A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! I've written ahead, so I think I can officially resume my Monday-Wednesday-Friday updating schedule. Also, I do admit that the better part of this story is dull and depressing and I'm very sorry for that. We're about to speed things up, though.
Trigger warning: gun violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter Ten: The Big Bang
.::.
March 21st; San Antonio, Texas.
.::.
They'd fallen into the habit of sleeping together. Not sleeping sleeping together, but simple, innocent sleeping together. Jason would wait until Gavroche was in his room for the evening to trek down to Éponine's room and take his place on the far end of her bed. She'd insisted that he stay as far away from her as possible; she called it a precaution. But still, Jason always spent the night in her room, waking up whenever she had one of her nightmares, only to calm her right back to sleep; by dawn, he was gone.
One particular night, after Gavroche had supposedly fallen asleep (though Éponine could see the light of his TV from underneath the door), Jason entered Éponine's room, like usual. She stood, staring into her open closet, taking stock of what she had for the summer.
"Can I open the window? It's really nice out tonight."
"I don't care," she said, waving him away dismissively.
Jason opened her window, making a mental note to find the screen he'd taken off and put it back on again in the morning. He glanced out onto the sidewalk and then returned to the bed, taking his place on the side closest to the window. Picking up his book from the bedside table, Jason began to read, hoping Éponine would soon stop poking around in her closet. He'd had a rough day at work – broken copier, terrible meetings, disciple issues – and was eager to get some shut-eye. At last, she shut the door and flopped onto the bed, huffing.
"What?"
"I've got nothing to wear." Éponine pouted, picking at a small scab on her knee.
"Biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard." Jason sighed and rubbed his eyes, closing his book. He set it on the bedside table and turned off the light, laying down under the covers. Éponine followed suit, mumbling under her breath. She blew out a deep breath, humming in contentment.
"Now remember – " She started, holding up a finger.
"'Stay on my side.' I know, Éponine, thanks."
Éponine scoffed. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"
Jason shook his head, crossing his arms, staring up at the ceiling. The moonlight poured into the bedroom through the open window, allowing Jason a good source of light to see nearly every bit of the room, though it was dim. A slight breeze blew through once and awhile, causing the hairs on his arms to stand up.
"Nothing," he finally responded. "I feel like I'm a zip code away, though."
At this, Éponine chuckled. "Good!"
Rolling his eyes, Jason rolled onto his side, his back facing her. "Goodnight, Éponine."
"Jason, I'm sorry – "
"Goodnight."
She exhaled and whispered "Goodnight" before letting her head fall into her pillow.
.::.
March 21st; San Antonio, Texas.
.::.
Ryan muttered her address over and over, constantly reminding himself of his destination. Tennis shoe clad feet pounding into the sidewalk, he checked every house number until he finally found hers. Whistling softly, he nodded in approval, taking in the grandeur of the house as he stepped up the front porch stairs.
"Good on ya, Éponine," he whispered. Palms damp and heart racing, he poised his fist over the door, ready to knock. He dropped his hand and took a step back, shaking his head. Maybe she was happy? Maybe she wouldn't want him to show up? Maybe it was too late?
It would be pointless to come so far only to turn back merely feet away from her.
Resolutely, rooted firm in his decision, Ryan knocked on the front door.
.::.
March 21st; San Antonio, Texas.
.::.
When Éponine awoke from her nightmare, Jason was there, like always. In fact, he'd already been awake. So when she shot up in bed, chest heaving, her mouth open in a small, silent scream, he gathered her up into his arms quickly. The movement happened so fast Éponine barely had time to process it. She found herself settled in the middle of Jason's lap, his hands skimming up to rest on the back of her head. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and Éponine relaxed, her breathing returning to normal.
Often, when Éponine would wake up, Jason would comfort her with kisses. Innocent pecks on the cheek, much like the ones Éponine's grandmother had given her when she was still alive. But he began to act differently. Instead of the small pecks, he continuously planted warm, wet kisses along her jaw and her neck.
Éponine's breathing heightened and, almost without thinking, she titled her head back to give him more access. "Jason – " Her voice sounded odd, even to her – deeper, raspy, something she hadn't heard in a long time. In fact, she hadn't felt like this in a long time.
