My poor poor Lovelies... I am SOOOO SORRY! My muse literally flew out the window and went on vacation until a couple of days ago! So I have for you a new chapter... i warn you wanting more... it's a little filler, but my muse hasn't helped with the hospital scene quite yet... but that will come soon! I promise! But here is chapter 28! A little sadness and a little fluff! Again.. I am SOOO sorry and hopefully it won't happen again as long...
Warning: Mentions of Ep's past... and fluff ;)
Disclaimer: Despite my hiatus, I still couldn't manage to own Victor's work...
Chapter 28 Painful Memories
The worries of the upcoming week fluttered out of his mind as his eyelids began to droop. Rubbing Sarah's back gently they finally slid shut, locking him into a peaceful dreamless sleep, the best he had gotten in a very long time.
He was amazed at how well and long he'd slept that night. When he awoke, both twins were on his chest, Sarah with a trail of drool dribbling from her open mouth onto Combeferre's chest and Ben suckling his little thumb. Curled into his side, snoring very loudly for someone so small was Gavroche. He arched his neck to find the other adult in the bed, only to find her side empty. Frowning slightly, he maneuvered the twins off his chest and lay them gently down on the bed, smiling slightly of the sight of his three children in bed. Three children, Combeferre shook his head thoughtfully, never in his twenty-five years of life did he think he'd be in a stable relationship with the most beautiful woman in the world and surrogate father to her loveable baby brother. But never in a million years did he think he'd be the father of twins. Life had funny ways of working itself out, and Combeferre was glad it had worked out in his favor.
Dragging the bedroom door shut slightly, he shuffled towards the kitchen, hearing the kettle whistle and the old coffee pot gurgle with delight as it produced its mocha goodness. When he came into the little kitchen, he expected to see Éponine mixing her tea (two bags, a spoonful of sugar, and a dash of honey and lemon) and pouring over yesterday's newspaper. (He'd learned early on living together that Éponine doesn't like to be seen outside in the mornings… "It's simply a frightening sight." She'd once said, making him laugh. But four years later he'd get the paper every morning for her.) Once again he found himself frowning when he was met with an empty kitchen. Turning down the burner under the kettle he looked around, that's when he heard the shuffling and slight sniffling (?) Coming from the living room.
"Ponine?" He called out. "Are you alright?"
He moved towards the living room to find his fiancé on the ground, an old beaten box in front of her, papers scattered around her slightly trembling form.
He moved to stand above her, peering over her shoulder.
"Pon, whatcha looking at?" He noticed her fingers curled around an old picture frame; it was covered in a thin layer of dust and had a large crack spiraling down protective glass. He noticed, with slight worry, that her fingers were curled so feircly around the shattered glass, little beads of blood were pooling at the bottom of the frame.
"Ép, love, please relax your grip on the frame, I think you've cut yourself."
He knelt down and gently put his hands over hers, working the frame out of Éponine's shaking hands and moved slightly to scoop her into his arms. She leaned into the touch and curled into his chest, dampening his ratty old uni t-shirt with final tears, the broken frame still clasped tightly in one hand.
Reaching the kitchen, Combeferre placed her on the counter and opened the cabinet to grab the first aid kit. Moving back over to the counter, he once again tried to ease the frame out of Éponine's hands. Without looking up she let go, tears still falling and her shoulders shuddering slightly.
As he began his task of cleaning the gash she now had on her right hand (thankful it was only superficial.) he glanced over to the frame that now lay on the counter next to her.
It displayed a very familiar red haired man; he was much younger in this photo, his hair was a vibrant, fiery red, his face lacked the slumps and wrinkles and his skin was a normal tan rather than the jaundice filth that now covered the old bones. His lips were wide in a jovial laugh when his arms cradled a young toddler on his lap. The image showed movement, the little girl's hair was floating, her arms flailing as her father bounced her up and down. The little girl looked identical to the sleeping baby girl in her parent's room, or at least what she will probably look like in a couple years time. The picture was happy and full of life. Combeferre had seen the photo frame before.
She was finally officially moving in with him. If you asked anyone, the girls had all collectively moved out of their apartment at least a year ago, well in Cosette's case, moved her significant other in. Once Enjolras moved in with Grantaire and his flat was to himself, he felt it was only right they took that step together. He was more than relieved when she agreed (quite enthusiastically) before he even answered the question.
