A/N: So I'm making up for not updating in a while by updating really close together! It helps that part of this chapter was partially written before hand, but I digress. The point is, there's a new update! Just a brief note before you start reading, Enjolras may seem a little OOC in this chapter. The reason for that is twofold. One, this is completely different from the play, the book, and the film because neither of the characters have ever been in this situation before. Two, I like to think that Enjolras is reacting to the changes around him. His best friend is getting married, and he is realizing that he is completely on his own. Plus, the rebellion is coming up, so he is also reacting to the idea that he may die soon, and begins to appreciate things more. Next item of business, the lovely Sasha Snape is stuck in bar exam prep, so she is stuck worrying about her future instead of writing. But she assures me, she will be updating sometime in the near future. And now, on with the show!

The Best Man

Time flew by for Les Amis. Combeferre was preparing for his impending nuptials; Marius was on a constant search for his dearest Cosette; Enjolras was defying all odds as he refused to crack underneath all the pressure he was facing. He was constantly fending off threatening letters from his father while planning a revolution, all while battling his growing feelings for Eponine and attempting to ensure that the (unknowing) recipient of said feelings did not get into too much trouble as she felt the walls closing in around her. Grantaire drank, Jehan dreamed, Joly fretted, Bahorel fought, Bossuet fell, and Courfeyrac flirted. They all acted as if they could not feel the tension and pressure rising as the days leading up to their next rally dwindled away, but they could. They only needed to look at their fearless leader's face to know that their carefree days were coming to a close.

But until then, all the people involved with Les Amis were excited for Combeferre's wedding, which was set for the following day. Combeferre was busy moving back into the flat he had shared with Enjolras so that he had a place to prepare before going over to the church with Hélène. Their ceremony would be witnessed by Les Amis, Musichetta, Combeferre's parents, and Hélène's mother.

"Are you sure that it is alright that I move back in, mon ami?" Combeferre questioned Enjolras, as the blond man moved around Combeferre's old room, removing every trace of Eponine from it. From what Combeferre could see, Eponine had made herself quite at home over the past few weeks.

"Combeferre, this was part of our agreement. Besides, where else would you go? Hélène and her mother are staying at your new house tonight, are they not? And from what you told me, Hélène's mother will not allow you to spend the night there as well, due to that superstition of not seeing the bride before the wedding day. Pure ridiculousness if you ask me," Enjolras muttered as he picked up the book Eponine was reading.

"I know that, Enjolras. But I did not think about the amount of movement that would take place. Are you sure you do not want me to just sleep on the couch? I feel poorly about taking Eponine's room, and having her move into your room, and you taking the couch." Combeferre brushed his brunette hair out of his eyes as he followed Enjolras out of the bedroom.

"Combeferre, do not be dense. We are not going to make you sleep on the couch the night before your wedding. What kind of best man would I be if I did that?" Enjolras turned to grin at Combeferre, but saw that he looked troubled. "What is it, mon ami?"

"Did I put too much pressure on you, asking you to stand with me tomorrow? I know you have been busy, more so than usual, what with the revolution and Eponine. I just wanted to ensure that you were not…angry at me, I suppose." For the first time since they were children, Combeferre looked uneasy and shy in Enjolras' presence. They were both such shy children that their parents never thought they would become friends, but they had proven them wrong.

Enjolras gestured to the couch, and both men sat down. Enjolras took a moment to observe his friend. Gabriel Enjolras and François Combeferre had been friends for almost as long as Enjolras and Marius had known each other. Combeferre had always been the calm one of their little band of misfit rebels. With so many different personalities and energies, it always fell to Combeferre to keep the group together. He was the glue that held the organization together, and that was part of why Enjolras was so disapproving of Combeferre getting married when the barricade could arise at any moment. If Combeferre were to abandon the cause in order to stay with his new wife, Enjolras had no doubt that many of the other, less committed members of Les Amis would also abandon the cause. Combeferre's lack of attendance would also leave Enjolras himself feeling at a loss, though he was loath to admit it.

Enjolras sighed and looked up at his friend, who was staring at him anxiously. "Of course you did not put too much pressure on me, 'Ferre. It is an honour that you regard me as a close companion, and want me to stand with you on your wedding day. I am glad to be able to support you during this time in your life, as you have supported me and the revolution since its conception."

