Chapter XXIX

"Gabrielle, wake up." Gabrielle's eyes fluttered sleepily open to see Enjolras hovering over her. He looked unbelievably handsome in his crimson jacket, a color he had taken to wearing again lately. She figured it was his way to silently acknowledge and remind himself of the barricade daily, though she doubted he could forget, anyway. Gabrielle yawned and looked around at the afternoon sunlight streaming in, realizing she must have fallen asleep in the library.

"What time is it?" she mumbled, and sat up, wincing at the ache she felt in her back from sleeping on the sofa.

"It's just after 3. Did you have a nice nap?" Enjolras smirked a bit, knowing full well he was the reason she was too tired to go to the orphanage that day and couldn't seem to stay awake.

"Very. And I can assure you I will be sleeping well tonight, Monsieur. Your very pregnant wife needs her rest." She playfully pushed at his shoulder and he laughed, capturing her hand and raising it to his lips.

"You had as much fun last night as I did. And I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise? What?!" Gabrielle grinned, her sleepiness forgotten.

"Come and see." Enjolras pulled her up from the sofa and covered her eyes with his hands, slowly leading her into the hall. "Don't peek," he ordered sternly, and took his hands away to open the door. Gabrielle kept her eyes closed as he took her hand and helped her into the room, and finally he said quietly, "Alright. You can open them now."

Gabrielle opened her eyes and gasped. A beautiful crib stood in the corner, and the larger bed that usually occupied their second bedroom was gone. "Antoine...you..." Gabrielle looked at him and laughed, tears stinging her eyes. "When did you buy this? And how did you get it here without me noticing? It's beautiful!"

She walked over to the crib and ran her fingers over the dark cherry wood. She could just imagine laying their baby down to sleep at night, standing over the edge to watch him or her fall asleep...

Gabrielle turned around and threw her arms around Enjolras' neck, kissing him soundly. "Thank you."

"Do you like it? We can always get something different, but you mentioned that we need a nursery, so I thought I could try and make a start..."

"No, I love it! It's staying right here." She kissed his cheek and cupped his face. "See? I knew you would come around."

He jerked his head towards their bedroom and smiled. "There's something else in there."

"Something else?!" Gabrielle exclaimed, and took his hand, pulling him into their bedroom next. She found a tiny cradle next to their bed, made from the same dark wood as the crib. She knelt down and rocked it gently, looking up at him. "This was so thoughtful of you, Antoine. Thank you."

He shrugged and perched on the edge of the bed, watching her. "Musichetta said I should get both, that for the first few months, the baby should probably sleep in our room. It was her, really, I had no idea what I was doing."

Gabrielle laughed. "That doesn't matter. I love them both, thank you." She looked back down at the cradle and nudged it to rock. "There's going to be a baby in this in a few months," she whispered. "Have you really thought about it at all?"

"Really? It's all I can think about."

Gabrielle smiled and rubbed her stomach. "Have you thought about what you want? A boy or a girl?"

"I don't know...I suppose a boy would be nice. I don't think I'd know what to do with a girl," he admitted. "Obviously, the fairer sex has always been a bit of a mystery to me."

Gabrielle couldn't help the laugh that escaped her, remembering how chaste and gentlemanly Enjolras always was and the way he could barely meet her eyes when they first met. "That is true, you'll be quite out of your league if it's a girl."

A peculiar happiness came over Gabrielle as they talked, and she realized how much she had wanted to have these kinds of conversations with him all along. "I'm glad you can talk about this now. Thank you for trying so hard for me."

Enjolras leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "It's good for me, I think. I should face my fears and whatnot, as Combeferre would say."

Gabrielle moved to sit beside him on the bed and reached out a hand to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. "I hope, whether it's a boy or a girl, that it looks like you."

Enjolras looked at her, the corner of his mouth quirked upward. "And I want the exact opposite. I can see that, actually..." He sighed and took her hand, playing with her fingers. "A little girl with your dark curly hair, running through the house. And if she's anything like you at all, she'll be able to make me bend to her will with just a look."

