I'm still alive

(don't kill me.. not only for the wait, and for the short chapter, but also for what's coming up).

Enjolras slept uneasily, if it could be called sleeping at all. The images—nightmarish and elongated—of Éponine locked in an embrace with Montparnasse haunted him. He didn't want to think of the captain's cherry lips nearing Éponine in any way. He didn't want to think of—hell, he didn't want to think of the two of them in the same room, let alone anything else.

He made a resolution there on the floor. As he struggled to find a slightly softer plank of wood, he promised himself that he would apologize in the morning. He meant no offence to her… hurting her in anyway was the last thing he wanted to do.

However, when the hatch opened, a very different set of footsteps made their way down to the hold. Enjolras caught the reflection of his own scowl in Montparnasse's gleaming boots. His gaze lingered as he forced it up to the youth-like face looking down at the three prisoners.

"What are you doing here?" Enjolras growled. Beside him, he heard Marius and Cosette stir from their embrace.

"Our precious 'Ponine couldn't make it this morning. She was… inconvenienced, if you will."

What Enjolras was thinking, he didn't know himself. However, he got the message and leapt to his feet. A stretching, searing pain shot up his back and he gritted his teeth and managed to hiss through them, "What have you done to her?"

"Enjolras," Marius said from the floor, "What's happening?"

"What have you done to her?" Enjolras repeated. His voice grew in the small chamber, and he felt the smallest spark of pride when Montparnasse flinched at the fierceness. After all, Montparnasse and Enjolras were not that different… they were both charming and terrible, but the lesser of the two evils was growing in the belly of that ship.

"Nothing that she didn't deserve." Montparnasse smirked. He wasn't quite as affected as Enjolras initially thought.

Fire coursed through Enjolras's veins and his hand shot out to seize the silky fabric of Montparnasse's waistcoat. He yanked, pulling the criminal's smooth, pale face up against the bars. The platter of food that he held clattered to the ground. Cosette's sneaky arm slid out and grabbed a hold of what fell.

"Now, now, now…" Montparnasse chuckled. The fear of a small animal trapped by a predator flashed through his spring-green eyes. "I'm the only one who can give the order to let her live."

"Please," Enjolras begged. He released Montparnasse, who scrambled away, narrowing his eyes. "Don't hurt her."

Montparnasse straightened up, smoothing his crumbled clothing. He gave very little answer, except to mumble something noncommittal. However, it appeared that Marius heard, for the boy rose to stand beside Enjolras.

"What did you say?" Marius asked. Never before had his voice sounded like anything other than that of a personified puppy, and yet now it seemed swollen with rage. Cosette's face was stony as well. Out of the three of them, Enjolras got the sudden inkling that Cosette was the most dangerous.

"I said," Montparnasse drawled, "it's a little too late for that."

"BASTARD!" Cosette cried. "You—"

"Cherie—" Marius looked at her with wide eyes.

"Let her go, please! Whatever we did, we're sorry… don't hurt her," Enjolras beseeched.

"Selfish boy… what makes you think that she is incapable of doing anything independent of you?" Montparnasse scolded, almost as if he was a parent and Enjolras a child. However, the latter knew that he had at least three years on the young captain. "But, if you really must know, it did have to do with you."

With one final smug look, Montparnasse left the three of them alone with a few flasks of water, some stale bread, and a worry enough to eat them away from the inside.

Éponine was a figure head. Delirious from the heat of the sun against her nearly bare chest and her lack of water, she felt as though her rubbery legs were indeed a mermaid's tail. Perhaps her life as 'Éponine' was all a lie…. she was just a wooden statuette after all, meant to guide the ship across the Atlantic.

Wow, she thought, I must be made from one imaginative tree…

She was dimly aware of some jeers coming from above her head. The rope that bit her skin was cold against her. Its scratchy pain was a relief from the relentless sun. However, she knew from the night before that the heat wouldn't last. Come nightfall, the world would be plunged into a misery dark and cold… oh so cold.

Éponine groaned. Someone poured water down and it crashed over her head. That'll ice over later tonight, she thought dizzily. A few drops made their way to her already-parched lips. She gulped them eagerly.

There's no way I'm made of wood, she thought. Wood can't feel this much pain.

"What do you think—" Marius began.

"No." Enjolras felt the word get caught in his throat. "I don't want to think about it." He paced quickly. The pain in his back seemed to finally be going away. A mix of time and Éponine's salve seemed to be doing the trick. Cosette held up a rock-hard chunk of bread towards him. He shook his head. "Thank you, but no. I feel ill."

"Look, you've got to think about it at some point or another," Cosette reasoned. Her small fingers tore a small piece off of the bread and popped it into her mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, she handed what remained to Marius. "If we're going to help her, we need to—"

"Help her?" Enjolras laughed loudly. With his dirty curls flung back and his mouth wide open and his chest heaving with laughter, he knew that he looked like a madman. He probably sounded like one too. He stopped his hysteria and fixed his gaze on Cosette's widening blue eyes. The girl scooted away from him. "I don't know if you know this, mademoiselle, but we're in a cell. How the hell are we going to—"

"Trouble in paradise?" Montparnasse's smooth voice interrupted. He seemed almost to hop down to their level, at which point he placed the platter of food and water on the floor and slid it under the bars. Enjolras smirked; he'd managed to ingrain fear in their slippery captor. Montparnasse wouldn't come near to the bars again.

"Tell us what's happening to her," Marius said. It wasn't a question—it was a demand. One that they all hoped Montparnasse deemed fit enough to fill.

"It's a test of sorts… Let's see if she survives until tomorrow."

"Ransom!" Enjolras blurted. The others in the room fixed him with a strange look. He licked his lips, ignoring the thoughts of the many, many terrible things that could be happening to Éponine at the moment. "Marius has a rich grandfather, Cosette's father is well-off, and my own family is very wealthy. Surely the ransom is worth enough to save Éponine. Please," Enjolras said. He hated that he was begging, but he was not at a great point to be his defiant self. Perhaps groveling was all he could do.

Montparnasse tilted his head, appearing to mull it over. "The ransom seems promising…" he hums. "But… if I can have both, then both I shall have."

"Merde!" Enjolras shouted, shaking the bars with great force. His knuckles were white as his fingers clutched the metal.

"Eat up," Montparnasse said. "You never know when your last meal is going to be."

Enjolras watched with despair as they were left again. The last image he had of Éponine's face flashed before him. She looked hurt… betrayed. And it wasn't Montparnasse who did such a thing to her. It was him. It was Enjolras.

The sick feeling in his stomach grew as he thought, Am I just as much of a monster as Montparnasse?

Outside, the night sky was beginning to overtake the paleness of the afternoon. A shivering girl was exposed to the elements. Tied to the helm of the ship, tucked in between the gigantic mermaid figurine's breasts, was Éponine. Her dark hair flew about her face. Her eyes were salty and nearly shut. Her lips were peeling. Her skin was red and burnt. Her feet dangled high above the menacing water.

If there was a God, it would be a good time for him to start listening. She prayed that he would take her to his kingdom before she had to face the freezing night.