Work Text:
There’s a greif that can’t be spoken, theres the pain wears on and on Empty Chairs at Empty Tables now my friends are dead and gone
Here they talked of revolution, here it was they lit the flame Here they sang about tomorrow, but tomorrow never came
From the table in the corner, they could see a world reborn. And they rose with voices ringing and I can hear them now! The very words that they had sung, became their last communion. On the lonely barricade at dawn.
Bangs sounded in the air, Marius didn’t need to be told twice where he was. Ball’s whistled past his ear and narrowly missed him. Chaos was all around him, he trembled and shook. Not again, not tonight. Couldn’t he go one night without this? A particually loud bang rendered the others to silence. The world seemed to slow down and his vision narrowed on the ball headed straight for him, the only thing that was able to move. He knew it was coming but he couldn’t move. Suddenly a hand shot out in front of him to catch the ball. The flesh began to pull back from the centre until in the middle of it remained a hole ringed with blood.
His arms opened as the owner of the hand fell into them, her green eyes were wide and focused on nothing, her hair falling out of the bun she had stuffed under her cap. He knew she was already dead. Tears fell from his eyes and washed the dirt from her face. No. This was not what was supposed to happen. This wasn’t how it went, her last words couldn’t be taken from her. It wasn’t fair, he needed her to know how much he cared, how sorry he was.
She wasn’t meant to die so soon. She shouldn’t have had to die at all.
He bent to kiss her, to give her the goodbye she wanted. Hoping that she’d realise he was sorry. Sorry he hadn’t been kinder, hadn’t seen the hurt he’d caused, sorry he’d killed her. His lips were so close to her cold ones when she disappeared and he cried again. They couldn’t take her last wish. Eponine deserved more than that. Life had been cruel to her, why was death no sweeter?
“Marius”
Marius looked up, they were all there, all of them. Enjolras, Combferre, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Feuilly, Joly, Bahoral, Bossuet, Grantaire and… Gavroche. Enjolras was holding Eponine at the head of the group. Marius sobbed, all of them were covered in blood, too much blood. Enjolras was the only one who looked fine, as angelic as he always had. Even Grantaire… even Grantaire who held no belief in their cause was standing there in his place amidst the dead.
They seemed so far away even as they stood before him. He reached out his hands.
“Enjolras. Enjolras please…”
Enjolras glared at him. Not even concealing his wrath and loathing towards Marius.
“You deserted us. You deserted us for what? A bourgeois two-a-penny thing?”
Marius flinched at the harsh tone. All that was there was his friends before him. Cosette was not there. His friends were there and were all that mattered.
“Enjolras take me with you. Enjolras please…” he pleaded
“You put yourself first, we had a higher cause but you’re higher cause was some girl! You deserted us. You deserted France in her hour of need. I can not forgive you. No-one cares about you’re feelings now. How could one forgive a selfish and pitiful creature such as yourself,”
Marius wept. Les amis were moving away from him but their faces showed no sympathy. The had judged him and sentanced him. They hated him. But he couldn’t let them go. If he let them go now he would never see them again.
“Enjolras please… I’m sorry… take me with you,”
But Enjolras left and the other amis slowly followed him until it was just Marius and Courfeyrac, his bestfriend.
“Courf,”
Courfeyrac shook his head.
“Please Courf my bestfriend, I’m sorry,”
“We are not best friends. You left us. I can not love someone so selfish,”
“I didn’t mean to, I was willing to go with you,”
Courfeyrac rolled his eyes,
“Yet you didn’t, you let us die alone. You may as well of killed us over your pretty Cosette,”
Courfeyrac’s words were un naturally cruel for the normally warm man.
“Courfeyrac, I’m sorry, please, don’t leave me here. I did not intend for this,”
“Eponine died for you. You killed her. You killed us.”
Marius woke up in a cold sweat. He shot up and surveyed the room. He was no longer at the barricades but back safely in his own bed. It had been only a couple of days since he woke up. 6mths since the barricades.
