NOTE: I don't know where to go from here. This is an experimental chapter, so please let me know if I should try to make a new one, or keep this one and fix things, or…n e thing else I haven't listed yet. I thank the few who reviewed the first 2 chapters (Javerts-Wench, Orestes Fasting, ourg), your support and constructive criticism really helped me out! Enjoy if this is good, if not…TELL ME!

1 YEAR INTO THE PAST

The café Musain was not crowded any longer. Most of les amis had already left, save for Grantaire. Grantaire was, as always, drunk. He didn't perceive that the rest of the students were gone, what was happening around him, and didn't know what he was saying, what anyone was saying to him, or anything.

This is where M. Thenardier ( or, as all people besides Marius and Valjean knew him, Jondrette) entered the café. He was trailed by a thin, rather ugly looking, dirty young girl of around 15. Thenardier looked around, hoping to find someone to beg for alms, then kicked Eponine in the leg and whispered to her, "Start crying."

"But…" she weakly protested.

"Do it!" he whispered harshly. She obeyed quickly and tried her best to summon tears from her eyes.

At this point, Thenardier had spotted Grantaire. 'Oh!' thought he, 'A student! Perhaps he will have mercy! Or money. Stupid boy, if he is one of the ones going to that damn barricade, I can just as well take everything he owns, for the brat will be dead within a month, no doubt.'

With Eponine in tow, Thenardier approached Grantaire, sporting a fake limp and hoarse voice. "Monsieur, do you have anything to give to me poor family? We are cold and hungry and me daughter is starved. Can ya spare anything, my good man?" Eponine sobbed (fake, I may add) at his side.

Grantaire, in his usual drunken half-stupor, was staring at Eponine through glazed eyes. He wasn't really looking at her, but it seemed that way. Thenardier mistook drunkenness for interest.

"You like my daughter, monsieur?" he inquired excitedly, still not forgetting to keep the hoarse voice. Eponine stopped fake crying and looked up, eyes wide. This is NOT what she had come here for.

"Ah, I'll take one…" by this Grantaire meant, 'I'll take one more drink', but Thenardier thought this meant he wanted Eponine for the night.

"Monsieur, 10 francs." Said Thenardier. It was a very, very high price, and for 10 francs a man could certainly get a better girl than Eponine.

"Look in my bag…" slurred Grantaire, pointing upward though the bag was at his feet.

Thenardier was confused by this. Nevertheless, he thought that the man must have been asking him to get the money out of his bag for him. So Thenardier opened the bag and searched through its contents for money.

He threw out a book, a stack of papers, and a wine bottle (no doubt what Grantaire had wanted Thenardier to 'look in his bag' for) before he found the money he had been searching for. He found fifteen francs. He took it all and shoved it into his pocket, then turned to face Grantaire again.

Thenardier then said "Thank you monsieur. You may return her when you like." And left Eponine with the drunkard in the café.

Eponine sat patiently with Grantaire, hoping he would never become sober, because then…she shuddered at what Grantaire had "paid" her father for. She hoped to God that, if and when he sobered up, he wouldn't be as harsh as that horrible Montparnasse she had met a year ago. A shiver ran down her spine just thinking about the horrid man. She saw his face in her minds eye, and shook her whole body, attempting to be rid of the haunting image, but to no avail.

Eventually, Grantaire sobered up a little. He suddenly saw that Eponine was sitting beside him and asked her "Who are you?"

She was startled and confused by the question, but answered anyway. "Eponine Jondrette."

"What are you doing hanging around me for, and where are les amis?" he asked.

Eponine raised an eyebrow at him. "You just paid my father for me. Your friends haven't been here for a while. Hours." She knew this because she had seen the other students leave earlier, as she had been, as always, spying on 'Monsieur the Baron Marius Pontmercy.'

Grantaire looked her over. "How much did I pay?"

"3 francs." Eponine lied. She was good at that.

"Oh." He said. "Well, I'm Grantaire. Nice to meet you."

Just then, a waitress at the café approached them and told them they would have to vacate the premises, providing that the café was closing.

They obeyed and stepped outside.

