Enjolras & Èponine - maybe some other pairings after some time.

Romance / Drama/ Angst/ Friendship/ Humor (just a bit because Les Mis is all about feelings, so I can't help but make everyone feel! :'D)

Rated: starting as T, but it'll probably be rating up for reasons of spicy scenes and maybe some grue the time coming. Not sure yet. So'll stick to the T. I'll warn you when I feel like rating up. :D

Notes: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback! I know I'm in no position to complain, but you guys would make me the happiest person if you shared your opinion with me. I'm being honest here, so be honest to me too! :3

Éponine is being a bit bitchy, isn't she? Everything has an explanation, my dear fellow, and this chapter shall lead the begining of it - not sure if it'll be short or not.

All I have to say is I'm indeed extremely happy and encouraged due all you had a hard working following my fanfiction and some having it as favorite! I'm serious!

Just tell me what you think. Friendly chapter this one.

Hope you enjoy it! :3

Grief

"I heard Mademoiselle Éponine paid you a visit last night." Enjolras was in bed, under his sheets, when he heard the familiar voice from Joly, the physician. He came in his room with his bag, wearing his simple clothes from the day before.

Joly seemed a bit embarrassed about Enjolras looking through the ceiling, having his deep thoughts disturbed by the physician who was supposed to be his grieving friend to something that happened because Enjolras was possibly a selfish bastard and manipulative too, who made his friends fight a revolution and, apparently, have them all killed.

If anything, Joly should feel ashamed of Enjolras and not himself for intruding his thoughts.

"We had quite the argument." Enjolras replied bluntly, glancing at his friend sideways, not really feeling the need to sit down and talk to him.

The gentleman took his seat beside him just like the day before and put his bag in the floor, a bit worried about that, but he brushed it away, gazing his green eyes at his lying bruised friend. Joly seemed tired above all things, with some red in the white of his eyes and purple circles rounding them, his face pale and his nose a bit red from crying, Enjolras deduced.

The friend put a small and sad smile in his lips, green eyes downwards and thinking of something to say, making the blonde's blue orbs wonder something else about the young man in front of him, the thing that bothered him the day before and he didn't had time to ask because he was left alone with his lost memory – Joly's leg should be injured from the revolution, Enjolras figured, sighting one of the long legs covered in brown pants stretched out a bit sideways to the position the young physician was sitting as facing the lying blonde man.

Joly followed his gaze to his leg and widened, opening his mouth and murmuring an understanding to the way Enjolras glared at him from his pillow "I'm injured from the barricade." The tall brunette pulled his lips into a one-sided smile while talking, his eyebrows rising and relaxing at the gesture, he even inclined his head sideways "It hurts a little, but I'll manage." He gulped after that and Enjolras thought he had seen it somewhere, probably the fear of getting some infection through his injuries or something like that, yet his attention was totally directed to the barricade note coming from his tall and grieving friend who had his posture a bit crooked and heavy shoulders "I got shot in my thigh, right here," he pointed the place and winced a bit at it. He was also pretty messed up like Enjolras and Éponine, but he still managed to get around and take care of them. Indeed, a very kind man "And some National Guards cut me with their swords here." He gestured to his torso, but quickly waved always, not very comfortable at that "Nothing serious, though I thought I would die with the shot and the bleeding away." He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck and giggling.

Enjolras felt his lips pulling sideways, into a quick smile of nostalgia. Joly was one to be restless about deeds involving his health – or everyone's health around him, to be exactly.

"Feisty one, isn't she?" Enjolras track of thoughts missed their goal when he heard Joly's words, wandering his eyes to the green ones again who had somewhat of a troubled mixture behind them "Mademoiselle Éponine." His blue eyes understood now that his friend couldn't yet read his mind and he wasn't to blame Enjolras lost the tracks that would, or not, led him to his memories forgotten – well, Joly seemed also to have had some sort of an argument with Éponine because he ran a hand through his hair and had this exhausted eyes while speaking of the young lady the room next door "She won't let you get away with anything." He said with a sigh and Enjolras sat on his bed, a bit awkwardly and accepting the help from the tall friend, finally nodding and agreeing with his words.

