Azelma was one of them.
That's all Éponine could think as she rocked back and forth on the floor, her knees tucked against her chest, her face bleeding and her wrist stinging from the latest 'punishment'. Montparnasse was a disturbing young man with thoughts enough to make even the most repulsive person shudder. He didn't daydream of love like Marius, who tortured Éponine in his own way, instead he dreamt of new ways to hurt people. And he put those dreams to use on her.
His latest idea was horrific and painful and left her with a terrible scar up her wrist. She'd bandaged it as best she could, but the pain was overwhelming.
He had one of her father's friends press ice to her skin until her delicate forearm was numb and pink and blue around the edges. She struggled, but Montparnasse held down her arm and everyone else held down the rest of her. (One of them made a point of pressing her breasts.) Then Brujon drew Montparnasse's pocket knife, and sliced up the numb area. She felt nothing- could only watch as blood burbled to the surface of her skin. Then her dad took his lighted cigarette and pressed up the frozen skin until it went back to normal. And, with normal came extreme pain. Éponine could usually endure it, but this time she curled into a ball and screamed, screamed into her knees so as to not make Courferyac hear as he had in the past.
Azelma had started to leave with them once they finished their torture session, holding the knife. Éponine was confused. Usually, Azelma was right after her and they would be left to hold each other as the pain ebbed. She called, weakly, for her sister.
"Azelma?"
The eighth grade girl stopped, her shoulders quivering. Montparnasse rubbed her back, and nodded at Éponine. Confused, the older girl backed up until her back was pressed against the metal wall and her sister followed, walking slowly. Her sister's pale, gaunt face and her matted raven hair made her seem like something from a ghost story- most certainly not anything from this world. Azelma knelt beside her sister, glassy, dark eyes revealing nothing. Éponine reached out with her shaking hand to touch the girl's face, but then there was a flash of silver and an excruciating sting on her cheek. Azelma stood up and left the trailer, Montparnasse's pocket knife coated in fresh scarlet blood.
And she was left alone, not bothering to do anything with the gash on her face. It was still gushing blood, the warm liquid rolling down her face and splattering on the covers that she had tucked around her. She was shirtless underneath, and this was only due to wanting to preserve the somewhat-clean shirt.
She was too busy crying that she didn't hear the creaking door open or the gasp that came with it. She did hear the boyish yelp, though.
"Ép! Oh, god, what happened!" Gavroche crossed the room in a few running steps and ended by her side. He gently tilted her chin up and took in the bleeding cut on her face. He flinched, and pressed his jacket sleeve to it.
"Nothing worse than usual." She smiled, weakly, just as someone else came bounding into the trailer.
"Gavroche, what's-" It was a voice that struck her to the bone, and she had to refrain from shivering. She pulled the ratty blanket closer to her body and looked up at the boy who was coming towards her.
"Hey, Marius." She said, softly, and he staggered back at the sight of her face.
"Good God, what happened?"
Éponine chuckled a humorless laugh, one that Marius (in his innocence) didn't find odd but one that scared Gavroche.
"Oh, I just gave myself a little paper cut. I'm fine, really."
Marius shook his head, and Éponine couldn't help but notice how attractive he was when he was worried.
"No, at least let me call over Joly to take a look at it. He fancies himself a medic."
Marius left to go get his friend, and Gavroche reached for her hand. When he saw the bloody bandage, he gaped.
"They've gone too far. Just run with me, Ép. With you and me, anywhere will be home." Gavroche said, gently, but Éponine's eyes were fearful.
"I can't escape. Montparnasse'll be able to get me from school. They'll FIND me, do you understand?"
Gavroche nodded, worried. Marius came back up the little stairs, with a young, nervous looking man who seemed shocked at the state of her living place. He had neatly combed hair that was a few shades lighter than Éponine's, and he wore a spotless white button-up and skinny jeans. He had with him a little sewing kit, and his hands shook with each movement. As he came towards her, he walked carefully as if he was scared to touch anything.
"Marius, Gavroche, you should go back to the RV. I'll make sure she's okay." He said, softly. He smiled warmly at her, which put a little less pressure on her fluttering heart, but she didn't want Marius to go.
Joly gingerly mopped up the blood and held a paper towel to the cut. He drew the needle and very carefully began to stitch her face back up. She winced at the first penetration, but after that she was still, for it was definitely not the worst thing that had happened to her.
