Chapter VI

Gabrielle woke up the next morning from a fitful sleep on Musichetta's sofa. Since Enjolras couldn't be left alone, they had all been taking turns sleeping downstairs at her apartment. Gabrielle had a feeling, however, that with Enjolras' turn for the better, she was about to lose her temporary sleeping space. She had no idea where she would go next or how she would afford to pay for it. Yes, she had her brother's meager savings, but they wouldn't last for long. She needed to find a job, and quickly, or face a new and terrifying existence on the streets of Paris.

Gabrielle went upstairs to Enjolras' door and knocked softly. She was surprised to hear Enjolras himself answer, "Come in."

Gabrielle slowly pushed open the door and stopped, taking in the scene before her. Enjolras was actually dressed and sitting on the sofa, his curls dripping wet. He had a determined set to his jaw, and despite the dark circles under his eyes, seemed physically well.

"Look who has decided to grace us with his presence once again!" Joly grinned and gently clapped Enjolras on the back as he stood. His cheer seemed somewhat forced, but Gabrielle knew Joly was just doing the best he could, battling his own demons and memories. "Our friend is feeling much better today, Gabrielle, so I am going to go and see about finding us all some breakfast."

Joly excused himself and Gabrielle still stood near the doorway, gazing at Enjolras. He finally said quietly, "Well? Are you going to sit down?"

Gabrielle walked over to the sofa and sat at the opposite end. "You look well. I'm happy to see you out of bed."

"I can't hide forever, as much as I'd like to." His eyes still seemed dull and lifeless, but Gabrielle supposed it would take a while for that to go away. The guilt he felt weighed heavily, she knew, and only time could possibly ease his pain.

"Soon you will be well enough to go back to your classes. That will give you something to focus on," she said optimistically.

He didn't answer and they sat in awkward silence for a minute before Enjolras asked, "What are you going to do, Gabrielle?"

It was the moment she had been dreading, but in typical Enjolras fashion, he had gotten straight to the point. "I don't know. I suppose since you're feeling better that I should begin to look for a job directly after breakfast. I don't even know where to start, truthfully...I was sent to the de Sauveterre's from school. Maybe I should write to Madame Gerard's and ask for another recommendation?" she thought aloud.

"And what will you do in the meantime?"

"Wouldn't I like to know?" she sighed. "I suppose I'll manage. I need to find somewhere to stay, first of all, and..."

"You'll stay here," he said firmly, and finally met her eyes.

"Here? But..." she bit her lip. It had been fine while he was bedridden and needed round the clock care. Watching out for and dozing next to an unconscious invalid was one thing, but living with a man she was not married to? It would be far beyond the boundaries of polite society. "I don't know if that is such a good idea..."

"Come now, what do you care about social conventions?" His tone was reproachful.

"When it may cost me a job? I care deeply," she retorted.

"It is highly unlikely that anyone would find out. And besides..." Enjolras said seriously, "I made your brother a promise."

"When?"

"On the barricade." Enjolras said, and it took a minute for him to continue, his face turning grave. "He seemed to know he was going to die. He had made his mind up, even before the fighting began in earnest. He asked me, that if I should survive, I would look after you. I told him I would." Enjolras' eyes looked far away and sad.

Gabrielle was touched, but reminded him gently, "Antoine, I am sure at that moment that you were convinced you were going to die yourself. I do not hold you accountable for a promise you made at such a time."

"I made it, nevertheless."

"I can take care of myself," she protested.

"I never said that you couldn't. I only said I made a promise, and I never break promises, especially not to dead friends," Enjolras said roughly.

Gabrielle sighed and looked at the floor. He was a stubborn man, she knew, and did not take no for an answer easily. What would her brother encourage her to do? Staying with Enjolras would solve at least one problem for the time being...

"Alright. I will stay here. You are very kind to offer. Thank you, Antoine."

"No, thank you for making it easy for me to honor my friend's wishes. And..." he glanced at her, suddenly uncomfortable. "Thank you for saving me. I appreciate the courage that it must have taken, Gabrielle, and I will not soon forget your kindness." Gabrielle detected a false note in his voice, and she knew he still truly wished she would have let him die with his friends, but at least he was emerging, however slowly, from his self-imposed silence. Surely he would only continue to recover from here.

"You're welcome. I would have done it for any of you there."

At that moment, Joly and Musichetta arrived with fresh breakfast from a patisserie down the street. They were a strange assortment, Gabrielle mused as they all sat around the room and ate, and everything felt more than a little bit wrong. There were so many dear people missing, who had disappeared from the world so suddenly, but nevertheless, they tried their best to be cheerful and it gave Gabrielle courage to know she did not face the day alone.

By that evening, however, Gabrielle's courage was waning. She had decided that instead of writing to Madame Gerard's, she would simply go there in person. The Madame was very frank, to put it mildly. The Baron de Sauveterre had already contacted her and complained about Gabrielle's services, and even though Gabrielle had expected it, she was still disappointed. She had taught and loved Armand and Louisa faithfully and without trouble for a year, and in one night, everything had turned to dust. Madame Gerard told her she would never have a recommendation from them again, and Gabrielle knew that without it, her chances of finding another job as a governess were slim.

She walked back to Enjolras' apartment slowly, turning her situation over in her mind. She felt hollow, and had never felt so lonely and heartsick. She desperately wished she could talk to her brother, hear his voice and feel his unwavering confidence and pride for her. He had been so young himself when their parents died, but he had never strayed from his righteous path. He had been brother, mother, and father to her, truth be told, and Gabrielle didn't know what to do without his guidance.

