Chapter XXIII

Gabrielle and Durand sat at a little outdoor café, meeting once more before Gabrielle went to confront Captain Martin.

"I found out why he was discharged," Durand said after they had settled down, Gabrielle sipping bland tea and Durand eating a small lunch. "I'm not sure whether or not you should mention it, because it could be a very sore subject for him. But, this also proves what Enjolras has been saying all along, that he thinks Martin feels remorse for a lot of things. Martin was trying to get Philip Roux released from prison, speaking out against what happened that day to Roux's wife. The National Guard obviously didn't like it very much and let him go."

"That's horrible," Gabrielle said, feeling an unexpected surge of sympathy for Martin. "And it shows that Martin is capable of doing the right thing. You don't think I should say anything about it to him?"

Durand sighed and studied Gabrielle carefully, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I don't know. I hate to throw you into a situation without guidance, Gabrielle, but I think you will have to judge this on your own. It will depend on what kind of feeling you get from Martin, if you think he is responding favorably to you or not. Are you comfortable with that?"

"Yes," Gabrielle said. "I'm not nervous, Monsieur Durand. I never have been. He's just a man, one who has been through quite a lot. I can handle that, especially as he doesn't seem like a particularly bad man. Just a soldier who was trying to do his job."

"I don't have to tell you how important this is."

"No, Monsieur, you certainly don't."

Gabrielle sipped her tea and turned her face to the street, watching the people on the sidewalk scurry by. She wondered about their lives: where they were going, whether they lived in Paris or were just visiting, whether they had families or secret lovers, whether they were happy. Whether they had children, she mused, her hand drifting to rest on her still flat stomach. Everyone had a story. She would need to find the heart of Martin's today, or else her child would grow up fatherless.

Her mind had wandered to dark places since discovering her pregnancy; she had gone so far as to make the decision to not tell Enjolras about the baby at all if the verdict didn't fall in his favor. She didn't want him to go to his grave with the knowledge that he was leaving behind a pregnant and terrified wife. It would make things a million times worse for him.

And, of course, things couldn't possibly get any worse than that for her. She had timidly asked Musichetta the night before, once Marie had gone to bed, if there was any way to safely end her pregnancy, but Musichetta had balked. She swore up and down that there was no safe way to do such a thing, and though she understood why Gabrielle asked, she wouldn't stay quiet about it if Gabrielle tried to take that path.

Musichetta made her swear up and down that she wouldn't do anything so drastic, and Gabrielle promised, surprised at how pale Musichetta's face had grown and how tightly she gripped her hand. Gabrielle immediately felt guilty for asking, and didn't really know if she could ever go through with something like that, anyway. She felt like she wasn't really in her right mind. The only coherent, and horrifying thought she kept having was, I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby...

It seemed like a nightmare.

"Are you ready?" Durand asked as he finished his lunch and stood, shaking Gabrielle out of her thoughts.

Gabrielle nodded and took his arm before setting off down the street. As far as they knew, Martin was at home, and though it wasn't really proper for Gabrielle to be alone with him in his apartment, she was long past caring about such trivial things. Durand would wait outside on the street while they talked. That is, if Martin let her in at all.

When they reached the building, Gabrielle gave Durand a reassuring smile and headed up the stairs, forcing herself to breathe deeply and stay calm. He was just a man. And she needed her wits about her to read him well and do what needed to be done. She knocked softly on Martin's door and stood back to wait.

After a moment, she heard shuffling footsteps on the other side and the door opened, revealing a very young man with dark hair and a carefully groomed mustache. He was dressed nicely, and appeared a gentleman.

"Bonjour," Gabrielle said politely. "Are you Captain Martin?"

"I am," Martin said curiously. "I don't believe we have met, Mademoiselle?"

"No, we haven't." Gabrielle smiled and held out her hand. "But I do feel a bit like I know you, Monsieur. My name is Gabrielle Enjolras. I think you're distantly acquainted with my husband, Antoine?"

Martin reluctantly took her hand, and it was apparent he recognized Enjolras' name. His eyes became wary and immediately shifted to the wall just above Gabrielle's shoulder, as if he was afraid or ashamed to look at her directly. "Oh...yes. I..." he stumbled, and Gabrielle could tell he didn't know what to say.