Once he was finished, Joly stepped back to admire his handiwork. "It's actually stitched up really well, if I say so myself. It'll show, but if you put enough make up on it won't be too bad. You know that you're my first ever patient, right?"
She tried to smile at him, to thank him, but her face went slack and he looked away.
"Okay, Miss Jondrette," he said, and she guffawed a little at this, but he continued. "I'm not as naive as Marius. I know that this wasn't a paper cut. Just be careful, okay?"
They sat in silence for a while, the atmosphere too heavy to bear. Finally, Joly nodded at her and seemed ready to leave, but he reached out as if expecting a hug. She tucked back, eyes wide.
"Sorry!" He apologized, stuttering and backing away. Éponine genuinely smiled for the first time that night.
"No, Mister Joly, it's just that I'm shirtless under this."
Joly's expression was the funniest thing she'd ever seen, and his adorably red cheeks became the happy thought that carried her through the night once Montparnasse came back.
Montparnasse didn't get far with her that night. She was too weak to fight him as she usually did, but as his fumbling hands tried to pull off her shorts, the very drunk boy collapsed on top of her.
She rolled out from beneath him and cast a sad glance at Azelma's slumbering form before she slipped out the door. It was Thursday, nearing the point where one day turns into another but the night's thick veil covers the change.
Éponine wrapped a jacket around herself- a clean, baby blue jacket that at least could act as a shirt, since hers was somewhere in the mess of the trailer. She was pretty sure that it was Joly's, since he had one around his waist when he came in.
She walked, barefoot, to the strip mall. The nights were just starting to get cold, and she regretted not grabbing a pair of shoes. Not expecting anything to be open, she kept walking until she saw that a singular shop was lit up. It was a jewelry store, relatively new and very well-kept. It was aimed towards a younger crowd, for none of the gems were real. There were no claims made that they were genuine, so no one hated the shop owners for the falsity.
Éponine neared the shop, for light draws a moth and she was far too ugly to be a butterfly. She peered inside and marveled at the glimmering way the light danced off the reflective jewelry in the glass cases. She longed to enter the little store, for the wind was gnawing at her back, and her bare legs were freezing to the touch.
Her ratty hair blew up around her face, and the air was whistling a snarky tune in her ear, so she didn't hear the delicate tinkle of the bell as the door opened.
"Why are you standing out here?" A kind voice asked, and Éponine ducked her head, she didn't want to draw any suspicions. "Come on in and look closer, if that's what you want to do."
"I-I-I have no money." She whispered, but the sound was loud enough for the shadow to hear. "And I'd scare off costumers, I'm sure." She said the last part bitterly, and instead of being warded off by her tone the worker tugged at her arm.
"Well at least come in to give me some company. It gets terribly lonely at this time of night."
A reluctant Éponine crossed the threshold, trying not to meet the kind soul's eyes. She stumbled on a slight step into the store, and as she did so, the shadow reached out and caught her by her arm. She cried out in pain, and the beautiful figure apologized profusely, and carefully wound up her sleeve to see the damage.
There was a hissing sound as a breath was drawn. "Good God, what did you do? And you probably tried to bandage it yourself, didn't you? I bet you didn't clean it... Silly girl. I'll be right back."
The figure rushed away to fetch something, and Éponine guiltily slid a faux gold necklace into her pocket. If she gave it to her father he could sell it as a real one and she would be protected from at least a beating or two.
The singular worker came back in the room and gently started to clean and dress Éponine's wound. As the white bandage was wrapped around the cut, the figure spoke again.
"It's not the answer."
Éponine snorted for two reasons at this. It wasn't her choice for this to have happened, and, as she told the bourgeoise worker, "How would you know?"
"Self harm is never the answer, 'Ponine."
"So you do recognize me."
"You hardly look different."
"Can't really say the same to you. It's been a long time, Cosette."
Éponine couldn't take it anymore. It was nearing the end of October, as indicated by the weather the night before, and she'd endured close to three months of Marius pining over Cosette as she walked by every day. A few times, she looked up and met his eyes with a blush, and Marius would be in a considerably better mood after. Although Éponine loved seeing him happy, the fact that it was caused by another girl hurt her more than anything else.
And, she'd found where he could see her again. She didn't want to tell him, but she couldn't keep a secret from him.
