Author's Note: So, this is it! The final installment to my first Les Mis fanfic. I just want to take this opportunity to say a big thank you to every single one of my readers, especially judybear236 for taking the time to proof read my work and help me improve my writing along the way. This definitely won't be the last of my Les Mis work; there is already another story in the works. Watch this space!

Back at the barricades, the fight was intensifying. The French Guard were fast approaching, the grinding sound of their cannons rolling on the cobbles growing in momentum. Enjolras, Marius and their student comrades were bracing themselves. Their opponents were larger and possessed a grander supply of ammunition capable of killing dozens of men in a matter of minutes. They were going up against men with simply bullets and brutal force. But strangely, Marius didn't feel afraid. He had abandoned all thought of fear. If he was to die, he would die proud to have been defending his beliefs, his country. He would fulfill his promise to his dear Cosette and die for her.

Suddenly, an eerie hush fell upon the barricade. The roar of the canons had ceased, the building crescendo of rhythmic marching from the French Guard dissipated. It was almost as if both sides had fallen quiet in a moment of self-contemplation. A moment taken to send up a prayer.

Peace before the storm.

It was then that Enjolras heard movement from behind him and simultaneously his men turned and brandished their bayonets. The perpetrator came as a surprise. The man, evidently upper class from his fine clothing, silently raised his hands . He looked Enjolras in the eye.

"I simply come to you to help. I mean no harm. The French," he nodded his head towards the barricade, in indication, "are just a few streets away."

Enjolras hesitated to further scrutinize the man. If he spoke truth, the snippet of information would prove valuable. There wasn't much time to spare. A moment past before he sighed and passed Monsieur Madeleine a musket.

"Take this and use it well! But shoot us in the back and let me assure you, you won't live to tell!"

A group of students who were on the lookout suddenly broke the peace.

"Platoon of sappers advancing towards the barricade!"

"Troops behind them, fifty men or more!"

Turning to face Marius, he gave a grave nod. This was it.

He gave the command.

"Fire!"

The events that ensued were now a blur to Marius; as vague as a child's painting in his mind. The cracks of gunfire, the sweet hot metal smell of gunpowder residue, splashes of crimson. It had all unraveled at such a disorienting speed that now even recalling it overwhelmed him. As he sat alone in the deserted Le Café Musain, Marius glanced around. This had been the meeting place for Les Amis de l'ABC. It had been where they had shared their passion, organised the construction of the barricade, enjoyed a couple of drinks. This very room had once been alive with cheers, chants, music, laughter. Now, it was hushed like a crypt. Everyone who had participated in the meetings had sacrificed themselves for their cause. Combeferre. Grantaire. Feuilly. Courfeyrac. Joly. Enjolras. Even young Gavroche had fallen prey to the French Guard. Then, there was Éponine. God, Éponine.

Now, the tears flowed quick and easy. He had never felt so alone; so desolate and empty. It was then a soft, delicate hand rested upon his shoulder. Cosette gazed at Marius with sympathetic eyes. She had once seen how bleak and cruel the world could be and now Marius was in the thick of it. Yet, as Marius lifted his eyes to meet hers, she saw a glimmer of light. A flicker of hope still lay there burning and it burned for her. To Marius, Cosette was his everything. If they had not been destined to be, he would not still be sitting here. He still had a purpose.

One sun may have set on the students of the revolution, but another was rising for him. And for Cosette.