"Monsieur, may I please speak with you?" Gabrielle pleaded softly. "It is so important to me that we talk. I know that you are a good and decent man, even my husband has been saying so. Please, may I come in so we can talk frankly?" She spoke quietly, being careful to keep her tone even and nonthreatening.

Martin hesitated, but then nodded stiffly, opening the door wider and allowing Gabrielle to enter. He seemed like the kind of man to not refuse a lady, she thought, and quickly took in his apartment – it was small and sparsely furnished, but clean and orderly, much like she imagined a soldier's quarter's would be. Everything seemed to have and be in it's proper place.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak to me," Gabrielle said. She accepted a seat at the small table Martin offered and watched him sit across from her. He still wouldn't meet her eyes, and Gabrielle knew most of this conversation would probably fall on her to carry.

"Like I said before, Monsieur Enjolras is my husband," Gabrielle said quietly. "And I'm sure you can imagine how much I miss him. It is torture being separated for so long. May I be frank, Captain Martin, and ask why you decided to turn him in?"

Martin glanced at her, his jaw tightening. He drummed his fingers on the table top and said hesitantly, "I thought...I thought turning him in might cause them to re-instate my place with the National Guard."

"Did it?" Gabrielle wondered, and Martin shook his head. "I'm sorry for that then. Monsieur Durand, the other man you spoke to...he told me why you were discharged. It seems horribly unfair. You were trying to do the right and honorable thing..."

Martin suddenly met her eyes and said directly, "Madame, I shot your husband in June. I fully intended to kill him. And now he is in prison because of me. There is absolutely no way you have any sympathy at all for me. Tell me what you want."

Gabrielle was startled, but maintained her composure. "Actually," she said confidently, "I do have quite a bit of sympathy for you, Monsieur, whether you believe so or not. You are a soldier – you were doing your job at the barricade. And just so you know, you may have shot my husband, but you most definitely killed my brother."

Martin gaped, his mouth hanging open. He hadn't been expecting that, Gabrielle could see.

"I...I'm sorry, Madame, for your loss," he finally muttered, his cheeks turning an uncomfortable shade of red.

"Thank you," Gabrielle said calmly. "But my brother died fighting for what he believed in. I don't think he regretted it. And like I said, you were only doing your job. Do you regret what you had to do?"

Martin looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. Gabrielle felt confident – she was keeping him on his toes, keeping him talking as much as she could. "I did not enjoy killing those men, if that is what you are asking," Martin admitted. "It was a complete waste of life. At the end, they knew they were going to die. I gave them the chance to give themselves up, get away...I've never understood why they didn't take it. I didn't want to kill them."

"No," Gabrielle whispered. "My husband knew that. He told me he saw the remorse in your eyes. He thinks you are a good man at heart."

Martin looked at Gabrielle and she saw that his eyes had turned anguished. "You can't possibly speak the truth, Madame. I have condemned your husband to death. I may as well have killed him back in June. There is no way he wishes anything but a horrible and painful death for me."

Gabrielle shook her head, sitting forward and locking eyes with Martin. "You are wrong. You don't know my husband. He doesn't wish ill on you at all. He feels empathy – he didn't enjoy killing, either, you see. Even if his fortune had been reversed and he and his friends would have won that day, he still would have felt no pleasure in killing you or your fellow soldiers. That is why he took a risk and came to see you himself about his client, Philip Roux. He believed he would get through to you, that you could maybe meet in the middle..."

"And instead I finished what I started." Martin sounded bitter.

"This isn't over yet," Gabrielle persisted. "You could still be the reason that my husband is released from prison, Captain Martin. You could still help him."

"Why?" Martin asked. "Just because I don't enjoy killing, Madame Enjolras, doesn't mean I am willing to help him. He did lead that rebellion, and he is the reason so many men died that night. Does he not deserve his just punishment?"

No! Gabrielle screamed inside her head, but maintained an outward composure, though her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the chair. Instead of sounding angry like she felt, she forced her voice to sound sad and pitiful.

"I cannot live without my husband, Captain Martin. Please."

Martin shook his head and looked away from her, staring stubbornly at the floor.

