Hey you guys! I want to thank you all for your reviews! I was so happy to see people are enjoying the story! XD For the Guests who reviewed I thank you via this AN for I cannot send you a PM. ^^" But seriously I thank you all for your reviews, they really warm my heart.

Some reviewers said it was kinda scary last time, and I'm afraid more of them are going to come to pass, but never fear Les Amis will step in at some point! XD

Does anyone of you have the problem with typing Enjolras? I always find myself wanting to type Legolas! ^^" "Wrong book, wrong movie" I tell myself then. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.

Concrete Angel

Chapitre Six.

Her fathers footsteps echoed in her confused mind as Éponine lay on the dirty ground of the living room. The bald man was just strolling away as if nothing had happened and she cursed mentally for her lack of self-control. Normally she wouldn't let even her gravest of anger fits get the better of her, but she felt as if a special fire had been lit within her that night. She still felt it burning as her tired eyes followed her father until he disappeared upstairs where he loudly trudged to his bedroom. Only after she'd heard him fall onto his bed did she dare to try and sit up. Everything hurt and every muscle protested. Her lips, cheeks, belly, back and legs were severely bruised, and she could taste the metallic taste that came from the blood leaking from her burst lips. Flinching she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Everything hurt and she bit her lip not to whimper. She wouldn't let her father hear her silent cries. She leaned against the wall, trying to forget the pain that went through her when she did so, and trying to stop the shivering which always came after her father hit her. She hated herself for that. Wasn't she a tough girl? Wasn't she supposed to be used to it by now? Then why did her body still act as if it was something unusual while her mind cursed the normalcy of it all? Éponine looked up at the dirty ceiling, trying to fight back the tears that stung mercilessly behind her eyes. She wouldn't cry.

'Two more years.'

The thought was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing for the time she had to spend in the Thénardier house was shortening, but a curse for it made her feel somewhat hopeful. What if she didn't make it like she said she would? Perhaps her father's treatment wasn't all t hat different from other families? She mentally shook her head at this. No. It wasn't normal. The way he was acting was over every limit, and she shouldn't even be doubting whether or not it was correct, for it wasn't.

She heard the clock tick on. Second after second passed by and Éponine wondered what time it was, how long she'd been beaten up and how long she'd been sitting there without the courage or strength to move from her miserable spot.

From the distance her ears picked up a blessed sound. Silent, swift footsteps. And luckily only one pair at that.

"Éponine?"

That voice was blessed!

"A...Zelma." she managed to whisper through her burst lips and swollen cheeks.

"Mon Dieu Éponine." Azelma said, quickly making her way over to her older sister and kneeling beside her. "What has he done?" she whimpered, gently pushing Éponine's hair from her eyes and looking at her face.

"It's not so bad." Éponine managed to say in a weak whisper.

"Not so bad?" Azelma echoed, eyes filling with tears and her voice high. "'Ponine...you're bleeding. You look like a ghost, so pale you are!"

"Don't wake the fool." Éponine grumbled weakly, trying to shift her weight but finding that pain surged through her like wildfire.

"Don't move yet." her sister said in a fearful whisper. "I'll get you some painkillers. Just... Don't move."

"No problem." Éponine managed to say. Her sarcasm didn't seem lost under even the most trying of circumstances and she found herself smiling at it. Something she regretted almost immediately as her whole face burned with pain.

"Here." Azelma said quickly handing her a glass.

Éponine's fingers didn't seem to have the proper strength to hold it up though, and Azelma quickly grabbed hold of it and tilted it upwards so that her sister could take some hesitant gulps.

Pain went through her even as she did something as simple as that. Her jaw clenched painfully and the bruises on her back were constantly pressed against the wall. If she didn't move an inch, she found it bearable, but from the moment she had to shift even the slightest bit, it was like a knife was going through her. Mentally she counted herself lucky her father had yet to come up with that idea. She'd be sure to get herself and her siblings out of there before that happened though.

The fire she'd noticed from the moment she'd seen her father smiling to himself, happy with the money he'd earned himself had not diminished, and she found herself looking up at the stairs, a fire burning in her eyes.

