Let
Him Live
Grantaire could not sleep.
This
was not an unusual occurrence, but usually there was a definite
reason he couldn't sleep. Someone was yelling, a babe was crying,
possibly he wasn't tired. But tonight, it was definitely from fear.
An emotion he denied having. Usually.
But tonight was nowhere
near usual. Tonight he was on the barricade, lying half-sheltered
under a table while the rest of the fighters laid around him,
sleeping.
A soft murmur alerted him to another wakened person,
one that sounded vaguely like the man who'd come to the barricade,
the one who'd saved Enjolras. Slowly, Grantaire slit his eyes open to
find the old man kneeling over a sleeping Pontmercy. Praying. Not a
bad idea, though Grantaire hadn't prayed since the age of twelve. He
believe in no God, except possibly the one he found on Earth.
But
tonight isn't a time for old routines, Elliot. Which was a fact.
He wouldn't often call himself by his first name. Even to himself, he
was Grantaire, or more likely R; sometimes, in the darkest of moods,
winecask- not that he'd admit it, mind you.
So he prayed, but
not for himself.
God, I don't know if you exist, he
thought, as it seemed the best way to pray. An odd way to begin, but
oh well. But I believe that he does, and I'm not here for myself.
Kill me, if need be. But let him live.
Please, let him live.
He could be more than just the leader of a failed revolution; he
could be the one to lead the remaining of us, and others, to true
freedom. It's important that he lived. Even if we succeed, what will
be without Enjolras? He's our leader. Combeferre is more
philosophical and logical, Jolllly kinder, Pontmercy idealistic, even
I myself am more likely to reconsider plans then him. But no one else
could rally the people, raise their souls into a frenzy like
Enjolras.
I will die to let him live.
Grantaire
turned as naturally as he could fake it, looked with now half-opened
eyes at where Enjolras slept.
I will save you if I can,
Enjolras. I will die for you if I must; I will die with you if I
cannot save you.
It wasn't a plea anymore. It was a
promise.