A/N: Holy wow, thank you for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites! I'm truly amazed at how this story has taken off, and I can't thank everyone enough who's chosen to follow along. :)

Disclaimer: Les Misérables is copyrighted to and belongs to Victor Hugo. I'm just playing in his sandbox and receive no financial gain from this. Rats.

Chapter 6

"What a life I might have known..."
-Les Misérables

The following day saw Éponine meeting the revolutionary more appropriately, though her hosts didn't know any better. For her part, Éponine hoped it would remain underwraps; she had no interest in being cast out for acting 'inappropriately' in her first week at the Pontmercies and when, as far as she was concerned, she had done nothing wrong.

Marius and Cosette led her towards Enjolras's room in the late afternoon following Marius's return from university. Cosette had informed Éponine earlier that morning that their second guest "seemed well enough to receive another visitor" and that she would get to meet him later in the day.

Marius led the way and knocked on the door before entering, opening it following a soft reply to "Come in." They found Enjolras laying upright in bed with a few opened books scattered upon his duvet. He had one in hand and paused to raise his head and greet them properly. Éponine noted that he was no longer wearing a night shirt but a handsome-looking blue and green-striped vest, with buttons down the front, and a neatly pressed shirt.

He didn't do that for my benefit, did he? she worried fleetingly.

Enjolras projected a soft smile of greeting, though Éponine could tell the warmness wasn't reflected in his gaze. She suspected he probably would have rather remained undisturbed and was merely indulging Marius's insistence that he acquire more company and conversation.

"Enjolras, this is Éponine, whom we are taking in. You remember her, yes?"

Éponine couldn't help but blush at the ridiculousness of the situation. They had already been introduced to one another, and not in the preferred manner; but if Enjolras was on the same train of thought as she, he displayed no awkwardness. Instead, he bowed his head courteously with a small smile.

"Mademoiselle," he replied, his address every ounce the gentleman. "You'll have to excuse the circumstances. According to the doctor, I'm not well enough to venture out of bed yet."

"I understand, Monsieur. I hope you're well?"

Éponine returned his gentle smile and attempted to curtsey, though she felt rather foolish for even trying. Not only had he already seen her in a far less presentable state, but she also had a long way to go before she would ever feel much at all like a lady.

"As well as can be expected for what I've been through," Enjolras returned, his features solemn and poised.

Marius gestured for Éponine to have a seat in the sofa chair she had previously occupied. Another chair had evidently been brought in at some point, for Cosette took a seat on the opposite side of the bed, leaving Marius to stand beside Éponine.

Enjolras shuffled to remove some of the books he had spread out when Cosette touched his arm and quietly reassured him all was fine to leave be. He conceded without a word and fell back against his propped pillows, turning his uncomfortable attention towards Éponine, now toying with her fingers in her lap.

"Are you settling in well?" he casually asked.

"I am, Monsieur, thank you."

"Monsieur Gillenormand's estate is quite a sight."

"It is, indeed, yes."

"Have you taken a stroll through the gardens?"

"She and Cosette have taken several walks," Marius inserted with a pleasant grin. "I believe Éponine may come to feel quite at home soon, won't you?"

Éponine peered up at Marius and consented with an affirmative nod. "Yes, Monsieur Marius, I do very much love it here."

Cosette leaned forward in her chair. "We're delighted to have you, Éponine."

Éponine met Cosette's kindness with another polite smile, though her brown eyes quickly darted to Enjolras, who was surveying her rather curiously; or, at least, with some peculiar interest. Was it because she was actually presentable today, wearing a finely tailored, pale green dress rather than her dirty old rags? Her long, shoulder-length hair was tied back in a bun with a few loose waves in front that lovingly framed her face. Éponine was amazed daily by her transformation and sometimes hardly recognized herself. She could only assume it must be the same for the young gentleman to take her appearance in as well.

At least it isn't my nightgown this time, her conscience scathingly reminded her.

"I understand you're to be given an education?" Enjolras pressed quietly, keeping his blue irises focused on her.

To this, Cosette giggled and interjected before Éponine could speak, "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Enjolras, but I certainly intend to do my utmost best."

"I look forward to your instructions, Madame."

"Proceed with caution," Enjolras leaned closer and nodded towards the blonde beauty to his left. "Madame Pontmercy can be overzealous and passionate when it comes to the art of dancing. As I understand it, she proved quite the sight at her own wedding and left her poor husband to look like a great buffoon. Frankly, I'm sorry to have missed it."

