Oh my goodness, you all are SO wonderful! I can't believe how many reviews and follows and favorites this has gotten! Thank you all so much!

I've moooostly gotten past my writer's block, I got a good bit of work done when I was away. Thanks for being patient with my brief hiatus, and your reward (and Easter present?) is another sad chapter.

I'm sorry.

There's not much else to say about it.

Also, I'm actually begging you to send me prompts! Drop me a PM here or message me on tumblr (thisislavieboheme, for those that don't know) so that I can write them for you! They're so fun and I love collaborating and they're extra helpful for getting past writer's block!

I love you guys you're the best and I just can't even with you.

Disclaimer: Still no. I'm just listening to the (full) soundtrack and having feels and crying nbd.

"Why don't you try telling him the truth?" Clémence asked. Eponine could hear the noise in the background, indicating that Clémence was on her lunch break.

"What do you mean?"

"That you're in love with him, idiot."

"This? Really, Clé, again?"

"Oh please, Eponine. Stop denying it and just suck it up already and admit it. You had no problem being in love with Marius for 6 years. Why is being in love with Enjolras for one any different?"

"I just –."

"You're scared, Eponine. And that's fine. Being in love with someone who will never love you back is so much less of a commitment than giving yourself to someone who feels the same way."

"Feels the same way?" It was more of an incredulous statement than a question.

"God, Eponine, I love you, but you're an idiot. He's in love with you. I was hoping you would figure it out on your own, darling, but you're just as stubborn as he is. Maybe more so. You aren't seeing what's right there in front of your eyes because, deep down, you know what you'll find and it scares you."

"You're such a fucking psychiatrist, Clé, did you know that?" Eponine told her with a laugh, coming up on the door of the café and poignantly ignoring her friend's psychoanalysis.

The girl on the other end of the line laughed. "Well not quite, but someday soon I will be. But for now, you get all your eye-opening insights for free. Think about what I said. Listen, Ep, I have to go. But I'll be over with Cour tonight, so I'll see you then."

"Right, see you tonight."

When she walked into the café, Grantaire, Feuilly, and Joly were already there.

"Are you boys really the only ones who are free right now? I thought this was supposed to be a big group reunion, or something."

"Nah, Eponine, we knew if we told you who exactly was coming you'd forget, so there was no point."

"Fair enough," she conceded with a smile, ordering lunch and a beer.

"So," said Joly after a few moments, giving her a knowing smirk, "When exactly were you and Enjolras planning on telling us – firstly – that you were together, and secondly, that you broke up?"

Eponine, who had been snacking on the plate of complementary fries the waitress had brought them (they spent a lot of time at this café, and knew all the staff), froze.

"Yeah, and how come I was literally the last person to know? I live with you fuckers, and everyone kept it a damn secret from me –."

"That's because any time it came up around you, you were already too drunk to notice, R," she told him wryly.

He just grinned. "I'm so proud of you," he cooed, rubbing her head. She swatted him away.

"Seriously," Feuilly said, "If I had known that you were that sort of friend, I would've cashed in on that one years ago."

The comment earned him a fry to the face, and a laugh from the boys.

"Really, though, when did you and Enjolras get together? Inquiring minds want to know," Joly pushed.

"Are you all talking about how 'Ponine and Enjolras have secretly been together for months and have never mentioned it to any of us?" a foreign voice asked. Eponine whirled in her chair to find herself face-to-face with Marius, Cosette and Musichetta behind him.

They had rarely seen the newlyweds since the night of their wedding, giving them plenty of space to settle in and enjoy the beginning of their life together. But they were here now, visiting their friends for the first time in weeks.

Once they had all given their hugs and kisses and squeezed in together, they turned the attention back to Eponine.

"Shit, you guys really aren't going to give this up, are you?"

When they all just looked at her expectantly, she sighed in defeat.

"Fine." She awkwardly cleared her throat, wondering where to begin. "It started several months back, right around when Courfeyrac and Clémence started dating, I suppose."

No one said anything.

