A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews and follows in the last few hours! I hope you'll like this chapter - it's a bit shorter, but I hope to elaborate on Eponine's situation a bit more. Plus, a visit from Marius is in the future ;D

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Les Mis. I wish I did, but I don't, so I'm borrowing Hugo's amazing characters to make you this story. No profit is made blah blah blah. You know it.

"Eponine!"

The cries were fairly far off, so she ignored them, pretending she couldn't hear the revolutionary's voice as he made his way behind her. She hoped that she might be able to out walk him, but the ache in her abdomen proved to slow her more than she would have liked. Every step she took gave another sharp, stabbing pain to her center one that reminded her of how she had ended up in this state. She was brought back once again to the arms of Marius Pontmercy - a place she fantasized about being each night before she fell asleep. She could still feel the burning of his lips against her temple, his sweet whisper as her dying breaths slipped out of her lips. But of course, she had simply fallen unconscious and somehow she had managed to pass as one of the dead bodies while the soldiers went about massacring her friends. She winced at the idea, a frown gracing her lips as she slowed, the memory acting as a heavy weight upon her shoulders. She didn't realize how drastically her pace had changed until she felt a hand sliding itself around her wrist, gripping onto her rather possessively She let a sharp gasp slip between her lips, turning around only to find Enjolras holding onto her arm, looking weaker than she had seen him.

"What do you want?" she snapped at him, wrenching her arm away. "Have you not insulted me enough? Are you not satisfied?"

The hurt upon her face was clear to Enjolras, his words had hurt her, and he was sure there would be no forgiveness anytime soon. He didn't expect it. Both of them were emotionally vulnerable, and he had rubbed salt in her wounds. He knew all too well that pushing away one of the only people who understood his emotional state probably wasn't the best idea on his part. So instead, he allowed her to wrench her arm away and met her hostile gaze.

"I want to help you, Eponine." He said simply.

"Help me?" the brunette scoffed, shaking her head. "Just as your barricade was supposed to help my situation? I beg your pardon, Monsieur, but I am beginning to doubt that you understand the meaning of the word. You have done nothing but hurt me, Monsieur, and I am supposed to trust you?" she asked, a cold edge to her voice. "Forgive me, but my brother is dead because of your help."

He was taken aback by the harshness of her words. Hurt, almost, but he wouldn't let her simple comments get to him. He wanted so terribly to lash out, to grab her and to shake her and to make her understand. He knew, he knew that pain, and he had felt it like a knife in his own wounds from the moment his eyes opened. He hadn't found himself at the pearly gates of heaven, but covered in his own blood, crawling through the Cafe de l'ABC in an attempt to wake the boys who he knew would never open their eyes again. When he'd come upon Joly, who stared upward at the ceiling, unblinking, he'd closed his eyes, putting him into a final state of resting. Could Eponine understand the ache that forced him to stay awake at night, the fear that invaded his mind any time he was finally able to find peace? With a heaving sigh, he shook his head and found himself at a loss for any kind words.

"I don't need your reminders of the blood upon my hands, Madame." he murmured, glancing down at her. "I live with the pain."

She shook her head at him, finding herself already becoming frustrated Instead of giving him the pleasure of a response, she turned on her heel and began walking again, hoping he would manage to take her hint that she didn't want him following her. She didn't need to be his charity case - she already had Marius trying to do that for him. She could still recall the pain she'd felt when he'd tried to pay her for the information she'd found about Cosette, it was too much for her heart to bear. Enjolras, however, couldn't seem to get it through that thick skull of his that she didn't need his assistance.

"Eponine." he said again, falling into step beside her.

"I do not want your charity, Monsieur Enjolras. I do not want your help. So if you would be so kind, Monsieur, I would like if you would leave me alone." she muttered toward him.

"See it less as charity then, Madame." he said, taking a few quick steps and standing in front of her. "Think of it instead as a proposition. I would like to offer you a place to stay, at least until you heal."

She shook her head and stepped around him, walking a bit faster now. "No thank you, Monsieur."

"Would it change your mind," he called after her, causing her pace to slow just enough for her to catch what he was saying. "If I told you Monsieur Marius would be the one tending to your wounds?"

Eponine froze in place, her heart skipping a beat at the very mention of his name. She knew all too well that Marius was in love with Cosette, but something about his presence drew her toward Enjolras. She frowned at him, now curious as to if he'd mentioned her feelings for Marius to the man. He quirked a brow when she closed the space between them, standing now only a foot away. Enjolras should have known that Marius would have that effect on her. In spite of his hopes that his offer would be enough, the use of his friend would have to do.

"Should I take that as an acceptance of my offer?" he asked.

Eponine hesitated, but gave an eventual nod of her head. "Only until I have healed," she reminded him surely. "And only because I wish to know of Monsieur Marius' state - I have not heard from him since..." she trailed off, touching the spot on her temple where his lips had been pressed absently.

Enjolras responded with a simple nod, placing his hand upon her shoulder and steering her gently in the direction of his apartment. At the very least, she would be staying as long as Marius directed, and would be off the streets out of the cold. He was thankful for that. Their situations made him feel a bit more protective of Eponine. He just hoped that she would accept his help willingly once she settled in.