"That's a load of rubbish!" Cosette tittered, squeezing Enjolras's arm teasingly as she gazed across the bed at Marius, who was also laughing along and shaking his head. "Marius did a splendid job. I didn't outshine anyone."

"No, I'm afraid Enjolras is right, my dear." Marius's freckled face turned a shade redder, and Éponine would have normally found it captivating, only she was rather curious about the subtle change she had seen in Enjolras's regard. "I have what can only be described as wobbly knees. Cosette led me around the room rather than vice versa."

"All the same," Cosette continued to giggle and blush, "I'm not nearly as good, nor enthusiastic, as Enjolras or my husband would lead you to believe."

Éponine merely smiled back. Whilst trying to appear interested in the happy bantering going back and forth, she wasn't particularly keen on hearing the details of Marius's wedding day. It may not have stung her as much as she expected it to, which admittedly felt a bit odd, but she still didn't want to hear more. Then again, Éponine concluded, she must slowly but surely be coming to grips with what was never to be; or else, numbing herself to the reality at long last.

"I still look forward to learning," she confided in a dreamlike whisper. "I'm quite ignorant in the ways of the world."

"No, you aren't, Mademoiselle," Enjolras surprised her by insisting, the intensity of his gaze softening; or perhaps it was only her imagination. "You've only been privy to the underbelly—a much different side—is all. Now it's your opportunity to see the better half, une vie meilleure." *

Éponine found her smile extending at such a rich possibility. "Yes..." she concurred. "I'm very much looking forward to it..."

Enjolras's eyes flickered and she found herself a bit shaken once they pulled them to look at Cosette. "Will you be instructing her in reading and writing as well?"

Éponine blinked. Ahhh, clever, she wanted to snicker and did her best not to.

"I confess, I think Éponine would do much better with a tutor rather than myself," said Cosette. "We'll certainly practice together, but I'm afraid I might prove very poor at instruction in that regard, particularly when it comes to writing. My father was always a much better instructor than I could be."

"Nonsense, love," Marius insisted with feeling, causing his wife to blush prettily.

It was then that Enjolras set forth the proposal he had arranged with Éponine in private. "I could instruct her, if you'd like?" He turned his attention from his good friend to Cosette and back again, noting the surprise on both of their faces. "It would save you money and time investing in a tutor, and it would give me something to do as long as I'm to be held hostage here."

Marius chuckled. "No one's holding you hostage, my friend, but... Erm, would you really like to?"

Enjolras's eyes fell upon Éponine again, and she couldn't help but be drawn in. No one but Marius had ever shown an ounce of interest in her person, whether as a street rat who could run errands or a lady-in-the-making who needed improving. It was admittedly a welcoming change, and there was also the fact that Enjolras wasn't half bad a sight to behold.

"If Mademoiselle is comfortable with the arrangement?" he asked her directly.

Éponine quickly looked to Cosette, who seemed to illustrate nothing less than encouragement, so she nodded compliantly and smiled. She certainly preferred the idea of learning from Enjolras than Cosette. As sweet and gentle as she was, and they had been getting along splendidly since her arrival, the lingering jealousy and unhappiness that sometimes plagued Éponine in her presence only served to cycle her guilt, and make her feel worse. She couldn't confound how being around Cosette even more would somehow lessen the ill feelings and welcomed Enjolras's instruction gladly.

Yes, learning from Enjolras would be preferable.

"Thank you, Monsieur. I would appreciate that very much."

"It's settled then," Marius issued happily as Enjolras and Éponine held eyes only for each other for a moment, though it seemed to stretch out for much longer.

Enjolras was the first to glance away. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, leading Éponine to a chance a question before he could speak.

"How are you feeling, Monsieur, since the, well, erm..."

Éponine cut herself off. Was it even appropriate to touch upon the subject of the barricade yet, and what had occurred? Everyone situated in the room had lasting ties to the tragedy, but judging by Enjolras's expression, which had intensified, she regretted opening her mouth at all.

"I'm well enough, thank you," he replied through a tightened jaw, which, to Éponine, spoke volumes; she had overstepped her boundaries, and she couldn't blame him for clamping up on her.

"I'm glad to hear it," she whispered, hoping the subject would be dropped. It seemed Marius had a different idea in mind, however.

"You should hear Éponine's story, Enjolras! You remember what happened that night? I thought..." He peered down at Éponine, his expression grave. "I thought she died in my arms. Here, she was alive. One of the ladies tended to her wounds. We were all so sidetracked by everything else going on that we... We failed to recognize that she was still breathing."

"It's hardly anyone's fault," she quietly urged. She caught the strange glimmer in Enjolras's eyes, however. "Please don't take it to heart, Monsieurs. It's a miracle I made it till dawn, and you had your revolution to think of."

"Yes," Enjolras murmured, though he sounded thoroughly dismayed all of a sudden. "All the same, Éponine, we did fail you. You should've been taken to a doctor straight away."

"And how would you have proposed that be done, Monsieur," Éponine attempted to reassure the now distraught-looking gentleman, "with the soldiers surrounding your barricade, waiting until dawn to attack you?" She gave a decided shake of her head. "No, Monsieur, there's no way any of you could have taken me to a doctor without risking your own lives."

"Enjolras has a point, though," Marius too insisted with a critical frown. "We could've tried, Éponine. Honestly, we truly thought you were dead. I... I'm sorry..."

"As am I," came Enjolras's shocking apology. Éponine couldn't understand why. The man had barely noticed her before, if at all, and she couldn't say that she blamed him; but she accepted his apology with a soft, grateful smile.

"Thank you, both of you. It's quite all right, though. Please don't be so hard on yourselves."

"If I may be so bold as to ask, how did you break free?" Enjolras asked after a long pause, as everyone looked on. The Pontmercies had heard the story before, but Enjolras hadn't, and he was scanning her face, looking freshly intrigued.

Éponine explained everything that she could remember from that fateful day. When she was through, Enjolras's brow was furrowed as he seemingly struggled to ask her another question.

"Do you recall who told you to get out and get somewhere safe?"

"No, Monsieur. I wish I did. I'd thank him in a heartbeat. I remember blacking out throughout the night, and when things started going awry, whoever the gentleman was shook me awake, allowing me to escape."

Marius had moseyed over to Cosette to touch her shoulder, and her hand slid up to interlock with his. "You certainly had angels looking out for you, Éponine," she whispered, in awe, before glancing at Enjolras and her husband as well. "You all did that day."

The two fine-looking men in the room said nothing, only regarded each other with a silent, mutual understanding, before their attention returned to Éponine. Her eyes settled upon Enjolras—on that guarded, elegantly-carved face—and she was nearly startled by what he conveyed next.

"It was me, Éponine," he admitted so quietly it almost bypassed her ears. "I told you to get somewhere safe. I confess, your presence startled the hell out of me, but there wasn't much time to take in the reality that you were still alive, crawling on all floors towards the opposite side of the barricade...

"I tried to lead you out, but then... Well, I was easily diverted by other things happening all around me, so I'm glad to learn that you made it out safely."

"It - It was you?" She couldn't prevent her mouth from dropping like a codfish.

No wonder his words sounded so familiar, Éponine reflected, remembering how she had caught him in the midst of a nightmare a few days earlier, and how his command in the dark, and even in sleep, sounded eerily familiar to her ears.

"Yes," he confessed softly.

"You knew that she lived?" Marius and Cosette were looking on in shock again, until Enjolras explained the situation to all.

"No, on the contrary, I didn't anticipate she'd make it. I saw Éponine trying to get out, that was all. When everything was chaotic and... And falling apart," he finished through a strained voice, "I figured, until she came to you, that she must not have made it..."

For a moment, everyone was quiet, until Éponine surprised them, but especially Enjolras, by leaning in and smiling at him. "Well, I didn't think you made it either, Monsieur. We really did have angels on our side, didn't we?"

Slowly, Enjolras nodded, and, what Éponine was coming to know as a rarity, his blue eyes smiled as well. "Yes, indeed, Mademoiselle," he concurred, his expression thoughtful. "I wouldn't call myself fortunate, but, for you, yes..."

That caused Éponine's smile to sink, as did Marius's and Cosette's. "Don't say such things, Enjolras," Marius started before Cosette quietly silenced him with a squeeze of her hand.

Éponine swallowed the urge to suddenly wish to take the man's hand. She planted her hands firmly together in her lap, her brown eyes warm and kind as they could be.