"Well, come along then, girl." Grantaire said to her. He saw the fear in her eyes and added, "No, no, not for that."

She didn't seem to understand. He could still see the fear in her eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

She stood indifferently. She had heard THAT line one too many times.

"I didn't MEAN to pay for you. I'm not going to do anything to you. You will come back with me to my place and sleep there. In my bed. I will take the couch."

She suddenly looked reassured. He found it funny how she could switch gears so suddenly.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to his apartment.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When Eponine awoke in the middle of the night, it was not because she was uncomfortable. No, no. She awoke because she was too comfortable. Grantaire's bed was way too nice. Eponine couldn't remember ever having anything as nice as this (or anything at all, for that matter) to sleep on at night.

She heard Grantaire snoring in the other room. 'A nice man, but he certainly likes to drink.' She thought. He reeked of alcohol, so she could smell it in the air, in his room, in his bed.

She decided she must try to sleep while she had a bed to sleep in.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Grantaire (also) awoke in the dead of night, though a little later than Eponine. He could not sleep. He didn't really know why, because, usually, when he had been drinking, he would fall quickly, even involuntarily asleep. He couldn't imagine why he couldn't now. He blamed it on a restless mind.

Grantaire sat up on the couch and mused for a time. He thought about Enjolras first. He was usually the object of his thoughts. He chuckled softly upon remembering Enjolras' speech he had made the previous night. He had been launched into the speech about how the bourgeois stepped over the poor and dying in the street, and how the government didn't seem to have concern at all about the situation, and blah, blah, blah! On and on! Grantaire, who had brought up the subject, immediately regretted it when Enjolras sent out his powerful and passionate--lecture.

Though to Grantaire, almost everything Enjolras said was of interest and grand, this speech/lecture that he had heard 1000+ times was getting a little old. Snore fest.

He then thought about how he didn't even know what had happened during the meeting tonight. This then led him to thinking about how he didn't know when they had left, then that he didn't remember how he had gotten Eponine, then his thoughts turned to the girl herself.

He stood up and made his way over to his room, the room Eponine now occupied. He entered quietly, and seated himself in a chair at her bedside. He stared at Eponine as she slept. She was quite ugly. He felt a pang of pity for the poor girl. She looked so innocent as she was sleeping.

He remembered the fear that had been so clearly displayed in those dark eyes when she thought he was implying prostitution. She was obviously sold out by her father often. He knew she was very, very poor, and perhaps would do better to NOT be living with this father of hers. Well, it couldn't do anything worse. Judging by her thinness, he didn't feed her, so she would do just as well without this pathetic excuse for a father.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In the morning, Grantaire awoke early. When he opened his eyes, he was startled to see Eponine's pretty, dark eyes staring at him. He found these the only thing remotely attractive about her. She also was a little startled when he woke up so suddenly.

"Well good morning, mademoiselle." He said sleepily.

"Oh, and good morning to you as well, monsieur." She replied, obviously embarrassed that he had caught her in the act of spying on him (or watching him, either one'll do).

"So, I will walk you back to your father before I go to class."

"Very well." She said, rather sadly and pathetically. "Oh, and monsieur," she said, looking into his eyes for the first time. "Thank you."

He knew what she was thanking him for. "Your welcome, mademoiselle."

And they walked out of the door in silence. As they strode down the street, Eponine shivered violently, the January chill cutting fiercely through her pathetic excuse for clothing. Grantaire put his arm around her shoulder in an attempt to warm her up. She startled and flinched at the touch.

'Poor girl', Grantaire thought, 'she's even afraid to be touched at all! God only knows what hell has happened to her.' Then, he noticed a huge purple and black bruise on her shoulder.

He himself winced at this horrible bruise. Sensing that he had spotted it, she put her other thin arm atop the bruise in an attempt to hide it from Grantaire.

He looked at her nervously. "How did you get that?" he asked her.

"Oh, well, I, erm, I ran into a wall the other day…" 'oh, how pathetic!' Eponine thought. 'Nice going, 'Ponine. I ran into a wall! What kind of excuse was that!' She sighed.

Grantaire knew she was lying, but didn't try to delve any deeper into her affairs. Lord knew he wouldn't like what he found.