Éponine Thénardier is secretly a badass (alittlefall) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-07-04 15:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !trigger warning, azelma thenardier, bahorel, courfeyrac, enjolras, eponine thenardier, gavroche thenardier, scootaloo |
"Little people know.... When little people fight.."
Who: Éponine, Azelma and Gavroche Thénardier, Scoot, Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Bahorel
What: Gavroche gets his death memory. It doesn't end well.
When: 4th July
Where: A beach
Rating: R because of the general unpleasantness and the blood and the swears. TW for references to the Thénardiers' somewhat terrible family situation, medical situations and fireworks setting off certain French people into slipping.
Status: Complete, with two more parts to follow!
The fourth had always been a day they had never been able to have fun on. Full of patriotic pervs who wanted to take advantage of ‘freedom’ by shagging on discount the poor Thénardier three. But today was not like that. They were together and free and it was going to be fun. Azelma, Gavroche and their sister had met up with Courf, Bahorel, and Enj and had been just walking the beach collecting shells and tiny objects people dropped of little value.
They’d had plenty to eat, drink, Azelma seemed to have more energy than usual. Scoot met up with them after a little while as the sun started to go down, him making sure the boys were well with Haruka and Michiru. Instructing they could have their own ‘fireworks’ after the kids went to bed. When he got up he kissed Éponine softly and gave everyone else a hug before grabbing a drink himself.
As the sun drew further down on the horizon the group prepared to watch the fireworks. None were set off yet but Scoot was making sure that the more sensitive of them were kept close in case. Gav seemed fine enough.
Gavroche was far from fine. He’d not felt well at all most of the day, blaming the nerves of excitement and the fireworks. He took a sip of his Pepsi and stood up closer to a larger group of men and woman waiting to watch in a good spot as well. They’d scoped out the best spot on the sand after all. He watched as Azelma just laid back and poked at her stomach, smirking at how cute she was being before his shoulders tensed a few times.
It was so, so strange, to be free on today of all days. This had to be the first year since... well, since the three of them were incredibly young that they’d had the opportunity to just sit back and enjoy themselves.
True, Éponine did worry somewhat about how fireworks might affect some of them, but she could push that thought aside. For now. The overprotective sister in her made her notice what was going on with Gavroche... and she had to ask. “You okay, baby brother?”
Courfeyrac was armed with valium in case this became a thing. He desperately didn’t want to have to use it, but he had it in his shirt pocket if it became necessary. He frowned a little, keeping an eye on Gavroche as he and Eponine talked for that moment there, and stepped forward himself, gesturing that Enjolras and Bahorel should stay back for now. He didn’t say anything yet, but wanted to be closer in case there WAS some kind of problem going on.
“I don’t know if I like this.” Enjolras was whispering to Bahorel. “Not being out with friends. I get that, honestly but...if this makes me...if HE comes back out. Well. We’re gonna have a full scale freak out on our hands with Courf already, aren’t we? I can’t say the other me is gonna be too nice to him. Or to Gavroche for that matter. It’s...complicated with him.”
“Have a beer, Relax.” Bahorel suggested. Nobody was getting actively drunk but one to relax Enjolras was NOT something that was going to throw things off too badly, was it? He didn’t think so anyway, and offered him a guinness from the six pack he’d dragged along.
“Please.” Enjolras waved it off. “Every time I drink with you people, things happen.” All two times now.
“I’m... Fine.” He lied, his siblings and the others didn’t need to be brought down with anything wrong with him. Not today of all days. He just moved a little further away and dropped down to pick up a few sand dollars and rocks for no real reason. They didn’t even interest him much.
Scoot arched an eyebrow, making close to watch him just in case. Anything that worried Éponine was enough to worry him. Even as he watched, Azelma pushed herself up from the chair she was in and held her lower back. “Are you sure, Gavroche? We ca-” Looked up at the first shooting of a firework only to look back down when she heard her brother singing
He surely was, and he had no idea why. “Little people know.... When little people fight..” Picked up a smoother stone and stumbled back just because he had no idea what the hell was going on in his mind. “We may look easy pickings, but we’ve got some bite.” Why was he singing again? Another firework went off and he felt a pain in his shoulder but pushed it off. “We’ll fight like twenty armies and we won’t give... up.”