He wept. He couldn’t believe that they were dead and yet they were. It wasn’t even that long ago that they were all drinking and laughing together, teasing him for his crush on the sweet Cosette. Now they were dead and gone. Even Grantaire was dead. Grantaire who had made it no secret he didn’t believe in what they were doing . Grantaire, cynical Grantaire, who’s rebutles and intoxicated speeches would never be heard again.
He wept bitter tears for the loss of his friends, each of them special and unique, each with so much to live for. Eponine to whom he had be more cruel to than he had intended. Eponine who had died for him. She shouldn’t have even been on the barricades, he’d sent her away to protect her. He sent her with the letter so that she could stay safe and yet she came back only to die to a ball ment for him. It was he who should have died. Him not her.
“I’m sorry Ponine,” he whispered, “ I should have done something to save you. I should have died instead,”
~Eponine reached forward, forgetting, “Marius no,” she whispered softly, “It was my choice. I wanted you to live,”
“He can’t hear you,” Enjolras remarked dryly in that infuriating frank tone, “There is no point and even if he could he would believe he was insane,”
“I don’t care,” Eponine glared, “He’s upset, and my friend. I have to try,”
“Who know’s maybe some part of him can hear us, even if it doesn’t recognise us,” Jehan said.
“He doesn’t look very comforted to me,” Grantaire remarked, “In fact he’s crying even more,”
“Grantaire!” Bahorel hissed, “You’ve made Ponine cry,”
It was true. Soft tears fell down the normally tough Eponine’s face in sorrow for her friend.~
A fresh bount of tears hit him just thinking of them. How was he to go on without them? If it were not for Cosette. Cosette who, ever since he’d woken up, had been nothing less than a blessing. She was so patient and compassionate. He did not know he had lived without her. He doubted he would be here if it weren’t for her.
And her father M. Fauchelevent had been welcoming and kind to Marius. Marius hadn’t expected Cosettes father to be so welcoming especially when Cosette and Marius announced their relationship to him. M. Fauchelevent had barely batted and eye, he certainly hadn’t seemed surprised, and he had welcomed Marius with open arms. Marius would be indepted to him. There had been the typical protective father speech which Marius did not doubt M. Fauchelevent would follow through if Marius gave him reason. Cosettes father was intimidating when he wanted to be, but he had finished his speech speaking of his faith in Marius and Marius had left the conversation feeling that he owed it not just to Cosette but to her father to always be at his best.
But moving on… While as happy and as perfect as he could have ever imagined his meeting with Cosettes father to be, it was wrong. It felt like he was living a stolen life. A life that had been stolen from his friends. A life the 11 of them should have shared. How great could marrying Cosette be (for he did intend to marry her) if Courfeyrac wasn’t there to be best man and Eponine as Maid of honour. And Combferre, Jehan and Joly as groomsmen and Musichetta as bridesmaid and Gavroche, sweet Gavroche would be ring bearer.
He could just picture it, with all his friends there. Enjolras shaking his head and muttering about the follies of love and Grantaire, Bossuet and Bahorel getting into all the wine and Feuilly would bring them a wonderful gift he’d have made with his own bare hands. It would’ve been just perfect.
But they were all dead. They’d miss it. They’d moved on and they’d left Marius behind. He was never going to see them ever again.
“They’re going to miss the wedding, our first child. They’re going to miss all of it,”
That thought alone made him weep all the more.
~ “You are an idiot Marius,” Courfeyrac whispered, unable to help himself, “Us being dead isn’t going to stop us from attending your wedding,”
“It might,” Grantaire said, “Who knows how long this last before we fade away into oblivion or hell or heaven or wherever we’re sent when we die. Probably hell if there is one, I don’t see a God wanting to share his heavenly kingdom with the likes of me. Unlike Apollo here who gets a straight ticket to paradise and martyrdom.”
“Death hasn’t changed you a bit,” Enjolras remarked coldly, “Still can’t accept that there’s any good for you in any world,”
“And my dear Apollo it hasn’t changed you either, you are still more radient than the sun.”
