Wow, guys, the response to that last chapter was incredible! You're all so nice to me, I love you!
Forgot to mention last time, special mention to Sliverloc303 for reading the whole thing from the beginning and then reviewing - seriously good effort, thank you so much! That must have taken ages! If there's anybody else out there who's read everything in one sitting, let me know, that's incredible!
Anyway, none of you are interested in this bit...
DISCLAIMER: I'm not Victor Hugo. I do love the Hunchback of Notre Dame, though. And Les Mis, obviously.
Éponine heard the shot and the screams as she rounded a corner, not far from the protest, and the sudden panic seemed to give her wings. Fighting to get past the crowds of people running around like headless chickens, she sprinted towards the top of the street, where Enjolras had mentioned they'd be.
From the crowd she heard a shout of 'GAVROCHE?! GAV?! WHERE ARE YOU?!'' Craning her neck, she spotted the dishevelled dark curls of Grantaire, and she moved as quickly as she could towards him. Once she was there, they stood closely together and shouted in each other's ears over the noise of the crowd.
'GRANT!'
'PONY! IS GAV WITH YOU?'
'NO, HE'S WITH YOU! HAVE YOU LOST HIM!?'
'HE WAS RIGHT WITH ME AND I TOLD HIM TO STAY BUT HE RAN OFF!'
'SHIT!'
'I'M SORRY!'
'WHERE'S ENJOLRAS? HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING HIM!'
'I DON'T KNOW'
'FUCK FUCK SHIT BUGGER TWAT COCKFACE! WE HAVE TO FIND HIM!'
'I'LL TAKE HIM TO THE STAGE IF I DO, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO SEE THERE!'
'THANKS!'
They shared a worried look and then started to beat their way through the people, shouting for Gavroche as they went.
'GAVROCHE!? GAVROCHE!?'
Enjolras couldn't see him anywhere – he couldn't see a thing in this melee. The skirmish in the middle of the crowd had turned into a full-on brawl, with men fighting tooth and nail all around him. Damn it, I wanted passion not aggression! All this fighting among ourselves won't help anybody except the government, it gives them an excuse!
'GAVROCHE!?'
Still alone in the crowd, Enjolras had a sudden thought.
'Éponine is going to MURDER me.'
As he thought this, he spotted a tiny figure lying on the ground. GAVROCHE! He pushed the people between them out of his way and crouched next to the small boy he had seen, protecting him from the crowd with his body.
The boy was unconscious, his face peaceful under his straight, dark brown hair, and a deep wound in his skinny little leg. He was dressed in old, ragged clothing, several sizes too large for him, and was barefoot. It wasn't Gavroche, but he needed help, so Enjolras gently picked him up – he was making a habit of this, and took him to the stage, out of the way of the crowd. There was precious little Enjolras could do to help, but he would at least be safe here until Joly was available. With one last look back to check the boy was all right, Enjolras re-entered the fray to search again for Gavroche.
'GAVROCHE?!'
'GAVROCHE!?'
She was virtually hysterical, frantically searching for her brother in all the commotion, when suddenly a thin, long-fingered hand grabbed her arm from behind and pulled her back. She screamed in shock, but the breath left her completely when she saw who it was.
'Hello, Nina.'
Considering he was in a crowd of people he didn't know, Grantaire seemed to find his friends pretty often. First he bumped into a horrified Jehan, then a heavily bruised Bossuet, who told him that Feuilly and Bahorel were right in the heart of the fighting. He told them both to head for the stage and look out for Gavroche or any of Les Amis on the way, then continued his search.
He thought he saw Gavroche's golden curls, and was about to shout when suddenly, sirens filled the air. Oh, no.
'Montparnasse…' she breathed. Her childhood friend turned glamorous assassin smirked down at her, his hand still locked on her arm.
'Long time no see' he replied smoothly.
She was so confused… what did he want? Why was he here? Did this mean her father was here? Did he have Gavroche?!
'Is… is this you? Did you start this?' she demanded, gesturing to the ruckus in the street around them.
'I'm hurt you'd assume that' he teased her, mock shock on his handsome face.
'ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION'
'All right, all right… no, it's not me. Think the Patron might be involved though.'
Her stomach dropped like a stone. 'My Pa?'
