Disclaimer: I own Adaline, Marié, Árielle, Alec Javert, and Adaline and Enjolras's kids if they have any.

June 6th, 1832

Adaline POV:

I see my husband fall from the roof, black boot catching on the window. I scream in grief as I watch him dangle helplessly in the air. I whip around and stare directly into Javert's eyes.

"And now you're a widow. You are coming with me," he says as his hand tightly encircles my wrist, almost cutting off my circulation. I dig my feet into the floor, vainly attempting to stay here and not follow Javert. I see Grantaire's black, messy curls stumbling through the door.

"Leave her alone," he says, seemingly sober even though I know he's not.

"Where's Gavroche?" I hiss out of the corner of my mouth as he pulls my wrist out of Javert's grasp.

"I told him to stay where he is," Grantaire responds softly as he stands in front of me, protecting me from the soldiers and their guns. He talks louder. "Take me if you must, but let her be." I gasp.

"No, Grantaire, no! Don't sacrifice yourself for me," I plead, trying to convince him to change his mind. He shakes his head, resolute in his decision. Javert shrugs.

"Well, you heard him men! Shoot this traitor where he stands!!" I stand there helpless as they take aim, eight bullets piercing into Grantaire and killing him instantly. I scream once more and sink to my knees next to Grantaire's dead corpse. I find a gun in his hand and I take it discreetly and hide it behind my back. I stare determinedly into the eyes of the soldiers, showing no fear.

Enjolras POV:

My head pounds as if a horse carriage ran over it once, backed up and ran it over again, and then ran it over a third time. Yeah, it hurts badly. I blink open my eyes and the light shines into them, blinding me for a split second. I see Gavroche huddling near the door of the Café and picking through the dead bodies to find guns, ammunition, and anything else he needs. I close my eyes once more, trying to block out the images of my friends laying dead on the streets, the friends that I led into battle dead because of me. I hear Gavroche's voice cut into my memory of Joly, Combeferre, and Jehan dropping like dead weight through the floor.

"Oi, there's no time for napping; we're in the middle of the Revolution if you can't tell, and you're supposed to be leading it!!" he shouts up at me, sass dripping from his every word (A/N: This quote is my brother's idea).

I jerk my eyes open again, blue meeting blue. I wiggle around in the flag, head pierced with a new agony every single millimetre I move. I hear the muffled crash sound my gun makes as it drops down into the haystack conveniently under me. "Gavroche, can you get me down from here?" He starts to climb the hay, sinking a little with every step. I shift so that my pocketknife can be grabbed from the pocket of my red jacket. He grabs it and begins sawing at the red flag holding me up. I try to remove my boot so that I don't break my ankle when the flag breaks. I cringe as I hear the rip of the fabric as it tears. This is the flag of the rebellion, and it's currently being wreaked beyond repair. I drop into the hay headfirst, some hay somehow getting up my nose and making me sneeze. He grabs my gun and looks around for a second. He gasps and points the gun at a soldier. Without having any prior training, he fires two shots. The first one hits the soldier and dropping him and the second one hitting another soldier behind the first one in the head. I blink twice, shocked at Gavroche's skill.

"Can I keep this?" he asks. Adaline's going to kill me.

"Sure. I'll find another one (A/N: This dialogue is my brother's idea). Then, I hear the burst of gunshots coming from above us. I look up slowly and tear through the streets towards the Café Musain's entrance, stopping for a second to take a gun, cleaning it and cocking it before I ascend the stairs that I tried to chop down not two hours ago. I pull the door open quietly and see Adaline facing the eight soldiers and Javert, dark brown hair cascading down her back and face set in a glare. I see Grantaire crumpled on the ground, dead, in front of mon ange (A/N: mon ange= my angel). Adaline's eyes widen imperceptibly as Gavroche and I slowly file into the room, the soldiers apparently being as oblivious as our own Marius Pontmercy. I point my gun at the nearest soldier, Gavroche following my example. I fire three shots, one after the other. Every single one hits their mark. Gavroche fires three as well, but not as fast as I do. I mean, he's only twelve. Adaline somehow has a gun and shoots the last soldier that isn't Javert. Javert stands in the middle of the three of us, not showing any fear.

"Enjolras!" Adaline cries in relief as she runs towards me. Keeping a watchful eye on Javert, I pull her in for a hug, clutching her close to me as reassurance that she actually is alive.

"I'm here," I soothe gently. My blue eyes suddenly pierce into Javert, glaring furiously at him. "Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you where you stand," I say menacingly.

"Because I have a gun pointed right at the little boy's head. Shoot me and I shoot him and we both die." Adaline stiffens and turns around, glaring.

