Chapter Seven
A Miracle
Blinded by his tears, Jean Valjean stood in awe before his daughter, who had miraculously in the dead of night, returned.
"Papa," she began, swallowing her words in fear that he hadn't forgiven her.
"Cosette." He embraced her quickly and held her close, cherishing the moment, "I'm so glad you're safe."
"Oh," Cosette choked on her tears and stood back to face her father, "forgive me, please. I never meant to make such a mess papa."
"No, you are not the one who needs to be forgiven. I only wish there was more a life with me could offer you. I know how hard it can be with just me… you have not committed any crime."
Before Cosette could thank her father and rejoice, she remembered her friends, close to death back at the barricade. She had left them so abruptly, so selfishly – how could she bear to be happy while they all suffered?
"I need to go back."
"What?"
"We need to go back papa, they'll be dead if we don't hurry."
"No! Cosette, you cannot leave."
"Please!" She begged, falling to her knees, "I've done you wrong, I know, but we MUST go back tonight. They will die without us."
She felt her breath shorten as she began to picture Marius, battered and broken, lying on the plane of blood that would soon become the barricade.
Jean stared at Cosette for a brief moment, perplexed and torn between her safety and her desires. Was he to lose her, or further upset her?
"Come," Jean Valjean said, "we must hurry if we're to help at all."
_
Enjolras was beginning to feel hazy, as if he were in a world much different than his own. Faces danced above him to the sound of screams, tears streaming down his face.
"Stay with me," Eponine begged, stroking his cheek as she stifled tears grievously.
Marius continued to watch over the scene, having kept Eponine from going into a fit earlier, and trying to keep his own agony from showing. They were already in a big enough mess without everybody panicking.
Blood had stained every part of Enjolras' body, leaving everybody clueless about where he had been shot and how much longer they had with him.
"Marius," Enjolras coughed, spitting up blood.
"Yes, yes," Marius grabbed Enjolras' head and looked him in the eyes, "what's wrong?"
"I – I'm sorry for everything I've done." He sighed and looked away, "None of you would have been here if it weren't for me."
"I beg to differ!" Gavroche spoke up, wiping away a tear, "We'll fight for what's right! Ain't that right boys?"
Les amis cheered sadly, all trying to look happier for Enjolras' sake – especially Grantaire, who looked as though he might pass out. Their voices were drained, their expressions hopeless. Enjolras, the man who had been determined to save his beloved Patria, who had put every aspect of his own life second to France - was close to death. What chance did they have?
"EPONINE!" A voice called out suddenly.
Everyone turned hesitantly as they saw Cosette and Jean Valjean making their way frantically to the scene.
"Cosette?" Marius whispered, shocked at her return.
He embraced her quickly, afraid that she would scream at the sight of Enjolras and attract attention. She moved away from him and began to explain.
"I was worried about you all –" she cut herself off as she witnessed Enjolras lying in his own blood, struggling to breathe.
Cosette ran to him, trying to keep herself from breaking down, "I shouldn't have left. This isn't fair."
"No," Eponine coughed, "if I hadn't been so stupid he wouldn't have had to save me."
"Where's his wound?" Jean asked from behind, taking off his vest and pushing his sleeves up.
"I – I don't know." Eponine stuttered, trying to calm herself down.
"Stay with us son," he said quietly as he snapped into each of Enjolras' ears.
"I can't," Enjolras breathed in deeply.
"Where does it hurt?"
Enjolras touched his shoulder and spit up more blood, terrifying Cosette.
"He can make it," Jean whispered, carrying him into the café and sprawling him out over the table.
"Cosette, go get a knife, some needle and some thread."
"I'll show you where it is," Marius said, guiding her quickly to the back of the shop.
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Eponine asked, watching sadly as Enjolras muttered useless words to himself.
"I hope so." Jean replied solemnly, trying to keep Enjolras awake as long as possible.