Eponine, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the attention and the topic, heard herself delicately explain to her friends, "We… ah… we weren't dating, per se; we were more, um, taking advantage of… certain physical attributes." She actually felt her cheeks warm up a bit.

With that, Musichetta leaned around Joly, who had his arm around her shoulders, and held out her palm expectantly to Feuilly. He sighed and pulled out his wallet, grudgingly handing her a $10 bill.

"You fuckers were betting on us?" she asked incredulously.

Musichetta shrugged happily, giving her a winning smile. The others were buzzing and laughing.

Eponine put her face in her hands.

"Oh, come on now, Eponine." A hand was resting on her arm. Marius' hand. Eponine stared at it for a moment. Just a few months ago, her insides would be melting, her heart would be pounding in her chest, and her palms would be sweating.

Now….

"We've all known since the summer," Cosette told her kindly. "We figured it out not too long after our engagement. You guys got really bad at sneaking out of parties together. And the ones you did manage to avoid leaving together, you always left within five or ten minutes of one another."

"Yeah, basically the drunker you both got, the worse you were at being sneaky," Feuilly stated matter-of-factly.

"So what happened?" Musichetta asked gently, cocking her head to the side. Eponine just looked at her, feeling the apprehension cloud her face. "We know it was something bad, because no one has seen you two speak, much less sit in the same room, for the last few months, and when we're all out together, you two stay on opposite sides of the room and completely ignore each other."

Feuilly snorted into his drink. "When they're not too busy staring at each other," he said dryly.

They stared at each other?

Sure, maybe she would look at him from time to time, wondering if he was having a good time or not. Maybe she would catch herself lost in his beauty down the bar – his ocean-blue eyes, those sinfully high cheekbones, that strong jaw, the incredible dirty-blonde hair – but she would always look away before anyone could catch her.

Or not.

"So what did you two fight about?" Grantaire asked.

Eponine gave him an exasperated look. "That's really no one's business," she said regally, holding her head high. But everyone was looking at her expectantly. She sighed, deflated. "We fought after the wedding. It was… it was really bad." She couldn't look at Marius, remembering that it was her feelings for him that had caused the rift with Enjolras in the first place. "We've hardly spoken since," she told them matter-of-factly, doing her best to adopt an unconcerned demeanor.

No one spoke for a while, and the silence was only broken by the arrival of some appetizers.

Eponine dove into her mozzarella sticks vigorously, hoping to both distract herself and stave off more of her friends' inquiries.

"You should tell him how you feel," Cosette said softly, breaking the silence. Her big, kind eyes were boring into Eponine.

She wondered if Cosette could see deep down into her soul; if she knew about Eponine's feelings for Marius, about just how much being in that wedding had killed her, and about how truly indifferent toward it all she felt now.

"I don't know how I feel," she heard herself confess. This was embarrassing. Why were they still discussing this? Why were the boys involved? This was not part of their friendship, right? She helped them with their girl problems, and she made sure they stayed the hell out of her love life, unless she specifically asked for advice or input.

"Is that true?" Cosette asked kindly. Eponine's dark eyes found Cosette's light ones. It was striking to Eponine, how different they were. Cosette was golden and bright, she was daylight. Prim and proper, reserved, unfailingly kind, and optimistic were just some of Cosette's qualities. The woman was almost angelic, or, at the very least, she was like a ray of sunshine born into a beautiful human body.

Eponine, by contrast, was dark. Dark hair, dark eyes, even dark skin. She was a creature of the night, a shadow; forced to grow up too soon, always fighting, always wanting, never winning. She said what she thought, had very little filter, cursed like a sailor, and was unfailingly realistic. The dreamer within her had been beaten away long ago, and that only remaining part of her soul spilled out into her artwork. But even that represented the night inside her. The only time she had been a lady was when she had tried to emanate Cosette's manner in order to impress Marius, but she could no more impress him than could the moon produce its own light; rather, she reflected Cosette, much like the moon reflects the sun.