Gabrielle laughed. "I do have a talent for that. It would be nice to pass it on." Her hand moved to her stomach as she felt a particularly hard series of kicks begin, and she looked uncertainly at Enjolras. "The baby is moving right now," she said quietly. "I can feel it kicking."

His eyes widened. "You can actually feel it moving?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, all the time now, especially if I'm sitting still. You can feel it, if you want," Gabrielle said uncertainly. "But you don't have to."

Enjolras glanced up at her and nodded, suddenly looking nervous. "I want to."

Gabrielle took both of his hands and placed them on her stomach, keeping her own hands covering his. The baby was still moving vigorously, and she knew exactly when Enjolras felt it against his palms. His face grew pale, but full of wonder, and he scooted closer, his eyes never leaving her stomach. "That's..." He blew out a soft breath and shook his head, obviously at a loss for words.

Gabrielle watched him carefully, and was happy to see no trace of panic or unhappiness in his eyes. He was clearly fascinated.

"What do you think?" she finally asked.

"I think it's incredible," he mumbled, his brow furrowed. "Of all the amazing things in the universe, of all the things I've read about – about science, and life, and politics, and history – this is by far the most insane thing I've ever felt. I just can't make sense of it." He shook his head again as he felt the baby kicking and moving. "That two people can create another life together, that a real human being can come from nothing but us...I mean, that's...that's our baby."

Gabrielle tried very hard not to laugh at how his mind worked, but she did find him endlessly amusing. Things that touched him in an indescribably human way, he somehow had to try and make sense of through the things he'd read about in books. "Yes, it is."

Enjolras heard the laughter in her voice and glanced up at her, his cheeks turning red. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Yes." Gabrielle smiled and leaned forward, kissing his forehead. "But I think you're rather sweet, love."

"What does it feel like for you?" he asked. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Well, sometimes, but only for a second. It feels...well, exactly like what it is. Like someone is kicking and poking me from the inside." She laughed. "It's very strange, honestly. My belly will move sometimes, too."

"Really?" Enjolras muttered. "That's amazing." After a while, the baby ceased kicking and Enjolras looked up at her again. "It stopped. What does that mean?"

Gabrielle cocked her head at him and smiled. "Well, do you move constantly? Maybe it's asleep, or just tired."

Enjolras moved his hands to her neck and gently drew her lips to his. "Thank you," he said softly, "for being so patient with me. I'm a lucky man, Gabrielle."

"Yes, you are," Gabrielle agreed, and grinned as she began to untie his cravat. She couldn't help it – he looked so handsome in that red coat, and he was just being so wonderfully Enjolras. She didn't think she would ever stop wanting him. Gabrielle tossed the cravat suggestively to the floor and began to unbutton his waistcoat next, pressing her lips to the exposed skin just below his throat.

"I thought you said you wanted to sleep," he smirked.

"I said I was going to sleep tonight," Gabrielle corrected him saucily. "It's still the afternoon, love."

Enjolras laughed and immediately shrugged out of his crimson coat. "You'll have no objections from me."

The lovely spring days of May soon turned into the only slightly warmer days of June. Flowers bloomed, birds sang, and Enjolras remembered. Sometimes, he felt like he had one foot firmly planted in the present, anxiously watching Gabrielle's stomach grow and anticipating the birth of their child in the fall, while the other foot was rooted firmly in the past, still desperately hanging on to the memory of his friends. Every single day, he found himself thinking about what he had been doing at that exact moment last year – was he writing one of the many pamphlets they had distributed? Was he holding a rally, preaching to those that would listen? Was he in class, only half listening to his professors because his heart and mind were elsewhere?

Enjolras woke on the morning of June 5th in his usual position – arms around Gabrielle, her back firmly pressed against his chest, one hand lightly resting on her waist. But he was tense, his body poised for flight. He had been dreading this day for weeks. He didn't know what to do with himself, really. Did he go about his business as if it were any other day? Did he hole up by himself with a bottle of wine and get drunk out of his mind? (He had never been drunk out of his mind, so he didn't really think that was the smartest option.) There were no graves he could go visit, no memorial to pay his respects to.

