Something missing, Something changed

Chapter 2

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Gavroche felt her forehead. She was burning up and moaning in her sleep.

"I'll be back." he whispered softly, and poked his head out of the alley they were living in. He saw a group of men, yelling and waving torches. He swallowed his sense of survival, ran towards a man on the edge, and began pulling on his sleeve, babbling rapidly. "Please sir you've got to help us she's sick and moaning and she won't wake up but we don't got anybody to help u" the man shoved him to the ground and growled like a feral dog.

"No one cares about your stupid friend, this is revolution! VIVE LA FRANCE!" Gavroche stared at him in horror, a tear of panic rolling down his face.

"Get up young one, I know how to help you." a man said kindly. Gavroche scrabbled up and looked at him pleadingly. "There is a man with a cart over there, see him?" He nodded fiercely."Go to him, tell him her symptoms, and give him this." the man shoved several sous into his hand. "Promise me one thing" the man begged, panic rising in his voice,"Get off the street. The last thing we need is for you to d" A gunshot rang out, and the kind man toppled over, blood seeping out of his neck and mouth. Gavroche froze in terror, staring at the soldier behind the body.

"Honoré?" the soldier asked in disbelief. Gavroche shook his head fiercely and ran to the vendor. As he crouched in the alley giving her the medicine, he listened to the shots and screams raging outside. The next day, the bodies were lined up. All twenty five revolutionaries had been shot in the back.

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Gavroche shot up, breathing heavily, and hit his head on the elephant.

"Oww!" he yelped. Rubbing his head sleepily, he stumbled down to the belly and glided through the motions of the danse de roseau. After running around Paris wreaking havoc for the morning, he returned to the elephant. When he saw R's purse, Gavroche was reminded of his offer. He was immediately conflicted. On one hand, survival was based on whether or not he trusted people. Volunteering a meeting is the beginning of trust. On the other hand, if there was going o be any kind of fight against the soldiers,  Gavroche was in. Eventually, his thirst for revenge won out and he went to join the Amis at the meeting. He did the same the next day, and the next, and the next. For two weeks he attended the meetings, and he quickly gained understanding of the group dynamics and favor with them. Julien Enjolras was the outspoken leader, whom Gavroche was pretty sure thought Patria was a real girl and was in love with her. Daniel Courfeyrac was the easygoing, fun one.R was… for lack of a better description, the resident drunkard. He was rather fun when not completely intoxicated. He seemed oddly familiar, except for the drinking habits. Louis Joly was a hypochondriac studying to be a doctor. Marius Pontmercy was the stiffest law student Gavroche had ever seen. He could be playful occasionally, or so he heard. Gavroche privately wondered why on earth he was studying law if he planned to help overthrow it. Raol Combferre was an absolute genius. Jehan Prouvaire, a soft-spoken artist and poet. Together, they made the Les Amis de la ABC. They planned the revolt in the back room of the Cafe Musain. Two weeks after Gavroche met Courf, he popped his head out of the elephant to see a caravan of carriages rolling through the square. They were having a tough time though, people pressed up against each carriage on all sides.

"Yes!" he crowed," performance time!" See, the poor people of Paris had an understanding. A game, of sorts. It was basically, "How badly can we freak out the rich people before they run away?" And since two years ago when his partner in crime scared the life out of a noblewoman, the two of them had a starring role. "C'mon boys!"he yelled, and the people parted for him. He ran through a gap in the caravan, and capered through a cafe, causing mayhem and stealing a tart. True to form, Francis, Jacques, and some other urchins follow close after. Yum. The streets began to sing as Gavroche launched himself towards the carriage in the lead.

Look down, and see, the beggars at your feet,

Look down, and show, some mercy if you can.

Look down, and see, the sweepings of the street,

Look down, look down, upon your fellow man. They shouted.Gavroche leaped onto the cart, grinning savagely, and popped open a window.

'Ow do you do my name's Gavroche,

These are my people, here's my patch.

Not much to look at, nothing posh,

Nothing that you'd call up to scratch.

This is my school, my high society,

Here in the slums of St. Michelle.

We live on crumbs of humble piety,

Tough on the teeth, but what the 'ell.

Think you're poor? Think you're free?

Follow me. FOLLOW ME! The cowering noble family, two kids and all, who winced as he cursed, began to scream and shout as he leaped into the carriage and climbed out the other side. A man caught him as he hit the ground, and Gavroche nodded his thanks  before running and jumping onto the very last cart, and singing once more,

There was a time we killed a king,

We tried to change the world to fast.

Now we have got another king,

He's no better than the last.

This is the land that fought for liberty,

Now when we fight we fight for bread.

That's the thing about equality,

Everyone's equal when they're dead.

Take your place, take your chance,

Vive la France, VIVE LA FRANCE! He hopped off the cart and listened to the frenzy he created, while tossing the nobleman's wallet up and down. It was enough to last for who knows how long.

"Gavroche?" a voice asked.