Hey all! Here's the fourth and final installment of this story! I hope you all like it! Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I. Am. Not. Hugo.

~Rosey

PART FOUR: The Broken Statue

Grantaire wasn't drunk, but he wasn't hung-over either. He was in that horrible in between stage… The stage he hated… But he wanted to be as sober as possible before going to see Enjolras. His Apollo had discovered only hours ago that his mother had passed away, and no matter how hard he tried to keep up his stone front, Grantaire had been able to tell that behind the façade, Enjolras was hurting, and badly. Now, the drunkard was stumbling up to the fifth floor of the apartments his noble leader lived in, and began looking for room 509, which was where the revolutionary lived.

When he finally found the door, Grantaire hesitated for a moment, the same anxious feelings he got the first time he, Joly, and Courfeyrac went up to Enjolras's room a few weeks ago surfacing again. Invading Enjolras's privacy seemed so rude to do, especially after the argument from before Easter, but darn it, he was worried about his Apollo. And so, he reached out and knocked on the door.

"Apollo?" he called quietly through the door, forcing his voice not to slur. When no response came, he tried knocking again. "Apollo, are you home?" This time he thought he heard a little shuffling sound from the other side of the door, but no verbal response was given. Grantaire hesitated one more moment before he gently pushed open the door, nervously stepping into the room.

Nothing on Earth could have prepared Grantaire for the sight that greeted him. His idol…his Apollo…his leader…his Enjolras… was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands, and he was crying. Not just crying, though… Sobbing. So much it looked painful. His body trembled with each wracking sob, and his shimmering blond hair shook with each choked breath. The note he received in the Musain laid on the floor at his feet, and the last note from his mother was in his lap, slowly getting drenched with the tears spilling down his face. Enjolras seemed not to even notice the new visitor in the room; he only kept sobbing brokenly into his hands.

Grantaire was stunned. His marble statue was broken. And then he took a deep breath. Well. He may be broken now, but it was his duty to put him back together. And with that, he shuffled over to the bed and took a seat by the sobbing young man. "Apo- Enjolras?"

The revolutionary leader glanced up at the drunkard, his eyes red and swollen, his face flushed, some wild strands of blond hair matted to his cheeks with his tears. He swallowed thickly, and managed a trembling little "W-what are you doing h-here?"

"I… I wanted to make sure you were alright," Grantaire mumbled quietly. He hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own handkerchief and reaching up to dab at his leader's eyes.

Enjolras pulled back, forcing his eyes to harden. "I'm f-fine," he forced his voice to steady, but it still broke at the end, giving him away.

"And I'm not a useless drunk," Grantaire muttered sarcastically, again trying to dry his friend's eyes.

At these words, Enjolras froze a little, and then his face melted slightly, more tears forming in his blue eyes. "Grantaire… I'm so s-sorry I s-said that. I d-didn't mean that…"

"Yes you did," Grantaire said softly. "You mean everything you say."

"But s-sometimes I should just k-keep my m-m-mouth s-shut," Enjolras forced a little chuckle, but his face crumpled, and he sniffed a little, putting his face back in his hands.

Grantaire hesitated for a moment before gently reaching over and pulling his noble leader into a tight embrace. He was surprised when Enjolras crumpled against him, as if he was indeed a marble statue that was suddenly turning to dust. Grantaire started slightly, but then just brought Enjolras closer to him, burying his face in the blond hair, planting a small kiss there. "It's alright, Julien. It's going to be okay." He stroked Enjolras's silky hair gently, allowing his friend to cry into his shirt. It was almost an otherworldly experience for the drunkard… Up to this point, Enjolras seemed unbreakable. And now, he seemed a small child in the bigger man's arms, sobbing uncontrollably, his tears soon soaking through the other man's shirt. And so Grantaire just held him close, allowing the Greek God to become a human.

After what seemed like an eternity, Enjolras pulled back, sniffing slightly, wiping his sleeve across his eyes, and taking a shaky breath. "S-she w-was all I h-had left," Enjolras stumbled over his words helplessly. "B-besides P-Patria."

"Hey," Grantaire put a finger under his leader's chin and lifted Enjolras's head so the blue eyes had to meet the drunkard's eyes of brown. The bigger man gently wiped away the blond's tears with his thumbs, offering him a tiny smile. "How many times do we have to tell you? You have the amis. You've always had us, and you always will."

Enjolras looked deeply into Grantaire's eyes for another moment before his face finally broke into a tiny, teary smile. "T-thank y-you, G-Grantaire."

"You're welcome, Julien," the other man smiled slightly, pulling him into another hug, burying his face into the blond locks. "Just never forget that, yes?"

"I won't," Enjolras promised shakily from his position in Grantaire's shoulder.

The drunkard nodded a little, and then sighed. How wrong he had been all this time… Julien Enjolras was no Apollo. He was no Greek God. He was not a marble statue. Julien Enjolras was as capable of being broken as the next person. Julien Enjolras felt lonely, and Julien Enjolras felt scared.

Julien Enjolras was human after all.

And so Grantaire just held his leader long into the night, letting him break, letting him cry.

Yes, after several months of Enjolras being his normal, stoic self once more, Grantaire began viewing him as the marble Apollo again. But he would never forget that day that he saw his idol fall, and when the revolution came and his Apollo was destined to fall again, he knew he would be there at his side once more. For that was his place. By Julien Enjolras's side. And that would never change.

Ah, the full-circle-ish ending. Hope you all enjoyed this. Poor Enjolras... At least he has his Grantaire there to comfort him.

Please review? They mean the world!

Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey