Stuck in the Crossfire (Tag:Marius, Combe, Feuilly

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine had always had this quality about her. In tense emergency situations, she closed off the part of her that wanted to panic and focused singularly on the task at hand. She wasn't sure where she had picked it up or who had taught it to her, but it was an invaluable piece of herself for the life she led. It had helped her keep a cool head every time one of her father's plans had gone horribly awry or the police nearly caught her in the middle of a scheme. It kept her from tripping over own feet in a pursuit and made her turn down just the right alleys and streets to lose her pursuers, whether they were police, Guard, or her father's gang.

So when the shots rang out around her and the parade turned from peaceful gathering to panicked riot, Eponine did not do what so many of her sex did. She did not scream or faint or find a man to shield her. She prided herself on being made of tougher stuff. Instead her mind began focusing on getting through the chaotic crowd and never losing her grip on Marius's hand. Her bare feet slapped against the pavement as she dragged him behind her, weaving in and out of bystanders, starting and stopping to avoid being run over. Eponine was sure if she fell, she wouldn't be able to get back to her feet before she was trampled under the parade-goers.

Eponine craned her neck, trying to see through the fleeing crowd as she ran. She knew there was an entrance to the catacombs nearby, but she didn't know its exact location. She strained to see if she could find Mylene in the crush, having long since lost sight of her. Already, she was sure she and Marius had stayed in the street too long. The police and Guard were moving in, trying to contain the pandemonium, and Eponine did not want to find herself or Marius caught in the crossfire. Searching the edges of the street she saw a narrow alleyway, just past some Guardsmen. With a tug on Marius's hand she shouted at him. "This way!" Now she just had to get them past the officers without either of them being recognized or stopped.

[CHRISTOPHE FEUILLY]

Things had gone from bad to worse, and Feuilly knew that if he did not get away from the scene, he would be crushed and trampled on like anyone else. The Friends of the ABC had scattered, and, seeing Eponine grab Marius' hand, he determined to follow them. The thought shot almost illogically through his head that if he fell and his hands were trod upon, even if he was not trampled to death he would be unable to work.

He knew that Eponine would lead Marius by the safest path she knew. He also knew that most exits familiar to him would be blocked by guards, and the panicked crowd would begin to churn dangerously. Already had begun to churn. Careful not to be knocked into from an unexpected angle, he turned slightly toward Combeferre, silently willing him to realize they should follow.

To maneuver through the crowd made him feel like a child, darting through the legs of adults as he either carried out or tried to escape from his duties. The adrenaline kept him going, prevented him from stopping to think too much about what had actually happened back there. Someone had been killed, and there had been no reason.

This was how revolutions began. They weren't ready. Their plans weren't fully laid, their supporters had not yet been rallied. Excitement and fear mixed together, but first they simply had to get to a safe place to regroup. Part of him hoped that Enjolras at least would already have some plan. He would have turned to Combeferre to ask if he had one, but he knew two things.

First, that Combeferre likely did not want to think too much about the violent side of revolution. He therefore likely would not have developed much of a plan for that eventuality. Second, it would require a shout to be heard over the din of the crowd. And that absolutely was not a safe course of action with the National Guard out in force.

For one brief moment he considered finding a different path between the guards and into the alley, but he knew that if he did that he would lose Eponine and Marius. Eponine knew the Paris streets better than any of them, he suspected. That was their best chance, now that Mylene and Courfeyrac had already left. He shot another glance at Combeferre, hoping he knew to follow.

[Deleted]

Combeferre tried to subdue the rage and shock that coursed through his veins after what had just occurred. An innocent woman had been shot dead by the National Guard during a peaceful protest. Of course the Patron-Minette had come and started a street fight, but the woman had had nothing to do with it. They had no reason to fire into the crowd, and yet they did, and an undeserving bystander had been killed. He had little time to grieve or lash out in anger, because the crowd had immediately dispersed, and, catching sight of Eponine—for he had remembered, having forgotten in the chaos of the moment—and proposed to Feuilly that they follow her and Marius through the streets, since they seemed to know where they were going.

He was not lost, but his mind was too clouded to think properly. What did this mean for the ABC? All of them could be potentially wanted men because of what had happened, so they all would have to lie low for the time being. He feared that Enjolras would propose they take to the streets immediately. Although he was enraged at what the National Guard had done, he did not believe that this would be the right course of action. More innocent bystanders could die, as well as many on both sides. Combeferre abhorred weapons and had refused to hold a gun, even at the meetings. Would he be willing to take up arms when the time came?

He almost missed Feuilly’s urgent look and nodded, walking briskly behind him and brushing his way past people as he manuevered through the massive horde of people. They needed to get to the meeting place as soon as possible. Had Enjolras gotten out alright? And what about Courfeyrac? He worried about both of his friends, but he tried not to let the worry take control of his mind. He needed to think of what they were going to do next. He had honestly never thought it would come to this. When he had helped found the group, it had not been initially to take up arms against the government. But as things got worse, Les Amis de l’ABC had evolved. At one point, Combeferre threatened to leave, but Enjolras’s rhetoric and Courfeyrac’s friendship kept him there just as it always did. And this time he was almost certain that both would keep him rooted to where he stood. He could not—and would not—abandon his friends in their time of need.

His heart pounded in his chest when he saw the officers and he surreptitiously removed the cockade from his jacket, stuffing it into the pocket of his trousers. He belatedly realized that he indeed should have brought his hat so that his face would not have been recognized. He turned up the collar of his jacket as he increased his pace a little, keeping his eyes fixed on the woman’s dark hair so not to lose track of her. A few minutes later he was falling into step behind the pair wordlessly, deciding that it was better not to speak at this point so not to draw attention to themselves.