Enjolras glared and Grantaire laughed, “I was right all along. All you ever did was lead us to our deaths,”
“Do not make me shoulder the blame. You followed me willingly enough. You had pleanty of chance to walk away and yet you did not. They would never have noticed, they were all focused on me,”
“How could I walk away? I am not strong like Marius here, nor did I have anyone who loved me waiting for me like he has Cosette and M. Fauchlevent. I am nothing and without you I am something less than that,”~
He had Cosette, he had to remember that, but who was he without his friends? Without Courfeyrac to tease him, without Eponine to protect him, without Enjolras to scold him, or Combferre to advise? Who was he without them?
He was empty, sure he had Cosset, but how could she fill up all the holes that his friends had left. The holes that killed more than a bullet. The holes that were bigger and more painful than any wound. It wouldn’t fade. Angry and determind the pain went on and on. So fierce and intence he couldn’t speak of it. Even if he wanted to he couldn’t explain his grief.
It would only hurt sweet Cosette that no matter what she did, she could never erase the pain.
He laughed humorlessly, for all their aspirations the Revolution had achieved nothing. It had gone and taken everything with it. It had swept in and swept out leaving a path of carniage and dead bodies. The dawn that arose was the same dawn as there had always been. There was no new dawn.
Was the sacrifice worth it? All the Revolution had done was left him with a grief that couldn’t be spoken, and a pain that went on and on. What did he have aside from Cosette? His grandfather probably still hated him and his friends were dead and gone.
~ “Not worth it!” Enjolras fumed, his face flushed with anger, “We made a statement, the people know now the wrongs that have been done will not be tolerated. They well arise again, and who be the inspiration behind it but us! Wait and see, they will rise again and not just a handful of students but the whole of Paris. The whole of France! For Patria what are but a few insignificant lives compared to the lives of millions? Was the sacrifice worth it? Bah! Marius was always foolish, but this is mere folly!”
“He is merely upset,” Combferre tried to reason, placing his hand gently on Enjolras’s shoulder.
Grantaire scoffed, “We’re dead aren’t we? And Paris is still in ruins even now can you not admit the revolution was a fail? The people are selfish and cowardly, they did not help us, they are incapable of helping themselves,”
“You are just as incapable of anything as they are, if not more,” Enjolras glowered, words so cruely similar to the ones spoken so long ago, “You can not even believe,” ~
They had called for, had sung the sweet lyrics of a better future. A world where people could live, a better life for Eponine, Gavroche, even Marius himself. The tomorrow that never came. The flame of a brighter future extinguished by death.
Grief overcame him. Without really knowing what he was doing he rushed out of his room, he had to go back. Be there one last time. In the hallway he was met with Cosette.
“Marius where are you going? It’s the middle of the night,”
Marius paused, the voice of his sweet love stirring his veins, but even she was not strong enough to bury the pain. He couldn’t let her see his suffering, for a grief as strong as this would suffocate her also.
“Have no fear, my love. I will be back,” Gently he kissed her, “It is difficult to explain, but fear not I will be back. Now you father has allowed us our love, there is nothing that would prevent me from returning back to you.”
“Marius…” Cosette said, but he was already gone.
The agony guiding his step, Marius hurried through the rather empty streets of Paris. It was early morning, still dark. The only people who were about was theifs and beggers and the lone soul of a grieving man.
~”Oh Marius, mon ami,” Courfeyrac mummered to himself, “Do not torture yourself so. Go home to your beautiful Cosette and forget about us. She loves you, do not take that love lightly,”
Eponine shook her head, “Idiot, what could he be thinking!” She muttered under her breath, “We are dead and can no longer feel pain. He is alive and can. They will tear him to pieces”
“He’s still injured, if he stays out in that cold he will catch a fever, or die of from the cold, whichever comes first,” Joly fretted, “At best he will tear his stitches and get an infection,”
“Marius will always be a fool,” Enjolras said,
“We can not prevent Marius from being stupid,” Grantaire said, “As Archelllies welcomed the battle that killed him, Marius will do as he pleases, he will not be watching his heel either. What is death to a man who’s friends are are dead. They will kill him and then we can enjoy listening to him complaining about missing his darling Cosette,” Thick and bitter his words stung, inflicting the pain the sorry soul was feeling at the pain of his friend.