"'Ponine?" her sister asked, the look in her eyes not lost on her. "What are you thinking of?"

Éponine turned her blazing, yet tired eyes to her younger sister, who seemed to be extremely bad at ease.

"Nothing 'Zelma." she whispered. "Just. How am I going to get upstairs?" A weak smile crept onto her face and Éponine cursed herself for smiling, it only made her face feel even more bruised.

"Do not worry 'Ponine. I'll help you."

"The kids?" Éponine spoke weakly, trying not to show her sister just how bad she felt at the moment.

"They're upstairs. Gavroche read to the youngest to get them to sleep before you even got home, so they didn't even hear what happened afterwards."

"How's Gavroche taking it?" Éponine asked as her sister helped her up onto her feet, something which hurt like hell, and once more Éponine found her eyes attracted to the stairs and the man who was sleeping there in his cosy bed.

Azelma regarded her sister somewhat scared. She was used to seeing her sister take a beating, she was stubborn after all, but she'd never seen the hate glow so apparent in her eyes, yet she could not turn away from the sight. It was as if her sister was turning into something else. As if things were changing, and she couldn't help but fear what was coming for them. If Éponine did get rebellious there would be a price to pay, and knowing their father, it wasn't going to be fun. On the contrary, she had heard when her father had taken out his cell phone, calling Montparnasse Senior, and she dreaded what was going to happen to her older sister who so selflessly protected them from her father's harsh, cutting words and his hitting fists and kicking legs. Even if he was unsteady on his feet because of the drinking he'd probably done, he still could throw a rather nasty punch. She had only lived through it once, and it was only one hit, for her sister had placed herself in-between her and their father, so she knew it hurt a lot. More than she could cope with.

Her eyes once more travelled to her sister who limbed next to her, her arm draped around Azelma's shoulders for support. Where and how her sister found the strength to not only put up with it for so many an occasion, but also stepping in for her and the boys...she could only have respect for her dark haired sister, and quietly she hoped that the flame she'd spotted in her sisters eyes would die out before it got her into too much trouble.

"What are you going to do about school tomorrow?" she asked, trying not to look at her sister.

"I'll just go. I have the paper delivery to do as well."

"Are you kidding? Have you seen your bruises?"

"No" Éponine smiled weakly "I have not."

"Listen to me 'Ponine, there is no way you'll be able to walk properly tomorrow. Just give it a rest, we'll write a note to school as well."

"'Zelma." Éponine spoke up in a tired, yet dominant voice "We don't have the luxury to stay home. I'll get through it. I promise."

But that promise, Éponine realised, was going to be hard to keep. It was late after midnight and they still had to take care of her injuries. There would be no time for her to get a lot of sleep, and she had to take on her classes."

"I'll take your paper deliveries as well." Gavroche announced as the two girls arrived in their shared bedroom.

"Gavroche, no, I'll be perfectly able to, ugh!" Éponine grumbled as she stiffly sat down on the bed.

"There's no way you'll be able to work like this!" Azelma said. "Gavroche, please take over her rounds, I'll see if I can take over your shift in the Diner."

"No, you cannot do that!" Éponine protested, taking off her shirt with Azelma's help. "It'll be too obvious. She's just been robbed and then I do not show up? The police will be standing at our front door before we know it that way."

Azelma and Gavroche turned silent. Their shared worst fear was to be separated from each other, and that was the precise reason why they'd kept everything silent for all those years, all the while knowing something had to be done to their parents' acting.

"If you feel up to it Gavroche, then please, take over my round in the morning, but I am going to show up for school and work afterwards, alright?"

The two younger siblings exchanged glances and then nodded silently as their older sister took the decision.

"We're in this together." Éponine started. "We'll see it through together."

A small smile crept up the faces of her siblings. It was but a small ray, but it was a ray of hope alright. They knew of Éponine's wish to get them all away and under her care, but they were being realistic and two years was still a long time, not to mention that the troubles weren't over then. After that, they'd have to cope with their parents' bad mood and probably with some excessive blackmailing from their part.