Gabrielle hoped Enjolras would be asleep when she arrived, but her wish was not to be. He was still on the sofa when she came in, reading by candlelight, and quite alone. It seemed Joly thought him well enough to be by himself for a few hours.

"Hello," she greeted uncertainly. She felt like she was intruding on his private space and felt awkward, lingering near the door.

"You can sit, Gabrielle," he reminded her. "This is now your home, too, however temporary."

She nodded, but instead of sitting, began putting away the books that had already accumulated on the floor in the short time Enjolras had been up and awake. He watched her for a minute and then said with a dry amusement, "What are you doing?"

"Putting your books away, of course. I organized them yesterday. Philosophy on this shelf, novels here, law books, history on these two shelves, medicine here, social theory is on that one...and then whatever else didn't really fit is on the floor."

"Making yourself at home already, I see," he mumbled.

Gabrielle blushed crimson and stammered, "I...oh, God, I'm so sorry. That was stupid of me, I never should have touched your things, I just needed something to do and I was curious about what you had and everything else was so neat and tidy and..." She forced her lips together, realizing she was babbling like a fool.

Though he looked more than a bit annoyed, Enjolras replied cordially, "It's alright. I imagine once I get used to it, it will be rather helpful to have them organized."

"I can always toss them about the room again, if you'd like?" Gabrielle forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood and release her awkwardness.

Enjolras smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, and Gabrielle finally sat on the sofa. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Did you have any luck today?"

"No." Gabrielle smoothed her skirt and frowned. "None at all. I am afraid the Baron de Sauveterre has had me blacklisted as a governess. It would take a miracle to find a position again. But, no bother, I suppose I will just have to find something else to do!" She forced herself to sound cheery, but had a feeling she ended up sounding rather pathetic instead.

Enjolras scowled and ran a hand through his hair. "I will try to think of something for you."

"Please, don't waste your time, Monsieur. We both know jobs are scarce enough as it is...I will be lucky to find factory work."

"And do you know what kind of life that entails, Gabrielle?" Enjolras sounded a bit condescending and Gabrielle bristled.

"It is honest work, at least. What else am I to do? I will keep looking for something else, of course, but I just don't see what could possibly change." Her throat felt tight, a sure sign of impending tears.

"And when will you write your novels? When will you have time to devote to your creativity and passion?"

Gabrielle quickly looked away, for he had voiced her worst fear – that her life would become one only of toil and drudgery, the only possible solution being marrying above her station. That was simply an impossibilty. She had no dowry and no prospects, and besides, she couldn't imagine herself willfully submitting to a man just to secure financial security, having her wings clipped, so to speak. There were not many men in Paris, or the world for that matter, that would ever see her as an equal and she would settle for nothing less.

"I suppose those things will just turn into dreams," she said quietly. "We have both had a rather rude awakening these past few weeks, have we not?"

He said nothing, but turned and glared at her, and Gabrielle had to force herself to look back at him. He apparently had not lost all of his fight, though she didn't quite know why his ire was suddenly directed at her.

"I suppose I can add your name to the long list of people I have failed." His words were bitter.

"You haven't failed me, Enjolras. You are..." Gabrielle paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "You are lost right now, and everything seems dark. I know you feel guilt, and the failure of the revolution feels like it rests solely on you. Yet you forget that there were other barricades throughout the city, other young men who felt the same as you, who also wanted change. You failed no one, believe me, but there were many that failed you."

"My friends died, Gabrielle. And for what? What did they sacrifice their lives for? Nothing has changed. And it seems nothing will."

"I wish you wouldn't think that way," Gabrielle said softly, and suddenly she couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She was mortified at such an embarrassing display of emotion, but continued anyway. "You were so...so passionate, so inspiring. You made me feel so hopeful, like the world could be a better place if we only tried hard enough to make it so. There must be a way to salvage all of this?" She wiped at her eyes, wishing she wasn't so weak.

They said nothing else, and Enjolras didn't look at her as she cried. He stared at the wall instead, lost in remembrances of another time and place.

Finally, he said quietly, "Forgive me, Gabrielle, but I fear I must ask you to help me to bed. I cannot yet walk on my own, and I'm tired."

"Of course." She rose, wiping away the last of her tears, and awkwardly helped Enjolras stand. He placed his arm around her shoulders and rested a good amount of his weight on her, though she could tell he was trying to do it on his own. They moved slowly to the bedroom, and by the time they had reached the bed, Enjolras was sweating from the effort. He sat heavily on the edge of the mattress and wiped his forehead.

"Your strength will return soon," she said comfortingly. "The best thing you can do for now is rest."

"I fear my mind will not let me," he admitted. "Even my dreams are plagued by accusing demons. I hope your sleep is more peaceful."

"Perhaps it will be. Goodnight, Antoine." Gabrielle left the bedroom and settled herself on the sofa, and despite her worries, fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

You guys. Seriously, YOU GUYS. I have gotten so many nice reviews. I can't even. Thank you so much for reading and being so kind to me and my story! And PLEASE, keep reviewing! They really were so sweet and put such a big smile on my face! And also, PLEASE tell me what you'd like to see happen - sometimes, inspiration comes from really little things and I will end up writing a whole chapter or big scene based on something very small that strikes me.

Also, I updated my profile. (Who cares, really? It's lame.) But I wrote a little bit about why I became re-attached to Les Mis recently and how it ties into my every day life. Read if you are curious and I won't be offended if you don't. :)

Thanks for reading!