Okay, it's been done before, but I decided to do it my own way. Based on how he strikes me in the musical, I don't think Gavroche would break down into tears when Eponine died; rather, he would get angry. And there's one person who he would feel would really deserve his anger (hint, hint: M.A.R.I.U.S!) Enjoy and review please!
No no no no no no no no no no no, the single syllable ran through the young boy's mind as he watched his sister dying, her white chemise stained scarlet with her own blood. He fought back bile when he watched her gasp and writhe in pain.
It couldn't happen. Not to Eponine. Not to Gavroche's Eponine. It couldn't.
Eponine was the strong one.
Eponine was the one who could smile on the darkest day. When the sky was gloomy with storm clouds, Eponine would create her own sunshine. Even when Thenadier was in a particularly volatile mood and decided to beat his children, Eponine never cried out in pain. She took it in silence, and even shielded Gavroche with her own body, taking his pain for him.
As she cried out again, Gavroche started to run to her, but stopped mid-stride.
Even while she lay there, bleeding, broken…dying…she looked up at Marius with eyes of love. Even though tears streamed down her face, unstoppable because of the sheer agony she was in, she was happy. Through her torture, she smiled.
Gavroche knew why, even if he didn't know how she had the strength to do it. For the first-and last-time, she was in Marius' arms as he held her close, and murmured words of love and comfort to her. She denied that it was his fault, placing one red-coated hand on his cheek.
"Don't you fret…Monsieur Marius…I don't feel any pain."
Like Hell you don't! Gavroche wanted to scream. He wanted to hit Marius, to make him suffer as he had made Eponine suffer. But Gavroche couldn't do that to Eponine. He couldn't take away the last shred of happiness that she clung to. Her voice was fading, and she was sinking further into Marius' arms, the result of her massive blood loss and fatigue.
Eponine's appearance was pitiful enough. Through tears in her belted chemise, her ribs were visible. Her face was smudged with dirt and blood, and her hair was matted with the viscous life-giving fluid. To Gavroche, it was sheer agony.
Whenever food was scarce, Eponine would steal food for the children to eat, and she would give up her portion for Gavroche. She invented games to play, and taught him the tricks that he would need to survive in the slums of the street. She was more than a sister. She was his teacher, his mentor, his friend, and was more a mother to him than his would ever be.
When Eponine wrenched herself up, kissing Marius with all of the passion she held in her heart, Gavroche couldn't help but feel a small amount of satisfaction. 'Atta girl, sis. He had to be happy that she had achieved one of her greatest wishes.
But everything faded when she flopped backward, her head bent at an awkward angle.
"!" The sound was wrenched from the young boy's throat before he knew what he was doing. He dashed towards the crumpled form of his beloved Eponine, pulling her from the shocked Marius.
"Eponine! Eponine! Eponine…please…wake up! Please," Gavroche's voice shook and cracked from the weight of his grief. "Don't leave me, Eponine. Don't leave me all alone. I need you." He said, his voice reduced to a plaintive whisper as tears streamed down his cheeks and his shoulders shook.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and stiffened when he realized it was Marius. Removing one hand from supporting Eponine's corpse, he slapped it away. Marius sat there, like most of the students, stunned into silence. Gavroche wasn't violent.
At Marius' expression, Gavroche felt a hot rage bubble up from deep within him. This…coward!...had caused his Eponine to suffer. To cry. To die.
"You bastard," he growled.
Marius blinked once in shock.
"YOU BASTARD!" Gavroche shrieked, jumping to his feet before tackling Marius to the ground.
"YOU KILLED MY SISTER! YOU KILLED HER! I HATE YOU! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU TO DIE! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!" As Gavroche landed blows on him, Marius did not attempt to fight back. Finally, Grantaire managed to snap out surprise at Gavroche's outburst first. He darted forward, grabbing the boy and pulling him backwards, holding him firmly as he fought and kicked and struggled, wanting nothing more than to take revenge on who he saw as responsible for the death of Eponine.
When they picked up Eponine's body to carry away, with Enjolras pulling Marius to his feet to follow along in a daze, the full weight of his sorrow hit Gavroche like a wall. He suddenly became limp, dropping forward until Grantaire pulled him back up.
The older man knelt at Gavroche's level, putting one hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, 'Vroche. She shouldn't have died. She was too young."
Gavroche couldn't take it. He bolted away to a dark alley, where he slid to the ground with his back against a wall. He felt so alone.
He punched the cobblestone pavement, feeling a knuckle pop out of joint. Gavroche stared at his own hand, detached from his pain as a third-party observer.
"Augh!" He yelled, kicking a trash can. He stood, lashing out at whatever objects were unfortunate enough to land in the path of the mourning boy's boundless fury.
"Why, Eponine, why? Why would you die for him when he didn't love you? When he was so stupid? Why? WHY?"
As he gathered ammunition, his mind was focused on one thing: revenge. Revenge on the opposite militia. On the men who had physically shot his older sister.
And then would come Marius, who had begun killing Eponine long before, from the inside out.
When the first bullets buried themselves in Gavroche's young flesh, the youth stopped in surprise. But still he struggled on. But his strength wasn't endless. When at last he collapsed, his small body filled with enemy shot, he felt a sense of disappointment. He couldn't get revenge.
Blinking in the sudden brightness of a brilliant white light, Gavroche stared.
"Miss me, 'Vroche? It was only for a little while."
The boy ran full speed to collide with his sister, clinging to her as she laughed gently, embracing him in return. He leaned back to examine her closer.
She wore all white, draped over her in a modest way, but still beautifully breath-taking. She looked better-fed and healthier, her cheeks tinted with a light pink glow. She was happy, and this time, she need Marius to do that.
Gavroche instinctively wiped his face, searching for moisture, but there was none. Reunited with his sister, he never again had to cry a brother's mourning tears.