A/N: I hope this chapter is not too confusing. I switched between perspectives a few times. I took huge license with this chapter and ran with it like a mad woman.

. . . . . .

C'est n'est rien

Éponine had never run so hard in her life, and that was saying something. Her throat began to burn as she gulped in air. She began to slow her pace in an effort to regain her breath. A roll of thunder clapped overhead.

At least, she hoped it was thunder.

The alley soon spilled onto the Rue de la Chanvrerie and she practically fell out of it. There she beheld a sea of red coats spreading out before the barricade like a pool of blood. The soldiers were fixing their bayonets. The cold steel spears winked at her like so many stars as they were put in place. If she was going to scale the barricade, it would have to be now. Éponine grasped the leg of an upended table and began her ascent. She progressed slowly and carefully, hoping the muddy brown of her coat would help her blend in.

Ten minutes later she was almost at the top when suddenly a flash of lightning illuminated her efforts.

"There's a boy climbing the barricade!"

Two shots rang out and reverberated off of the empty shops and silent townhouses.

. . . . . .

The Amis de l'ABC stood ready with their muskets to greet whoever it was who had decided to make such a rash endeavor. After Javert they were not so welcoming to more strangers just showing up to join their rebellion, with the exception of the curious snowy-haired old man who had already made a deadly demonstration of his loyalty.

Enjolras peered over the sights of his rifle into the smoke and gloom.

"Monsieur Marius!" Came the sharp whisper from the other side of the barricade, somewhere near the top. Extreme annoyance gripped Enjolras when he recognized the gamin's voice.

Damned foolish girl! Is Marius worth your life?

"Good God, 'Ponine! What are you doing? Why did you come back here? Are you hurt?"

"I don't know . . . I'm near the top, but I'm afraid to move. They saw me when the lightening flashed, but now I think I'm hidden in the dark, but if I move . . ."

"Stay still, I'm coming to get you . . ."

"No! They'll shoot you!"

Marius looked around him helplessly. The other amis gazed back at him, mirroring his look.

"Marius!"

"What is it?"

"They're coming!"

"Back to your stations!" Courfeyrac cried. The Amis scrambled into their niches in the barricade and stuck their gun barrels through the small openings.

. . . . . .

"Take aim!" Éponine heard Enjolras' cold clear voice shout. "Fire!"

Éponine clapped her hands over her ears and curled up tightly. The explosion came, the barricade shuddered and the world disappeared into smoke.

A deafening silence reigned for a moment, then came the wails and groans of the wounded. Éponine opened one eye. There were quite a few down, but there were plenty still standing and they reloaded their pieces in silence.

Suddenly, there was a light and she heard a beloved voice boom above her.

"Begone, or I'll blow up the barricade!"

"Blow up the barricade?" cried an incredulous sergeant, who was nearest Éponine. "and yourself also?"

"And myself also."

Éponine craned her neck and was just able to make out Marius' figure about six feet above her, a torch in his outstretched hand and dangerously close to a large keg of powder.

Are you mad?

The guards perceived the desperate gleam in the lovelorn man's eyes and backed away. But, many of them kept taking swift glances to their right.

Suddenly, Éponine heard a scrambling sound close by on her left. She turned her head and saw, a little below her, that a lone guardsman had inched his way up the barricade and was already taking aim at Marius. His finger was already on the trigger.

Éponine lunged forward and, grabbing the musket barrel with her left hand, pulled it down just as it discharged. The barricade responded with a volley and were answered.

"'Ponine, are you alright? Can you make it over the side? . . . 'Ponine? Hurry, as they're reloading!"

"I'm coming . . ."

. . . . . .

Éponine clumsily swung herself over the side, holding her injured hand inside her coat. Marius was still by the barrel, Enjolras, Coufeyrac and Bahorel were covering her with their carbines.

"Good God, what are you doing, 'Ponine?" He repeated. "Have you no fear? I told you not to come back . . . but, tell me, have you seen my beloved? Why have you come back here?"

Marius' voice, which normally was like music to Éponine's ears, was now hurting them.

". . . Took the letter like you said, I met her father at the door . . ."

Her head felt like it was floating away.

" . . . he said he would give it to her . . . I . . . I don't think I can stand any. . ." Éponine did not finish her sentence as the barricade seemed to take on a life of it's own and rush up to her.

Marius quickly caught her and held her as he eased both of them to the ground.

"'Ponine, are you hurt?" Hearing the alarm in Marius' voice made her feel oddly comforted. He was worried for her. "There's something wet upon your hair . . ."

Was there? All she knew was that Marius was brushing it away from her face. She leaned into his touch.

Marius' stomach clenched at the sight of her blood on his fingers. "Éponine, you are hurt, you need some help!" Marius quickly withdrew his hand to open her coat. "Oh, God! It's everywhere!"

Éponine looked down to see the blood pouring from her wounded hand, and then noticed red blossoming near her shoulder, staining her chemise. Suddenly the pain hit her. She gritted her teeth. The adrenaline from the climb mixed with fear had dulled it.

"Ce'st n'est rien, Monsieur Marius," she whispered, fighting down her own feeling of panic. "It doesn't hurt. Really."

"I'm going to get Joly," Marius moved as if to set Éponine down, but she gripped his shirtsleeves.