Combeferre smiled slightly and extended his hand towards his friend. As Enjolras grabbed it, Combeferre couldn't help saying, "I will stand with you to the end, mon ami. I appreciate you doing this for me."

Enjolras shook his hand firmly. "Of course, 'Ferre. Of course."

Eponine stood off to the side as both Avis and Musichetta moved in a swirling vortex around Hélène. Avis was pinning the bride-to-be's pale pink wedding dress while Musichetta was playing with her long black hair, trying to figure out how the woman would wear it the following day. Eponine was still unsure as to how she had become a part of the pre-wedding preparations. All she knew was that Musichetta had arrived at the front door, tugging Combeferre behind her. Once Enjolras had opened the door, Musichetta veritably threw Combeferre into the apartment and grabbed Eponine, shouting over her shoulder that she would bring her back the way she found her.

Eponine watched as the two women transformed Hélène into a blushing, beautiful bride, and felt subconscious of the pale green, cloth dress that she was wearing. Of course, she knew that Avis had created the dress, and Musichetta had raved over how the colour brought out the natural tan of her skin, but Eponine did not feel beautiful while faced with the delighted, bright-eyed Hélène.

"Eponine, what do you think of this hair style?" the future bride in question asked, staring at her reflection in the dusty mirror that resided in the corner of Avis' shop. Musichetta had piled Hélène's long, straight black hair on top of her head, and secured it with a hair pin that was enhanced with a pale pink decorative butterfly.

"You look beautiful, mademoiselle," Eponine mumbled in reply, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

Musichetta huffed and threw the hair brush in her hands down onto the table. "How many times do I have to tell you, 'Ponine? I ain't a mademoiselle, and neither is Hélène here. Hell, I'm sleeping with two men at the same time!"

"Musichetta!" Hélène admonished, gesturing to Avis.

"Oh, she knows! Mon Dieu, she's the one who told me that if I couldn't make up my mind between Joly and Bossuet, I should be with both of them!"

Avis looked up from the hem of Hélène's dress, grinning impishly. "There's no shame in being in love, my dears. Does not matter who you are or how much money you have, so long as there is love between the people involved."

"But Musichetta," Eponine attempted to explain herself, but was promptly cut off by Hélène.

"No, Eponine, Musichetta is right. We are friends, are we not?" When Eponine nodded, she continued. "Then we should not have to address each other in such formal terms. As Tante Avis just said, there is no shame in love. As friends, we love each other, and therefore should not have to put on airs just to please society."

"Well spoken, mon ami. You are about as good a speaker as that revolutionary fiancé of yours." Musichetta tittered as she helped her aunt remove the pinned dress from Hélène's body.

"Well, merci, mon ami. But we all know that the best speaker of Les Amis is Eponine's roommate." Hélène looked up at Eponine, smiling playfully.

Eponine felt herself turn bright red at the mention of Enjolras. "Enjolras is an excellent speaker," she mumbled.

"Oh, I bet that is not all he's good at," Musichetta teased, causing herself and Hélène to begin giggling profusely.

Eponine tried to get a word in to defend Enjolras' honour, but was saved by Avis, who gave Musichetta a playful swat to the back of the head.

"Honestly you two, leave the poor girl alone." Eponine smiled gratefully at the older woman, who smiled gently in return. "Now, Hélène, come back here tomorrow at eight o'clock, and we will get you ready for your big day, alright?" Hélène nodded, and Avis began to shoo them towards the door. "It looks like rain tonight, my dears. Best be going before you all catch your deaths."

Enjolras could sleep through anything. Honestly, it drove Les Amis close to insanity when they would see him leave the café at three o'clock in the morning and arrive at his morning lecture at 8 a.m. looking as if he'd slept for a full twelve hours. It was part of why Grantaire was convinced that he was made of marble: his face never betrayed his mood. So it was no surprise that he would have slept through the most torrential downpour Paris had seen in close to a decade. It was not a thunderstorm, nor was it a particularly windy night. It was as if the floodgates had just opened to pour a tidal wave of water down upon the usually dirty city. Enjolras would have slept right through until morning if he hadn't felt a large amount of heat twist and squirm its way into his arms. The sudden heat upon his naked torso and the light weight atop his chest caused him to wake with a start. He took a moment to clear his vision as his mind began to awake once more. He then became aware that this heat was, in fact, coming from a human body that had taken refuge in his arms. He tilted his head down and was met with a mass of dark hair right under his nose.