"My thoughts exactly." Enjolras said as a matter of fact and Joly let a laugh come out of his mouth usually pointing downwards, and he patted the friend in the back, careful not to accidently touch the injured area.

"She's a tough young lady." Joly said and Enjolras already knew that - he had plenty of her toughness the last night "You shouldn't really pay attention to what she tells you now." Now this made the blonde man furrow his eyebrows and Joly raised his hands in the air, in sign of peace "I know, I know. You want to smack me right now; however you must take in regard the shock she went through. She's mourning so many people and things were always complicated to her. So never mind whatever she told you yesterday."

Enjolras sighed heavily, passing a hand through his curly hair and getting stuck with some stupid knots. He pushed through and felt the acute pain of pulling hair, but he didn't worry about it. He was thinking about Joly's request.

How could he never mind about all those things she told him the last night?

"I do not think I can do that." Enjolras replied, gazing his wondering deep blue eyes elsewhere but the physician's face "Those words had logic to me. I do not see how I will not ever mind about them." Joly sighed and Enjolras looked at his tired face again.

"My friend, those were words of a hurting girl." He didn't mean any harm, Enjolras knew, but there was something burning already inside the blonde man that he couldn't let any understatement pass by him. He had to reply, no matter what cost.

"Does it make them any less true?" Joly paused at that, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his thick brows in concern, leaning closer to his friend and holding firmly at his arm.

"Enjolras, I don't know what happened here last night or what she told you." Joly answered carefully, almost whispering. But in contrast to his low voice, his green eyes had a determination that the blonde man never thought he'd ever see in the kind physician's eyes "If anyone is to blame, my friend, is the king." Enjolras blinked his blue eyes to Joly's statement, furrowing his brows and feeling a throb in his head.

The King. A King was to blame as the reason for Enjolras revolution and the death of many of his friends and, currently, Éponine's fury towards him. That was something that, indeed, made his mind blur more than before.

There was a point in the revolution against a King, Enjolras accepted that, yet, there were so many missing pieces and he wasn't even sure what truly happened in the revolution that killed his friends and was the cause he lost his mind. It was too unfortunate for such awful things to happen now.

"This is no time to speak about that fucking bastard." Joly stated moving away from the friend and breathing heavily, a bit irritated at the turn of their conversation. Enjolras breathed deeply, controlling the pain in his head. He wasn't very fond of the medicine he took to kill the pain since it would only take him back to sleep and he didn't want to sleep again without needing "I don't think you recovered your memories, am I right?" should he tell the physician about his dream of a barricade or should he just say no to his question? The dream wasn't very specific either way.

"I'm not sure." Enjolras stated annoyed and felt the throb again. If there was something that got in his nerves was to not be sure or not be aware of situations. He hated not to know something and he hated to be insecure. It pained him in the bones to have such a feeling.

Another throb in his head and he hissed low enough to Joly not mind about it.

"Don't push yourself, Enjolras." Joly said warmly, placing a lighthearted smile in his lips that didn't reach his eyes "In your current condition, you must rest." Joly patted him in the back again, carefully, and saw the furrow between Enjolras' eyebrows, grinning to it "I know you hate not being aware of things. You must deal with it, for now, and I promise you I'll help you get them back as soon as you get better." And there was the determination Enjolras saw before in the apple green eyes of his friend.

There was something about the tall and clumsy gentleman in front of him that gave Enjolras trust, confidence in the promise the friend gave him. Maybe that was the reason – he had a friend who cared about him enough to promise him the help to find his lost memories in the current tempest going on in his head.

Enjolras nodded slightly, feeling the throb a little less painful after the reassurance coming from Joly and let a relieved sigh escape his lips he didn't know he was holding. He could trust someone, at least "Merci, my friend." And he saw the pale cheeks of the gentle physician becoming red at the title.

Joly smiled genuinely now, blushing and nodding enthusiastically at that and Enjolras found himself with the corners of his mouth twisted up. It was the first time he felt joy, at least what Enjolras could remember. It was a good thing to see his friend happy for a small fraction of time "You have no idea how it is good to see you, my friend. You really don't." there was the relief from the mournful young man in front of him "I'm so glad I'm even speechless." He laughed awkwardly and rubbed his face at that.

