The City That We Loved

The Road Not Taken

A/N: A little sad at the beginning but it gets happier...and then sad again...Just thought people could use some smiles around exam time. I know I certainly need some. And this was getting really dark and heavy so I guess some comic relief is always good. Enjoy!! :)

Enjolras couldn't sleep. Of course he couldn't. He rolled over and reached for the bottle of pills and panicked when he found them empty. He sat up in bed and looked around the room to see if this was the old bottle. The actual old bottle was in the trash can beside the desk. His heart beat faster than he would've ever expected it to.

He got out of bed and tossed the pill bottle in trash can. He changed into sweats and his hoodie, throwing his converse on somewhere in between those two. He looked at the time before leaving his room, 3:34 in the morning. There was no way Joly would be awake. So he'd have to find painkillers on his own. He went down the stairs to the front door.

He had a mini heartattack when he saw the light on downstairs in the living room. Combeferre was laying on the couch, the Fault in Our Stars open on his stomach. Enjolras let out a sigh of relief when he heard his friend snoring. He grabbed a blanket off of the chair, moved the book to the side table, and covered his friend with the blanket. He went to the front table and picked up his wallet. It was empty. He looked at Combeferre, feeling a little guilty about what he was about to do. He reached into Combeferre's coat pocket--which hung on the coat rack--and pulled out his best friend's wallet. He turned off the light and then left the safe house.

Something he was not supposed to do.

They had made a rule at the beginning of the month that everyone had to go in a group of three to leave the house, just in case they ran into the law. Enjolras threw the hood up of his jacket as a cool wind went by. The house was in the centre of Rouen so the streets were lit with the city's lights. They weren't Paris' glittering lights but they were good enough for now.

Enjolras missed being home in Paris but he had made a decision to kill Duval and this was the consequences. But he would find a way to someday return to Paris and then overthrow the new king and create the republic France deserved.

Enjolras found himself in the troubled parts of the city. He avoided the seductive looks of prostitutes or the strange looks of the homeless. He came for one thing and one thing only. He approached a man who stood in the opening of an alley, smoking a cigarette.

"Um...do you have...uh, drugs?" Enjolras asked. The man laughed and blew smoke out of his mouth. He started to walk away. "I'm serious." He could feel his hands shaking in his pockets and the creeping crawly feeling of anxiety. He needed those drugs. "I have money. Please." The man finally turned around.

"First of all, blondie, you can't just walk up to someone and ask them for drugs," the man said. "It doesn't work that way but I can tell you're new at this. What do you want?"

"Painkillers," Enjolras replied.

"Pills, huh?" the dealer said. "How much?"

"I don't know," Enjolras said. "Enough." The dealer laughed again.

"I'll give you 20mg of the stuff," the dealer said. "Is that enough for you?" Enjolras shrugged. "That'll be twenty euros for you, since I like you." Enjolras pulled a twenty from his wallet--sorry, Combeferre's wallet and handed it over to the dealer. The dealer handed him the bottle and walked away. Enjolras stuffed the pills into his pocket and then walked back down the street.

He had to take the long way around when he saw police coming from the other direction. By the time he got back home, day had started to break. He went into the house and locked the door behind him. Combeferre was no longer on the couch.