Chapter V

Gabrielle knocked on the door to Enjolras' apartment and Musichetta opened it to let her inside. Her eyebrows rose as she took in Gabrielle's valise. "How long are you planning on staying, Mademoiselle?"

Gabrielle shifted uncomfortably. "I...well...I didn't think." She felt her eyes filling with tears again and hastily wiped them away. She hated to appear weak.

"What happened, Mademoiselle Feuilly?" Joly appeared behind Musichetta and reached out for her things. He had bathed and changed in the time it took Gabrielle to get to the baron's and back, though he still looked like a defeated man.

"The baron, he...he was so insulting, and my temper..." she shrugged and looked at the floor. "I resigned from my position. I...God, what will I do? No one will take me as a governess now, he will turn everyone against me!" She heard the hysterical tone to her voice and snapped her mouth closed, embarrassed. She had to pull herself together.

Musichetta sighed and took her hand, leading her away from the apartment. "Come, Mademoiselle, you need a bath and a good meal. Joly, stay with Enjolras."

Gabrielle meekly followed Musichetta. Her mind was racing, replaying the horrific things she had seen at the barricade, her brother's body twisted and bloodied... She said nothing as her bath was prepared, and let Musichetta help her undress. She gratefully sank into the water and mechanically began scrubbing the blood and dirt from her skin. The automatic movement helped to clear her mind, and she did indeed feel a bit better after she had dressed in fresh clothing and had some hot soup, courtesy of Musichetta, whom she found lived two floors below Enjolras.

Gabrielle sat at Musichetta's table and sipped her soup quietly. Musichetta was studying her and it made Gabrielle uncomfortable. "How did Monsieur Joly get away, Musichetta?" she finally asked.

"When Enjolras realized they were all lost, he sent some men away from the barricade, hoping to spare a few lives. He sent Joly because he hoped some more men would survive, and supposed they would need a doctor."

"That was smart," Gabrielle replied. "Though I doubt he planned on surviving himself."

"He may not yet," Musichetta reminded her gently. "Let's not count our chickens before they hatch."

They were quiet for several more minutes before Gabrielle said hesitantly, "I...I am sorry. About Bossuet. He was a good man."

Musichetta looked away, gritting her teeth. "He was." She rose from her chair, avoiding Gabrielle's eyes, and took the empty bowl of soup away. Gabrielle followed Musichetta back upstairs without a sound.

The apartment was quiet, and Joly had fallen asleep on the small sofa. Even in sleep, he looked sad and broken, and Gabrielle's heart ached for him. What must it be like, to lose not just a brother, as Gabrielle had, but almost all of your closest friends and companions?

Musichetta kissed the top of his head fondly and went into the bedroom to check on Enjolras. Gabrielle followed her, feeling more than a little lost. Enjolras laid on the bed, still unmoving, but Gabrielle could see the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Joly had removed his shirt and wrapped his wounds in bandages. His skin was pallid and a fine sheen of sweat covered his face and chest. He didn't look good. Musichetta laid a hand on his head and sighed. "He has a fever. Joly said if he developed one, that was a sign of infection."

"What do we do?" Gabrielle asked fearfully.

"We can do nothing but wait."

Gabrielle, Joly, and Musichetta took turns staying with Enjolras over the next few days. Joly kept giving him what little medicine he had, and turned to trying some of the herbal remedies he had researched on his own in medical school. He didn't mention to the women that Enjolras was the first living patient he had ever had, considering his schooling was nowhere near complete. Taking care of Enjolras helped him keep his own memories at bay, and Joly was determined to keep Enjolras alive. He couldn't stand the thought of losing him now, after having Enjolras miraculously appear on the doorstep clinging to life.

Enjolras lingered at the edge of consciousness most of the time, whispering feverish orders as if he was still fighting at the barricade, and moaning whenever Joly checked his wounds and applied the poultice he had made. He looked tormented by pain and grief, haunted even in his dreams. Sometimes he whispered their names, the other members of the Les Amis, and Gabrielle would grip his hand, trying to let him know that he was not alone. She knew that it was not enough.