His frustrated sigh woke Gabrielle and she groggily opened her eyes. He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck and rested his chin against her shoulder.

"Good morning." He knew this day would probably be hard for her, too, considering it was the first anniversary of her brother's death – well, technically, that was tomorrow. But everything had begun today, with their forceful takeover of Lamarque's funeral. His arms tightened around Gabrielle as he frowned, feeling guilt wash over him at the thought that Feuilly would never get to meet his niece or nephew. It just wasn't fair.

"How are you?" Gabrielle asked quietly, reaching up to run her fingers lightly over the stubble on his jaw. She looked concerned as she turned her head to meet his eyes.

"I'm...I don't know. I don't know what to do with myself today."

She understood immediately. "I don't think anyone would begrudge you if you wanted to stay home today, Antoine. There's nothing wrong with giving yourself time to grieve. I'm sure Marius and Joly are doing the same thing."

"Is it grieving or wallowing after a year?" he asked with a frown.

"Grieving," Gabrielle said softly. There were tears in her eyes, he noticed. It felt like a punch in the gut to see her cry.

"I wish we knew where they were. I just...I wish I could...pay my respects. Not that it would really mean anything. Nothing would change."

Gabrielle turned over to face him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss just above his heart. He felt a few of her tears fall onto his skin and he swallowed hard, gently rubbing her back. "Well..." she said shakily, "You could go to the Musain. I know it would be hard for you, love, but, if you want to pay your respects, I see no better place than that."

Enjolras froze, his blood turning cold in his veins. He hadn't been back to the Musain at all, had never planned on going back. He knew from hearing others talk that it was closed now, boarded up and home only to vagrants and rats. He didn't know if he could face that place again. But, Gabrielle was right, in a way; if he wanted to see the final resting place of his friends, that was the closest thing to it. And it did seem like it could possibly begin to bring closure to that time in his life, and help him fully open the door to the future.

"Maybe you're right...you usually are," he admitted lightly, trying to illicit a smile from Gabrielle's tearstained face.

Instead, she asked quietly, "Can I go with you?"

Enjolras tensed again and Gabrielle bit her lip, gripping his arm. "I just...I want to see it, too. And I want to be there if you need me. And I might need you. I don't want to be alone today."

"I don't know, Gabrielle," Enjolras worried. "I'm afraid it will make you upset. Well, I know it will. You know how I worry about you...Joly says it isn't good for the baby for you to get worked up."

Gabrielle pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and Enjolras could feel that she was trying to let him know she understood, but he knew a protest was soon to come.

"Antoine, I'm going to be upset today no matter where I am, or what I'm doing. And I would rather go through it with you by my side than alone. We're a family," she reminded him, "And that's what families are supposed to do."

"Are you really sure?" he whispered.

"Yes, I'm very sure. I don't want you to go alone, if you do decide to go. And I want to see..." Gabrielle swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Maybe it's morbid, I don't know. But I want to see it again. I can't get it out of my mind, anyway."

Enjolras realized that they had never really talked about what Gabrielle did see that morning when she came to the barricade. He could only imagine, though, considering he had lived through those last awful moments, remembered the blood coating the cobblestones, and the broken pieces of furniture and splinters of wood flying every which way from the cannons firing at the barricade. It must have been awful, and shocking after a still night of waiting for word.

"I'm sorry you saw it at all," he said mournfully. "A lesser woman wouldn't have been able to handle it."

"I didn't have to focus on it very long. I was too distracted trying to get you out of there." She suddenly looked puzzled and ran a finger along his chest. Enjolras shivered, grateful for her touch that helped to anchor him there in the present, constantly reminding him that he was, indeed, alive. How could he have ever moved on without her?

