A/N: While you wait for the next chapter of Yellow Light, here's something I had been writing. I posted it on tumblr already, but thought I'd share it with people who aren't on that site. I hope you enjoy it :D Btw, this wasn't proofread and I wrote it whenever ideas came to mind, so if things don't add up, I'm terribly sorry.

Also, trigger warning: suicide, abuse, self-harm.

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables.

She felt strong arms come around her from behind. He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered. "I love you, no matter what. Never forget that."

She shivered in his arms, and he tried his best to calm her down. It wasn't that she wanted children, she always thought that she could never bring a child into such a godforsaken world.

She wasn't sure why it got her so upset. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't, that bothered her so much. No one had ever stopped her from doing something, but now there really was nothing she could do.

She had been crying. A lot. And she couldn't stop herself, every day was a reminder to herself that she couldn't do something. She couldn't bear children.

She looked down at the arms that were around her, she stared at the hands that fell on her stomach. She brought her hands up to meet his, an embrace he willingly accepted, but she quickly pulled his arms away and faced him.

She gulped. Half of her brain telling her to stop, the other pushing her to say the words that were already at the tip of her tongue.

"I understand if you want to leave." she finally said. His brows creased, obviously confused at what she was implying. "I know that you want children. I know how you are around children. You light up around them."

"Epon-"

"No. Listen. I'm serious. I can't give you what you want, so there's no point of staying."

"Eponine! What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you should leave because I can't give you what you deserve."

His features grew dark and he searched for the answer he wanted in her eyes, but he couldn't decipher her. It worried him. "Do you … do you not love me anymore? Eponine, don't say there's no point, because there is. I love you. I love you."

"Of course I love you!"

"Then we shouldn't be having this conversation!"

"But-"

"No." He then pulled her in and held tightly onto her. She let her tears wet him shirt again, he didn't let go. "I love you. We can't have children. But I wouldn't want to have children with anyone but you. So please don't say that ever again. I'm not leaving. I'm never leaving."

He sat beside her, never leaving her side. The only sound that ringed in the air was the quiet beeping of the machines. He held onto her hand whenever he could, that way he could feel the tiny strand of life that still rushed through her. The only thing that gave him hope.

He swore that everyone had given up on her. Of course, they didn't, they just had other things to attend to. But he didn't believe them. Whenever they came, he would scowl at them, saying that she wouldn't want people that didn't care about her to visit.

They cared for her, they all did. Her now best friend, Cosette, still cried at night when her thoughts lingered to the dark place that is her unconscious friend. Grantaire drunk until he didn't remember his own name, not that is was much different to his previous habits, but this time, he drunk to forget all the things that had happened to her. Joly would use all his free time to read on all the ways that could help her, he'd read and re-read. Even though he knew that they were all so close to losing her, he didn't lose hope. Jehan would leave poems and flowers every time he visited. There was now a large pile on her bedside table. Combeferre would come to check on both her and the man that never left her side. When their marble leader wasn't looking, Combeferre would whisper in her ear how much he had missed her, and how he prayed that she would get better, then kiss her on the forehead before leaving. Courfeyrac would talk to her on his visits, as if she could talk back to him. He'd ask her opinion the newest girl that he had fallen for and laugh.

When Marius visited, Enjolras would always shout at him. Telling him to leave and never come back. That she didn't want him around, that she didn't need him around. Sometimes Marius would comply, other times he would fight back and say that he had rights to visit.

But when it was just the two of them, it was silent. Books were left unread, music was left unheard, the tv was left unwatched. He just stared at her, watching her chest rise and falter, the sign that she was still with him. He had memorised every curve and crease of her face and her body. Every scar and bruise. The very things that got her into here.

Attempted suicide.

She had attempted to take her life. Why? He didn't know. Maybe she felt that she wasn't wanted. Wasn't needed. Wasn't loved.

Had he not proven to her, everyday they spent together. Every night they revelled in each others presence. He was not ashamed to have cried when he thought about it. He was ashamed that he let this happen.

Her father still beat her. He thought that maybe that could be a supporting factor, but he knew deep inside that the beating had been going on for years, if that was a reason, she wouldn't done this a long time ago.

Enjolras had told her clearly to stay away from that place, that place she had once called home. But she couldn't stay away. She said she owed her father and her mother. They would always get into a fight when the topic arose.

