A/N: Hello again, friends! FYI, this may be my last update for a while - my sister is about to graduate from college, so I'll be pretty busy around the house, and I have to make some progress on the next chapter. But for now, you know the drill!

Éponine awoke the next morning still in the hospital. She had to repress a momentary panic attack before she remembered everything leading up to how she got there – Enjolras questioning her at her father's trial, Montparnasse shooting up the courtroom with Brujon and Babet…

Enjolras saving her…

That was when she noticed that he was sound asleep in the chair next to her bed, in the same bloody suit that he had worn to court yesterday. He must have stayed here all night…

The man was more of an enigma than she had originally thought, she decided as she looked at him. The last time she'd seen him before the trial – was it really just two days ago? – he'd been yelling and screaming at her because she hadn't told him she was a thief's daughter and a prostitute. The next day – just yesterday? – he tried to take a bullet for her when her life was in danger. Éponine couldn't keep in a sigh of frustration. Talk about mixed signals.

He stirred a little, and she sat up in the bed, trying to smile at him. "You stayed all night?" she asked, only letting some of her genuine surprise color her voice.

Enjolras slowly opened his eyes, adjusting his position in the chair and looking around the room. "I suppose I did," he mumbled, his voice still low and heavy with what lingered of sleep. As hard as she tried, Éponine couldn't keep her heart from skipping a beat at the sound. "Is Azelma still here?" he asked, looking around.

Her eyes widened when he mentioned her sister's name. "Wait. Azelma...came here?" she whispered.

"I suppose you were already asleep," he said half to himself, not noticing the look of mortal fear on her face. "Yes, she came here last night. She was worried about you."

Éponine started shaking her head, fear and worry all over her face as she ran her hands through her hair in frustration, ignoring the sudden, stabbing pain in her shoulder. "No…no 'Zelma, bad plan!" she hissed.

"What's wrong?" Enjolras frowned.

"If he knows she came to see me, Papa will think she's 'changing sides," she explained. "He thinks of me as a traitor now, because I testified against him. I almost said everything, and I only stopped because of Montparnasse's…interruption," she said crisply. "Papa will think that if she talked to us, she'll want to leave him, and that's less income coming in for him by the day. Which means more abuse for my brothers and her, if she manages to stay out of there. He might even kill her before she could go out and blab the way I did."

Enjolras paled, settling a little further into the chair. "So she could be in danger right now, and not even know it."

"Exactly," Éponine said grimly. "I have to get to her," she said, pushing back the bedsheets.

"No," Enjolras said firmly. He reached across her to put a hand on her good shoulder and make her lie back down, pulling the sheets up. "You were shot yesterday, Éponine; you need to take your time to fully recover. You'll be no good to your sister if you aggravate or infect that wound and have to stay longer."

"I'm no more help to her cooped up in here!"

Enjolras paused. "I'll go."

Éponine paused too, looking at him. "W-what?"

"I'll go," he repeated. "I'll round up my friends from law school and we'll go looking for her. We'll bring her back safe and sound, I promise."

Éponine was shocked. She couldn't believe that after what she told him, with all he knew about her family, about her he was still willing to help someone he barely knew, willing to help her. She could hardly keep the tears down that wanted so badly to well up in her eyes. "You…you'd do that?" she whispered.

"Of course I would, Éponine," he whispered back, taking her hand between his. "I care about Azelma's safety, too. If she's in trouble, I want to help get her out."

She almost burst into tears, and couldn't stop herself from pulling him into an enormous, bone-crushing hug. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, her voice shaking. "So much…"

Enjolras was shocked, to say the least, but wrapped his arms around her malnourished frame and hugged her back. "Anything for a friend, Éponine," he murmured. He stroked her hair back from her cheek and, a bit to his own surprise, kissed her temple before pulling back. "Now if you'll excuse me, my dear, I have a few phone calls to make," he grinned.

Several hours later, thanks to his phone calls and the enticement of liquor, Richard Enjolras, Jr. had finally managed to gather his closest group of law school friends – the ones who called themselves the Amis – at his apartment. They all made it – Combeferre, Jack Courfeyrac, Alan Grantaire, James Prouvaire, Stephen Joly, and of course Marius Pontmercy, the young man from France who had joined their little group just recently. Enjolras liked him, even though it seemed his attention had a tendency to wander to more idle pleasures.