"You dare to point a lethal weapon at a child? And you wonder why I'd never marry you," Adaline says darkly as she points her gun at Javert, hands shaking. I jerk my head to the table in the meeting room where we are, indicating to Gavroche that he should hide behind it. Looking at Javert, he ducks under the table and stays there. Javert looks around for the boy and his eyes find the table. He pulls the tablecloth up and there is Gavroche, huddled underneath the table. Adaline aims her gun at him and pulls the trigger, bullet piercing straight into the man's head. He collapses and we breathe a collective sigh of relief. Adaline then lurches forward, puking her guts up once more. I pull her hair back gently as she retches.

"We need to get you to a doctor," I say gently as Gavroche nervously walks up.

"Ada-Mom?" he says the last part softly, almost as if he was nervous Adaline wouldn't like to be called his mom.

"You can call me Mom, 'Roche," Adaline says soothingly.

"Are you okay?" Gavroche whispers.

"I'm pretty sure I am, yes." Adaline stands up once again, not vomiting anymore.

"We need to get out of here quickly," I say urgently. "Gavroche, I think it's easier if one of us carries you."

"Where's Árielle?" Gavroche questions, panicking. I hear a faint whisper coming from underneath the red flag draped on the floor. I run over and pull the flag away, seeing Ári huddled on the floor underneath it.

"She's here," I call to Gavroche, who runs over and wraps Árielle in a huge hug. "How'd you get here?" I ask.

"Grantaire found me and brought me up here before the barricade got overrun. He told me to stay under this flag and not make a sound. Where is he?" Adaline shivers and stands in front of Grantaire's body so that Árielle doesn't see him.

"Gavroche, do you want Enjolras or I to carry you?" Adaline asks.

"You," Gavroche says to Adaline, who picks him up gently as to not hurt his shoulder. I pick Árielle up and we make our way out of the Café, hiding behind walls to get out of the streets. We run until we find our house and open the door to it, locking the door and pushing whatever furniture we could to barricade the door. Gavroche and Árielle are set down.

"We're going to have to go to see if someone survived," Adaline whispers to me as to not scare the two children currently cuddling together to stay warm.

"I'll go." Then, a knock sounds on the door as we face it, the gun that is still in my hand pointed at the wood, ready to shoot. Adaline and I slowly approach the door, shouting, "Who is it?"

"My name's Cosette!!" the woman shouts through the door, voice cracking in fear. "I'm Marius's girlfriend!!"

"How did you get this address?" I demand answers.

"Marius is alive; he's with my papa! Delusional, he was whispering an address, and here I am. Are you Enjolras and Adaline?" Adaline nods her head at me and we clear the furniture away from the door. I yank the door open and pull the blonde girl into our house.

"Yes, we are. We need help and medical attention," I say, Adaline checking on the children.

Adaline's POV:

I rest my hand on Gavroche's forehead, checking for a fever. His skin feels cool to the touch, not clammy or hot. I let out a breath of relief and immediately focus my attention on Árielle. She doesn't seem to have any bullet wounds or any injury, but she is staring off into space with a blank look in her eyes. I turn to check on Enjolras and see Cosette there. "Please, the little boy got shot not three hours ago and he needs help!" I plead the woman to bring us to her papa. I stand up and let Cosette take my place next to the children. I walk over to Enjolras and lift his chin, examining his face for wounds. His light blue eyes gaze into my hazel, comforting me. His forehead is cut, blood mixing through the blonde curls matted down. Looking around quickly, I find a napkin left out from dinner two nights ago and press it to his cut. The white quickly turns red with blood, the napkin becoming more and more unuseful as the seconds tick by. I remove the napkin and check on his gash, the blood flow slowing down. I set the napkin down and fall into Enjolras's arms, sobbing and gripping onto his jacket for dear life. He pulls me closer to him as we rock back and forth. His lips brush my hair and I feel water dripping onto my head. I pull away and look up, seeing tears falling down Enjolras's face. Looking at Cosette, who's checking Árielle and Gavroche's pulse, I softly lead Enjolras upstairs to our bed and sit on it with him after closing the door. "Talk to me," I murmur as I gently wrap my arms around him.

"I led everyone into a massacre," he whispers, voice cracking. "This is all my fault."

"No, don't blame yourself. Everyone wanted a new France, a better France. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault-actually, it's the French soldiers' faults."

