Hello again! And yes, another new Les Miserables story from me, bringing my total to five now. I will try and stay up to date with all of them when I have free time. I have had the idea for this new story in my head for a while now, and with the help of Freedom Rose I have developed it into this. It is a little bit darker than my other stories, with the levels of fluff still there. I can ensure you all of that.

I really hope that you all like this new story

If there was any truth to the statement 'the calm before the storm', Grantaire knew that this was one of those moments. The first battle was over and now everyone sat waiting for the National Guard to return for another battle that would leave many lives shattered. With a bottle in his hand, Grantaire found himself looking around at his friends around him, the ones who remained. Fueilly the hardworking fan-maker had been the first to fall killed as he climbed the barricade. A young man who had spent his entire life working to survive and see another day had been killed fighting to give those all that he never had. Hope. Now, his friends sat trying to enjoy the time they had left with their dear friends. Grantaire, along with everyone else who kept such dark thoughts to themselves, knew that the next battle would lead to more of them falling.

Enjolras and Combeferre sat perched near the top of the barricade, keeping watch over the street below them for any sign of the enemies. Joly, Jehan and Bossuet sat playing cards trying not to think of their fallen friend. Baharol, the fighter, sat beside Grantaire with a drink in his hand. Only two people had chosen to spend the evening sitting alone. Eponine, her cover blown, sat alone at one end of the barricade deep in thought; thoughts of a young man with dark hair and a face of freckles. The man in her thoughts, Marius Pontmercy, sat alone elsewhere reading and rereading the note from his love Cosette. The volunteer, one Jean Valjean, stood in the café watching over those young souls so willing to lose their lives for all that they believed in. In this moment of desperation, he looked to the one scene that warmed his old heart.

Near the base of the barricade, a collection of empty wine crates made a makeshift bed in this moment. It was small and rickety but it was enough for the small boy who occupied it. Valjean recognized the boy as the cheeky gamin who had delivered Marius' letter to his door, the light of innocence and joy in his blue eyes as he smiled 'something for you, something for me'. He was so young, no older than ten years old. Obviously the warning to stay away from the barricade had fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps these students were all that he had; he wanted to remain loyal to them, loyal to the fight. The boy, who Valjean could now give the name of Gavroche too, was not sleeping in this moment. He just lay with his blanket tucked loosely around his petite frame, staring a few metres up the structure of the barricade to another young man. "Courf" Gavroche said, his little voice reaching across the silence to the young man in question.

"Oui mon petit" Courfeyrac smiled his gaze soft as he looked to the little boy. To Valjean the gaze was not one that a friend would give to another rather one that a father would have only for his son. The old man, there to protect Marius, didn't understand the relationships built between these young fighters. He had seen the tears in their eyes when the body of the fan-maker had been covered and laid in the wine shop and he could see a strong bond between this young man by the name of Courfeyrac and the child.

"When this is all over" Gavroche said sitting up and wiping at his tired eyes. "And we are all out of 'ere, will you do what ya promised?"

"Of course I will" Courfeyrac smiled gesturing for the young boy to come and sit with him "Come up here"

Gavroche smiled, deserting his blanket behind him as he climbed up the short distance to be taken into Courfeyrac's arms and brought onto his lap. "Ya mean it Courf?"

"Oui, petit chiot" Courfeyrac said kissing Gavroche's head. "When we get out of this and everything is safe again, me and you will go and get all the paperwork sorted out and it will be official"

"And you'll be my daddy" Gavroche said with a sleepy smile as he laid his head on Courfeyrac's shoulder.

"Forever, we can get that nice home out in the country you dream about, and I'll take you to the beach and teach you to swim" Courfeyrac said running a gentle hand up and down the gamin's back. "Adopting you is the first thing I will do when all of this is over".

It appeared now to Valjean as he watched from the cafe that many had seen the heart-warming scene between the two. Enjolras and Combeferre had small smiles on their faces; the card game had been halted for the exchange to be watched. Eponine, the gamin's sister, now wore a smile rather than a gaze that suggested that she was forever to be lost. It seemed that all of these young revolutionaries, so brave and loyal to the cause they had begun, all knew that Courfeyrac's words were true and that the fatherly love meant everything to Gavroche. Valjean didn't know the story of the street gamin or how he had come to be in the care of Courfeyrac but he could see both of them meant the world to each other.