"I think I was a little bit in love with you, even then," Gabrielle said quietly. "Certainly infatuated. I had you up on a bit of a pedestal, although you were usually preaching from one anyway, whenever I saw you." She smiled in recollection. "I'm glad I have those memories, too, Antoine, of you before. I know how far you've come."

Enjolras suddenly smiled, surprised that he could find a good, even amusing, memory in the midst of his sadness. "Did I ever tell you that I punched Courfeyrac, over you?"

Gabrielle gaped at him, her mouth falling open. "What?!"

Enjolras chuckled and nodded in affirmation. "I did. That night I walked you home, I knew they were going to tease me about it horribly the next day. I ran into Courfeyrac before class in the morning, and he...well." Enjolras gave her a pointed look. "He was not a gentleman with his insinuations. He wouldn't let up, and was being quite crude. So I punched him. I told him I did it so Feuilly wouldn't have to...but I don't think it would have bothered me if he wasn't talking about you. I was furious."

Gabrielle laughed and tilted her head curiously, "Why did it make you so angry? I would have just laughed at him."

"I..." He blushed and squirmed a bit uncomfortably. "Because what he said made me think of actually doing those things to you, and knowing he was thinking of you like that, too, and...well, that's...not right," he finished feebly, his cheeks on fire. "You weren't mine then, not even close. And men shouldn't talk about women like they're only objects of desire; though, obviously, you were quite tempting..."

Gabrielle laughed, Enjolras was happy to see. "Are you saying that maybe, just possibly, you had feelings for me, too? Even felt a little jealous?"

"Maybe."

Gabrielle smiled and suddenly pressed her lips to his, kissing him feverishly. Enjolras felt his body automatically respond – no matter what, she could drive him crazy. He kissed her back, tangling his hands in her hair, and sucked hard on her bottom lip, feeling himself grow hard at sound of her soft moans.

"I feel alive when you touch me," she mumbled against his shoulder. "Even when I feel as horrible as I do today, I know it's alright, because you're here."

Enjolras swallowed, not used to being so overcome with emotion; although, with the absolutely tumultuous year he'd had, he figured he should be used to it by now. Still, he knew how she felt. She anchored him, gave him something to hold on to. Being with her physically had always meant so much more. It was as if he could feel the earth move when he was inside of her, could feel the immensity of the universe, and feel intimately connected with their small place in it. She made him see the stars.

He took her leg and hooked it around his hips, running his hands over her thigh. He felt the heat of her sex against his manhood and kissed her again, feeling relieved and grateful that even on the most difficult of days, he could find solace in being with her. She was a goddess, his Daphne, a temptation he could never get enough of; it was only pure luck that she loved him, too.

Gabrielle met his eyes and leaned her forehead against his, lightly brushing their lips together. "Make love to me. I need you today."

"I need you every day," he whispered, and gently pushed into her, keeping their eyes locked together as he moved inside of her.

Gabrielle whimpered and grasped his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Don't ever leave me, never again," she said softly, and Enjolras could see the sadness behind her eyes, even as he made her gasp in pleasure.

"I won't."

He pressed his lips to hers, the gentle and slow friction between them driving Gabrielle closer to her orgasm. He loved watching her, the way her cheeks reddened, how her hands clung desperately to him, how it felt as she tightened around his length. He pulled her closer, his hand firmly gripping her leg and keeping it securely around his hips.

"Look at me," he commanded softly, and Gabrielle opened her eyes to meet his again. She made the softest of sounds from low in her throat, her breath coming in short bursts. She made him feel alive, too, reminded him that he needed to be present, that he wanted to be present, that he wanted to live to be a hundred years old, if it meant living those years with her.

Enjolras thrust a bit harder as he felt his own release building, coiling low in his stomach. He felt suddenly possessive, overcome with feelings he didn't understand, a mix of happiness and misery running through him as he felt Gabrielle break apart in his hands, tears suddenly running down her face. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and Enjolras realized he was near tears, too. His body shuddered as he spilled into her, and a low moan, half of misery and half of ecstasy, escaped his throat.

