【ER】Golden Rule

Grantaire hadn't imagined a day like this since Azma Thenardier was handcuffed six years ago.

At this moment, he was standing in the waiting line for prison visits, watching Enjolras help him fill out the registration form.He put down his ballpoint pen, nodded at the registration officer, and turned to Grantaire.

"I'll help you hold the car keys and lighter." He said, "Go, she'll be waiting for you inside."

This matter started three hours ago.

In the morning when the sun was not so dazzling, he and Enjolras stood on the street in front of the coffee shop and looked at each other.Gavroche uttered a strange cry when he saw him.

"Wow." He looks at Grantaire, then at Enjolras, "this is really embarrassing, isn't it? I thought I'd never see you guys in the same—"

"...I came to Éponine," said Grantaire quickly, interrupting Gavroche before he could say anything.He wondered how much the kid knew—after all, the last time he saw Grantaire, he and Enjolras were still living together, right?This thing looks more embarrassing than it sounds.What did he and Enjolras look like to the boy?Two grown men stood in a daze on the street.An ex-boyfriend for less than 24 hours?marvelous.

Enjolras frowned at him.Grantaire tries to read his expression - doesn't he want to see him now?After their quarrel, he seemed to Enjolras perhaps to have become a piece of chewing gum sticking to the ground, both annoying, useless, and irreversible, just a sticky stick to the machine of justice. in the dirt.

"Éponine is at work today," said Enjolras at last, "and I will take Gavroche out."

"Oh," Grantaire said. "Eppaine"—when has it changed from "Mademoiselle Thénardier" to Éponine?His next words came out of his mouth without thinking, "So now her friend is you, huh?"

"...Grantaire." Enjolras said with a sigh.Grantaire shuts his mouth looking at his eyes — bloodshot eyes with blue undertones, tired eyes from working all night.He remembered what Courfeyrac had said, "Enjolras wanted to help them".Yes, Enjolras was always there for those in need.It's not his fault.If there's anything wrong with that it's Grantaire's too.While Enjolras was preparing the materials to be submitted to the prosecutor's office overnight, Grantaire was probably having a good time at the bar.He waved his hand.

"...Forget it." He said softly. "Come on." He said again, in order to hide his embarrassment, he raised a finger and pointed to his car, "Where are you going? Let me give you a ride."

Enjolras looked a little taken aback.He hesitated.

"That place is quite far away." He said, "It's more than two hours' drive. Don't you need to work today?"

Damn it. "I'm on vacation today." He said immediately, "I've been on... vacation lately." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, "What about you? You don't need to go to work? Two hours... You're going out of town? "

Enjolras stared at him for a moment.

"I'm actually going to work there," he said, continuing to check Grantaire's expression. "We're going to…"

He gave a name.A place name, a number, and then the word "prison".Grantaire realized it was a nearby district prison.In fact, it should be familiar to him there.Many of the serious prisoners he handled were imprisoned there, but what was Enjolras going to take Gavroche with?He met Enjolras' eyes, blue eyes that seemed to be considering his next reaction.

"We are going to visit Azma Thenardier. Before I represent Gavroche, I have something to discuss with her," said he, with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Would you like to come with us?"

Grantaire felt like someone had hit his temple with a small hammer.

"But I..." he protested softly.What would he use to face Azma?For six years he had been convincing himself to see her if he was ready, but no, he had never been.But it was strange, he couldn't bear the way Enjolras' eyes flickered slightly.It felt like he was making a decision, and he weighed it up, reaching out to Grantaire again.He knew that Enjolras would be pleased if he said yes.How silly it was, to think once again that Grantaire had a little conscience, a little warmth.Enjolras is sometimes too easy to understand.Grantaire opens his mouth and shuts it again, trying to please the man even though it's been over a month since their argument.But he couldn't make a decision, he didn't want to cheat a little appreciation and be scorned and thrown back to the ground.

Gavroche has been chewing a bubble gum.He blew the pink bubble out of his mouth and it popped and stuck to his nose.

"Please, Grantaire. Give us a ride," the kid said, not sure if he was rolling his eyes at Bubblegum or at them.He tore off the sticky stuff with his hands, "If Enjolras took me there, he would take me on a long-distance bus. Last time when the bus stopped by the side of the road, the driver asked his brother to get on the bus and ask us for money. Jorra gave away his entire purse."

