Chapter Two

Enjolras

A frantic, constant knock at the downstairs door of the Café Musain tore me from sleep in the middle of the night.

I had just been having a very vivid dream about the battle to come, when the loud pounding woke me. The knock only sped up and got louder as I stumbled out of bed, hastening to pull on pants and a shirt over my sleeping clothes, continuing to stumble down the stairs. "I'm coming; I'm coming!" I rasped as I hurried across the ground floor room, rubbing the remaining sleep from my eyes. The wooden floorboards chilled my bare feet, which helped to wake me up. The knocking slowed down and quieted a little when I spoke.

And when I opened the door, still squinting a little from sleep, I was greeted by quite the surprise.

"Éponine?" I asked a little incredulously. "What're you –?"

"Please let me in, Enjolras," she begged, seemingly on the verge of tears. "I have to get away from him…"

"A-alright," I stammered, shutting the door behind her and re-locking it as she hurried in. I was now wide awake and extremely confused by this whole situation. I knew now was not the right moment to interrogate her, but my curiosity got the better of me as she half-collapsed into a chair at the table. "What's going on? Are you hurt?"

She shook her head hard, hastily wiping her eyes. "I'm fine."
It was obvious that she was lying, and I shook my head, too. "If you were fine you wouldn't have come to me, especially at this time of night." My eyes fell on her right hand that was resting on the table. "You're trembling," I said softly in concern as I sat next to her and took the gaunt, bony hand in both of mine. It shook like a leaf in my gentle grasp. "What's wrong?" I asked gently, barely placing a hand to her cheek. It came away with a thin line of red across my palm, which alarmed me more. "Éponine, you're bleeding…who did this to you?"

She recoiled from my touch as if I had slapped her, standing up abruptly and looking away from me. "Enjolras, please…"

I stood up also, more confused than ever. What on earth is wrong with this woman? "Éponine…it's just me. Me, Enjolras. You came to me; why are you so afraid? Just tell me what's going on," I said softly, but not touching her again. The trick now would be coaxing her into talking about what had happened. "Come upstairs," I attempted. "We can talk in my room, and I'll see to that cut on your face."

"I thought Joly was the medical student," she said dryly.

I suppressed a wince. The girl had always had a razor-sharp tongue, and knew how to use it. She grew up on mean streets. She probably had to. "He's taught me enough that I can help you," I answered. She hesitated for a moment, before cautiously following me up the stairs. "Can I get you a glass of wine?" I offered as she sat down on the edge of my bed.

"Please," she said heavily, holding her head and closing her eyes. After recovering the medical supplies I would need from the cabinet, I found an already-open bottle of Merlot in the wine storage and poured two glasses, handing one to her as I sat down.

"Now," I said gently, taking a drink, "what's troubling you?" I set the glass down on the floor and opened the jar of ointment. "Fair warning, this might sting a little." I started gently dabbing a little bit of the ointment across the length of the cut. Her cheek was hot to the touch, and it was still bleeding a little onto my finger.

She gasped softly at the sting, sipping her wine. "I-it's…nothing. I'm fine; I'll be fine." All I had to do is raise my eyebrows and look at her as if to say, No, you're not fine. Tell me what's going on. She sighed heavily. "Alright, you know that's not it…it's about Marius."

"What has he done?" I demanded, perhaps a little more harshly than I should have, unrolling the proper length of bandage. Everyone at the ABC knew Marius wasn't capable of hurting a fly, but if Éponine was this upset, then something bad must have happened.

"He's done nothing. That's exactly it," she answered bitterly, taking another drink of wine as I cut it. "I've loved him for years, and never once has he returned my affections. And tonight, I took him to Cosette's house, and watched as he told her everything I've wanted him to tell me for all those years. It…hurts, Enjolras."

I placed the bandage across her face and gently put a hand on her shoulder, though I was afraid of setting her off again. "I know, 'Ponine. Believe me, I know." Surprise flashed through her eyes when I use the nickname for her that the others at the ABC used – I had never called her that before; I was raised as a gentleman and addressed the women of my acquaintance by their given names. However, she didn't pull away from me. "What else? I can tell that's not all of it."

She nodded and took another drink of wine as I went to wash off my hands and put the medical supplies away. "Papa showed up at the house just after Marius left. He was going to attack Cosette's father…maybe kill him; I don't really know. Anyway, I screamed to warn them, even when Papa told me not to, so he…backhanded me…hard." She wiped her eyes again, clearly determined not to cry in front of me. "And as you discovered, he drew blood. He yelled something about the police, so I ran home…not that it would make things any better to go home to my Mama," she said bitterly. "I knew it wouldn't."

I nodded in understanding, taking another drink when I sat back down on the bed. Éponine's mother, Madame Thénardier, had quite the reputation for being…well, more than a bit of a shrew. She could dote on her children one moment, and beat them the next. Everyone said she was quite an inscrutable woman.