"Me too." Eponine sighed, as Cosette returned with a few materials.
"Wait!" Gavroche cried, "You'regonna cut him open!?"
"We have to get the bullet out," Marius reassured him, watching Jean tear Enjolras' shirt open and examine the wound.
"I see the bullet…" Jean reassured, taking some water from Gavroche and washing the blood away.
"I can't watch!" Cosette exclaimed uneasily, taking Eponine's hand and leaving the cafe.
The air outside was cold and bitter, strongly smelling of gun powder, acrid and overpowering.
"I'm so frightened…" Eponine whispered, trembling and sitting against the slightly slanted brick walls of Musain.
"You?" Cosette asked, shaking her head. "How could you be scared?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're so brave all the time… That must've been why Marius likes you so much."
"What?" Eponine laughed, "He was never mine, I was too blind to notice how much he cared for me before… Now he doesn't." She sighed once more, feeling completely discarded, "Don't leave again. He was miserable without you."
"Me?" Cosette laughed, "I was the most useless person here Eponine. You cannot pretend otherwise…"
"I'm not." Eponine shook her head, "I-"
"ENJOLRAS!" Gavroche screamed desperately, interrupting her.
"Come!" Eponine screamed, rushing to see what had become of him.
"What happened?" Cosette asked, sharing a worried glance with her father.
"He- He stopped breathing!" Grantaire replied, trembling violently and turning to throw up behind them.
"Enjolras…" Eponine sank to her knees and began to feel the world around her turn and turn until everything had become black.
"Eponine!?" Marius called, grabbing her hand and shaking her until the world began to move into place, pieces of the room falling back together like a puzzle.
Angrily, she grabbed Grantaire's bottle and poured the rest of the beer over Enjolras' head, watching him suddenly sit up and gasp for air, staggering slightly on his bad arm and falling back down on the table.
"ENJOLRAS!" She exclaimed, grabbing his face and kissing it until the rest of the room had interrupted and joined in the embrace.
Marius watched bitterly from behind, thankful beyond belief for the life of his dear friend, but trying hard to accept the fact that Eponine was no longer his and he could not keep pretending.
Perhaps this was the sign he had been waiting for. Perhaps it was time to realize who truley loved him and who he had to let go. He glanced quickly at Cosette, watching her smile at him tenderly and move away from her father - the man that had saved Enjolras...
"Monsieur, I don't know how to thank you." Marius exclaimed, handing some beer to Jean and watching a look of satisfaction crawl onto his face.
"I need no thanks," he replied, watching his daughter rejoice with Eponine, "just, be safe son, we don't need more lives lost."
"But monsieur –"
"It is –" he stopped himself suddenly as a familiar face made eye contact with him from the distance. "Javert…" Jean whispered, completely bewildered.
Running to the back of the cafe with Marius behind him, he quickly came to realize his old foe had been in the café the whole time.
"Monsieur, you know of this filth?" Marius asked of Cosette's father, giving Javert a dirty look.
"Indeed I do," he replied, a glimpse of hate shining in his tired eyes. "May I dispose of him?"
"Anything!" Marius nodded, and head back to the kitchen, leaving Jean and Javert alone.
"We meet again," Javert scoffed, "filth like you seem to always find a way back."
Jean moved closer to him, taking out the knife Cosette had retrieved earlier.
"Go on, kill me. You've waited long enough for this moment – enjoy it."
In one swift motion, Jean cut the noose and freed Javert, leaving him shocked and stunned.
"These silly games are no longer for us to play; there are bigger things than us in this world. It is time to let go of the past – do you understand?"
He watched as Javert took a few deep breaths and composed himself, "I doubt our paths will ever cross again."
As Javert began to run, Jean shot his gun at the door, barely missing Javert and sending him running far, far away.
Finally, it seemed as though a piece of him had been freed. He sank to his knees for a brief moment before walking into the café, to pray that this would be the last encounter he would ever have with Javert.