"Okay, class, the person behind you is now your partner in this assignment! You must conjugate all irregular IR verbs!"
At this, her heart started pounding. Marius turned around and smiled slightly at her. "So, I suppose we're partners."
"Yes, I guess we are." She said, her heart leaping in her throat and making it difficult to breathe. "You know, I'm real glad that you and your medic friend were there last night. It really saved my ass. Gavroche is a smart boy, but I'm not sure that he really could stitch up a wound. I definitely couldn't do it! I can't sew to save my life. My mom tried to teach me to sew… It didn't go really well. You know that my mom died, right? She got TB because we lived under a bridge until we got the trailer. There were some nights that I thought about just jumping into the river because I was too hungry. But then I thought about my siblings and I couldn't. Since Azelma's turned fucking unresponsive, I get lonely. Sometimes I walk alone at night just to feel that loneliness at a bigger level. Last night I was walking and-" Éponine looked up, realizing that she'd not only been talking too much but that she'd lost her audience. Desperate for him to notice her, she sighed and got to the point. "The girl… Do you still want to know where you can find her?"
Marius looked up at this, his blue eyes flashing. He grabbed her forearms, and she repressed a shriek at the still-burning pain. After that shock, she was suddenly aware of the beautiful happiness on his face and the fact that he was touching her… He was HOLDING her, in a way. "Éponine, do you know? You have to tell me; I'll give you anything!"
She smiled blissfully at the sound of her name in his mouth. "I like it when you say my name, Marius. Most of the time it sounds awkward and long, but you make it sound exotic-"
"The point, Éponine!" He insisted, leaning close in his passion. Her breathing grew labored, for her daydream was crushed. His excitement wasn't for Éponine… It was for HER.
"Yes, I can try to locate her." She said, stiffly. She withheld from him the fact that she already knew where she worked. She wanted to help him, but she didn't want to destroy her chance at happiness.
"Where did you get this?" Her father yelled, holding the little gold chain in his hand. Éponine whimpered in fear. His face was close enough to hers that she could see every dirty pore in his thin, gray face.
"Stole it." She said, and his grip tightened around her forearm. "Fig'red you could sell it."
His rare and terrifying grin split his face, and he carefully put the necklace in her palm. "So you're right, Éponine. Hold onto this for daddy, alright? He'll get someone to buy it soon enough."
He backed away, and she sighed in relief. The necklace had saved her, and yet the reality that she stole it bit at her conscience. Cosette, after everything, had been so kind to her. And Éponine had stolen from her.
Sighing, she put the necklace in the pocket of her 'new' pair of jeans. As an 'I'm Sorry That Your Face Got Fucked Up' present, Gavroche had brought her a pair of jeans from the donation box. They were decently clean and fit her well, and although the waist was too big, she solved the issue by tying a string through the belt loops. She still had Joly's jacket. The boy had seen her at school with it on, and although his face contorted in a fashion that suggested that he wanted to ask for it back, he relaxed and instead just nodded at her. He'd seen firsthand of the conditions that she lived in.
Éponine made her way to the door of the trailer, avoiding her father's accusing stare.
"Where are you going, little slut?"
She straightened her back and looked him in the eye. "I'm going for a walk."
"Be back in an hour, Montparnasse'll be here, and he's getting impatient, Éponine." He winked, and there was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She rushed out of the trailer, shivering violently at the sudden wind that could easily sweep the thin girl off the ground, should it wish to do so. Her bare feet dashed to cover the distance to her destination, and as she crossed the parking lot, a flutter of paper caught her eye.
Her quick body and nimble fingers knew what to do. She all but dove for the bill, and squealed in ecstasy when she saw that it was 50$. She pocketed the money and continued on, her smile only somewhat faltering as she neared the little jewelry store. She pulled the little chain out of her pocket and shoved through the door.
The cheerful bell didn't match the force put into each of her angry steps. Although she was quite mad, her expression was one of a person near tears. The girl at the counter looked up, a puzzled but welcoming expression gracing her perfect face.
"'Ponine, what is it?"
"You don't have to call me that. The nickname's supposed to be used by people who like me." Éponine snapped.
"But I do-"
"No you don't." Éponine's voice was strained and her eyes watery as she balled her fists around the chain. Cosette posed no argument; instead she looked at her freshly manicured hands. Éponine continued. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Cosette asked, hesitantly. Éponine knew what she had to be sorry for. She answered the older girl's question by placing the necklace on the counter top.