"Perhaps one day you'll feel differently, Monsieur," came her gentle remark, exclusively for Enjolras's ears, as Marius was engaged in a private conversation with his wife. "After all, God works in mysterious ways, but He always has a reason for why things happen as they do."

Enjolras's sandy-colored eyelashes caught the breathtaking sunlight peeking through his window. "I know nothing of your life, Éponine, but I imagine it hasn't been easy." He paused, his eyes searching hers. "After everything you've been through, including your...heartache, you're telling me you still believe in God?"

Éponine stared at him, breathless for a moment, before a genuine smile spread across her lips. "Yes, Enj—Monsieur," she corrected herself in front of her hosts, now watching them and listening in on their conversation. "You survived, as did I. Perhaps we aren't meant to know why, but there's surely a reason in it. Consider it another one of God's mysterious acts of mercy."

After a lengthy pause in which the two soaked in one another's understanding expression, Enjolras seemed to consent quietly to Éponine's words. "Well, for both of our sakes," he answered, his voice much quieter than before, "I hope you're right..."

"Was my instruction too overwhelming, Éponine?"

"No, not at all, Mad—Cosette. It just feels...strange to me is all."

"I know. I still remember the first weeks I spent with my father. I didn't know there was a proper way to sit or dine or what have you. It took some getting used to."

"I... I really am not much of a lady, I'm afraid," Éponine giggled away her nerves as best she could, keeping pace with Cosette as they mindlessly strolled through Monsieur Gillenormand's garden. Now that September had rolled in, the days were warm but no longer overbearing. "I mean, not that I didn't know before that I wasn't... I - I'm just embarrassed at my, erm, lack of proper etiquette, I suppose."

"You put too much emphasis on memorization," Cosette tittered, her laughter light and airy—even prettier, Éponine wanted to mope—than her own. "Once you become familiar and practice, it will be second nature to you, I promise."

"I hope so..."

Cosette turned her head and smiled encouragingly. "How are you liking it here?"

It had been nearly two weeks since Éponine's arrival, and she never would have considered staying this long in another person's home, let alone someone of such wealth and stature. On the one hand, Éponine felt as awkward and at odds with the miraculous change that had befallen her as ever. On the other, she could attest to her heart's growing attachment to the place. The awareness manifested mostly when left to her own devices, allowing Éponine to wander the halls filled with awe-inspiring artwork, busts and sculptures, and, of course, the colorful garden that had become hers and Cosette's frequent midday stroll.

Éponine was also—slowly—becoming fond of Cosette as well. Giving up the skeptic angle that it all had to be pretense, Éponine fell into a comfortable rhythm with her newfound friend and, although still reluctant and shy, she tried her utmost best to open herself up to Cosette's friendliness and thoughtful instruction. Cosette would explain in great detail the duties and expectations of a lady, correct Éponine's decorum without putting her down, and engage her so easily in bettering herself that Éponine sometimes could hardly believe the transformation taking place.

Today, she returned Cosette's genuine smile, which illustrated her answer to the lady's question. They paused near an overgrown hedge of yellow roses that were beginning to show their signs of the coming autumn season and sat together on a stone bench, taking in the lush greenery that would, before too long, wither and die.

"I'm liking it here very much," Éponine confessed, lacing her hands together and doing her best not to slouch; it was considered 'unladylike' to not maintain proper posture, or so she had been informed numerous times in the short span she had been practicing. No one ever told her growing up that she slumped her shoulders and walking with no pride or dignity in her step. Perhaps it was the weight of her former life that allowed for such behavior to go uncorrected...

"Oh! I nearly forgot to tell you," Cosette piped up excitedly, "your books should be arriving today."

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

Éponine could barely contain her enthusiasm any longer. She had wanted to get started straight away, but without the reading material needed for practice, Enjolras and Cosette had to discuss what books to purchase. Her mind had been too preoccupied to even entertain the idea of money, and, thus, Éponine tried to refuse the Pontmercies paying for her books and supplies, but she was swiftly overruled. Marius ordered the books whilst away at the university, and, since then, it had been utter torture waiting for them to arrive.

Until Éponine recently realized that it wasn't the books alone that had her so anxious...

"Éponine?"

Éponine blinked. Cosette was eying her with concern, and she blushed at allowing herself to get caught up in her private thoughts.

"Sorry," she hastily apologized, "I was just thinking how I can't wait to get started. I... I hope it isn't too late."

"Nonsense, Éponine, it's never too late to learn."

