Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a brisk november day. A boy with long strawberry blonde hair sat outside by his frost bitten flowers. His clothing came with great contrast to the grey and dead surroundings, tones of lylac, and a pale pink. He sat watching his own breath leave his lungs with every drag he took of his ciggerette. Eyes closing each time his lips met the filter. He stopped, eyes widened, quick to pull a notepad out of his backpocket and began writing down illegible words. This was Jehan Prouvaire.

Another boy walked out the front door to his house. flask in one hand, the other scrambling for a ciggerette in his pocket. His dark hair curled around his tired face, and reddened eyelids opened to show eyes that were reminisent of better days. His face had a chain of colored bruises that matched Jehans clothing. He sat down beside the other boy and his flowers. This was Grantaire Trembley.

Jehan leaned into him casually looking for a lighter as his had gone dead a long time ago.

"Can I ask you something, mon ami?" Jehan slipped out, a slight french accent escaped with his words that he'd been trying to cover ever since he'd moved to London. Grantaire pointed to himself, this was a gester that obviously meant 'who me?'. Jehan nodded to him and let out a laugh.

"I thought you were talking to the flowers!" Grantaire chuckled and took another drag of the ciggerette. He sighed.

"of course Jehan, you're the closest thing to family i've ever had" Grantaire noted. He took thought in that, in a way the probably are related. I mean, over the years, the two had shared enough needles that they probably had the same blood running in both their veins. Maybe thats why each one could put up with the other.

"when will you stop letting 'Parnasse fuck around with you Little one?" Jehan questioned

"He's been fucking a dead man for a long time." Grantaire Returned. He fell to full laying position after that. Jehan could swear this is when tears should start, his own eyes had been filled for a long time. However, Jehan hadn't seen Grantaire cry in a long time. Jehan often wondered if Grantaire could cry anymore. Just how numb had he made himself? Grantaire gave a signal that he was going inside. He dissapeared into the house with a slow pace of a beaten down man. Jehan continued to write in the small coffee stained notepad.

The house was probably the most repugnant thing on their block. Armory road was filled with old houses that lined up standing tall and erect. Wooden shingles painted bright shades of reds and blues. It was a beautiful neighbourhood. Thats why the boys didn't mind living there in that house. It was a sickly faded yellow, a two story building that tilted to one side. The deck was rotting through and became a bluish colour, Jehan oftened wondered how many bugs lived in those twigs. Jehan enjoyed the bugs that didn't eat his flowers, which were the only thing keeping that house standing. Ivy leaves running up the sides of the house, and flowers of any colour too. He had a small vegetable garden inthe back. At least thats what he'd told people that his personal garden was filled with. 

The enterior of the house was no different, old wallpaper from the seventies was falling down, and peeling like a bad sunburn in the heat of summer. The front door opened to a staircase leading to the upper floor, and with two doorways leading to rooms of each side. both rooms were empty. Any actual time was spent in the upstairs hidden from the coldness in sweaters and blankets. 'Parnasse ran a 'business' he would call it, from the basement. The basement was very much like him, a cold dank place where things went to die. Back when Grantaire was still full of imagination and ideas he had built a shelf that doubled as a doorway that hid the basement from prying eyes. A cat door was later installed for Jehans cat. It wasn't really his cat, it just came to their house to eat his catgrass. Jehan said that this cat was the worst little junkie of the house. The scronny cat eventually took on the name of little junkie.

Grantaire walked up the stained starway to his and 'Parnasse's room. A twin size matress laid on the painted floor. Papers strewn everywhere. Clothes everywhere. Anything. Anywhere. Grantaire had a few photographs tacked up to the blue wall. Some from parties of him and Jehan looking far too happy to be the slightest bit sober.

Others from highschool that Grantaire kept 'ironically' One that Jehan had taken at their graduation was his favorite. The two boys stood smiling with another boy, this one looked nothing like the two hollowed out urchins living in a house of the same discription. This boy was filled out with obviously well looked after muscle and a smile that would put most people to shame, perfect blonde hair fell down his face in waves, his olive skin tone with striking blue eyes that gave a cold look that told you that the smile was fake. When Grantaire sat down on the mattress. He made sure not to move any of 'Parnasse's stuff, he would get angry again if anything of his had been moved. Grantaire decided to stare at his photos. looking back to that time, at graduation.

