A/n: This was suggested to me by my friend _no_clue when we both realised how sad it would be. I tried my best with it, but it's probably not the best...
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Grantaire knew the revolution was a lost cause. Right from the very beginning. He knew they would die, fall before the National Guard. But who was he to say anything? He was no one. Just another face in the revolution. Another casualty of the cause.
If he did not believe, why was he there? True he did not believe in the revolution. But he believed in one man, Enjolras. His Apollo. The guiding light of the revolution. The leader. Grantaire loved Enjolras, but was never loved in return. He was there through it all, the funeral, the rising of the barricade. Then his own death.
The barricades had risen. A spy had been sent to find the plans of the National Guard. The spy returned, only to betray them. An inspector. The police. Then they heard the marching. The first battle broke out, gunfire and death. Minimal casualties on the revolutionaries side, for now.
Grantaire was fighting off one member of the National Guard when he caught sight of another pointing his gun directly at Enjolras. Enjolras hadn't noticed and Grantaire knew he must act. His Apollo couldn't die. Not now. He had to win. Within an instant, Grantaire had moved and swung the barrel of the soldiers gun around to his own chest, just as the gun went off.
Grantaire's world exploded with pain as he slid down the barricade. Only one thought was replaying in his head. Apollo was safe, and alive. His eyes started swimming in and out of focus, the pain being the only real thing right now. He became vaguely aware of a figure crouching down next to him, a person...Apollo!
Enjolras had not been aware of the danger he was in until he saw another person on the barricade topple, after taking a shot clearly meant for himself. He killed the soldier in an instant and turned to go down the barricade. The man that had saved him was curled up in a ball, leaning against the barricade.
Upon reaching him, Enjolras crouched down next to him. The man turned his head towards him and..."G-grantaire...." The drunk, the cynic. Grantaire who made remarks about every belief Enjolras ever had. Enjolras tried to think quickly and sat down next to Grantaire, taking his hand in some form of reassurance.
"Grantaire, everything is going to be ok." Enjolras was trying to reassure himself more than anyone, but one look from Joly told him that nothing would be ok. Enjolras felt Grantaire gently squeeze his hand, and he turned his attention back to the dying man.
Grantaire knew he was going to die. But he did not want his Apollo to mourn him. Using all the strength he had left, he began to comfort Enjolras.
"Don't you fret, M'sieur Apollo
I don't feel any pain (LIES!!)
A little fall of rain
Can hardly hurt me now
You're here, that's all I need to know
And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
And rain will make the flowers grow."
Enjolras held onto Grantaire's hand tighter, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
"But you will live, now R - dear God above
If I could close your wounds with words of love"
"Just hold me now, and let it be
Shelter me, comfort me
So don't you fret, M'sieur Apollo
I don't feel any pain
A little fall of rain
Can hardly hurt me now"
"I'm here"
"That's all I need to know
And you will keep me safe/And I will stay with you
'Til you are sleeping/And you will keep me close
And rain/And rain
Will make the flowers/Will make the flowers grow"
Grantaire smiled at his Apollo one last time, and in his last breath "I do believe I was a little bit in love with you M'sieur" then expired.
Enjolras sat frozen, his marble facade shattering into a million pieces. Tears ran freely down his face as his friends took Grantaire's body, to lay it in the café. He had been loved by someone, and now that someone was gone. Grantaire was right all along. The revolution was a lost cause, especially without a leader...
