Combeferre is running to the soldier again, his shoes slipping in gore. When the first bayonet thrusts into him, he shouts but keeps moving, and then he hears a thunk right beside him, right where Courfeyrac should be, and he doesn't want to look. He doesn't want to see Courfeyrac fallen--

--and then he hears Courfeyrac talking cheerily of wine, and he turns around and sits up with an "Eh?"

He's in a bed. Enjolras's bed, in this strange afterlife--Milliways. He is dead.

He looks around the room and sees Enjolras--dead, too, but seemingly otherwise. And facing Enjolras is Courfeyrac, unhurt and smiling.

Combeferre shoves off the blankets and stumbles out of bed.