"Gavroche," Enjolras warned.Grantaire saw his ears turn red.

He couldn't help laughing tentatively.

"... Seriously, Apollo?" The address naturally slipped out of his mouth when he was joking, "Never bring more than twenty dollars in cash when you take a long-distance bus, it's common sense."

"I don't think this is common sense," Enjolras said dryly.He doesn't look like he's tensed up by Grantaire's sneer or relaxed.He coughed lightly, "So... are you going? If you have other plans, I don't want to force you to help..."

He hadn't finished his sentence when the shrewd, witty Thenardier boy was out of his grasp.He made a beeline for Grantaire's car.

"... Gavroche!" Enjolras roared.

"Open the doors, gentlemen," he yelled nonchalantly, knocking on Grantaire's window with his fist, "I won't be in time to see my old lady if you keep talking!"

"Gavroche." Enjolras persuaded in vain, reaching out a hand to hold his forehead in frustration.His godly majesty was clearly useless against the monkey-like wild child, and the gesture of a helpless young father almost made Grantaire laugh.

"...Okay." He said softly, raised one hand and rubbed his nose, put the other hand in his pocket, found the car key, pressed the switch and opened the door.Gavroche gave him a thumbs up, and the messy brown curly head quickly got into the car and disappeared from their sight.

"Let me take you there." He didn't look at Enjolras, but looked at the sunlight reflected on his car window.It would be easier, he thought, to pretend that Gavroche had made this decision for him.Even though he hasn't slept in almost twenty hours and his stomach is still empty.It was just three hours of tiring driving, he thought, and it sounded much better than a bloodshot Enjolras taking Azma's children on one of those special buses to and from prison.

Enjolras let out a small, relieved sigh.Grantaire hopes he's not smiling, or his heart won't be able to take it.

"Thank you," said Enjolras.

All this became too much to refuse after Enjolras thanked him.

They were in Grantaire's car, Enjolras in the passenger seat and Gavroche in the back, trying to protest the seat belt laws.Enjolras fell asleep in less than half an hour, looking so tired that he slept so soundly, as if he hadn't been sitting in the passenger seat of some obnoxious man with the radio being blocked by Gavroche. Same as max volume.

"Hey, Grantaire." Gavroche kicked the back of his seat in an almost annoying way, "Can you stop looking at the passenger? You should look at the road—because you Drive on the road, not on this guy's sleeping face."

"Shut up, brat," Grantaire said.

It was almost noon when they arrived at their destination.Grantaire took out his driver's license to register, followed by a pile of forms, a security check, a pile of consent forms.Enjolras had only booked two visitors before, so Grantaire had to go through an extra set of cumbersome procedures.By the time he was allowed to enter the waiting room, Enjolras and Gavroche were already sitting in the visiting room.Grantaire watched the scene through the glass: it was a bit like an elementary school classroom.Many small square iron tables are neatly stacked in a room the size of a basketball court. The door on one side of the room is connected to the waiting room, and the other side is connected to the corridor leading to the interior of the prison.Two prison guards stood at each door. The prison guard at one side opened the door and ushered inmates in light handcuffs and prison uniforms into the room, where they sat on one side of one of the tables; The door of the waiting room with a glass wall allows visitors to enter.Then the door closes again.Free men were locked in rooms, and prisoners in prison were released into the open.In such a space filled with tables, they were locked together.Grantaire took a deep breath - he didn't like this place.Even though he sent many people here, he never came.How ironic, he thought, for a coward to stand behind bars and watch his own accomplishments.From a distance he saw the golden head of Enjolras sitting behind one of the tables, with Gavroche next to him.The chair across from them was still empty, Azma hadn't arrived yet.He flinched, turned around, and sat on a chair in the waiting room.He hoped with all his heart that Enjolras and their conversation would last long enough to use up the visiting hours.That way he wouldn't have to walk into that room again, and face that girl he hadn't seen in years.

Of course, his hopes were dashed.

"Azma wants to see you," Enjolras said as soon as he came out.

Grantaire bit his lower lip.

"Can I say no?" he whispered.

Enjolras waved the paper in his hand towards him.

"I'm filling out the registration for you," he said. "You have to go."

You're ordering me again now, Grantaire thought.You know I'm sure I'll listen.He looked at Enjolras who had lowered his head to help him fill out the form, and a strange feeling filled his heart.Alas, Enjolras.you know mine.Alas, Enjolras.