But there was something different, now. Something that made Eponine suddenly feel like Cosette's equal; something that made her feel as though she had attained whatever it was of Cosette's that she envied.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. Cosette just smiled sweetly and reached out to squeeze her hand.

Eponine wasn't really sure what to do; this conversation had taken a turn – even before the arrival of Marius, Cosette, and Musichetta – for the astronomically awkward.

"Somebody else please talk now," Eponine begged through her teeth. Musichetta immediately began telling a hilarious story about her kindergarteners, taking the spotlight far, far away from Eponine.

She hated Enjolras for leaving her alone to deal with this. It didn't matter if he was at work. She was annoyed, damnit, and couldn't help sending him a text informing him of what had happened.

She received a reply almost immediately, but it only annoyed her further: "Sorry." It was followed immediately by another that simply read, "No more texts, at work."

Eponine tossed her phone on the table, stuffing her now-cold mozzarella sticks into her mouth.

At least they wouldn't disappoint her.

That night, Eponine lay in bed thinking about the conversation with her friends.

It was slightly alarming, her lack of response to Marius' proximity. He had been sitting next to her, he had hugged her and kissed her cheek when he arrived, he had put a comforting hand on her arm. She might as well have been sitting next to Grantaire, arguably the most platonic friend she had ever had.

Well, it wasn't quite like that. Her stomach had stirred when she saw him, but it felt almost habitual, especially after 6 years. Her heart had stayed calm after her initial surprise, and, besides how awkward it was to talk about fucking Enjolras, she had been rather indifferent towards Marius' presence.

Eponine wasn't sure what any of it meant. She had talked about it briefly with Clémence, but she and Courfeyrac were cooking dinner together and Eponine wanted to let them have their time together. Plus, she knew what Clémence thought about the whole thing.

And Eponine was starting to wonder if Clémence wasn't right.

It made sense – why else, besides being in love with her, would Enjolras remain so perpetually angry with her for so long over her feelings for Marius? It made sense, after how he had been acting.

She supposed he was too proud, and too respectful of her own pride – and, it pained her to admit it, but he seemed too familiar with her own fears, as well – to embarrass her by declaring his love. Especially when he was so pissed off.

But did she love him?

She certainly didn't love Marius anymore; after six years of unrequited affection for him, hardly feeling anything said more than enough.

She heard the bolt unlock and the door open. Her heart skipped; Enjolras was home. Eponine wanted to bound out into the living room to meet him, to tell him that she thought she might finally be free from Marius, that before long she would be quite indifferent. But he wouldn't want to speak to her.

On a Thursday evening several days later, a large group of them were back in the café for dinner when Eponine's phone rang.

"Azelma," she answered. She didn't speak too frequently with her sister, but always tried be available for her.

However, Eponine's face fell in a matter of seconds from happy to concerned, imploring her sister to calm down, that she couldn't hear her when she was so hysterical, so outright panicked.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," she said urgently, standing and quickly gathering her things. She threw a $20 bill onto the table as she pulled on her hat, scarf, coat, and gloves, murmuring something about paying someone back if she owed any more money.

Clémence and Combeferre, in between whom she was sitting, were the only two who noticed at first, but as she rushed out of the café, everyone was imploring her to stop and say what was happening. However, Eponine didn't even seem to notice or hear them, and she bolted out the door, running down the street towards the apartment, leaving her friends behind to share worried glances.

Eponine ran up the stairs, skipping them two at a time. She burst into the apartment, and slammed directly into Enjolras, who grabbed her shoulders to steady them both.

"Eponine, I was just heading down –." He didn't even finish as she wrenched herself from his grasp and ran into her room.

He could hear her upending her room, and went to the doorway to see what was happening.

She looked panicked, bordering on hysterical, and ignored him as he stood there observing her.

"Eponine, what's wrong? What's happening?" he asked urgently, forgetting his anger for a moment.

"Nothing," she replied curtly. He tried not to let it bother him – she was more distressed than he had ever seen her – but he couldn't help it.

"Tell me," he demanded, a bit harsher than he had intended. "Don't shut me out, maybe I can help you."

