A/N: Welcome to 'Voyage!' Hopefully you've read the predecessor to this story – 'Witness.' If not, you should probably go back and do that, otherwise, this will make no sense. As for those who have been with me since the beginning of our trilogy, sit back and enjoy. :D (Also, I decided to add the story today since it was finished. This week I will update Monday and Friday; next week I should be able to start the Monday/Wednesday/Friday routine.)

Don't forget to read/review/PM me.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to their proper owners.

Chapter One: Mrs. Audrey Polichie

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December 15th; West Bath, Maine.

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He found it quite off that he could no longer remember her face. He'd never even considered in their few short months of dating that taking a picture – any picture – of her would prove to be the most important photo he'd ever taken. But he had none and so Veronica's memory was barely alive, hanging by a mere thread in Enjolras' mind. The first week after she'd left – been taken – he'd lived like a tornado. He did everything he could to try and find her. He'd gone so far as to use his job as a lawyer to try and coerce the police into giving him information.

That move only left him unemployed and drunk.

Enjolras had never liked drink; it didn't settle well in his stomach and he could barely keep it down sometimes. But Veronica's sudden departure had thrown him into a frenzy looking for solace. Whiskey – hard whiskey – had been his only constant.

He was ashamed of the way he acted. His friend offered him comfort, of course; even after his fight with Courfeyrac, they remained true. For a time. Enjolras' obsession with finding her grew too strong. Eventually, they slipped away at last, stopping by to make sure he was still alive on occasions. Grantaire, even, had told him that he needed to stop drinking. It was pathetic.

Months passed and still he found nothing. It was as if she'd never existed. He realized one day, a particularly bright and sunny day, that he loved her. Enjolras loved Veronica wholeheartedly; it made him want to puke. He'd never told her; but at the time he hadn't know just how much she meant to him, how much he wanted her in his life. The day she left haunted his mind constantly. The black SUVs, the men in sunglasses – it was like something out of an awful spy movie. And he'd just stood there like an ass and done nothing to stop it. Oh god, he loved her.

Why hadn't he done anything?!

Enjolras leaned back on the couch, lifting his bottle of beer to his lips. He sighed deeply, his eyes lingering on the TV flashing some awful reality show. Finishing the bottle in hand, he tossed it onto the floor, listening to it clatter and clang along with the rest of the bottles scattered about the apartment.

The phone rang.

Jumping to his feet, he rushed to the telephone, slipping on the tile floor in his socks. He missed the call by a few seconds, falling onto his knees, grabbing the phone from the receiver. Leaning against the counter, he pressed the phone against his forehead, waiting for the message to begin.

"Ah, Enj, it's R – again. Ry and I are headed up to my parent's house for Christmas pretty early this year, and since I figured you did have any plans, we – I wanted to know if you'd be open to coming? It's in Michigan and – yeah, well, we're leaving in a couple of days. Just let me know."

The message beeped.

Maybe he would take them up on their offer.

Getting out of Maine would be good for him, wouldn't it?

He pulled the phone away from his forehead and quickly called Grantaire back. "I'll go," he said, quietly, hanging up before his friend could answer.

Veronica's memory couldn't follow him to Michigan.

Right?

.::.

December 15th; San Antonio, Texas.

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"I fucking swear, Éponine! You can't take this lightly any more. Don't you understand that?"

Éponine turned away from Jason, throwing the dirty pot into the sink with a loud clatter. She nodded and turned on the water, running her hands underneath it. "Yes, I understand. I just don't see the harm – "

Jason, a man slightly taller than Enjolras, with dark, short black hair, and a well-toned figured, slammed his hands down onto the granite counter. "Whether you like it or not, we are married. I'm here to both protect you and to keep you from making another dumbass decision that could get you kicked out of the country – "

"I didn't ask to get married, okay?! It wasn't like it was my idea to leave Maine!" She turned off the water, turning around, her hands covered in suds.

"Neither was it mine!" Jason lowered his voice, focusing on the island counter-top. "If we want to live out the rest of our days together in relative peace, then you need to listen to me. And try and act like you love me, okay? Can you do that?"

Rubbing her hands into a dish towel laying nearby on the counter, Éponine stared at the diamond ring on her finger. She nodded solemnly. If she made one wrong step, she'd be gone, out of America. For Gavroche's sake, she'd have to put up with Jason – for the time being, at least.

After leaving West Bath, Bailey had given Gav and Éponine new identities: a Mrs. Audrey Polichie and her nephew, Isaac. For her own safety, Éponine was married off to Jason Renolds, a field agent – also known to those of the suburbs of San Antonio as Mr. William Polichie, a business tycoon. According to Bailey, after five years, if both Éponine and Jason were in agreement, they were allowed to get a divorce. But until then, she was stuck with him. The three were put up into an old colonial style house in the expensive end of the suburbs. To Éponine, its only good qualities was its pristine white siding and the wrap-around porch; plus, it was incredibly large – leaving a lot of space for her to avoid Jason's company.

"Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine." Stalking out of the kitchen, Éponine was thankful the doorbell had rung. Anything to get her away from Jason's judgmental glare and attitude. Before she opened the door, she plastered on a false smile, shaking herself free of her irritation.

She threw open the door, unsurprised to see Missy Lapoe on the other side. "Missy!" she said, her voice throwing itself up two octaves.

Missy Lapoe, resident head-honcho of the PTO, and HOA, and basically anything else that needed a leader, offered Éponine a covered coffee cake, her white teeth shinning in the dark of the night. "Just a little something-something since I heard that Willie wasn't sick anymore."

Éponine took the confectionery from Missy's hands, turning around to place it in Jason's waiting arms. Missy stood a little straighter, fixing her teased blond hair. Even though she'd been happily married for five years and was a mother of three, every time Jason showed up Missy turned on the charm.