When he walked in, Azma was already waiting for him behind the little desk that belonged to her.

She was wearing a short-sleeved orange prison uniform, with her hair cropped short and light handcuffs on her hands.The last time Grantaire saw her was when her case was sentencing, she was bony and malnourished, with only her pregnant belly bulging awkwardly, her waxy cheeks surrounded by tangled yellow curls. Grantaire was even worried that she wouldn't survive the birth of the baby.Surprisingly, however, nearly six years in prison didn't make her situation worse — rather, ironically — it made her look better.She looked fatter, darker and healthier.Grantaire looked at her hesitantly, pulled away the chair opposite her, and sat down cautiously.

"Hi, Azma," he said softly.

"Grantaire," the girl said.

Grantaire felt her voice change too.The Thenardier sisters were beautiful when they were in junior high, and Azma was even prettier then Éponine.Grantaire remembered how she would flirt with boys with her alluring voice, rolling her quick-witted brown eyes—now that was gone, her voice a little hoarse, but very calm and gentle.The fine lines around those brown eyes made her look older than Éponine.However, the sly look in her eyes did not disappear.She blinked and looked directly at Grantaire.A very shallow smile appeared on the corner of her mouth.

"This is your first visit to me," she said.

Grantaire felt his back tighten.

"...I'm sorry, I—" he stammered.But what excuses can you find now?too busy?Can't get away?It all sucks.He's just a cowardly bastard, there's no other explanation—

"It's okay," Azma said, "I understand."

"No, you don't understand," Grantaire said immediately.He almost wanted to leave here immediately, it was too shameful, who would have thought that he would collapse after just saying a word to her? "I know I'm a..."

"Grantaire." The brown-haired girl interrupted him gently, "I really understand."

Grantaire fell silent.He looked into the girl's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Azma looked at him. "Apologize for not coming to see me?"

"No," Grantaire shook his head, "because you're here, I..."

"Oh, Grantaire," Azma said softly, "I'm not here because of you."

Grantaire froze.

"Azma, I..." He looked up at her, tried to take her hand from the table, but flinched in the end.He felt himself shrink into a tiny spot on the chair.How did she know what he wanted to say?

The short-haired girl looked at him.

"Enjolras told me you've been thinking about it," she said.

"Oh," Grantaire said, "Enjolras," he whispered.Always Enjolras.He shouldn't have been upset by Azma's friendly tone when he said the name.After all, who in this world cannot be trusted by Enjolras?

But why did he tell Azma about it again?

"He has visited me many times," Azma said slowly.She looked at Grantaire with the insightful look that the Thenardier sisters had. "My father came to see me when his case started. It's strange that he remembers me, isn't he? He seems to miss me more than my parents." She smiled self-deprecatingly, "Then he told me that you are also in this case."

ah.Grantaire thought.Great Enjolras.Always right Enjolras.Why does he always do the right thing so easily?Visiting an unfortunate person, a girl who has nothing to do with the case, a small corner of the investigation report, is meaningless to his defense, just because he happens to know her existence during the investigation, he will immediately send his care.

"Yeah. That's what he is," Grantaire said bitterly.Why can't he do what Enjolras can do?He should have come to see the poor girl.It should have been him.He was the one who pushed the girl behind the miserable bars, and it was Enjolras who did it in the end.

Azma stopped speaking.She lightly clasped her hands with extremely short nails, and raised her head to look at Grantaire.For some reason, she looked hesitant.

"When he mentioned you to me for the first time, I didn't quite believe it." She said carefully, "He told me about your appearance, words, and personality, but it didn't sound like you." She paused Dun, "I saw you today, and I understood. You look...very different."

"Very different?" Grantaire repeated.

She hesitated.

"You look more... uncertain," she said, "but you didn't look like that. You used to look..."

oh.Grantaire thought, I see.He understood what Azma was going to say.After all, Azma lost her freedom too early, when the Grantaire she once knew—the Grantaire Enjolras met seven years ago—has only an afterimage left.He gave a wry smile.

"...more like a smug bastard?" he said.