"Not now, Enjolras," she snapped. "I really don't need one of your lectures right now."

She turned, met his eyes, and melted.

She was on her bed the next moment, hands in her face taking deep breaths, seemingly trying to stave off a panic attack.

Enjolras sat next to her, rubbing her back and soothingly instructing her to breath. When she was somewhat calm, he said, "Eponine, you're running around like a crazy person. I just got about 10 texts from everyone in the café wanting to know if I'd seen you and if you were ok. What's going on?"

He was a little surprised when she spoke, almost immediately, without any fight. "I have to get to the hospital," she told him in a resigned voice. He waited patiently for her to continue. "It's – it's Gavroche."

Enjolras felt his stomach clench and his heart start to pound with dread.

"He was shot last night, something about getting caught in gang crossfire. They brought him in but weren't able to ID him until just a little while ago. He's in surgery and it – it's not good." Her voice was tiny, much higher than usual.

Enjolras, feeling a lump of panic in his throat, took her hand and squeezed it. She looked at their entwined hands, lips parted in slight surprise. "Get a bag, bring some water bottles, maybe a book or something to distract you, and some snacks. We're going to be there for a while," he instructed, pulling out his phone.

She didn't question him, just ran off into the kitchen.

He opened his phone to call Joly.

"Enj, is everything ok?" Joly sounded concerned.

"No, Jol, I'm going to need to borrow your car. It's Gavroche – he was attacked last night and is in the hospital. It's pretty serious. I'm taking Eponine there now, and I think a car –."

"Not a problem, man, use it as long as you need it. It's parked in front of your place, I'll meet you at the corner to give you the keys."

Ten minutes later, Enjolras was escorting Eponine to Joly's car. Joly was standing next to it, pacing, and rushed Eponine as soon as she opened the door to the building. She hugged him back tightly, and Enjolras watched as he said something to her, to which she nodded, and asked her to be strong for her brother on all of their behalf.

They had barely pulled up in front of the visitor's entrance and Eponine had already jumped out of the car – totally forgetting her large purse – to run inside. Enjolras cursed, and drove around for what felt like hours to find an empty parking spot.

He felt like an idiot, carrying her purse inside. When he got there, she was nowhere to be seen. He went to the desk and dropped the giant bag on the table.

"I'm afraid visiting hours are over for tonight, sir."

"Actually, I'm not here to visit. A girl with dark hair ran in here about 10 minutes ago. Her brother was shot. I'm her – I have all her stuff. I brought her. Could you tell me where she is?"

The lady at the desk smiled kindly and gave him directions to a waiting room near the emergency operating rooms.

"Poor dear looked completely heartbroken. She's lucky to have a boyfriend like you," she said, giving him a nametag. He smiled sadly, thanked her, grabbed Eponine's bag, and hurried off.

He found her a few minutes later at the emergency room nurse's station. He put a hand on her lower back as he came up next to her. She seemed to involuntarily and unconsciously lean into him a bit.

"There you are," she said. Her voice was tight, but he thought she looked a little relieved to see him.

"I brought you your bag," he said, handing it to her. She accepted it wordlessly as a nurse walked over, holding a chart.

"Gavroche Thénardier, right? I'm afraid he's still in surgery. You'll have to wait for a while to hear anything else," he said kindly, smiling supportively at her and Enjolras. "There's a waiting room around the corner. We'll let you know when we have any news."

Eponine sighed, clearly distressed, and turned toward Enjolras, scratching her forehead helplessly. She looked lost.

"Come on," he said softly, directing her towards the waiting room.

She walked in before him, and a girl who must have been Azelma sprung from a chair.

"Eponine!" the girl exclaimed.

Eponine took her in her arms, holding her tight for a long while. Finally, they broke apart and turned toward Enjolras. Azelma resembled Eponine, though her hair was a lighter brown, even tinged with a bit of red, and she looked several years younger. For some reason, he felt like she was around the age of 19. She had obviously been crying.