"Eponine?" he whispered, not wanting to startle her. His call of her name was met with a small whimper. He shifted on his make-shift mattress so that he could wrap his arms around her and rub her back gently. "Eponine, what is wrong?" He felt her shake her head and burrow further into his chest. "Epona, I cannot help you if you do not tell me what has you so shaken." Eponine did not release him from her grasp. Enjolras took it upon himself to attempt to understand why she was so afraid. "Did you have a night terror?" Eponine shook her head into his bare chest. Enjolras continued to stroke her hair as he questioned her about various sicknesses and her memory, continuing to come up with no answer as to why she was embracing him so tightly. Enjolras began to ponder what was different about this night from the other nights she had spent in his flat. "Eponine," called Enjolras, the answer beginning to dawn on him. "Are you frightened of the rain?"

At this Eponine raised her head and stared blankly at him with her wide, watery eyes. "N-no." At that moment the wind and rain lashed loudly against the window of the tiny apartment. Eponine's eyes widened and she buried her head into his shoulder, releasing a small whimper of fear.

Enjolras silently berated himself for wanting to chuckle at the young girl's outright lie. Instead of laughing, he settled for softly shushing her. "Eponine, you are alright. I will not let anything harm you, you know that. The rain cannot hurt you." Enjolras could not understand why this was happening. They had, just the previous week, traipsed through the rain when he had made a self-righteous ass out of himself and scared her away, and she had not reacted like this. He was again reminded, as he had so often been throughout the past few weeks, of how different Eponine was due to her accident. And yet, he was becoming more accustomed to reading her moods and understanding her silences. It scared him how attached he was becoming to her, but it also excited him. With Eponine, his whole life had been turned upside down.

"It rained that night; the night that my f-f-father hurt me. The rain only hurts people. It doesn't do any good." Eponine responded, clutching herself to him as the rain clattered even harder against the rooftop.

She uttered a soft cry when Enjolras shifted her out of his arms and stood up. He strode over to the chair on the opposite side of the room that held his red jacket, a white linen shirt, and his boots.

He quickly dressed in the shirt and shoes and turned to her. "Come, put your shoes on and come with me."

"What? Gabriel, it is raining out there. I will not be going outside, especially at this hour." Enjolras took a moment to consider the girl in front of him. So much had changed in the few weeks they had been living together, for both of them. Gone was the headstrong, brave, witty girl he had known as Marius' shadow. This girl was a shadow of her former self. She was timid and jumpy, and no longer stood up for herself. It finally struck him that he would give near anything to bring back that girl from the streets that would pass insults with Grantaire, or quietly tease Joly about his latest imagined contracted disease behind his back. This girl was like the flowers that first bloomed in spring. They fought their way through the frost and harsh conditions to thrive in the sunlight. Enjolras groaned internally as he swore that he would stop listening to Jehan spout his poetry all day as he felt he was becoming too sentimental. He quickly turned his attention back to the girl in front of him.

"Eponine, do you trust me?"

She looked at him. "Gabriel, you are just about the only person I trust right now."

Enjolras was again taken aback by her brutal honestly. "Then please know that I will let nothing harm you. Please, get dressed and come with me."

Eponine huffed, and Enjolras was pleased to see a tiny spark of who she had been enter her eyes as she rolled them, and quickly stuffed her feet into the pair of leather boots she and Musichetta had gotten at Avis' dress shop. She sauntered over to where her pageboy cap and trench coat sat upon his desk chair, and quickly put them on as well. She looked at him. "So, where are we going?"

