It had been almost a week since the battle. Eponine was freed from the hospital only two days after she'd been admitted, much to her pleasure. She spent most of her days walking about in the crisp summer air with Gavroche bopping alongside her. In the evenings she left to visit Marius at his home and drop off Gavroche, for he was staying with Marius until Eponine could find some more permanent lodgings for him.
It was now that she knocked upon the door to Marius' flat, as was her routine, that she sensed something different about this night. The door opened, and from behind it appeared a young woman with a mass of golden blonde hair.
"Eponine!" Cosette flung herself at Eponine in an embrace, which Eponine returned, shocked.
When she pulled back, Cosette took hold of Eponine's wrists and pulled her into the apartment eagerly, her round eyes shining with tears. "Oh, and Gavroche!" Her arms wrapped around the gamin's head and pulled him into her stomach.
"Cosette, it's good to see you." Eponine mumbled meekly.
"Oh, Eponine, I'm so pleased to see you! I'm so pleased you're alive and well! When Marius first introduced me to you, I was ever so rude, oh 'Ponine, you must forgive me!" Eponine shook her head and opened her mouth to assure her that it was all right, but Cosette continued quickly, blubbering, "I was so rude, because I knew you fancied my Marius, and he always speaks so highly of you, and you were much prettier than I'd expected, and oh…" She sniffled. "I swear to you, I've never had a more selfish moment in my life. Then I'd heard you'd been hurt and I couldn't stand myself, I was so worried. Oh, Eponine, please find it in your heart to forgive me?"
Eponine chuckled sweetly. "Not to worry, Cosette. All's well that ends well." She smiled at the girl, the sincerity of her apology making it impossible for her to hold distain for her any longer.
Marius entered the room. "Cosette, what are you going on about? I told you 'Ponine would forgive you." He smirked kindly at the blonde.
"Oh, be quiet Marius. Go pull together some chairs so we can sit about and talk, make yourself useful." Cosette tossed back.
"Always the bossy one," Marius jested. "Would we rather sit on the balcony? It is a beautiful night, after all. I venture to say we won't have many more to come, as fall sets in."
The four of them sat outside, looking up at the night sky, teeming with stars.
"I heard once that if you make a wish on the first star you see at night, your wish will come true." said Gavroche, tracing the constellations above him with his eyes.
"My pop used to tell me that stars hold a magical quality that goes back thousands of years, and all you have to do is close your eyes as tight as you can, looking up at the sky, and count to ten. Once you get to ten, you open your eyes and make a wish on the first star you land on, and it'll come true." Marius said quietly.
"I wanna try that!" Gavroche squeezed his eyes shut, counted aloud to ten and popped open his eyes enthusiastically.
"What'd you wish for?" Cosette asked.
"A miracle." He replied simply.
"What kind of miracle?"
"Just any kind. I'm not picky."
Eponine stared in admiration at her brother. He had his head in the right place.
"Well, I ought to be leaving." Cosette announced, yawning.
"Ah! Me too. I thought I might pay a visit to Monsieur Enjolras in the hospital before I retired." Eponine stretched before she stood, unaware of the inquisitive look she was getting from Marius.
"Would you like me to accompany you? It's on my way." Cosette offered.
"That…" Eponine looked unsurely at Marius. He nodded encouragingly. "Would be lovely. Thank you, Cosette." She beamed genuinely.
Gavroche ohh-ed like teasing children on the playground do. His voice took on a falsetto as he tried to imitate Eponine. "Monsieur Enjolras, oh, how handsome you are! I love you so much and I want to marry you. Kiss me!" He made kissing noises as Cosette attempted to hide her smirk behind her hand. Marius, however, grinned openly at Gavroche.
Eponine bit her lip as she herself fought back a smile. She shoved her palm into Gavroche's face and told him to shut it.
"I don't mean to be forward, as we've just met—well, sort of—but do you? Fancy Enjolras, that is." Cosette asked Eponine as they walked alone down the dark streets of Paris.
"What? That's ridiculous." Eponine laughed, but it was very forced.
"Ridiculous it may be, but that is unrelated as to whether or not it is true." Cosette pressed on cleverly.
"Enjolras is my very dear friend." Eponine said, with a finality that caused Cosette to drop the discussion. However, Eponine could not stop the thoughts that flooded to her head, reminders of the thing that single-handedly occupied her brain. As they approached the hospital, she rubbed her tired eyes, yet another reminder—she had not been able to sleep much as of late, for one big reason.
"Hello, Enjolras." Eponine greeted, announcing her and Cosette's presence.
He looked to the door, startled. "Hello," The girls entered. "Cosette," He bowed his head very courteously. "Eponine." He smiled gently at her, more depth behind his greeting to her than his to Cosette. He sighed unevenly, his heart at unrest.
This had been the first time they'd spoken since they'd been in the hospital together and she'd asked him about Marius. She looked at him anxiously.
I do not feel that way for Marius any longer. She'd realized the truth in these words earlier that evening, when she had first started getting to know Cosette, and Cosette and Marius as a couple. She'd seen that they were truly meant for each other, and she'd begun to care for Cosette as a friend, enough so that she didn't want to care for the man Cosette loved.