Another firework and he let out a grunt and and looked up to the sky, swallowing hard. Azelma seeing this started to move close only to have Scoot take and sit her down, just for now. “So you better run for cover... When the pup grows.” Another grunt and he fell onto his back, the group of people barely taking notice at all.
“Gavroche!” Oh, she had been right to be paying such close attention, she knew it. Éponine was on her feet in barely no time, right over to his side. “Oh, don’t you dare, you little bastard...”
She’d almost died when she’d experienced her own death. She couldn’t let that happen to her baby brother. Not like this.
Enjolras was the one who recognized it first, not that he could do much more at the moment than just nudge Bahorel sharply. “This is...Courf is gonna. Go.” He hissed, shoving his larger friend forward and actually managing to move Bahorel a few inches. He held back himself, for a second, his brain mixing with the memories of what he’d been, of that song, and of being able to do nothing.
“COMBEFERRE!” He shouted, because that felt right to do in this moment, after Bahorel had been sent after Courfeyrac. “A RIFFLE. OPEN FIRE!” he ordered, snapping into barricade mode, his hair escaping from the tight braid he’d pulled it into earlier that day as he held out a hand, impatiently shouting at spectres of his friends. “ANY of you then. They’re going to shoot him no matter what we...”
“No!” Courfeyrac echoed, over Enjolras’s orders, shoving his way forward, even with Bahorel behind him, nearly reaching him. He was faster, and he had the fencer’s build and could slip through many things. Including his friend’s arms here and now. “Gavroche! Come back here!” He ran forward himself toward the fallen boy, his teeth pressed down HARD into his lower lip as he struggled to reach him first. “Gavroche no, You cannot be. Not here.”
This was a new world. Courfeyrac knew that much as he looked around, glanced at what he was wearing, what Gavroche and Eponine were wearing and it was a world where this need not happen. Not again. “We were not brought forward here for such.” he cried, falling to his knees in front of the boy now. “COMBEFERRE. JOLY. “
“What in the FUCK?” Bahorel had been dead before this moment, dead before any of them, so he had lost the horror of knowing what this moment was. Not that it was freaking him out any less but it was...different somehow. “I’M DIALING 911!” He shouted, not that it was likely to help his two friends calm down, but he knew an emergency when he saw it. “And I actually know CPR. Is he breathing?” he added, phone pressed to his ear as he made to join Courfeyrac.
Gav looked up to the sky, the shock of it muffling his hearing and vision. He saw the vague outline of Éponine, the muffled murmur of her words but nothing much. At least it didn’t hurt, right? Or rather he didn’t feel it. He struggled to try and push himself up, wondering if the tide had come up because his hands were wet.
Scoot could fuck off, he may be her sister’s lover but she was his sister and dammit she was going to him. “GAVROCHE!” She screamed loud enough for others to look around. Scoot did the only thing he could and that was spread his wings out to scare them back, hands shaking as he went back over. “Éponine, what is going on?!”
Coughing the teen slipped into the sand again and tipped his head back, finding it increasingly difficult to actually breathe. “‘Ponine...? Did we... move into the ocean?”
“Shh... it’s going to be okay, Gavroche...” Éponine didn’t know that for certain. She couldn’t say anything for certain when he was like this... “Try and focus on me... I need you to stay with me, baby brother. I can’t lose you...”
It’d destroy her on so many levels. She’d give her life to save him, without question. Just like she’d given her life to save Marius.
“We’ve gotta get him out of here.” Bahorel pointed out, relaying what he was being told on the phone. “An ambulance and crew can’t get down here but can possibly meet us somewhere close. How far ARE we from a hospital?” he asked no one in particular, hoping somebody would go ahead and google it.
