10/3/12

Disclaimer – I own nothing from Les Mis itself

Compromised

So another fanfiction … spawned from an idea in my English lesson … why do all my ideas come during English? … never mind. Anyway enjoy and review!

Chapter 1

Enjolras was walking alone in the streets of Paris. Needless to say, at night these streets weren't the safest places to be but in his anger filled haze he did not care. The street lamps flickered in a cold breeze causing in stoic figure to shiver involuntarily. How dare Grantaire speak to him like that? He had offered the drunkard a place in their society because they were old friends but mentioning Enjolras' troubled past was a leap over the line. Enjolras wiped a rouge tear out of his eye remembering the day that Grantaire heartlessly mentioned. He trusted Grantaire in confidence not to mention to any one what happened and the winecask had broken that very oath. More tears began to well up. He still felt the pain and guilt of the incident even though it was fourteen years ago. He snuck down on the floor with his head in his hands. "I am sorry Ferre, still sorry. It was all my fault," he murmured to himself.

"Are you Monsieur Ricard Enjolras?" A gruff voice from behind him bellowed. Enjolras jumped up and spun round to find a large figure blocking his exit from the alley. Enjolras mustered as much energy and pride as he could before addressing the stranger. "That I am who wishes to know?" Enjolras asked stepping forwards. That was the wrong move to make. Shadowed figures jumped from the roofs surrounding him and all raised handguns pointing at his head. The figure strode forwards and stepped into the circle. "Ricard Julien Enjolras you are arrested for disturbance of the peace and conspiracy for treason. You can come quietly or we can do this how I wish to?" The man asked with a sadistic smile. Enjolras kicked out weakly towards the man but with lightning quick reflexes the man grabbed his leg, twisted and Enjolras collapsed onto the ground. Enjolras let out a cry of pain at his dislocated leg but continued to try to stand up. The famous Ricard Enjolras was not going down without a fight. The leader pulled out a gun and pointed it at the struggling Enjolras. "Are you going to stay down while my men tie you up or do we have to make a mess?" He asked cocking the gun. Enjolras leapt up but at the same time the man let out a shot that smacked and ran though his not dislocated hip. Enjolras collapsed to the floor as blood pooled out from the wound and neither of his legs could hold any weight anymore. The leader smiled. "Here let me help you with that," he chuckled and relocated Enjolras hip with a quick boot. Enjolras cried out and the screams echoed off the enclosed walls. No one came. That was how Paris worked. No one saw anything. No one did anything.

"You two tie him up and you stop him bleeding to death," the commander ordered his men. One man hurriedly bandaged up Enjolras' wound making him cry at every movement. The others tied his arms behind his back and shoved a makeshift gag into his mouth with immense levels of brutality. The leader walked over with a smile and pulled Enjolras' arms up so they were above his head and twisted further than they should ever go. The gag prevented any more cries but tears of pain trickled from his eyes. He was dragged through the dirt by his twisted arms and thrown into a police carriage. Blood was soaking through the bandage and Enjolras was slowly losing consciousness as the pain became too much. When the carriage set off, Enjolras was thrown against the wall and everything became a welcoming black.

The next morning, Enjolras didn't arrive. That wasn't like him. He was never not at a meeting without telling Combeferre exactly why not. Combeferre had walked to Enjolras' flat to pick him up and he wasn't there. Just a slapdash note on the inside of the door saying, "just had to head out! See you at the cafe" So Combeferre had come to the meeting and Enjolras had not turned up at all. Combeferre had improvised a speech but he was constantly watching the door and his mind racing. He cut the meeting short and set off back to Enjolras' apartment, while trying to stop his mind conjuring all the worst case scenarios. Enjolras couldn't be dead. He could not lose his little brother now. He knocked on the door and was about to unlock it when a notice pinned hastily onto the door caught his eye. He tore it off and read it. To whom this may concern, the owner of this household Ricard Enjolras has been placed under arrest for countless charges. If anyone has any information about this man's business or any of his associates please come to the police and you will be handsomely rewarded for your troubles. Combeferre gawped at the notice and hurriedly reread it before shoving it into his pocket and making a run for it. He ran straight to the house where he knew Grantaire to be hiding and rammed open the door. Grantaire was stood inside with a gun pointing straight at Combeferre's head.

"Never burst in on me," Grantaire moaned throwing the gun on the bed and sitting down. "What's so urgent that you felt the pressing need to break my door?" Grantaire asked weakly. Combeferre frantically unscrewed that note and threw it at Grantaire. "They found him," Combeferre murmured tears threatening to finally spew out. Grantaire hurriedly read the note and started at it in shock.
"No ... No!" Grantaire shouted throwing the note at the wall. "We need to save him!" Grantaire shouted and Combeferre nodded.
"I shall go to the Amis and spread the news. We shall come up with something 'Taire," he promised and darted out of the smashed door. That moment Grantaire's heart shattered again. Enjolras had been taken because he was angry ... Because of him. He had to save him; he just had to. Whatever the cost may be.

Combeferre ran through the streets barging people and carts out of his way in a frenzy. They had prepared for a situation like this but no one had ever actually thought this would happen. He approached the Musian and tried to calm his flapping heart. He was their leader now. He had to be strong despite the impending threat on his best friend and honorary little brother. He still hurried into the almost deserted cafe. Thankfully, the innocent civilians had all left the cafe and only members of the Amis remained. Feuilly was stood at the bar flirting with the temporary bar staff and her vivid red blush was a sure fire sign that he was winning. No one could ever resist the honest worker with a bad boy streak. Courfeyrac was laughing and taking bets with Bahorel on Feuilly's success with the unsuspecting girl. Joly was drinking and having a conversation with Bossuet probably about some condition Bossuet seemed to have caught ... Again. The Musian was still a friendly place but it seemed empty. Without the heart and soul of the revolution, in the form of Enjolras, the room lacked energy and passion. And without the friendly face of Grantaire it was silent as if the building itself was waiting for Grantaire's laughter of the sounds of a bar fight to fill the silence. None came. Everyone turned to face the newcomer hoping for good news. Combeferre was in no position to give any.

