I don't own Les Miserables.
CHAPTER 11
We are traveling with members of the French Navy, on their way to ship out to who knows where. There are only about five and they give me and Cameron the privacy of the actual carriage and ride on top the box with their gear and guns, smoking profusely and telling apparently very funny dirty jokes. There are a total of about twenty soldiers, with two carriages. We've been traveling for a few days now, staying at inns that are a blur when I think about them now.
Cameron is a bit smothering, I don't feel bad about saying that. He is constantly watching with his stupid understanding eyes and asking me if I'm alright, if I'm hungry or thirsty, if I need to stop and use the facilities. The dress that he bought me before we left Paris is as fancy as a wedding cake compared to anything else that I've ever worn, such a pale blue, like the cloudy sky. For some reason, the lovelier it is, the more I hate it. I answer Cameron with single syllables, which worries him even more. I force him to sit across from me, for if he sat next to me, he would be bound to try and hold my hand and I don't think I could take that.
But I don't care about putting him at ease. I just rest my forehead against the icy glass and watch as my breath fogs it up. I absently trace patterns in it and dream of what my life could have been. I could've had Marius, I could've had a family who wasn't useless. I could've been happy once in my life, I could've, I could've...
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Cameron, asleep, exhausted by his hovering over me. His curls bounce to the movement of the carriage gently. His face is like a young boy's when he sleeps, no cares, no worries, no responsibilities.
And then I realize, that's the reason he's so close to my heart. All his cares, all his worrying, all his compassion, this is what has won him a place next to my heart. This is what makes him so special.
This is what makes me love him. And I wouldn't want him any other way.
I think of Marius, trying to view him as objectively as possible. In reality, he never cared for me. He used me when it was convenient for him, but there was no caring, no fondness, no love.
In a moment of stupidity, I reach over and clasp his gloved hand. He stirs in his sleep and his half-opened eyes rest on our hands, joined together. He smiles faintly.
Suddenly, there is a loud pop and cracking wood. I pull back my hand instantly, holding it over my heart, feeling the throb of my old wound. I know that sound. It's the sound of a gunshot.
The carriage jerks to a halt. I hear the soldiers shouting, getting their weapons at the ready. More gunshots go off and one soldier falls over the side, crashing to the ground, motionless. I gasp, feeling my heart beat race.
"Stay here." Cameron is fully awake now, his eyes full of dread. I grab his shoulder as he tries to open the door.
"Don't." I plead. "Please, don't. Don't do this, please, you'll die, you'll die, please don't I..." Cameron takes my hands in his, his eyes showing that, like always, he knows what I really mean.
"Eponine," My name sounds so sweet, so much realer with his voice. Why did it take till now for me to realize this? "I promise. I won't be like Marius. I'll come back. I'll always come back." He cups my face and we're leaning into each other, so easy, so natural...
An explosion shakes the earth and everything is spinning and everything is smoke and dust and I can't breathe, something is on me, what's on me, I can't-
It's Cameron, his face suddenly streaked with black powder and his eyes frantic. The carriage has been pushed over, the sound of shouts and guns deafening. Cameron pushed open the door, now directly above us, and sticks his head out.
"God help us..." I hear him murmur.
"What? What is it?"
Cameron pulls his head back in. "It's your father and the gang."
We're dead.
"How many?" I ask, breathless.
"Too many for us to handle." He says wearily. "More than I'd ever seen with him."
"My father has many connections." I say simply. Death is looking at me and I let him. Suddenly, Cameron's arms are pulling me up and I slump against them, they're so strong and nice and I wanna die in them, I really could.
"You have to run." Cameron is saying. "You have to run and get help. We can't be that far from some town, but you have to run. I don't think they'll notice you, the soldiers have them pretty preoccupied. But you have to run, Eponine. Eponine, Eponine, please, love, please, you have to run, you have to live, do you hear me?" He's shaking me, shaking me so hard I might be in pain.
"I don't wanna leave you." I say dumbly, gripping his arms tightly.
"You won't be." He says matter of factly. "You'll always be with me." In a messy blur, he kisses me hard on the lips, pressing against me so hard that I think I might burst. It's all over too soon and his head is against mine and he's saying, "Run fast, my love. We'll be back together soon."
And then he's helping me out of the carriage and outside is all bullets and screams and gray and barricades and horses and dead men and shouting and I see Marius, I see him holding out his hand and I almost take it, but Cameron's are much more real and they're pushing me and yelling run, run, run, Eponine, get help, go, go, my love, go!
And I'm running, running so fast, my ratty hair trailing behind me, this stupid dress tangling up in my legs and the ground is so unforgiving and I follow the road, I have to follow the road, I have to get help. And no one follows, no one follows and I'm running so hard and so fast and so long that I think I've already started on the trip to dying, I really have.
There comes a time where the light is so dim that I can't see the road. Where did the sun go? I look around and I'm surrounded by empty lands, all of them so dark and so lonely. It's cold, I realize that now. I pull my arms into my chest, shivering. I look up into the sky. It's dark, no color. It's starting to snow. I try to cry but I can't. I try to scream but there's no sound.
I think about going back, I have to go back, but I don't know where back is. I simply start walking, slow and unsteady. For hours, days, years, lifetimes, I am walking. Finally, my legs are shaking and I can't feel my feet or my arms and everything is dying and I fall down, but I fall onto stone and I thin about how nice and icy and unforgiving the stone is, because if it was forgiving, there would be hope and there's no hope for me now, there's none.
Before I fade into the dark, I feel hands touching me and lifting me away. Is that you Marius? I ask. But I see Cameron instead and I smile, holding my arms out to him.