Enjolras picked up the decorative gavel his father had given him on completion of law school and hit it against the wall three times. Gradually, the chatter faded and his friends turned to face him as he put the gavel back in its spot over the mantle.

"Gentlemen," he said, "we are not here on the usual orders of business. Tonight's meeting requires a bit of explanation on my part."

"Does it have to do with the shooting at the courthouse yesterday?" Joly asked curiously.

Enjolras nodded. "Indirectly, yes."

"Well, get to it, man!" Grantaire shouted from the corner. Even in spite of Prohibition, the man somehow almost constantly managed to stay intoxicated. Enjolras took a moment to gather his thoughts before beginning.

"A few weeks ago, Mac hired a new bartender at the Whitehorse. Her name is Éponine Thénardier. As some of you know, I got to be very close to her," he said, his gaze darting briefly to Combeferre as he spoke. His best friend gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement, and he continued. "However, what she hadn't told me was that she was the daughter of the thief my father was prosecuting." He decided to leave out that she was a prostitute. "I…got unreasonably angry…and I didn't see her again until the trial yesterday. Her father's chums were the ones who shot up the courtroom." He paused. "I almost took a bullet meant for her."

"Almost?" Courfeyrac asked.

"I was barely too slow," Enjolras explained. "It hit her in the shoulder, and I took her to the hospital. Her sister showed up last night to thank me for saving her, which is the reason we're all here." His friends frowned all in confusion before he continued. "Since Azelma came to the hospital, Éponine told me she may or may not be in danger right now. If Thénardier gets wind of the fact that she talked to me, he'll think she's 'changing sides' and will want to get out of helping him and his gang. If she doesn't manage to stay away from him, Éponine is afraid that their father may kill her. I need all of you to help me find her, and keep her safe, for her sake and Éponine's."

"Enjolras, are you sure this is a good idea?" Combeferre asked unsurely. "I know you want to help her because she's Éponine's sister, but what if we all end up in too deep?"

The first man frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if Thénardier decides to come after us to keep us quiet? We could all end up deeper in than we plan," he said. "I just want us to think this through and take the time develop a solid plan. Maybe Éponine could help."

"She's been shot, you idiot," Grantaire said sardonically from the corner. "How do you think she'll be able to help us?"

Enjolras shook his head. "No, 'Ferre has a point," he said, cutting off Grantaire before he could continue. "She's his daughter. She would know a lot, and she knows her sister well. Azelma mentioned to me that they were very close as children. If she's willing to help us, she could be a huge asset. However, we don't have much time to waste; we don't know how much Thénardier already knows. Uneducated as he is, he's certainly clever when it comes to evading the law and getting what he wants."

There was a pause, before the Amis started murmuring amongst themselves. Enjolras held his breath, hoping they'd help him. He'd made a promise to Éponine, so he'd do it anyway, but with his friends, he knew he could save Azelma.

"Alright, we'll help you," Combeferre said. "What's the plan?"

Éponine lay in her hospital bed for most of the day, drumming her fingers on the sheets and trying to figure out what Enjolras' last words to her earlier. "Anything for a friend, Éponine," he'd said. What the hell did he mean by that? Did he just think of her as a friend now? Or was he just trying to make her feel better? Did he feel something that he was pushing down while her father's case was open? Or did he want to be with her at all? Her mind went through all of the possibilities, one by one, unable to erase the handsome lawyer from her memory.

She started to think about the night that the two of them had gone to see Firebird, and the haunting melody of the lullaby echoed in her mind. Éponine closed her eyes and remembered every detail of that night, even the sound of Enjolras' quiet breathing in her ear as he watched the ballet. She wanted it all again – to share something that special with him, to hold his hand on accident, to make him smile the way he had all night.

With the passage of time, Éponine had forgotten the smaller details of their kiss, but when she thought about it hard enough, she could still feel Enjolras' lips on hers, even though the memory of his taste had faded. When she closed her eyes, she remembered - the feeling of his skin on hers as he held her chin, the way she had leaned in to press her lips to his...ah, there was the memory of his taste - sweet, but with another flavor she couldn't identify. She sighed quietly when she opened her eyes, wishing it would happen again...