Gabrielle cried against his chest and Enjolras held her close, stroking her hair and gently kissing every bit of skin within his reach. He wasn't embarrassed by his own tears, either; his friends deserved them. The world deserved them, and his broken, but beautiful Patria deserved them, too.

They laid together for the next hour, skin against skin, and Enjolras was surprised when Gabrielle asked fearfully, "Antoine?"

"Yes, love?"

"You said something to me once, when you were recovering. You said you should have died, that you wanted to die." She looked at him and tried to smile. "I know you love me, and I think, or hope, that you're truly happy. But, part of me still wonders. Do you still feel that way? If you could go back, would you...would you want to die there, with them?"

Enjolras shook his head firmly, surprised at how quickly he knew the answer. There was no doubt in his mind, even if there would always be guilt. "No. I want to live, Gabrielle. Maybe it's selfish, considering what I caused. But I want to live. I want to live with you, and our child. I want our life."

Gabrielle smiled slowly, relief in her eyes. "Good."

Gabrielle clung to Enjolras' hand as they walked slowly down the Rue St. Denis, toward the site of the barricade and her husband's failed dream. One hand curled protectively around her stomach as Gabrielle gazed at the surrounding buildings, remembering how everything had looked a year ago. The streets had been so eerily quiet that morning when she finally ventured out to look for her brother, except for the soldiers that still lingered when she had reached the barricade. It had been a scene of utter destruction; shattered fragments of glass littering the ground, furniture blown to bits, broken bodies twisted and laying wherever they had fallen. She shuddered and moved closer to her husband, grateful when his arm encircled her shoulders. She knew he needed her today, possibly even more than she needed him.

As the neared the Musain, Enjolras grew pale. The already dilapidated building had fallen into further disrepair in the last year, its tilted shape looking precarious at best. Gabrielle followed his gaze up to the second story window, and knew they were both thinking of the same thing.

Her mouth suddenly felt unbelievably dry, and she wished for a drink of water. It was hard to breathe, thinking about what had happened right where they stood, and her eyes drifted roughly to the spot where she had last seen her brother's body, still draped across the barricade, his clothes stained with blood. She had known since he began his association with the Les Amis that he was putting himself in danger. As soon as she attended her first meeting and saw the passion that moved Enjolras, the unyielding and dangerous fire that lit him from within, she understood. He would stop at nothing, and he would go down in a blaze of glory if he had to, if it meant coaxing the people to rise and embrace their liberty.

He had done his part, as had his friends. It was the rest of France that wasn't yet ready. That was a fear Feuilly had expressed to Gabrielle a few times since he met Enjolras, though she wasn't sure he had ever voiced his opinion to his chief. Though Feuilly was a few years older than Enjolras, Gabrielle had immediately seen how he admired the brave young student. Enjolras was able to give voice to the ideas Feuilly always held dear himself, and Gabrielle knew her brother was flattered that such an intelligent and educated young man recognized his own innate, and hard won, intelligence. It had even made her proud that Enjolras held her brother in such esteem, and when he had begun to pay attention to her, as well...she was lost.

Even as he unmoored her, though, Enjolras had found her again. And now they were so tied together Gabrielle wasn't even sure where she ended and he began. They stopped walking the closer they got to the Musain, and Gabrielle looked up at Enjolras, squeezing his hand.

"Are you alright?"

He glanced down at her, his eyes a torrent of emotions. "I don't know."

Gabrielle turned towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against his chest. He held her tightly, and they both felt no need to speak. There were no words that could possibly express the grief and guilt he felt, but Gabrielle hoped that the love they found together over the last year would be enough to make him happy.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, pulling away to look down at her in concern.

"I'm fine. Do you want to go inside?" Gabrielle glanced at the café, worrying her bottom lip. "I'll go with you, Antoine. You made it this far...you should go all the way."

Enjolras nodded slowly, his eyes drifting up the facade of the building again. After a moment he asked, "I was hanging from there? When you arrived here?"