When his lips found hers, they devoured one another. Éponine's lips felt unpracticed and her limbs slightly stiff, but the feeling of Jason holding her like no one had in too long of a time was too good to pass up.
Faintly, the pair both heard the doorbell ring.
"Just forget about it," he said hastily. Gently, he pushed her back and instead of her head hitting the mattress, Éponine's skull met the foot-board with a dull thump. Éponine tore her lips from Jason's to rub her head and laugh loudly; Jason groaned and pulled apart from her completely.
When her laughter had subsided, Éponine pulled herself up onto her elbows, wiping the tears from her eyes. They stared at one another. Jason looked away first, rubbing his hands on his thighs. Éponine opened her mouth to make amends, but Jason returned to his side of the bed, burying himself beneath the covers. She sighed and did the same, though there was no way she was going to fall asleep now.
.::.
March 21st; San Antonio, Texas.
.::.
No one answered the door. Even after he rang the doorbell, Ryan was left on the front porch, looking through the front windows into the house. He crossed around the wrap-around porch, searching for any other way in.
He'd broken into someone's house before. How hard could it be to do it again?
Stepping out onto the lush, side yard, Ryan peered up toward the second story. His heart jumped in his chest when he saw the open window. He narrowed his eyes as he saw someone pass the window for a moment; it was obviously a male figure, of that Ryan was sure. Did she already have a boyfriend? Ryan doubted it. Glancing toward the side of the house, where a section of a thin white ladder had been nailed into the siding, allowing for a vine to weave its way through, Ryan knew he'd hit the jackpot. Carefully, he began his scale up the wall.
.::.
March 21st; San Antonio, Texas.
.::.
The second time Éponine woke up it was not because of her nightmares; Jason's incessant moving in and out of the bed had disturbed her. Her eyes blinked open and she yawned, squinting. Jason sat half-way up, his upper body shielding her view of the window.
"Jason, what is – "
He turned around and placed a finger to his lips. The window creaked, not of its own accord, and Éponine's heart skipped one beat too many. She leaned forward, her upper body pressing against Jason's back. The window creaked again, except louder; there was a muffled grunt as Éponine saw the outline of a hand curl over the window sill. Jason turned around and placed a sloppy kiss to her lips.
"Cover your ears," he whispered. The figure slowly grew: Éponine could see his shoulders and upper chest as he pulled himself up into the window. The moonlight behind him obscured the view of his face. A knee landed on the window sill.
Éponine shook her head and gripped Jason's arm, but he was too strong, wrenching out of her grasp to open the bedside table. Before she could blink, or warn the intruder, Jason shot off the gun. The sound echoed in the house. Gavroche woke up with a high-pitched scream. Across the street, she heard dogs begin to bark. The figured grunted and toppled into the room, sprawling out onto the floor, away from Éponine's view. Jason pointed to the door and forcefully said, "Lock that and then get back onto the bed! Now."
Éponine did as he told her, hiding her face from the moaning man on the floor. She crawled back onto the bed and grabbed a pillow to squeeze. Jason knelt onto the floor, throwing his gun to the side.
"Éponine! Éponine, open up! Did you hear that, Éponine? Please!" Gavroche's small fists pounded onto the door relentlessly and the doorknob jiggled as he tried to force it open. Éponine bit her lip, shaking her head.
"This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening," she muttered, closing her eyes tightly.
"Éponine, please, I'm scared!"
Jason looked up from the floor and locked eyes with her. "Do not open that door."
"But what if he thinks I'm – "
Jason shook his head. "Let me do my job, dammit! Do not open that door!"
Éponine nodded; the crack she'd formed in her lip began to bleed. She inched toward the edge of the bed, her curiosity over taking her. Jason hovered over the groaning man, pressing onto his chest, muttering "Hold on. Stay with me."
"Is he – "
Jason's blood covered hand flew into the air to wave her away. "Stay back!"
"Let me help you," she replied, stepping onto the carpet. The movement felt like a direct defiance to the Witness Protection Program. They'd sent Jason to help keep her safe; she should be listening to him, not ignoring him. Éponine knelt on the opposite side of the man, taking his hand in hers. She looked to Jason. "What can I do?"
Jason, his eyes in a frenzy, pointed to the wound on the man's left side, near his stomach. "Press on that," he said breathlessly. "I need to get some bandages." Before she could respond, he took her hands and pressed them into the wound; he then took off for her bathroom, throwing open every cabinet in his sight.