That made Éponine's soft smile widen. A heavy burden somewhere was lifting in her heart. It would take a great deal more care and effort to completely let go of her past and embrace her brighter future, but Éponine could sense the shift occurring, and each passing day brought with it more hope and more reason to hope.

It's not merely this lifestyle though, is it, Éponine? You're curious about that gentleman, that Enjolras, aren't you?

"Enjolras is a far better suitor to tutor you," Cosette continued, unmindful of Éponine's musings; or were they concerns? "I'm so glad he volunteered. He's receiving an education himself, so you'll learn so much from him."

"I daresay I will."

"When he and Marius were going over what books to purchase, I must confess I haven't seen Enjolras so..." Éponine raised her eyebrows, waiting. "Enthusiastic is probably the wrong word, but I'll have to go with it for lack of a better one. Enjolras can be so comically serious," Cosette giggled and pressed a hand to her mouth. "Not that I blame him, considering what he's gone through, but, well, excitement isn't an expression in him I've seen since he came here. I think his tutoring you may very well help him as much as you."

"Help him?" Éponine angled her head curiously. "How so?"

"Considering how down Enjolras has been, I think your tutoring sessions will give him something to do. Marius mentioned 'purpose' to me before... We both believe it will not only give him something to occupy his time with, but he may feel like he has purpose again. I hope it boosts his spirits; Marius and I both would love to see him engage in life again..."

"Oh! Well, yes, I would like that very much too."

"I didn't know Enjolras at all before he came here, but, if I'm to go by Marius's explanations, as well as my own instincts and insight, I think he could use with finding some meaning again."

Cosette's eyes turned away from Éponine, and the sadness that reached the young lady's face matched Éponine's as well. The former, less ladylike girl of the streets was no longer aware of slouching, her body language pairing with the unhappy frown she displayed.

"One can only imagine how he must be feeling..."

Of course, for Éponine, that wasn't entirely true. She had already gathered a great deal on her own how Enjolras was feeling by the continuous night terrors he had—and which she overheard nightly. His lack of outgoing demeanor further attested to how depressed and withdrawn the once passionate revolutionary had become. Not that Éponine saw him often, but the few encounters she had had thus far were heartbreaking, and at the same time, intriguing.

"Perhaps you'll bring him out of his shell," Cosette offered lightly, her upbeat countenance returning. "I know Marius, for one, would like to see his friend smiling again, as would I."

"Yes..." Éponine murmured with a faraway look in her eyes.

Cosette's sudden burst of laughter recaptured her attention. When she met Cosette's face, she found the blonde shaking her head, but teasingly.

"You're slouching again, Éponine," she tried to reprimand, though she was giggling too much for her vigilance to be taken seriously.

Éponine smiled and straightened. "I'm sorry," she readily laughed along. "This is all just so..."

"Peculiar? You've never had anyone to tell you otherwise, Éponine. It's quite all right."

Slowly, they rose and made their way back to the house. It was only once Éponine had a few quiet moments to herself whilst Cosette and an arriving doctor checked in on Enjolras that her mind wandered back to their short conversation in the garden.

Purpose? Éponine's brow knitted, her mouth forming into a tight, concentrated grimace. But he had been so charismatic and passionate once... It's people like me who feel as he does—hopeless and defeated; he has the advantage of opportunity, money, an education... Surely, he'll find his purpose again. I have very little to do with that.

What's your purpose, Éponine? she found herself asking as she gazed out the window, looking pensive and unsure. Éponine exhaled, releasing her built up frustrations. To move past your heartache... To find joy and peace. Yes... Éponine's frown deepened as she thought on the once charismatic, curly-haired gentleman laying physically wounded and spiritually broken upstairs. Shouldn't that be his focus as well? Yes, it should. Perhaps we're not so different at all, him and I...

Éponine aimlessly wandered back to her room without the intention of heading in that direction. She probably could have found something to occupy her time with while Cosette and the doctor were otherwise engaged, but the few times she passed Molly, the maid, either heading towards the kitchen or coming and going from the parlor where she found herself pacing, the disgusted sneer the old woman projected was enough to send Éponine scurrying elsewhere. It was these moments that reminded Éponine—or brought her to the sorry conclusion—that she was acting a fool. She was half tempted to rip the alluring, maroon dress she was wearing right off, or toss her shoes aside and at least walk barefoot again.