"Anyway, she interrogated me about where I'd been, and I told her Marius and I had been walking around the city. When I tried to defend myself and told her I love him, she laughed in my face and said, 'Oh, 'Ponine, my naïve little firstborn. How could you ever delude yourself into thinking that a wealthy man like Marius Pontmercy could ever condescend to love a filthy street rat like Éponine Thénardier?'"

She bit back tears as she quoted her mother's harsh words, and I clenched my left hand into a fist on the bed where 'Ponine couldn't see it. That bitch. How could she say that to her own daughter? Marius doesn't even know what he's missing!

"Before we could keep fighting, Papa came home and told me to get out of his sight before he killed me. He was, obviously, still furious that I had screamed back at Rue Plumet. So I went outside to do my regular lookout duties with Montparnasse…but then…h-he…" She stopped again, biting her lower lip insecurely.

"Éponine…" I start to say softly – almost tenderly, I notice – putting a hand to her shoulder again. "You don't have to – "

"I want to, Enjolras," she insisted. "I need to get this off my chest." I hesitated for a moment, but then nodded and gestured for her to continue. "He…tried to come onto me…" She took a moment to gather herself, staring down at her lap while she spoke. "He pushed me against the wall first, and…kissed me…" she shuddered. "It was awful. Then he…grabbed my breast in one hand, and…tried to lift my skirt with the other…"

I could perfectly picture that asshole Montparnasse doing exactly what she described, and I tried unsuccessfully to keep my blood from boiling with rage. "That slimy bastard," I hissed. "How'd you get away?"

"Knocked him out," she muttered, looking down at the floor. "And then I ran here before Papa had a chance to catch me…because I knew I could still trust you."

"Always, Éponine," I answered surely. "I'll always be here for you."

A bit to my dismay, she broke down in tears again, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. "Why is this happening to me, Enjolras?" She sobbed. "What did I do to deserve this punishment? What is God up to?!"

"Oh, 'Ponine…" I whispered, standing and taking her in my arms. The wine sat on my bedside table, long forgotten. I swayed gently back and forth, holding her close, stroking her hair and letting her cry as I shushed her and murmured random nonsense in her ear. "Shh, it's alright…I'm here, you're fine…everything's going to be alright, I promise. God is not punishing you for anything. Don't cry, 'Ponine…it'll all be fine, I'll make it okay." I realized, in the midst of murmuring to her and rocking her back and forth, that I had never really been the comforting type – I was always the great orator who made the people's blood boil with revolution – yet here I was, holding this sobbing woman and doing my best to calm her down. And it even seemed to be working, because her sobs were soon gasps, and then just ragged breaths. Grantaire would have a field day if he could see this. Who knew I had a soft side?

Suddenly, of my own accord, I drew her back from me and ran the pad of my thumb across her cheek, drying her remaining tears. "Éponine…" I whispered, my tone of voice almost passionate. She looked at me for a moment, wide-eyed, before I slowly dipped my head down and did the most insane thing I could think of.

Éponine

The kiss didn't last more than a second, but it was still good. His lips were surprisingly soft and sweet against mine. His touch was gentle without being too weak, yet strong without being too forceful at the same time. It felt almost cleansing after the forced kiss from Montparnasse. There was no passion, no heat to it – just the simple fact that he understood, even if I didn't, what was going on.

But when the moment ended, I was more confused than ever. Enjolras had never behaved this way towards me – if anything; he'd been pretty standoffish. And now here he was, holding me while I bawled my eyes out on his shoulder and kissing me when I stopped. It didn't make sense.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" he asked softly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"W-what?"

"You can't exactly go home with your father as angry as he is, now can you?" he remarked wryly. "All I'm offering you is a bed under a friendly roof and a meal when you wake up tomorrow morning."

"Then I may have to take you up on it," I said, realizing just how weary – and how hungry – I was.

He smiled and went to another cabinet next to his bed, producing a pillow and blankets for himself. "I'm going downstairs; I can sleep on a makeshift bed down there," he explained. "The real bed's all yours."

"Enjolras – " I started to protest.

"Éponine, there's no point in arguing this with me. You won't win."

I sighed. "Fine, if you insist."

"I do," he answered, still smiling. "Sleep well, 'Ponine," he said softly, kissing my forehead before quietly shutting the door behind him, as if I were already asleep.

I watched him leave and listen to his footsteps fade away down the stairs, more confused than ever. What's gotten into him, being so kind to me and taking me in for the night? He's never acted this way. I shook my head to clear it and slipped my dress off before climbing into the bed. It was still warm from him, and extremely comfortable. Soon, I'd forgotten my worries and was fast asleep.

A/N: Well, that was interesting! Hehe...things get more interesting soon! Chapter 3 will be up shortly!