The Decade

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Dear Gabe,

I am not supposed to talk to you anymore, so I have decided to write letters. You will never get these, because I am not sending them. I understand why I am banned from having contact with you but I know that I will miss you very much. You, all of you, have been a part of my life for so long that I am at a loss with what to do now. I will need new friends, new people to rely on, but it's just so hard to trust others.

We had such grand plans for next year, going to college only half an hour apart. It would have been wonderful. I've ruined it all. What else can I say, but that I am a horrible person?

Look at me, dousing myself in self pity. I am thoroughly disgusted in myself.

I have taken all of you for granted, I never realized what I had until I lost it and now it is gone.

I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry.

It's too bad that you will never read these, that you will never know of my thoughts. But I suppose it's for the best, yes? I wish you could tell me that. I wish you could reassure me that this is the correct course of action.

If I don't hear from you, I guess it will be. I will never hold it against you, if you choose not to speak to me then I can only assume that it is what will benefit us both. I'm not going to try to contact you. I was told to stay away, and for you, I will. I promise. I will never, ever, speak to you again if that's what you want. I would give you everything to keep you happy. I would lay my life down at your feet.

Need a kidney? I've got two, it's alright, take both if you must.

Need eyes? I've seen enough, they're yours. I'm only sorry that they are not blue.

Need a heart? Take it, it's already yours.

I'm being very melodramatic, I know, but I'm trying to get my point across. Anything you want, it's yours. Just ask. Let me do something for you, let me try to recompense for what I have done.

I know you would never ask me for these things, that is why I'm so ready to give them to you. What can I give to you? What can I do to make you realize how I cannot survive without you in my life? I would-will die without you.

If you wish to forgive me, to miraculously accept the apology, the apologies, I gave to you last night, then I would be forever grateful.

I don't know what else to say.

It has only been a day and I already miss you.

I love you. I always will.

I think I always have.

Forever yours,

Eponine

Gavroche enters the Musain and looks around for his sister, cursing silently, under his breath. He's late and he knows it. Eponine's going to kill him. She hates it when he's late. It makes her worry.

As his eyes scan the small cafe, he notices that she has not arrived yet and he can take a deep breath. The fact that he has managed to get here before his sister by some miracle is amazing. It looks like fate is playing on his team today. The last thing he needs is to be chewed out by his older sister. Maybe he can be fake-disappointed in her, he never gets to do that!

He orders a coffee (planning on downing it before she shows up, otherwise she will harp on and on about the evils of it) and goes towards a table with two familiar people sitting around it.

"Hey guys," Gavroche greets Courfeyrac and Combeferre, "Fancy meeting you here."

The two men grin as the boy takes Enjolras' old spot at the table.

"Gav!" They both shout in unison.

"What are you doing here so early?" Courf asks, confused and happy. Everyone who knows him knows that he will never be out and about in public so early in the morning. Eponine got all of those genes.

"I'm supposed to meet my sister here, but it looks like she's late," Gav states, not even thinking of worrying about his sister. In his mind, she can defeat anyone and anything. It may be the little kid in him talking, but he whole-heartedly agrees.

Both Courfeyrac and Combeferre exchange loaded glances. Courf whistles lowly and 'Ferre murmurs, "So that's what that was about."

"What what was about?" He looks between the two older men in confusion, what was he missing?

"I think," Courf starts, "I think that Pony was here earlier."

"Then where is she now?" He questions, brows furrowed. He is still not following this.

"Well," 'Ferre drawls, "Enjolras was here too..."

"Oh." Slowly, the light begins to dawn.

"And he rushed out of here pretty quickly," Courf continues.

"Without telling us a thing, one second he was here, the next he was gone!" 'Ferre adds his two-bits in.

"We think that he saw Eponine."

"Oh." He says again and then takes a thoughtful sip of his coffee, "Well... They were bound to see each other again right?"

He's trying to be calm and happy for his sister (on the outside), but inside he is bouncing with joy. She was never the same after she and Enjolras broke up (for lack of a better term) and he knew she still missed him.

Yet, he was happier for more selfish reasons, as well. He had missed Enjolras who had been like a father figure to him. Not that Courfeyrac and Combeferre weren't father-like figures to him as a child, but Eponine had been like his mother, so obviously her closest male friend had been like his father. It had hurt when they'd split apart. It was like two parents going through a divorce, neither would see the other and the kids were the ones who suffered.

