People of Paris gathered on the streets for General Lamarque's funeral.

The boys and I stood in a line together. I was rubbing against Enjolras' shoulder. I suddenly felt his fingers link with mine. He was holding my hand. He squeezed it tightly, as though it's the last time he'll ever feel my embrace.

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men." He whispered. The rest of the boys joined him in his chant. He released his hand from mine and ran up to Larmarque's coffin that was being pulled by horses. He and Marius climbed the buggy. Marius held a red flag. As soon as he reached the top of the coffin, he waved the flag violently.

All the people were chanting now. I joined them. I climbed on the coffin, holding onto the brass decorations that lined it. I punched my fists high in the air. A crowd was now forming behind the buggy, following it.

The moment was amazing. It was...glorious. The people were starting to believe in the uprising.

The buggy stopped abruptly and I almost fell off. I quickly redeemed myself. Dead ahead, I saw soldiers on horseback.

Oh, no.

"Draw!" the leader shouted. All the men drew their swords. They shined in the sunlight.

Marius and Enjolras pulled out guns and held their arms high, not second guessing their decision for a split second. I raised my head to see Enjolras. He looked down at me, then back at the enemy.

Boom!

I heard a gunshot crack through the air. A woman below me fell to the ground.

"You martyred an innocent woman!" Combeferre screamed, kneeling at the motionless woman's side.

"Charge!" the commander of the army led his soldiers to us.

I witnessed a man being stabbed in the chest. I saw him lay motionless, just like the woman. But he had one disturbing aspect about him. His lifeless eyes were still open.

Shouts and gun shots ringed through the air.

"Here," Combeferre handed me a gun. "Use it well, my dear."

Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

One.

I raised the gun.

Two.

I pulled the trigger.

Three.

I watched as the soldier falls off his horse.

I panted. I didn't know what I was really feeling. Happiness? Did I feel bad for killing somebody?

"To the barricade!" Enjolras jumped off the coffin and helped me off it as well. "We must go now, Adéle."

He held my hand the whole time we ran. Chairs and small tables fell from buildings all around us. Women and men grabbed them and throw them into a huge pile.

There was more shooting and yelling. We ran behind the pile of furniture.

"Adéle, you must run clear from here." I tired to argue with him. "No, trust me. Go to Musain. You'll be safe there."

I stood up, but couldn't help but turn back to him. I saw him shoot his gun.

"Go!" he demanded.

I did as he commanded.

I got to café Musain in a short amount of time. Chairs and small tables were falling from buildings all around. Some of the boys were already there.

"We need all the furniture you can throw down!" Grantaire looked up at windows.

I grabbed chairs and threw them into the huge pile. It was growing more and more every second.

I felt a drop of rain fall on my cheek. The clouds in the sky were dark at moving quickly.

"Come, Mademoiselle. We must get inside now." Grantaire touched my arm.

"What about Enjolras? He hasn't returned yet." Worry spread through my entire body.

"You can't think about him right now. He'll come back, he always does." Grantaire reassured me.

I reluctantly followed him inside the café. We got inside Musain just in time because it started raining cats and dogs only seconds after.

The rest of the boys gathered inside, some of them were damp from the rain, but most of them were present. Except Enjolras.

"Where is Enjolras?" Combeferre took a long drag on his pipe.

I didn't face Combeferre. Instead, I watched the rain drops fall outside.

"I don't know." I finally had the courage to say. Combeferre didn't speak. Instead, he took continues drags on his pipe, slowly but surely.

A long time passed, and I was beginning to really worry about Enjolras.

Where could he be?

By the time it was dark, the rain had stopped. It was silent throughout. Only the sound of men drinking wine filled the room.

I was about to close my eyes to rest when I heard something outside. I could hardly hear it, for it was ever so faint.

"Do you hear that?" I asked no one in particular. I stood up. I stepped towards the exit, but stopped. I listened again.

There is was. It sounded like...grunting.

I grabbed a pistol and walked outside. I assumed everybody was too drunk to stop me, or they didn't care. Either way, I was going to see who or what was making this sound.

I slowly tiptoed around the barricade, holding the pistol firmly close to me. I swung around a table that blocked my view. And then I saw him.

Enjolras.

He was limping and holding his side strongly.

"Adéle-" he barely managed. Then he collapsed. I sprinted over to him. I squatted at his side.

"Help!" I screamed. Only seconds later appeared Combeferre, Grantaire, and another boy.

"What happened?" Grantaire ran up to me.

"I...I..." Stammering profoundly, I could hardly get the words out.

"We don't have time," Combeferre intervened. "Grantaire, get his arms. Courfeyrac, help me with his legs."

With those words, they scooped Enjolras up and successfully carried him inside Musain. They laid him down on the floor.

"Somebody get a lamp." I commanded, squatting at Enjolras' side once again. He still had his hand squeezing his right side. He moaned loudly. I tried to unbutton his blood-stained shirt to see his wound but he stopped me.

"No, please." He begged.

I moved his hands away and unbuttoned it anyways. He watched my every move closely.

A bullet. He got shot.

I tried not to let myself cry. His life now depended on me, and I'm wasn't even a doctor.

I took off the thin sweater I had on and tied it around his waist. I needed to stop the bleeding.

I tried to think of a way to get the bullet out.

"I need a knife. Does anybody have a knife?" I questioned the group.

"Here. I have one." Marius stepped up and handed me a pocketknife.

I sighed deeply, trying to concentrate.

"Okay, Enjolras. This is going to hurt." I warned him.

"What?"

I dug the knife in the wound and fished for the bullet. He screamed, louder than I ever could. I hated causing him pain, but I had to get the bullet out somehow or he could die.

Once I got the bullet to come up from the skin, I pulled it out with my fingers. He panted when it was finally over.

The pressure lifted off of my shoulders.

"I need another cloth." I said.

Almost immediately, a cloth was handed to me. I wiped up the rest of the blood off of Enjolras' toned stomach. It was difficult, I was getting distracted at his looks he kept giving me. I tried not to smile, not around the other boys at least. In fact, the boys were giving me looks as well. Looks of awe. I guess that made me the hero of today.

---

Enjolras finally stopped bleeding. He thanked me at least a hundred times before he fell asleep. I laid by his side, just in case. I closed my eyes, happy with what I had done today. I saved somebody's life and the feeling was great.

---

I woke up abruptly to Enjolras moaning. He was slightly talking about something, though he was still asleep. His face changed over and over again. He must have been having a dream. It seemed like a pretty bad one, too. In the pale moonlight, I could see beads of sweat resting on his forehead. I worried about him.

He couldn't die now. Not with the revolution still at hand. Paris needed him. I needed him.