A/N: Big news, everybody! I want all of you to know that thanks to you, this story has set a new record for most reviews! I cannot tell you how happy and how grateful I am for all of your feedback and support. Kudos to Freedom909 for the 60th review, which officially broke the old record of 59 on One, Two, Tick, Tock! You're also an awesome collab partner! :) Alright everyone; you know the drill - read, review, and most of all, enjoy!

They made it to the base in just a few minutes. Éponine signaled for the men to be quiet as they approached the back entrance. "I'll go in there and try to reason with Montparnasse," she said quietly. "If anything starts to go wrong, I'll scream. All clear?" The five men nodded in unison. "Alright, here I go. Wish me luck," she said, her weak attempt at a chuckle belying her true nerves.

Enjolras ground his teeth as he watched her go in, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. He hated this idea, especially since her wound hadn't even really healed. He knew she was in pain; she was probably trying to be tough while they searched for Azelma. If Montparnasse tried anything, she might end up back in the hospital, and Enjolras would have to kill him. In the moment that she disappeared, he wanted nothing more than to pull her back to him.

Why are you thinking like that, Richard? You can't always be so protective of her. She's not yours; she was never yours to lose. You were supposed to let her go, weren't you?

Apparently I can't…

Éponine went under the flap that led to the back of the Patron-Minette base. She realized as it whooshed closed behind her that she felt incredibly unguarded, without Enjolras and the Amis behind her. The pain in her shoulder was back, but she tried to ignore it as she stood up to her full height.

"Montparnasse, we need to talk."

"Is tha' you, 'Ponine?" he slurred loudly.

She gritted her teeth and sighed heavily, but quietly. Drunk before sundown, of course. "Yes, 'Parnasse; it's me," she said, trying to sound cheerful and failing miserably.

He laughed far too happily for her comfort. "Come over here, 'Ponine! Come say hello to your 'Parnasse!"

A lantern was lit on the other side of the tent, and she edged towards it. Her stomach sank as she got closer and saw that there were three empty wine bottles scattered around him; he was working on a fourth. Surely he didn't drink all that on his own...?

He turned to look at her, still smiling to broadly for her to be anything approaching comfortable. She froze, not sure what to do. Did she scream now? Did she wait until he posed a threat? "Come on, baby, don't be afraid," he slurred again, pulling her down by the waist. "Come on and sit with me."

"'Parnasse, listen – "

He cut her off with a sloppy, drunken kiss. "Shh, no time for that, dollface," he grinned. "We have far more important things to do."

"Montparnasse, stop it!" she said angrily, pushing him away.

He slid a hand under her skirts and Éponine felt nauseated. "Calm down, baby; it's just me," he purred, slowly leaning her onto her back. Wildly, Éponine pushed hard on his shoulders as he tried to lean over her, slamming him into the wall as she scrambled to get out from under him. He managed to slap her once – a loud, hard slap – as she tried to get away, and she cried out in pain.

That was enough impetus for the Amis to race through the back flap and towards her. Two familiar hands caught her by the shoulders and pushed her back behind – Enjolras. She watched in fear as the other four men restrained Montparnasse, and as Enjolras drew himself up to his full height. A rage that she had never seen before shadowed his handsome face. He was…terrifying. She had never seen such deep, righteous fury in any face before. The only thing she could think of that could equal it was the way her father used to look before he would punish her when she was a child, but that had been a different kind of anger.

"Enjolras – " she tried to stammer out.

"Stay back, Éponine," he said firmly, but not angrily as he watched his four friends press the thief into the wall behind them. "I need to have a word with this bastard."

"Be careful," she murmured in his ear. "He's capable of some terrible things." A small chill went down his spine, the way it always did when her breath went across his skin, and he nodded once to her, before approaching Montparnasse.

Enjolras had to work to contain his desire to kill the man in front of him. No, not a man – he was so much less than a man. He had taken advantage of both Éponine and her sister, and had dared to slap her, his beautiful Éponine, in the face. The fact that he had used violence and his "manhood" as tools to make her live in fear was what set Enjolras' blood ablaze. That was what made Montparnasse the filth Enjolras considered him to be.

"Ah, the pretty boy prosecutor returns," Montparnasse drawled.

Enjolras couldn't contain himself anymore, and he lashed out with a vicious right hook that took all of his might. The thief's head bounced hard off the wall behind him when Enjolras' fist connected with the side of his face. "Where's Azelma, you scumbag?" Enjolras growled. "If you've hurt her…"

Montparnasse chuckled as he spat blood. "Got two girlfriends now, do you pretty boy? And sisters, besides! Tell me, how do they compare?"

Enjolras was about to punch him again as Éponine caught his arm. "Don't. It just encourages him," she hissed. "The more you punch, the more he knows he's got you riled up. It's a mind game." With several deep breaths, he lowered his arm, and she stepped back.