Gavroche didn't really see Enjolras much anymore, but back when they'd first split he would sneak over and beg Enjolras to come back. The boy was always adamant. Not unless Eponine specifically told him so and Eponine was adamant that the ball was in Enjolras' court. That her hands were tied and there was nothing to be done.

They were both hurt, he could see that now.

He only ever saw the other man in passing now, a few minutes here or there. A curt nod or "Hello" or "How are you?" nothing too big but he remembers because he loved Enjolras just like he loves Eponine and Azelma (who was not going to believe this when he talked to her tomorrow).

Gavroche leans back in his chair and grins at the other two men before taking another sip of his coffee, "This is going to be so awesome."

The other two nod, they could not agree more.

"So, why were you two here with Enjolras so early in the morning?" Gavroche questions, as he looks at his two of his favorite people in the whole world.

"'Ferre's morality finally caught up to him," Courfeyrac states simply with a cheeky grin.

Combeferre sighs and whacks the other man over the head, "It's just that... I think what we did was wrong. We had no right to interfere with their lives, they would have figured it out on their own. No matter how much Enjolras states he loves Amelie, there's still some part of him that will only ever love his Eponine. So I decided to right a wrong, so to speak, and I told him about seeing her the other day. I tried to get him used to the idea of seeing her again."

The truth was, he had seen Eponine, that day, before she was pushed into him. He saw the way she had been looking at Enjolras; it was like her whole world had just flipped around and then shoved back under her feet. He saw her realize that Amelie was with Enjolras. That they were together. It made him sick. It made him physically ill to think that he had been partly at fault that she'd been deprived of someone she had loved, leaned on. It made him realize that perhaps, in helping keep them apart, he had also assisted in wounding them, hurting them forever. He had seen the signs with Enjolras, but ignored them. The blonde man was with Amelie, he was happy. With Eponine the hurt had been more clear. They should have been together, he realized at that moment, and his morality crushed him.

Gavroche looks confused, "Wait, what do you mean? YOU'RE the reason that Eponine's been so unhappy? Why would you do something like that?"

All of a sudden Gavroche is no longer a grown man, he has become that little kid who will protect his older sister no matter what. In that second he forgets that he respects these two men who have always cared for him, he forgets that he loves Combeferre and Courfeyrac more than he loves his own parents.

He simply lets his emotions get control of him and he punches 'Ferre so hard that he breaks the older man's nose.

Courfeyrac holds up his hands in defense, "Don't attack," he leans back a little for good measure, "We had a good reason, or at least we thought we did, at the time. Come on, Gav, let's take 'Ferre to the hospital. I think you broke the poor dude's nose, I'll explain everything there."

Gavroche eyes them wearily, Combeferre is clutching his nose, blood seeping between his fingers while Courfeyrac is looking slightly panicked, before nodding in agreement, feeling bad that he broke his friend's nose, but still that raw anger and pain crashes through his system demanding justice.

What reason was good enough for taking away his sister's happiness? He thought she deserved every happiness that life had to offer because of just how much she had sacrificed for her siblings, for him, and here were two men he loved telling him that she hadn't been worth it at some point, probably because of a simple, stupid, mistake.

Dear Enjolras,

I found this picture of the two of us as I was cleaning out Gavroche's closet. He's going to college in a few weeks and I'm trying to get him organized. Can you believe it? My baby brother, going off to college?

But, back to the picture. It was one that I never knew he had. In fact, I'd never even known it was taken. In it, I am on your back and my leg is in that horrendous bright pink cast, so it must have been taken the summer when we were sixteen. I don't recognize the place, it must be someone's backyard for I can see a white picket fence.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. I suppose it's just because we look so happy.

I want to look that happy again.

She looks at him and he looks back at her. She is so... She doesn't have the word for what she is feeling at the current moment. It's like all the breath has left her body. It's like everything has stilled around them, like they are in their own little bubble.

She looks into those blue eyes that she loved (loves) so much and sees no fire in them, no passion to do what is right by others. He looks tired and worn. Silently she wonders what happened to the man who burned like the sun.

He takes a hesitant step forward and her first instinct is to take a step towards him as well, her second is to take a step back. Her third is to run to him and her fourth is stay put.

He is close enough to touch her face and she has really stopped breathing altogether.

She chooses option four, she will let him decide what he wants. She will not push him, she will not say another word, but somewhere inside of her she is crying with joy. Some part of her brain keeps repeating how he had called her "'Ponine" and her heart is telling her that she still loves him.

