By the time the store was closed, Eponine was falling out of her chair, she was that tired. Cosette spent most of the time in the storeroom. She had always been slightly weaker than Eponine…well, maybe weak was the wrong word. Eponine could build a barricade around her true emotions so that all people saw was a blank, unexpressive mask; it was a talent that she had perfected from years of being yelled at by her father. But Cosette's life had always been more...sheltered than hers, and she took things harder than Eponine because of that.

Eponine had put the last book in its correct place on the Young Adult shelf (she couldn't stand it when people picked up a book, glanced at it, and put it down somewhere else) when Cosette flipped the sign on the front door back around. "Hey 'Ponine, my dad and I were going to go get dinner somewhere tomorrow night after closing. Do you want to come?" Cosette called over.

Eponine brushed her choppy fringe out of her eyes. "Sounds like a father-daughter thing to me," she remarked cautiously.

Cosette got her bottle of water off of the cash register and took a swig. "He's actually the one that suggested I invite you," she shrugged.

Straightening up, Eponine pondered this. She had always wondered why Mr. Fauchelevent liked her. Her dad had fostered Cosette when they were about five, although Eponine never knew why. One day, he had simply shown up with a check, laid it down, and said that he was taking Cosette away. After a little bartering from her father, an abused Cosette had walked out the door hand in hand with him, with one backward glance at Eponine. When they had met again in high school, Mr. Fauchelevent seemed to remember her clearly, and she could sense that he knew that her dad had turned to alcohol and a belt for a whip. Even though her too-small, secondhand clothes had seemed so out of place in their mansion of a house, he had practically taken Eponine under his wing like he had adopted her as well. Four years later, and he had even offered to pay for her college education, which Eponine had firmly refused. She had gotten enough scholarships and worked enough jobs to pay for the nearby college that Cosette was also attending.

Sometimes Eponine wondered how any person had enough money to pay for two college tuitions at once, but she never dared to ask. She had always assumed it was inheritance, partnered with the fact that he was head of some big company.

"Well, then yeah, I'll go. What time?" Eponine answered.

Cosette beamed, visibly happier. "Right after closing. I can drive you over."

No, I can walk, she almost said, but then she relented. "Okay, thanks," she accepted.

Cosette gave her the thumbs-up sign, then waved goodbye as she went out the back.

Eponine blew out a sigh, then grabbed her bag from behind the checkout counter and went out of the store, locking the back door behind her.

The walk back to the apartment was blissfully quiet, but Eponine slowed down when she saw a dark figure leaning against the side of her building. "Shit," she whispered under her breath. Maybe if I walk fast enough, I can just get by him without any problems…

The figure turned at her, making his blonde hair that was certainly not Montparnasse's catch in the glow of the streetlight. "Eponine!" he called out, and she relaxed ever so slightly as she recognized Enjolras.

"Hi," she said quietly, wondering why he was being so casual.

"Did Montparnasse follow you?" he asked, looking behind her.

"What? No, why would he –" she paused. "Is this about this morning?"

"You're SURE he's not here." Enjolras asked again.

Her confusion melted away, and suddenly she was a little mad. "Why?"

"Did you run into him?"

"Oh my GOD," Eponine said under her breath, trying to walk past him into the building.

He reached for her arm, but she jolted away before he could touch her. "Eponine…"

That was it. Eponine turned to him angrily. "Do you really think that I'm so helpless that I can't handle him? I've survived just fine without your little heroic jump-in, and I can sure as hell take care of myself without you."

Now Enjolras seemed confused, which was an expression that he had never worn as long as Eponine had known him. "But this morning he-"

"I KNOW what he did this morning, I was there!" she burst out. "I can do all the damsel-in-distress saving on my own, thanks very much."

Enjolras stepped towards her. "Yeah? It didn't look like you were fighting him off."

Needles. That was exactly what it felt like. Needles stabbed into her from all directions as she looked at the ground, breath catching in her lungs. Even Enjolras seemed to know it was wrong to say, because he stepped back from where he was standing a little bit. "Eponine, I-"

"And why are you always here?" Eponine spat at the ground, fists curled. "Why don't you go hang out with your friends?"

Then she looked up. "Or are they all dead?"

Her fists fell away from her sides as she saw the expression on his face: pure pain. None of it was directed at her, though, which was what killed Eponine the most. She would rather have Enjolras screaming at her than to see him like this. It was like that one sentence had drained any fire, any argument, anything but sadness away from his face.

She racked her brain for an apology, any apology. Even a simple 'I'm sorry' might have sufficed.

But Eponine's throat seemed to close in on itself, and she walked quickly to the door of the apartments, running furiously up the staircase, except she was furious with herself. Once in the safety of her room, she threw herself onto the bed and repeatedly tore at a pillow, eventually throwing it across the room. She had to do something, anything.

Anything that could make her forget that pain he felt.

Sorry that this took forever, but my computer was at the repair place being de-bugged and they accidentally removed Microsoft Word, so I couldn't write for a while. Please R/R!