"Everyone this is an emergency. We have been compromised," he exclaimed jumping up onto one of the tables. "Enjolras has been arrested and they are hunting for his accomplices," he explained and everyone jumped to their feet.
"How did they catch him unaware?" Courfeyrac asked even though in his heart. He was sure everyone already knew.
"He was working of his anger ... At Grantaire," Combeferre whispered and the air became dense and clammy against his sweating skin.
"Ferre, I believe you owe us an explanation. What was the incident Grantaire spoke of? The consequence he still blamed himself for after all these years?" Courfeyrac asked and Combeferre's heart dropped.
"I guess ... You had better know. Enjolras asked us all to keep it a secret but the truth is better than what your minds will conjure. Unfortunately I can only tell it from what I have been told of that time not from first hand," Combeferre sighed stating down and the Amis all assembled around his sullen figure. "When we were children, Grantaire, Enjolras and I were practically brothers. Enjolras was as passionate about France as he is now and was constantly talking about a better world," Combeferre smiled weakly. "The problem is ... Enjolras' parents were separated and he lived with his mother and grandfather. His father was an abusive drunkard but his mother kept on giving the bastard second chances. Much like now, Enjolras hid his pain and struggles from Grantaire and I. One day I found him with a black eye and bruises scattered around his body. He claimed to have fallen down the stairs and I could not do anything to get him to tell me the truth. I treated his wounds but reluctantly had to send him back into that house. The next day I went to see Enjolras and he had a gash on his head, more bruises and a broken arm," Combeferre muttered solemnly and the others looked on in shock at what their marble leader had gone through. "I convinced him to come live at my house and reluctantly he agreed. We loved in peace and met Enjolras' lifelong idol and an inspiration for all three of us, his name was Rene and he was a revolutionary. He was like a big brother to all of us and cared greatly. A couple of days later we were on our way back from a meeting when Enjolras' father found us. He grabbed onto Enjolras and they struggled. I appeared and pulled Enjolras away and kicked his father telling Enj to run. His dad fought back kicking me in the stomach and pushing me to the ground before lunging after Enjolras again. Enjolras begged me to leave him but I wouldn't. I fought him off but he was too strong and he picked me up throwing me to the ground. I was out cold bleeding from the head. Enjolras was dragged screaming into his house. I awoke and ran to help but was too late. Thankfully, Rene was walking past and I shouted him before passing out. I was carried back to my house and woke up when a battered and bruised Enjolras was carried in. I treated him and after a couple of weeks we were both healed. Enjolras still blames himself for my injury but things just began to get worse. I feel asleep in the cafe ... And when I eventually awoke, well, I could not remember the past year and a half," he murmured and the room fell deathly silent. "Enjolras blames himself for my memory loss and no matter what we did he would not let it go so we all decided. Enjolras would stop feeling guilty and we would never mention it again," Combeferre sighed rubbing his face. The cafe was silent.
"Why did he never tell us?" Courfeyrac whispered.
"It was a sign of weakness and I thought you would all make a fuss of my ... Disability," he stuttered.
"Not being able to remember is not a disability," Joly exclaimed and Combeferre sighed.
"It's not that ... I have a cracked skull. Any kind of head injury means I could lose function of my body or lose my memory or it could kill me," he sighed standing up. "But that is not the problem now ... Enjolras is our main priority and I want all of you to forget about this discussion until we are all in the clear," Combeferre insisted, already tired of the looks of pity. Everyone nodded solemnly.

"Joly, you go and get Jehan. Courf you find Marius. Meg," he said addressing the bar girl. "Your boss has measures in place for such an event. You are to close up for the foreseeable future due to staff illness. Your wages will be paid in full with a 100 franc bonus if you swear to keep this whole affair silent," Combeferre announced and the girl gawped before nodding frantically. Joly and Courfeyrac darted out of the doors and set to work on their hidden missions. "Everyone else start loading the supplies out of the back room to upstairs," Combeferre commanded running through the protocols Enjolras and himself had devised to keep the Amis safe. He never believed that he would actually have to do this without Enjolras by his side. Once everyone was working the enormity of this sunk onto his shoulders and he slumped down off the table. It was his fault. It was all his fault, if he hadn't let things get out of hand then Enjolras wouldn't have let his guard down out at night.

Courfeyrac returned with Marius and set the boy to work setting up the upstairs so they could all stay there until the police threat died down. He looked over and spotted Combeferre slumped on the edge of the table with his head in his hands. "Ferre, are you alright mon ami?" He asked hesitantly sitting next to the hunched figure. This episode with Enjolras and Grantaire had taken a lot out of them all but none more than Combeferre. The boy looked like the world rested on his shoulders and he had run himself ragged keeping the Amis afloat despite the fact one of them was missing and their all-powerful leader was plagued with immense anger. Enjolras was like a little brother to the tall blonde. He was probably plagued with the grief of what haunted his best friend. He didn't want all this to hurt his friend's head. They didn't know what they would do without him. He was the backbone of the Amis and they all know that Enjolras needs his big brother.
"Everything is fine Courf ... We just need to get him back," Combeferre murmured but the philosopher knew that that could not be the whole story. He raised an eyebrow as a polite way of telling Combeferre that he knew that wasn't the whole truth. "I should have stayed with him and tried to calm him down. Those two are always fighting but never on this scale before. They are both hurt and angry ... I knew something bad would happen," Combeferre exclaimed.