The City That We Loved

Threatened

Combeferre had sent Feuilly and Jehan to go get food for the rest of the Amis. Enjolras felt hungry but he didn't feel like eating. Not now. Not after watching his friend die. He was very aware of the gun behind him. He even started to question whether it was a good idea or not.

No, they'll pay, he thought, stopping the doubt in it's tracks. It's for Bahorel. And Patria. But mostly, Bahorel.

Enjolras just wished he'd been conscious when Bahorel had been shot so he could've seen who had shot him. But there had been dozens of witnesses so finding out who the murderer was wouldn't be a huge problem. He would have to find a way to get away from the Amis, too. He had a feeling Courfeyrac and Combeferre would be keeping a close eye on him, especially after that argument with Grantaire.

But the stupid drunk deserved it.

"Anyone else hear that?" Courfeyrac asked, all of a sudden. Enjolras looked up, raising his eyebrows. He listened and hear the distinct sound of footsteps.

"Could be Jehan and Feuilly?" Marius said, finally speaking up since Bahorel's death.

"I told them to come from the other direction," Combeferre explained. "There's a man hole closer that way." Enjolras was just about to reach behind and grab the gun when the person stepped out into the light.

"Duval?" Enjolras said, dropping his hand. "You were freed, too?"

"You and your amis did a good job of freeing half the people from the prison," Duval said. "And, sadly, not just the innocents."

"Who's this, Enjolras?" Combeferre asked.

"His name's Duval," Enjolras responded. "Didn't...you guys meet him in the prison? You know, when he was delivering messages to you?" Combeferre looked at the other Amis who all looked very confused.

"We've never met this man before, Enjolras," Courfeyrac said. Enjolras looked at Duval and raised his eyebrows.

"Is this true? Did you make up everything you told me?" Enjolras asked.

"Enjolras, they wouldn't let me near them," Duval explained. "They knew I was your bunkmate and they didn't want me saying anything to them. I saw what you went through and I didn't think you could handle anymore worry." Enjolras was still suspicious of Duval's intentions but just shrugged.

"Whatever," Enjolras said. "Make yourself at home." Combeferre pulled his brows together and looked at Enjolras. This was unlike him.

Duval walked over to Enjolras and gave him a warm smile.

"Sorry about lying to you, Enjolras," Duval said. "I just thought the stress of worrying about your friends would kill you."

"What I don't get is why you care so much," Enjolras said.

"I'm human being, that's why I care," Duval responded. "I may have been accused of murdering my entire family but I didn't. I have a conscience." Enjolras chewed the inside of his cheeks and stared at Duval, thinking about whether to give him the benefit of the doubt or not.

Jehan and Feuilly showed up with grocery bags filled with food.

"I normally don't like using plastic grocery bags but I'll make an exception for you guys," Jehan said, handing the bag over to Courfeyrac who gasped when he looked in the bag.

"Aw, Jehan!" he exclaimed. "You got gummy worms...you're the best." Courfeyrac took the box of gummy worms out of the bag and handed the rest of it to Combeferre. Combeferre and Feuilly handed out the food to everyone.

"Want anything, Enjolras?" Combeferre asked his friend. Enjolras shook his head, avoiding eye contact. "You need to eat."

"Then why did you ask me if I wanted something?" Enjolras asked. He looked at Combeferre, cocking an eyebrow.

"I was just being polite," Combeferre said. "But, fine, if you don't want anything you can go hungry."

"Fine." Combeferre sighed and looked at Duval.

"Mind handing out the rest?" he asked. Duval nodded and continued to do Combeferre's job. "It wasn't your fault, Enjolras, despite what Grantaire said. He didn't mean it, he was just a little tipsy from that bottle of whiskey he swallowed so quickly."

"He meant it," Enjolras said. "And he was right. Had I not started this idiotic idea of freedom, we wouldn't have been arrested and Bahorel wouldn't have been shot."

"You didn't hold the gun, Enjolras. The person who held the gun is the only one at fault here," Combeferre said. "The only time I've seen you with a gun was months ago." Montparnasse's gun tucked into Enjolras' jeans burned against his skin under the fresh shirt Joly had retrieved for him the night before. "You aren't at fault here so you can stop feeling guilty and being a jerk, and start being my best friend, again."

Enjolras' eyes of ice melted a little bit.

It wasn't just because what Combeferre was saying to him warmed his heart but because he was feeling guilty for what he was going to do. Combeferre had specifically said no to seeking revenge and Enjolras was going to go behind his back and do just that.

"I'd like that, too, 'Ferre," Enjolras said, managing a small smile.

"Good," Combeferre said. "How is your back feeling?"

"Pain meds would help but seeing as we are in a sewer, I don't think that's going to happen," Enjolras said. Combeferre chuckled, half heartedly.

"Next time we send someone out, we'll get them to get you some medicine," Combeferre said.

"Thank you."

"You sure you don't want anything to eat?" Enjolras shook his head. "Okay..." Combeferre walked off to help Joly with something. Enjolras couldn't stop thinking about how betrayed Combeferre would be if he went ahead and did this, but he knew he had to avenge Bahorel somehow.

"You know, if you keep looking like that, your buddies are going to suspect something's up," Montparnasse said, walking over to him.

"I'm sorry for thinking," Enjolras responded. "You should try it sometime."

"Sorry, M. Asshole," 'Parnasse muttered. He sat down next to Enjolras. He got really close to his face and whispered, "I've seen your friend around."

"Not surprised," Enjolras muttered. "Maybe you shared a cell with him one time."

"No, Gabe," Montparnasse said. "I've seen him before because he's arrested me before." Enjolras looked at Montparnasse wide eyes.

"He's a...?" Montparnasse nodded. Enjolras got to his feet faster than you'd expect an injured man to. He pulled the gun out of the waistband of his jeans and aimed it at Duval.

"Jesus Christ, Enjolras!" Combeferre exclaimed. "Where the hell did you get that?"

"Forget that, why are you aiming it at Duval?" Courfeyrac asked. Duval's back was to Enjolras. He caught Duval's hand reaching for something last minute.

"Don't," Enjolras warned. "Do it and I'll shoot."

"You won't do that in front of your friends," he said.

"Wanna bet?" Suddenly, Enjolras had a gun aimed at him. Duval had spun around, a gun aimed at Enjolras' head. "Everything I told you, you went off and told Javert or whoever, didn't you? Or are you important enough to report right to King Charles? I doubt it. Rats are usually at the bottom of the food chain, aren't they?"

Duval didn't seem very happy with this comment.

"Enjolras, don't shoot him," Combeferre said. "There are other ways we can deal with this." Enjolras blocked out Combeferre's voice. He narrowed his icy blue eyes, staring into Duval's empty ones.

"Did you shoot Bahorel?" he asked. Duval remained silent. "If you didn't, we'll take you captive. If you did, well then, it's going to hurt a lot." Duval still didn't respond. "Tell me!"

"No! I didn't shoot your damn friend," Duval said. "But hell, if that gets you this angry, I wish I had."

And a shot rang out.