The man beneath her hands gasped for breath. Blood poured between Éponine's fingers, warm and thick. She tried not to think about how she could almost feel an organ. Tilting her head to the ceiling, Éponine winced, gritting her teeth.
"Éponine..."
Her name, airy and light, caught her immediate attention.
Her gut sank as her head turned toward the man on the floor. Almost too afraid to speak, she remained silent, finally seeing him in the light for the first time.
"Éponine," he drawled – a prayer, a plea.
Éponine swallowed. "Ry – Ryan?"
"Éponine." His eyes, glistening with tears, exuded joy, even in the deepest pain. "I knew – I knew I could – "
"What are you doing here?" Éponine felt her throat constrict as Ryan's face contorted in pain.
"Finding – you."
"How on earth did you find me?"
A pool of sweat formed on Ryan's forehead and over his lips and under his arms; he tried to twist, alleviate the pain, but Éponine held fast. "June – she – "
"Oh my God, Ryan," she breathed, staring at the gaping wound in his side.
From the bathroom, Jason cursed. "Fuck! There's only bath-towels in here." He rushed out and pushed Éponine away, pressing the towels into the wound. Éponine fell back, her back hitting the wall beneath the window. She lifted her hand to her mouth, smearing blood across her cheeks and chin. Disbelief coursed through her. She didn't think she would ever see Ryan again. But seeing him, on her bedroom floor, bleeding profusely, she knew just about anything was possible from then on.
"You're gonna be fine, man," Jason said, pulling his phone out from his pocket.
The pounding on the door continued as Gavroche had reduced into sobs. Barely five minutes had passed since Jason had shot off the gun.
"Éponine – " Ryan reached for her hand and Jason glanced between them as she took his hand with a sudden understanding. He cursed under his breath.
"I'm here," Éponine said, her throat choking.
"You're safe."
"Yes, of course." She grinned, stinging tears blurring her vision.
Ryan's eyes lolled and he struggled to keep his breath. "That's all – that matters."
Éponine stroked his cheek, shaking her head; a tear of her own fell onto his forehead. "No! Don't say that. You're going to be fine. Ryan, listen to me: you are gonna be – "
"You were always my best friend, Ronny, and – " Ryan's eyes snapped open and he fought for control, his limbs turning to solid lead. After a moment, he relaxed, his eyes hazed over. Jason, on the phone with the head of the Program, sighed, rubbing his chin.
Éponine shook her head, the tears falling freely. She slowly lowered his eyelids. Sobs racked her small frame, but refused to make themselves known through her voice. She pressed her ear against his chest, listening for any tiny sign of life. There was none. She straightened and grabbed his shoulder, shaking it gently.
"Wake up," she whispered.
"Babe," Jason scooted to her side, but Éponine swatted him away. He backed away slowly.
Éponine bent over Ryan's prone body and finally released an ear-piercing scream.
Gavroche began to kick the door with his foot, yelling at the top of his lungs to open the door. Jason spoke rapidly into the phone about protocol. Next door, the neighbors turned on their bedroom light, awakened by all the commotion.
Jason hung up, moving to stand near Éponine's still form. She glanced up, scowling. Though deep in her heart, Éponine knew Jason couldn't have had any of idea of who it was crawling through the window, she lashed out, standing up only to throw herself at him, clawing at whatever skin she could find. Jason fought back until he had her pinned up against the wall by her wrists. Éponine struggled, kicking at his shins. She shook her head, screaming and crying and cursing.
"It was an accident, Éponine! I had no idea that it was Ryan! You know that!"
Éponine sobbed, trying to break her wrists free. "You still killed him."
"I was only trying to wound him, not kill him!" Jason let go of her wrists and she sunk to the floor, fisting her hands in the carpet. Jason sat down by her side, glancing at the blood that covered his fingers. "I'm so sorry..."
Éponine shook her head, looking away.
After a long pause, Jason stood up. "I suggest you begin packing your things. We'll be out of here by tomorrow afternoon."
Before you start hurling things at me, here me out: This has been planned since the beginning. And hate me if you want, but Ryan's death was not for nothing. Trust me.
Tell me how you're feeling!
Jess