“It was never to be like this again.” Courfeyrac pushed back some hair where it had fallen from his forehead, frowning at the shortness of it, which felt wrong in this world. Not that it was a concern just now, but the littlest details occured to you when things were going badly. “I will help you with him, Eponine if I am permitted?” He knew that they were brother and sister at least and he would not do anything without consulting her. “Enjolras. Spare me for the time that it will take to see him to some aid. Or part the crowds for me if you would be of help just now.”
“This is no barricade?” Enjolras asked, blinking rapidly as he realized that the gun he had requested was not coming and Combeferre was not here just now. A situation in which he had to rely on what he had just then. “California.” He remembered, frowning. “It ought to be...twenty minutes by the car? Can the boy last as long as that? Damn, where is Joly when he’s needed if not Combeferre? Courfeyrac, you’ve torn your lip open again. Keep calm. For him. Bahorel and I will get the crowds to clear.”
One massive former bouncer and one nineteenth century revolutionary to take care of that. Great.
Gavroche began to slow grow limp, mostly because it was getting harder to keep himself upright. Thank goodness for his sister. All the fuss about him just confused him before he looked down to see shirt soaked with blood. He weakly reached up to touch his chest and pull his hand away. “Is this... why you said... no to the military.” Grunted and tensed, talking and moving not being any help for the bleeding situation at all.
“I have my van, we can all fit. You get him up to the hill. I will meet you there!” In a flash Scoot was running up, carrying a screaming and kicking Azelma with him. There was no way she could have gotten up on her own, best to have her settled already.
“I feel... warm, ‘Ponine.” Broke into a weak smile to try and soften his sister’s warranted distress.
“You’re more than permitted, Courfeyrac...” Éponine could carry her brother easily enough, but she doubted she could handle him entirely on her own. Especially not whilst he was bleeding so badly, not whilst he was at so much risk. “Try not to talk, Gavroche... ain’t gonna help.”
Well. That wasn’t her normal accent.
Right then. Courfeyrac nodded his assent to that and stepped over to scoop Gavroche up, or as much as he could, considering. “Gavroche. We ARE going to need to move you now, and it is possibly going to hurt very much but then a doctor can see to you, all right? “ He very carefully looked over the wounds, trying to determine the best way to carry the boy and then just...went in as much as he knew HOW right now.
Up ahead of them, Enjolras was already shouting for the way to be cleared, switching between French and English with no real line of distinction and Courfeyrac caught the faint hint of some Occitan words thrown in there too, and Bahorel was bellowing at people to stand back and clearing the way where he had to. Well then.
At least this was slightly effective?
His body began to shake, breathing slowing even more. “‘Ponine... I’m tired... Am I allowed to... nap.” Even without his answer Gavroche went rather limp in his sister’s arms, head tipping back and the blood stained the sand even more. He was much younger in his dreams, weaker, it killed faster... Here he was just slowly bleeding out.
Scoot was ahead with the side doors open and waiting. To fuck with the interior of the car.
Oh, this just wasn’t fair in the slightest. Gavroche didn’t deserve the fate that Éponine had met - much as she’d been unable to feel anything, bleeding out... it was the slowest and most unpleasant way to die. It extended the suffering, made the world all the darker...
“Don’t you dare...” This wasn’t happening, was it? The grim reality of the situation was almost too much. “Gavroche, stay with us! Ain’t losin’ you... not like this...”
“May I try?” Enjolras offered, surging back to meet them as Courfeyrac carried Gavroche. “Gavroche. You must stay with us, gamin. We...have your pistol now.” He added, recalling that had been a major sticking point between them in the last life and that it might stir something in whoever the boy was now.
“Never stop fighting. Your life in the face of all of this will be the greatest triumph you can find.” He added, unsure, really, of where the words were coming from. “You must continue in this new world, fight against this and the the other demons you have conquered. To stay awake much longer...that is no small feat but smaller than those you have already accomplished here.” He added, thinking of what little he knew of the boy’s life.
