((Remember that writer? The one who wrote 3 chapters and then disappeared? Well guess who's back! I know this chapter is horrible. But I felt more horrible about not posting for so long. So I wrote this. Be thankful though. I had to drag myself away from my Jekyll and Hyde soundtrack to get in the mood. Despite this….I'll try to be more frequent in my updates from now on.-Shammy))

The clouds seemed to hang low against the buildings of Paris on the day of Valjeans funeral. It seemed like there was a quiet whispering of the threat of rain, but it never came.

There weren't many people present, but among there were enough. Among them, inevitably were Marius and Cosette, as well as Eponine, Grantaire, and M. Gillenormand. There was also a well dressed man who Marius thought he recognized… but he could not be so sure. He was also sure he didn't care so very much.

The only thing of concern was Cosette silently weeping by his side, her slender hand in his. He tried to focus on comforting his wife, but there was a guilt branded on his soul. It was something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

The sadness that each person felt was different, yet it filled the air, infectious. The very thing they seemed to breathe in was not air itself but sorrow…Bitter and cold. It left the soul empty and the mind restless. Each person present could attest to it on some level.

"When we speak of the merits of a full life…What comes to mind? It is the purity of the soul achieved in the state on earth that we must look upon…" The priest began to make his speech, but all present were in thought; barely listening to the barren words.

After a funeral, there is always a quiet time. Those who have lost seem to be robbed of their voices. They spend long periods of time in contemplation, often alone. They think about what they now lack…and how to heal and fill that space. Marius and Cosette both went through this. As did Eponine…and though she did feel sadness for losing Monsieur Fauchelevent, it was not that loss she mulled over.

She could find no reasonable solution to fill the spot of Marius…and yet being near him in his new life felt nothing short of painful. Being away would hurt as much as being near. So she stayed where she was; with Grantaire in the guest room of the house.

There was a subtle problem with this period of post funeral mourning. Eponine still suffered with hers, but she did it quietly and away from prying eyes. Just so Marius wouldn't notice, if he even cared at all.

Marius himself went through his, but after awhile he became his cheery self once more. The only thing that kept him from being truly joyful was Cosette. He still loved her deeply, but she could not seem to shake the melancholy that had descended over her.

A month and a half passed. Yet still, when she walked it was with a heavy step, head bowed. There was still pain in her eyes that Marius did not know how to heal. He had tried.

He'd brought her flowers, and given her silence to talk out her feelings. He had comforted her when he was awoken by her crying in the middle of the nights, huddled over the bedside in the dark. It pained him to see her so torn.

"Marius…wake up…" Could it be? Cosette was waking him…a glimpse at the window showed it was still dark. She had not roused him because it was morning, for it was clearly once again the middle of the night. Something was different though…
She was not crying. On the contrary, in the half light of the dimmed lamp, he was almost certain he saw her smiling. The young man sat up a little more. Surely he was dreaming.

"…I want to move back to the Rue Plumet." She squeezed his hand gently. "I own it. We own it…and I miss our garden Marius." She whispered, kissing him gently on the lips. There was nothing he could deny her after that.

"Of course. When would you like to move?"

"As soon as possible."

The next day Marius, Cosette, Grantaire and Eponine moved into the house on the Rue Plumet. The latter pair were not so eager, saying they'd indulged on their friends hospitality for too long. Marius just told them to do whatever they wished…

So the misfits put themselves to work, to fill the empty days and as they said 'pay their dues.'

A heavy knocking on the front door could be heard and Eponine moved from the kitchen to get it. She had flour on her hands, but she dusted them on her rather plain dress and tidied her hair, opening the door. She never figured it could be anyone for her. Her days in the Rue Plumet were spent in silence. When she did answer the door it was always for the man or lady of the house. Not for either of the self proclaimed hired help.

Her thin frame looked more filled out now, her hair not exactly glossy, but it was not frizzy or matted as it had been in former days. There was a mildness in her eyes and a sadness on her lips that went unspoken. The word pretty could even be used. Still, she smiled for the person behind the door when she opened it.

"I'm sorry monsieur but the master and mistress are not-" Her jaw dropped in surprise, and the girl took a step back with fear.

Montparnasse leaned on his cane, innocently smirking.

"Hello Eponine. It's good to see you again."