A/N: Well, folks, this is it! Sorry it took so long to get the epilogue up, but college has been crazy. I can't believe my first full fic is over! Thank you to everyone who stuck with it and gave such kind feedback. Enjoy this last chapter and I hope to see you all in the future with a new fic!

Epilogue

When Enjolras wakes on the morning of June 5, 1833, he doesn't quite realize what day it is. For a split second, there is peace as if it were any other day, but it doesn't take too long for him to remember after that. Flashbacks begin to race through his mind as soon as he remembers – the funeral, an innocent bystander shot, building the barricade, and blood, so much blood…

But Enjolras will not cry. Not now. Today might be the first anniversary of the barricade, but it is not the anniversary of his friends' deaths yet. He will save his tears for tomorrow. That's when he'll truly need them.

He dresses silently and makes his way downstairs. He's gotten much better at handling stairs on his own as long as he has his cane. The house has been quiet since Marius and Cosette moved to their own apartment a few weeks ago, despite how often they visit since it's only a ten-minute walk. M. Gillenormand and Valjean are both still asleep, but that's fine. Enjolras needs some time alone because neither man will understand what he is feeling today and tomorrow. Sure, Valjean was at the barricade and witnessed deaths, but he did not know most of the deceased. He was only there for Marius, and Marius lives. Marius, the only one who will have even an inkling of how Enjolras must be feeling.

Yes, it's better that Enjolras eats his breakfast alone.

After breakfast, he is eventually joined in the parlor by the other men of the house. Valjean asks if he's alright, to which he says yes even if it's a lie, and no more is said for the time being. Enjolras sits there, absorbing the silence as M. Gillenormand reads the paper and Valjean drinks some tea, and wishes he lived on his own again. He misses the privacy of it, being able to hide away in his room without interruption if he felt he couldn't face the world. But his old apartment has already been leased to another tenant given his long absence, and Enjolras doesn't think he'd be allowed to leave anyway. Despite it being an entire year later, Dr. Bonhomme, Valjean, M. Gillenormand, and Cosette all agree that Enjolras still needs help from time to time – physically and mentally – which renders him incapable of caring for himself.

After twenty minutes of uncomfortable sitting in the parlor, Enjolras excuses himself to his room. He just can't handle pretending like everything is fine anymore. No one questions his actions, although Valjean does look a little concerned, and Enjolras even lets a few tears fall once he's alone. He said he wouldn't cry, but today is turning out to be just as difficult as he imagines tomorrow will be.

Today is the reason his friends are all dead. Today is his fault. The barricade was too much too soon – France wasn't ready for that kind of change yet. If Enjolras had seen that, if he'd bided his time and thrown his efforts into some more peaceful protests, things could have been different. Perhaps his friends would still be here with him. This day could have been one for celebration rather than grief.

But what's done is done. Enjolras must accept that and move forward, even if it will always hurt a little.

His feelings the next day are a little different.

When he wakes up on the morning of June 6th, after a rough night full of nightmares, Enjolras finds that he can't get out of bed. His friends' deaths replay over and over in his mind as he lays there, staring at the ceiling. Tears brim in his eyes but do not fall just yet. In the early hours of this morning, one year ago, he was with his friends for the last time. He drank with them, laughed with them, for the last time. And then he was forced to say goodbye to them…

"Enjolras?" A knock at the door combined with the calling of his name pulls Enjolras back to the present. The voice is Valjean, but Enjolras cannot get out of bed to answer. He wonders if his door is unlocked; the question is answered a moment later when he hears Valjean enter.

"Enjolras, it's four o'clock," says Valjean. Enjolras continues to stare at the ceiling. "Marius and Cosette will be here in an hour for dinner. I know today is difficult, perhaps more so than yesterday, but perhaps you could dress and join us."

He doesn't know. That's all Enjolras can think. Valjean has no idea how hard this day is for him. He cannot possibly know what it feels like to watch the life leave everyone you care about, and then have to relive it a thousand times. And, in light of all that, dinner doesn't seem very important.

"No," utters Enjolras. That's all he has the energy to say. Valjean sighs audibly.

"Enjolras, please, we can't go down this road again." He means the depression. Anger twinges within Enjolras, and he musters the energy to sit up and look Valjean in the eye.

"We aren't going down 'this road' again," says Enjolras in a low, cold voice. "I will be fine tomorrow. But today? Today I cannot get out of bed, I cannot get dressed, I cannot eat because I am mourning the best friends I have ever been privileged enough to have. So please leave me be today."

Silence.

"Just consider it," says Valjean quietly, and then he's gone.

Consider it. Enjolras doesn't want to, but he also can't help it. He doesn't feel like he is capable of getting out of bed, of pretending that life is anywhere close to normal today, but is that fair to Marius and Cosette? Surely it is a difficult day for Marius, too, so he could use the support of his only living friend. Enjolras is being selfish in denying him that.

He forces himself out of bed. At this point, he can dress without the help of his cane, and he proceeds to do so now. He takes a minute to collect himself, grabs his cane, and goes downstairs. Valjean is in the kitchen, overseeing the preparation of tonight's dinner. Enjolras enters hesitantly; the thud of his cane on the kitchen tile alerts Valjean to his presence.

"Enjolras," he says with a smile. "I'm glad you reconsidered."

