Chapter 3

Bahorel refused to leave Feuilly's side, claiming he would come in useful if Javert's soldiers would find their hiding spot. But really, the way he was hovering around his wounded friend, the way his eyes filled with worry any time Feuilly couldn’t see it, it was clear that it wasn't his true reason. And really, after everything that had happened, Courfeyrac didn’t have the heart to separate the two.
Marius was already out of the question. Even when he wanted to see Cosette so badly, wanted to assure her he was alive, there was no way he could go. It was too risky, being the one actually linked to the house they were trying to visit. So Éponine promised him to give Cosette a message, and he begrudgingly agreed to stay behind.
Musichetta was in no state to go on a mission. Every time the silence fell, her eyes filled up with tears. It was heartbreaking to see her like that. She was one of the strongest persons Courfeyrac had ever met. To see her break down like that… it broke his heart too.
So it were Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan who followed Gavroche back into the woods. They had found a cave for the others to hide in until the four returned. Courfeyrac did not want to think about to what he would be returning if the cave was discovered. He had to believe the others were safe, otherwise he would have never been able to walk away. It had to be a constant mantra inside his head. They are safe, they are safe, they are safe.
All four were on high alert while finding their way through the woods. Every sound, even the wind through the trees, made them jump. Made them clutch their weapons. Made them think this was it. They were found. They would die.
Or at least, Courfeyrac imagined the others thought the same thing he did. None of them actually spoke a word about it.
“This is as far as I go,” Gavroche said when they reached the end of the forest. Nassau was lying in front of them. Even from this distance, Courfeyrac could see the patrolling guards.
He wanted to shout at Gavroche. How could he stop helping them? How could he abandon them when he was needed the most? He knew the ways to get in unseen, how could he not show them those paths? But Gavroche was merely a ten-year old boy, so Courfeyrac had no choice but to let him go. This was no fight for a child, and Gavroche had been more involved than he ever should have.
“Thank you,” he responded. “Stay safe out there.”
Gavroche saluted as an answer, before he disappeared between the trees, leaving the three alone. It was up to them now. To infiltrate Nassau again, the city they had so desperately wanted to leave. To find the help their friend needed. To stay alive.
Courfeyrac didn’t need to warn Éponine or Jehan what would happen if they were found. They knew. One night of sleep had not erased the bloodshed from their minds, even if the river had washed away the red spots on their hands. Hands washed in innocence, but Courfeyrac did not doubt the guilt would not leave that quick.
The northern gate was staring up at them. Usually it was the most quiet gate, the gate where the guards were easily bribed, but even from a distance Courfeyrac could see it was heavily guarded this time.
"All right, time to blend in," he muttered. He put his hood up. "Don't try to draw attention." They were watching who was leaving, he told himself. They were searching for runaways, for people trying to leave the town. No one would be so stupid as to return, right? Not when Nassau would mean an early grave. (When it had been an early grave for several).
And yet his heart kept pounding in his chest while walking to the gate. Éponine and Jehan were somewhere behind him, hidden in the crowd, he knew. It took all of his willpower to not look back at them and reveal they belonged together.
The gate was heavily guarded, but Courfeyrac recognised none of the guards. All Nassau’s locals seemed to be replaced by Javert’s new troops. Perhaps Courfeyrac should be glad about it. Most guards knew his face, knew who they were. Now they were just one of many hardworking citizens trying to buy some stuff from the market.
Don't act suspicious. They don’t know who you are. Look, they are only checking the people leaving[. It was a mantra in his head. He had to believe he could pass the gate. He had to believe the others were safe too. They would die if he couldn’t believe that, and they had lost way too many men already.
By some miracle he actually passed the gate without trouble. The guards barely looked at him, and both Éponine and Jehan passed them too. Courfeyrac was sure everyone around him could hear his heart pounding in his chest. How had Enjolras done it? He had smiled at his crew anytime things had been difficult, and had told them everything was gonna be okay. Courfeyrac had believed him every time. Had he felt like this too? Like the weight of the world was lying on his shoulders? How had he managed the responsibility of his crew without falling apart? Courfeyrac felt like throwing up.
“Al right, let’s go to the mansion.” Marius had been sure Cosette and her father would no longer be living in the fort, but in the mansion that was their actual home. It had been clear that Javert had been the one in charge for a long time, but after yesterday? (Oh god, how could it be only yesterday they had joked together, had planned together, had been sure of their victory together? How could everything Courfeyrac had known fall apart that quickly?) Mayor Valjean had lost every power he had.
He should feel hopeful here. They had passed the guards. They were in Nassau. They were going to get help for Feuilly, and no one would die anymore.
But every street they passed, every corner they turned he expected Javert to be standing there. And, even worse than that, he saw Combeferre everywhere. The corner where they had their first kiss. The shop they always bought little gifts for each other. How they had walked together, and laughed together, and loved each other.
It took him all of his willpower to walk on. All he really wanted was to curl up in a corner and just cry. Cry for his husband, the love of his life. For his friends. And maybe, maybe he could beg the gods to change places. Les Amis needed Combeferre or Enjolras, not him. He was just Courfeyrac, and now he was suddenly the one who had to keep his friends alive.
A job not well done, not with Feuilly being closer to death every second. With Jehan and Éponine here in the lion’s den.