Les Couleurs du Monde (An Enjolras Les Misérables Fanfiction)

Chapter XVIII ~ The Final Battle

The sun now appeared above the rooftops of the city. The guns fired - BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The bombardment hit the barricade, rocking it. The cannon had been lined up with the gate and burst right through in the first hit.

Bullets flew, and every few moments another cannonball smashed into the piled debris.

Enjolras and the students threw themselves onto the barricades, firing at the attackers, handing their rifles down to others to be re-loaded, firing again. Valjean moved among them, tending to the wounded, lifting down the dead, regardless of his own safety.

Marius took a bullet, and fell. Valjean rushed towards him-

The latest cannonade suddenly burst a hole in the barricade and now the soldiers were storming through. The hard core of student fighters retreated, firing as they go, into the Café Musain.

Among the students was Enjolras, who rushed up to Elise. Elise looked worriedly at him when he randomly pulled her into a deep kiss.

"I love you so much, Elise. Please remember." he said in a confident voice.

"Enjolras, what-" Elise murmured, nervously locking eyes with him. Around them they hear gunshots and explosions.

Enjolras' strong voice cracked, "Say you love me one more time."

"We're not going to die. Enjolras, please!" Elise cried her eyes tearing up. It was then that reality hit her. They were about to die.

"Say it," he said hurriedly, glancing around.

"I- I love you, Enjolras." Elise sobbed. Enjolras pulled her in to one last kiss. The world around them seemed to have slowed down as he did so. The last play of passion seemed to have dissipated when he pulled away and ran upstairs. So many things were to be left untold, so many loving words would remain unspoken. Elise's world seemed to have ended there. "Enjolras, no! Enjolras!!!"

Students and soldiers fought in the café. Students driving back the pursuing soldiers hacked away at the staircase, smashing it to fragments - the soldiers below fired up at them - students fell, their bodies caught on the jagged remnants of the stairs. The beloved Friends of the ABC- Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Joly, and Jehan were now dead.

A soldier spotted Elise in the corner of the Musain. She had collapsed there after she had realized that it was the end. By all means, she wanted to end it then and there but she knew that it wasn't the right thing to do. The soldier approached her and aimed at her. His eyes suddenly widened as he recognized the girl. "Elise?" murmured the young man.

Tears streamed down Elise's face as she looked up at the man. It was her cousin.

The man sighed and quite reluctantly resumed aiming. "Have you got any last words, Elise?"

Elise looked at him in despair, a shattered look in her eyes. "If you kill me, don't do it with a gun."

The young man nodded and, raising his musket up high, he brought it slamming down onto Elise's head. The young woman crashed down onto the floor.

The students' ammunition had run out, and they were now hurling sticks and bottles- but the soldiers have found a way to clamber up to the second floor, shooting as they came, and one by one the students fell.

The soldiers broke through to the upper room, to find there was only Enjolras still alive. He stoond confidently by the window, knowing he will die now, proud and unafraid. He had accepted his death. Seeing him, the soldiers hesitated. The sudden silence woke Grantaire, who was dead drunk and slumped over a table, from his drunken slumber.

"Long live the republic!" exclaimed Grantaire.

He saw Enjolras with the muskets raised against him. Grantaire went and joined him. Enjolras smiled, and raised his now-ragged red flag. It was time. Memories flooded Enjolras' mind: memories of Elise laughing with him, memories of Elise and Gavroche, even memories of his consummation with Elise. Altogether, envisioned the life he could have had with her if they hadn't failed, how happy they'd be and how freedom would grant them peace. A smile appeared on Enjolras' lips.

The rifles blazed. Grantaire dropped back to the ground.

Enjolras fell backwards out of the window with eight bullet holes in his chest, until he hung upside down, the red flag still in his hands, which streamed like blood down the wall. His lips were stil curved in an everlasting, peaceful smile.

The street littered with corpses and the remains of the barricade. Soldiers were scouring the rubble for any last pockets of resistance.

Javert walked through the destruction, grimly observing the remains. He seemed to have no reaction to seeing his daughter on the floor with her head bleeding. But the Inspector did indeed resent it; he now lost the last human being he had ever had to call family.