On the third night, Gabrielle dozed next to the bed off and on, and there was no change in Enjolras. She jerked awake and rose as the first rays of sun were beginning to peek through the window next to the bed, illuminating Enjolras' body in a soft light. Gabrielle reached over and rested her hand on his forehead, surprised to find his skin cool to the touch. A whisper of hope drifted through her and she gently unwound the bandage from Enjolras' shoulder. The stitches holding the bullet wound closed were holding nicely, and the skin around the injury was no longer red and swollen as it had been earlier. It seemed the infection was being successfully combatted, though Gabrielle knew Enjolras still had a long way to go.

She gently held his head up and tipped some water from a cup on the nightstand into his mouth. He swallowed reflexively and Gabrielle lowered his head back to the pillows. Even in his helpless state, Gabrielle still thought he was an impressive and imposing figure. Perhaps it was just because she knew him.

Seeking a drink of water herself, Gabrielle walked into the front room and poured a little water into the only other cup in the whole apartment. It was obvious Enjolras lived as a bachelor, Gabrielle thought. There were no feminine touches, no decorations or flowers...just books. Gabrielle thought he must have hundreds of books scattered around. With nothing else to do, she began to tidy them, fitting what she could onto his two sturdy bookshelves and stacking the rest next to the wall with their spines out. Other than that, though, his apartment was spotless – his clothes packed neatly away in the wardrobe in the bedroom and the desk organized meticulously. Gabrielle wasn't really surprised by the fact that he was a neat individual, but she did have the urge to brighten the modest apartment up. He needed a painting or a comfortable rug on the floor, something to bring a little bit of color in. It wasn't her place, though, even if she did find it a bit depressing. Still, cleaning helped keep her own grief in check. Moving meant not having to think.

With nothing left to do, she walked back into the bedroom, but stopped short in the doorway. Enjolras hadn't moved, but his eyes were fully open and looking right at her, clear and knowing as ever.

"You're awake." Gabrielle moved into the bedroom tentatively and his eyes followed her. He didn't speak. "How...how do you feel? Would you like some water? Or food? Or maybe you should sleep more? Or I should get Joly..."

"Gabrielle," he interrupted her quietly, his voice rough with disuse. "What am I doing here?"

Her brow furrowed and she sat back down in the chair, leaning towards him. She fought the urge to take his hand. "What do you mean? This is your apartment..."

"I thought..." he shook his head slightly and winced at the movement, but continued. "I thought I was dead..."

"No." Gabrielle did take his hand this time and squeezed it gently. "You are alive, Antoine." But your friends are dead... Gabrielle didn't know how to say this.

Enjolras swallowed, his eyes growing a bit frantic. "How did I get here?"

"I found you at the barricade."

His grip tightened on her hand and Gabrielle stroked his arm soothingly. She knew it probably wasn't good for him to get upset in his fragile state, but she didn't know how to avoid it.

His eyes flashed. "You were there? Feuilly told you stay away."

"In the morning, after..." she swallowed and closed her eyes against the images invading her vision.

"You shouldn't have been there," he said fiercely. "You had no place seeing...seeing that."

Gabrielle opened her eyes and snapped back, "Well it is good for you I was. You were barely alive and I got you back here to Monsieur Joly."

Enjolras' jaw tightened as he looked at her. "You should have let me die," he whispered, and then turned his head away, refusing to look at her or speak anymore.

Gabrielle sat holding his hand for several minutes, refusing to leave him alone in his grief. Her chest was tight with unshed tears and she knew Enjolras must feel the weight of the world on his back. She didn't know if he had really fallen asleep again or was just faking, but his eyes had closed and he was still. Finally, Gabrielle rose and reluctantly let go of his hand, retreating from the bedroom. She went downstairs to Musichetta's and knocked, letting Joly know what had just happened.

Joly flew up the stairs to examine his friend and Gabrielle wandered downstairs and out the door. She aimlessly walked the streets until she found herself in front of her brother's shop, feeling lost and indescribably sad. She hadn't even thought about the shop since the barricade, she had been too busy taking care of Enjolras, but all of Feuilly's materials and un-sold fans were shut away inside. She had no key, and no way to remove his things; when his rent wasn't paid, the owner of the building would either throw everything away or sell it himself for a profit. Gabrielle's fists tightened as she stared at the beautiful fans in the window.

