The Dark of Ages Past-An Enjolras Fanfiction

Chapter 9 How can I Live when We are Parted?

"Silence makes the real conversations between friends. Not the saying, but the never needing to say that counts."

                                                                                                      ~Margaret Lee Punbeck

Chapter 9 How can I Live when We are Parted?

Gavroche and I eat quickly, not in the mood for conversation. The food is good. I find myself regretting that Lissette and I never came in to eat, though I loved our days on the roof. Then again, I regret a lot of things about Her.

The café is called the Musain. I like the name. It is a bit out of the way, in a poorer part of town that I rarely come to with anyone bit Her, but I don't mind; I don't want to run into anyone I know.

We finish our food and I pay the old man at the counter. I hand him.a large bill. "Keep the change."

"Are you sure, Monsieur?" the man asks.

I smile softly at him. "Take care of yourself." I say as I lead Gavroche out.

As we walk through the streets, Gavroche takes my hand. I squeeze his small fingers.

"What do we do now, Enjolras?" he asks.

I look down at the boy. I can feel the walls in my mind holding my grief back crumbling slowly. I need time alone to think, to find a way to function in this world that has been drained of color, of purpose. I sigh. "I don't know, Gavroche. I--" mu voice breaks. "I need some time to think." I run my hand through my hair.

"You should go home, Monsieur. You look exhausted." Gavroche offers.

"I cant just leave you--"

"I'll be fine." Gavroche drops my hand. "Besides, I should go find Couferyac; he'll be worried about me. About you, too." Gavroche searches my face. "What do you want me to tell him?"

I close my eyes. "Don't...don't tell him--don't tell anyone about...Her." I stutter, unable to force myself to say Her name. I am dreading going home; I know Belle will be worried, will want to know where I've been, but I just cant talk about it. Not even to her.

"It's okay, Monsieur, I'll think of something." Gavroche assures me.

I give him a half-smile, grateful for the street urchin's understandding. "Thank you, Gavroche." I pat his head quickly before turning to go. I run all of the way home, fighting tears the whole way.

****************

When I reach my apartment I lock myself in my room, thankful that Belle is out--probably looking for me. I half expected Combeferre or one of the others to be waiting for me there, but it is empty. They must be in class.

I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling, take a deep breath and, for the first time since last night, I let myself feel. My walls crumble and a wave of pain engulfs me. I feel like part of me, the most essential part, the part that allows life to exist in my body, has been ripped out of me. Hot tears flow in streams down my cheeks and my eyes grow raw. I sob and gasp and cough for what feels like hours. I am too full of pain to think, to form a single coherent word in my mind. I just sob, hoping that if I shed enough salt water from my body, somehow the pain will lessen. It doesn't.

 At some point I must fall asleep because I come to with a start. As I sit up I realize that I didn't wake up at all, I am still dreaming, because Lissette stands before me, her green eyes sad. "Lisse?" I ask. My voice is hoarse. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

She nods. "Yes. I'm sorry, France."

"For what? It's my fault you're gone." another sob rises in my throat. "You're gone and I don't know what to do."

"Shh, shh France." Lissette wraps her arms around me. I sink into the touch, trying to memorize every second, even if it isn't real. "Shh, it's okay." she whispers, rubbing my back as I sob into her shoulder.

I shake my head. "How can you say that?" I ask angrily. I don't want to be angry with her. "What am I supposed to do? I don't know what to do, Lisse. What am I supposed to do?!" I pull back to look at her, to study her face and try to find some answers there.

Lissette just smiles, cupping my cheek in her hand. "Be happy, France. You're supposed to be happy and live." Suddenly her eyes blow wide with shock and pain and a dark red stain appears on her dress, spreading from a ragged hole in her stomach.

"No! Lissette, please don't go!" I try to hold on, but my hands slip through her as she fades away.

I sit bolt upright, gasping. Hot tears spring from my eyes. A sob breaks from my throat as I replay my dream over and over, Lissette's horrified expression etched in my mind.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the dream. Enough. I command myself. No more. You will not cry again. Slowly the tears stop coming. i can breathe again.

I imaginee searching through all of my memories, pulling out anything that has to do with Her. I gather them all together and live in them all at once. I see a thousand dazzling smiles, hear a million laughs. I run through the streets behind Her and marvel at the gold of her ringlets. Her eyes take my breath away from every angle. I live it all except for my most reecent memories--Her death and my dream--Those I bury in the deepest hole I can find. Then, one by one, I place the rest of my memoreies in that hole, too. I can't think of Her without breaking and I will not break again.

I mentally examine myself. With those memories burried I feel like an empty shell, and the pain isn't all gone, but I can breathe, can think, can--in time, anyway--be part of society again.

I sit up and look around my room. My eyes fall on a small black box resting on my dresser. A sharp pain stabs my chest. I walk to the dresser and pick up the box that holds the button She gave me. i take it out, intending to dispose of the reminder, but my eyes fall on the hyacinth and I cannot bar to let this last piece of Her go. This I can keep.I decide. I put it in my pocket, resolving to sew it onto my coat later.

I hear footsteps running up the steps outside and I know that it is Combeferre. I glance at myself in the small mirror on my wall and realize that I am still wearing my bloody, dirty clothes. I quickly strip them off and put on a clean white shirt and black pants, not bothering with a waistcoat. I examine myself in the mirror again. I look different; older, harder. I know Combeferre will be able to tell, but it is the best I can do.

I hear knocking on my door. "Enjolras?" Combeferre calls. "Enjolras, I know you're in there!"

I sigh; I don't want to do this, but I know Combeferre won't go away until I talk to him, so I straighten my shoulders and walk to the door. "Alright, alright; I'm coming, Combeferre." I open the door.

Combeferre looks relieved to see me. "Enjolras! Where have you been?" he storms inside. "You've been missing for two days! We've been loking everywhere!" he studies my face. "What's wrong? Is Belle--?"

"She's fine." I sigh. I knew he would ask, but still I wasn't sure how much i was going to tell him. How much I could tell him. "Combeferre, I..." I stop, my voice cracking. My eyes sting again, but I push the tears down.

Combeferre sees them anyway. As worry crosses my best friend's face I realize that I have to tell him, because I cannot face this alone and I cannot always lean on Gavroche. But I cannot bear to say the words. I will not say Her name, will not bring up the memories that I have just worked so hard to bury.

Finally I choke out, with a tight throat and stinging eyes, "She's dead, Combeferre." A sob rises in my throat. "I love her and she's dead."

Combeferre does not ask for details, just wraps his arms around me. "Shh." he whispers, patting my back gently.

I am taller than him; my head rests on his shoulder as I sob into his coat, soaking the brown cloth. "She's gone. She's gone." I sob over and over. Combeferre doesn't say a word, just lets me cry. And here I thought I was done. I wonder if I'll ever really be done.

Finally i am able to stop. I straighten and look down at the table, embarassed. "I'm sorry--"

"You don't have to apologize, Enjolras." Combeferre interrupts me. "And you don't have to explain."

"Thank you." i say giving him a half smile.

"That's what friends are for."