He found her bleeding in the bath when he arrived home that night. Their home.

Pills scattered around her. Wrist slit. Blood everywhere. He hadn't seen so much blood in his life. He almost fainted when he saw her.

He watched her chest rise and fall slowly, then he whispered into her hand, which he never let go of, "I love you, Eponine. Had I not made it obvious? Did you not know?"

He cried and cried. He wasn't embarrassed even though all his friends were around him. He wasn't ashamed. He didn't care anymore. He didn't let go of her hand as he sobbed into the uncomfortable hospital mattress.

"No. No. No." He kept repeating. No one said anything, they let him take out all his emotions. They all knew that once they exited the hospital, he would fall back into his old no-emotions state. No one had seen him in such a state before, their marble leader was broken.

"No." He looked up to see her face. So white and pale. Her skin was too cold. He held onto her, his hands cupped around hers, hoping that somehow his warmth could warm her. "I love you, I love you, I love you." he kissed her hand and kept weeping.

"Don't leave me. Please. Please Eponine. Don't do this to me. Don't. Eponine." There was such desperation in his voice that broke everyone's heart. He begged and begged, hoping that somehow she would awaken. That this was all just a sad, sadistic dream. That she was still alive and laughing.

The hardest part was taking her away. Enjolras refused to let go of her. When the doctor told him that he had to say his last goodbyes, he held onto her tighter. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had to pry his hands away from her cold body and hold him back. He tried his best to fight back, and get her back into his arms, but soon Grantaire and Marius were holding him back as well. He sobbed, right there, as his friends held onto him.

Once it was time for Enjolras to pack up and head back home, the group of boys had decided that there would always be one person staying with Enjolras all the time. At least until he had gotten better, which they agreed might take a while.

Combeferre was the first to stay with their leader. Enjolras had denied the need of a babysitter, but they all knew what might happen if he was left alone. He might just be crazy enough to follow Eponine.

His feelings for Eponine were strong. They all knew it, they all could see it and feel it. His feelings were just as strong, or maybe even stronger than his love for his country, his friend's weren't exactly sure. But they knew that if Enjolras was so willing to die for his country, he would be more than willing to go with Eponine. They didn't want to risk anything.

When they arrived at the apartment, Enjolras didn't even want to enter. He stood, frozen, in front of the door. But with the help of Combeferre, he stepped in, and as he took in his surroundings he fell apart. This was their apartment, now only his. Didn't he just kiss her goodbye and told her that he would see her that night? Did she not just serve him breakfast with a forced smile that morning? In his mind, he played and re-played the moments they shared together in this place they called home. Now only he could call it home.

He entered his bedroom. His. Not theirs. He closed the door behind him, and soon he heard Combeferre knock on the door.

He was saying something about food and rest. But Enjolras blocked him out. He didn't want to break down in front of his friends anymore, they saw enough of that already. A part of him was ashamed that his fellow classmates had seen that side of him, so venerable and weak.

But as soon as his eyes lingered on his bed, all thoughts of shame vanished. All he could think of was how they made love the night before she left. How he kissed her and told her that he loved her. How she only replied with a simple nod. How when she thought he had fallen asleep, she cried softly. How he could've talked to her about it. How maybe, he could've stopped her from leaving him.

When Combeferre didn't hear a reply, he repeatedly knocked on the bedroom room. He pressed an ear to the door, and heard his best friend crying softly, knowing that he's trying his best to suppress his tears. Combeferre let him sob, and said goodnight through the door, not before telling his friend to rest.

After two days, Combeferre's shift with Enjolras was coming to an end, Courfeyrac having already arrived at the apartment. Before he left, Combeferre took out a letter from his pocket and placed it in front of the leader.

Enjolras didn't talk much, only when he really needed to, and this wasn't an exception. Instead he gave a confused look.

Combeferre explained how he found these in the bathroom the first day they arrived at the apartment. Eponine had planned everything, she left a note for everyone. He had read his, telling Enjolras that it brought him to tears and that his heart could not handle it for the first few moments.

Enjolras ripped the letter out of his friend's hands, suddenly raising his voice at his best friend, asking why he hadn't given it to him sooner. Combeferre explained that if his letter was that heartbreaking, he could only guess what Enjolras' letter would do to him. He kept it for a while, wanting to give Enjolras some time.

