Notes: Thank you so much to all the reviewers in the last chapter—frustratedstudent, Phoenixflames12, a whisper away, EbonieCourfeyrac, Musichetta, and Deadtom77. I hope you like this chapter as well:)

BARRICADE

CHAPTER VII

A special thank you to Musichetta, who has been historically fact-checking this story. Thanks for pointing out the (sometimes many) inaccuracies—this chapter is dedicated to you

There are two kinds of heartbreak.

Sometimes when a heart breaks it shatters, into forty thousand pieces leaving broken glass and blood everywhere. But sometimes a heart breaks silently, leaving only quiet pain.

Éponine's heart does the latter now, as she watches Marius go to the wrought-iron gate of 55 Rue Plumet, place his hand against the bars, and whisper Cosette's name. So this is the lovely Cosette's new home—a beautiful, gated house concealed away by vines growing over the walls and an overgrown garden. It's old, dating from probably the nineteenth century, and looks out of place in its contemporary mid-twentieth century surroundings. The moonlight softly caresses the night-blooming flowers that fill the garden, making the entire home look like the penultimate romantic setting.

Then Cosette appears in her nightgown, smiling radiantly, and everything is perfect.

Well, perfect except for the girl in a black coat standing nearby in the shadows.

Éponine wishes with all her heart that this were a movie. That Marius and Cosette aren't really in love, that they're just actors playing out a script, and that this perfect garden and perfect house and perfect everything is all just part of the perfect set that Éponine designed. If this were a movie, Éponine would be controlling everything that goes on. All of the sweet words Marius and Cosette whisper to each other would be meaningless, and Éponine could capture all of this perfection with her camera.

The scene is perfect for a movie. Éponine can see it now, a New Wave film starring a young couple who court by moonlight, through an iron gate. Perhaps some sort of adaptation of Romeo and Juliet.

But this isn't a movie, and Éponine isn't a third-party observer with no connection to the scene. Well, she is a third-party observer; but unfortunately, she has plenty of emotional connection to both of the characters. Enough emotional connection that when Marius tells Cosette that she is the light of his life, her first reaction is not (like it would be normally) to gag at the cliché compliment. No, her first reaction is to let herself cry because when he says those words to Cosette and not her, it feels as though her heart is being ripped out from her chest.

For a while she watches them talk to each other, unable to hear a word they're saying as they murmur under their breaths. Then all of a sudden Marius's voice raises slightly, just loud enough so that Éponine can hear. "But Cosette, I love you," is what he says.

Éponine turns and runs. She doesn't hear anything else.

She has been running for about half an hour when she finds herself in front of Shakespeare and Co., and she contemplates going back inside to the comfort of her bed. But when she takes out her key and moves to unlock the door, she finds she can't. Or she doesn't want to, she's not really sure which. Either way, she moves away from the door, and keeps running. She crosses the Seine, and slows to a walk, charting a course to the Palais Garnier opera house. The opulent Beaux-Arts building has always fascinated her, and if she goes there she can maybe scout out some locations for her upcoming thesis film for her classes. Then at least the whole night won't be a waste.

She turns onto the Rue de Rivoli and begins making her way towards the Avenue de l'Opera, passing by the flats where richer students reside. It's much darker now, past midnight, and even though Éponine has lived on the streets and can take care of herself, she still tenses up slightly when she sees a shadow of a person behind her. A glance over her shoulder tells her that there is a man following her, and so she crosses the street.

The man crosses the street as well.

Now Éponine is beginning to panic as she tries to decide what to do. Deal with the problem, then ask questions later, her father's voice plays unbidden in her mind. She takes a deep breath and slows down a bit, allowing the man to catch up with her. Quick as a flash, she turns and hurls a punch into the man's gut, then follows it with a knee in his crotch. The uggg sound that follows as the man crumples to the ground is slightly familiar, and Éponine, satisfied that the man is sufficiently disabled, asks him angrily, "What are you doing?"

The man rolls over, and familiar golden hair and blue eyes watery with pain peer up at her. "Dammit Éponine, that hurt," says the man, and Éponine realizes that she just punched Enjolras.

