Important notes:
The AU is the Walking Dead, but if you haven't seen the show, it's essentially a zombie apocalypse AU.
Some characters, (at this point only two, but more to come) have been genderbent.
Also, I'm using my personal fancast, so if you're confused by someone's description, that's probably why. A hint of two that are very changed:
Marius is Logan Lerman (literally though, he is exactly the brick description)
Valjean is Morgan Freeman (HATERS GONNA HATE BUT I MEAN I LOVE THIS CASTING SO MUCH welifilfbuiwuff)
Montparnasse aimed slowly. From his perspective in the trees, the buck looked dumb and oblivious to the rifle aimed at its heart. He licked his cherry lips. Maybe, if his keepers were proud enough, he and the other kids could have something to eat that night. His finger itched to pull the trigger and only hesitated when there was the crunching of leaves nearby the buck- his buck. Montparnasse shook it off as being a walker or another forest animal.
And he fired the gun. The bullet ripped through the thick skin and flesh of the animal, but its path didn't stop there. Montparnasse saw things as if in slow motion. The bullet emerged from the other side of the buck, and standing there was a beautiful girl, enough to rival (and possibly beat) the Thérnardier girls. He watched helplessly as the bits of the bullet struck her chest and she collapsed with a feminine cry.
At once, two bulky men appeared behind her, one shouting and lunging for the girl and the other glaring at Montparnasse.
"Cosette! My darling Cosette!" The man on the ground cried, holding the girl with his aged-wrinkled hands. The other man, a tall figure with red hair and kind eyes that were too cold to emit the kindness he had the potential of sharing. Montparnasse jumped down from the tree and tried to go to the pair on the ground- a father and daughter if he had to guess.
"You stay back." The red-head snarled. Montparnasse was shoved roughly away and then he debated. These two, if the case called for it, could easily overtake his keepers. Maybe… Maybe they were salvation in the strangest form.
"I know a place where she can be treated." Montparnasse said. Both pairs of eyes snapped to him then, and soon the girl's ragged breathing was all that filled the clearing. "The Gorbeu plantation."
"Don't ya see anythin' worth eating?" Thérnardier snapped. The madame rolled her eyes and indicated her empty basket.
"Does it look like I got anythin'?" She threw the wicker thing to the ground and stomped- it was enough to rattle the ground under her monstrous feet. "I don't know if any of this is edible!"
"Pick it anyway." Thérnardier ordered. "We can give it to the brats and have 'em test it for us."
"Those are your children." The madame always drew the line there- knocking her children around was alright- beating them was fine- but possibly killing them?
"I was talkin' about the other three! Y'know, Gueulemer, 'Parnasse and that Pontmercy fellow." Thérnardier picked up a particularly fat berry and sniffed it before recoiling. "Don't seem to matter none, anyway. None of these seems to be any good. "
"So this entire trip wa' a waste?" The madame yanked at her baggy, expensive top (not the best choice for the situation, honestly) and fanned her skin with her beefy hand. Her dark hair was stuck to her golden skin, and for a moment the puny, gray-skinned, gray-haired man remembered when she was beautiful and thin, a little Hispanic chica he ran into while in jail.
He was pulled from reminisce by sounds of running. He looked and saw two unfamiliar and terrifying looking men rushing the mansion with Montparnasse being pulled behind them. Thérnardier saw the guns, and counted his lucky stars that half of their supplies were at the neighboring house.
"Looks like we can no longer enjoy our life o' luxury, darling." Thérnardier grabbed his wife's arm and lugged her into the woods. "They're gonna take over the house, they are."
"They are men alone with our daughters!" Madame was, once again, shocked at her husband's heartlessness. The man shrugged and continued walking away.
"Let the brats fend for themselves."
There was yelling; that's what Éponine first registered. Azelma looked over at her and it was clear that they were both thinking the same thing.
Who is that fucking idiot?
It could possibly be their parents, but Éponine doubted that. Her father, overall, was a clever man who occasionally made stupid decisions. Like what he did to ensure that he still had their free labor. Éponine glanced nervously around the spacious kitchen. Her handcuffs (stolen from the animated corpse of a police officer) kept her tied to the oven, while Azelma's kept her to the fridge. If she were to open the door, she would see Marius, Gavroche and Gueulemer similarly restrained.
Gueulemer and Montparnasse's group sold them for a sum of five cans of corn beef hash, willingly paid for by her parents who now had masculine labor. (Poor Marius was not suited to the farm life, despite having lived on the Plantation since the age of three) Thérnardier kept his daughters and wife in the kitchen, insisting that it was a woman's place and that they were not allowed to argue. Oftentimes, Éponine found herself locked in her room and gagged because of talking back.