“Advice from Enjolras is always an order.” Courfeyrac decided to put in there. “I would consider it as such. “ How could he keep the boy awake though. Actually, he had a thought, and glanced toward the others, before he adjusted his grip to be a little firmer, as the words of the song came to him. “Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men ...”
Part of the young man stirred at the song and he did everything he could to muster enough to sing the next. “It... is the music of the people who... will not be slaves again.” Coughed and leaned closer to Éponine and reached around to try and keep a close grip as he was lifted and carried up, the blood slick on his hands making it damn near impossible and he slipped several time. Try as he might to stay focused, to stay there the will to actually fight further was faltering.
It was a good thing that Éponine remembered that song, as well as humanly possible. Maybe singing it would, somehow, convince him to keep hold of life... she was never going to be far from him whilst this was going on, even whilst Courfeyrac carried her brother. “When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes...”
Though they had all had parts in it to sing, oddly choreographed in his memory, Enjolras knew the song as if it were happening here and now in front of them again, and it was only too easy to let himself allow the words to flow over him. If that was what would help, then he could give Gavroche that much, as Courfeyrac had done. He was not one to offer comfort, really, that meant anything, most of his words came in rare bursts at moments when they mattered most, or at the stroke of a pen, but he could act from memory now, and so he did so, “Will you join in our crusade, who will be strong and stand with me...”
“Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free...” Courfeyrac continued, his own line in this now, and not one of Enjolras’s. Whatever this drama WAS again. He was not entirely sure himself but it did seem to be helping. NOT that he thought it should continue very much further beyond a repeat. Blood of Martyrs was...not a very good thought to consider just now, was it? They had spilt that blood once, but here and now... No. He bit down on his lip again, glancing at Bahorel and willing him to simply shut the fuck up. ...Where had that word come from, so casually? Ah well, it certainly worked.
Bahorel? Was perfectly content with repeating things as they needed, or with going into something else. It wasn’t as if he wanted to witness the kid dying or anything. Admittedly, he was mostly bellowing above the singing, getting people to step away and part, but it was something, right?
Sure the singing had helped for a time... But as things went on, times slowed for him and the shouts of the crowd and the fireworks just started to hollow into empty beating in his ear, more so the sound of his own slowing heart beat. Echoes of the drum? What tomorrow did he have if this continued on. His eyes rolled back and his hand fell limp over the side, droplets of blood hitting the pavement as they grew even closer to the car. Sure, if got there in time they could put blood, transfuse what they needed to. The risk of not getting there was still very much there.
Oh, this was just going from worse to worst. What was Éponine meant to do? She’d promised to protect him, to keep him safe, and then something like this had to happen... “We have to hurry. I can’t... not like this. Never like this.”
In many ways, it was a mercy that she’d died before Gavroche in their dreams. Seeing it would’ve made her completely and utterly lose it, possibly to the point of no return - she would’ve willingly taken on the National Guard alone, knowing that she would die.
Bahorel felt the same, glad his death had come before that point. Watching this was...it was horrible. He’d been lucky, he realized now. So incredibly lucky that his death had been the first thing to happen to them at the barricade. It was selfish and unfair, but he’d been lucky.
“I would change my luck now.” He muttered. “Any chance at all we can get the van up here the last couple feet?” He’d seen this sort of shit in movies all the time after all. He was somehow managing to stay calm even though inside he wanted to freak the fuck out. If Occupy and rallies had taught him anything though? It was not to panic. “Cops are going to be fucking useless right now, or I’d say grab one of those.”
“It is not much further.” Courfeyrac had put on as much speed as he dared just now, his own hands and shirt covered in blood not his own, and his face a mass of blood that dripped from his lip now. He didn’t care about that. He liked the feeling of it rather more than the panic that was setting in. If they were not able to save Gavroche here, what good was any of this second chance at life. “Enjolras. DO something.”