"What are you doing? Why are you following me?!" she snaps, as she does her best to wipe away the tears over Marius that she had unconsciously been shedding.

He reaches a hand up to her. "Help me up, Éponine." She does, and he leans against her as he hobbles a few steps. He winces. "Where did you…how the hell did you do that?"

Éponine shrugs. "You…you have to learn some things to survive sometimes."

Enjolras realizes that she has slipped back into her inscrutability, becoming enigmatic once more and that's all the answer he will get from her. "I wasn't following you or anything, I swear. I need to get back to my flat."

"Oh…I'll let you go then." But as soon as she does, he sways and falls over again, grimacing and clutching his side. Éponine realizes that maybe she hurt Enjolras a bit more than she intended to.

"I'm…I don't think I can make it on my own…" he grits his teeth, and Éponine can tell it pains him to admit his inability. So to save his the rest of his dignity, she slings one of his arms over her neck to stabilize him before he has to ask her for help. He smiles gratefully. "Thank you. My flat is here."

They turn into a building, and Éponine retrieves Enjolras's key to the flat, and they ascend the dimly lit stairs with some difficulty, Enjolras groaning the whole way. Éponine unlocks the door to his flat for him, and she leads him inside, now supporting all of his weight.

The cramped flat is a mess; papers litter the couch, the table, the bed…the mess reminds Éponine of the day she met Enjolras, when he had come into the shop looking for the Sartre book, his arms filled with the same mess that fills his room. The only neat part of the whole place is an ornate wooden floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, packed with books organized alphabetically by author—mainly about the French revolution, essays of various contemporary philosophers (including the Sartre he'd bought from Shakespeare and Co.) and histories of the government workings of France. There's not a single novel in the entire shelf, Éponine thinks at first—none of the romantic novels that her mother was obsessed with (and from where she had extracted her two daughters' names). Then, when she's helping Enjolras lie down on the couch, she glimpses a single thin volume of fiction, to the right of an extensive collection of Jean-Paul Sartre—William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. How appropriate, she thinks. Even the stories Enjolras reads pertain to revolution.

She goes to the tiny excuse for a kitchen that is connected to the bedroom (and the living room) and pours Enjolras a cup of water and gets him a sleeping pill and brings it all to him, where he is sprawled out on the couch. During the excitement of being followed and accidental near-murder of Enjolras, she had forgotten Marius and Cosette, but now that the calm has returned the pain comes back in full force.

She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, and Enjolras notices the whitening of her face. "Éponine?" he asks drowsily. "Are you all right?"

She shakes her head no.

"Is it Pontmercy?" he asks. When she doesn't answer he nods. "I knew it. He's an idiot. Blind. Can't see…what's right in front of him." He's nearly passed out now, thanks to the powerful sleeping pill.

Éponine wipes at her eyes by rote, even though they are dry. She has successfully drilled it into herself that emotion is a weakness, or so she thinks.

"'Ponine, I…"

Just the nickname 'Ponine kills her. It reminds her of the days of gold light. When her father was good and kind and they had money and she had pretty clothes. It reminds her of when Montparnasse was still 'Parnasse, an innocent boy quite similar to Marius and Enjolras and the rest of Les Amis—before he killed a man and became just another filthy member of the Patron-Minette.

This time when she wipes her eyes she finds there is something to wipe away.

"I have to go," she whispers, and she leaves—Enjolras with a broken rib, her with a broken heart.

Notes: Sorry for that ending...(please don't kill me!) But I hope you liked it, and please review! And now for a shameless bit of self-promotion heh...:) I will probably be posting soon an É/E ballet AU one-shot that I wrote for the lovely enjolrawr on Tumblr, so when I do I would appreciate it so much if you all would read and review? I'll let you know for sure when it's up:) And also, I've started a non-fanfiction writing blog: www . ink-well . weebly . com – just remove the spaces from the link:) I would be so grateful if you came and told me what you think of my normal writing over there.

Well! Now that the self-advertising is over (sorry if it seemed a bit narcissistic 0_0), thank you guys so much for the support on this story, and I hope you'll review this chapter. I love you all!