Her favorite showed an intricate scene of the Greek God Orpheus reclining next to a pool with his lyre, charming the water nymphs with his music. The details in the painting were remarkable, painstakingly and lovingly painted on the delicate silk, the colors blending together in soft blues, greens, and pinks. Gabrielle wished more than anything she could reach through the glass and take it, to have one last piece of her brother to carry with her forever. But it was not to be, and she sadly turned away and continued up the street.

Despite the melancholy that settled over Enjolras' mind, his body began to recover quickly. He seemed to fight his own recovery, however, refusing to rise even when he probably could. Not even Joly's urging could get him to move. He rarely spoke, let Gabrielle or Musichetta force food down his throat, and submitted to Joly applying more poultice to his wounds without complaint. He was listless and resigned, and no matter what any of them said, he didn't stir. Gabrielle began to fear leaving him alone, wondering if he would do something drastic and try to take his own life. She had never seen a human being so broken, and it caused her heart to contract painfully every time she looked at him, remembering the fire that had filled his voice as he stood in the Café Musain and gave speeches to rally his friends. He had believed they were about to change the world, that their barricade would become a revolution that swept through Paris. His Patria had abandoned him in his hour of need, and Gabrielle imagined he felt rather betrayed and angry underneath the gloom. The people had not seen the future as he had, and he couldn't understand their refusal to help themselves. He couldn't understand their ambivalence.

Of course, Enjolras said none of this, and Gabrielle only imagined these were the things running through his mind. She never said anything, though, and let him lay silently in the bed. When it was her turn to watch him, they were quiet companions, very different from Joly's incessant chatter and Musichetta's humming and singing. Sometimes, when she felt brave enough or when she was feeling particularly sad herself, she would reach for his hand. He never pulled away, but seemed to sense her feelings, and sometimes even ran his thumb soothingly over her wrist, though his eyes never sought hers.

One day, about two weeks after the battle on the barricade, Gabrielle was surprised when Enjolras' voice finally broke through the silence.

"Why are you still here, Gabrielle?"

She started and looked at him. His face was still turned away, but he had spoken and that was a good sign.

"To care for you, Antoine, as my brother would have wanted."

He finally turned to face her and frowned. "What about your job? The boy's lessons?"

Gabrielle sighed and shrugged. "I am no longer employed by the baron. He was unkind about my brother and the fighting, calling you all foolish and saying you deserved what you got. I let my temper get the better of me and quit..."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows and said quietly, "Perhaps he was correct in his estimation of our foolishness. But your brother did not deserve to die."

"No. No, you were not foolish. You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I no longer know what to believe. Everything is..."

"Gone?" Gabrielle offered. "I feel that way, too, Antoine, but...but I know Alexandre would want me to be happy. Or to at least try and be happy. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, I don't know where I will be in a month and I can hardly even imagine a year..." Gabrielle smiled sadly. "But I know I have to keep going. When my parents died, Alexandre never let that stop him. I cannot let his death stop me."

Enjolras suddenly gripped her hand. "I killed him, Gabrielle. I killed your brother, or as good as. Please, say you hate me. Stop showing me kindness as you have been. I do not deserve it."

Gabrielle sucked in a breath at the hatred she heard in his tone and said gently, "I cannot hate you, Monsieur. I remember you, what you were, how glorious and fierce your spirit...you will be that way again one day, Antoine. I will not hate you."

Enjolras gritted his teeth and turned his head away again, his grip loosening on her hand. He said no more, and Gabrielle went back to her silent vigil.

I didn't expect to update again only a day later, but the reviews really picked up for the last chapter, so I decided to! I'm actually several chapters ahead in this story (and the ENTIRE second half is almost completely written, including the end), so I'm actually kind of anxious to post.

Thank you SO MUCH to everyone that is reviewing and adding the story to your favorites and update lists! I'm flattered that you're reading and it makes my day to see the kind words you're sending my way! I hope you continue to like the story!

Also...God help me, but I think I might try some Enjolras/Eponine next? Better finish this first. ;)