"Hey, Willie." Her thick, Southern draw made Éponine's blood boil.

Jason rested his free hand on Éponine's shoulder. As always, he played the doting husband to Éponine and the loving uncle to Gavroche; it was just Éponine who had difficulty playing the doting wife. "Hello, Missy."

She laughed lightly, placing her left hand at the bottom of her hair, twirling it between her fingers. "Glad you're feeling better."

He nodded, smiling through tight lips. "Thank you. For this, too." He raised the coffee cake container into the air, nodding once more with appreciation.

Missy clucked her tongue and waved her hand, shaking her head. "It's nothing." After a long pause, her eyes settled on Éponine's and she clasped her hands together. "Well, y'all have a good night." She took a step back before raising a finger. "Uh – Audrey, you're coming to the church benefit, right? Preparations for Christmas?"

Éponine opened her mouth to refuse, but she felt Jason squeeze her shoulder. "Yes, of course. Wouldn't miss it for anything." Her chest tightened as she nodded.

Missy's smile – which shined so brightly – shamed the moon. "Wonderful! I'll see you on Thursday then, okay? Oh, this is just going to be great. I know that you're new to the area and everything, but it's never too late to start getting involved, right?" She laughed. "Sorry to keep you. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, Missy." Éponine closed the door before Mrs. Lapoe was off the front porch. "The nerve of that woman," she whispered, brushing away from Jason, toward the large staircase, across from the door.

Jason chuckled. "You would think we were actually in love or something. Every time she shows up, you go as red as a beet."

Éponine frowned. "I don't love you."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "I struggle to understand, though, if you even know what love means." He walked away slowly, obviously biding his time before Éponine lashed out again. Instead of biting his head off, like she wished she could, Éponine gripped the banister of the staircase tightly, her knuckles turning white.

"You don't know jack-shit, Jason," she said, before stomping up the stairs, down the hall, and into her room. She slammed the door shut; Gav was away at basketball practice, so she didn't have to worry about Jason coming upstairs to settle the matter. He had to leave soon to pick him up at the YMCA.

When she first moved into the house on Lanebrook Avenue, she was worried Jason would want to share a room with her – just to drive home their lie a little further. Luckily, he was as opposed to the idea as she was. He took the guest bedroom, and she the master suite, while Gavroche was set up in one of the rooms opposite Jason's. Whenever they hosted a dinner party (which had only happened once) or Missy invited her family over for dinner, Jason shut his room up and if someone asked for a tour of the house, Éponine's room looked exactly like any married couple's room.

Éponine had little personal items. Unlike in Maine, where she had one sole picture of herself, Gavroche, and Ezelma, her room in Texas was clear of any inkling of her past life. All of the picture's her students had drawn her from West Bath Elementary had been burned. Bailey had quite literally burned them in his office trashcan. The only things she'd been allowed to keep were her college diploma – her name was changed on the paper – and the letter Enjolras had given to her on her first day of teaching. She'd framed them both, hanging them on the wall in unabashed glory. Whenever someone asked her who Jack was, she lied and said it was a college boyfriend who died of cancer.

Falling onto the king size bed, Éponine groaned loudly.

Her stomach hurt. Her head hurt. Her heart hurt.

If anything good had come out of her move to Texas, it was that she had little time to think of Enjolras. Throughout September, October, and November, both Jason and Bailey had been riding her butt: keeping incredibly close tabs on where she went, who she talked to, who her friends were. She was a prisoner in the second largest state in the United States. She had no time to think of the life she'd left, of the people she'd abandoned.

Of course, at the end of the day, when she went to bed and clocked out of her life as Audrey Polichie, thoughts of Enjolras, and Grantaire, and Ryan plagued her with guilt and fear. Bailey had mentioned that the WPP would take care of Adrienne; Éponine just assumed she was paid off when she no longer received texts or emails. But as for the other three, Enjolras had to know that she'd been lying. He must of figured it out.

The day after she left, Éponine had received a phone call from Ryan, but she couldn't answer. At the time, she was in Washington, D.C., waiting to be placed again. She'd cried for the first time since she realized there was no going back. In the middle of an office building, she'd cried like a baby. Ryan was her first friend in West Bath, her dearest friend. She would never see him again.

Grantaire gave up on her completely. Éponine wasn't surprised.

Gavroche, too, continued to give her the cold shoulder.

She had no friends, no job, no purpose. She was a Southern housewife to a man (although attractive) she hardly knew. All she did was laze about the house, flipping through the TV, or go out shopping. God knew she had money to blow now.

All in all, Éponine was not miserable. She was heart-broken, but she'd been heart-broken before; she just hoped it would go away soon. Really, in all honesty, she was bored.

Bored of living.

There was a quiet knock at the door.

Sitting up on the end of the bed, she brushed her hair out of her face. "What?"

Jason opened the door, nearly filling the whole door frame. He held a CD case in his hand. "I think you should take a look at this."

Éponine crossed her arms. "What is it?"

He placed it on the desk adjacent to the door. "Just look at it. It may ease your mind at little."

"What if I don't want to?"

Jason sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Then that is your problem." He cracked his neck. "I'm going to go get Gav. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Éponine didn't answer.

Jason lingered for a moment before he backed away down the hall and then ran down the stairs, his heavy-footed feet making the house shake slightly. Éponine stared at the CD case and listened for the garage door to open. When it did, and she was sure Jason was gone, she slowly stood up and picked the CD case up, weighing it in her hand. There was no writing on the CD itself.

Shaking her head, she threw it back onto the desk, turning around and gathering her shower things. Whatever it was, she didn't care.