Chapter Ten-

Enjolras lay in his bed at home, staring blankly at the ceiling above him. A doctor had been by last and tended to his wounds, and put him on a high-carb diet to gain back weight. He was underfed and dehydrated, to the point where he was slightly delusional. He fumbled for the glass of water on his bed stand and drank, letting the water run down his chin and chest, until it was soaked up under the sheets.

What now? He thought, his gaze focusing on a crack in the ceiling. He was in no state to get up and begin wandering the streets again, but that would soon change. And what then? Would he just march up to Evangeline's house and demand to see her? His father was furious at Barras for doing this to him, and he wanted to sue.

There was a knock on the door, and Enjolras grunted a, "Come in." It was his father, who walked in slowly, carrying a briefcase. Monsieur Abaissé sat down carefully on Enjolras' bed. "Enjolras," He said quietly, and Enjolras turned his head.

"Yes?"

"I have the papers and the lawyers ready. Do you want to sue Barras?" Enjolras closed his eyes tightly.

"No," He mumbled, turning over onto his stomach. Abaissé flinched, staring uncomfortably at the scars on his son's back. In prison, they'd become infected, and the doctor had been busy last night drawing the disease out. He'd had to reopen the wounds to do this, and Abaissé had been in the other room, unable to watch. Occasionally, he had heard Enjolras cry out in pain, and it was like a knife in his own heart. He wanted Barras to pay with everything he had, after what he had done to his son, his only heir.

"Enjolras, he was responsible for what they did to you in that...that hell. How could you possibly not want to make him pay?" Abaissé cried.

"Because then Evangeline would suffer for it. And I can't hurt her any more than I already have," Enjolras muttered into the pillow. His father sighed, and stood up.

"Your sacrifice and your suffering is noble," He touched his son's shoulder, avoiding the gash that snaked up to the base of his skull. "Make sure it's for the right reasons."

"Okay," Enjolras mumbled, and as Abaissé reached the door, he turned around.

"And Enjolras, please put on some clothes and clean yourself," He frowned. "There will be people visiting today, and they would not take kindly to seeing my naked son lying on his bed, doing nothing."

"Thierry?" Evangeline looked up from her sketch in the park when she thought that she saw a familiar head of dark hair pass by. She set down her charcoals and stood up, leaving the half finished picture where it was. "Thierry! Monsieur Babineaux!" She ran up to his side and he froze, looking almost frightened when he saw her.

"Mademoiselle, I-"

"I wanted to apologize," She blurted out. "About yesterday, and about everything. I should have told you, and I was leading you on. And I'm really, really sorry."

"Who was he?" Thierry said in a very small voice. "How do you know him?"

"We met this January, and-" Evangeline couldn't finish when she saw Thierry's expression. He looked so hurt, so sad, that she couldn't say that she loved Enjolras instead. "Thierry, I'm not good enough for you. What you want from me, I can't give." Evangeline closed her eyes and bowed her head. "Don't waste your time, Monsieur, not on me."

She turned to leave, but Thierry reached out and took her hand, holding her back. "Evangeline, my time is never wasted when I am with you," His bright green eyes pleaded with hers, and she looked down.

"I should leave," Evangeline let go of Thierry's hand and walked slowly back to her easel, where she saw a little boy with his hands around her drawing, who was staring at her in a mix of fear and an instinct to run. "Take it." Evangeline said blankly, and the boy tore off the picture and ran off into the park.

Enjolras was awake now, and partially dressed in trousers, boots and an undershirt, but not really doing much. He paced the house, but when his legs grew too tired, he was forced to sit down again. He had become obsessed with the idea of building up his strength again, his body. During his time in prison, he had thought a lot, and he had thought of Thenardier.

That night in the shipyard still hadn't left him, and he'd been tormented with flashbacks of the night in his dreams. He remembered his promise to the horrid old man as well, about making him pay for everything that he'd done to Evangeline. And now that he was free, would this not be the perfect time to destroy him?

Enjolras got up and went to the stables, using one of his father's canes to walk. He mounted a horse and took up a pistol, which he hid in his belt, and began to race towards the shipyard, which was on the opposite edge of the city. Pedestrians stopped and stared, or got out of the way when he approached. It was an unusual sight to see a respectable man barely dressed, racing through the streets.

Marius was just getting out of class, when he saw Enjolras coming up the street. Marius had heard what had happened the other day, and had been meaning to visit his friend, but had never had the time to. "Enjolras!" He shouted, running out into the street. Enjolras saw him and slowed, keeping the horse at a slow trot.

"Marius, there's not time," He looked down at his friend. "I have to kill a man."

"What?" Marius cried. "Enjolras, what are you talking about?" Suddenly, his face fell in horror. "You're not going after Barras, are you?"

"No, Thenardier," Enjolras looked distracted. "I have to go."

"Who is Thenardier? Enjolras, you're delirious."

"He hurt Evangeline!" Enjolras shouted, and several people looked over. "He hurt her, and I promised him that I'd kill him. And I have to fulfill that promise." Marius didn't know what had happened to Evangeline, but he saw his friends pain and rage.

"Take me to this Thenardier," Marius said softly, and climbed upon the horse. Enjolras rode, saying nothing, and reached the shipyard. Both dismounted, and Marius led the horse behind him. He didn't question why they were in this desolate place, with whores running around, and little bastard children squealing and chasing each other. Marius felt out of place and uncomfortable, but followed his friend regardless.

"Where is Thenardier?" Enjolras stopped a snatcher in his tracks. The man, seeing Marius, pointed and scampered off. Enjolras walked under an over-turned ship and stepped inside what was once the captain's quarters. Thenardier was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, an empty bottle of vodka clenched in his fist.

Enjolras took out the pistol and knelt by his side, pressing the barrel of the gun to Thenardier's matted hair. It would be so easy, He thought, and slowly lowered the hammer. One jerk of the finger, and he would be gone. He wouldn't hurt anyone else.

And it would be a public service, wouldn't it? To get rid of a man doing this to many other girls, no doubt. He shouldn't exist, he didn't deserve too. But something about the way he was lying there, so helpless, touched Enjolras' heart. He wouldn't kill an unsuspecting man, who had no way of fighting back. Evangeline would never want to see him again, and he couldn't live with himself. His hands shaking, he put the gun on the floor, facing away from Thenardier, and ran his sweating palms down his face, shaking slightly. "I can't," He murmured. "I just can't, Marius."

"It's okay," His friend laid a hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing." Marius picked up the gun and put the hammer back in place. "Come on, let's go home."

Sorry this one is shorter, and (I'm not really sure why it's doing this) I apologize if the spacer between Enjolras and Evangeline's perspective doesn't work. For some reason, it doesn't save, and I don't know why so if some parts seem just to jump like that, there's your answer. Thank you for everyone for continuing to read and to judybear236 as always.