Rated K+ JUST IN CASE. May raise, depending on the turn of events.

I am not Victor Hugo, by the way, so this isn't mind. :(

Prologue

The 15th of March 2014 was a peculiar day. A forty-something gent by the name of Francis Francisson was embarking on the biggest experiment in the century (or so the press claimed). They were going to bring someone back from the dead. Having had influence of his friend, Bishop Myriel, who had read Frankenstein many times over, given his friend the peace of mind by having two French Soldiers standing at the door, with guns to destroy any… malfunctions.

Francis was using the body of a girl. She had died over two hundred years ago in the June Rebellion of France. The girl was skinny and pale. Her lips were pursed, and she looked as though she had a constant smile. She was beautiful in death. She'd be even more beautiful in life. Pulling on some white gloves, Francis began the operation. Within an hour he was done. The button in his hand felt like it was burning through his skin. He closed his eyes and pressed the pulsing red button. For a few minutes there was silence. Francis stared at the girl and felt his heart drop in disappointment.

And then the girl's eyelashes flickered. Francis stepped forward and held her wrist, his thumb against the artery. Her eyes flashed open and she gasped. He could hear the soldiers jump. The girl coughed. "Where am I?" she asked. "Marius? Marius! Did you kill Marius?"

Francis smiled solemnly. "Are you asking for a fellow revolutionary? They're all dead. None of them survived."

The girl started breathing faster. And then she started crying. Francis had no idea what to do when women started crying. He looked around him uncertainly and muttered. "Shhh. Shhh! You're alive."

"But where am I?"

"You're alive, Mademoiselle. It's 200 years after you died."

The girl appeared to process the information. "I'm over 200 years old? And Monsieur, you didn't answer my question. Where am I?"

"You're in the France Science University. You were the only body that didn't disappear, so we decided to choose… you… to bring back to life."

"So I'm your guinea pig. I've had enough experience with that."

"Mademoiselle, may I ask your name?"

"Eponine Jondrette. Well, my real last name's Thenardier but don't go around telling the washerwomen, okay."

Francis chuckled. "I am Francis Francisson."

"Original," Eponine muttered under her breath. Francis felt his face growing hot.

"Please listen to me, Eponine. I brought you back to life. It is only fair if you co-operate."

"Fine," Eponine groaned.

Eponine responded to most questions he fired at her, but every now and again, she'd pause, as if thinking. Francis didn't pursue these questions now. They might be uncomfortable for the girl, he thought. He was right, actually. Eponine did lie. But most lies hold a spark of truth. And some things were painful to answer in earnest. When Francis asked the poor girl how she died, she'd thought and said, "I was brash and I ran onto the Barricade silently, using my years of training, and started filing through bullets. They saw me. I slipped up. I died."

And Francis gave her a small break after that question. Eponine thought on her answer and felt tears rising through her. No. That was how Gavroche had died. Her brother. And in that break she thought through everything that had happened. And then she faced it. Everyone was dead. Marius was dead, Cosette was dead, Azelma was dead. Everyone. Every barricade had been knocked over, like a father pretending to be a monster and knocking down the castle to search for his giggling daughter. The soldier toys had fallen from the turrets. Eponine sighed because she knew that they had all been playing make-believe.

Chapter 1

I'm Waking Up

Eponine soon got used to the ways of life in the twenty-first century. Extraordinarily fast, actually. Francis had taken her on as a daughter, as well as his biological daughter, Esperanza Francisdotter, although she made everyone call her Honore. Francis' mother had died when Honore was four, so the girl didn't have much recalling of her mother.

Honore was about half a year older than Eponine. She was incredibly pretty. She had russet-coloured hair, a petite nose, and large blue eyes. She was adorned in beautiful dresses, ranging from Eponine's time period to now. Honore's innocent presence was a constant reminder of a girl Eponine had once known, called Cosette. Cosette Fauchelevent. Eponine's parents had owned an inn until Eponine was eight. When Eponine was two, a beautiful woman with golden hair and perfect teeth had put a little girl called Cosette in their care. She became their maid, and Eponine and Azelma's scapegoat. But one day a man in yellow came to the inn and told them that Cosette's mother had died. He took Cosette away after giving Eponine's parents, the ruthless Thenardiers, 1500 francs. Eponine hadn't thought she'd see that face ever again.

Eponine had moved to the streets of Paris, and she was treated brutally and ruthlessly, by her father and the infamous street-gang Patron-Minnette. Eponine had met a boy called Marius Pontmercy. She fell in love with him, although Eponine thought it might've been because he was the only one caring to show her kindness. She thought he loved her back. But she was proven wrong when he fell in love with the ex-drudgery maid. Somehow, the small girl had popped back into Eponine's life. This time they had switched places though. She was the one with the bruises and scars, and Cosette was the one with the silver spoon.

Upon this uncomfortable memory, Eponine spent as much time as possible avoiding her 'sister'. Even so, Eponine still harnessed knowledge of her surroundings. She became quite good at reading, and soon, she could be considered semi-literate.

