A/n: Will the madness never end? Yeah, it's Monty. And Gavroche, too. They kinda go a little ooc, but...I try.

The sun was dipping low into the sky, sinking into the horizon. Most would be returning home for the night, but some had just awoken. They lived at night. One such nocturnal person strolled about the wretched streets, in no hurry but with distinct gait. Another was trailing behind him, furtively as he could until the first was aware of the presence behind him and whirled around.

"Aw, you went and ruined my fun." Gavroche laughed and scrambled to catch up with Montparnasse, who had quickly resumed his trek once he saw who was following him. "Where are we going?"

"We aren't going anywhere."

"We ought to go to dinner. I haven't had any of those in a while," Gavroche offered, attempting in vain to match his gait to Montparnasse's. The young man was not particularly thrilled with the urchin's appearance, but there was little he could do to be rid of the boy. So unlike the other beggars, Gavroche would not take a sou and leave; Montparnasse considered killing him. Noticing an odd protuberance on the boy's thigh, he questioned what was wrong.

"Rien. A vendor gave me an apple cos I helped him to set up his cart this morning. Snatched another one when he wasn't looking."

"And that's how you repay his charity?"

"No," Gavroche withdrew the apples from his pant leg ,"it's punishment for being foolish and trusting someone like me."

"You've had those in your trousers since this morning?" Montparnasse cringed as Gavroche nodded and proceeded to eat the fruit. God knew what sort of hideous disease had seeped into the fruit from the boy's skin. Gavroche, however, could have cared less where his next meal was coming from. The first apple was quickly finished, the core discarded by propelling it at an unaware passerby, and the second had been started. Watching with amazement, Montparnasse calculated that Gavroche had been able to devour both apples in under one minute. But most boys of such an age were eternally ravenous, well-fed or not, and so it was not too large of a surprise that the young urchin had begun to look for more food after downing his apples. Was he such a starved youth? He could not recall.

"Montparnasse?"

"Yes?"

"What does bacchanale mean?"

Very nearly choking, Montparnasse stopped abruptly. "What?" he spluttered, face twisted up into an expression of both horror and perplexion. The young urchin went on to tell him that he had heard the term the night before, used by a rather irrational group of men loitering outside an inn, and so kept it in mind in order to inquire as to its meaning. Chewing his lip, Montparnasse explained that it was a large, violent group of people that were usually intoxicated.

"How do you know?

"I know many things."

"Do you know why the sun rises?" Gavroche demanded, arms akimbo and chin tilted up defiantly. When Montparnasse did not immediately answer, he proceeded to tell him. "It's because people expect it to. Don't you assume the sun comes up every morning? It's the last bit of hope some people have, knowing the sun will come up the next day. That's why it rises."

After hearing perhaps the first philosophical thing to ever escape the child's mouth, Montparnasse hadn't the heart to tell him the sun rose simply because it did. Everything happened simply because it did, there was no hidden reason, no point of revelation. But even he was not so sadistic as to crush a small boy's dreams. Said child gazed skeptically into the sky, eyes squinting, carefully scrutinizing, and announced that it was growing dark and demanded Montparnasse return him to his elephant. Leading the way, Gavroche marched purposefully toward his digs.

Once they had reached the park, Gavroche still prevented the escape of Montparnasse. He decided that they would continue their conversation as gentlemen. Gavroche scoped out an empty bench in the park and drug the reluctant young man along to sit with him. The boy did much of the talking, Montparnasse merely nodded or shook his head, occasionally glancing around desperately for a place to run.

"Did you ever have a family, Montparnasse?"

"What? Oh, well, of course. Everyone does."

"I don't."

"Of course you do, you foolish boy. At least you had at some point. You weren't fabricated from the Parisian streets."

"Maybe I was." Defiant, Gavroche pulled his cap down over his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. Montparnasse's clear knowledge irritated him; hardened though he was, he was still a child, and still wanted to believe that there were some miraculous things left to illuminate the dark world. Stifling a yawn, he compacted himself into a small bundle of gamin, knees pulled tightly to his chest.

"Did you ever wish you had a real family, Gavroche? With a loving Maman and Papa? Siblings?"

"Could I have a little pup, too?"

"I...suppose." Montparnasse cocked an eyebrow at the boy's question, but did not deny him that bit of imagination.

"No. I don't wish I had a family. I have all I need out here." And that was that. Unable to restrain his exhaustion any longer, and always eager to pester his 'friend', Gavroche blinked a few times, yawned, and allowed himself to slump over onto Montparnasse's shoulder. Glaring at first, Montparnasse soon sighed and permitted the boy to sleep, even adjusting the urchin so that his head could rest in the dandy's lap. There. For all the world they could have been kin. Toying with a tuft of hair that had not been stuffed under the urchin's patchy hat, Montparnasse gazed out into the deep indigo sky, watching the first pinpoints of light break through. For a moment, Gavroche was just a child, and Montparnasse just a young man, taking in the peace and serenity of the night together. Just for a moment, they were brothers.