Hello Lovelies! Fast update right? I hope you're all enjoying the barricade story.. though I'd love to hear more thoughts about it, so please leave a comment or review :) It means a lot :) Quotes (and only in the case of the first paragraph where its recap) are in italics.

Anyhoo, here it goes! Chapter 2!

Warning: nothing too bad here! (that's a first ;) )

Disclaimer: I own only my ideas, the lyrics are Claude's and the Characters are Victor's


Chapter 2: The Rally

Enjolras looked Bahorel dead in the eye and told the group of his brilliant plan.

"We're going to build a barricade."

It was probably at this point that Combeferre should've stopped his friend. Gently led him to the countless history books that litter their flat and flip to the small insert on the student led uprising of 1832. An event that unfortunately Enjolras admired greatly. But Combeferre wasn't entirely focused on the woes and issues of the students at university this week, which was unfortunate, but it wasn't the court's fault for putting the deadlines for adoption papers the very same week. Alright, Combeferre took partial responsibility when the court gave him nearly three weeks to fill these papers out, but there were always something else, well someone else distracting him.

It was supposed to be a surprise, and it still would be these adoption papers would be the first step in a long battle for Éponine to finally have custody of her little brother.

He had been planning this for a very long time, ever since they rescued her from that hellhole they once called home. No sooner had they involved police and hospitals were the Thénardier children swarmed and split amongst the various foster programs around the area. Éponine was eighteen and therefore no longer a problem to the state. Azelma who was now approaching sixteen had been put with a fairly supportive family who made it their business to take care of young children and adults who had suffered in their young lives. He even approached Azelma on the subject and was quite surprised by her response.

"Ferre, that's brilliant! Man, she snagged a good one in you!" The sixteen year old laughed jovially, smacking her thigh. He regarded her curiously.

"Do you want me to work for you as well?" He asked quietly, once more sinking in confusion as her face settled slightly and began to shake side to side in a negative fashion.

"I'm nearly sixteen Ferre, I'm two years from going off to school and being free myself, not that I haven't enjoyed it here, cause I have, but Gavroche, he's with you lot 95% of the time anyway. He's young and needs a real family. All he does is sleep here, and he doesn't understand why he can't just stay with you. Take him out of here Combeferre, he's not meant to grow up here."

It was Azelma's blessing that brought him to the courthouse to get all the papers in line. And they would've been in and set if it weren't for the pamphlets and rallies he was now attending for the protest that was fast approaching.

The backroom of the café came to life with a new energy that had never been experienced in any other protest the student group Les Amis D'Abassie had ever had before. Each member set to their task with reckless abandon and most (expect Enjolras, Combeferre, and Joly who strived to continue class focus as well.) were spending more time in the backroom or spreading word than in classes. And when in class they continued to spread the word.

Everything was leading up to their pinnacle rally, the one they held right outside Professor Lemarque's home where he was still abed recovering from his most recent ailment.

The Professor was unarguably the most respected and revered on the campus and to Enjolras; he was the ultimate symbol for every cause he fought for, this new one on tuition and scholarship and education for all the most important for all. So where better to hold the rally on the eve of the protest than in front of Lemarque's home?

So there they were, all twelve of them (Gavroche, the five year old…, insisted on coming as well. "Imma big boy Fwerre! I can fight too!") were there surrounding the thirteenth member and leader of their group, Enjolras, standing a top his soap box looking like an avenging angel. His blonde curls was clumsily pulled back into a pony tail with a blood red ribbon, his matching red jacket flew off his sides in a fierce swoosh when his fists struck the air.

"We can not take this lying down! Everyone deserves to receive an education and shouldn't be taxed and tortured to death to fund this school's petty projects! Our Scholarship students work harder than any of us can even fathom! Why must we make them suffer!"

The crowd responded with enthusiasm. Éponine stood next to Combeferre, shaking with fury and responding to Enjolras's battle cries with heated intensity. Clinging to one of her legs, but mimicking Enjolras's actions, little Gavroche wove a little red flag the leader himself had given him, pined to his chest was the tricolor his own chest supported as well. To his side Feuilly stood resolute, his arms crossed fiercely against his chest, looking dangerous, daring any to challenge him (of course 6'5'' Bahorel standing behind him, no such dare came forth.).

"The next president of the school or the game changers of the next generation could be among these students, but the administration tosses them to the curb without a second glance. Do we stand for this? Turn the other cheek?"

"NO!" They hung on his every word, beat the air with him, followed him blindly, or so Grantaire believed any how, sitting at the back of the group, sitting on the stoop of the crate his Apollo stood upon, suckling his third bottle of the evening. Combeferre sighed at the sight. Grantaire did everything for Enjolras and despite his cynicism and lack of faith was his most devoted follower and the golden haired chief never gave the artist a second glance, if not for a scoff of disgust at the bottle glued to the cynic's lips. But Combeferre also smiled, for what Grantaire never saw (and he really shouldn't see either.), were the third glances, the stolen glances, Enjolras paid the artist and the small smiles that graced his features when Grantaire returned back to the café first, task complete and results positive. He hoped one day they'd both realize it, but that was a day Combeferre wasn't sure would come any time soon.

Combeferre turned his attention back to the leader as he approached the climax of his speech.

"Do you stand for this?" He cried.

"NO!" The crowd roared.

"Then rise! Take your place with me! Here upon these stones of this university in the Shadow of Professor Lemarque's home we will build our barricade! Let's show them we're not a force to be ignored! Join us! Join our crusade to right the wrongs of so many! JOIN US!"

There was silence at first at the question and solution Enjolras had just posed to the assembled, but soon the cries were overwhelming, the cheers and shouts of 'Fight!' heard in and around the crowd. It was then that Jehan took the stand and silence fell again. Taking a deep breath the little poet began to sing the school's anthem, but the lyrics were different, lyrics he'd written himself and taught to each member Amis over the last few days.

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the Songs of Angry men. It is the music of a people who will NOT be slaves again. When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drum. There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"

But Les Amis weren't the only ones with the lyrics. Soon Jehan's poetry and Éponine literature and journalism classmates began, followed by Courfeyac's theater chums, then Joly and Combeferre's premed colleagues, Marius and Bahorel's prelaw counterparts, Bousset and Musichetta's business buds and Cosette's children's education peers. Finally (and most surprising to Enjolras), Grantaire's art major acquaintances. Nearly all the crowd had joined in for the second verse.

"Will you join in our crusade, who will be strong and stand with me? Beyond the Barricade is there a world you long to see? Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free!"

Now Enjolras's voice boomed among them.

"Do you hear the people singing the song of Angry Men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"

With the crowd riled and ready for a fight Enjolras gave the details of the protest location, what to bring, and how to be prepared as Combeferre and the others handed out the pamphlets echoing his instructions. This was also around the time campus security came to break up the disruption of the peace, which in turn, caused more disruption of the peace.

Though as the officers pushed the students back, all hurling insults, Enjolras's loud "Vive Lamarque!" high above the others, Combeferre caught sight of someone in the window. He squinted to realize it was Professor Lemarque himself. Through the dark little window Combeferre could just make out the Professor's sunken pale cheeks, but also his lips turned up in a small sad smile. He longed to know what he thought of all this, his face with so many emotions filtering across it. Pride, worry, and fear? The last one threw him off and an uneasy feeling for the upcoming days began to settle in the pit of Combeferre's stomach when he saw Lemarque make a small sigh of the cross and look up towards the heavens. Praying for his own health or the health of the students who so blindly fought for his cause, Combeferre was unsure, but it did leave him with one feeling. Fear of what this new day will bring. When the barricades would rise.