Enjolras saw the glister of tears in his face, even if Joly was trying his hardest to wipe them away before the blonde noticed them. Suddenly there were too many for Joly to keep on wiping them away, letting his face reddened from so much rubbing, and he looked down, ashamed from his sudden cry.

Then Enjolras realized there had been no such thing as time to mourn for his friends to the physician in front of him, who had been wounded and still managed to take care of Éponine and himself while unconscious. Joly didn't have time to rest his tired body from the battle and he didn't have time to cry over his friends, even if he had shed some tears before while coming from his room to Éponine's room. He was grieving, but he couldn't let himself be cared away because he had Enjolras with a serious head injury to worry and Éponine's toughness to handle.

It was obvious that Joly would burst at some point, he was even oblivious to the pain a shot could cause and he had it in his leg, still walking around as if he had only sprained it. He was only human and he managed to overcome it all just for the well-being of people he considered his friends, not asking anything in return.

A precious soul to this sick world Enjolras thought to himself and before he could think twice, he had his left hand in Joly's shoulder, patting it in a comfortable pace for both of them and trying to let the weight in his shoulders fall off.

Joly was taken aback for a moment, not really expecting to be touched or comforted by Enjolras, but he didn't move. His tears flowed quickly now and he took off his glasses, placing them in the cabinet next to Enjolras' bed. He sniffed at the beginning, holding the sobs for awhile and, then, releasing them with anguish, trembling and inhaling deeply to retrieve the breath into his lungs. His lips trembled and he panted and Enjolras could only look at him with saddened eyes.

He should be just like Joly is, even worst, but he couldn't find it in him to be this miserable. His forehead was wrinkled since he couldn't help pulling down his eyebrows to the sight of his friend melting into mourning tears and even felt the urge to say something. What to say was the question ringing in his mind now and he couldn't find any word to make it feel better.

It would never feel better, however. Nothing is like it would be before and there was nothing Enjolras could say to make Joly feel any less sad.

Therefore, Enjolras leaned closer to his friend and tried to give him an awkward hug, to comfort the grieving young man, maybe to share his pain, to remember something or to just tell him he was there and that he could unburden himself next to him.

Joly hugged the friend back, not at all feeling awkward or ashamed about it. He held Enjolras firmly, his big and clumsy arms away from his bruises and trembling, his fists closed and his heart biting faster than drums. The blonde let out a sympathetic sigh and the brunette tried to say something, being unable due the never-ending sobs closing his throat and the air in him.

The last Amis de L'Abaissé stood there, quiet and mourning for an hour or so, not really caring about the sick world around them. There were things needed to be taken care of, there would always be, however it was time to be sad and only be it. Nothing less; nothing more.

Joly stood the entire afternoon talking with Enjolras after he cried all he could for his lost friends, telling him how Musichetta, who was his mistress and an Opera singer, and some of her friends that knew the Amis de L'Abaissé helped him to find appropriate tombs to bury them and also helped him to write for their families – even if most of the friends declined their wealth after joining the cause the revolution fought or having their wealthy parents disinherited them, afraid of the feedback it might've had caused them or having the family reputation put in steak, it would be better if they were aware of the death of the students.

Many letters to write caused Joly inflammation in the tendon and it hurts, he remembered Enjolras almost every moment they spoke, but it would go away if he had some medicines.

Joly also told Enjolras he was concerned about their stay in the hospital which couldn't postpone five days from their arrival, since the young physician was, yet, attending to the MedicalSchool and, therefore, not graduated. He didn't work in the hospital, another problem to go through it, but the nuns had him in after seeing how he got there caring him with Éponine's help and some kind gentlemen in their way there – a very long story full of awful moments in which Enjolras finally knew the reason his back hurt so much and the presence of dark purple bruises all over his arms.

The Lord's hand in it, of course, let the strict nuns allow them to stay for at least one week and they couldn't cause trouble to the other diseased patients. There was one more problem to add to their endless list of issues which was Joly being totally responsible for them, leading him to almost never leaving the hospital due the lack of medical attendance to him or Éponine.