Enjolras just gives a little shrug before exiting to go to the dining room where he will await Marius and Cosette. He's doing this for them, not for Valjean and certainly not for himself. He doesn't need this, but they do.

At exactly five o'clock, Enjolras hears M. Gillenormand greeting his grandson and granddaughter in-law. He braces himself for what might be yet to come, unsure of how Marius and Cosette will treat him on this day; he even finds that he's holding his breath when the pair enter the dining room.

"Enjolras!" Cosette's voice is pure joy as she throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest and holding on tight. The fact that her embrace doesn't hurt is a testament to how far Enjolras has come in the past few months.

"Hello, Cosette," he replies quietly but lovingly. She detaches herself from him and looks at him with a glowing smile. He finds that this drops his mood – why is she so happy on such a terrible day?

Marius, on the other hand, looks appropriately mournful. He gives Enjolras a subdued greeting, then takes his place at the table without another word. For once, Enjolras finds that Marius is currently the least annoying person he knows. He understands some of the pain Enjolras is feeling and he is smart enough to leave Enjolras mostly alone.

Dinner is a quiet affair. M. Gillenormand and Valjean both know that Enjolras and Marius are not up for much conversation; Cosette still has a smile on her face, but she too can sense that no one is feeling particularly chatty. When everyone has cleared their plate – or, in Enjolras's case, decently picked at their food – the group moves to the parlor. There are ten candles on top of the fireplace – one for each of their friends to die at the barricade.

There should be eleven. That's all that runs through Enjolras's mind as he stares at the candles while those around him make polite conversation. He doesn't usually think that anymore; he's accepted that he lived while his friends died. But today? Today he wishes he was dead with them. There will be time tomorrow to feel grateful to be alive.

"Shall we light the candles now?" Valjean's question pulls Enjolras out of his grief-stricken thoughts. He's looking at him expectantly, like it only matters if Enjolras is ready. It reminds him of his days as the Chief of Les Amis when every decision was ultimately up to him – even when it came to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who were supposed to be his right hand men.

"There's more men! There's more men, Enjolras!" He remembers the desperation in Combeferre's voice during their moments together, begging Enjolras to tell the remaining Amis what to do to get out of the situation alive. That was one of the few times in his life he wished he wasn't the leader, wished he was anybody other than who he was.

"Yes, let's begin." His own voice sounds wooden and stiff. He won't even pretend he doesn't see the look of concern on Valjean's face as he limps forward to the fireplace.

Valjean hands each of them a box of matches. The plan is to light a candle for each of the deceased, saying their names as they do so. Enjolras and Marius have both asked to light the candles for those they were closest to, and the rest will be divided up between Cosette, Valjean, and M. Gillenormand. Enjolras doesn't quite approve of this method since he was close with all of them except for Eponine, but he doesn't want to make such a special moment problematic so he keeps his mouth shut.

"Eponine," says Marius softly, lighting the first candle. She was the first to fall, so it is only appropriate to light hers first.

"Gavroche." Valjean lights the next candle. Emotion starts to well up in Enjolras at the little gamin's name; he's going to cry before this is over. God, he is so tired of crying.

"Combeferre." It's Enjolras's turn now, and his voice shakes as he lights a candle for one of his very best friends.

"Bossuet." Marius lights another candle.

"Joly." Cosette lights her first candle, followed by M. Gillenormand's first candle with "Bahorel".

"Courfeyrac." Enjolras lights a second candle for his other very best friend and feels one tear slip down his cheek. Cosette reaches over to squeeze his free hand while Valjean lights a candle for "Feuilly", only letting go when it's her turn to light one for "Jehan".

There's only one unlit candle left, and it's Enjolras's job to light that one.

"G-Grantaire." The words barely come out of Enjolras's mouth. He fumbles with the match, but his hands are too shaky this time. Because he can only think of how Grantaire would still be alive if it weren't for Enjolras. If he hadn't been in love with Enjolras, he'd have drunkenly slept through the whole affair and walked away alive. Marius reaches out gently and takes the match from Enjolras, lighting the candle for him.

"Grantaire," repeats Marius more firmly. Silent tears start to flow down Enjolras's cheeks as the others recite a prayer for their lost friends and comrades. As soon as it's finished, Enjolras turns away from the candles to go sit on the sofa. Cosette follows him and sits beside him, taking his hands in hers and rubbing them soothingly.

"Enjolras, I know this has been a difficult day and I'm so proud of you for getting through it," she coos, wiping his tears away. "I have some good news that I think will lift everyone's spirits. I haven't told anyone this – not even you, Marius."

This grabs everyone's attention, including Enjolras despite how distraught he may be. Cosette takes a deep breath and smiles.

"I'm expecting a child," she says. For a moment, everyone just looks at her. Enjolras himself isn't sure he heard her correctly. Then Marius lets out a strangled squeal and pulls his bride into a hug.

"Cosette, that's wonderful!" he cries, and Enjolras is finally able to comprehend what she's just said. She's going to have a baby. He joins Valjean and M. Gillenormand in offering his congratulations to her. For the first time in two days, there is a genuine light and happiness flooding throughout the room.

The fact that new life can come about on a day of such loss gives Enjolras some hope that the future will be bright after all.