Eponine looked over the shorter girl's head, at a tall, lanky boy with a long mop of dark hair and dark, baggy, ripped clothing.

"I see you brought your boyfriend." Her tone was clipped. Enjolras vaguely remembered her mentioning that she didn't approve of Azelma's boyfriend, though it got her out of their parents' grasp, which was far better.

"I see you brought yours," Azelma countered, matching her sister's tone. Oh yeah, they were definitely related.

"This is Enjolras," Eponine said unceremoniously, gesturing at him.

"Nice to finally meet you, Azelma. I wish it wasn't here," he said, trying to be as soothing as he could. Azelma appeared to appraise him as they shook hands, though he couldn't even begin to guess what she had decided.

"This is Montparnasse," she said, introducing the lanky youth behind her. Montparnasse nodded, but said nothing, although he did shake Enjolras' extended hand.

"Are Mom and Dad here?" Eponine asked impatiently. Enjolras could hear the strain in her voice. Meetings with her parents were never thrilling for her, even under the best circumstances.

Azelma and Montparnasse returned to their seats, directly against the wall and facing the doorway. Enjolras followed Eponine to seats along the adjacent wall, putting a little bit of distance between herself and her sister. When he had taken off his coat and scarf and hat, he settled in next to her. She laced her fingers through his; he wasn't even sure if she realized it.

"What happened?" Eponine demanded.

Azelma took a deep breath. "Gav was walking home from a friend's house late last night. Mom and Dad refused to give him a ride, and the kid obviously doesn't drive and his mom works a night shift somewhere and his dad was sleeping because he works during the day, so Gav was on his own. And, well, you know the neighborhood. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The police are saying it was gang violence, with the exception of him, all the others that were killed or wounded belonged to two rival gangs. Ep, it's bad. They weren't sure he was going to live through the first surgery."

Eponine was squeezing his fingers, and hiding her face in her other hand. "Fuck," she murmured under her breath. She let go of his hand, leaning forward and cradling her face in her hands, propping her elbows on her knees. Enjolras reached around her, rubbing small circles on her back, trying to be as comforting as possible. He could tell that she was trying not to cry.

All of a sudden, a nasally woman's voice drawled, "Well if it ain't Eponine Jondrette," from the doorway. Eponine stiffened like a board beneath his hand and slowly looked up.

The woman was short, with dark, wildly curly hair. The man that accompanied her was very tall with a slightly darker complexion than his wife, and a black pouf of hair on his head. They were the type of people that Enjolras' law friends would most likely refer to as, quite simply, "white trash."

Eponine stood, stretching herself to her full height. Azelma and Montparnasse were watching with apt silence. Enjolras stayed where he was, not wanting to directly get involved, nor wanting to get in the way of what he knew Eponine had to say.

"This is your fault," she snarled at her parents. "If you had just gone and fucking picked him up from his friend's house, or, I don't know, given him a curfew or forbidden him to be out in that part of the city alone at night, maybe he wouldn't be dying on an operating table right now!" She was furious. "Let me guess," she continued, "Dad, you were gambling with your no-good tenants, cheating to steal their money. Mom, you were pretending to be drunk to get money from the other customers. You are disgusting excuses for parents –."

"You'll shut your mouth right now, Eponine, or I'll do it for you," her father threatened.

All of a sudden, everything that she had ever mentioned or implied about her parents made sense. Enjolras understood why she felt the way she did.

"Baby, I'm so happy to see you," her mother cooed, moving to hug her. Eponine took a step back, and the older woman started to cackle. "What a little bitch you've always been, Eponine! Can't even give mama a hug hello! And in such trying times."

"You two are disgusting. Why are you even here? You made it very clear when I was young that you didn't give two shits about your kids. I remember – you cried when Gavroche was born. Not because you had another child, but because you had another mouth to feed. Another money-sucking leech to take care of. You've never cared any more about him than you've cared about Azelma or me. So why are you here?"

"That's my baby you're talkin' about!" the old woman exclaimed, pretending to be affronted.

"Go home," Eponine ordered.