"Yet the nuns came last night and took Éponine back to her room." Enjolras told him wondering the reasons for them to come – well, she was screaming and she might've been a little of trouble, but he didn't see why the nuns would ever mind about them.

"About that, they complained to me this morning." He said yawning, recalling the dull older nun telling him all she knew about them and that she wouldn't restrain herself the next time the gamine did anything to disturb the peace.

"They even gave me medicine." Enjolras continued to tell him and Joly shrugged, a bit hesitant in what to answer.

"I guess they had compassion over your…" he cleaned his throat and the blonde man made a face "Condition. Obviously, trying to let you comfortable after dealing with Mademoiselle Éponine." Enjolras could do with that.

And Joly explained they should leave in about two days because they wouldn't need to stay much more, besides there was the National Guard hunting down the living students from the barricades and they should lay low in somewhere safe.

"Though we also have a problem in there." Enjolras felt the throbbing pain coming back to the lump behind his right ear to, apparently, the fifth time Joly told him they had a problem. However, by seeing the almost tangible desperation in the green eyes, the blonde man nodded to the friend to continue "Someone is missing."

Enjolras frowned at that "What do you mean?" who was missing?

"Well, while I was there to recognize the bodies of our friends," He gulped, a shade of pale green coming to his face showing Enjolras it wasn't the best moments of Joly's life "I couldn't find Marius." The green eyes glared hesitant at the deep blue orbs that seemed vague at that.

"How could a body go missing?" there was this unmistakable nonconformist voice coming from the blonde and Joly hissed at that "Are you really sure he was even there, Joly? He can't vanish like that."

"I know!" Joly assured Enjolras, confident of what he saw during the battle "He was there! He got shot and he fell! I saw him falling!" Joly looked down, the weight in his shoulders paining him "I know he was injured, Enjolras. It was an ugly thing to see."

Enjolras sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair and standing up, tightening the knot around his waist not to be naked in front of his friend. He walked around the large room – the only one the nuns had away from the patients which had the plague on them. Due to their many bruises and fleshy injuries, it was only fair for them to stay away as far as they could from the defected – at least this they could give them.

"Well, if he was shot and it was, indeed, an awful injury, he couldn't have gone anywhere far by himself." Enjolras stated as a matter of fact.

"No, my friend. He couldn't have gotten anywhere by himself." Joly warned him, his expression depressing. Enjolras turned to face the lad, seeing how he tried his hardest to keep the tears away from his eyes "He fell unconscious."

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the headache he was trying so hard to control burst in his skull "Now, that is an issue." He grunted a bit too loud for his liking, which alerted Joly of his pain.

"Enjolras, get back to bed. You can't worry so much. You must rest." Joly warned him in a reprehensive tone, getting up slowly and feeling his leg aching.

"The both of us must rest and I haven't seen you doing it at all." He replied sharply, pulling his curls away from his face and grimacing at his injured friend across the room.

Joly rolled his eyes and crossed his chest "You're too stubborn for my delight." Joly snorted and grabbed his bag in the floor "I have to check on Mademoiselle Éponine now. She wanted to know how the funeral was." he had this unwillingly expression in his face that told Enjolras he wasn't very comfortable in living "I can't even imagine what she's going to do when I tell her Marius is missing."

After that Enjolras felt a sudden burst of information involving this Marius and Éponine in his memories, memories that didn't have much to do with him, still in his mind, something for him to remember how this feisty little brunette was.

And he saw, as if he wasn't sharing his moment with Joly anymore, as if he stood in the room in the second store of the café which was lit by many candles spread in the walls and over the furniture with many people around him. There was a low mumble, some words he had heard after loosing his memory – the king and the revolution and the barricade – around him, he had a very nice red waistcoat on him and a pistol near his hands leaning over the table.

There was a small moment when his head turned around and he saw this young man, of slightly orange and freckled skin next to him, dark hair and dreamy, travelling green eyes, wearing a blue coat and an infatuated face.

He tried to keep himself serious about the plans going on around the table in which Enjolras had been supporting his body, but his eyes used to wander far from there, not even blinking away from their position.