This wasn't her life. You'll adapt, she would tell herself when the anxiety hit, always unexpectedly. She was disguising herself as something better than who she actually was. Cosette was once as you are now. Don't be ridiculous.

Éponine had reached the top of the landing on the second level and was about to head off in the direction of her quarters when Cosette called to her from down the hall. She was standing just outside Enjolras's bedroom with the door ajar, and Éponine made her way down the darkened corridor in haste.

"Is something wrong?" she inquired once she reached Cosette's side.

"No, not at all," she whispered back, gesturing towards her guest inside the room.

Enjolras was laying in bed as usual but his eyes were shut; he didn't seem aware of her or Cosette standing in the doorway, quietly observing him and another figure in the room, an elderly gentleman dressed in a fine, black waistcoat and bushy mustache: the doctor. He was seated on the bed next to Enjolras and had his patient's night shirt opened, exposing Enjolras's lightly furred chest.

Éponine's eyes immediately zoned in on the two prevalent wounds on his chest and abdomen. The one on his chest was particularly gruesome, though not festering, as the doctor dabbed at the scarred skin gently with a washcloth, using a nearby bowl to repeatedly cleanse the wound as he thoroughly examined his patient.

"Do you have a similar wound?" she was vaguely aware of Cosette inquiring.

"I... Yes..." she answered, not following Cosette's train of thought.

"I thought perhaps you might want Dr. Roux to examine you whilst he's here?"

"Oh!" Eponine adamantly shook her head. "Thank you, but I'm quite all right."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, but thank you."

"Very well." Cosette's blue eyes returned to Enjolras, as did Éponine's, which had hardly looked away from the bullet wounds since catching sight of them. "The one bullet nearly severed his collar bone. Dr. Roux said one or two inches higher and he's not sure what anyone could have done for him..."

As the silence stretched between the two women watching the doctor's examination, Cosette leaned into Éponine and daintily touched her arm. "I thought you might keep him occupied for a time this afternoon? I need to run an errand in town with Molly; I won't be long."

Éponine nodded her compliance, though her eyes never averted from the pale man slumbering quietly, his wounds exposed for all to see. "Of course, as you wish." She was quite taken aback by the extensiveness of Enjolras's injuries. She suspected they had to be quite bad, but her suspicions paled to what her eyesight was soaking in. "He's lucky to be alive. How on earth did he manage to get away?"

It was a question she hadn't meant to utter aloud, though the mysteries surrounding Enjolras's remarkable escape lingered and were gossiped throughout the house. It was then that Enjolras's heavy eyelids opened, if only halfway, and Éponine found herself on the receiving end of an unappreciative glare that made her cheeks burn.

"With difficulty," Enjolras surprised them both, his voice slightly hoarse but loud enough to be heard across the room. "And thank you, but I have no need for a caretaker to keep an eye on me whilst you're out, Madame Pontmercy."

To this, both Cosette and the doctor laughed in unison, and it was Éponine alone who picked up on Enjolras's ill temperament. The doctor shook his head and continued his examination, spreading a disinfectant on the wounds that made Enjolras wince and hiss through his teeth.

"You sly fox," Cosette carried on tittering; Éponine, however, went stiff as a board. "And here, we thought you were sleeping and would allow us to gossip about you in peace!"

Enjolras seemed to be trying not to recoil from the doctor's ministrations, and his upper body tensed as he made to keep his steady gaze. "I prefer candidness to roundabout whispers."

Cosette shook her head and walked into the room with Éponine following quietly behind. "Are we finished?" Enjolras pressed the doctor, finally turning his attention to the man seated next to him.

"Not quite, Monsieur. The wounds aren't festering and the stitches are holding, which are good signs, but they're still in need of more healing. I need to re-patch them yet before we're through."

Enjolras made a disgruntled face that Dr. Roux didn't catch. He fell back against his pillows and slowly eyed Éponine, who was unaware that she had resumed staring at the torn, reddened flesh from whence the bullets had entered. She had also unconsciously touched her stomach, which Enjolras's eyes trailed to, an understanding dawning on his sharp features.

"Your wound?" he quietly gestured with a slight nod of his head.

"Yes," Éponine returned, quickly moving her hand away. "I - I'm sorry, Monsieur."

Enjolras gave her a befuddled lookover. "Whatever for?"

"For your..."

She motioned towards his own visible injuries, disheartened and sympathetic, and neither said a word about it. There didn't appear to be any need for remarks.

