LES DÉSCENDANTS

~Chapter 4: Être un Idéaliste (To Be an Idealist)~

Content warning: R touches briefly upon his depressive thoughts.

"This is so cozy, R.  I mean that."

Picture the smallest studio apartment in France.  Now picture easels and half-finished paintings cluttering the walls and floors, with only enough room for one couch and one wrap-around counter with several cabinets above.  That was Grantaire's apartment, and along with the glow of numerous candles, it was unbelievably cozy and homey.  

Grantaire smiled softly.  "Drink?" 

I looked at him incredulously.

"I meant water," he laughed softly, pouring himself a glass.  "I've been stone-cold sober ever since our talk, don't worry about it."

I smiled in spite of my worries...in spite of what I was about to do...as my mind flickered back to that conversation.

"We need to look out for our health," I had said.  "I need you to help us with the revolution, and the first step to doing that is to cut down on your alcohol consumption. I'm not saying to stop cold. I'm saying to give it a rest for the rest of tonight, and try to do better in the future. Do it for me. Do it for the cause. And if you can't do it for that, do it for Enjolras..."

"So, first of all, is he mad at you?" began Grantaire, waking me from my thoughts.

"No, R, as far as he's aware, I'm in the same room as him, talking with Jehan and I may or may not be throwing pillows at him as we speak."

"Are you sober?" he asked.

"Of course, R.  I suppose I should start this from the very beginning."

"You mean to say there's two of you?" said R, again being too smart for his own good.

"There was a book," I began, slowly.  "A book that possessed the magic that brought Jehan, then myself here, and it told a much darker story.  The only person who survived this story was Marius."

Grantaire scoffed, nervously.  "Book?  Fiction, I hope?"

"History, "I corrected.  "History...which I fought to reverse.  Most of us survived during our first try.  Now I'm back to make things right, and if Enjolras finds out, all is ruined.  That's why I can't tell him."

Grantaire paled.

"So the you that's currently having a pillow fight with Enjolras is the you that's attempting to save everything for the first time?"

I nodded.  "And it worked.  Less people died."

"But people must have still died, because you're back," said R.

"Exactly.  And if Enjolras sees double of me, or if I see myself...time could be forever in peril.  Enjolras might attack one of us, or worse, I could get captured by the Guard or something.  But I have to speak to Enjolras at some point...there's a speech he didn't give."

"Av," he gulped, moving closer to me on the couch.  "Did I die the second time?"

"Oui.  That's another thing.  You, the girl Éponine, and...my brother.  Three losses is better than what originally was set to happen, yes, but...Lamarque said you can't bring back the dead.  And part of me wants to say I can just re-write history...but my brother died in the future.  His fate was already sealed."

R shook his head, unwilling to believe it.

"I want to try and save you, and 'Ponine, because you haven't been to my world, and thus your fate is not sealed.  But...a life without Jehan..."