Enjolras was aware, perhaps, that his friends considered him something of their confessor, that he had acted as a priest of sorts on the barricade, but he was a priest of revolution if he was anything, and that hardly was helping matters NOW, was it? What would Combeferre have done?
“Pressure on his wounds?” He suggested. “Prayer?” Not that he believed in anything himself, or knew if Gavroche did, but he made a grab for Courfeyrac’s pants pocket, tugging out a rosary he knew his friend still kept there, and let his fingers find the proper bead in something he knew from his childhood, then started praying, the Latin rising up for the others to follow along if they wished it. He could lead that at least, even as they ran for it.
The very moment Gavroche was in the car Azelma made quick to shove the others to the back seat while she pulled her brother closer. She’d taken off her jacket and pushed it to the wound with the most blood and cried as she pushed a kiss to his forehead, brushing her fingers through the now blood tinged blonde curls. “Baby brother!” Tried to keep from going into desperate hysterics as her voice trembled. Her sister should know what they sang to him each night from the very moment he was simply shoved into their room. The unwanted baby boy of their wretched mother.
“How were we suppose to know, Just how perfect you would be...Our love grew with your little heart. A miracle it seemed to us...” Rocked him slightly, her little baby brother. “ All the riches in the world. May not fall into your hands. Life won’t always treat you fair. But stand you will to its demands..” Looked up to Éponine with fear in her eyes before going back down to just pushing firmly at the jacket.
It wasn’t like Éponine could forget that. Even on the verge of slipping, as she’d seen Enjolras do, she knew - they’d practically raised Gavroche, more his mothers than their actual mother, and she liked to think they’d done an admirable job with him. A job that wasn’t yet done.
“We can’t promise you a diamond ring, Or a castle in the sky, But we will give you all our love, And a perfect lullaby,” It was only natural that she’d follow on from it. It was instinct, it was natural, it was everything she needed to keep herself even vaguely grounded in this reality. Slipping into a more 1830s version of herself wouldn’t do any of them good.“Keep on beating little heart, Sleeping safely in our arms, Rest your eyes our precious one, You are safe from all harm.”
Bahorel did his best to tune out what was going on as he was on the phone with someone again, rattling off details, and then instructions when he got them, to the sisters in the middle of the van and his friends in the back. Not that he knew entirely what to do beyond what they had , but when something relevant came up? He was going to go ahead and deliver it. Maybe he should be doing something about his two friends from 1832 , but right now? Bossing people around in chaos that he wasn’t causing was kind of his thing. It was almost an instinct now , really. Even so, after a glance in the rear mirror, he was changing focuses for a second.
“Apollon Lucien Enjolras, If you do not get your head out of there in about thirty seconds and make sure Courfeyrac stops gnawing himself to death, I will personally inform Combeferre about your crush on him.” He finally snapped, causing Enjolras to blink rapidly, and then, to grab a cloth or something and start dabbing at Courfeyrac’s lips.
It wasn’t like, now that everything was over, Courfeyrac was responding to a thing as it was, so Enjolras had pretty much free range to do whatever he wanted with him. Courfeyrac rocked back and forth on the seat, much the way he had almost a month ago. This was bad. This was...incredibly bad, and there was nothing he could do it about it, so...he had retreated. Jehan had died. The others had died. Gavroche and Eponine and he had done nothing then, and could do nothing NOW. He had no idea where he even WAS.
“You’re not going home tonight.” Enjolras told him. Not that he planned to himself, with Gavroche like this, but even so. “After Gavroche is at the hospital, we’re calling Jehan or his parents to come get you.” This was...so not good. “And he is going to be FINE.” He hoped.
As they got to the hospital, everyone was taken back, mostly because of the blood, and Gavroche was taken back further. People were called in, people being Haruka and Michiru, to get clothes for everyone who had been in contact with the blood. Made to shower by the nurses and Courf taken aside for a good long while to at least get him calmed down and that lip of his looked at.