"No. Stay. Please."

Marius stilled, but continued to look around for Joly. Courfeyrac thought he had seen him slip into the Corinthe to set up a makeshift hospital.

Enjolras quietly stepped closer to Éponine and Marius, loath to disturb what were likely to be the girl's last moments.

What a shame . . . she won't see the new world we create tonight . . . Why didn't she stay away?

Thunder sounded again. A raindrop splashed onto Éponine's cheek and slid down like a tear. Marius let out a sound of distress and bent further over her in an effort to shield her from the rain.

"Don't you fret, Monsieur Marius . . . a little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now," she tried to chuckle, but it came out as a cough that racked her broken body. Marius held her tightly, but still she grew colder with each passing moment.

Oh, well. If death is what it took to be held like this by Marius, I'm happy. Soon, I'll be free from my hell of a life and I'll take with me such a memory . . .

"Éponine . . ." Marius' trembling voice cut into her thoughts "I'm so sorry . . . This is all my fault . . ."

The waif put a cool finger to Marius' lips, shushing him like one would a child.

"It's alright . . . Just hold me close . . . until the end."

"No! Listen to me, 'Ponine, you're going to live! You have to . . . oh, God . . ."

Marius' voice was beginning to sound to Éponine like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel.

" . . . If I could close your wounds with words of love . . ."

Love?

Those precious words cut through the haze of pain. For a moment things grew clear again.

"Monsieur . . ." she croaked, "loves me?" Some of the color that had been leaving her cheeks returned.

Marius glanced over Éponine's battered shoulder at Enjolras who was leaning on the butt of his rifle like a silent sentinel, an intensely empathetic expression etched on his handsome face. He realized what Pontmercy was doing.

Marius looked back down at Éponine, her lips were swiftly losing their color. Large tears rolled down his youthful face and splashed onto her hers. "Yes, I do," he choked out.

The largest smile Marius had ever seen appeared on Éponine's face. It was beautiful.

The gamine tightened her arms around Marius' neck and made a clearly painful effort with the last of her strength to raise her whitening lips toward his, supplicating . . .

"Marius?"

"I'm here, 'Ponine . . ."

Forgive me, Cosette.

Pontmercy leaned down and gently pressed his mouth against hers.

Éponine gave out a long satisfied sigh and surrendered herself to the darkness.

Her turn had finally come . . . and gone.

. . . . . .

"Éponine? . . . No!" Marius crushed the waif's lifeless body to him and began to rock back and forth. "I'm so sorry . . . so sorry . . ."

"She is the first to fall . . ." Enjolras said solemnly, "the first of us to fall upon this barricade."

Marius stilled his rocking and raised a tear-streaked face to his companions who had gathered around them.

"Her name was Éponine," he said hoarsely. "Her life was cold and dark, yet she was unafraid."

Combeferre knelt beside the grief-stricken baron. "We fight here in her name."

"She will not die in vain," Provaire added firmly.

"She will not be betrayed," Lesgles whispered.

Courfeyrac moved to take Éponine from Marius, but the young man seemed hesitant to let her go.

"Marius, the attack will begin soon . . ."

Enjolras also knelt beside him, and putting a hand on his shoulder, met his sad gaze firmly. "We need you, Pontmercy."

Marius nodded slowly, seeming to come back to himself. He loosened his grip on Éponine and Enjolras gently gathered the girl in his arms, grimacing at how horribly light she was.

The leader of the Amis headed toward the Corinthe, the wineshop and café that was their second headquarters. As he walked he glanced down at the poor gamine's still face illuminated by the moonlight. It reminded him of another time when he had seen her face by the same pale light. The sight of her peaceful expression filled him with grief. Pontmercy had told him a little of what the poor waif's life had been like and it was a tragic shame. Yes, it was a tragic shame that the only time this poor soul knew peace was in death.

Enjolras' passion for the freedom of France, which already knew no bounds, increased ten fold.

Suddenly, Enjolras heard a sharp gasp, like someone who had been underwater for a long time had finally broken through to the surface.

"Mar . . . ius?"

In his shock Enjolras almost dropped her.

Éponine was alive.

"Joly!" Enjolras desperately scanned the silent street. "JOLY!"

The medical student came bounding out of the wine shop.

"My apologies! I just spent all my time sanitizing the surfaces I'll be using. Who knows when Ma'am Hucheloup last gave that place a thorough cleaning? It was certainly not this past spring."

"Not now, Joly. Tend to her."

Joly peered at Eponine and his eyes widened. "Yes. Quickly!" Enjolras followed him into the Corinthe.

Joly motioned for Enjolras to place Eponine on the long sales counter. The medical student hefted his tourniquet to where she lay and set to work.

"Will she . . . ?" Enjolras ventured.

"Only God knows. But, I'll do my best,"

Enjolras lingered for a moment, then report of rifles came rumbling down the street.

Joly looked at him sharply, clear apprehension in his blue eyes. He soon smothered it with a wry grin. "Go on. Go and ravish your Patria."

Enjolras laughed. "Pour la liberté," he murmured.

"Pour la liberté." Joly said with a nod.

Enjolras left the shop and raced down the street back toward the barricade.

C'est n'est rien: It is nothing.