Feuilly shook his head, “Has death turned us all cynical? He may be blinded by grief, but he will watch his step. Marius may be a fool, but his foolishness has not yet got him killed.” ~
Marius found himself standing in the doorway of the Musain, the place was abandoned now. It seemed untouched since the battle sans blood. Even with the blood washed away it still seemed bloodied to Marius.
The walls were riddled with bullets and holes where the balls had gone right through. The battle was still present here. Gently he reached out and grazed his fingures of one ball that had lodged its self into the wall.
Which one had it passed through? Joly? Bossuet? Feuily? Courfeyrac?
The first tears swept his cheeks, his amis. Dead. Dead and gone.
Trance-like, he climbed the stairs to the little room where there meetings had been held. Where they’d all drunk and made merry and plotted a revolution. Enjolras powerful, singing of a world reborn. Where Bahorel and Grantier had drinking contests and Grantaire and Enjolras would fight. Some of the most treasured memories were made in this room. Eponine telling him she’d found Cosette, Grantaire mocking him for falling in love, Courfeyrac persistant and teasing because Maruis was smitten… and the list could go on. The memories cost little, but was worth a lot. So rich and pure, marred by grief.
Only a few of the tables and chairs still remained, most of them tossed or broken. Only one remained the same, a little table at the back of the room. Heck it was still littered with wine caskets. Marius could picture Grantaire sitting there and drinking, but the chair was empty. Grantaire was dead and gone. A fresh wave of tears fell down Marius’s face as he crumpled in the corner and cried.
~ Grantaire shamefully turned his face away, he’d slept off his inebriation on the table, he’d failed to help his friends and they had all die, and then, when given the opportunity, he had taken the cowards way out and joined them in death. The table and wine caskets served to remind him of the failure, the waste he had been alive. Ironically, it was in death that he never could’ve have craved a drink more.
Of their little number, he was the only one who didn’t deserve to have his names listed with those of the mytars and saints, or in the case of Enjolras, with those of the Gods. He drifted to the table and traced the edge of it.
“’Taire…” ~
It was so empty here now. Memories faded in and out around him only served to make the place emptier. Would the pain ever go away? Marius didn’t know. Their fate was to die and his was to suffer the pain that lasted for enternity. The pain that just went on and on. Pain that would last longer than his friends ever did.
He lifted his head from his tear soaked hands. “Forgive me, Forgive me,” he moaned, “It is not fair that I live while you are gone,”
~ Courfeyrac cracked, “If this is heaven then send me to hell, I can not bare to see him in pain any longer,” He cried turning away from Maruis.
“He is greiving,” Combeferre said, “Seeking reprise where none need be given.”
“We made our choice,” Enjolras stated moving to the window and staring out at the city, “He should by happy we were so fortunate to die in such an honorable manner,”
“We didn’t achieve anything,” Grantaire joined him, “The people still live in the gutter,”
“We gave them hope,” Enjolras turned the dawn sun shining through the window and bathing him in gold, “They will rise again and there will be no stopping them.”
~
A flicker of movement caught Marius’s eyes through the tears and he looked up. He could have sworn he’d seen a shadow crossing his path, but it was just the rising sun shining through the window. He looked around, the first golden rays of the new sun gave the room an errie feeling and it felt even lonelier than before.
Another flicker of movement caught his eye and he turned his head again, he could have sworn he’d seen a shadow moving behind him, but again there was nothing there. A phantom shadow that was all. He turned his head to the window and suddenly he could see them. He could see them all.
They were surrounding him, Enjolras, Grantaire by the window. Combeferre, Feuilly and Jean Pouvaire were standing by the stairs. Bahoral, Bossuet, Joly, Gavroche were sitting at the table in front of him. And Courfeyrac and Eponine stood together right on his left.
He had to be hallucinating, there was no way they could possibly be there. They didn’t even look real. They were trasparent, like looking at a reflection in the mirror. They were all staring at him, Enjolras stern, Grantaire melocachony, Combeferre patient, Feuilly thoughtful, Jeahan dreamy, Joly somber, Bahoral proud, Gavroche cheekily grinning, Bossuet in his normal good humour, Eponine tough façade that she had worn through life had slipped and she looked more mellow and sadder. Only Courfeyrac wasn’t looking at him. His back was turned and his shoulders shaking.