'No. He's not here.'
'Thank fuck for that… listen, 'Parnasse, I really need to find Gav, have you seen him?'
Montparnasse looked confused and opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as the air exploded with sirens. Their eyes met, and they understood each other instantly, without having to say a word. We have to get out of here.
'I can't leave Gav, I have to find him!' she was despairing now, how could she get everyone together and out of there before the police got them all.
'It should be easy now, everyone's scattering… Meet me later. My cemetery. Midnight. I need to talk to you.'
She nodded and replied 'If you see Gav, send him to the stage!', but Montparnasse was gone. He'd disappeared into the shadows.
Gavroche heard the sirens and panicked. The crowd started to disperse as people ran from the police, allowing him to see around him a bit better. He spotted Marius and ran towards him, shouting his name in relief.
'GAVROCHE! Thank God! Come with me to the stage, everyone's beside themselves!' He grabbed the man's hand and they ran, but were intercepted by Combeferre before they got there.
'We need to get out of here, head for my place, stay out of the way of the Police.'
'Got it'
Between Combeferre's directions to everyone he saw, and Les Amis' common sense, most of them were gone within a few minutes of the arrival of the police. Éponine was the last to leave, along with Ferre, who told her Gavroche was safe.
The pair reached their apartment at around half four, bursting through the door and collapsing against it as they caught their breath from the long run. Their kitchen and living room were filled with people, all busy: Cosette and Marius were trying to calm down a hysterical Jehan, who was crying on the sofa into a very uncomfortable-looking Enjolras' shoulder; Feuilly, Bahorel and Bossuet were sat on the kitchen benches, having their bruises and other minor injuries tended to by Sylvie and Musichetta; Grantaire was drinking silently in the corner; Joly was bent over small bodies laid out on the kitchen table, assisted by Courfeyrac. The sight of Joly snapped Éponine back into action and she shouted 'GAVROCHE!' and darted over to the kitchen. She nearly fell over when she saw not only Gavroche, but Jacques and another small boy lying there, receiving treatment. Gavroche grinned at her when he saw her, and she stroked his hair and almost burst into tears with relief. Once she recovered from the shock, she asked 'what have you been doing?!'
'Don't worry, he's fine. Well, he's been shot, but it just grazed his stomach, and didn't do too much damage, so he'll be all right.' Joly reassured her as he worked on Jacques' leg, picking out pieces of glass.
'SHOT!? Dammit Gavroche, I told you you shouldn't go and now look!'
'I'm fine, quit fussin'!'
'Oh God, I'm going to kill you!' She kissed his head softly, leaving her lips pressed against his hair for a second as she closed her eyes with relief. He's going to be fine…
Combeferre came over and started to help Joly, taking the pulse of the tiny boy she didn't recognise. He couldn't be older than five; he was so tiny, laid out on that table. His eyes were closed and he was showing no signs of moving.
'It's really weak, Jol' Combferre informed the young medical student, worriedly.
'I thought it might be. How's his breathing?'
'Shallow, laboured. What happened to him?'
'I think he's been trampled. He hasn't woken up since Courfeyrac found him on the street, curled up unconscious. Keep an eye on his breathing for me, please.'
'Is it Georges? Is he ok?!' Gavroche tried to sit up and see, but Éponine pushed him back down gently. She met Joly's eyes and saw the deep sadness in them which told her Georges wasn't ok. And he wasn't going to be.
'Joly's trying his hardest, Gav, but Georges is very hurt…'
'What 'bout Jacques, is he ok?!'
'He should be fine' confirmed Joly. 'Just some flesh wounds from broken glass. There's a whole bottle in this leg, it's like someone smashed it on him deliberately. I sedated him, he kept kicking me in the face… we'll have to ask him when he wakes up.'
Just at that moment, Enjolras walked over to see if he could help in any way. Filled with a sudden fury, Éponine burst out 'YOU?! Don't you think you've done enough?!'
The room fell silent. Even Jehan's sobbing stopped.
'I don't know what you mean, Éponine.' Enjolras replied, calmly.
'OH, you've FORGOTTON, have you?!' She stood up. 'I ASKED YOU SPECIFICALLY TO LOOK AFTER GAVROCHE AND YOU SAID YOU WOULD, YOU GAVE ME YOUR WORD!'
