CREDITS GO TO: idreamadreamtoo, who gave me the idea for this story. This is also the fic I'm writing for my account's second birthday. Rated T for mild swearing.

As for the others who suggested ideas, yours were really good and it was tough to choose.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Les Miserables. If I did…..well, this story is rated T, so I can't tell you.


Éponine smiled, rubbing her stomach slightly and reveling in the feeling of the hard little bump under her hand. She probed it with her fingers, gently tracing swirling patterns over it, but she dared not to press too hard. It was a miracle. Her miracle. His miracle. Their miracle. Perfect. She couldn't wait to tell him about it. Their miracle. Their angel. Their baby, innocent and pure, was most certainly NOT a mistake, thank you very much. Well, technically, it was a mistake….that is, the baby wasn't planned, but still a blessing nonetheless. Éponine was grateful to whatever force moved her life that she'd been so blessed.

"Today….is going to be the best day ever," she whispered to herself, poking softly at the bump and grinning at it, her deep brown eyes sparkling with happiness. "Don't you think so, mon ange?" In theory, talking to something that couldn't talk back to her would have looked a little bit on the other side of the crazy tracks to most folks. But Éponine didn't care. She had never, ever gone with the norms of society, therefore, in her own words, "I don't care, I don't give a damn, so you can go screw yourself if you think otherwise."

Now, she was just waiting for Enjolras to get back to their apartment.

She wiped over the table one last time with a Clorox lemon-scented wiper, cringing at the strong, noticeably fake smell of it. She adjusted the new cheap red tablecloth that she'd gotten at the grocery store on sale. Red was Enjolras' favorite color, and the same could be said for Éponine-she liked to think that it would be their baby's favorite color, but-God protect her-it would NOT be the color of her baby's hair if she had anything to say about it. Her child would not be the demon spawn of Satan. But really, she didn't want it to have anything that could ever remind her of her own parents. Her child would have a much better life than she had had herself, of course.

"Baby Bean, your daddy loves you. He's a little grumpy sometimes, but he loves you. I do too," she cooed. "You're going to be so pretty, just like your daddy." It was a tangible thought. She could practically see the image of a golden little tot who had its father's hair, face, eyes….pretty much a clone copy of him.

Éponine put the single red rose that she'd bought-another of Enjolras' favorites-into the slender white vase that had part of the side chipped out. The vase had gotten chipped at a party where almost all of their friends had been drunk and a little rowdy. Ah, memories, sweet memories. Too bad that everything would be different with the baby. No rowdy partying, not for a while at least. Baby Bean would come first.

The door slammed open, and Éponine turned to face a stony-faced Enjolras, who set down his student knapsack on the ground with such force that most of his books were strewn over the entryway. He went right past her without saying a word and sat down at the table, running his long fingers through his sun-kissed hair. She frowned and bent over to pick up one of his books which had landed under a dusty table. Éponine grabbed it and wiped off the worn cover of the Political Science textbook with the edge of her shirt. "Enjolras, you need to be more careful." No reply, only a quiet boyfriend who stared at his feet. "Enj? What's the matter?"

"Éponine...we need to talk."

"Alright." She sat down on the chair opposite Enjolras. "So, what do we need to talk about?"

"It's...um...I think that we should..." Enjolras seemed like he was trying to say something, yet he couldn't as he was trying to place what he had to say delicately. "I...I think that we should break up."

Éponine was stunned. "Enj, this isn't funny."

"Éponine, I'm not joking," Enjolras replied. "I just think that we need to see other people."

"You can't be serious," Éponine sputtered. "After all we've been through...now you want to...break up?"

"Please don't make this harder than it needs to be," Enjolras said gravely. "I'm moving out. I'll leave you some money, you know, to keep you on your feet for a while. I already have my bags packed."

At this point, tears were covering Éponine's face. "No..."

"This is just the way it needs to be," Enjolras grimaces, packed bags in his hands.

She shook her head. "No, I'm gone. Goodbye."

And with that, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving everything behind.

"Baby Bean, what have I done?"


For the remaining months of her pregnancy, Éponine did odd jobs around the city temporarily, just enough to support herself and buy some things for the baby. She lived in a dingy little apartment in the Bronx that cost very little, just enough left over for baby items and food.

Enjolras had completely disappeared off the face of the earth. If any of the Amis knew where he was, Éponine wouldn't know. She'd cut off contact with them after the breakup. How desperately she wanted to be able to tell him about their baby.

At the end of her pregnancy, Éponine went into labor and gave birth to a daughter, whom she named Kendall. It was contemporary, modern, and something that Enjolras would have agreed on. Everything felt perfect for about two hours after Kendall was born.


"Ms. Thénardier, I hate to inform you, but your daughter was born with a serious issue," the doctor told Éponine, who gripped the armrest of the bed tighter.

"What's wrong with my baby?" she demanded.

"I'm afraid that she has a Ventricular Septal Defect."

"Kindly explain."

"Ventricular Septal Defects are basically holes in the inner walls of the heart between the ventricles, the bottom part of the heart. Your baby needs to be operated on immediately."

"Just save Kendall. Save my baby. I don't care what you have to do, just save my baby."