By Fate (I know, it's super cheesy but I couldn't think of anything else.)

Ok, this is set when Enjolras is about 6. Hope you enjoy the fluff :3

Why wouldn't they leave him alone?

His blond hair was tied off his face as he ran along the street. He turned down a small alley and hid. He was sweating, his heart was racing, and he was breathing hard.

"Hey Girl-face!"

"Girly-Boy!"

"Hey Girly, don't you want a dolly?"

Enjolras squirmed deeper into the wall and prayed they wouldn't find him there. His eyes glistened with tears. Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps coming down the alley, accompanied by shouts of;

"I think I saw her go down here."

"Hey Girly-Boy, we know you're there!"

A fist grabbed Enjolras' hair and he was yanked to his feet. The bigger boys jeered at him and punched him. They mocked him, called him names until the tears started to spill onto his cheeks.

"Stop it! Go away!" He cried, but this only meet with more disdainful comments.

"Aw look, Girly-Boy's crying!"

"Sissy Girl-Face!"

"Here, where's your dress Girly?"

They laughed again, punching and kicking Enjolras.

He was curled up in a ball, trying to crawl away, but whenever he moved he was dragged back into the centre of the circle of cruel boys, laughing and taunting his cries.

"Hey, losers! Back off!"

The call came from the mouth of the alley.

"Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do ugly?"

Enjolras lifted his head. His eyes were blurred with tears and dirt, but he could just make out the shape of the boy, his saviour, barrelling towards the biggest of the bullies. The boy knocked down the bully, who went flying back against the wall. Instead of running to the aid of their fallen comrade, they fled in the opposite direction. The boy who had been hit scrambled up and ran as he burst into tears.

The boy who had helped him grabbed Enjolras' hand and helped him to his feet.

"Are you ok? Did those boys hurt you?"

Enjolras nodded and rubbed at his eyes with a sleeve.

"Here."

The kind boy handed him a worn handkerchief. Enjolras smiled and wiped away his tears. He offered the hanky back to the older boy.

"No, keep it. I don't need it."

"Thank you." It was the first time Enjolras had spoken in hours, and his voice was cracked and distorted.

"What's your name, kid?" The boy inquired.

"Enjolras. What's yours?"

"It doesn't matter. Do those boys bother you often?"

Enjolras bit his lower lip, and nodded.

"Well, don't let them win. Let this handkerchief always remind you to stand up for what is right, and never let anyone stop you doing something good for another." The older one smiled, and walked away.

There and then Enjolras resolved to always be brave and help others, like the boy had helped him. He looked at the handkerchief. A single letter was embroidered onto the fabric.

R.

-Fast forward 15 years-

Enjolras sighed. Another unruly meeting of the amis. Grantaire was insulting everyone, as usual. It was times like this his belief that this rag-tag group of students could make a serious change to the order of things wavered slightly. As he always did when things like this happened, he reached into the pocket of his red jacket and his fingers closed around a scrap of material. That handkerchief reminded him of that day, so long ago, when he had vowed to do the right thing.

As he looked at Grantaire and Coufeyrac wrestling on the floor over something Grantaire had said, a thought struck him.

R.

He shook his head. No, it was a coincidence. It was impossible that this alcoholic lout could be the same boy that had been the first person Enjolras had admired. He may even go so far as to say loved.

There was no way…

So, there you are. When I first thought it up, it was a lot fluffier than it turned out. Oh well