Guess who's writing AU fics instead of thinking about A Challenge... that would be me. So this goes along with my other fic of warmth in the way that they're both in the same universe but on different timelines. I'd say this one comes before that one though. There's a bit of violence but it's definitely not described in detail and it's not anything too bad. Abuse warning I guess? Sorry for any mistakes, as always I try to catch them as well as I can.
Eponine realized later, that she'd made many mistakes in the course of the day.
Her shift at work did not start until later than evening and until Gavroche returned from school she would be left alone to her own devices – finding ways to keep herself entertained. The thought to text Grantaire or Jehan, neither of which were holding down regular jobs at the moment, crossed her mind but she didn't want to seem like a bother. Besides, Grantaire was probably still asleep and she would hate to distract Jehan from any of the poetry he would put his mind to. Instead, Eponine relented to just spending the day with herself while the rest of the people she knew lead their own lives.
The next two hours passed slowly and time ticked away toward the afternoon. Eponine had accepted the stillness of the apartment (at least until Gavroche would make his way home with stories of his friends and lessons from the public school) and her position on the couch in front of the random daily talk shows she enjoyed had grown rather comfortable.
Of course, she should have known that a knock on the door at eleven in the morning was a sign of things to come. She never got visitors this early.
With a bounce in her step, Eponine immediately moved to the door, forgoing placing the chain in and instead unlocking the door to pull it open.
That had been her first mistake, and perhaps the biggest.
A heavy force pushed the door forward and in what seemed like a blur, she found herself shoved against the wall violently. The fear rose in her eyes when the male placed his hand tightly over her mouth, muffling any screams that she could voice. But she would not do something – no, Eponine never screamed when Montparnasse was in the picture.
The silence fell between the two of them, the only noise filling the void coming from the overly excited women chattering on the television show. Still, Eponine stared at the man holding her back, her eyes wild.
"Dear 'Ponine… it's been a while."
It had been five months – five months since she'd thought walking away would be the best option. Honestly she was surprised he'd left her alone as long as he had (one thing she'd always liked about Parnasse was his possessive streak) and seeing him now made the fear mix with the smallest feeling of longing. Had she missed Montparnasse? Yes. She'd missed when he would slip flowers behind her ears in her sleep or how he would come back from work almost too exhausted to move; yet he always managed to hold her before they'd go to bed. But she hadn't missed the bruises and the constant apologizing and broken promises of never doing it again. Eponine was not dumb – she knew she was in a text book abusive relationship but goddamnit she was a grown woman and if she wanted to take a few bruises here and there for companionship then it was her own prerogative. Leaving him had not been a thought until Gavroche had found her one night, an eye too swollen to see from and battered knuckles from fighting back. She couldn't allow him to see her like that any longer.
Gavroche had saved her life and yet he would never even know.
Parnasse paused for a moment, his hand still on Eponine's mouth. He leaned back, stretching his body toward the still open door to push it closed. Eponine saw a moment of escape, as his hand loosened.
Biting down hard on his skin was the second mistake she made.
Montparnasse yelped before his beautiful face curled into anger and rage. "You little bitch!" His voice was booming and loud and before she realized it, a crunching noise and vicious pain surrounded her all at once. Eponine slowly fell down to the floor and as the shock registered, she reached up and gingerly touched her nose. Immediately she hissed in pain and pulled her fingers away, trying to ignore the red liquid covering them.
The man kneeled down, his fingers lightly inspecting Eponine's injury. It seemed that in an instant he had changed to a completely different person. Now his eyes, instead of the violence they held before, looked soft and held guilt. "Eponine… I'm… I don't…" He was stretching for something to explain his actions but she'd made him mad. She'd bit him for christ's sake! If anything he was just defending himself.
"Parnasse," she started, her voice hoarse and quiet, "I need a towel." This was all too familiar to her. After Montparnasse hurt her, he'd always retreat into some sort of shell; a shell that was vaguely familiar of a young boy who'd done something wrong. The man nodded and stood, helping Eponine to her feet as well. He led her to the couch, his actions gentle and soft. Once she was sitting, Montparnasse hesitated before retreating to the bathroom. She heard the sink running and the sound of Montparnasse shuffling around. Eponine glanced toward her cell phone, merely inches away from her on the couch – it was her escape. She could send a text in seconds and this would all be over. No. Montparnasse wasn't a bad guy. And there was no way she wanted any of her friends involved with this sort of thing.
It was her battle alone.
Montparnasse returned to the living room and sat beside Eponine, the space between them farther than she'd expected. She took the damp towel from his hands and lightly pressed it against her face, wiping where she assumed the blood was. "You broke my nose," she began, her eyes finding Montparnasse, though he was staring at his hands. "Montparnasse!" He swiftly glanced up and Eponine saw the sad little boy there – the boy who had gone through just as much as she.
Forgiving him that instant was her third mistake.
"I'm sorry, 'Ponine."
He delved into his apology; how he missed her, how she'd just left without word and he was so worried, and mostly how she just made him so angry sometimes and he couldn't help himself. Everything was familiar to her but she let him explain, nodding here and there when she felt appropriate. When he came to an end, he stared at her and suddenly Eponine wasn't sure how to react. She knew how to calm him down but she wasn't sure how to get him out of her home without angering him again.
"I saw you with that guy. The other night – he kissed you downstairs."
Actually Eponine had kissed Enjolras first and had suffered for it since he hadn't returned a call or text in four days. But correcting Montparnasse seemed out of the question.
"It's nothing 'Parnasse. I promise. Maybe you should go – Gavroche will be home soon."
The sudden action of Montparnasse jumping to his feet frightened Eponine and she gasped, no longer trying to appear in control or strong in front of the man. "I loved you. No. I love you. And what do you feel for me, huh? Nothing? That's what you treat me like." Eponine frowned, wanting so desperately to question why he hit her or why he treated her like a second rate person. Instead she stayed quiet, holding the towel to her face again. Her eyes dropped, staring harshly toward the dirty carpet.
"Fine." His word left as a hiss and he stepped around Eponine, heading toward the door. A heavy breath left the woman – it was over. She'd survived another round and had come out with only a bloody nose. Well, she'd done worse.
"I am sorry," Montparnasse repeated, pausing near the door to glance over his shoulder toward her.
She looked up and met his eyes, seeing once again the innocent eyes of the man she'd loved before. "I forgive you."
No more than a mere second after the door shut, leaving Eponine alone with her thoughts, she felt the tears leave her eyes. Cruel sobs escaped her body as she shook, the fear and shame she felt making itself known. Eponine clutched her cellphone, composing a text as quick as her shaking fingers would allow.
'S.O.S. Montparnasse.'
Less than twenty letters that she knew would bring Enjolras to her side in no more than ten minutes. She stared hard at the lit screen, her finger hovering over the send button. With a heavy sigh, she wiped her cheeks and ignored the mix of mascara, blood, and tears that now stained the back of her hand. Eponine cleared the message away – another secret that she would keep. She fell down the stairs. Or she had been mugged.
The truth was not welcome in Eponine's mind.