She didn't know when her parents' insides went so dark. They'd never been good people, but their snug little country-side house contained a few family memories. And then the world went to hell.
The Thérnardiers seized the opportunity to move into a higher class- not that there was any comparison anymore. Their next door neighbors, The Guillemonds, were booted out (except for Marius, who, at the time, was Éponine's boyfriend of a few months), and the family lived in style.
But now, their 'home' appeared in danger because of these yelling idiots. Footsteps pounded on the front steps and Éponine heard the front door be flung open. The yelling was still continuing- and it was an unfamiliar voice.
Montparnasse burst into the kitchen, his face flushed and his narrow chest heaving. He ran for the kitchen knives and broke Éponine's chains, all while she watched dumb-struck.
"What's going on?"
"Medical… Attention… Needed." Was all he could muster. Éponine seemed to understand, though, and ran for where Montparnasse indicated the intruders were. In one of the guest bedrooms, two men were shouting at each other over the motionless and bloody body of a girl only a few years Éponine's senior.
"Shut up!" She shouted. They did and looked over at her. She felt almost naked under their protective scrutiny- it was obvious that the girl meant a lot to both of them. Éponine knew that she was not the ideal doctor, especially not for someone in such a state. She was a smallish girl of barely eighteen with bruised and battered skin, and matted hair that remained tangled no matter how many times she took advantage of their still-running water.
"Your friend," The younger of the two spoke, narrowing his green eyes. With the combination of his narrowed eyes, his bristled appearance, and his ginger whiskers, he appeared to Éponine to be a cat about to pounce. "Shot her. You owe it to us to fix her."
She frowned at this. Montparnasse was a great shot, and he wouldn't hit a girl, especially not one so pretty. He really did like pretty things, this strange new edition to her family's survival group. "How?" She asked.
The weary one who seemed to want to be at the girl's side at all times spoke up. "He shot a buck and the bullet went through and hit her."
"It was an accident; So we owe you nothing." Éponine said mildly to the ginger man. "But I'll help you anyway." She got close to the girl and cleared her throat. The ginger man left the room awkwardly, but the one with white hair refused to. Although he and the girl looked nothing alike (the girl on the bed had light strawberry hair and creamy skin with the hint of a sunburn while the man had brown skin wrinkled by the sun and dark hair striping through the white), he appeared to be her father in everything but blood.
She set to work, gingerly removing the girl's top. She left the worn sports bra on for the sake of the father, but continued inspecting. She sighed in relief- her limited medical expertise would not be much of an issue. The pieces of the bullet- there were only three of them- had barely even pierced her skin and were visible through the wounds. The large amount of blood was due to what seemed to be a rock that lodged itself in her scalp as she- presumably- fell. Headwounds bled a lot.
"She'll be fine. It's not a serious injury." She told the man. He looked at her warily.
"Cosette was shot."
"Yes," Éponine resisted sarcasm. "I can see that. The bullet pieces are very few and shallow. They can easily be removed without surgery and with a few days' rest, she can be back… Wherever you guys were before."
"Can we stay here until she is well?" The man asked. "My name is Valjean, by the way. My… friend… out there is Javert and this is my daughter, Cosette."
"I'm called Éponine… The boy who brought you here is Montparnasse." Éponine responded. "How many are in your group? I doubt it's just the three of you."
"Your doubts are correct." Valjean said. "There are many in our make-shift family. Including my wife, Fantine. She needs to know what happened to Cosette, and Enjolras will need to be restrained and held from… Montparnasse was his name?"
"Yes. Who is Enjolras?"
"Her older brother. He and his friends make up the rest of our group, along with a strange church warden by the name of Mabeuf." Valjean said. "Could you possibly send word? We are camped on the highway and I cannot bear to leave Cosette. Javert will not want to leave us alone with strangers, either."
"I understand." Éponine said. She found herself liking Valjean more and more by the moment. He had the kindly aura of a grandfather and yet the aggressive protective personality of a father. His voice was that of a movie narrator and lulled Éponine into trusting- something she never did, not even with her family or Marius. "I will send my sister."
"Mrs. Valjean, I'm sure that everything's going to be alright-" Bossuet tried to tell her, but she simply shot him a hard look and returned to simultaneously watching the horizon and Enjolras, who was keeping watch high in a tree.
Fantine nearly cried with relief when she heard loud, determined footsteps through the trees, but when she realized they were not human, her heart sank within her chest.
"Marc, what is it?" She asked her son. He rolled his eyes.
"It's Enjolras, mom, and it's…" He stumbled off and peered at something in the distance. "A girl… On a horse."
"Is it your sister?" She asked. He shrugged.