“Courf, I’m so sorry. Whatever I’ve done to offend you, don’t turn your back on me,” He said without thinking, without realising he was talking to an illusion. Forgetting it wasn’t really Courfeyrac he was seeing but a mirage.
~ Les Amis froze, this was the first time since the barricades that Marius had seen them.
“Impossible,” Bahoral breathed, “He can’t see us,”
“Only the dying should see the dead,” Joly panicked, “His head wound is infected and he’s come here to join us in death.”
“Maybe Marius has finally gone off the cracker,” Grantaire shrugged, “and he’s hallucinating,”
“Only one way to find out,” Eponine said, turning her back on Marius and moving away from him,”
~
Marius couldn’t explain it, but a tension seemed to seep into the room, their mouths seemed to move as if they were talking but all he could hear was the whisper of the breezed. Then suddenly Eponine turned around and started walking away from him.
Marius wept. Les amis were moving away from him but their faces showed no sympathy. The had judged him and sentanced him. They hated him. But he couldn’t let them go. If he let them go now he would never see them again.
“Enjolras please… I’m sorry… take me with you,”
But Enjolras left and the other amis slowly followed him until it was just Marius and Courfeyrac, his bestfriend.
Marius shook the nightmare from his mind. This was the same, but so so so much worse. “No! Please, Ponine, don’t leave me.” He said frantically, breaking down and collapsing onto the floor, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Please forgive me,”
And through tears he saw Eponine freeze.
~ “You can see me?” She whispered, slowly Courfeyrac turned around as well.
“He can see us?”
“Mon Dieu! Marius!”
“Can he hear us as well ? Marius!”
Whispers of excitement rose between les amis.A chance to say goodbye. A chance, for one last time, to be Les Amis de l’ABC.
~
Marius glanced round them all, they were speaking, that much he knew, the room had dropped a few degrees cooler and there was a constant whispering in the room but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. It certainly wasn’t French, it sounded like the howls of the wind rather than words and syllables.
“I’m sorry, my friends, I can’t hear you,” He said, “Well- I can – sorta, you sound the wind – I can’t under – I want to – I just… uh… yeah. Am I dying?” He was tripping over his words. Great. Here he was given a chance to say goodbye and he was falling over himself to get a single proper sentence out.
~ Les amis stared sadly back at Marius. Nobody knew what to do or say now that they knew he couldn’t hear them. What could they do? They couldn’t touch him, they’d go straight through. They couldn’t comfort him either and who knew as to why he could see them now and not before. Perhaps there was a magic in the dawn. But the dawn would soon be over and they could feel themselves being pulled with it
~
The sun was rising even higher and Marius could see that they were beginning to fade now as the sun strengthened. He felt a stab of panic as he realised there was a clock ticking on their time together.
“Forgive me. I should be there with you,” He took a shakey breath wiping tears from his eyes, “ Yet I live and you are gone.”
~
“Marius, live.” Courfeyrac said, even though he knew Marius couldn’t understand him. “Live your life for us,”
“We fought for freedom, for everyone to have the opportunity to live in happiness.” Combeferre added, “We may not have freed France, but you have the opportunity to live in happiness. If you don’t take that opportunity what was our sacrifice for?”
“Perhaps you will lead France into freedom from the spark of Revolution we have created.” Enjolras suggested, albit hopefully.
“We probably put them off,” Grantaire muttered, “Him and the other dissillusioned fools that faught with us, almost certainly will not be so ready to take up weapons with the price still in their heads. Blood is a costly price for freedom,”
“But freedom is worth everything it costs,” Enjolras argued back, “There is nothing greater than to be free,”
~
Marius let out a small smile, even though he couldn’t understand what was being said. He almost certainly knew Enjolras and Grantaire were bickering again. It was nice to see some things hadn’t changed. Neither had France though, it was just emptier of 11 wonderful people. The 11 people who had loved France the most had been killed by her whilst fighting to liberate her. What had it been worth? France had not changed, had the lives of his friends been worth nothing? Their sacrifice not bloody enough for Eutopia, the hypocript who employed the methods of the past to secure the future, then didn’t show.