His arm twitches and then it reaches up and brushes a strand of dull brown hair from her face, his eyes never leave hers.

In that instant, she can see a spark.

He opens his mouth and half smiles, "Well look who it is," he whispers, trying to joke, failing. He opens and closes his mouth once more trying to find the words that have never deserted him before, while she does not move. She does not even try to speak.

Carefully, she fixes her face in a blank mask and just watches, waits.

It's too bad that he could always read her and it seems that is not something that has faded away, for even though she appears to be cold, his eyes slowly warm and the corners of his lips flick upward and he shows vulnerability, something he has been known to only show around her, "I missed you."

That is all it takes. Those three words are enough for her to launch herself into his arms, and cry out that she missed him too, and before she knows it they are both crying and laughing and his arms are around her, holding her close.

In that instant, everything is perfect.

She can forget the rest of the world, she can forget about Amelie and Sebastian. She can forget that she's supposed to be meeting with her brother right now. She can forget that they have changed in the course of ten years. She can forget that she's supposed to have no contact with him.

Right now, all that matters is that he missed her too.

Slowly, reluctantly, however, she pulls back.

"I have to go," She doesn't want to, she really doesn't. She wants them to be 'Ponine-and-Gabe again. She wants them to be eighteen, young and with the whole world ahead of them. She wants nothing to be impossible.

"What? Why? Please, 'Ponine, don't go!" He is begging, and for a second she hesitates.

But they are older now, they are twenty-eight and they are not 'Ponine-and-Gabe anymore, they are Eponine and Enjolras. The world has narrowed, she has chosen her path and he has chosen his. Her eyes have opened and she has learned that some things are, in fact, impossible.

They are now strangers.

"Goodbye, Enjolras."

Dear Enjolras,

I need to move on.

These letters, they do not help.

They only connect me to the past, to you, to things I cannot let go.

He groans in frustration, he knows what she is doing, she is distancing herself and like hell is he going to let that happen again.

He is not going to lose his 'Ponine because she has been his closest friend since forever and this is their second chance and he is not going to let her ruin it. They are going to revive their friendship even if it kills him.

"No." The word rips from his throat, it is not in the form of a sob or a cry, it comes out as an angry roar, "You are not going anywhere Eponine, you and I are going to have a nice long talk."

"But," She starts to protest and shrink back even as he gently grabs her arm, "I'm supposed to meet Gavroche! What will he think if I don't show up?"

As if by some sign, her phone dings, alerting her to a text from the person whose name just slipped from between her lips.

Enjolras looks over her shoulder and smirks, "Well it seems like he's cancelled on you and you now have a miraculous opening in your schedule. Shall we, Mademoiselle?"

Reluctantly, she follows, knowing that there is no way around this.

He leads her to a park and plants her firmly on a swing before taking the seat beside her.

"You remembered," Eponine gasps, in awe, parks have always been one of her favorite things, the happiness that radiates in the area as children enjoy themselves never fails to lift her mood. She, herself, especially loves the swings, the feeling of freedom they give her when she goes as high as she possibly can, the wind rushing at her.

"Of course," Enjolras states with a snort, as if offended by the mere thought of her underestimating how much he remembers when it comes to her.

She simply offers him a small, wan, smile and kicks up into the air.

"Do you, perchance, remember what happened on that fateful day nearly ten years ago?" Enjolras asks, plunging right in.

She nearly falls off the swing, but still manages to shake her head in the negative. It is a small lie. As clichéd as it sounds, she remembered the moment their eyes met. Well, she remembers some, if not most, of it. Things are still a little fuzzy, the minute details hazy.

She has repressed the memories for so long, they are slow to come back.

"Well, then I suppose I will just have to enlighten you," Enjolras states oddly formal, as if he is completing a business transaction, "for I have recently recalled," and with that, he plunges into the tale.

The tale that she does not want to hear, but must listen to anyway.

So, Eponine's very first letter and the promise of learning what actually happened ten years ago in the next chapter. I think this was a pretty awesome filler, if I do say so myself.

I decided that I've done enough studying and as a reward, I finished typing this up! Happy un-birthday to you! (Unless it really is your birthday, then happy birthday, dude.)

Special shout out to J91 who listens to me rant and rave. (A.K.A the person you should thank for this chapter being updated so soon.)

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