"Didn't I tell you this would be fun?" Marie grinned, passing the bottle back to Éponine "Go ahead, kill it."

"If you insist" The fourteen year old smiled, gulping down the remaining whiskey. Éponine closed her eyes as half of the remaining liquid ran down her throat, while the remaining half soaked her neck and slid down her dress. She could even feel some of the whiskey in her chest, but by this point she didn't care one bit. She had tried it before, of course, but she had never had so much for herself. Now she could feel her worries fly away, leaving only the smile on her face and her glittering brown eyes, along with a soothing feeling all over her body.

"No wonder father drinks all the time" Éponine concluded, placing the bottle down, on an old discarded chemise which Napoleon, Marie's cat, had turned into a bed.

"Don't get so excited though, I don't know when, or if, I'll be able to get another bottle so easily." Marie replied. "Well, it's getting late. You know what they say, time flies when you're getting your friends drunk. Now I've got to work" Marie smiled and stood up "But I'll see you tomorrow, and hey, don't go about saying everything I told you tonight, huh?"

"Don't worry, I probably won't remember by tomorrow, hell I think I forgot already" Éponine smiled, taking Marie's hand to stand up, feeling the entire world spin around her "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"Of course it was, maybe next time I'll take you to the tavern so we can meet some handsome lads, how about that? For now I have to head to the docks, you think you can make it home on your own?"

"Of course I can" Éponine replied "but don't call it that."

"What?"

"Home."

She was used to the darkness. It was just as easy as doing it in the daylight. She closed the door softly behind her, and tiptoed into the living room, convinced that she was walking in a perfect straight line. She felt her hair tickling her nose, but she did not stop to place the locks behind her ears. She could hear a very faint hum in her ears, but she couldn't tell if it came from her parents' bed or outside. The staircase, at the opposite end of the room, seemed bigger than usual and the wooden bars of the rail casted a shadow so long it stretched across the room and touched the tip of her shoes. Even though the stairs seemed to be fleeing her, she kept walking, trying to remember if the step that used to creak was the third or the forth. It was a cold night, but the smell of the forest that entered with the breeze was oddly soothing, she didn't even realize she was shacking. For a moment, she feared she had left the door open, and as soon as she turned around to see, her foot hit a wooden stool. She chuckled faintly, not realizing at the moment she had managed to knock down the stool along with some dirty pots that rested on it. She was still giggling when the footsteps raced from upstairs, and though part of her knew she should be running, there was no way her mind could persuade her body to move. It was too late. Before she knew it, her father's wrinkly hands were around her wrist and the old man was dragging her towards the patio as he cursed loudly.

If the bucket was full or he filled it, she didn't remember, but what she would never forget was the hand suddenly pressing down her head as her knees hit the dirt, and the water striking her face all at once, making it burn like fire. The water went up her nostrils, up her mouth, up her ears, as her arms moved, desperately looking for a way to stop her father. She felt the pressure on her chest begging for air as she tried in vain to scratch her father's hand. She was coughing violently when he finally pulled her up, but she only had a few seconds before he repeated the procedure. As she remembered it all, Madame Thérnadier felt once more the exhaustion and the nausea as if she had the bucket in front of her. She was so young, after all, she must have been Azelma's age that first time she came back home drunk. Madame Thérnadier pushed the memory away, as she watched Éponine stumble up the stairs.

Madame had been able to smell it, even before Éponine stepped into the building, she just knew. So she had been waiting by the opened apartment door, even before her daughter's figure emerged from the shadows.

"Come in, come in already!" Madame hurried Éponine with a hushed voice. She grabbed her daughter's arm and pulled her into the apartment before closing the door softly, then she whispered "You stupid girl, you're lucky you're not going out to rob houses tonight."

"I'm not?" Éponine asked loudly.

"No, idiot, your father has a toothache, now shush, and go to your room before you wake him up, imagine what he'll do if he sees this." But Madame had not even finished the sentence when she heard movement coming from her bedroom.

"C'mon, c'mon, go" Madame urged, her daughter, but Éponine only managed to take a couple of steps before Monsieur Thérnadier came out of the room. He moved clumsily towards them as he rubbed one his cheeks.

"What's going on?" He asked. Madame felt her heart running faster.

"Nothing, nothing, go back to bed, I'll be there in a moment" Madame said firmly, but her husband didn't listen, instead he stood in front of Éponine and leaned forward, sniffing loudly. There was a moment of silence, madame shifted her gaze between her daughter and her husband, wishing either was a little less drunk so she could read their thoughts in their eyes. She was about to step between them, when suddenly, monsieur Thérnadier let out a laugh so loud it seemed to make the floor shake, as he bent over, unable to contain the chuckles.

"Is she drunk?" He asked his wife, giggling as he pointed at Éponine.

"No" Éponine replied, grinning.

"Stand in one foot" He commanded "Go on, one foot."

Éponine did, only to fall quickly, as her father slapped his leg and laughed harder this time. From the floor, Éponine began laughing as well, and Madame Thérnadier found herself joining them despite her best efforts.

"Look at that! Where did she even get booze?" Monsieur exclaimed, laughing to the point which his chuckles had turned into an odd wheezing.

"Don't know" Madame said, helping her daughter stand up "Now you go to bed, sleep it off, and whatever you throw up you clean yourself, you hear?"

Éponine nodded, still chuckling as she went into her bedroom, where her two siblings were waiting with a sea of questions.

Madame then looked at her husband who was trying to normalize his breathing, and smiled.

"Do you know why I married you?" She asked.

"Because I looked great in my uniform?"

"Yes, but mainly because my father hated your guts."