"Please, Monsieur," Gabrielle said again, softer. "You don't understand...I love him. I have never loved anyone or anything like I love him. I have no family, no one else...please, please, say that you will help."

"And what would I do?" Martin asked. "I am one man, powerless. And I've already told them who he is."

"You can say you were wrong! You can say they have the wrong man, that you made a mistake in identifying him. Monsieur Durand has other witnesses who are going to say the same thing, that my husband has never had anything to do with the rebellion. You won't be the only one."

Martin scoffed. "And if I were to say such a thing? I would look like an even bigger fool than I already am."

Gabrielle was beginning to feel desperate, and felt like she was losing control. She hadn't let herself think past the actual conversation, about what would happen if Martin didn't agree to testify in Enjolras' favor.

"I am sorry, Madame, I really am," Martin said apologetically. "I am sorry for the pain that my actions caused. You seem like a lovely young woman and I am sure that your husband is not a bad man. But he is guilty. I cannot further damage what has become of my life by lying to set a guilty man free."

Gabrielle chewed her lip for a moment, then reached out and grasped Martin's hands, startling him. "Do you want me to beg, Monsieur? I will get down on my knees. I will do anything. Please. I cannot go on without my husband." Gabrielle's eyes filled with tears and Martin looked distinctly uncomfortable, squirming a bit in his seat.

"Madame..." he began remorsefully, but Gabrielle interrupted.

"I am expecting a child," Gabrielle said quietly as a few tears began to slip down her cheeks. "Monsieur, I am expecting a child! I can't raise a child alone. I can't do it without my husband...please, please, Monsieur. Do not make my baby grow up without a father! I lived that life, I lost both of my parents when I was young. I don't want that for my child!"

She was growing hysterical, and realized with astounding clarity that everything she said was true. Whether she was happy about this baby or not, it was coming, it was her new reality, and she was going to do her damnedest to be a good mother. But, no matter what, she couldn't make up for the absence of her baby's father.

Martin froze for a moment, finally meeting her eyes again, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his handkerchief. "Please don't cry, Madame..." He awkwardly patted her hand and she accepted the handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes.

"Please," she murmured again. "Please help us. I don't know what I'll do if..." her voice trailed off despondently and she stared at the table. She was putting on quite a show, she knew – if only it were a true performance, on a stage, and not her real life.

Martin didn't say anything, and Gabrielle suddenly burst out, "We will pay you, Monsieur. Enough money for you to leave Paris and go anywhere you want. Enough to start over completely and begin a new life. You can forget everything bad that has happened since June. Please, just name your price."

Martin was looking more intrigued, she noticed, and he cleared his throat. "Madame, I will help you. I will say whatever needs to be said. And I would be a fool to turn down your money, as I really don't have any of my own. And starting over does sound tempting."

Gabrielle started, her heart pounding. Had he really just said he would help? So abruptly? She had started to think that she wouldn't be able to convince him.

"Oh, Monsieur! Thank you! I don't know how to tell you what this means to me, I really don't..."

Martin managed a tight smile and nodded. "I think I can tell, Madame. Now, what is it exactly you wish me to do? And when?"

Gabrielle composed herself enough to tell Martin that Durand was waiting downstairs, and Martin agreed to speak with him then. Gabrielle rose and couldn't stop herself from gratefully embracing Martin. She was an emotional wreck. What in the world was wrong with her? She was usually remarkably cool and composed.

Martin walked downstairs with her to meet Durand, and Gabrielle left the two men together. She walked home slowly, hope spreading like fire through her veins.

On her way home, she found herself in front of Monsieur Gillenormand's house. Maybe she had come there on unconsciously, she didn't know, but either way, Gabrielle cautiously knocked on the door. It was the first time she would see Cosette since she discovered she was pregnant, and she felt strangely nervous. It was like seeing her very near future.

A servant opened the door and ushered Gabrielle in. Cosette was resting on the sofa, her feet propped up in front of her. Gabrielle forced a smile and leaned down to hug her, feeling a stab of jealousy at Cosette's happy smile.

"Gabrielle! I'm so happy to see you. How are you, darling? Are you holding up alright? Musichetta and Enjolras' mother are still there to take care of you, aren't they?" Cosette tugged on Gabrielle's hand and drew her down to the sofa next to her.