"Thank you, Mademoiselle..."

Éponine forced a weak smile, one which Enjolras couldn't return; she understood why and took no offense when he turned away from her. He closed his eyes and allowed Dr. Roux to begin wrapping his wounds in fresh bandages. Cosette silently moved closer to Éponine to reiterate her request that she stay with Enjolras a while.

"Are - Are you sure?" Éponine wasn't nervous about staying put; rather, she preferred to respect the man's wishes if the he wanted to be left alone, as expressed already. "Monsieur said—"

"I know, but he shouldn't be left alone too long. I'd prefer, with you here, if you stayed with him...if you're willing?"

"Very well," Éponine complied and quietly took a seat in the same sofa chair she had secretly sat in before.

Within a half hour, Dr. Roux completed his examination and softly gave instructions to Cosette on keeping the bandages clean. He also prescribed several tonics for pain that he placed on the end table for future use. All the while, Enjolras's eyes never reopened, his body lax and as comfortable-appearing as could be, though Éponine suspected he wasn't actually asleep but pretending to be.

Finally, Cosette escorted Dr. Roux out of the room and down the hallway. It was only once their footsteps faded away that Éponine re-shifted her position in order to get comfortable, when Enjolras's voice suddenly filled the void, half frightening her out of her chair.

"You needn't stay."

Once she recovered, Éponine narrowed her eyes reprimandingly. "With all due respect, Monsieur, was that really necessary?"

Enjolras looked on, confused. "Was what necessary?"

"Pretending to tune the doctor out?"

To that, Enjolras's entire face relaxed. "I haven't the slightest inkling of what you're talking about."

"Quite." Éponine watched Enjolras sigh and turn his head away from her. "You need to listen to him, you know, or you'll never recover."

"Oh?" Enjolras may not have been looking at her, but his tone was scathing. "Are we an expert on the practice of medicine?"

"I... No..."

"Then do not speak on a matter you know nothing about."

"Fine, suit yourself."

Éponine folded her arms over her chest and defiantly turned towards the window, where very little sunlight peeked through the gray clouds. The overcast skies seemed to set the mood rather well; or perhaps it was a happy coincidence. Either way, Éponine let the silence linger for a time, until she was sure Enjolras was asleep and she could return her attention to him without getting caught staring.

Instead, Éponine was startled to find him blatantly watching her. His eyes were heavy from very little sleep—she knew the source of that—and the bags beneath them were quite harsh from such a close proximity. Her expression immediately softened and she leaned forward in her chair, her arms still crossed.

"It's all right, Mon—"

"Enjolras," he interrupted in a whisper, "remember? You may call me Enjolras when not in other company..."

"Well, I suppose now that we're alone that's appropriate." She smiled as warmly as she could, whilst Enjolras continued to roam over her face, though she couldn't decipher what he was thinking. "It's all right, Enjolras. Go to sleep."

Enjolras pressed her with a question of a personal nature, though. "Do you ever dream about the trauma?"

Éponine could only guess that it lack of sleep that was the cause for the very private and reserved gentleman she had always gathered Enjolras to be asking such a question. However, she didn't object to his prying and bowed her head in acknowledgment.

"Yes... Quite often. I dream of many things that have happened in my past..."

Enjolras didn't answer right away. His eyelashes fluttered a few times and he kept his focus on her as much as possible.

"Are you ever afraid to go to sleep at night?"

"Yes... All the time."

Without saying a word, Éponine wholeheartedly understood what Enjolras wanted to convey but, even when sleep-deprived, couldn't bring himself to confess: it was the same for him. The vulnerability barely perceivable behind the icy, blue eyes made Éponine's chest constrict. Quietly, she reached out her hand but the reality of what she was doing caught her off balance, and she hastily withdrew the gesture of wanting to touch him—perhaps his hand or his arm.

"It's all right, Enjolras," Éponine insisted, her voice soothing, though near breakable. "Try to relax and empty your mind. Don't think about what may happen, just allow your mind to wander."

"That simple, is it?" he murmured, his eyes drifting shut, but not before catching Éponine's returning smile.

"Nothing's that simple, but it's worth a try."

It wasn't long before Enjolras's breathing steadied, rising and falling in an even rhythm. Éponine fell back in her chair, watching him sleep and uncertain of the warming exchange they had just shared.

* Translation: "...a better life."