But there was so much more, and it couldn't be solved by this little confession. Éponine knew in her heart that there was only one way that she could make up for the horrific treatment that Cosette suffered under her parents. And, although it pained her more than any beating, the way was Marius.
Cosette stared blankly down at the necklace, as if trying to register that anyone could commit such a crime as theft. A tight-lipped smile twitched on Éponine's face as she asked, softly.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Cosette looked up, her eyes wide and very confused. She shook her head, and a perfect russet curl rolled from her braid to frame her well-fed cheek. Éponine nodded, a way of goodbye, and left the shop.
The phone book was filled with tiny numbers and names that hadn't been updated since the late 90's. Éponine was searching for a certain name, the spelling of which she didn't know, and when she found it she cheered silently. The address was printed next to the name, and she gently ripped out the page.
It was night again, as it so often was when she was out, and therefore it was too late to call on Gavroche and spend the night with him. It was times like these when Éponine wished for a friend. She knew that Cosette, being so annoyingly nice, would give her a place to stay, but she couldn't bear to see the face of the girl who stole Marius's heart. Instead, she searched for a near stranger, in hope that kind souls still existed amongst young men.
She found the house with little difficulty and she watched from the street as a light upstairs turned on. She crept closer to the elegant house and peered up. Framed in the lit window, was a curly haired boy. Éponine smiled and started to climb the ivy on the wall. Her weak arms could barely handle the strain, but she somehow managed to make it to the height of the second-floor window. She pulled herself up to perch on the narrow sill, her toes clutching the small space and her knees pressed against the window. With one hand, she clutched a vine for dear life. With the other, she softly knocked.
The boy looked up, surprised. He hurried to the window and eased it open.
"Éponine? What are you-"
"I had a fight with my dad… Is there any chance I could room with you for a night?"
"Are you sure you'll be okay? We've talked once, and for all you know, I could be a rapist." The boy laughed, and despite his unattractive features, he seemed truly handsome when his good-natured side showed. At this response, she looked him dead in the eye.
"You love Enjolras, I love Marius. Our lives are like a fucking opera. I don't think the universe could handle it if you tried something." She said, and he nodded, still laughing. With his help, she slipped into his room like a ghost and looked around at the grandeur of the bedroom.
The ceilings were high and the molding was a rich brown. The bed with teal sheets seemed to be almost on a platform. The floors were mostly clean but for a few discarded items of clothing, and the hardwood felt nice under Éponine's feet. Although the room was pretty undecorated, there was a blown-up picture that took up half of the far wall. It was of the Friends of the ABC, the obscure high school club that was keeping Gavroche alive. There was a neat, almost unused mahogany desk and a mini-fridge.
"Not much, but it's home." Grantaire said, a smirk in his voice.
Éponine crossed her arms and said, bluntly, "I've seen worse."
He looked her up and down; it wasn't in a mean way, it was observant like a scientist would study data. He took in her ratty hair, her dirty fingernails, her bare feet, and the string that held her hair back.
"I believe you." He reached into the mini-fridge and pulled out a Mike's Hard Lemonade. He handed it to her without another word, and then he collapsed into his full bed. Éponine sat on his desk, sipping the alcoholic beverage slowly, trying to prepare herself for the pain that would come the next day. It was going to be a Saturday, so she could avoid Montparnasse and her father until the night. Technically, she hadn't gotten into the fight YET, because she didn't return home after righting her wrong. She had fifty dollars burning a hole in her pocket, and she told herself that things could only get better.
How wrong she was.
She climbed into the bed next to the strange boy, and she looked sleepily at him from the polar end. "You're awake."
"You're observant."
"So I've been told." Éponine giggled a little bit, and after looking at Grantaire's half-closed eyes, she asked, "So you're gay?"
He sighed, and he sank deeper into the soft mattress. "It's not quite that. I've lusted after women, but I've only ever loved my Apollo." Grantaire's words melted into a drowsy groan, and sleep pulled the drunkard into its grasp. A few minutes later, it claimed the broken girl beside him.
When Éponine woke to the sun filtering through the window she'd climbed through, she became very aware of the arm that was casually draped over her. She stiffened, then relaxed, relishing in her first gentle embrace since her mother passed away.