But in the darkness of night, Eponine dreamed of a world of Marius and Cosette, the Barricade, and the fears of her life. Eponine couldn't find any ways to distract herself. And then relief came. It came in the form of a telegram to her 'father' from Bishop Myriel. Apparently, a new island had been discovered on the edge of Europe, using the new technology. Bishop Myriel had fought for the poor, and so he had been offered a chance to officially discover the new piece of land as a reward for his efforts. They'd hired a Captain, Captain Le Blanc.

The night before they left for discovery, Eponine had made Francis promise to take her with him. He'd expected Honore to stay home and away from danger. But that night, propped up in bed, Eponine overheard Honore and Francis.

"Father, I'd like you to take me with you."

"Honore, you cannot go if you don't get your hands dirty."

"And she does?"

"She's endured a lot of heartbreak."

"Father, I don't care about work, just take me with you. Please?"

Eponine groaned in disapproval as she heard Francis give in. When dawn came, Eponine was already up. She brushed her hair and teeth, had a shower, and got dressed. She would've forgotten breakfast if she hadn't been reminded.

Eponine had settled for the clothes she'd worn when she came to live with Francis and his daughter. They were a top and trousers, brown and tattered, but dear to her heart. They were the only thing left of her. Eponine soon found her place on board the great La Dame Espoir. And that was the place of a scullery maid. Again. Francis had fought for her, displaying how he couldn't bare the thought of his daughter being forced to scrub. After a while, they raised her a little higher to that of a cook. There was one terrible thing about that and that was that she was horrible at cooking. Her beef jerky came out too stringy. Her smoked salmon was charred to the point of inedible. Eponine couldn't wait until their arrival at the island.

It was on the 16th of June, one day after her one month anniversary, that they soon saw land. Mist crowded their view, and dark shapes leered at Eponine as she stared out the window, bored out of her mind. She watched the water as the boat turned. She sat there and a small, serene smile trailed up her face. And then there was the sound of cracking, splintering wood. Eponine covered her ears and screamed. She got to her feet and ran to the door, turned the handle, and yanked open the door. She ran up the steps, and to the railing. Gripping the cold metal, and the wind freezing her cheeks, she looked downwards.

Eponine ran for her life, back up the steps. There she saw Francis, his eyes flashing in the light. She ran towards him before digging in her heels. His fingers gripped her wrist to keep her from falling (and no doubt slipping through the railing). Honore was already in the boat, hugging her form. Eponine got into the boat and as she did, her foot slipped. Her head whipped up. Eponine's voice was a whisper. "Where's the Bishop?" she asked.

"The Bishop is staying with Le Blanc," Francis muttered. It was so obvious how it hurt him. But he would not argue with his dear friend. The bishop was sixty-four, but he had the heart of a thirty-year-old. He had been Francis' friend for ten years. Francis got into the boat and sat there, staring absently. There was the sound of footsteps on-deck. They looked up at Bishop Myriel, his kind eyes displaying sorrow. "I'm so sorry, old friend," he grinned, "Someone's got to cut the ropes."

"You can cut them from down here, though," Eponine said.

The Bishop shook his head. "God will be happy with me, 'Ponine."

From his pocket, he drew a pocket-knife. Smiling, he dragged the knife across the ropes, back and forth, back and forth. They released, and Eponine felt herself falling, and then the boat slammed into the water. Water sprayed her cheeks and neck. Grabbing the oars, Francis started rowing towards the land. "Good luck, my dear friends!" called the Bishop. Francis used his total strength, which was remarkably strong, in his case. After about two hours worth of exertion, they reached the shore. Eponine got to her feet. The sand was mushy beneath her heels. Her dark hair blew across her face. The forest looked cleared. She turned and faced Francis. "Come on," she whispered, her brown eyes flicked between Honore and Honore's father. Eponine turned, and there was a feeling of home. She started running. She passed the trees. It was a replica of France. Her France. And then, she knew where to go. Soon she could hear the sound of Honore and Francis behind her. Soon there was a wide expanse of green. There was a strange sound. Francis dragged Honore behind a bush. And then there was a chestnut horse, with a man seated atop the carriage. Wait- a man! Eponine coughed.

"Oh my goodness," she muttered. The man turned his head and smiled.

"Hello, young lady, have you walked far?"

"No, um, the beach is that way. I'm new."

The man's eyes widened. "New. Well that's new. Are you alone?"

Francis pulled Honore out from his cover.

"My name's Eponine. Eponine Jondrette." She swore she saw him shiver. "If it's okay, do you know where there is a way to go to Paris?"

Not Paris, Eponine.

"Ah, yes, take a ride on my carriage. You're one under the limit. No charge, since you're new and all." He winked and the three heaved themselves into the carriage. "Be warned, it'll be bumpy."

Note: Eponine is supposed to look like whatever you want, despite her being Samantha Barks in my mind.

Note 2: I'm sooo sorry that you haven't had much work from me, so to make it up to you would you like me to get right to work on the second chapter? I'm loving this story already even though I'm not giving up on At The End Of The Day. I hope it stays like that, because I don't want to disappoint people. I love you all.