"Aw, baby," her father said, reaching out to cup her cheek. Eponine again flinched away. An ugly look passed over his face as he growled, "We're here to see about the money for Gavroche. We ain't got the funds to pay for all these surgeries and this hospital care. Soon's he's out, we're takin' him home."

"Oh no you're not," Eponine countered evenly. Enjolras felt his gut twisting in repulsion. "He will die if he doesn't stay in the hospital. No, he's staying right where he is. If you two try and get him discharged and brought home, I will personally call the police and have you arrested for child endangerment and neglect and abuse and whatever the hell else I can think of!"

Her father slapped her, and Enjolras was instantly out of his chair. On the edge of his vision, he could see even Azelma and Montparnasse leaping up. Eponine was hunched over, her hand on her cheek, avoiding her father's gaze. Enjolras wrapped his arms around her, loosely but protectively.

"Oh, Eponine, is this your boyfriend? What a catch, good job, girl! He looks rich too, that's good for all of us. You should marry 'im!" her mother exclaimed, sneering a bit at her eldest child.

Eponine glared at her. "If I do marry him, you can be damn sure you'll never see a cent of any money that is his, or mine for that matter," she snapped.

"I think you'd better leave," Enjolras heard himself say. It was much harsher than he had intended it; he hadn't wanted to get too involved in their family drama. But seeing Eponine's own father slap her across the face, especially after all those appalling things he had said about Gavroche, was too much. He wanted to stay neutral, but he didn't want to idly watch as the woman he loved was being abused, either.

"I agree," drawled Montparnasse. Azelma was pleadingly hanging on his arm.

Thénardier looked back and forth between the two young men, paying particular attention to Enjolras – it was the only thing they seemed to agree upon, that Enjolras was undoubtedly the bigger threat – and snarled, "Fine. Good luck paying for all of this."

He looked at Azelma. "Tell us how the kid turns out," he spat, turning to glare at, first, Enjolras, then Eponine before he turned on his heel and stalked out.

Eponine stared down her cackling mother, until she, too, took her leave. Then she collapsed against him.

"Let me see," he murmured, holding her chin and looking at the large red welt across her cheek. He lightly ran his thumb over the spot, and Eponine half-closed her eyes.

Suddenly, the same nurse who had given them directions appeared. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said, addressing Eponine, "There were some complaints about some of the people in this room."

Enjolras suddenly was relieved that this room was so secluded from the rest of this wing; otherwise they would have truly had a scene on their hands.

"It was my parents. They're gone now, though, we're fine. But if – when – Gavroche wakes up, I want child services to come talk to him. They will never see him again, not if I have anything to do about it," she vowed fiercely.

The nurse, who apparently doubled as an orderly, surveyed her for a moment, eyes resting on the smarting red mark. "I'll make a note of that, ma'am," he promised, writing something on the chart. "Your parents didn't give us any insurance information. And if you have any, I'm afraid we can't accept it, since you are not his legal guardian."

"My parents don't have insurance," she said, sounding suddenly exhausted.

"Your parents will be billed, then, in about a month. They can set up a payment plan with the hospital."

"I don't want my parents anywhere near Gavroche. I want custody, you can send the bill to me." Even she sounded a little surprised to hear herself say that so definitively.

"If you are granted temporary custody, you will be sent the bill. Someone will get in touch with you, probably tomorrow, from child services. You can discuss all of this then. I'll come and let you know when we have news about your brother," the nurse told her with a small, encouraging smile. He took his leave.

Enjolras had been standing behind her for the conversation, and pulled out his phone. "Let me get a picture, Ep," he said. Eponine looked at him like he was crazy. "Your cheek is still red from where your dad hit you. It's evidence, you can show it to child services when you meet them." She conceded, and he saved the photo.

When they sat back down, she leaned into him, so he wrapped his arm around her. She was curled on the chair like a cat.

"I'll help you pay for this," he murmured.

She twisted, looking up at him. "No, I don't need your money. I have money saved. I'll go on a payment plan, and I'll pay every month, as long as it takes." She was angry. She hated being reminded of how poor she was.