"The hair color is similar, but I think she's too skinny." Enjolras climbed down with calculated moves that he acquired surprisingly quickly for someone who lived his whole life in the city. "I'll go meet her half way- we don't want to attract any walkers."
"No," Fantine said distractedly, not noticing that her son was long gone. "We don't."
Bossuet rubbed his bald head and looked over to Grantaire, who shrugged and took a sip of whisky. She sighed contentedly and curled around the flask as if it was a stuffed animal.
"Grantaire! Put the whisky back in the first aid kit, we need that!" Joly chastised and snatched it away from her grip. She reached dramatically for it before falling back lazily into her previous spot. Jehan laughed and made his way over to his good friend.
"Try this." He handed her another flask. Grantaire took a sip and spat it out quickly.
"God, what is that?" She shook her tongue as if trying to rid herself of the taste.
"Water." Jehan said, trying not to laugh. She shot him a death glare, but even then sank into his arms.
It was then that Enjolras stumbled back into the camp, a young girl on horseback right behind them. He looked panicked and angry- a mix not suited for Enjolras. Combeferre noted it and put all the guns out of his friend's sight.
"Mom, you need to come quick. Cosette's been shot."
While Éponine was delicately removing the bullet from Cosette, Montparnasse stood with Javert in the living room while the former tried to break the other three boys out of their restraints. The latter looked on with a cool eye.
"Is there a particular reason that these children are being treated like animals?" Javert spat. He wasn't a big fan of Montparnasse- then again, also not of anyone in his group save the Valjean family. Even then, he was on thin ice around Enjolras.
"Éponine's parents… They don't want us to run away. The three of us were out, me Mr. Thérnardier, and Mrs. We were getting food.. They won't be too pleased to come back and see them all free, but…" Montparnasse trailed off.
Javert understood, to a certain extent. His representation of understanding was given in a much-appreciated silence. Once the smallest boy was released- a scraggly thing no older than twelve, he ran up the stairs two at a time without saying thank you to Montparnasse.
"Thankless little fucker." Montparnasse said fondly. The other two rubbed their wrists and observed Javert with even stares. One was bulky and rather stupid looking, with a face disfigured from too much fighting. The other was slight and rather pretty, with long dark hair and a smooth face.
Just then, hooves were heard nearby and the front door once again opened with a bang. A thunderstorm of stomping filled the entryway as Fantine rushed in.
"Where is she? Where is my baby?" She begged of Javert. The man's face softened and he gently led her to the stairs.
"Second door on the right." He told her. She thanked him with a sloppy kiss on the cheek and sprinted there.
In the meantime, Enjolras stalked in, holding the youngest Thérnardier girl by the elbow. She was protesting and finally yanked away from him, rubbing the spot indignantly.
"Is he the one?" Enjolras asked her. She nodded, and Enjolras strode right over to Montparnasse with a raised fist. Jehan and Combeferre lunged for him and pressed him to the ground while he yelled at the other boy. "THAT WAS MY SISTER, YOU BASTARD!"
"Enjolras, calm down," Jehan begged. "It won't do anything to fight amongst the living."
Enjolras did, eventually, stop squirming enough that his friends felt comfortable enough to release him. Feuilly watched quietly from behind her cousin, Bahorel, whose fists were unclenching once it became clear that a fight was not going to happen.
Fantine slowly came down the stairs and made her way back inside the room, looking exhausted but considerably calmer. Enjolras took his mother by the shoulders and she managed a white-toothed smile up at him.
"She's going to be okay, thanks to a little girl who knows medicine." Fantine said. Enjolras frowned and looked over at Joly and Combeferre.
"We probably have people better suited for that-"
"She's okay," Fantine placed a gentle hand on her son's face. "That's all that matters."
"It's a shame," The dark-haired boy on the ground began bitterly, "That the only reason she knows first aid is because she's been beaten everyday for the past year."
A silence fell over the group then, as if they understood what environment they just came into. Enjolras noted the poor condition of the expensive furniture and the bruises on all those who lived in the mansion. The quiet was broken by soft footsteps down the stairs.
Enjolras felt his breath catch in his throat. The girl who stood there was a different brand of pretty. She had skin opposite that of her sister, golden and warm, almost the color of caramel. Her raven hair was piled on top her head in a messy bun and just as the boy said, she appeared beaten down. Still her chin was raised.
"She will be ready to move in three days." The girl looked cooly around the group, faltering for only a second when she met Enjolras's fixed eyes. "I expect you all to vacate the premises by then."
The girl grabbed at her sister and the two slim forms vanished, leaving Gueulemer, Montparnasse, and Marius awkwardly with a group of strangers. Grantaire broke the silence, releasing Jehan's hand to motion around herself.
"So, you got anything to drink around here?"