Enjolras reached out and she timidly placed her hand within his large, warm one. "Just trust me, please." Eponine nodded her head and he led her to the front door of his flat, opening it, and pulling her outside into the rain, though they were partially covered by the overhead awning. Eponine clutched to him in fear. "Eponine, look around you." She did as she was told, but saw nothing of note and told him so. He sighed and shook his head. "Eponine, look harder. Look at how the rain washes away all that is past, and makes the pavements shine in the moonlight. The dirt of the city washes away and makes the city beautiful once more." He paused as a group of gamins rushed by, playing games and stomping in puddles. "The people become alive in the rain. They get fresh water to drink, and are able to clean the dirt from their skin. The rain washes away the past. In the spring, it causes flowers to grow."

Enjolras was so caught up in his speech that he didn't realize that Eponine was staring up at him with her wide eyes. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Somewhere in her addled mind she knew that this was just Enjolras, the boy who dreamed of building a barricade. Or at least, that's what she had thought before she knew him. Now she looked at him as the leader that everyone saw him as. She truly saw him and everything he stood for. She could see the passion he held for his country and l'abaissee.

Enjolras looked down and saw Eponine's shining eyes staring up at him. For a reason he could not even begin to rationalize to himself, he reached out and pulled her closer to him. "Epona, we cannot be fret about our pasts. If we do, there is no hope for our futures. That is why we cannot be afraid of the rain. It is a part of everyday life, and being afraid of it could limit our abilities to do what is right, as opposed to what is easy. Promise me, Epona, that you will not fear the rain anymore. It can hardly hurt you now. And when I am here, I will protect you from any harm. That is my promise to you."

"Then that is all I need to know," Eponine replied, running into the rain before she lost her nerve.

Enjolras remained where he was, stunned by her change. He hoped in his heart of hearts that it was his words and his promise that had caused her change of heart, but he did not want to be naïve. Instead of pondering the idea, he was shaken from his thoughts by feeling cold rainwater dripping down his legs. He looked up, dazed, and saw Eponine shaking with laughter. It was evident from the state of her dress and coat and shoes that she had been stomping in and kicking the puddles of rainwater that had accumulated. It then dawned on Enjolras that she had kicked the rainwater in his direction.

"Are you sure you wish to play this game with me Epona?" Enjolras challenged playfully.

"What is it, Marble Man? Are you afraid that you would lose?" Eponine laughed in his direction and turned her back to him while turning her face up to meet the rain.

Impulsively, Enjolras ran towards her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and began to tickle her stomach. Eponine tried to struggle away from him, pleading with him through her laughter for him to stop.

Suddenly, Eponine gasped in pain and raised a hand to her temple. Enjolras released her immediately and turned her to face him. "What is it, Eponine? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Enjolras continued to question her, looking all over her body for evidence of injury. He gasped when he felt a handful of cold rainwater drip down his neck. He looked over at Eponine, who was trying to hide her laughter behind her hands. "Apparently, you do not fight fairly, Mademoiselle." Enjolras stated as Eponine buckled over from the force of her laughter. Enjolras began to laugh himself when her laughter continued on for several minutes.

Enjolras moved to sit next to Eponine on the side of the road. The rain had once again plastered his curls to his forehead, but he found that he did not care. He found himself gazing up at the few stars that managed to peek out from behind the clouds. The sight of the silent guardians of the sky made a small smile grace his lips. He had always found something soothing about stars. They were cold, lonely, and far away, but there were many of them, and they were always there. Even if he could not see them, he knew they were there.

Eponine found herself once again gazing at the rebellious leader as he sat next to her. It was nice to see him so calm and relaxed for once. He looked like a young man for the first time in as long as Eponine could remember, rather than the downtrodden man with the weight of the poor and needy upon his shoulders that he had become. Eponine felt that he was not as distant as he had been in the past few weeks, and moved unconsciously closer to him because of it.

Eponine looked up to see what her companion was looking at, and took notice of the stars fighting to break free from the prison that the clouds had formed. "I've always enjoyed staring at the stars," she sighed, leaning her head against Enjolras' shoulder in an unthinking moment of relaxation. She felt him tense up for a moment, but when he relaxed she thought nothing of it. "They always make me feel as though I'm a part of something greater."

Enjolras had frozen when he felt her head rest upon his shoulder. He had never been this close, physically or emotionally, to another person in his life. However, he did find it appropriate that she was the first, as she shaken up so many other aspects of his life during her relatively short tenure at his apartment. Plus, it was not an unenjoyable feeling. Enjolras knew that with Eponine's fear of men and mental instability, her being close to him was her show of trust.