'I actually just nodded, but –'
'OH WELL I SUPPOSE IT'S HIS OWN FAULT HE GOT SHOT THEN! SHOT, ENJOLRAS! BY A FUCKING GUN!'
'That's not what I'm saying at all –'
'WELL THAT'S FUCKING LUCKY BECAUSE IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT. YOU WANTED YOUR LITTLE PROTEST SO YOU CAN PLAY THE HERO EVEN THOUGH THOSE LAWS AREN'T EVEN YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM'
'They're EVERYONE'S problem! And I don't want to sound like I'm not truly sorry, because I am, but Gavroche is FINE!'
'YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING DICKHEAD, HOW IS GETTING SHOT FINE?! HOW IS JACQUES' LEG GETTING FILLED WITH GLASS FINE?! LITTLE GEORGES MIGHT NOT WAKE UP ALL, IS THAT FINE TOO?! I HOPE YOU'RE REALLY PROUD OF YOURSELF. YOU'VE MADE A BIG CHANGE FOR SOCIETY HERE, ENJOLRAS. THERE'RE NOW FAR LESS STREET KIDS KNOCKING AROUND NOW. BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL FUCKING INJURED BECAUSE OF YOU!'
'It was going well before that fight broke out!'
'I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!'
'YOU SHOULD GIVE A SHIT! EVERYONE HERE GIVES A SHIT! GAVROCHE GIVES A SHIT, AND THAT'S WHY HE WAS THERE! DON'T YOU THINK I HATE MYSELF FOR WHAT'S HAPPENED TO GAV AND THESE KIDS AND MY FRIENDS? BECAUSE I DO!'
'GOOD, BECAUSE IT IS 100% YOUR FAULT!'
'That's not entirely fair Éponine' Combeferre cut in. 'Enjolras never forced any of us to go. We were there because we wanted to be, because we care'
'GAVROCHE IS NINE. HE DOESN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT THESE FUCKING LAWS MEAN! HE WAS THERE TO BE ONE OF THE FUCKING BIG BOYS!'
'OI, I'M NOT STUPID!'
'HE UNDERSTANDS MORE THAN YOU GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR, HE'S AT THE MEETINGS, HE KNOWS!'
'HE SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN INVOLVED AT ALL! HE'S A FUCKING KID!'
'OI!'
'I REGRET IT NOW, OF COURSE I DO! BUT HE'S FINE, SO FOR NOW CAN WE JUST CALM DOWN AND WORK OUT WHAT TO DO NEXT?!'
'CALM DOWN!? MY BABY BROTHER HAS BEEN SHOT!'
'I KNOW, BUT –'
'BUT NOTHING! THIS WAS YOUR FIGHT ENJOLRAS, BUT INSTEAD OF YOU GETTING WHAT WAS COMING TO YOU FROM THAT CROWD, THREE LITTLE KIDS HAVE GOT IT. I WISH IT WAS YOU LAYING HERE ON THE TABLE IN GAV'S POSITION, SO YOU COULD TELL ME THAT WAS 'FINE'. BECAUSE MY BABY BROTHER DESERVES FUCKING BETTER!'
Enjolras was visibly hurt by these words and had no response. Éponine had never been so angry, and she held his gaze fiercely, feeling the fire burning in her gut. There wasn't a sound in the room.
'Guys… Georges isn't breathing anymore.' Combeferre said softly. Everyone turned to look as Joly took the tiny boy's pulse, then looked at Combeferre and shook his head. Cosette, Sylvie and Jehan burst into tears, the girls in the arms of their respective partners, and Jehan alone on the sofa. Courfeyrac moved over to comfort him, though was visibly upset himself. Musichetta buried her head into Bossuet's shoulder, who wrapped his arms around her. Grantaire put his bottle of beer down and put his face in his hands. Bahorel looked like he wanted to punch something. Combeferre and Joly stood helplessly next to Georges' body.
Éponine broke eye contact with Enjolras and looked at the floor for a second, then said simply 'well. There it is. I hope you're proud of yourself.' She turned away to take Gavroche's hand and squeezed it, wiping away his silent tears with the other hand.
:(
Please review, I'm interested to hear your responses to this one