Author's Note: Not exactly sure where this came from, or whether or not I will continue it (I have a few ideas). There's still A Raven Fallen to finish (it's almost done) and Living in Memories to work on, but this little bit popped into my head during the past few weeks, when, due to school and other stress factors, I haven't had much opportunity to get things down. Now, with the amount of stress dying down slightly, I may finally have some time to write, but I can't make any promises.

Hope you like it! :)

Fifteen minutes. Such a short span of time, relative to months, years, centuries, and so on, but for one so anxious, it feels like a millennium.

She leaves the room for the time being, to occupy her mind otherwise while she waits. She wants her mind to settle, to not panic, to not freak out, but oh, how terrible she is at that. Especially when it could involve something so life-changing.

However, when the fifteen minutes is up, she cannot bring herself to go back into that room—As much as she wants to know, she's afraid, terrified, of what she might find.

She's in her final year of college, less than two semesters away from graduation and receiving her degree. That was all her focus was for the past three, four years, besides her job and her relationships with her boyfriend, family, and friends, but her degree, that was her main focus.

This, this was not something she wanted right now. In a few years, quite possibly, after she had a stable career path and was married, but not now, not when she was so close to achieving something she has spent years working towards. And to make matters worse, her boyfriend since high school broke up with her as soon as she suspected something wasn't right and had mentioned it to him (No one knows except her).

She is still sitting on the floor outside of the bathroom, holding the box in her hands with tears still streaming down her face, when her roommate of two years gets home. She never heard the jangling of keys when he had unlocked the door to get into their little two bedroom apartment, didn't hear his footsteps stop at the sight of her in misery. It's just that sudden flash of red when he sets down his backpack onto the floor with a concerned look on his face does she notice his presence; she does not know how long he had stood there frozen.

She glances up at him, only to find his eyes focused on the box in her hands.

"Is that..?"

She nods, choking back a sob.

He sits down beside her, wrapping his arms around her, allowing her head to rest upon his chest as she struggles to fight her fears and her tears. He runs his hand up and down her back, gently "shhh"-ing her as he tries to soothe her.

He lets her cry it out, doesn't move from the position at all until her breathing starts to return to normalcy.

"I'm scared, Enj." she admits, her voice still shaking as she pulls away from him a bit. "I haven't looked yet, but just the chance, and just thinking about it…I'm too scared to look."

He nods in understanding, and she swears she sees the fear in his eyes, too. He probably is trying not to let her see it, as his head turns away slightly, but she doesn't point it out to him.

"If I am…I…I don't know what I'm going to do and…" she starts to get worked up again, her head resting on his shoulder. "I…it's…this is too soon for me, and 'Parnasse…he…when I suggested I might be, he…"

He hushes her gently once more, trying not to have her get too worked up again. Yes, he is afraid for her, concerned how this could all play out. What could happen to her, what could happen to him…This just adds a plethora of questions and scenarios in his mind. If she is, if she isn't. What will happen if she is, what she'll do. What he can do to help her through this…

"It'll be alright, Ep." he says softly, slowly rocking back and forth. One way or another…

They sit like this for a few minutes in silence before either of them dare to move. She spends most of it in tears, close to him, while he just holds her tight, reminding her that he's there for her, even in difficult circumstances such as this.

"Would you like me to check for you?" he asks her hesitantly, to hopefully put an end to the stress of not knowing.

She pulls away from him at this, looking for sincerity in his eyes, before he receives a nod in reply. She seems reluctant to let him go, but perhaps, within the next few minutes or so, both of them will be able to put their minds at ease.

That what he hopes will be the case, and oh, hope can only do so much.

He doesn't know exactly what he should expect when he walks into the bathroom, his mind still rushing through the possibilities. Eponine has been a good friend to him since the high school years (it surprised almost no one, though, when both of them ended up going to the same university), always honest, straightforward with him when he's wrong…He has always been supportive with the choices she makes, as much as he might not be fond of them, and Montparnasse had been one of them.

It was not because Montparnasse was a terrible person. Granted, he did have some issues, but none that he considered to be too far gone for him to try and convince Eponine that she should reconsider her choice of companion. Something about Montparnasse simply rubbed him the wrong way, and the two of them constantly clashed, much differently than he and Eponine would.

Montparnasse always seemed to think that Eponine moving in with him was his way of trying to tear the two of them apart (Eponine had been roommates with Cosette until she and Marius got engaged. The pair wanted to move in together, and she did not want to get in their way). He, on more than one occasion, had been accused of trying to sleep with her, or to have, which he has refuted a countless number of times, that he doesn't love her that way, only as a friend. He has never thought of being with her that way, and is quite certain things will remain that way. She is only a close friend.

There was the one time where he and Montparnasse had a fight (something political, but the details escape him) that almost had the pair of them giving the other a black eye and a broken nose, and if Bahorel and Combeferre hadn't been there, the living room could have become a bloody mess before she got home, resulting in a trip to the emergency room.

This situation, though, is completely different. If Montparnasse left her in such a state, oh, there will be hell to pay.

The first thing he sees, which he was, of course, expecting to see, was multiple white sticks sitting on the bathroom counter, five to be exact. Then there was the multiple boxes discarded in the trash can by the sink. Her cell phone was sitting on the edge of the tub, probably just in case she needed someone right away once the shock of it all hit her.

He takes a look at each of those individual sticks one-by-one, each of them bearing the same result that has him shaking his head.

He is definitely going to get Montparnasse for this, and even if he doesn't, he is almost certain a portion of the Amis will.

He walks out of the bathroom, one of those white sticks in hand, trying to put together the words to tell her.

She hears the sound of footsteps shuffling across the carpet, and looks up at him expectantly, tears streaking her face. He swallows, trying to speak, but the words get caught in his throat.

The words don't come, and he can guess by the expression on her face that she knows without them. She stands up and wraps her arms around him, crying into his shoulder. He hugs her back, wishing he could find the words to comfort her, but instead he just holds her, hoping things will be okay.

Neither of them sleep easy that night. He ends up carrying her to her bed in tears, and when he tries to leave, asks him to stay.

He doesn't leave her side the entire night.