Lights Will Guide You Home | Enjolras & Les Amis | G

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Lights Will Guide You Home | Enjolras & Les Amis | G

Postby Sarahbob » Thu Aug 15, 2013 9:02 am

Enjolras loses an important part of his life, but finds solace and comfort in his friends. They will always be there for him. They are his lights; they will guide him and they will fix him. They are his family. Modern AU one-shot. Inspired by the song 'Fix You' by Coldplay.

Lights Will Guide You Home

It had all gone so fast. That fateful phone call; the hospital visit; the goodbyes; the funeral. And it had all passed in some sort of haze for a certain young blonde student.

Five days ago, his father called him – which was rare in itself – and Enjolras immediately knew something was wrong. He had that kind of feeling where your stomach turnes itself into a tight knot and every nerve in your body is on edge. He and his friends were in Café Musain at that moment and they had been in the middle of a meeting.

Seeing it was his father who called, Enjolras had excused himself for a moment, so he could speak to the person in question privately. It was a short phone call. His father was blunt and straight to the point. Your mother was in a car accident. She's in the hospital; the doctors say she won't survive the night. She wants you to come and say goodbye.

Enjolras had been in some sort of shock ever since. He had walked into the backroom again, where his friends were laughing and drinking. At seeing Enjolras' face, they had immediately known something was wrong. He had told them; almost without emotion – being in shock could do that to you. Only those who knew Enjolras to the core, noticed the slight tremor in his voice and the rapid swallows.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac went with him to the hospital in Rouen, where Enjolras had grown up and where his parents were still living. He had hardly spoken to his friends during the two hour car drive. He had been lost in thought, although at the same time, he wasn't really thinking about anything. He couldn't really believe what was happening. It felt as if he was living a dream and the real him was just standing by, watching it all happen but not really being a part of it.

He had seen his mother; he had spoken to her. She said her goodbyes, he tried to do the same. But words did not come to him. He – Enjolras, the student most famous at University for his passionate speeches – had been at a loss for words. He had hugged his mother. He had kissed her. He had shed a tear or two and he and his father had stayed with her until she died.

Then the funeral had to be planned, which was done by his mother's best friend. She had tried to include Enjolras in the planning of the ceremony, but he had not wanted to be part of it. He couldn't. Instead, he had spent the time with his two close friends; mostly just sitting and doing nothing. What was there to do? Combeferre and Courfeyrac tried to talk to him; help him open up, but Enjolras felt as if he was in some sort of trance. Time passed; people passed; but he was standing still and tried desperately to get a grip on the situation.

The funeral was beautiful. All the Amis were there; there were family members and family friends. People held speeches; people cried; there was music. Enjolras sat in the front and stared blankly ahead. He didn't speak, he didn't cry. He hardly acknowledged those who came to condole him. He hardly even spoke to his father; they had never been close and they didn't have anything in common; even in grief, they could not find each other. And everyone knew that.

After the funeral, Enjolras and his father had said their own goodbyes. Father went back to his mansion in the countryside, while son returned to his shared apartment in Paris. And that's where all the Amis were gathered now.


It was the evening of the funeral and no one wanted to leave their dear friend just yet. He could sometimes look like marble; but every now and then, the cracks were more than clear and tonight they were slowly making their appearance. And even though he did not speak; and even though he hardly looked at them, they all knew their presence was highly appreciated.

They sat together in the small living room, sprawled across chairs and couches. Bahorel made coffee, while Feuilly ordered something to eat. Joly, Marius and Bossuet were quietly looking through one of the childhood photo albums that Enjolras had brought back with him from Rouen. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were each seated next to Enjolras on the couch, silently keeping him grounded just by being there with him. And Jehan listened dreamily to Grantaire, who was strumming calm melodies on his guitar.

