A/N: ...hello...if you haven't ditched this fic in the month and a half it's been left...wouldn't blame you if you had...
Writers block took over, then I got pre-occupied with a couple of other fics, then came back to this and realised I was fresh out of ideas. Also I'm on holiday at the moment and the wifi is bloody awful. As in takes-three-minutes-to-load-a-single-page awful. It's taken me twelve attempts just to upload the doc for this chapter. GAH. Tried to make this as long as possible to hopefully make up for the huge delay!
Éponine started fiddling with the tablecloth, wondering why Marius was taking so long. He was an efficient person by nature, so why it had taken him ten minutes to get some drinks was a mystery to her. Perhaps there was a queue, or a high demand? She wasn't sure.
Giving up with the tablecloth, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh, making patterns in the texture of the ceiling whilst she waited. It reminded her of cupcakes, the same pattern over and over again. From another angle, they looked like hats and fans. Hmm.
Meanwhile, Marius was just casually talking with his supposedly dead friend. Hmm indeed.
Grantaire, it seemed, had actually been saved by his drunken antics. In a stupor, he'd fallen in to a wardrobe on the barricade, been shut in, and somebody had found him before it was all burned. How he'd survived he did not know, he'd been in there a day and a night, if not longer. The woman who found him had almost had a heart attack, thinking he was dead before realising he was simply unconscious.
Unlike Éponine, he'd had no need of a hospital, as apart from a nasty scratch gained early on in the fight, he had no real injuries. That came as a surprise, as he'd fought hard those first couple of days. It was on the third and final day of the battle he'd returned to his alcohol, and ended up safe, though feeling exceptionally guilty, becoming even more withdrawn than he had before.
Marius had found him working at the bar, having decided to be useful. He had been an unmotivated and slightly cynical person before, at least where the beliefs of the Amis were concerned, but he seemed to have had the life drained out of him. Marius strongly suspected it was because of Enjolras' death, it wasn't exactly hidden that he'd rather liked him.
Although, Marius was still completely blind to Éponine's clear adoration of him, so he couldn't judge.
"So" Marius said to his friend, after they'd spoken for a while. "What've you been doing?"
"Serving at a bar, clearly."
He sighed. "I meant before that, where are you living?"
"'Ad to move back in with my mum. She weren't too pleased, and neither am I, but she's glad to see me alive."
"I would hope so too."
"So, any other survivors?"
"None that I know of, apart from Éponine. Oh, that reminds me, she's here too. I'll go and get her."
Grantaire nodded, taking another swig of beer as Marius disappeared back to the table.
"Éponine!" he called, grabbing the girls attention. "Oh, I was wondering where you'd be-what is it?"
His eyes were shining, and he was slightly out of breath. Fitness was not one of Marius' strong points. "Grantaire."
"What about him?" Éponine asked, doing her best to block all thoughts of the barricade at the mention of that one name. "What is it?"
"He's here. He's alive."
"You sure?"
"Well, I've just had a conversation with him, so I'm pretty sure he's alive."
She stood up, gripping Marius' arm. "Well, don't hang about, take me to him!"
He nodded, grinning like a schoolboy. He took hold of her hand, failing to notice the way the young girl's eyes widened, and led her back through to the bar, where Grantaire was still sitting.
"You just don't go away, do you?" Grantaire joked. It was true, the two of them had shared many a drink over their unrequited love lives, and had become rather good friends in their shared sorrow, each time she'd been at the Musain with Marius, they'd always exchange a few words, a greeting if nothing else.
"Good to see you too, R" Éponine replied. The two smiled at each other, Éponine perching on a stool next to Marius. "Working now, are we? Didn't picture you anywhere where there was no drinking on the job."
He shrugged. "Get a discount on beer here. Plus, manager don't show up 'til six in the evening, so I can turn up with a hangover and he ain't none the wiser."
She nodded. "Not bad. How've you been?"
"Alright, mostly. Yourself?"
"Two months in hospital and apparently mad, but okay."
Marius cut in. "Not mad. Just a little...confused, sometimes."
Éponine turned to Grantaire, having rolled her eyes at Marius. "He refuses to believe it, but it's true. I don't know what's wrong exactly, something to do with flashbacks and zoning out I think."
Grantaire nodded. "Had an aunt like that. Can't remember what set 'er off, though. Just remember the flashback bit."
The three fell in to silence, Éponine stealing a sip of Marius' lemonade. She knew she was pushing her luck where he was concerned, but who cared? He didn't seem to mind and Cosette was out of the country. Her father hadn't turned up, and Montparnasse hadn't been seen.
Montparnasse. That man still haunted her nightmares. It was true, they'd once been in a (rather strained) relationship, but he hadn't wanted her love. He'd wanted her body and nothing else. Even Marius didn't know what he did, and she wasn't planning to tell him. Hopefully he was behind bars, though she knew that was rather wishful thinking.
Shaking her head, as if to rid it of the dark thoughts, she turned her attention back to the men. Grantaire downed the rest of his beer and stood up. "Well, I gotta get back to work. Drop in every now and then."