"More determined," Azma said. "Be more complacent. I always say some childish stupid things, thinking that I can be the savior. At that time, Eponine and I thought you were stupid and unreasonable. Obviously we all had similar miserable lives and grew up in a mess. Why do you always think you can make things better? The first time I saw that blond boy, that Enjolras, I listened to him, and I thought I saw—”

"No," Grantaire said curtly, "stop saying that." You're insulting him by comparing me to him, he thought.But didn't say it.He waved his hand—a pain welled up inside him.Why do people keep reminding him of who he used to be these days?But he is long gone.The world he saw in his eyes had long been different from what it was then.

"It's that self-satisfied fool who sent you to jail," he said. "Don't you think maybe it's a good thing he's changed?"

Azma said nothing.Grantaire was "encouraged" by her deliberate expression—yes, he was right in accusing himself.Azma didn't want to admit it, but she didn't want to break his heart.

"You see, this is how it is." He chased after the victory, and continued to "analyze" himself, "I am a selfish villain, and you must know it. I used to think that I could do something, but maybe it was just A kind of self-satisfaction is at work. Azma, have you ever hated me? I have always felt that you should hate me all these years. I dare not come to see you because I know you hate me. You have too many reasons to hate me .You and I both know what you went through before you got handcuffed, and yet I'm standing across from you with a law that shoots at poor people and asking them to convict you. Yeah, yeah— Even if it wasn't me, someone else would do it. But why me? Why must it be me? Only I shouldn't stand there, comparing you with one hand and pointing at the criminal law with the other, and keep saying that you are guilty. That's right, there is nothing written in black and white in the indictment that you haven't done. But how did things become like this? We always push those who are already alone and helpless to a more miserable situation..."

He babbled, talking nonsense again, as if just to vent.But what happened next stopped him: Azma's hands on the table suddenly lifted up, reached out to him, and took his hand.Her hands were dry and rough, not like a girl's hands anymore.The hands first hesitantly and tentatively placed on the back of Grantaire's hand, and then, after she was sure that he would not avoid it, she slowly curled her fingers and held his.

Grantaire seemed to have his tongue stuck, and now he couldn't say anything.

"It's me," she said.

"what?"

"It wasn't you," Azma said. "It was me. Grantaire, it was me—it was me, I put myself in jail. Like you said, in black and white — I wasn't charged with anything Never did."

Grantaire shook his head at her.

"That man," he said, "what's his last name? Garcia, or Goncharez? Those Mexican names . . . Here. But they... they just don't care about this kind of thing. But I was—too much."

Azma tightened her grip on Grantaire's fingers.

"I don't blame you for this." She said very slowly, but very forcefully, "Grantaire. There was a time when I really hated you—but not for that. Not because you put me in jail , but because you didn't save me sooner. Why can't you save me like you saved Eponine? She is a friend you care about, and I'm just her humble little sister. It would be nice if I was your friend too How much I wanted to get rid of my parents, I reached out to everyone who wasn't them, hoping someone would pull me out of the mud. But I wasn't as lucky as Eponine! I caught... I caught Goncharez." Her jaw quivered as she said the name—Grantaire remembered the name, the drug dealer who controlled her and raped her.At this time, he was either sleeping forever in the soil, or rotting in a prison cell with a sentence of hundreds of years.Azma's fingers tightened even more, almost making Grantaire's knuckles ache, "Ah, I should have told you earlier... what a relief it was to me to be sent to prison! You really are Saved me. Do you understand?"

Grantaire was taken aback by the words.

"What do you mean?" he said. "How can going to prison be a relief?"

Azma smiled bitterly.

"When I was with Goncharez," she said slowly, "he hit me, raped me, made me swallow a safety// condom full of drugs, good help He transported these things across the border. Didn't they find out when they arrested me? I was still pregnant! If one of them broke, I would die, and Gavroche..." Her lips Shaking again, "Gavroche is already a pile of ashes."

Grantaire bit his lower lip.Yes, he knew all these things, he had seen them time and time again in those inspection reports and perspective photos.He squeezed Azma's fingers back tightly.

"Under those circumstances, it's hard to imagine how long you'll live, is it?" Azma said softly, "I wanted to die so badly, I thought I might have lost my mind. You probably don't know, I'm looking forward to my conviction. Once I'm in jail, Goncharez will never harass me again. Without all the beatings, sex//abuse//treatment, endless trembling through customs...I can even Sitting quietly in the hospital, delivering the baby. You helped me, you know? Grantaire...you helped me."