Now she stood there, looking at Enjolras. For some reason, she wanted him to know this truth. She felt it necessary that he know that she no longer cared for Marius. Enjolras needed to know that. She needed to communicate that to him.
Cosette, very intuitive and sensing the tension between the two decided that she had better leave them alone to sort that out.
"Well, Monsieur, I hope you'll pardon the brevity of my visit, but I must be getting home. I am glad to see you are recovering," She smiled and turned to the brunette. "Eponine, can I see you tomorrow? We have much catching up to do." Eponine nodded silently and Cosette winked cheerfully, exiting the hospital room, leaving Eponine and Enjolras alone.
"I'm surprised to see you two together. You haven't gone off on her in a jealous rage yet, I hope?" Enjolras stared at Eponine intently, asking a different question with his eyes.
Eponine raised her eyebrows innocently and looked to the floor. "Cosette is a good person. I've found her to be very sweet and caring. If Marius chooses to love her, good for him. I hope she teaches him her kind ways."
Enjolras raised one eyebrow suspiciously. "You cannot mean that."
Eponine looked straight at him. "I do. From today onward, I will never care for Marius more than as a friend."
Barely-hidden satisfaction crossed his face, along with a look of skepticism. "I don't believe you."
"Well, I guess you'll just have to see for yourself."
"But if not pining after Marius, how will you spend all of your time now?" He teased.
"Pining after you, obviously." She rolled her eyes sarcastically.
"I could think of no better way for one to spend her time." He tilted his head and looked at her, a goofy smile lighting his striking features. His deep brown eyes seared into hers, and she had to blink and look away to regain her train of thought.
"So how are you feeling, Monsieur?" Eponine curtsied playfully before him, pushing a wooden rocking chair next to his bed and perching atop it.
"Well, Mademoiselle, I am much improved from when you last saw me. Thank you for asking." He bowed his head graciously, returning her playful politeness.
They chatted for a good part of the hour, until finally they ran out of weather patterns and petty gossip to discuss.
There was a silence in the room now, allowing the breeze outside to be heard swirling through a crack in the window.
"So 'Ponine, tell me about yourself. Something I don't know already." Enjolras moved to sit up straighter in his bed, giving Eponine his full attention.
Eponine had been so caught up in her own private musings that for some reason, this spilled out of her: "When I was much littler, my father used to call me Epona."
His eyes perused her face curiously for several moments as it dawned on her what she'd just said. She grimaced slightly at herself.
"Epona. I like that. Are you close with your father?"
"I was. Of course you, along with everyone in this city, know my parents and the people they've become. But when I was a little girl, hardly four or five, papa was my idol." Eponine breathed a burdened sigh. It was difficult to talk about her father, a man she'd loved dearly in her youth. "He'd take me out all the time, we'd go to the park and play. I wanted to be just like him. Until I learned the sort of man he was. I grew older and we had less and less in common, and bringing in money became more difficult. He got sour and began to despise anything that didn't have monetary value." She stated this very matter-of-factly, as the emotions attached to this information were stored in a box somewhere else, a box that she refused to open.
Enjolras pondered this for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Eponine shook her head. It didn't matter anymore. "I probably ought to be heading back home. It's very late." Eponine stood to go.
"Alone? On the streets of Paris at night?" They both looked to the window. It was very dark out now. It must've been past midnight.
"I can take care of myself, rest assured." said Eponine firmly. He nodded, not wanting to irritate her by making her feel inferior. She smoothed her skirt slowly, delaying her departure. She took a step toward the door.
"'Ponine, wait," She turned around to look at him. He held out his hand. She placed hers in it, cocking an eyebrow. "My best friend." he said, before bending his head to kiss her hand lightly. Then he winked.
She withdrew her hand and tousled his hair, laughing amiably. "Goodnight, mon ami."
As she stepped out of the hospital, she immediately wrapped her arms around her, protecting herself from the cool night air and the rush of emotions that threatened to envelop her. Inevitably, she failed to hold back either. Goosebumps ran up her arms and she bit her lip to futilely hold back the grin that was forming on her face.
"What's got you looking so happy?"
Eponine jumped. She swirled around, looking for the owner of that voice. A man stepped out of the shadows.
"Hello darling."
"Montparnasse." Eponine's heart sped up nervously. He gave her a foolishly arrogant look as he squinted at her through heavy-lidded eyes. It was clear he'd been drinking.
"What's a little girl like you doing out so late? Shouldn't you be home? Or snuggled up to that lover boy of yours?"
"Leave me alone, 'Parnasse." She turned away, attempting to look confident and unafraid.
He caught her by the crook of her elbow. "I can take care of you, you know. I could really care for you if you let me." He traced a finger down her forearm.
She tried to steady herself and ignore the gesture. Do not get caught up in his lies. You've gone down this path before, Eponine. "Is that what you were doing when you sliced my hand? Taking care of me?" She threw back, flashing her healing scar at him.