Marius nodded, shaking his hand. Éponine did the same before they headed back to their original table, to find two menus had been placed.
"Can you read it?"
Éponine looked insulted. "Of course I can read. I read some of your papers, easy" she said a little sharply.
"Sorry. I didn't mean-"
"It's okay. I know not many of us in the slums can read and write, so I guess you shouldn't expect me to either. I can do both, not that well, but I can."
He nodded. "So, what would you like?"
"Give me a minute, Monsieur" she said with a smile, which he returned. She couldn't deny her heart sped up a little as he did, looking down at her menu to hide the inevitable blush.
"Might I have the chicken? With potato and cheese?"
"Of course you can. I think I'll go for salmon myself. Sure?"
"Sure."
They summoned a waiter, and, having placed their orders, began talking again. "So, 'Ponine. Do you have anywhere to go?"
She shook her head. "Not going back to my father, that's for sure. Don't worry about me, Monsieur, I can find a tree or a hayloft."
"Don't be daft, you can stay with me."
She looked at him, confusion evident on her gaunt features. "Why would you want me in your flat?"
"Because you're my best friend, and I don't want you having to live on the streets. Please?"
"If you're sure, I guess."
"I am. And please call me Marius."
She grinned at him. It didn't take long for their food to arrive, and her eyes widened at the size of the meal. "It's huge!" she said, looking at her plate. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but it really is huge."
"If you can't eat it all then it's fine. You don't have to."
She nodded, looking at his hands for help figuring out how to properly use her cutlery. Noting he was holding the fork in his left hand, she did the same, being sure to place a napkin on her lap first, as he did. She soon dug in to her meal, and felt as if she were in heaven. Here she was, Éponine Thénardier, thief and street rat, sharing dinner with Marius Pontmercy in a fairly high class establishment, and going to stay at his flat that evening. The food was the best she'd ever tasted, and she was having to fight not to just inhale her plate there and then.
Marius was watching her with an expression of fondness, beginning to eat his own meal. He was glad she enjoyed the food, having tasted some of the hospital food himself and realising she wasn't lying when she said it was disgusting.
About an hour later, she was stuffed, having never felt so full in years. Marius asked for the bill, which he paid, and then suggested a walk by the Seine in order to let their food digest properly. Éponine immediately obliged, eager to see more of the sights she'd so nearly forgotten. Bidding a goodbye to Grantaire, and promising to visit him again, they set off.
It was cold out, and the rushing, icy waters below did not help. Nevertheless the walk was pleasant, the two of them conversing about the days events. Éponine began shivering at one point, having changed back in to her street clothes, and to her surprise, Marius took his jacket off and placed it gently around her thin shoulders.
It smells like you, she thought, wrapping it around herself gratefully. She'd always liked Marius' smell. He was clean, and, well, homely, in a sense. In the few times she'd visited his flat, it had felt a lot more like home than her actual home. She always felt peaceful there, happy there, and above all, safe. Safe from her father, safe from his gang, safe from harm, a feeling that didn't come to her often.
They stayed by the river for at least an hour, and it was beginning to get dark, the moon having risen and reflecting off the water. Marius suggested they head to his rooms, to which she also agreed, starting to shiver again despite his coat.
They took extra caution when passing the Thénardier rooms. Even if Monsieur Thénardier wasn't there, it wasn't worth the risk, and they silently slipped through the door to Marius' flat.
She looked around in awe. His bed stood in the corner, by the window, and a desk opposite. The desk was littered with various books and papers, all strewn about and overlapping. A pen lay on the windowsill, and an area he'd sectioned off with a screen served as his kitchen and a large cupboard he'd turned in to bathroom, giving the impression of three rooms rather than two and making the flat seem bigger. He could decorate, that was for sure.
"I think we should sleep now. It's almost eleven."
Éponine nodded, wondering where the time had gone. Marius changed in to his night things whilst she averted her eyes, and when she opened them again, he was holding out an oversized undershirt.
"Here. A makeshift nightdress" he said with a smile. She returned it happily, gesturing for him to turn around as she put it on. Falling to her knees, it showed more leg than Society would have accepted, but she didn't give a damn about Society and their silly expectations so supposed it didn't matter. Marius took her clothes from her gently, folding them and placing them on top of his. She couldn't help loving the attention he paid to her rags, the fact that even when they were so tattered and torn, he still felt the need to fold them properly to avoid creases.
Slipping in to the bed next to him, she turned to face him. "Thank you. For today. For the hospital. For helping me with my little...turn, earlier. For everything, really."
He leaned forwards and kissed her forehead gently. "Any time, 'Ponine. You'll get better, I promise" he said shuffling closer to her and draping an arm around her waist. "Goodnight, Marius" she said quietly, deciding to take a risk and burying her head in his chest, going so far as to let one of her scrawny calves slip between his. He didn't seem to mind, bringing his other arm to rest softly between her shoulder blades, whispering a goodnight as the two fell in to a peaceful and undisturbed slumber.