"Yes, they are. I'm very glad to not be alone," Gabrielle admitted. Her eyes drifted to Cosette's ever expanding stomach and she asked quietly, "How are you? The baby is due in a few weeks, isn't it?"

Cosette nodded, her hands drifting to her stomach. "Yes. The doctor thinks it could really be any time. I'm not to be on my feet too much until the baby decides to make its appearance."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be quite busy once it does. Enjoy your rest now." Gabrielle glanced away and took a deep breath. She felt a rising sense of panic, thinking about what was going to soon happen to her body. "Are you uncomfortable?" she wondered.

"Oh, a bit," Cosette admitted. "But it's really not that bad. I have plenty of people around to take care of me. And Marius is still wonderful." Cosette winced at the mention of her husband, and Gabrielle smiled reassuringly.

"It's alright, Cosette. Just because I don't have Enjolras right now doesn't mean you have to pretend you're unhappy. This should be a happy time for you." Gabrielle blinked, tears stinging her eyes, and Cosette reached out to hold her hand.

"Oh, Gabrielle, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do? I know I can't do much, but please...anything. I want to help you."

Gabrielle shook her head sadly. "There's really nothing anyone can do, Cosette. But I did come with some news..." She told Cosette about her meeting with Martin and how hopeful she was that his testimony would be exactly what they needed.

Cosette beamed and squeezed her hand. "Enjolras will be home in no time, I know it. I'm sure he's as anxious as you are. And then, soon, all of this will fade and be nothing more than a distant memory. You'll be even happier than you were before."

Gabrielle forced a smile and nodded, her hand unconsciously drifting to her own stomach. "Yes...I hope so."

Gabrielle distracted Cosette with more questions about the baby, and Cosette finally said somewhat timidly, "Gabrielle, I've been meaning to ask you...and, perhaps you won't want to because of everything, and I know you're busy, but, I've been thinking..."

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows curiously. It wasn't like Cosette to be nervous. "What is it, Cosette? You can ask me anything."

Cosette's eyes shined and she asked eagerly, "Will you be there with me when the baby is born? You see, I just don't really have anyone else to ask, and you've been such a good friend. I would feel so reassured to have you there with me. But you can say no! I won't be offended."

Gabrielle gaped. That was the last thing she had expected.

Oh God, how can I make it through that? she thought, horrified. But, this was Cosette. And it was unbelievably sweet of her to ask, really. Under normal circumstances, Gabrielle would have been incredibly touched; indeed, she still was. It was just her own selfish reasons and fear that made her hesitate. Finally, she said softly, "Of course, Cosette. I would be happy to be there with you. I'm touched you feel that way."

"Of course I do!" Cosette smiled. "Marius will be a nervous wreck waiting, and it will be a comfort to him to know you're with me, too. And I'm sure Enjolras will be home by then, as well! He can keep poor Marius company." Cosette giggled, thinking of how anxious her husband already was anticipating the birth of their child. Gabrielle had no doubt he would be an absolute wreck when it actually happened. But the thought of Enjolras there...it actually made her feel physically sick. Would he know about his own child by then? she wondered.

Or, was she jumping too far ahead in the first place? She had to get him out of prison first.

Enjolras stared up at the low ceiling of his cell. How he longed for a bath and a shave; he was absolutely filthy, and he had never let more than a few days go by without shaving before. His face was itchy and hot under several week's worth of beard, and he hated it. His hair felt greasy and grimy to the touch, too, and he was constantly having to push it back out of his face, where it fell in tangled curls. He needed to get out of this hell hole.

His cell door suddenly began creaking open and Enjolras jumped, sitting up straight on the bed. Durand entered, his face a mask of curious calm at first, but he grinned and practically did a little jig when he caught sight of Enjolras.

"Durand?" Enjolras asked. "What are you doing back here today?"

Durand rang his hand jovially and said, "Enjolras. Your wife is a marvel. Second only to mine, I believe. She's done it, man."

Enjolras' mouth quirked up in a smile. "What has she done?"