"That money is for you to go back to school," he reminded her.

"This is more important," she snapped.

"Eponine, let me help you," he implored. "I love Gavroche, too. He's like a brother to me. I have money; let me take care of this."

Eponine just settled back into his arms. "Well, if I can't get custody of him, it won't matter anyway."

"Excuse me, Eponine, aren't you forgetting that you have a future super-lawyer for a friend? I'll help you with this. He'll come and live with us. We do have the sleeper sofa. Or maybe you can move into my room, or I can move into yours and he can have the empty room," he suggested, flicking her nose jokingly.

She giggled at that. "Yes, I'm sure some social worker would love to see Gavroche living with 3 male twenty-somethings and his sister, who sometimes gives him her room because she's busy screwing one of the guys. Yeah, that'll work."

He smiled and stroked her hair. "We'll figure something out. We'll talk to Grantaire and Courfeyrac. We could probably turn the den into a bedroom. I mean, Gavroche is going to be 16 years old on his next birthday, right? They'll take what he says about all of this into account. Don't worry, Ep, we'll come up with a kickass argument for you to have custody."

"Good thing I quit Hooters," she said dryly.

The hours dragged by. Azelma and Montparnasse had dozed off. Initially, Eponine had gone to the nurses' station every 10 minutes or so to ask for news, but eventually they had insisted that she stay in the waiting room.

Enjolras had gone to the coffee machine a few times, but had mostly been urging Eponine to drink her water to stay hydrated. She stayed in his arms the whole time, dozing off for a few minutes here and there, her body jerking awake when she remembered where she was. For his part, Enjolras stroked her hair, and rested his chin or his cheek on her head. He wished he could plant a few kisses on her crown and her temples, but that was a line that he knew he could not yet cross, despite the fact that she was draped over him and he was holding her tightly.

It was nearing one in the morning when the same nurse returned to the waiting room, accompanied by a doctor in scrubs, his head under a cap and his mouth protector loose around his neck.

"I'm Doctor Brevet. Are you the family?" the doctor asked. Eponine sprung up, Azelma running to join her. Montparnasse snaked an arm around the younger girl's waist. Enjolras stood next to Eponine, and was slightly surprised when she reached out to grasp his hand tightly.

"I'm Eponine Jondrette, this is my sister Azelma," she announced. "Is Gavroche alright?"

"He's in the recovery room. I'm not going to mince words, Ms. Jondrette. This is very serious. When they say 'wrong place, wrong time,' it applies to your brother. He was shot three times, and a fourth bullet grazed his head. One shot was in his shoulder; it was the least serious. The other two, however, were in his chest and abdomen. We were able to stop the internal bleeding, but he has lost a lot of blood, and the resulting trauma to the body – both from the wounds and the blood loss – is severe. We managed to stabilize him, but he's still in fairly critical condition, so he is in an induced medical coma. Right now, he's in the recovery room. We want to keep him there for a few hours, in case we need to go back in and operate again. Once he's a little more stable, he'll be moved to the ICU, where he will remain until he stabilizes enough to be brought out of the coma and moved to a regular room."

No one spoke.

"My recommendation to you all is to go home and get some rest. Nothing is going to happen for quite some time because we'll be monitoring him for the next several hours. He should be in a room by early afternoon. Go home, get some sleep, and come back later. We'll have more information for you then. Excuse me," he said, nodding at them and taking his leave.

"What if something changes?" Azelma asked. Eponine just looked shell-shocked.

"We'll call you if anything gets worse," the nurse promised. "Listen to what Dr. Brevet said, go home and get some rest," he urged, taking down Eponine's cell phone number and following the doctor out.

"Why don't you come stay with us?" Enjolras offered, looking at Azelma and Montparnasse. "That way, we can all come back together."

He guided Eponine back to her things. She seemed to be in shock.

"That would be wonderful, Enjolras, thank you," Azelma replied, sounding grateful.

Stay wonderful, lovelies!