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"Hey. I'm Lucifer."
Grantaire drops what he's holding and it smashes. He looks down at the liquid spilling out, red and thick and dark. He looks back up to find a man in a suit opposite him.
He looks broken, like a patchwork person that constantly loses pieces before getting sown back on. He looks normal apart from that but Grantaire knows he's anything but.
He's been here before; sat beside him as he drank himself to oblivion. He's like the little monster conjured by the alcohol but he can't quit the drinking so there's Satan, sitting in front of him like he does every night when Grantaire paints pictures of Enjolras while he's so stoned that he burns the paintings for warmth in the morning.
"You aren't real." He says firmly but quietly so not to attract attention.
"No? But what is real anyway? Oops. Excuse you." Lucifer slides along the bench as Éponine sits down.
"Hey R. I got you this." She tosses a beer bottle to him which he catches and drinks.
"Look who's digging their own grave, that is what they all say." Lucifer sings, moving onto the table as Éponine talks to Grantaire. "You'll drink yourself to death."
Trying to block him out, Grantaire takes another drink and nods, listening to Éponine as she talks about something; he thinks it's Combeferre by the way the 'he' is explained.
"So we went round to the library and-"
"Look who makes their own bed, lies right down in it, what will you have left?" Lucifer walks across the table and sits down beside him, breathing down his neck. "What will you have left when he's gone, huh?" He asks, his tone far scarier than any horror movie. Grantaire's head jerks towards Enjolras and Lucifer snaps his fingers.
Everything explodes around him and he's alone. He drops his drink again but when it shatters this time he knows what is seeping out into the floorboards: blood.
"Stop! Stop messing with me." Grantaire leaps up and rounds on the devil who simply laughs, returning everything.
"R, you alright?" Éponine is up beside him and holding his arm. Grantaire can't hear her over Lucifer's singing.
"Icarus is flying to close to the sun, and Icarus' life is only just begun. This is how it feels to take a fall." Grantaire is falling. Darkness engulfs him and the light above him shrinks as he screams, desperately trying to claw his way to a stop. "Icarus is flying towards an early grave." The words fill his head, swirling like blood in water. Twisting and turning and warping into horrible, gravely laughter.
"Make it stop. Please stop." He begs and he hits the ground. "No." He breathes as he watches his friends get shot in a row, one after the other.
"Grantaire." Enjolras says weakly, reaching out to him and Grantaire cries.
"Stop this! You're not real. This isn't real."
Lucifer appears beside Enjolras and turns his pale face away, drawing blood as he scratches down his neck.
"You're not real. Not real. Not real." Grantaire repeats like a mantra, blocking out Enjolras' screams of his name.
"If you can see it, it's real." Lucifer says and lets go of Enjolras. His body falls down and lands on the floor beside Grantaire.
Grantaire sobs, taking Enjolras' hand and pressing it to his face. "Please. Please. This isn't real. You can't. I love him."
Lucifer just laughs.
They can hear me, Grantaire thinks through the roaring of his mind, Éponine heard me so they can.
"Enjolras. I love you. I'm sorry." He yells as loud as he can manage because his throat is dry.
"Oooh. Clever boy. Final message to your love. Cute. Seeing as that was meant to be your last words, it would be fitting to end you now."
Grantaire doesn't feel any pain but he can see the blood on his chest and feel it filling him up inside.
"Sleep well, Vietnam." Lucifer says and everything fades to the Musain.
"Grantaire?" Enjolras is leaning over him as Grantaire coughs violently, spraying blood across the floor. "Oh god. You can't be dying."
At the word dying, Joly is immediately beside him closely followed by Combeferre. Grantaire whimpers as they poke his ribs and frown.
"Something make holes in every vital organ in his body. He's choking on his own blood." Joly concludes and Enjolras stops breathing for a second.
"No. He's not allowed to die. How did this happened?" He demands, looking for answers he'll never get.
"Enjolras. I love you. I'm sorry." Grantaire repeats, blood spilling from his mouth.
"I love you too, Taire. I love you." Enjolras holds him tightly. A small sobbing sound escapes his lips and Enjolras, their fearless friend who never gets teary eyed, begins crying over Grantaire's limp body.
"I love you."