Gabrielle nodded, closing her eyes against the memory. "Still holding the flag," she whispered. "I thought you were dead. Thank God you weren't."

Enjolras grasped her hand again and took a deep breath, drawing himself up to his full height. He marched forward to the door and pushed against it. It opened easily, and though he hesitated for the briefest of moments, he bravely stepped inside to meet his ghosts. Gabrielle followed, footsteps echoing on the dusty wooden floor. The inside of the Musain looked as bad as the outside, like it had barely been touched since the barricade. The floor was littered with empty bottles and glasses; even an old boot lay in the corner. The light was dim and the place smelled musty, making Gabrielle feel a bit nauseous, even though it had been weeks since she'd been sick.

Enjolras immediately gravitated to the staircase in back, though it looked like it would barely hold him. He stopped and glanced at Gabrielle, his face strangely blank. "I don't think you should go up here," he said. "It doesn't look safe."

"I don't want you to go alone. Unless you want to?" Gabrielle reached up and gently touched his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I want you to go with me," he finally admitted. "Let me go first, make sure the stairs will hold." Reluctantly, they unclasped their hands and Enjolras approached the stairs, gingerly testing the weight of each one. As derelict as they looked, they seemed steady enough, and he reached out his hand to help her up after he was satisfied they were relatively safe. Gabrielle ascended the stairs slowly and gave Enjolras a reassuring smile once they reached the top. He briefly laid his hand on her stomach and kissed her forehead before releasing a heavy breath and turning to face the room.

Gabrielle stood behind him, feeling the heaviness that hung in the air. It was oppressive, like a stifling blanket, even with the sunlight that streamed in through the open window. She looked down at the floor, her brow furrowing when she noticed it was riddled with holes. She suddenly remembered what Enjolras had told her, about the soldiers firing through the floor, how he alone was the only one untouched by bullets. Gabrielle covered her mouth to keep from crying out and squeezed her eyes shut.

When she finally looked back to Enjolras, he had moved into the middle of the room. He stood still as a statue, his head in his hands. Gabrielle didn't move, but watched him carefully. A shudder ran through him and he suddenly reached out a silent hand towards her. Gabrielle quickly crossed the room and gripped his hand, pulling him near her. Enjolras bent his head and buried his face in her neck, and Gabrielle could feel his tears soaking her collar. He was silent as he cried, but his body shook uncontrollably. "Oh, my love," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

After minutes that seemed an eternity, Enjolras let out a shaky breath and whispered, "It feels like I'm being watched. Like their spirits are at my back, but as soon as I turn, they're gone..."

Gabrielle pushed his hair back, kissing his forehead. "You need to let them rest, Antoine. I know they don't blame you. I know it."

"He does," Enjolras said dully, and straightened, vigorously rubbing at his eyes.

"Who does?"

"Grantaire," Enjolras whispered. He took a deep breath and crossed to the window. He suddenly looked feverish, and gestured to the stairs. "I was standing here, waiting. The others were dead on the floor, and the soldiers were coming up the stairs. I just stood here, looking down at the barricade, and..."

Gabrielle turned away for a minute, feeling sick. She had come so close to losing him before he was even hers, and even though it was done, in the past, it was still enough to make her heart speed up in panic. He didn't seem to notice her distress and continued.

"The soliders came...Captain Martin. And they just stared at me for a minute. I don't think they knew what to do, if they were really going to kill me or not. I looked into Martin's eyes, and he was wavering, I could tell...and then Grantaire, damn him." Now that Enjolras was talking, he couldn't seem to stop. "He stumbled up those stairs, probably drunk out of his mind. He'd been asleep the whole time, I knew, and I actually thought maybe he was going to be the one to get through it all. But he saw me, and his eyes...they looked right through me. And I couldn't have made him leave if I tried. He just...he took his place by my side, and..." Enjolras trailed off, his voice choked. "Damn him," he whispered again.

