A Franc or Two - Les Misérables [IN EDITING]

Fire - Chapter 46

For the weeks leading up to his death, you, Enjolras, and Combeferre worked tirelessly to save him...

But despite your efforts, nothing worked.

Over that span of time, the only news you had received was that he would no longer be hung— rather, sentenced to a more "justifying" death by being shot by the national guardsmen.

You were granted one visit to the prison. Enjolras had gone through all the trouble to keep watch for you. However, by the time you had arrived, his cell mate (who turned out to be the boy Clement-Hadrian. He talked with you for a bit, and it turned out that his sister had passed away, and that he had purposely stolen just to be in there) gave you the news that he had been awaiting death as you spoke.

"I'm horribly sorry," Clement-Hadrian said, swatting a fly away from his face. He let out a cough, that rattled his entire body. "I know I haven't known him as long, but he was a... Monsieur Prouvaire really was wonderful."

Clenching your jaw to literally bite back the tears, you nodded. Clement was quick to notice.

"He isn't afraid to die, Mademoiselle," he said. "He wanted anyone who came to visit to know that..."

You felt as if a hand was squeezing your heart.

"Sounds... poetic, I suppose," you said, forcing a soft chuckle.

Clement-Hadrian's large eyes landed on you, and you were quick to realize how sad he, too, was...

After all, he had spend quite a few weeks with him.

"I think we also talked about you a little bit," he continued. "He said that he wished that he had talked to you more."

"Did he?" you asked, lips prickling into a frown.

"Yeah," Clement said. "He really was kind..."

"That he was..."

You drew in a deep breath.

"Merci, Clement."

Just as you said that, you heard some commotion coming from down the hall, and you took that as your cue- especially when you were quickly whisked away by Enjolras.

"I heard the boy, [Y/N]," he said. "I think I heard Jehan shouting, too- come hurry. Perhaps we'll be able to get to him in time..."

And, sure enough, as you traveled up the winding staircases, the distant voice of Jehan grew louder, and Enjolras soon led you to the place where your beloved friend would die.

Stepping outside with Enjolras, you noticed that there was an ocean of people with their backs to you— though, as you shuffled forward, you realized that there were all crowded to see what happened with Jehan. Though you didn't know it yet, these were all people whom he had interacted with— students, librarians, priests— and, though not all of them were involved in the revolution, not one of them saw guilt in the man.

"...the king hopes this will be a sign to the treasonous of France," said a man from far away. Both you and Enjolras felt yourselves hesitating to move forward.

Enjolras rested his hand on the small of your back, hovering there gently before casting a glance at you. He wouldn't continue forward unless you were ready to...

As you finally did wander forward, just a glimpse of Jehan made you gulp and avert your gaze.

Your eyes were quick to burn. Though you hadn't had much time to process that Jehan was going to die, something told you that you were certainly going to cry— but you hadn't expected your grief to be that overwhelming.