"It's not about me," Enjolras said through clenched teeth. "Éponine is worried about her sister. Now tell us, where is she?"

Montparnasse clucked his tongue. "Sweet little Éponine, always so worried about everyone else," he chuckled dryly. "Has she told you her little secret yet, pretty boy?"

"Dammit man, where's the girl?" Grantaire shouted.

"She's not here!"

Éponine's stomach dropped. "No…" she whispered. "No!"

"Éponine – " Enjolras tried to stop her as she ran forward, grabbing Montparnasse by the shoulders.

"Where is she, 'Parnasse?!" Éponine cried desperately, shaking him. "Where's my sister?! You have to tell me now!"

He raised an eyebrow at her hysterics. "Why are you suddenly so desperate to find her?"

"That's none of your concern," Enjolras snapped over Éponine's shoulder. "Just tell us where she is, or by God, I'll have your head."

The thief laughed brazenly at the lawyer. "Are you so determined to save every little wretch you may meet?" he asked harshly. "One minute you're working with your father, the opposite of a champion of the poor, and now you've become one. Tell me, what has to happen for such a transformation to take place?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back for Richard Heiland Enjolras, Jr. He picked the man up by the front of his shirt and picked him up off the ground. "Listen to me, and listen well," he snarled, holding Montparnasse very close to his face; his feet were no longer touching the ground. "I will not be lectured by one who has turned his back on others. My path is clear; I will protect Éponine, Azelma, and any innocent person I may meet, no matter the cost to myself. I will save them all from scum like you, and I will be the one to ensure that you can never touch them again. You are less than a man, and you will get what you deserve in the end."

"Oh, we all know 'Parnasse ain't a man," another voice sounded from the darkness. "Question is, what does tha' make me?"

Éponine paled and gripped Enjolras' shoulder as he dropped Montparnasse to the ground. "Papa…" she whispered in mortal fear, her voice barely audible. Without thinking, Enjolras slipped an arm around her waist to pull her tightly against him; she pressed against him, shaking like a leaf. As long as he had a say in the goings on, Thénardier wasn't going to touch his daughter. He tried to channel some of his courage and strength into her; he knew she needed it the most.

"Hello, 'Ponine," the voice said as he stepped into the light. Enjolras and the Amis tried not to cringe at his appearance. The light threw grotesque shadows on his face, making him look skeletal. His teeth were the same shade of yellow as the light, and his eyes were sunken into his face. "What's yer lil' boyfriend doin' 'ere? Ain't 'e too good ta be seen in this part o' town?"

"We're looking for Azelma," Courfeyrac said, trying to divert attention from Enjolras. "Éponine was worried about her."

"And who th' 'ell 're you?" Thénardier snapped.

"Just a friend," he shot back. "We're all friends here."

The criminal raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is tha' how ye want it ta be?" he asked, his tone getting dangerous. "All o' us bein' friends?"

Éponine knew Courfeyrac had made a mistake. She sensed the shift in her father's mood and tugged on Enjolras' sleeve. "We should split," she hissed.

As she spoke, they heard the quiet sound of a knife hissing out of its sheath. As Enjolras turned his head, he saw Montparnasse getting up. He jumped out of the way just in time, also missing a punch from Thénardier. Combeferre managed to grab the knife from Montparnasse and punch him in the chest as Enjolras hit Thénardier in the stomach. The Amis and Éponine quickly ran away before the two criminals could recover.

"That was close," Combeferre said as he regained his breath.

"Too close," Enjolras growled, straightening his suit. Éponine could tell he was still unhappy that they had gone there at all, and hoped they could change the subject soon.

"But at least now we know the girl's not here," Grantaire said.

"Azelma!" Éponine cut in sharply. There was a quiet pause as they all looked at her for a moment, waiting for her to recover. "Her name is Azelma," Éponine said, a little more calmly.

"And we will find her for you, Éponine," Courfeyrac said gently. "We promise, all of us do."

She barely smiled, but it was the closet she'd come to a smile in days. "Thank you, gentlemen."

Enjolras stepped over to her and gently clasped her hand in his. "We're here for you, Éponine. All of us," he said firmly. "But I think that coming here was still a mistake. For tonight, we need to plan an efficient way to search the city."

"Let's go back to my apartment, and we can discuss our options there," Éponine offered.

Enjolras nodded. "Alright, that sounds like our best option for now. Let's go."

Fantine sat in her little shack in the slums of New York City, pulling her thin, wearing shawl a little tighter around her frame as a cold wind blew through. She hadn't heard from Richard Enjolras, Jr. in several days, and hoped it was because he was making further developments on the case she had asked him to look into.

Don't be ridiculous, Fantine, she told herself. He has more important things to worry about than you and Cosette, especially when he doesn't even have his damn law license yet.