“Don’t ask me,” he whispered, “What your sacrifice was for. I do not know. If any good has come of your deaths I do not see it. It is a darker world now you are gone.”
~
They were silent. Those words were heavy amoungst les amis. Even Enjolras did not speak against them. Maruis wasn’t talking of the fight for France’s freedom anymore, he was speaking selfishly. Unconsicously he was saying ‘I don’t know if your death was worth it. Your lives weigh heavily on me and as bright as Cosette has made my world losing my most precious friends have dimmed it. I miss you,” and what could you say to that?
The light was rising higher now. They could feel a strange pull and they knew. It was time to go. Slowly in pairs and groups they were pulled toward the window and up into the sun,
~
They were starting to disappear now. The rising sun was swallowing them up. And somehow Marius knew… this was the end. This was the final goodbye.
It was bittersweet, to see them go as each stopped and waved or smiled or mouthed goodbye into the wind for him. When it came to be Enjolras and Grantaire’s turn to say goodbye they turned together and linked hands, something he’d never would have imagined them doing alive. The silence stretched between them, then Enjolras nodded.
Marius had never felt Enjolras had truly liked him in life, their opinions had always differed, and then he’d ditched meetings to ‘see’ Cosette which Enjolras had never approved. When he’d faught at the barricade he felt he had mended that bridge somewhat. But he’d never had Enjolras approval. Until now.
He nodded back. And Enjolras smiled and raised his hand clutching the flag as he was absorbed into the sunlight. Grantaire winked and then he too was gone.
All that was left now was Courfeyrac and Eponine. His two dearest friends.
It was then that he heard a soft voice calling “Marius? Are you here?” Cosette. Her sound startled him and he knocked against one of the chairs. “Marius,”
“I-I’ll be down soon,” he called down to her, “I- just – I have to – I want to clean up?”
Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows an amused smirk on his face. Marius knew the man-ghost? Was laughing at him. Eponine was smiling too, but her smile was sader. It always had been sader, it wasn’t until she’d died that he’d really realised just how sad the girl had been.
So he turned to Courfeyrac and started with him since he was easier.
“My beloved friend. My brother. Thank you. For everything. My only regret is I was not grateful enough.”
Courfeyrac smiled and shook his head, he lay a chilly ghost hand on Marius’s shoulder and said something, but it still only sounded like a whisper of the wind. Then he was gone, joining the others in whereever they had be taken to.
There was none left but Eponine. The hardest to face.
“Ponine,” he whispered, the tears falling silently (again), “I’m so so sorry. I had no idea. Please believe me. If I could have healed you with words of love I would have, believe that. If I’d only known,”
Eponine was shaking her head, tears were on her cheeks. It was the first time he’d ever seen the girl cry.
“I’m sorry. I love you, just not in the way you wanted me to,”
Eponine smiled and raised a hand pointing to something behind Marius. He turned to see Cosette emerging up the top of the stairs. By the time he turned back, Eponine was gone.
“Marius, who were you talking to?”
“Them,” He said, still crying but with a smile on his face, “They forgive me,”
“Come Marius you are still delirious, lets get you home,” Cosette said grabbing his arm and helping him walk as the energy seemed to drain out of him, “You nearly gave papa and I a scare, not to mention your grandfather,”
“I wanted to say goodbye,”
“I know you did sweetheart ,” Cosette wiped some stray hair out of his face, “You shouldn’t fret about it, your friends are happy and free now.”
Marius smiled, tiredly, how did she know?
“Cosette?”
“Yes?”
“Who was it that saved me at the barricade and brought me back to you?”
“Don’t think about it Marius. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day,”
And for a brief second he felt he could see his friends one last time standing in the sunbeams smiling and waving goodbye.
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me, that I live and you are gone. There’s a grief that can’t be spoken, there’s a pain goes on and on
Phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor. Empty chairs at empty tables, now my friends will meet no more.
Oh my friends, my friends, don’t ask, what you’re sacrifice was for. Empty chairs at empty tables, where my friends will sing no more.