"Yes." Azelma suddenly said in her small voice "We'll get through this together."

The alarm clock went off too soon for Éponine's comfort. Azelma had only dared to go down and fetch her sister way past twelve o'clock in the evening. After that they'd had a lot of work just tending to the immense bruises the older Thénardier sister had suffered. By the time they'd been ready to treat them they were already turning a sickly purple, and putting some ointment on them had been hell for Éponine. Not only that, but Éponine had refused to take any more meds to ease her pain, telling them they were short on them as it was.

The dark haired girl grumbled as she slowly turned onto her bruised side to put off the damned machine, hoping her father wouldn't hear any kind of noise. He was certainly not a morning person, and she didn't need an extra beating to start off the day. Apparently he hadn't heard.

'Small favours.' Éponine thought annoyed as she struggled to sit up. Her whole skin felt like it was too small for her body, and her muscles protested heavily with every little move she wished them to make. She felt groggy, sleepy and sore all over, but she knew she had no choice. She couldn't stay home, for her father would somehow get it into his sick mind to enter her room and have one more round of beating her up. She'd noticed once that he liked it especially when he could aim for certain spots, and if she had to take a guess, he didn't need a lot of aiming to do. It felt like there were bruises everywhere.

"'Ponine?" Azelma's soft voice spoke up, and Éponine could hear her sister walk over to her bend over form.

She leaned heavily on her elbows, face in hands as she tried to gather all the courage she could muster. Tears stung behind her eyelids, but she refused to let it take over. She felt sick with every move and wanted nothing more than to vomit. Éponine raised her head and regarded her sister.

"How does it look?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

Azelma regarded her sister through sad eyes. "Well..." she started, regarding her sister's swollen face. "It's not blue..." she tried to lighten the mood with a small smile.

A sad smile and a humourless chuckle escaped the dark haired girl. "Ironic to say, but that really is a relief."

Azelma tried to stay strong. She tried her best not to let the tears which stung behind her eyes to get their way. She had to stay strong for her brave sister who looked so broken and tired, and whose body would take a lot of time to fully recover. Her face may not be blue, but her sisters tank top didn't conceal much, and the various bruises were a deep purple and looked horrible. If anyone was to see them...

"I'll get you some clothes." she spoke, walking over to the closet.

"Thanks." Éponine mumbled, not yet ready to pick herself up from her spot. "Where's Gavroche?"

"He left early." Azelma said, picking out a T-shirt and a long sleeved shirt. "He's got an extra round after all."

Éponine looked at the ground. She felt terrible for it. Now her younger brother had to work extra just because she'd been so...so...yeah, what had she been? Angry? Enraged? Stubborn? Maybe it was all her fault that they were now in this situation. That she sat on the edge of her bed covered in bruises and a lip which seemed to start to heal itself.

'Nature's wonders.' she thought with a small smile though she did not feel amused at all. Mother nature seemed ready for anything that came her way, and Éponine thought just how much it resembled her. No matter what had happened in the past, she'd always gotten through one way or another. Another weak chuckle, making Azelma look at her, clothes in hands.

"'Ponine...you better get up." she gently urged her sister, unsure whether or not to help her to her feet. How could she? The bruises were everywhere. How was she supposed to help her sister if she couldn't afford to touch her, lest she hurt her sister more?

"Yeah." Éponine said tiredly, pushing herself up from the bed and heading towards the small bathroom adjacent to their room. Once upon a time, when the world was a better place, it had been installed for her and Azelma. A girly bathroom, her mother had told them, just for them. Now the memory brought a bitter smile up onto her face, especially as she walked over to the mirror and saw her beaten up figure returning her gaze.

Despair overcame her as she regarded herself. The creature looking back at her was in every possible way beaten. Not only her body, but her mind was bloodied and bruised as well, and she realised this so much that it made her grit her teeth, trying to get herself angry again so that she wouldn't fall into the pit of self-pity or despair. She couldn't afford to fall into that endless pit. She somehow had to keep herself going, no matter how hard it may be. Her father, le conard could not be amused with her agony. She would under no circumstance show him any form of weakness or fear. If she did, it would be the death of her.

