(A/N: I love this pairing, and since the Shipping Oscars thing was revived I figure I'd start submitting some fics I've been to lazy to submit to SPPf. XD You don't really need to have a knowledge of Les Mis to get the gist of it, but...it does help. XD)
I Will Remember You
The room was silent, completely silent save for a gentle, mournful sobbing. Marius Pontmercy sat at the end of his bed, head in his hands. Nobody else was home; Cosette has departed for the seamstress’s down the street after a tragic encounter with a chair splinter left her with a gaping hole in the back of her dress.
She had come to accept that her husband’s love was not in her alone, that the one he loved was a man, deceased: one who had died on the barricades that her husband had barely escaped from. Although she felt a little jealous, she was not envious. In fact, Cosette had met this man once and he seemed fairly nice…however, she didn’t know the half of it. She didn’t know how sweet he truly was; only Marius knew.
It had been many months, nearly a year, since that June sixth, the day his world came crashing down with the barricades. The wound to his emotional well-being still felt fresh as the day it happened. He missed him so badly…the death of his love played over and over in his mind, tormenting him, haunting him.
“Why did he leave me?” he asked of the night, not expecting a response. The question itself spurred him to sob louder into hands pale from a lack of sunlight. He rarely left the house anymore, not since June. It was far too painful to…but on occasion he would look out his window onto the street below and remember the times they’d walk the street together. They were in love then…everyone who saw them knew it.
“Why…?” he repeated.
A few moments after he repeated his question to the nothingness that he spent most of his time with, he felt a pair of arms wrap loosely about his shoulders. Automatically he snuggled into the touch and sighed, eyes still closed and full of tears.
“How did it go?” he asked, trying to sound a bit happier than he felt. “Did you get your dress mended?”
No answer, just the sound of breathing in his ear.
“Cosette, what’s wrong?”
This time he did receive a response, a whisper in his ear, soft and chilling: “Marius…”
Marius’s eyes shot open. This voice was not his wife’s. It was a male voice, only a slight bit deeper than that of a teenager’s. He knew that voice, knew immediately who it was.
“B-Bossuet!” he cried out, turning his head to see the translucent white form he so longed for.
“I’m sorry,” the spectre whispered, sitting upon the bed beside him. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone like this…I had no control over it, understand.”
Marius nodded. “I…I know….but….dammit, Bossuet! Dammit! We…we really had something, we did! But my god, we were so idealistic that we didn’t see-”
“Marius, shh. As far as I’m concerned, we ‘had’ nothing. ‘Had’ implies the past and as far as I’m concerned, what we ‘had’ never ended.” Bossuet said with a slight smile. “But it was just my luck, right? It figures that I had someone as wonderful as you are and I had to go and die like that…” Marius felt a hand comb through his hair and he began to tear up once again. He missed that feeling, that touch, and the love that came with it.
“Promise me something.” Bossuet said suddenly, removing his hand from the mass of curly black hair and thumbing Marius’s chin. The living one looked up.
“Anything. You know I’d do whatever you wanted.” He replied, lips trembling the same way his hands were.
“No matter what. Not matter who you marry, who you meet, who you are with…promise that you won’t forget me. Promise it.” Bossuet pleaded, looking into Marius’s eyes with his own lifeless ones. “I want you to always remember me, what we had, what we still have…always keep it in your mind.”
“I…I will. You didn’t have to ask me, I could never forget you, what you mean to me…those are the kinds of things you never forget.”
“I need to hear you promise.” Bossuet nearly snapped.
Marius smiled a tearful smile, one single tear finding its way down a pale cheek. “I promise. I’ll never forget you. Never.”
Bossuet embraced him again and, though he was no longer alive, it felt to Marius like his heart had never stopped, like no musket ball ever pierced it. But it would not last; he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Cosette. Bossuet heard them too, and slowly he released him from the embrace.
“I will always be with you, Marius. As long as you remember me.” He whispered.
With that, he disappeared into the darkness that was the night. Marius placed a hand over his own heart, feeling a tightness familiar to him. It was the tightness that always preceded tears, and once more he buried his face in his hands.
“I love you.” He whispered back, for no one in the world of the living to hear. He heard the doorknob turn, but he didn’t look up; he could not look at her after what had just come to pass. Of course, Cosette was unaware of this.
“Marius, darling….are you alright?” she asked, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, I’m fine, just…remembering.”