"'Ferre, I led Ferre up to the Café like I led you, led Jehan and Joly as well. I came up with the plan for every barricade, and where are they now? The barricades are GONE!" he shouts the last word, but I'm not frightened. He needs to let his anger out in a way that doesn't hurt anyone. He buries his face in his hands; the only sounds heard are his sobs. I rest my hand on his shoulder, trying to be there for him in ways that words fail. He turns to me and wraps his arms around me, burying his head once more into my sheet of brown hair. I hold my husband as he cries, like he's done to me when I cry. I whisper words of love into his ear as we sit there for a while. He pulls away once he's done crying, blue eyes red-rimmed from the tears. Our fingers interlock and we just sit there, comforted by each other's presence.

"We need to pack and get ready to go," I softly say, standing up from the bed and grabbing the two suitcases resting by the door. I hold Enjolras's face in my hands and kiss his forehead. I open the closet and start to fold Enjolras's red jackets, white shirts, black pants, and black boots, putting them on one side of a suitcase. I fold my dresses up too, taking only a few corsets because I hate those torture devices. He takes the single boot he has on off and changes his shoes so that he's not barefoot on only one foot. We creep into Gavroche's room and pack all of his clothes, putting them in the second suitcase. Enjolras splashes some water on his face so it doesn't look like he's just been crying, still a little averse to showing emotion. We walk down the stairs and see the children standing up next to Cosette, ready to go. "How did you get here?" I ask Cosette, who shifts awkwardly from foot to foot.

"I took a carriage. I got a big one so that the five of us can fit in it easily." I look at Enjolras, who hates the bourgeois and by extension their carriages. I give him a look to behave himself and grab onto Gavroche's hand. Enjolras takes Árielle's hand and we walk outside, Enjolras nearly dragging Ári out the door. She's in shock; she has to be. I get in the carriage first, Gavroche coming in right after me. Ári is lifted up into the carriage by Enjolras, who follows her right after. Cosette gets in last, closing the door behind her. Enjolras sits next to me, looking steadfastly out the window. Gavroche curls up in a ball, head on my lap. Árielle does the same thing to Cosette, who is a little shocked at the little girl's trust in her. I run my hand through 'Roche's sandy blonde hair, thinking about Courf and his last wish for the boy currently in my arms now. I sing a lullaby to the little boy, softly and quietly lulling him to sleep.

"There is a castle on a cloud
I like to go there in my sleep
Aren't any floors for me to sweep
Not in my castle on a cloudThere is a lady all in white
Holds me and sings a lullaby
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch
She says 'Gavroche, I love you very much'
I know a place where no ones lost
I know a place where no one cries
Crying at all is not allowed
Not in my castle on a cloud."

I gently brush his hair out of his face, his eyes closed and sleeping. I see Enjolras looking at me as I tend to Gavroche. "What?" I whisper to him. Enjolras pulls me closer to him and kisses my cheek.

"You'd make a good mother," he says softly, lips brushing my ear as he speaks. "I love you, so, so much."

"I love you too," I quietly murmur. I realize how awkward Cosette must feel and turn to her. "Cosette, thank you so much for getting us out of Paris for a while. The soldiers are probably already after us."

"It was no trouble," she says. "I've noticed that you and..." here she looks at Enjolras, asking silently his name.

"Enjolras," my husband answers curtly.

"Enjolras are very close. Are you courting or engaged?"

I smile. "Wrong, but we are married. For one, whole, wonderful month." Enjolras smiles down at me from where he is seated in the carriage, against the wall.

"Oh!" Enjolras exclaims, slapping himself on the head.

"What is it?" I ask, confused about what has him in such a tizzy.

"It's your birthday today! Happy birthday, mon amour," he says softly. My eyes open wide. I can't believe I forgot about my birthday! I'm 26 now, the same age as Enjolras. I kiss his cheek and then an idea pops into my head.

"Do you think that Gavroche would like it if we adopted him?" I question Enjolras, smile growing wider every second that I think about it. Enjolras nods his head immediately, barely even questioning it.

"He called you 'mom' twice today." I look up at him, confused. I only remember the once in the top of the Café-oh no. I can't think of that. Tears well up in my eyes as I think of how distraught Gavroche was after Courf's death. I bite my lower lip and focus on breathing in and out, forcing the tears away. I blink the remainder of the salty tears off of my eyelashes and look down at Gavroche, whose sleeping face shows no emotion except for a small, peaceful smile curling around his face. I look over at Árielle, who is also asleep, head on Cosette's lap. I rest my head on Enjolras's shoulder and drift off to sleep, secure in his arms and hand resting on Gavroche's back, protecting him even in sleep.

Author's Note: Wow, this was a long chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed!! I feel like Enjolras would be struggling with PTSD if he did survive, so that explains his emotions being out of control. I don't know when the next chapter will come out, but stay tuned! Vive la France!!

                 -GryffindorPadmeEnjolras