Then he suddenly called her name.

"Éponine?" Enjolras said softly as he entered the hospital room, flanked by Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Joly and Grantaire. She sat up in bed, smiling at the five men as they walked in. Enjolras was glad to see her looking happier. "Are you feeling better?" he asked kindly.

She nodded. "Much, yes. It still hurts a little, but the doctors say I should be out fairly soon."

"Fantastic," he said, only letting his relief partially show. In truth, he was beyond comforted that she was going to be alright. Through every moment of yesterday's debacle at the courthouse, he hadn't cared what happened to him, as long as Éponine was safe. He didn't know why he still cared so deeply for her, but he did know that he was going to continue to look out for her.

She pulled her knees up to her chest under the sheets, before looking back to the select group of Amis that he'd brought with him. "I've already met Mr. Combeferre," she said, nodding to him, "but would you care to introduce me to the rest of your friends?"

"Yeah, Enjolras," one of them – a cheerful-looking young man with a messy mop of dark curls – laughed, nudging him gently in the arm. "Care to introduce us?"

He stiffened a little, looking slightly irritated at his friend. "Of course," he said a little stiffly, pointing first to the man who had just spoken. "This is Jack Courfeyrac; he's the only one of us that wanted to keep going to school. He's working towards his J.D. now, hoping to be on the Supreme Court."

"I look forward to getting to know you better, Ms. Éponine," he smiled, kissing her hand. She smiled at him, but couldn't stop herself from blushing deep red. He was certainly charming. Enjolras made a mental note to have a word with Courf later, but for the moment, he decided to let it lie.

"This is Mr. Stephen Joly, who's starting his practice in family law."

"Very nice to meet you, Ms. Thénardier," he said quietly, a small smile crossing his face as she gently shook her hand. Éponine smiled back at him, gently returning the shake. She got the impression that he was rather shy, but he was clearly a kind man.

"And over here, we have Mr. Alan Grantaire – "

"A proud law school dropout, fine wine enthusiast, and self-made philosopher and nihilist," the man loudly finished Enjolras' sentence as he approached Éponine's side, staggering only slightly and waving an empty bottle of wine in his tightly clenched right fist. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Enjolras suppressing a cringe. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Éponine."

Enjolras made a note to also speak to Grantaire. "These four are some of my closest friends, and they'll be my primary aids in searching for your sister," he said. "I've already spoken with the rest of our little group, and they've all agreed to help."

Éponine was immediately paying more attention. "What's your plan?"

The five men seated themselves on and around her bed as Enjolras began to speak. "Right now, we plan to divide into teams not unlike the one here and split up, searching different areas of town for Azelma, or any signs of her presence. We'll also be looking within a mile radius; she can't have gone far without lots of money for cabs."

"Which I doubt she'll have, unless she's been picking lots more pockets than I thought in my absence," Éponine said. She looked down and took a deep breath, trying to think; she could feel Enjolras and the Amis watching her, waiting for her to speak again. "I want to go with you when you go out looking for her," she finally said. "Can you postpone the search until I'm discharged? If she's left town, she's likely to have left signs that I'll recognize, to let me know she's safe."

"Of course," Enjolras said with a nod.

"Let's wait a minute here," Grantaire said, gesticulating with the bottle he was still holding. "How do we know the girl's in any danger at all? She could be just fine."

Éponine shook her head. "Unlikely. 'Zelma's never been the best at staying out of trouble, of any kind. That was why I tried to talk to her about staying away from Montparnasse, but she – " The room fell silent as Éponine realized what she'd said. "Oh my God."

"What?" Combeferre asked worriedly. "What is it?"

Enjolras' eyes had grown wide with shock; he needed no further explanation after she had mentioned Montparnasse. Éponine looked at him, her eyes full of terror. "He's going to go after her."

"The shooter from the courthouse? You know him?" Courfeyrac asked, half-shocked and half-awed.

"All my life," Éponine said, nodding. "We were friends as children, before he decided to join my father's gang. He shot up the courthouse yesterday to get Papa out, and hit me in the shoulder when he saw I had been on the stand."

"He was involved with your sister?" Enjolras said sharply.