They were nearly done, she just had one box to retrieve, a beaten up cardboard box she clung too like life itself.
"What's in there?"
"My past."
He cocked his head.
"Here." She extended a free hand to him and he took it, allowing himself to be pulled over to her. She sat down, placing the box in front of her, taking him down with her. She opened the box, reveling a slew of papers, pictures, a ratty old teddy bear, a cracked china doll, and a shattered picture frame.
"This is everything from the inn, before everything happened, and," she gestured to the frame. "The immediate aftermath."
He nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue.
"The night he lost the last of his money, at the stupid poker game, he came home hammered. He began throwing things, yelling, screaming. He woke Azelma, she was 2 I think, and he didn't like the crying. He went over to quiet her and my Mom got in the way and he hit her. Full out punched her in the face. It was traumatizing, I was 6 years old and my dad was everything. I brought him this photo, of us when I was two. I tried to talk to him, but he seized the frame from my hands and threw it against the wall. He slapped me after that. Told me to 'grow up and stop being a child.' It was the first time he ever hit me, and it was the beginning of the end. That doll," She gestured to the cracked china doll. "Was the next thing he broke. He blamed me for all the money he had to spend; he threatened to throw me on the street unless I brought money in somehow. My mom, when she wasn't out boozing, was protective. She'd give me pocket change to keep to myself, when my father wasn't looking. I got my first 'job' when I was 7. Being a look out." She finished her story with tears trickling down her cheeks. Without a second thought he pulled her into his embrace.
"That's in the past, I won't let anyone ever hurt you. Never will I let him, his gang, or anyone ever lay a finger on you again."
She smiled in the folds of his shirt, bringing her arms up around his neck and digging her hands into his hair.
"I'm damn happy I've got you monsieur."
He laughed, closing the distance between them and capturing her lips with his own. He then scooped her up into his arms, causing her to break into giggles.
"Mamseille, I don't believe I've shown you to our bedroom yet." He whispered in her ear.
"By all means monsieur, show me to our chamber."
It would be another two days until the rest of their friends saw them again.
Combeferre smiled slightly at the memory. It was nearly a year ago that she moved it, no wait over a year. He stared to do the math and felt a blush creep up on his cheeks when he realized his children's age came into the equation. He was lost in his memories until he heard Éponine hiss in pain.
Snapping out of his revere he realized he splashed too much alcohol into her cut. Snatching a paper towel from the roll, he proceeded to clean and bandage her hand.
"So, you gonna tell me what's wrong?" He whispered, pulling both her hands into his.
"I'm scared." She breathed, still not meeting his eyes.
"What for? I thought you were the one telling me he's not going to hurt you anymore."
She shook her head. "I'm not afraid he's going to hurt me. I'm afraid whatever he's going to tell me is going to cause me to forgive him."
She finally met his eyes; her chocolate orbs were swelled with tears and her lower lip trembled.
"What's wrong with forgiving your father?" Combeferre asked quietly.
"He's hurt me in so many ways, he's caused so much damage to not only me but to Gav, Zelma, he nearly killed my mother, and his what he let his gang do to me. What if I go in there and he's more like the man I used to know? What if he asks for my forgiveness and I'm so moved with his change, that's he's repented seen the light and made a switch that I do. What if I let my guard down?" She whispered.
He was silent for a moment, taking in everything she just told him.
"Ponine, there's nothing wrong with forgiving your father. It'll not only help him if and when he moves on and it may help you when it happens."
"But what would others think if I forgive the man who beat me?"
"Forgiveness to a loved one is something that everyone has a right to give. It's also something everyone deserves. No will judge or criticize you for forgiving your father. If anything, they will admire you greatly for turning the other cheek and granting a dying man his final wish."
"Why are you always so deep?" She pouted, leaning forward into his chest.
"Perhaps it's because I minored in Philosophy at university?" He mused, kissing the crown of her head.
She smiled into his chest and sighed happily…. That is until she heard the screeching of hungry babies and the moan of an unhappy 8 year-old.
"That's my cue." She smiled, wiping the stray tears from her cheeks.
"Hey," He called, bringing her injured hand to his lips before letting her go. "No matter what happens today, I'll always love you."
She flashed him a brilliant smile before going to retrieve the babies.
Didja like it? I promise the next chapter will be up faster than this time! But until then I'd LOVE to hear feedback, it motivates me to write faster! So leave a comment/review and/or follow/fav!
until next time Lovelies!