Enjolras had to resist leaning into her touch by reminding himself of all that lay before him: the revolution, the barricade, his career. He did not have time for sure trivial things as relationships. Damn her for causing this turmoil within him! After a long debate with himself, he opted to relax. He did not know how much time he would have after the revolution, so he decided to enjoy his time with Eponine while it lasted. Secretly, he wanted said time to last for longer than a brief jaunt out in the rain, but he did not have the energy to deal with such conflicting feelings at the present moment. For once, he chose not to think or quantify, but to feel.

"Eponine, you are part of something bigger. You are part of a family, Les Amis, and the revolution in general. Every person has a purpose on this Earth, and that includes you." Enjolras, deciding to continue with his policy of not thinking and only feeling, gently rested his head atop hers. "You have helped me see what tragedies can happen on the street more than any book or essay ever has. You have helped me connect with Les Amis in a more vital way." Enjolras paused for a moment, before admitting something that he had never spoken to anyone about. "My mother used to tell me that when the stars shine down upon us, they see us shining back up to them. She would say that some people shine brighter than others, and those are the people that help to make a difference in the world…Her beliefs are part of why I have decided to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. She often said that she wanted me to become one of those stars, but that I would have to prove myself to all around me."

The duo sat in silence for a moment. Enjolras had never shared his memories of his mother with anyone. He would speak of how she died should someone ask, but he had never willingly shared information about her life, especially in relation to his. He found that he liked it, though he doubted he would speak to her with anyone besides Eponine. She was exceedingly easy to speak to.

Eponine, for her part, was stunned into silence. Her Marble Man was not known for sharing personal details about his life, and yet he had opened up to her in a moment of vulnerability. She felt like she had to act quickly before he closed up again, so she stood and helped to pull him to his feet. They stood together, hands entwined, under the wispy dull light of the moon.

"She would be proud of you, Gabriel. I have often thought that your light is bright enough to cast all of the shadows out of Paris. I am sure that wherever she is, your mother is smiling down upon you."

Impulsively, Eponine stretched up and kissed him gently on the cheek. When she pulled back, she noticed that his eyes were closed and his cheeks were bright red. Eponine felt herself blush and she did not know where to look.

Enjolras was also trying to decide what to do. He felt himself blush, and noted that Eponine's face had also turn an alarming, but fetching, shade of red.

Enjolras cleared his throat. "Umm…Eponine—" Enjolras felt the shade of his face deepen as his voice cracked and he fumbled with his words. He cleared his voice once more before attempting to take on the tone of voice he used whilst trying to persuade Grantaire to stop drinking. "Eponine, we should go back inside. Tomorrow will be an extremely busy day, and we do not want to get overly tired. Also, with this rain, it will be a miracle if we do not fall ill."

Enjolras ushered her inside the building and up the flight of stairs, fighting the hand that wanted to find its way to the small of her back to balance and guide her as they walked. When they entered the apartment Eponine went straight to her bedroom—his bedroom—and closed the door. Enjolras noticed that the door to Combeferre's room was shut tight, meaning the groom-to-be was asleep, thankfully. Enjolras stripped his shirt off and laid it by the fire grate to dry off before flopping onto the couch and turning to face the fire.

Enjolras sighed, knowing that thoughts of Eponine would keep him up all night. He only hoped that his face would not show his exhaustion in the morning because, knowing his friends, they would question him until the priest opened the marriage ceremony, and continue to do so well into the night. He would have to give them some sort of answer, should the need arise, but he did not know what to tell them because he was unsure of what was going on himself. The uncertainty scared him and thrilled him at the same time.

Enjolras shifted on the couch, turning his back to the fire. A small smile graced his lips as he began to drift to sleep, somehow knowing that his nightmares would not be haunting him this night, what with such pleasant thoughts running through his mind.

A/N: So? Thoughts? Concerns? Questions? Please review, I know I've been missing for a long time, but I swear I'm going to do better! Reviews are my validation as a writer, so I am asking for at least 7 before I post the next chapter, which will be a really cute one with Combeferre's wedding!