Disclaimer: Still not mine

Again, I'm sorry. It had to be done.

Enjolras somehow makes it through the night, though he doesn't understand how. He's lost everything within a matter of minutes and he finds that he no longer cares. What's the point of leading the revolution without her? Éponine is gone and so is his spirit.

He finds himself longing to feel the bullets rip his chest apart. He can't wait for the moment when everything is gone, when the darkness will greet him and welcome him in with open arms.

He can't wait to see her.

He imagines her, his beautiful little Persephone, anxiously awaiting his descent. While she might not have loved him above ground, there's always a chance she will love him in death. After all, she is his queen and he is her king and together they will rule the shadows.

Even though he's anxiously awaiting the afterlife, he still finds himself throwing everything he has into fighting. While his revolution is a failure (he's absolutely certain it's going to fail now, if there was any doubt before), he still has a death to avenge. They all fight in Éponine's name, but very few make it past the first wave of fire. He takes out every guardsman that he sees, channeling his despair and anger into killing them, making them suffer. He is Hades now and he, and only he, will decide who enters his underworld.

He notices the lack of Marius around the barricade and Enjolras is certain that he's not dead, that he must have somehow escaped. For once, he is grateful that Marius is flighty because he knows that Éponine is not yet ready to lead her love to the underworld. Enjolras isn't ready yet, either, if he's being honest. Death is what will bring the two together, and he will not let Marius once again separate them. If Marius lives and he dies then so be it.

The fighting continues and he has very little time to react. One by one his friends fall, eyes that were once gleaming now blank and expressionless. It saddens Enjolras to see his comrades look so...empty. He caused this. They blindly followed a fallen god to their deaths, and he never once corrected them when they called him their fearless leader. He let them believe that he was as unbreakable as a marble statue, as unafraid as the revolutionaries that came before him. He is nothing but a failure now.

There's four of them left now. Somehow they managed to reach the top floor of the wine shop that they all frequented. He glances at his friends, his four best friends, and takes in their appearances one last time. They look panicked, like the terrified school boys they are, and he swears that he sees tears forming in Courfeyrac's eyes.

I'm so sorry, he thinks.

He doesn't understand how a bullet doesn't hit him, but his friends all drop to the ground and somehow, he remains standing. He's cornered now on the second floor and he smiles to himself. He's one step closer to her and he prides himself on not being afraid. For the first time, he feels hope. His revolution may have failed but at least he doesn't have to stick around to hear about it. He will die a noble death, fighting until the last second for his cause. It bothers him because no one will know that Éponine was the bravest, that the dark, stubborn and passionate gamine with the adorable dimples was the most god-like of them all. Enjolras is a coward, afraid of the light, but she is the light. She is the real hero of this story, not this boy playing war with his friends.

He hears the steps creek and suddenly, he's surrounded by the National Guard. Guns are being pointed at him and he's so, so, close to death and then there's another set of footsteps and there's Grantaire, ready to die by the side of his not-so-fearless leader.

"Anything for you, Apollo," he mutters, coming to take his spot next to Enjolras.

He takes one look at his friend and nods, grimacing at that blasted nickname. He knows that this isn't Grantaire's fight, that he never really cared about anything, but he knows that this is what he wants. Grantaire needs to die with Enjolras just like Enjolras needs to die to be with Éponine.

The guardsmen are ready now, tired of waiting. Enjolras raises the red flag (the color of her blood, he thinks) and smirks because he's no longer afraid. His Persephone will be there to greet him. The bullets rip from the guns, striking him in the chest. With one last apology on his lips, he falls out the window, thinking of chestnut hair and dimples before finally succumbing to the darkness.

Hades has returned to the underworld, at last.

So that's it!

His death scene is always a tricky one to write so I hope I did it justice. I even included some E/R just because I felt like it made sense. Personally, I don't ship E/R (at least not in the traditional sense) but I love unrequited love almost as much as I love cookie dough, so voila! There it is.

Also, aaronteviet on tumblr made a stunning gifset of this story, featuring the beloved barricade boys. It's seriously gorgeous so check it out! aaronteviet . tumblr post/ 43922345230/ one-day-more-the-final-battle-it-finally (just remove the spaces!)

I hope you enjoyed this little tale as much as I enjoyed writing it. There might be more E/É in the future, who knows, but I'm so thankful for all the positive feedback I've received. You guys are the best. X's and O's and pocket-sized Tveits for everyone!