A knock at the pitiful excuse for a door interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she said softly. The door opened, and the last man she expected to see walked in. Her stomach dropped, and she couldn't keep her jaw from doing the same. "You..." she whispered.

"Hello, Fantine," he said. "How long has it been?"

"28 years, to be precise," she said coldly. "What do you want with me, Richard?"

"I'm looking for my son. He picked up my old journal a few days ago, claiming that he wanted just to look at one entry, and I haven't heard from him since. He still has it. Have you seen him?"

Her breath caught for a moment; she prayed to God that Richard the younger hadn't done anything to hint that he was working for her. "I don't believe I've even met your son," she answered as calmly as she could, even though her heart was racing. "You never told me you had a family all those years ago, remember?" she added, failing to keep some bitterness out of her tone.

He clearly bristled, but ignored her. "More to the point, I need to see Felix. Is he here?"

Fantine shook her head. "He went out to some of his speakeasies a few hours ago. I don't know when he'll be back."

Richard groaned. "Fantine, you know I need my next shipment soon."

"That's up to him, not me," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "He's the bootlegger of the family, not me. Now, if you'll excuse me, my daughter and I have to eat. Cosette!" she called into the other small room of the hovel, exactly the way Richard Enjolras, Sr. remembered it. He promptly left before he could see the girl, coming face to face with the man he wanted to see.

"Ah, Felix! I was just looking for you," he said, shaking the man's hand. "Your wife said you were out."

"I was," Felix said in his thick Boston accent as he lit a fresh cigarette. "Don't worry; I'll have your next shipment in a couple of days. The fuzz are cracking down, so it's gonna take a little longer."

Richard wanted to punch something. "Felix, I can't wait much longer!" he exclaimed. "I've been going dry for almost a week, and things are about to get ugly!"

"Calm down, Richard," Felix said. "You have my word, you'll be my first delivery as soon as it gets to me. Alright?"

He was unsatisfied, but this was the best deal he could get. "Done. Don't disappoint me, Felix."

Enjolras and the Amis stayed up with Éponine into the wee hours of the morning, planning and talking and strategizing, trying to figure out a quick way to figure out Azelma's location as the liquor supply slowly dwindled. Éponine had several ideas, but varying feelings on each, which she would bounce off the Amis, and they would all collectively debate. Enjolras, thankfully, kept the argument to a minimum and always encouraged Éponine to speak her mind. They all acknowledged her as the default leader of the operation, since they were looking for her sister, and she knew the streets the best.

At about 3:00 in the morning, Enjolras came back from the restroom to the other four men lying haphazardly on the living room floor - all of them sound asleep. Éponine was standing in the kitchen, chuckling to herself as she looked at them. She was still smiling when their eyes met, and he navigated the maze of sprawled limbs to go stand by her. "I suppose they got tired?" he murmured.

She nodded. "I told them they didn't have to drive back to their places if they didn't want to. I guess they decided to take me up on it," she smiled.

Her smile was infectious, and Enjolras couldn't help but return it. "Grantaire can never stay awake for long if he's had enough alcohol," he chuckled. "How much whiskey did he have?"

"Quite a bit," she said softly. "I was wondering how much it would take." The two of them stood there in silence for a brief moment, before she spoke again. "Thank you…for everything today," she said softly, not making eye contact with him. "I was afraid of Montparnasse for the first time in a long time when I went in there…"

"You don't need to be afraid if I'm with you, Éponine," he said gently. "I'll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe." To his surprise, she hugged him in gratitude, tighter than she ever had. He was a little hesitant, but soon embraced her also.

His thoughts were torn as he held her again. It all felt so right – her head against his chest, his arms around the small of her back, her long hair tickling the top of his arm, the feeling of her breathing against him…did he say something now? What did he say if he did? What was he supposed to do? Did he even still love her? All these questions and more raced through his mind with no answers in sight.

Thankfully, though, she spoke first as she pulled away. "You're welcome to stay, too, if you want," she said gently. "I have a spare room in the back, or you can have my bed. I won't mind sleeping on the floor for one night."

He shook his head. "If one of us gets a bed, it's you," he insisted. "And don't argue this with me, because you won't win."

Éponine chuckled. "Alright, if you insist. Come on, I'll show you where the room is."

In just a few minutes, Enjolras had gotten comfortable for the night, but he couldn't seem to go to sleep. After several minutes of tossing and turning he sat up in the bed, running his hands over his face. What was it about sleeping at her apartment that was so...weird? There was nothing going on between them; she was just being hospitable. Perhaps he would say something to her tomorrow after the boys left…yes, that was a better plan.

He lay back down and shifted onto his side with a sigh, closing his eyes. Slowly, he fell asleep.

He did not dream.

A/N: Don't worry, guys; the long-awaited Enjonine reconciliation is coming soon, I promise! Please let me know what you think :)