"...Azma," Grantaire murmured.He felt his eyes begin to swell.It was so tragic, it was even more tragic than he had imagined.How could he be happy about it?The prison turned out to be the last shelter for this poor girl... However, is it true?At least he didn't make her life worse, at least - even - he helped her in this miserable way?

"...Did I help you?" He asked softly.

"More than you think," Azma said.She pointed to herself with a thumb awkwardly, "Look, Grantaire... I survived. I even... even had some hope. Didn't you do other things too? Goncha Rez...I'll never see him again. When I leave here one day, I don't have to worry about him dragging me back to hell."

"...oh," Grantaire said.He felt his throat choked, but it was no longer pain, but a strange sourness, "Your sentence...how long is your sentence?"

"It will be halfway through next year." She said, because the next words were so uncertain that she seemed a little coy and awkward, "Enjolras... Enjolras said that he is willing to help me apply for a commutation of sentence."

Grantaire wishes he didn't cry, but gave her a smile.

"He will," he said.

Azma smiled awkwardly.That hopeful gleam in her eyes grows a little bigger again, and Grantaire doesn't even dare to look at her.

"I hope..." she said hesitantly, "I hope I...I hope I don't miss out on too much of my son's life."

Grantaire squeezes her fingers.If he didn't say anything else he would really cry.

"You won't," he said quickly. "At least...at least you can send him to college. You can definitely catch up with sending him to college."

The light in her eyes could even be said to be dazzling at this moment.

"He's going to college..." she murmured.Grantaire knew what that phrase meant to her.All the chances of life and youth she had missed!He thought of Eponine who started working part-time before finishing high school, and he thought of the round-faced boy last night.At this moment he couldn't hold back the tears.A drop of water slid down the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry...sorry," he said intermittently, "I'm sorry I didn't help you earlier. I'm sorry I..."

"...shh," said the girl in front of him, "shhh. Don't be stupid. I survived, and I'm going to live on. Isn't that enough?"

He tried to steady his voice.

"Will you forgive me?" he sobbed.

"Of course I forgive you," she said. "Of course I forgive you."

He fell down on the cold iron table, crying loudly.He had forgotten the last time in his life that he cried like this.Attracted by his voice, the people around turned their heads to look at him.He shouldn't be like this, he thought, how could he cry like this, a free man to someone behind bars?This is so weird.Azma held his hand and looked at him so kindly and kindly.This attitude almost made Grantaire feel ashamed—this woman in handcuffs is so powerful, at this moment, she is actually comforting Grantaire.

He didn't stop shaking until the whistle sounded for the end of visiting hours.

"Is what you said today true?" He couldn't help but ask.People around were getting up and leaving one after another, but he couldn't help but ask again.He needed so much to make sure that he was really, really forgiven, that he had really, really done something good for Azma. "You didn't say this because Enjolras asked you to persuade me to help Gavroche..."

"My God, Grantaire," she said, shaking his hand and looking at him, "of course I mean it. I mean everything I say. As for Enjolras, he didn't ask me for anything... …" She pauses, then flashes a bright smile at Grantaire, "He's just been talking about you."

Before Grantaire could realize what the words meant, she stood up.She was taken from the room.She even smiled back at him before the heavy iron door closed.

And Grantaire just stared blankly at her disappearing behind the door.Before he could react, he had been led out of the visiting room.It wasn't until Enjolras stood up from the bench in the waiting room with a look of panic that he realized that his face was still full of tears.

"Are you okay?" Enjolras said, walking quickly to his side, with a worried look in his eyes.

Grantaire shook his head at him.He didn't know if he was crying or smiling now.But he tried to put on a smile.

"Do you know Tantalus*, Enjolras?" he whispered. "He has done wrong. There is a boulder on his head that could fall at any moment and tear him to pieces. He lives with anxiety every day and dares not move. .The stone has not killed his body, his spirit has been crushed by the pressure."

Enjolras looked at him.

"What are you talking about?" he said worriedly and blankly.

Grantaire studied his face.Alas, Enjolras.Sweet Enjolras.He still doesn't know what he has done.He shook his head slightly.

"That stone is gone now," he said.

TBC

The son of Zeus, the main god in Greek mythology, was favored by the gods at first, and won a great honor that is not easy for others to get.As a result, Tantalus became arrogant and insulted the gods, so he was cast into hell and suffered eternal torment: thirsty but unable to drink, hungry but unable to eat, a huge stone hung above his head forever, making him bear the fear of death.