8/4/13
I am so sorry for the long wait! I have been overwhelmed with work and have has no spare time what so ever!
Thanks for all your reviews and faves and follows!
Sarahbob – Thanks a lot I am so glad you like and this chapter will be the same as WMAL but all from Combeferre's POV
ConcreteAngelRoxHerHalo – I just could not resist!
Magpie of Silver – As I said to angel, it was just too good an opportunity to waste, glad you like
Juliet116 – Maybe our resident drunkard is more cunning than he seems, you'll have to read to find out!
Chapter 6
Combeferre was still in shock. They had all been ready for him to shoot into the air, then start a fight so they could get Enjolras out of there. But Grantaire went and did this. He couldn't go sacrificing himself for Enjolras, he just couldn't; but yet it was something only Grantaire would dare to do. That man had such a low opinion of his life that he was willing to drink himself to death, basically commit suicide and sacrifice himself for Enjolras. Combeferre hated to think it, but he was glad Grantaire had done this. The lingering doubts in the back of his mind told him that they would never have all got out of here with the amis' hare-brained scheme. Those doubts now returned with renewed vigour telling him all the things he never wanted to believe.
You'd have got them all killed for nothing! Even the drunkard can come up with a better plan than you managed. Enjolras was supposed to be your brother and you can't save him. The voice in his head insisted on shattering his morale into thousands of tiny pieces until nothing remained. Everyone had a cynic inside them; it was just that Lucien Combeferre's seemed to be more violent than others. He had been told it was due to self-confidence issues; he just wished it would leave him alone. He looked up to the stage for the much needed confidence from his best friend and little brother but Enjolras looked like he was frozen solid in shock and horror.
"I am the real Ricard Enjolras, let the boy go. He is innocent," Grantaire announced sternly and everyone's attention was drawn back to him. Unfortunately, the head of police, who everyone knew to have a grudge against all revolutionaries, jumped onto the stage to address Grantaire directly with fury radiating from every bone in his body.
"Liar, we all know this is Enjolras!" he screamed from the stage and Combeferre winced. No one ever wanted to have a one on one standoff with that man. However, Grantaire looked unfazed and maybe even slightly cocky. "That child is just the façade the real Enjolras hides behind," Grantaire declared holding his chin up proudly. "You cannot seriously expect the leader of a successful revolution to go around declaring his identity to anyone who asked," he chuckled to spite the hateful man. The chief's anger built, reaching new heights, but he still remained stoic when speaking with Grantaire.
"Why reveal yourself now then, oh mighty leader?" he asked with a jokey, sarcastic bow and a slight growl resonating in his gruff voice.
"I will not let an innocent boy die in my place. Take me, not him," he announced through the gasps in the crowd.
Combeferre feel his jaw slacken in shock even though he knew that would be coming. There must be more to his plan. He wouldn't just throw himself in there with the dogs. All the man did was laugh. "Then we shall take both of you," he cackled ordering his men to advance as two others restrained Enjolras. Grantaire shot into the air again and Combeferre flinched at the noise.
"I thought I said, stop!" he shouted so that his powerful voice bounced off everything lining the square. "You think I would come here alone for this trade," he laughed. "I have armed men waiting in every corner of this square, if you try to double cross … they start shooting," he threatened and Combeferre grumbled.
"And what if you are lying?" the guardsman asked and Grantaire chuckled. Grantaire was now including all them in his stupid plan without giving them any warning. Combeferre raised his gun slightly and firing into the sky and prayed the others would follow his lead, for Grantaire and Enjolras' sake. Another shot came from the back of the square and soon they were all echoing around the square. Combeferre watched as Grantaire smirked at the guard, who was rapidly turning red in fury.
"Those are my men. Take my offer or we start shooting," he declared raising his gun. "And you will be the first to go," Grantaire winked and Combeferre felt like hitting him. You don't taunt men like that; it would never end well for you.
"I take your … offer," he snarled hesitantly and all the police slowly backed off. Grantaire grinned striding through the parting crowd to the base of the stage.
He was a surprisingly accurate Enjolras. No one knew Grantaire could act like this; it seemed the winecask had many hidden talents that he refused to show the amis. He had the right level of charisma and confidence to balance the attitude Enjolras always sported. Also how had he managed to get a hold of Enjolras' clothes to pull this off? This was not some rapidly formed plan that he came up with last night; this must have been planned down to the detail far in advance for him to have include this fine level of detail in the proceedings. Combeferre looked up to the stage just in time to see the guards release Enjolras. He let out a sigh of relief that this section of Grantaire's reckless plan had succeeded. The guards then pushed the almost limp Enjolras off the stage and his body thumped onto the stone cobbles lining the street below.
It looked as if every muscle in his body roared with pain and a cry of pain erupted from his dry lips. Combeferre leapt over as soon as Enjolras hit the floor to help his friend. He looked in so much pain. Combeferre could not bear to see him this way. He was about to cry Enjolras' name or use it to comfort him, but then it hit. Ricard could not be Enjolras anymore. He had to be Grantaire now. "It's all going to be fine Nic," Combeferre murmured reluctantly. He watched as a moment of confusion flickered over Enjolras' pale features before the pain hit him again. "We can go back to calling you by your real name now, Nicolas," Combeferre insisted and he saw Enjolras' features then change from pain to outright shock.
"N-no ... Taire no!" He cried struggling weakly against Combeferre's grasp. "I'm Enjolras, don't lie Nicolas!" He screamed but it was obvious his energy was steadily deserting him.
"Ignore him ... Loyal to the end. Took him in off the streets once his parents left him. Feels some life debt," Grantaire whispered to the chief guard and Enjolras screamed at him with all his remaining strength.
"Nicolas Grantaire, don't you dare do this to me!" He shouted before stumbling, leaning further onto Combeferre as the last reserves of his strength was expelled during the outburst. He looked up as the cuffs were tightened round Grantaire's pale, fragile wrists. Combeferre watched, helping Enjolras stand up straight as the drunkard was looking back at him, pleading with his eyes. He slowly shook his head. That gesture was the final straw for Enjolras and he responded in a way no one had seen him do before. He cried. He curled up in Combeferre's grip and cried. Combeferre took his trembling figure into his arms and picked him up, knowing that if Enjolras saw anything else it would be the breaking of him.
The other Amis all assembled around them at Combeferre's apartment. It was obvious Enjolras could not bear to go back to his own and neither could Combeferre bear to watch over him there. It reminded him too much of Grantaire, and they still hadn't got the blood stain off the door yet. Enjolras let out another choked sob. Combeferre sat comfortingly next to their weak leader and his determination returned in floods. Grantaire would not die. What he did was heroic and they could not stand by and watch as he was killed for that exact deed.