"last time i hade hope" Grantaire let out in a murmurr. He remembered that moment, it was a moment he didn't even mind remembering. Unlike the countless memories of overdosing in unknown places, seeing unknown faces, everytime he'd been taken of advantage, everytime 'Parnasse had thrown an angry fist his way. Dispite leaving with his bestfriend, and his partner, Grantaire constantly felt lonely. He would usually just talk to himself in his room. Usually one of the side effects of something he's taking though.

"I remember this" Grantaire said as he pulled the picture of his wall. Memories rushing into his brain. This one made him so happy, although it also made him sad because he knew that he'll never feel that way again. Grantaire knows he's addicted to the drugs, the alcohol. He never expects to wake up in the morning but he does. Grantaire turned the picture over to see what was even written on it, in Jehans writing it said: 'Grad 2010, myself, Enjolras, and Grantaire' and then below it said 'we got the statue to smile and pose for us' and then it had Jehans signiture and a bunch of hearts.

This made Grantaire smile, however his eyes filled up with his firmilier tears. He doesn't cry in front of people, not anymore at least. Depression is contagious. He'd already gotten Jehan into enough trouble by getting him into the drugs. Grantaire didn't realize what he did next. In the snap of a second Grantaire had started to cry, and he had ripped that photo in two.

"Where are you now Apollo!?" Grantaire screamed at the photo, possibly even expecting a response.

"Where are you now Enjolras!?" and that was it, he just curled up and started to cry to himself.

He remembers following that boy everywhere through their highschool.

He remembered the first time he'd seen him. He was going out tagging. He had himself boosted up by the dumpster below him and began to start working on a tag', however he just happened to look in the window of the house next to the wall he was tagging. Inside that window sat a boy, the same olive skinned blonde from the picture. Grantaire watched him pace back and forth, he could tell that he was practicing some speech. What was originally going to be a tag had now turned into almost a love letter that read

"I don't believe in anything, but i believe in you, somehow, so don't worry about whatever it is you're working on, its going to be fantastic! I can tell. I almost don't know how to say this but, I think I really need you. you are my Apollo."

Grantaire then started to break the tears into tears of laughter and self pity. Remebering what happened after he'd finished his 'love note'. Grantaire now covered in paint and looking like a lovestruck owl staring into his Apollo's bedroom. However, his Apollo wasn't as recipricol when he noticed Grantaire outside his bedroom window. In fact, the god Apollo instantly grabbed Grantaire from his window , he punched him and spit in his face and let him drop. Grantaire fell to the ground with a thud. He remembered yelling from down on the ground, yelling to his Apollo that he had fallen from where the gods lived, screaming with love in his voice at the blonde boy 'you, Apollo are my god!' This memory was becoming to painful to him now.

Grantaire was moaning wildly while crying, he was trying to be quiet he knew if parnasse heard it he'd freak out at him for causing so much noise. With the ammount of time Parnasse spends incredibly coked out of his mind has made him amazingly irritable. However, it wasn't the coked out Parnasse that entered the room. He quickly made it over to Grantaire and held him. Trying to figure out what was wrong.

"What is the matter? babe?" Parnasse actually got a little choked at seeing Grantaire like this. Its not like he hadn't noticed Grantaire change over the months.

"Apollo left." Grantaire said inbetween gasps for air.

"Who is Apollo?" Parnasse asked now seeming suspicious.

"Apollo is my god!" Grantaire screamed. He remembered that so vividly 'apollo is my god' after he seen the blonde boy in the window he never made any of his usual witty tags such as 'how ya'gonna start of revolution if you can't even do the dishes' (which was targeted at Jehan as a private joke) all of his tags, and they had grown, he'd painted the town now said 'Apollo Is My God'. It even made the news a few times. However, it never made the statue blonde look his way. He was fading back into reality again.

"You are having a panic attack Babe, hold on a second" Parnasse went and ran down to the basement. Grantaire just sat there on the floor crying and screaming. Jehan had left for the day, don't know where to. Grantaire was glad about that, he didn't want Jehan to see him so miserable again. Soon, Parnasse was back upstairs with enough needles filled with who knows what.