A voice called for Marius and the freckled brunette next to him woke from his daydreaming, turning his head around to find out who had just talked to him and Pontmercy – Enjolras recalled his last name because it was something those boys did: they called each other with their surnames – finally found the owner of the calling, making the blue eyes of the blonde wander until they finally landed at the petite figure on the stairs, gripping tightly the wooden balustrade.

She didn't look at all like the girl staying in the room next door in the hospital that sneaked in his and decided to charge him of guilty of all the worst that happened to them three days ago. She was very different from the bruised Éponine, all wrapped up in bandages and clean camisole, of sad and exhausted expressions.

That Éponine standing in the stairs had dirt all over her small body, with her long brown hair stiff and olive skin darker than the actual tone she had a couple days before. Her clothes, a green blouse and burgundy skirt with a brown belt in her waist to held the pieces together because it was baggy for her skinny figure, had moth holes and were crimpled, tore in the edges and filthy. Her bare feet were almost completely black from muck and the toes were calloused, although she didn't seem to mind.

She had this dreamy smile on her lips when she saw Marius making his way towards her and she had her bony hand behind her back, trying to control her joy on finally seeing him. Her chocolate brown irises glistened as he touched her bare arm and she widened her smile so her yellowed teeth was appealing and her dimples showed in her prominent cheek bones.

Enjolras realized she felt something towards him, but as he gazed back at the freckled man he didn't see the same feeling flowing from him, even if he had this goofy smile on his face and called her Ponine.

"Did you find her?!" Enjolras listened to the excited voice coming from Pontmercy and then his eyes were over the petite mademoiselle, catching her eyes faltering and her posture hunching over it.

He saw the hesitance in her reply, but she brushed it away and managed a smile in return while nodding to the young man in front of her, a smile that never reached her hazel eyes.

Both pair of eyes, green and brown, were suddenly in Enjolras face, waiting for him to say something about Marius fleeing from there and about Éponine to be intruding on their reunion. However, all that the blonde man did was snort and grimace.

Soon after that, Marius was running down the stairs and Éponine was close in his feet, but she gazed back at Enjolras with those brokenhearted orbs, the deep circles around the eyes and the brows slightly furrowed at him. He caught himself grimacing at her, which didn't take long before a sigh escape his lips and his eyes softened at her hurt look.

He knew she'd be irritated at him, but Enjolras couldn't help feeling pity at her for seeing Marius using her to get to the other girl. Because he and all their other friends knew about Éponine having feelings towards the freckled Pontmercy – they also knew he was completely oblivious to that.

She turned around to leave and Enjolras flashback was over, his wandering blue eyes were back at the hospital room and he could see Joly apprehensive glare at him – he had one eyebrow furrowed and one of his eyes was almost popping out. His glasses were back on, though, and his bag was in hands.

"Are you alright?" Joly managed to ask, taking short steps towards Enjolras who breathed deeply, astonished at how he recalled that moment in the café.

It was sort of incredible.

"Enjolras?" Joly called him again and Enjolras let himself smile small.

"Joly." Enjolras said startling the student that widened his both eyes in return, paying attention to the commanding sound of his voice "I know Pontmercy!"

"We all knew Pontmercy. He was quite the revolutionary before he met – Huh?!" and Joly, a bit oblivious to what Enjolras said, realized what the friend meant, letting the biggest smile spread in his lips to the big news "You remembered him?!" Enjolras nodded, a genuine smile settle on his lips, and Joly suddenly was hugging the friend much smaller than himself "You remembered Pontmercy!"

"My shoulder…" Enjolras complained feeling the sting in his collarbone and Joly let him go, apologizing for it "Calm down. I don't remember much, but I remember how he was at least."

Joly shrugged, the smile never leaving his tired face "Better than nothing, my friend!"

"And I wish you the best of luck while telling Éponine about his body missing." He said it with honesty in his voice; he was serious about it, although Joly didn't quite get his earnest.

"So much for friendship." Joly scoffed shaking his head and turning around to leave, dragging his injured leg along. Enjolras didn't get his sudden temper "And here was I thinking you would suggest tagging along."

Enjolras cleaned his throat, uncomfortable about it "I do not believe she wants to see me. And I do not believe she would let me go unharmed if I'm there with you when you tell her about Pontmercy." Joly glanced at him over his shoulder, sour about going alone to face Éponine.