Gavroche smiled brightly, snuggling close to Courfeyrac's chest, sinking into his hold. "I love you" He whispered, his words hidden slightly by a yawn that escaped him.

"I love you too" Courfeyrac smiled picking up another blanket and draping it around his boy, holding him close.

Grantaire, staring for a moment into his bottle before looking back at those around him, thought of how they had all came to be together. He didn't believe in the revolution but believed the words of Enjolras, the passion of his beliefs bringing Grantaire here to fight. The group had been together for many years by this point and had formed the bonds of siblings rather than of friends. They all had their beliefs but all wanted this revolution to succeed more than anything. Perhaps they all wanted this for different reasons. Grantaire wasn't sure what he wanted but he knew what others wanted, whilst he may not contribute to the fight much in his way, he listened and he understood the dreams and wishes of those around him. He knew Enjolras wanted to see a better world, a fairer world for everyone. When it came to Courfeyrac, the group's centre, Grantaire knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to come out of this fight to a country that didn't allow children and families to die on the streets, he wanted a fairer treatment of those children, the children like his Gavroche. He was fighting for the children of the city who had no one to care for them. There were times when Grantaire wished that he had something so strong to fight for, as for now he fought with his friends, unwilling to leave them to the dangers when he could so easily take himself away to safety.

He drank to drown these dark thoughts, the thoughts that haunted him making him believe that everyone he cared about were going to fall in the fight. The alcohol blurred the thoughts; he didn't want them to control him. He wanted to drown everything dark, allowing himself to see the positive. From his seat near the foot of the barricade and through his alcohol blurred eyes he could see the passion in Enjolras, who remained standing to keep watch over his friends and his barricade. He watched Courfeyrac taking the little boy into his arms and taking about everything that they were going to have after this dreadful battle was over. They were so close, like father and son, they always had been. Grantaire could remember the day Courfeyrac had come to the café, pleading with Combeferre and Joly to come to his home to care for a child he had found in the streets. He had told them the tale of him finding the tiny boy, then seven years old, hiding in the thin back alley behind the home of Courfeyrac and Marius. Gavroche had been trying to hide from the cold and from the gang who had chased him for pickpocketing from them. He had been so small, so needy, that Courfeyrac couldn't leave him there to fall deeper into the cold of the night.

'God forbid' he thought to himself as he allowed another large swig of the strong wine to slide down his throat. 'God forbid something happens to either of them'. They needed each other, Gavroche and Courfeyrac. Everyone there needed each other in one way or another. Grantaire needed Enjolras to believe. Enjolras needed Combeferre for his guidance in the revolution. Joly and Bossuet had each other to level each other out, finding the balance in unluckiness and hypochondria. Gavroche needed Courfeyrac to care for him, to be a loving father to him and show him that there was someone who wanted him. Courfeyrac had Gavroche to give him a purpose, before him there was nothing more than the revolution and the girls who fell at the attractive young man's feet.

Lost in his thoughts and in the bottle in his hand, Grantaire tilted his head back to stare at the stars above him. The cynic, the non-believer found himself praying. 'Lord above, please, let us sees yet another day after the battle to come. Let Courfeyrac keep his Gavroche, dear Gavroche is only a child, a little boy who needs his father figure. Let them stay together, let them see their dream.' He prayed, looking back at Courfeyrac and Gavroche, the little boy sleeping soundly in his guardian's arms. 'Dear Lord, let the better world they all dream for come to them when the morning comes, let the light come in the morning when this all is over. And Lord, forever make sure that Fueilly and all that may join him in the fight yet to come are happy in your garden, make them the guardian angels for those left behind, allowing them to see this better world.'

There we go, I hope you liked it. Please review and let me know, I take any feedback into consideration. I really would like to know if you all want me to continue this or not.