A/N: The inspiration came to me in a dream…. Just kidding. I've just always liked this Eponine and Enjolras together. I was sitting at home on my butt doing absolutely nothing when I decided to sit down and write. This is what happened because of it.

Before the story begins, I would really like to clarify a couple of different things. The first being that I do not, I repeat, I do NOT own Les Miserables. Nor will I ever. The second being that the characters are not going to be exactly like they are in the book or movie. The purpose of this fan fiction is that it explores the depth of the characters in ways that have not been presented. They will have some similarities in personality as the characters in the book or movie (or play if you've seen the play..) but they will be mixed with some unique characteristics/ behaviors that I've come up with.

I'll plan on updating once a week at the bare minimum. Hopefully, I'll manage to pop out a couple of chapters a week, but life has a habit of getting in the way. Anyway, Enjoy, and please read and review. It really provides motivation, and I'm not going waste my time, and your time, writing a story if no one seems to like it. Thanks, and Enjoy the first chapter!

Disclaimer: (To be safe) I DO NOT OWN LES MISERABLES!

Chapter 1: In the Aftermath

The sound of a deep male voice broke the silence that had descended on the lonely barricade. The broken furniture, that lay scattered across the street, looked sad under the grey clouds that sagged low to the rooftops looming overhead. The sickly-sweet, metallic stench of blood hung in the air, masking the usual aromas that filled the streets of Paris. The sticky, red substance coated the cobblestone street, but was rinsing away under the blanket of rain that fell gingerly from the sky, leaving behind massive red stains that would forever mark the street as residue of the lives that were lost.

Men of the king searched the remnants of the makeshift barricade that had provided minimal shelter from the shower of bullets we had faced. My heart thudded in my chest, fear rising up inside of me. I knew what they'd do if they found me. I was guilty of treason; the known penalty of treason was death. It didn't matter that I had done none of the actual shooting on the King's men; I was guilty by association, and the king spared no traitors.

My thoughts drifted from my own life, to the lives of the other students who'd been on the barricade fighting for their lives, their freedom. It seemed like ages ago that they'd been singing of tomorrow, even though only hours had passed. I could see the image in my head, the young men sitting atop the now tattered barricade. Gavroche leading the group onward, despite the bleak looking outcome, Grantaire with his usual drink in hand, Marius preparing the ammunition with our fearless leader, the marble-cut Apollo who'd led us into the revolution. The simple memory brought a weak, saddened smile to my face.

I had no way of knowing which of my fellow students had survived the torturous night. My mind settled on the sole that that had plagued my existence since the revolution had begun. Marius Pontmercy, the man I'd admired, even loved, for longer than I could even remember. Where was he? I hadn't seen him since the firing had begun. The very thought of losing Marius to the revolution scared me even more than the men of the king finding and killing me. I had to find him, to make sure he was alive and well, but thought better of moving out of my current location. I would be no good to Marius if I was dead.

I shifted my position slightly to peer around the broken chair in front of me, hiding me, and I instantly regretted the brief movement. My shoulder throbbed where a stray bullet had seared through flesh, colliding directly with bone. I sucked a tiny gasp between my teeth and cracked lips and clutched at my bloody shoulder desperately, looking for the men.

I couldn't see them, but the sight in front of me was far more terrifying. I saw the feet of one of the students, surrounded by a pool of blood. He was laying on the pavement, not moving at all, and a lump came to my throat as I recognized the shoes on the tiny feet. My heart seemed to stop beating in my chest as the sudden realization seeped through my skin. I fought internally not to cry, not to let the tears leak out of my already bloodshot eyes. Eventually, the internal war seemed pointless, and I let the tears fall. My brother, my not-so-innocent baby brother, was dead. I let out a strangled sob, despite my desperation to remain as quiet as possible. I couldn't get his name, his face, out of my head. Gavroche, the little boy who had so willingly joined the revolution was braver than I could ever even hope to be.

I shrunk back into my hiding place as I heard the heavy footsteps of the men approach. Every step they took brought them closer to finding me, and sent a brand new needle of fear inside my mind. As they passed my location tucked inside the barricade, I let out a tiny sigh of relief and realized I was ready to escape from this area.

I slid out from my hiding place as quietly as possible, glancing around for the people who were seeking to find any surviving I tiptoed over the remains of a broken, tattered chair that lay before me, ignoring the throbbing pain of my shoulder and the tears that still blurred my vision. I wanted to get out of here, I needed to get away from the death that now polluted the atmosphere around the barricade. I moved silently, expertly, hopeful that I wouldn't be caught.

As I neared the door to the café, ready to take a right down the next street, I heard a noise. The very noise was what sounded like the distraught groan of one of the students. My heart thudded in my chest; It could be a trap. Or one of the other students had managed to get lucky and survive. I moved closer to the groan had come from, spotting the red jacket that I definitely did not expect to see.

"Enjolras?" I asked quietly, approaching the figure that was slumped against the barricade in front of the café. How they had not found him was a mystery to me. I scanned my eyes over him quickly, assessing to see if he was hurt. I noticed the red, white, and blue patch still pinned to his tattered jacket. It was in perfect condition, as though he'd not just been through such a horrific endeavor. Blood stained his cheek, and I searched for the source. I noticed that his hand was also stained red, and finally discovered the blood seeping from his leg onto the cobblestones. "Enjolras?" I asked again, a bit louder this time.

He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and seemingly angry. "Eponine," He breathed, and I noted how he relaxed when recognized my face. "What are you doing here?"

"Enjolras, I was on the barricade with you," I whispered crouching down beside him. I reached out and touched his hand, surprised he didn't jerk away. "The king's men are looking for you. We've got to get out of here; they'll kill us if they find us." I realized how pathetic my voice sounded.

"Don't you get it?" He asked loudly. Fear struck through me. "I killed them, Eponine. They're dead because of me!"

"Enjolras, please." I begged. "Be quiet. Let's get out of here, please."

He laughed mockingly. "Let them come. What do I care? I deserve to be dead, Eponine. I killed them; I killed my own friends. They're dead and it's all. My. Fault!" He yelled. I knew there was no chance the men hadn't heard us. I could already hear their footsteps and shouts nearing closer to our location.

"Enjolras, listen to me," I said speaking quietly, looking around for the men. I tugged on his arm. "You've got to get up now or you're going to die. Do you understand me? This is not your fault. You didn't kill them, Enjolras. Those men did. The very same men who are going to kill you if you don't move now." My voice was frantic and I tried to pull him up, ignoring the pain that shot through my shoulder. "Please." I said softly. "Please get up."

I heard the footsteps approaching and I spun around, ready to face the men. They rounded the corner, three large men with mean, hard looking faces, and my resolve vanished instantly. I noted how they had their weapons at the ready, and would not hesitate to use them.

"You there!" One of the men shouted. They stepped closer to us. "What are you doing here, girl?" Tears welled up in my eyes again and my heart pounded painfully in synch with my throbbing gunshot wound. When I didn't answer, he motioned to the men beside him. "Arms at the ready.. Aim…."

So? What did you guys think? I hate cliffhangers! Reading them that is. They are so much fun to write. Anyway! What did you guys think? It's a bit short … but it will get longer as I go. I promise. Leave reviews please? I've got chapter two all written but it may be a while before I get it typed up and posted. Oh, and merry Christmas! From me you'll get updates to this story and my other one: Boy Meets Girl! Thanks. Bye bye for now!