"babe hold still. This'll make you feel better m'kay?" Parnasse said without looking at Grantaires eyes.
"okay." Grantaire wimpered. Parnasse had already injected the liquid into Grantaire's upper left arm. Grantaire could now feel himself getting warm, and more importantly numb. His crying subsided. Parnasse stayed by his side while he was sleeping. After all, the two were in a two year long relationship dispite all the drugs, beatings, and other problems they'd had.

Grantaire didn't dream. This was a good thing, just being warm inside Parnasse's arms, no thoughts of unrequited loves and obsessions that tore him apart.

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Two boys sit outside a house, they are heading out to go somewhere. One boy wearing a set of fashion forward Sunglasses, he towered over the other boy running around him. That boy was a tiny little thing, only a young boy, crazy blonde hair that went everywhere and had a few dreads in the mess of it, he was missing some teeth but that just added to his charm. These two boys were Courfeyrac and Gavroche.

They were headed to their friends Marius and Eponines house. Headed down to the end of the Armory Road they lived on. Past the rotting yellow house, to the largest blue house at the end of the block. They entered the house without even knocking, this was normal to them, they'd all become such close friends. Marius and Courfeyrac were childhood bestfriends. They have been bestfriends forever.

"Oy! Marius git yer arse daun here" Courfeyrac spoke with an irish accent, though he is a french decent he lived in ireland for the last couple of years. He had just returned today.

"COURFEYRAC!" Marius screamed and did this weird little dance at the top of his ivory stairs. Marius ran down the stairs and gave Courfeyrac a huge hug.

"ow've you been Marius! I c'n tell thut the married life sehwts you." Courfeyrac chuckled as poked at Marius's stomach.

"Ah, And Eponine, yer just a sight fer sore eyes" Courfeyrouc gave the petit woman a bear hug. She jokingly made choking noises back at him.

"And you, Courfeyrac how've you been?" Marius asked.

"AND ireland, tell us about Ireland! He wouldn't tell me until we got here" Gavroche added with a stink eye towards Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac went on to explain Ireland, and its beauty, and the great parties they have there, all the beautiful people and the overly detailed things he had done to these people. In fact, by the end of his speech he had almost given a sermon on how amazing Ireland is and why everyone needs to go there.

"how'ver I missed London a hell ov a lot, I think i'm going head downtown this afternoon if anyone wants to come?" Courfeyrac asked everyone. However nobody wanted to come with him, they were planning a surprise party for when he returned. Once Courfeyrouc was down the stairs and out the "mini-mansion" as he refered it to be, they began to scramble around.

"Did we invite everyone?" Marius asked quickly going through a huge list of names. Courfeyrac was friends with everyone, Marius wanted everyone to come, afterall it was on his dollar, and he had a lot of dollars.

"Did you phone Enjolras And Combeferre?" Eponine asked him.

"well. um.. no. but you see.. they're probably.." Marius fidgited trying to find an excuse, because frankly those two men were very indimidating to Marius.

"God Marius! Why are you so scared of them?" Eponine yelled at Marius. However, Marius gave her the puppy dog eyes.

"Fine" she sighed. As she dialed the phone and talked to the two other men. Of course they were coming, Enjolras thought the world of Courfeyrouc. Courf was one of the few who supported his ideas. Eponine moved onto the next list of people

-Joly
-Grantaire Trembley
-Bosseut
-Musichetta

Of course, she'd already invited everyone on this list asides from Grantaire. Eponine pulled marius over by the arm and whispered to him.

"Do you think we can invite Grantaire, I mean is it safe to?" She asked trying to be polite.

"I don't want any drug mules in our house honestly. I think we can scratch one drinking buddy off of one list." Marius added. Eponine nodded in agreement.

The last time either of them had even seen Grantaire he had overdosed at a gallery showing of his art and they rushed him to the hospital. They didn't want to deal with heroin. So they distanced themselves from Grantaire until they were almost strangers. They wouldn't even recognize him if they'd seen him now if it weren't for that old mop of hair and everpresent flask. Marius drew a line of ink straight through Grantaire's name.

Marius couldn't help but wonder if that had somehow reached out to Grantaire and hurt him.