The Night That Ends At Last *Les Miserables Romance (Enjolras)*

Chapter 14: The Final Battle

(A/N: Just a little thing to say, ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?! Well, here it goes...enjoy this long anticipated finale.)

Chapter 14: The Final Battle

Let others rise,

To take our place!

Until the Earth is free!

~~**~~

“Enjolras!” Bousset shouted. The leader’s head shot up. His friend frantically pointed up to the top of the barricade. The men turned their heads as one to where he was pointing. Enjolras cursed under his breath, fear now in his eyes. His beloved was right in the vision of the National Guard. What is she doing? She could be killed any moment. Then he saw the gun she was holding.

“Joleigh!” He cried, scrambling to the edge. When did she get that? Bahorel was doing the same as well as Jehan and Feuilly, but none were as fast as Enjolras. She wasn’t listening, her back turned to them and arm raised.

Joleigh had never fired a gun before. Her arm was rocking, the aim shaking as she tried to focus it on the red and blue. The soldiers were pointing at her, but she didn’t care. Even if she hit a different man, the message would be clear; at least someone would pay for Gav’s life. Her breathing slowed as she concentrated, her grip tightening on the trigger. For the first time in her life Joleigh felt nothing.

Enjolras yelled her name, over and over. He didn’t want to lose her; his heart was beating frantically, his stomach churning. He also didn’t want her to be scarred with the toll of taking someone’s life. Joleigh was too innocent, too naïve; she probably had no idea of what she was doing! Enjolras was terrified. His friends were terrified. Some were dead. Gavroche was dead. He knew Joleigh was grief stricken; but this was not the time to lose your mind. Enjolras knew she was going to regret it if she shot the man, and he was going to stop her before doing so. The leader pushed him self up on top of a broken staircase, shoved aside a post in his way and reached for his fiancée. So close. Enjolras grunted and scrambled higher, his friends not far behind, everyone screaming at Joleigh hysterically. He knew she was fighting back the urge to turn away.

The girl stiffened as her knuckles turned white. You can do it. A voice whispered. Shoot the innocent man. Kill him. He killed Gavroche. He killed Eponine. Joleigh clenched her jaw and her arm steadied. Everything around her froze. Her fingers tensed on the handle. Her conscience seemed to laugh at her.  Do it! You’ll all die anyways. Joleigh’s eyes widened in fear at her own dark thought.

She pulled the trigger.

Two things happened at this moment. The first was Joleigh firing the gun. The other was Enjolras lunging forwards and pulling her down in his last burst of energy. The result was a bullet buried into the beam right above the officer’s head. The world went back into motion. Everyone watched in silence as their leader dragged the girl back to the street, kicking and screaming as her feelings returned to her.

“Why didn’t you let me kill him?” she bawled, collapsing onto the pavement beside Courfeyrac and Gavroche. “Why? I was so close! I could have-“

“Joleigh, please-“ Enjolras bent down and tried to hold her, but Joleigh pushed him away, elbowing him in the chest roughly.

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” her eyes burned with hatred and grief. Enjolras stepped back, his face turning pale; paler than before. His heart shattered. Joleigh had never shouted at him like that before. When she realized what she had done, Joleigh burst into tears over Gav’s body. The boys looked at one another in distress, not knowing what to do, others averted their eyes. They had never seen Joleigh like this. The students sunk their heads. Jehan tried to move to comfort her, but Enjolras waved him away. The leader took his rifle in silence, turned away from the scene and grabbed Combeferre’s shoulder. His lieutenant stood and pulled away from comforting the still whimpering Courfeyrac. Joleigh immediately lent on his shoulder to hide her red face. She reached out to stroke that flyaway strand of Gavroche’s hair. My little man. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there; I should have not let you out of my sight.