Silently Azelma passed her the ointment they had put onto it the day before, and evenly silent did Éponine start to put it onto the affected areas. She needed help when she had to treat her back though. Her shoulderblades had been hit as well, and there was no way she could reach them.

"It looks like he got your knee." Azelma said in a hushed tone.

Éponine looked down to where she was watching, and sure enough, her knee was blue and swollen. It explained why she couldn't stand steadily on her right leg.

"Looks like it." Éponine remarked, bending over slowly to put some ointment on her knee as well.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Azelma asked as her sister put on some make-up to cover up her swollen face. Though she didn't like it in the slightest, make-up really did the trick. No one would notice unless they both knew her really well, and regarded her closely.

Somehow Enjolras' face popped up as she thought about this, and she found herself believing that he, with his dark gaze, probably wouldn't miss it. She shook her head, albeit not too wildly, to get rid of the thought. She'd deal with it one way or another. If the need arose, she'd lie her way through. She'd done so once already, when a teacher was inquiring her about a bruise on her wrist which hadn't been totally covered by her shirt. She told her she fallen from her bike, and after half an hour of explaining the teacher finally let go of it.

Éponine remembered her walking home happily because of it, because of her getting away with getting hit at home. How strange the world was.

"If you're hurting too much please tell me." Azelma said as she sat on her own bike, regarding her sister wince as she herself mounted her bike.

"Don't worry 'Zelma." she spoke, trying to throw her sister an encouraging smile but which came out as a grimace. Everything hurt. Her getting seated on the saddle, her messenger bag hanging from her shoulder and over her abdomen and back, and even the stretching of her arms to grab the steer. Yet, she had decided to not show any pain or fear. "Let's go."

Azelma kept a good look on her sister as they advanced down the road. Soon it would go upwards and they would have trouble. On normal days they'd just get slightly out of breath for a minute or two, but she feared what it would be today. Sweat was already showing on her sisters face, and her eyes glowed from agony under her cap, yet her older sister didn't let out a moan or didn't wince at all. Once more Azelma felt her admiration for her sister grow as the older Thénardier kept on pedalling bravely.

They soon had to stop though, the road upwards was too heavy for her struck muscles and Éponine found herself catching her breath, all the while trying not to cry. She was stronger than this, she kept telling herself. But as she felt her jaw clench the pain hit her, and she felt miserable.

The pit of darkness, self-pity and agony kept glaring at her. So close it was. So close she was to falling into it. To falling prey for despair and a feast for mysery. It felt like the darkness was smiling down at her, a dark hand extended to her, encouraging her to give in. To give in to the sadness and the rage she felt.

Instead Éponine, being stubborn as she was, closed her eyes and bit down onto her already injured lip. She opened the wounds and tasted her blood. Her eyes filled with anger as she focussed her mind onto them.

It kept her from going insane, it kept her from giving up. It kept her from letting go of the small voice in her head that was hope.

'Two more years.' she repeated her mantra, getting onto her bike, and with the power not of an injured girl rode up the hill, a confident smile on her face as she pushed back her self-pity. The sun suddenly looked so clear. There was no way in hell she was going to give up. No way she was going to give in. No way she was going to fall into the pit of despair. She would live. She would see a tomorrow, a next week, a next month, a next year. She would go on. Her eyes went from the road up ahead to her sister. She would make it, not only for herself, but she would pull her siblings along with her. Towards a bright future.

'In two years.'

Translator notes.

Mon Dieu: My God.

Le Conard: The idiot (but harsher)

I know it's all hard, but I really think it needs some extra explaining just how hard it is for the Thénardier siblings not to give into despair. I guess that goes for anyone who's facing tough times, but let's be honest, their situation is not a normal one, so it's normal for them to want to give in sometimes.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter nevertheless of the angsty and depressing aspect and I really hope I can welcome you at the next chapter as well! XD Please leave a review if you thought it was good, or if you have some ideas. Who knows, perhaps it's the thing I'm looking for to make this story complete! ;-)