Sorry it's been awhile since I've updated. This is the second of probably three chapters. There's actually some new content in this one, so that's good. Please, please review. Good or bad, feedback is wonderful and much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I own none of Les Mis or its characters. The dialogue is mine, except when it isn't.

Éponine ducked into an alley. The sun had risen hours ago, and she had spent the time hiding from her father's gang. She had to sleep. She curled up in a corner behind a pile of trash and dropped off to sleep.

Before she knew it, a pair of hands was shaking her roughly awake. She opened her eyes and her heart sank when she saw Montparnasse standing over her, grinning.

"Well, look what we have here," he sneered. "Won't your father be pleased with me… might even give me a little reward…" He ran an oily hand down the side of Éponine's face.

She swatted him away. "Leave me alone, 'Parnasse."

"Oh, no, can't do that," he chuckled. "Got to bring you back to the boss. And he's livid, let me tell you. You're in for it this time, 'Ponine." He looked positively delighted at the thought.

"You've gotta get me there first, and you know I'm faster," Éponine replied. She climbed to her feet, ready to run.

Montparnasse's grin only widened. "And where'll you go? The rest of the gang's out there too, you know. You come quiet and maybe I won't tell him you did it for that boy of yours.

Éponine considered a moment. She couldn't really hope to stay out of her father's grasp forever. And it would be worse if he knew about Marius. It was all very well for her to flirt with anyone she liked for a few extra coins, but falling in love? He'd kill her.

She sighed. "All right. Let's get this over with."

Thénardier was waiting with Brujon and Babet in the back of the alley where the gang usually met. He smiled widely when he saw his daughter. "Look at that, the runt can deliver." Montparnasse grinned at the praise and shoved Éponine forward.

Thénardier backhanded his daughter cruelly. "Not so bold now, are we?" He slapped her again, and she fell.

He turned to Babet, who tossed him a long leather belt. Éponine squeezed her eyes shut as the first blow fell. She rolled herself into a tiny ball and waited for it to end.

Twenty minutes later, Éponine lay alone in the alley. When he'd tired of beating her, her father had left, gang in tow. Éponine pulled herself gingerly to her feet, wincing. It hadn't been so bad, all in all. The bruises would fade. They always did.

What she wanted now was Marius. She knew he'd be helping to start work on the barricade. The rebellion was meant to start tonight. If he was going to be in danger, then Éponine would be standing beside him. She just needed to figure out how. Young women, no matter how ragged, didn't go into battle. But little boys did.

Éponine hurried up the street. For once, she had something to thank her father for. Though he usually preferred her to play seductress when begging and stealing, there were times she was of more use to him as a young boy. She looked only fourteen or so in her disguise, and now that Montparnasse had begun to look like a man, Thénardier had no one so young in his gang anymore to use instead.

Once she had donned the jacket and pair of trousers she used for such occasions, Éponine set off again. She found Marius in the Rue de Villette working on the barricade with several other students. She hurried up to him.

He didn't recognize her at first. "Hey little boy—what's this I see?" He sighed with frustration. "God, Éponine, the things you do."

Even his irritation was wonderful to hear. The very sound of his voice lifted the pain from her aching body. She smiled, enjoying falling into the easy and familiar rhythm of teasing him. "I know this is no place for me, still I would rather be with you."

"Get out before the trouble starts," Marius insisted, not amused. "Get out, 'Ponine, you might get shot."

"I've got you worried now, I have," she replied with an impish smile. "That shows you like me quite a lot."

Suddenly, his face lit up. "There is a way that you can help," he exclaimed. He began digging in his pocket. "You are the answer to a prayer. Please take this letter to Cosette and pray to God that she's still there." He held out the letter.

Éponine felt the pain of every lash and bruise from her beating fall back onto her skin. She took the letter silently, just staring at him as he grinned his thanks and hurried away.

"Little you know," she whispered sadly, finally understanding. "Little you care."

Holding back tears, Éponine climbed back over the barricade and started towards the Rue Plumet. Soon she was in front of the house. She felt a sort of bitter pleasure at finding Cosette still seated on the bench behind the gate. At least she wouldn't be hard to find.

Éponine peered through the wrought-iron bars. "Mademoiselle?" she called hesitantly.

Cosette started and looked up. She stood and took a step toward the house, her eyes locked Éponine.

"Please, mademoiselle, I have a letter for you," Éponine called again. "From the boy at the barricade in the Rue de Vilette."

"From Marius?"

Cosette hurried toward the gate and opened it. Éponine tried to keep her face hidden behind her cap as she held out the letter. When the other girl's fingers closed around it, Éponine touched the brim of her hat respectfully and turned to go.

"I'm sorry."

Éponine stopped. She turned her head and her eyes met Cosette's. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Cosette repeated. "For what they've done to you. I never thought I was leaving you to take my place."

"You do remember me."

Cosette laughed softly. "I recognized you the second I saw you, even before he said your name. You haven't changed so much, Éponine Thénardier."

Éponine smiled bitterly. "Haven't I?"

"No. But they haven't been kind to you either. You lost the inn, I assume." Éponine nodded. Cosette shook her head sadly. "And they were hardly kind when times were good. It must have been difficult."

So many people had said the same words over the past few years. Shallow sympathy, pitying looks. Poor little Éponine, hungry and battered, beaten to submit to her father's will. She grew so tired of it. She was no helpless martyr living off of the empty words of the fortunate. But this was different. Here was perhaps the only other person in the world who could truly understand what it meant to live a slave to the Thénardiers' will. And now she looked upon the child who had once made her life hell with nothing but empathy. Éponine blinked back tears, startled to find them stinging the corners of her eyes.

Cosette would be good to Marius.

Éponine looked at the other girl for a long time. Finally, she took a deep breath. "I'm glad to see you well," she said. Then she hurried away into the darkness.