"I always knew you were afraid of women, Enjolras." Joly teased before leaving the room and closing the door.

"What?!" her voice was raspy and she sounded desperate "Marius is missing?!"

She was desperate and angry, so angry she could punch the wall if she had a hand in a decent condition of smacking something or someone – one of her hands was sprained and the other tried to detain the shot from hitting Marius in the barricade, so it had a whole closer to the edge of it, aching a lot.

Her eyes were close to tears and she needed to get out of there because staying within four walls for so long without hitting the outside even once was suffocating her. Seeing the streets of Paris through a window was nothing to compare as seeing it from the alleyways. And even if she had a roof over her head right now, she knew it wasn't forever and it wouldn't keep her unharmed much longer.

Poor monsieur Joly wasn't to blame, she knew that and she felt terrible after treating him so badly when he was being so good to her, taking care of her injuries and giving her a shelter until she was better. However, she didn't like to be his charity case – no one's charity case, for the matter.

She spotted him sitting in the bench by her bed, looking down and running his hand through his dark locks, as desperate as she was. He had been through so much burying the Amis by himself and sending those letters – he gave her a letter too which she was to deliver the Thérnadiers after he would let her wander around Paris, to warn them about Gavroche's death and where was his tomb so they could pay their condolences.

She swallowed the crying as she remembered the fact her little brother, barely twelve years old, of blonde messy hair and shiny green eyes, crooked yellowed teeth in his usual devilish smile, had bravely died in the wrong side of the barricade, looking after powder in the Guards' bodies.

If her parents were to know Gavroche was dead, they would do anything to mourn him because they deserted the little one when he had just left being a toddler in the merciless streets of Paris. The one thing they would probably do with the knowledge of his grave was getting him off his coffin and to sell it along his tomb. They would just throw his body in the sewers with the rest of the urchin of Paris because they were scum and that's exactly what they would do.

Éponine had already decided to tell nobody else about Gavroche, although she was sure she would visit him when Joly let her go. She would take the most beautiful flowers she could find and place it in his tomb, because he deserved it.

Going back to the awful news, how could Marius body go missing? What was wrong with that sick world she lived in for someone to kidnap his body?!

What the hell is going on?!

"Yes. He couldn't have gone anywhere by himself because, as I told you before, he was unconscious when I last saw him." The gentle monsieur replied the gamine, his eyes exhausted but patient. He massaged his neck, trying to release some burden of his back and closing his eyes "No one saw him when I was back at Saint Michel yesterday. They said the remaining Guards set the bodies of the students aligned inside the Café, the Inspector checked on them and then left. I and Musichetta's friends were the only ones to move them after that. No one would take a lifeless body away."

Yes. What is the use of a lifeless body? Éponine didn't know, but there were many bewitch around Paris' darkest alleys and they did some black magic with some corpses sometimes. There were always insane people around and that Éponine was sure to her bones – she used to live with them and she used to call them Mama and Papa.

Unless… Éponine let Joly speak to himself for awhile, making her own theories that might not be all wrong. Well, she could at least try!

"Unless he's not dead!" she startled Joly who was interrupted in his monologue about how people would loot corpses whenever they fell and that Marius had a nice pocket to loot.

And for a moment Éponine thought she was being ridiculous about her feelings towards Monsieur Marius. Even though he told her when everyone thought she was dead he wondered if his words of love could close her wounds, he couldn't be serious about it. She was dying and he wanted her to die the less miserable she could because he is a sweetheart or because he was probably feeling bad after she confessed her love for him while almost dying.

It doesn't make it any less ridiculous just because she loves him to think he's still alive. When she left the barricade with Enjolras unconscious in her arms and a hobbling Joly by her side, she hadn't seen him either. Jean Valjean might have taken him with the other bodies after she woke up. That made sense.

He won't be alive just because you want him to be, Éponine. Stop being ridiculous!

"Mademoiselle." Joly's careful voice rang in her ear and she turned around to face him again, she felt her cheeks reddening as he sighted the tracks of tears in her olive skin "I'd be mostly glad to know another friend of mine is alive." He had a deadly serious tone in his voice; his face was soft, though "However, it was a miracle for us three to leave the barricade without being caught. You know it."

