The Incorruptible, Corrupted {l'incorruptible, Corrompu}

~3~

Finally, Maximilien's pulse and breathing slowed back to normal. Reminiscing had helped. He took a deep breath and carefully leaned his forehead against his knees. He needed to just come to terms with his impending death. It was inevitable. He shuddered again, remembering his horrific dream. Had he really been so cruel as to execute one of his friends? And to justify it by claiming that it was for the good of France? Maybe he did deserve to die.

"Maxime," his mother had said to him years ago. "Do you promise to do everything in your power to protect Charlotte, Henriette, and Augustin?" The young boy had nodded as solemnly as a six-year-old could.

"Oui Maman," he'd said, tears filling his wide green eyes. "I promise." She had smiled faintly then motioned for him to leave the room.

"I love you, Maximilien," she'd said softly on his way out.

"I love you too Maman."

She died later that day, Maximilien thought sadly. And I've done a terrible job honoring my promise. The horrific image of his brother leaping headfirst out of a second-floor window flashed through his mind.

"They have the building surrounded Citoyen Robespierre," Saint-Just had said, entering the room." There is almost no chance of escape. They could begin breaking in at any moment." For the first time in many years, Maximilien had felt true fear. Trying to maintain his reputation in front of the few that still supported him, he took a deep breath and attempted to remain calm.

"Are you sure," he had asked, a note of panic evident in his voice despite his efforts. Saint-Just had nodded. Of course he was sure, Maximilien had thought. He's just looked out the window.

"Then we need to be ready just in case they make their way up to us." He picked his pistol up from the top of his desk and loaded it.

Stupid Augustin, Maximilien thought. He'd never known when he'd said too much, drank too much wine, or had joked about something too serious. He always went to an extreme. Yesterday it just happened to be jumping out of a window.

"They've broken in," one of the armed men had shouted as he threw the door open. "We can only hold them off for so long." Gunshots and loud screams had rung out from the lower floors inciting panic in the men above.

"We're going to die," one of the younger men had moaned from the corner. "They're going to kill us all!" Maximilien had wanted to say something reassuring; to tell them that everything would be fine, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The gunshots and sounds of fighting were closer now.

"I don't know about the rest of you," Augustin had said, looking around at the others. "But-" He had been cut off by a loud crash that had resounded from outside in the hallway. Several of the other men had also drawn their various weapons. Maximilien had swallowed hard and gritted his teeth. After several minutes of intense fighting outside the door, the armed soldiers had forced their way into the room. Chaos had ensued.

"Citoyen Robespierre," someone had called. "Run!" Maximilien had laughed bitterly. He was stuck in there just as much as the rest of them.

"Maxime," Augustin had shouted across the room. "I'm not letting them take me alive. I want you to know that-" The rest of what he had been saying was drowned out. It had seemed to satisfy him, however, and with one last sad smile to his brother and a cry of "Vive la Revolution! Vive la Maximilien Robespierre," he dived headfirst out of the window.

Maximilien wasn't sure how long after Augustin had jumped he had done it, but he remembered through all the chaos putting the gun to his head. He shuddered. Perhaps if he hadn't done it he would have made them see reason. Maybe he could have made another speech. That worked out SO well last time. He shifted awkwardly, absentmindedly putting one hand gingerly on his wounded jaw. Everything hurt. His back was sore from sitting on the hard stone ground for so long. His jaw was a terrible splitting pain that made it hard to stay conscious. His head pounded both from not wearing his glasses and his shattered jaw.

As soon as he had pulled the trigger, Maximilien had known he'd made a mistake. Instead of killing him instantly, someone had shoved past in an attempt to escape and caused the gun to shift lower. The bullet had embedded itself in his jaw. He had screamed as it shattered the bone, the pain overwhelming him. Black spots danced in front of him for a few seconds before the screams and gunshots and the blood-soaked room faded to blackness.

No, Maximilien thought as he felt tears welling up again. I will NOT cry. Not again. He tried to remember something from his childhood again, but the only thing that came to mind was Augustin jumping to what he had hoped was death, and the cold metal of the gun pressed against the side of his head. Fear overwhelmed him and he closed his eyes again trying to find anything to calm himself down.