Several weeks back they'd been arguing, which was nothing out of the ordinary. However, Montparnasse, being drunk at the time, pulled a shard of broken glass on Eponine. When she foolishly tried to take it from him, he cut her hand with it.
He smiled cunningly. "Yes," Eponine rolled her eyes irritably. "What ever 'appened to us, 'Ponine? Hmm? We used to be…" he slid his hand down and hooked it on her waist. His face drew nearer to hers, bringing on the stink of alcohol. "…so close." He spoke hardly above a whisper now.
She tried shoving him away. "Montparnasse. Stop it." She looked into his eyes fearlessly, hating him. He met her gaze with equal daring. She felt her resolve begin to crumble. She had, at one time, cared for him greatly. Underneath the layers of dirt and grime, he was a good, admittedly handsome man.
"Come on, Eponine. Just like old times. I can take care of you better than any of those prissy students you hang around with. That boy, Mare-uss or whatever his name is, he's above you. You know that. He knows that. It will never work because he's better'n you."
Her jaw tightened and her hatred for him grew. "Close your mouth before you really say something you'll regret, you bastard." Eponine warned maliciously.
He just chuckled under his breath and wrapped his arms further around her waist. She struggled and began to beat her fists against his chest. He continued on, unfazed.
"You think I don't, 'Ponine, but I know you. You like to feel equal. You hate feeling inferior. You despise the fact that those boys go to school. That they'll do more with their lives because they know more than you. They'll probably do great things, become politicians maybe, but all you'll ever be is the little Jondrette girl, whose rich friends left behind in the slums of Paris, pushed into to marrying someone she doesn't love and forced into prostitution or thievery to put bread on the table for her illiterate children, walking the streets every day knowing people are judging her, the stupid poor girl who couldn't do any better for herself because that's the life she was born into."
Eponine started at him hatefully. "Goddamn you. Goddamn it that's true. I will never live the life you describe. Oh God, I abhor you." She beat and clawed at him now, but still he did not release her.
He moved his hands up and held her face in them. Quickly, she swung her knee up and hit him square in the groin. Doubling over, he let out a fierce groan. She spat on him and stormed off. Through clenched teeth, he roared angrily.
"You little bitch!" He ran to her. He caught her by surprise, as she had assumed she'd have time to escape while he recovered from the hit. She turned and looked at him, fuming.
SMACK! In slow motion, she saw his big, rough hand make a graceful arc through the air. She cowered fearfully and tried to get out of the way, but he was too quick. His hand made contact with her cheek, and immediately she staggered backwards and pressed her hands to her face, staring up at him with glassy eyes filled with terror.
He stared back, his face now holding the sheepish, terrified look of a young child who knew he'd gone too far. "Eponine…" He spoke very slowly. "I did not mean…Eponine I'm sorry."
Eponine just continued to look at him. Footsteps hurried toward them. A man moved himself in front of Eponine protectively. "Sir, I insist that you leave, before I or a proper authority has to inflict damage upon you."
Montparnasse did not break from looking fearfully at Eponine. "'Ponine. Please, I'm—"
"Sir."
Montparnasse turned around and walked away, glancing over his shoulder sadly. The man turned now to Eponine. "Are you alright? Oh, what am I asking, of course you're not!"
"Combeferre!" Eponine sighed gratefully. He put a hand to her cheek ever-so-delicately and whistled impressively.
"Already swelling. Probably bruising as well. Come, I'll take you inside. Convenient, eh?" said Combeferre, indicating the hospital.
Eponine shook her head, a jumble of thoughts all hitting her at once. "No! Urm…" She looked from him to the hospital. "I'll be fine. Um, are you going to see Enjolras?"
He chuckled at her apparent confusion. "I am, actually. Thought I'd see how he's faring."
"I'm going to go home. But monsieur, please, please don't tell Enjolras of what just happened." she begged.
He frowned. "Why not?"
"Just please don't. I do not want him knowing about this. Please, as my friend, don't tell him."
"You have my word, mademoiselle." He agreed, not entirely sure why he could not tell Enjolras, although he had some ideas. "Would you like an escort home?"
"No, I'll be alright."
"But if he comes back for you…"
"He won't. I know Montparnasse, he'll go off sulking and I won't see hide nor hair of him for days. Then he'll be back on his next pain in the ass thing." She chuckled quietly.
"If you insist. But I promise, if I hear that he's bothered you again this evening, I will never forgive you, or myself." He smiled good-naturedly.
"Understood." She returned his smile, however, the moment she turned around to go, it dropped from her face. Tears dripped down her nose as she walked home in the dark. She thought about what had transpired.
Enjolras can't know. That much she was sure of. He could know nothing of Montparnasse. That was a part of her past she didn't need leaking into her present. She still was not sure exactly what her feelings for Enjolras were, and why they seemed to have come on so quickly, but she knew that, best friend or something more, she didn't want Enjolras to know of the past that ashamed her so much.
As she walked, another thought teased and taunted her. When she finally acknowledged it, it chilled her to her very core. She hated that she was even thinking it, she hated that it were even a possibility, and hated even more that it was a probability.
What if Montparnasse is right?