"She talked to Martin today. And I don't know what she said, but he is more than willing to help us. Well, I do know she offered him money, too, but..." Durand shrugged. "That's neither here nor there."

"What did he say?" Enjolras asked eagerly.

"He's going to help, of course. Gabrielle was apparently very persuasive, he was quite taken with her. Whatever she said got to him."

"That's my girl." Enjolras smiled, wishing he could kiss her right then and there. The things he would do to her once he was home...He blinked. Thinking like that right now was not a good idea. He focused on Durand again and asked, "So what can I expect?"

Durand went into the details and Enjolras listened intently, nodding every once in a while to show he was still focused and paying attention. By the time their conversation was done, Enjolras felt confident that he at least had a little bit of a chance now. Where things had seemed incredibly bleak before, now the sun shined a bit.

"And..." Durand said hesitantly, "I wasn't going to tell you this, but. Well." He reached into his bag and pulled out a newspaper, handing it to Enjolras. Sprawled across the top were the words The Rupublican; Marius and Joly must have settled on a proper name for the paper without him. He didn't really mind, since they were shouldering most of the responsibility so far. He balked when he noticed the headline, however, and stared at Durand in shock.

"Innocent man arrested for June Rebellion?!" he hissed. "What are they doing, broadcasting this? This could get them in trouble!"

Durand cleared his throat and looked around the cell. "Yes, well. I'm afraid I may have put the idea into their heads to create some attention before the trial. If the public thinks you innocent before it even begins, you may have more of a chance. And since Marius and Joly are quite clear in that article that they were involved in the rebellion, their claiming that this man they have arrested as their leader was not holds quite a bit of credibility."

Enjolras glared at the paper, balling it up in his fist. "This is utter foolishness. They shouldn't have done this. Pseudonyms or not, they could still be found out! I can't believe you put this idea into their heads!"

"It's done now, nevertheless. And it may work in your favor."

"I can't have anyone else getting hurt because of me!" Enjolras exclaimed, and threw the paper at Durand's feet. "Tell them no more. They are not to do anything else, I forbid it." Enjolras took a deep breath, glaring at Durand, and the older man held up a placating hand.

"Yes, yes...I will tell them. They only wanted to help, Enjolras, you can't blame them for that. Their hearts are in the right place."

"And their heads in the clouds, obviously, as is yours."

Durand picked up the crumpled newspaper and smoothed it out, laying it on Enjolras' small table. "You may want to keep that," he said calmly. "Now, is there anything else you need from me before I go? Any messages for Gabrielle?"

Enjolras was silent, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Tell her thank you. I love her." His eyes met Durand's finally, and an icy fire burned in their depths. "Tell her not to give up on me yet."

Durand smiled and clapped him on the back. "That is an impossibility, my friend. I will see you tomorrow."

Durand retreated from the cell and Enjolras was left alone once more. He took a deep breath, wishing he could yell and berate both Marius and Joly for what they'd done. They were being careful, but nothing was guaranteed, and if his remaining friends were to be discovered, Enjolras knew he would wish he was dead once and for all. He couldn't deal with more guilt of that nature. It was bad enough being stuck here by himself, missing his friends, missing his wife, missing his whole life.

But Gabrielle had come through for him, again. Would she ever cease to amaze him? He didn't think so. Martin probably took one look at her and melted into a puddle at her feet, he thought, suddenly amused. He wondered what she had said to him – if she had played the doting wife, or been angry and forceful. Maybe a combination of both. Whatever she had done, it worked, and that was all that mattered.

Enjolras laid back down on his uncomfortable cot and closed his eyes, imagining it was his own bed he was resting on, with Gabrielle next to him.

And another update. Seriously, I can't stop writing. I actually just booked a beachfront condo for four days next week (spring break, yay!) and I'm hoping to finish up the story there. CRAZY, Y'ALL, HOW CLOSE THE END IS.

And THANK YOU so much for the reviews! You are ALL amazing and awesome and incredible and COOL AS F***. I appreciate the time and effort it actually takes to write a review and I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)

~Aimee

BTW, baby names? I don't know what to name this Enjolras kid. I can never have children, they will be nameless. Thing 1 and Thing 2 and so forth...and now I have to come up with FRENCH names? What the hell?