She nodded. "I don't know for how long. But we have to get to her as soon as possible. There's no way this can wait anymore," she said.

"I'll get your discharge papers from the doctor," Joly volunteered, practically jumping out of his chair.

"Thank you, Joly," Enjolras nodded before turning back to Éponine. "Come on, let's get you walking."

Montparnasse rested his feet on the pathetic excuse for a coffee table in front of him, putting a new cigarette between his lips and lighting it up. He was trying not to fume over the fact that he barely missed shooting that bitch Éponine in the heart at the courthouse yesterday…he chuckled to himself as he wondered what her pretty lawyer boyfriend would have done about it if he'd managed his goal.

They had been friends when they were young, he and Éponine…no, more than that. The term "childhood sweethearts" made Montparnasse want to vomit, but there really wasn't a better way to describe what his relationship to her had been before he joined Patron-Minette. What could have been different, he wondered…

"Oy, 'Parnasse!" Thénardier's rough voice jerked him out of his reverie. He took a long drag of his cigarette, not turning to face the man.

"Not so loud, Auguste. You don't want to get caught for abandoning court again," Montparnasse said coolly as he held his cigarette between his fingers. He knew he'd be in trouble for using his boss's highly despised Christian name, but he didn't care enough to spit out his last name. "What is it?"

Thénardier's eyes flashed for a moment, but he ignored 'Parnasse's use of his given name. "Where's my girl 'Zelma?" he growled instead.

Now Montparnasse turned around in surprise. "Azelma's gone?"

"Well, she ain't here," Thénardier snapped; he was much touchier on the subject of his younger daughter than usual. "When did ya last see her?"

The young thief hesitated, biting his lip. He couldn't truthfully tell Thénardier the last time he'd seen his daughter, because it had been under…not ideal circumstances. "I don't recall right now."

His boss glared at him for a moment longer before going back the other way, and Montparnasse was able to relax a little. He still wasn't sure what to think of his actions the night before – Azelma had gotten in late from wherever she'd been; she'd claimed to be out with an old friend, but he hadn't believed her. She'd been incredibly flirty when she got back, and once her father was gone, he'd gotten a little…frisky. They'd been kissing, and she'd pulled back when he reached down to pull up her skirts, asking him to stop and some nonsense like that. But by God, she'd gotten him excited and he wanted what he wanted.

He probably slapped her a little harder than he should have, come to think of it…and pinning her to the floor to force her legs apart may have been just a bit excessive…

Nah, he decided with a shrug, lighting another cigarette. She was asking for it.

By the time Enjolras and the Amis accompanying him managed to get Éponine out of the hospital, it was nearly 7:00 in the evening, and they had no idea where to start looking for Azelma. Éponine wanted to go straight to the Patron-Minette base and give Montparnasse a piece of her mind – and perhaps her fist – but Enjolras somehow managed to talk her out of it. He wasn't quite sure how.

"If he's not above using violent force, we need to avoid him until you're fully healed," he reasoned with her. "You'd just end up right back in the hospital, and that wouldn't do anyone any good. Least of all Azelma."

Éponine sighed in irritation. "Fine," she muttered through gritted teeth. "What do you propose we do?"

"Where do you think your sister would have gone after seeing you at the hospital?" Courfeyrac asked, any hint of his joking demeanor from earlier now gone.

Éponine tried to rack her brain. "If she didn't go back to the Patron-Minette base…" she bit her lip. "I'm not sure."

"Well, why don't we go to the base and make sure she's not there before we do any more searching?" Combeferre suggested.

"We're not going back there, 'Ferre," Enjolras half-snarled through gritted teeth. "He shot her. I'm not taking any more risks than are absolutely necessary."

"Enjolras, there's no need to search any more than is necessary," Combeferre said calmly. "The sooner we can find Azelma, the better, and if we eliminate one location, that will speed the process along."

They all looked to Enjolras for the final answer as he mulled over the options before them. He didn't want to deal with Montparnasse again if it was at all possible to avoid him, but Combeferre, as he always did, had raised a good point. "Alright, let's go," he said almost grudgingly. "Lead the way, Éponine."

A/N: And, we'll continue the search for Azelma in the next chapter! Please review and let me know what you think. :)