It’s at least two hours wait and the chime for the nurses of a flat line before the Doctor came out to the little waiting room the 6 had been in. He looked around to them all before shutting the door behind him. “Who are the blood relations?”
That wasn’t ominous at all, was it? Éponine bit her lip, willing herself not to jump to the worst kinds of conclusions. It wouldn’t help any of them, especially not Gavroche. “I’m his sister. Azelma here is too.”
“Come on.” Bahorel told Enjolras, seeing the signal for both of them to get up and leave right the fuck now, before more things started going down. “We can, I don’t know, go see what’s going on with Courf. I know Jehan’s his emergency contact now, but you’ve apparently got Power of Attorney or something, they said?” Who knew with his friends, right?
“Good luck.” He added to the sisters, crossing himself as he got ready to haul Enjolras down th hall. “Let’s see if we can calm him down and convince them he doesn’t need more scans, and maybe call Jehan too. He’ll want to know.”
Enjolras, the rosary still clutched in his fingers nodded tightly as he let himself be lead off. Shit shit, SHIT though. This had NOT been supposed to happen.
Things had better improve, and fast.
The doctor nodded as the men went to check on their friend’s current status before motioning for the two women to follow. He led past the initial room he was in, past the basic care center, and in towards the intensive care unit. “We’ve not seen wounds like it. Well I certainly haven’t. A nurse says she remembers a young woman in not too long ago with bulletless bullet wounds and marked it off as something this town does. There were three wounds, the shoulder, the stomach, and barely missing getting lung and heart.”
Azelma took a tight hold of her sister’s hand, mostly out of nerves because of where they were. ICU? This can’t be good. When they drew closer there were glass walls where people could be watched. She brought a hand up to her mouth when she saw the room their brother was in. You could barely tell it was him. Bandages up and the yellow of the iodine, and IV and several heart monitors over. He had a breathing mask on and the nurse was looking at readings on the charts and marking the down.
“He lost quite a bit of blood and slipped into a coma as we were stitching up the larger of the three wounds.... He’s... as stable as we can get him. We need you to get washed up really well before going in though.” Led them to a wash sink and a nurse went to help them thoroughly wash.
Éponine wasn’t about to admit that she’d been that woman. Now wasn’t the time to try and explain the dreams to Azelma, much as she hoped and prayed that her sister would never start to suffer them. “...Is there anything more you can say? How long it’ll be, anything?”
The doctor shook his head, not looking the least bit emotional. They didn’t need a reassurance of hope, or a look of regret. They had to come to this on their own. “Only thing we can do is wait. Trauma and shock induced comas can last hours, weeks...” Sighed and rested a hand on both of their shoulders. “Years.”
“No... Baby brother.” Had her hands washed first and nearly ran over to hover over him. “Damn you... Don’t do this.” Took his hand and leaned over to push her forehead to his. “Damn you don’t... Stop being a drama king and just...”
“She needs to calm herself... It will do no good in her state.”
“I can deal with that...” Once Éponine had everything dealt with, she moved over to their brother, biting her lip to contain herself. Dissolving into a fit of emotion wouldn’t do any of them any good, especially since that now seemed to come with a risk of... something. “Little shadow... our baby brother is strong. He’ll wake up, I know he will.”
She didn’t know for certain. She just couldn’t face the thought of a world without him - she refused to even consider it, just because it’d lessen their brother’s sometimes truly incredible strength.
Azelma turned to push her face into the crook of her sister’s neck, not daring to let go of Gavroche’s hand. “Éponine... Why did this happen, what’s going on? Why is he hurt? Why were you talking different? Why did Enj and Courf act different. I’m so confused.”
This wasn’t going to be easy to explain in the slightest, but Éponine was going to give it her best shot. The last thing they needed was Azelma in more distress. “You’ve heard about the dreams that people have here, right? It’s... at least partially down to those. Ours aren’t anything close to pleasant, so... sometimes, things like that happen.”
“You say ours like it includes me...” That was not something she was looking forward to if it were true. She bit her lip and looked to her.