The Incorruptible, Corrupted {l'incorruptible, Corrompu}

~5~

Other than the pain I'm in, the waiting is the worst part of this experience, Maximilien thought to himself. He'd been sitting alone in the dark for what seemed like days, with only his shattered jaw and broken memories as companions. Although that's better than being with others in the sun on my way to the guillotine. 

Days ago he never would have imagined this. At the time he was on top of the world, leading the people of France to victory against their oppressors. Now the people of France had him locked away, awaiting the same death so many of them once had.

They will be cheering, Maximilien predicted. It'll be the same as when the king was executed. They'll cheer and smile and wave their tricolored flags. Some little child will ask what's going on and his parents will tell him that it's the end of a dictatorship. He'll have no idea what's going on, but he'll smile and nod and run through the legs of the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of what's going on. He'll play with the other children and cover his ears at the sound of a head falling into the basket, but still will cheer with the others because his parents are so why shouldn't he!

Saint-Just and I will be last. I'm sure of it. And Agustin will be near the front. They'll want to make me watch him die of course. The same way they had to watch their brothers, sisters, parents, and children die. As much as it pains me, I almost wish he had died, leaping out of that window. 

Maximilien shuddered involuntarily. I need to stop, he told himself firmly. I need to stop thinking about it. But while his voice combined with a few other men could persuade the people of Paris, and all of France, to execute their king and kill their friends, it couldn't persuade him to ignore the inevitable. His impending death.

He opened his eyes, not realizing that they had been closed. He was tired. He was so d*mn tired. Maybe it'd be easier to sleep through his last hours. Maybe they'd let him sleep on his way to the guillotine. There was no way he could walk or stand. Better to sleep through it all and wake up dead. Then he wouldn't have to endure the cheers of the people who once loved him.

He hoped Charlotte wouldn't be there. Nothing good would come from it if she was. It wasn't as if there would last goodbyes. No. The twenty-two men would be fed to the bloodthirsty blade of Madame la Guillotine.

I need it, he decided. I need to sleep. His head hurt too much. Not that I'll have to worry about that for much longer, he thought, softly laughing. He immediately regretted his decision. His jaw seared with pain and his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood, but Maximilien was finding it easier to bear. He leaned contently against the cold wall and let himself fall asleep, far from his fears of death. 

"M-Maximilien,"  Camille Desmoulins said, holding out one hand. "It's g-g-good to see you again."  Maximilian stretched out one hand then paused before seeing Camille's reassuring smile. 

"I-," he stopped, tears filling his eyes. "I'm sorry." Camille nodded.

"It's ok M-maxime. I understand why you d-did it. Although I don't really appreciate it." He smiled to show that he had no hard feelings.

"Did it... did it hurt?" Camille nodded gravely. A feeling of terror tore through Maximilien's body and he instinctively put one hand to his throat. Camille laughed.

"I'm only j-j-joking Maxime," he choked out, doubling over with laughter. "You should h-have seen your face!" Maximilian scowled.

"That's not very nice of you," he said pointedly. "I was scared!"

"You? The Incorruptible? Sc-scared? I bet," Camille said smirking. "And speaking of n-nice, I might not have been nice with m-my little joke, but neither were you and Saint-Just  for sending me to the g-guillotine!" Maximilian fiddled nervously with lace edge of his cravat. Of course, he would bring that up."But h-here we are I suppose."  Maximilian sighed exasperatedly. Trust Camille to make you feel bad about something then disregard it as nothing.

"What is it actually like," he asked. "Does it hurt?" Camille shook his head, a look of deep thought evident on his face.

"No. I don't think so anyway. Quicker and easier than falling asleep. Unless falling asleep is hard for you. Then it's easier than that." Maximilien let out his breath slowly. At least he wasn't going to die painfully, but then again that was the reason the guillotine was invented. To be a 'more humane'  form of execution.

"I... I'm glad you and Georges didn't have to suffer. Can you ever forgive me for what I did?"  Camille grinned slyly.

"I might be able to, but I'm not sure if I can say the same for the rest of France."  Camille pulled Maximilien into a hug. "My god I've missed you. I'll see you soon, alright?" Tears streamed from Maximilien's eyes as he clung to his friend. After a short while, he nodded. "Be brave Maxime," Camille said as the dream faded away. "Be brave for me."