No one really spoke and so it shocked all of them a little when Grantaire suddenly began to sing. He had been playing the same melody for a while now. Enjolras had recognized it at once; since it was one of his favourite songs. He had been listening for at least four minutes to the intro of Fix You and he was trying to decide if he enjoyed it or if he should kindly ask Grantaire to stop. Just as he chose to do the second, Grantaire started singing; soft and beautiful, but without looking up.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

Enjolras' eyes darted over towards the cynic and he found it suddenly necessary to blink rapidly. As he listened to the words – sung in a voice holding so much emotion Enjolras had never thought possible – he felt one hand gently squeezing the nape of his neck and another one entwining with his own fingers; holding tight.

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something, you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Enjolras looked around the room slowly. Everyone seemed to listen intently to the words and tunes of Grantaire. He met a few eyes, which were shining with sympathy and compassion and he tried to smile at them, but that proved to be very difficult as the corners of his mouth kept turning downwards. So he looked away and ducked his head instead.

The first lump formed in his throat at the beginning of the refrain – where Jehan joined in with Grantaire. Their voices combined beautifully.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Enjolras eyes met Grantaire's over those last three words and a sharp pain tore through his heart. Memories of his mother suddenly clouded his vision. Memories of a time long ago; where he was still a child, worry free. He remembered the times he went with her to the park. Or when they went out to get ice cream. He remembered his first real fight with his father and the way she tried to console him. He remembered how she helped him with his homework and how she learned him about the lack of equality in the world. He remembered how she loved him with all her heart and how he loved her right back.

And high up above, or down below
When you're too in love, to let it go
But if you never try, you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

His breathing became more irregular and he felt Combeferre's hand tightening around his fingers. Tears filled his eyes; but they would not yet fall. Not yet. He did squeeze back with all his might and tried to swallow the lump in his throat that threatened to grow larger.

When Grantaire came to the instrumental part of the song, the first few tears made their way down his cheeks. They were soundless and sad, and yet they were beautiful. He wasn't ashamed. Not now. He felt loved here and Grantaire's song touched him in more ways than he could probably describe. They were his friends; they were the family he still had and needed, now that that one vital part of his real family was no longer there.

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

He was now crying more persistently, though there were still barely any sounds coming from him. His eyes were squeezed shut and he had curled in on himself ever so slightly. His heart ached and his knuckles turned white as he squeezed Combeferre's hand desperately. Courfeyrac and Combeferre had moved closer to him; neither one of them loosened their hold. Silent tears glistened on the faces of Jehan, Joly and Marius. Bahorel and Feuilly carried a sad smile while they listened to Grantaire and the young poet.

Grantaire only looked up again at the last three sentences. His eyes locked with Enjolras and he tried his best to bring over the message he so desperately wanted his friend to know. We are here for you.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

At the same moment that Grantaire sang his last line, Combeferre leaned in and whispered in Enjolras' ear. You're not alone, Julien. And that was all it took. The blonde broke down and when the music ended, all that could be heard were the sad cries of Enjolras. He still was not sobbing; not really, although he could not hold back the occasional gasp.

He leaned towards his roommate and Combeferre held him tight and softly kissed the top of his head. No one said anything. They were all quiet and looked either at the two best friends with compassion and grief, or they sought comfort with each other. It was a sad day; but it was a beautiful day as well. A day where they were once again reminded of the strong bond they all shared. It was a reminder that they would always have each other.

And Enjolras did not mind they saw him cry. For once, he did not care that his friends were witness of his breakdown. Because he knew he was allowed to. He knew they would not judge. He knew he was not alone and he knew he would get through this.

They were his lights. They would guide him. And they would fix him every time he needed fixing.

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Aurelia Combeferre
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Re: Lights Will Guide You Home | Enjolras & Les Amis | G

Postby Aurelia Combeferre » Thu Aug 15, 2013 9:49 am

This is really touching. Brava!!
"...all aptitudes having equal opportunity; politically, all votes having equal weight; religiously, all consciences having equal rights."

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