Gabrielle could picture it all too clearly in her mind, see it in front of her eyes as she looked around the room. Grantaire, that sometimes vile man who clearly had idolized Enjolras, even as Enjolras despised him. Outwardly, anyway. Gabrielle didn't think Enjolras really had it in him to despise anyone, especially someone who was clearly so lost. Had Grantaire died believing in anything they were fighting for? Gabrielle wondered. Or had he only believed in Enjolras?

"You didn't fail him," Gabrielle said vehemently, knowing that was what Enjolras believed.

Enjolras smiled wryly and reached out to rub at a dark spot on the window. His face darkened as he touched it, and Gabrielle blanched, realizing it was dried blood...either Enjolras' own or Grantaire's.

She suddenly felt dizzy and swayed a bit, reaching out a hand to steady herself, but finding nothing to grasp onto. "Antoine..." she whispered, and suddenly he was at her side, holding her up and looking frightened.

"Gabrielle? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, but leaned against him heavily. Her legs felt weak. "I just...it's...I think I need to sit down."

Enjolras wrapped an arm around her waist, and with one last glance at the room behind them, helped her down the stairs and out into the sunlight. An older woman was hanging her clothes out to dry as they exited the building, and straightened up in alarm at the sight of them coming out of the café. There was a wooden chair behind her that Enjolras made a beeline for.

"Madame," Enjolras said politely, "My wife needs to sit. May we?" He gestured to the chair, and at the woman's faint nod, gratefully helped Gabrielle down. He crouched next to her, clutching her hand and looking at her anxiously. "Are you alright? What do you need?"

Gabrielle took a deep breath and shook her head. "I'm fine, Antoine, I promise. I just...I felt dizzy for a moment. It was...just picturing it..." She swallowed and noticed the woman staring intently at her husband. Gabrielle inclined her head almost imperceptibly towards her and Enjolras followed her gaze.

"I know you, Monsieur," the woman said hesitantly. "I recognize you from before. Haven't seen you around here much anymore..."

"No, Madame," Enjolras said quietly. "There's no need for me to be here anymore."

"Monsieur Enjolras, is it? I remember," she continued. "Quite the young revolutionary, you were. Things have changed from your late night meetings at the Musain, have they? A baby on the way?" The woman smiled, obviously trying to be friendly, and gestured to Gabrielle.

"Yes," Enjolras agreed. "They have changed." He grit his teeth and glared back at the Musain.

The woman's tone softened as she hung another skirt to dry on the line. "I was sorry, Monsieur, about what happened last year. About the fate of your rebellion. In fact, I'm quite surprised to find you alive."

"You aren't the only one," Enjolras agreed softly. He turned back to Gabrielle and squeezed her hand, raising his eyebrows to ask if she was okay.

"I'm feeling much better. We can go now."

"Are you certain?"

Gabrielle nodded and Enjolras helped her up. He nodded his thanks to the woman and they began walking away.

"Good luck, Monsieur Enjolras," she called softly behind them.

Neither turned around, and Gabrielle was grateful to see that Enjolras looked as if he was finally leaving the past behind.

Hi! It took me a few days longer than usual to update because I really wanted to make sure I got this chapter the way I wanted it. I didn't expect to update tonight, either, but I think this is the happiest I'm going to get with this one! It was actually supposed to be longer, but I decided to split it. :) Thank you for all of the wonderful, kind reviews for the last chapter. That one and this one are my favorites of the whole story so far because I really feel like Enjolras is getting somewhere and finally moving on.

Our friend Grantaire will feature in the next chapter. YAY! Hopefully I'll be able to update again on Sunday. Please, please, please, leave a review and let me know what you think! I love checking my phone as my first graders are driving me particularly crazy to see I have some reviews to look forward to when I get home! :)

~Aimee

P.S. I tried to throw a little bit of humor and some more light hearted scenes in here since the last chapter was so heavy, and then the end of this one is, too. I hope it works well together and nothing seems like overkill. PLUS, several people requested the first part of this chapter, with Enjolras feeling the baby move. Hope it lived up to your expectations!