Before he left, Enjolras asked what was written in his letter. Combeferre smiled and all he said was that Eponine was a good person, and that he wanted Enjolras to remember that. He left.

Now it was Courfeyrac's turn to make sure Enjolras didn't do anything strange. He told him that he had to read the letter in front of him. Enjolras complained, saying that it was a private matter, but still Courfeyrac didn't want to take any chances.

Enjolras opened the letter so carefully, not wanting to rip it.

Enjolras

If you're reading this, it means that my plan has succeeded! Or it didn't, and you found this and you might yell at me after reading it. But regardless, I hope you're not moping, you should be rejoicing! Something actually (or so I hope) went the way I wanted it to go.

Enjolras noted how she sounded much more happier and positive than she had actually been for the past few months

I suppose there's not much left to say. I only hope you do not blame yourself, because I do not blame you, I would never blame you. You took care of me, you held me when I cried and listened when I was being a bitch. You never denied a request.

You claimed to have loved me, sometimes I would believe you, sometimes I would convince myself that your words were true. But why would someone like you love a person like me? I loved you, with all my heart and more. It hurt to love you so much. You were always too good, too kind and too caring. I didn't deserve your love, I didn't even deserve to love you.

I suppose you're wondering why I did it.

It just felt right. I felt that the world no longer needed me.

There was a slight change in her handwriting.

You just called. You said you'll be home soon. So I should get started.

You sound tired, I hope you're not over working yourself. You should get some rest.

You said that you love me, and I said it back. That's the last time I will hear you utter those words. Words I don't deserve. The last time I'll hear your voice.

This is goodbye. I left dinner in the fridge. Some dessert too. I went all out. I used my savings. The rest of the money I had is in the top drawer of our beside table.

I love you. You don't have to remember that, I just felt the need to say it, but I love you.

The last line was written messily, like she was losing control of her pen. There was a speck of blood on the edge of the paper.

I'm sorry.

He tried to remember the good times they had together. They said it might help. They said that it might remind him that she had a good life, and that he helped her, and that she didn't want him to follow her. She wanted him to live on.

But the good times only reminded him that they weren't good enough. At least for her. They weren't good enough to make her change her mind, or seek help. They weren't good enough for her to at least try and overcome whatever she was going through.

Then one day he remembered that time when he told her that he wanted kids. He confessed his love for children, how he wanted a dozen of smaller versions of him and her running around their house, screaming and crying and messing about. Driving them crazy. He wanted it all.

She came to terms with it, believing that the world had a lack of little Enjolras' running around, leading rebellions and preaching for justice. She just wasn't up for the idea of little versions of her. If they would sulk too like she did. They might end bipolar and depressed like her. She didn't want that. But still they tried.

That was, until they found out she couldn't bear children. Something that happened to her at a younger age had scarred her.

That night she sobbed like she never had before. He held her close and whispered in her hair. He whispered loving words, telling her that they would be just fine. She wailed and apologised repeatedly. Apologising and apologising until she could no longer form proper words.

She was ashamed at herself. The one thing she thought she could finally give him. And she had failed him.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to accept that this had been the turning point of it all. He realised that after that event, everything had changed.

A tear managed to escape him. He had promised himself that there would be no more tears. but he couldn't help, he was the reason Eponine had gone. he was the reason why she had even thought of the act that she had committed to.

Then his mind wondered and found itself fixated on another memory.

It was a night after work. He was tired, and she was exhausted. But for a reason he couldn't remember, they somehow decided to take a bath.

They sat in the tub together, his legs on either side of her. She curled up against him. And they would just let their skin absorb the warm water they sat in. She listened to his heart beat, taking in every thump, it reminded her that they were alive and that this was all real. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his head on top of hers. They revelled in the silence.

When she was ready to get out, she pulled away and splashed some water onto her face. He smiled. He pulled her closer once again and places his hands on either side of her face. He kissed her. When he pulled away, he tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. Once again he reminded her that he loved her. She smiled, but only for a second before it would disappear once again. Sometimes a sad smile was better than no smile at all.

He wonders why he didn't see it.

Or, as he soon realised, why he chose to ignore it.

Maybe he didn't love enough after all

A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.