"I know." she nodded, not really voicing the words.

"If he's alive, it's the smallest of possibilities and I don't think we're in emotional condition to fool ourselves." Éponine wasn't used to hear harsh words coming from Joly, not at all. They were dull and they practically smacked her dreams straight out of her face without her even having the time to further thinking about them. Nevertheless, he couldn't be more accurate. They were in no mental condition to delude themselves "If he's alive, we'll figure it out. If he's dead, we'll figure it out either way." He was certain about it and Éponine felt the reassurance burning inside of her, the symptom those schoolboys caused her when they talked about their dreams and promises.

Their beautiful words…

The skinny brunette sat down in front of the large and clumsy gentleman, sighing and letting some tears escape her eyes. She rubbed them away, her less wounded hand smoothing her scarred face.

"Did he remember anything?" Joly was startled by the sudden change of subject. He did let the small smile reach his lips, though.

"He remembered Marius." Éponine exclaimed soundless, her mouth opening and closing at that. She didn't really know what to think of it "I think he remembered you and him, though." Her chocolate orbs wandered to the green ones, seeing the smallest of suggestive glints in them, telling her something she should know how to respond or to brush it away.

She didn't have in her to reply kindly, though. Just speaking of him sent shivers down her spine and she wasn't really sure why – she didn't want to be sure of it. She narrowed her eyes "Good. I only hope him not to lie to me the next time, then."

Joly fought the urge to roll his eyes, aware it would only fire up the feisty gamine in front of him "Mademoiselle, he couldn't have loose his memory willingly." Joly suggested, definitely not wanting to start an argument.

Éponine, on the contrary, wasn't really minding to argue with someone right now "I don't know if you remember it correctly, Monsieur Joly, or if you lost your memory also…" she started, scoffing with the most serious tone she had ever used towards the physician. He grimaced at it, but let her continue "However, your friend in the room neighbor to this one promised he would never forget us. Am I right?" she paused waiting for Joly to correct her; he said nothing, though, and she continued "Now, I might not have gotten shot in my head, but I stick to my promises until I fulfill them. Or I'd rather die than breaking them." She stated abruptly, folding her arms over her chest and embracing herself for the answer to come.

"And, as a matter of fact, you had not been shot in the head." Joly stated bluntly, finishing their argument there, seeing how uneasy the gamine got after it "If he was in his perfect state of mind, Mademoiselle, you know he would still remember and keep his promise." She unfolded her arms, letting them fall slowly and limp by her sides, uncomfortable as she recalled the argument from last night.

She was harsh with him because she never thought she would see him so… Lost. It was the closest to the Armageddon seeing the fierce leader of the Amis de L'Abaissé with that pitiful dim eyes, not matching at all with the beautiful and deep blue of his irises which could take anyone into his world of freedom, equality and fraternity – a beautiful place, indeed, a dream that would never be real if his owner had forgotten all about it.

How would little boys like Gavroche be able to attend school and be treated equally to the bourgeois children if nobody would join their cause? Would have a decent future, a free future, if the one fighter for it had lost the tracks of why he would do it?

Enjolras had forgotten the reasons he ended up in this hospital's bed and that was something Éponine hadn't find in her yet to forgive him, even if she knew it was the most childish and stupidest thing she could ever do towards the man who let her be someone who could make a difference and help fight for a better future for her little brother, her beloved little brother that grew up away from her because their parents were a bunch of irresponsible people and scum.

Things just lost their essence after Gavroche was killed and things suddenly were gone completely when Enjolras told her he didn't remembered and he was sorry for making her have the worst time of her life.

Little he knows about the worst time of her life. She was barely eighteen and she was having the least bad time of her life, and it was still pretty much messed up for becoming anything better anytime soon.

Little he sees Éponine is as broken as the furniture holding the barricade – she would hand over any given time and she didn't want Enjolras to fall again because she couldn't bear him. She wouldn't let him fall even if he had forgotten her a hundred times.

She had saved him, after all, and she could die with that triumph. She was successful in her promise to Grantaire and he wouldn't mind if she was to meet him in the after-life sooner than the expected.

He wouldn't. Not at all.

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