting his face in half, and downed glass after glass of wine as if it was water.

"What, may I ask, do you find so pleasant about the pitiful state of our county, winesack?" I enquired finally, unable to take it anymore.

"The Sun is ablaze again!" he replied loudly, saluting me with his glass. "Apollo has returned to us. Poverty sounds so much more glorious and noble from your lips than when I see it on the streets. I cannot help but rejoice."

I glared at him but clenched my jaw to keep from replying. It would do no good. A conversation with Grantaire is a sure way to waste your time. I should really show him the way one of these days. The only thing stopping me is that the others seem to be amused by him.

However, what bothers me more than our resident drunk's incoherent babbling is the fact that Feuilly was missing and nobody seems to know why. Cannot imagine him of all people not rising to the occasion. Will have to check what's going on.

As I was gathering my papers, I noticed there was a sheet there covered in Prouvaire's writing. It was a short poem. I read it and smiled. I'm willing to bet he'd left it on purpose. I stuck it between the pages of the diary in case I feel like looking at it again. Dear Jehan…