A/N: Another short one. Sorry. The other chapters get long, I don't know why I keep doing that, but I'm caught up with myself so they'll be published quickly. Thank you for all the kind reviews/favourites/follows, I'm absolutely thrilled, you guys are awesome.

Enjolras whipped his gun out from where it rested on his hip, aiming it straight at the girl. Her eyes didn't flinch from his, bearing into him with an unsettling strength.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm not the one you want," she sighed, beginning to pace lightly in wide circles around him. Her feet moved delicately, soundlessly, barely dusting the floor before rising again. It was the walk of a ghost. "I'm afraid they left long before you arrived."

"Who. Are. You." he repeated, patience declining. Finally she turned to face him, a light smirk playing at her lips.

"I'm the girl," she stated as if it were such an obvious explanation. "Didn't they tell you about me?"

"Oh, they didn't," she realised as she looked at his confused expression. A small bark of laughter escaped her. "Man, your friends really sent you in blind, didn't they? They know all about me. I may be good, but even I've been caught enough to have a solid record behind me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he admitted, keeping the gun trained on her.

"My my, you really are unprepared, aren't you?" she laughed, resuming her dance around him. "You want my father, right? Seeing as I'm the gang-member-in-training to most people, they tend to think I'm important. Has my status been lowered?"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest you right now," Enjolras threatened, his mind buzzing with the flood of new information she had provided. Father? Thénardier had a daughter? Why had no one told him this?

"Because," she sighed, stopping her soft steps to face him again. "I may be the only person who hates my father as much as you do. I have no interest in hurting you or anyone else."

"Why should I believe you?" he pressed, but his finger lightened on the trigger. The girl sighed heavily, rolling her eyes at him as she tugged up her shirt to just below her breasts, revealing her torso to him.

The entire right side of her ribs were mottled with bruises of every colour; green, purple, yellow, and black blotches roughly smeared against her skin, like some grotesque finger painting. Thick white scars marred her in intricate overlapping patterns, accompanied by several fresher, bright red ones clearly more recently inflicted. Bones jutted out against her translucent skin, her hipbones digging out of her like knives. The sight of it made colour drain from Enjolras's face and his stomach churn.

"Don't think I have enough reason to want out?" she asked blankly, unfazed by her revelation. "Because this isn't even the main reason I'm doing this. I'm willing to work with the FBI or whoever you're working for, in exchange for my immunity. Or anything, really, I just really want to see my father shut in a cell for good this time."

Enjolras processed her words, still staring at her now-covered stomach. He had seen a lot of things, but something about how casually the girl showed the evidence of her abuse made bile rise in his throat. Slowly, he lowered his weapon, but kept firmly in his hand.

"I need evidence that you're unarmed," he told her, gesturing for her to raise her hands above her head. Ignoring him, she pulled a knife from her back and let it clatter to the floor.

"That was all I got," she promised, but she finally raised her arms. "I mean, I'm wearing shorts and flip-flops, you should be pretty satisfied that I can't be hiding anything, but be my guest."

Tentatively, Enjolras made is way toward her, one hand still holding his gun against him. He didn't bother with the full pat-down, satisfied by a quick glance around her; she had a point, there was no where to hide anything with her light clothing. He didn't admit to himself that he was somewhat afraid that she would shatter under his touch.

"I'll extend you some trust," he offered, stepping away from her. "But don't think you've gotten a full allowance yet. I need you to come with me."

The girl smirked at him, extending a hand out to him. He grabbed her wrist, contemplating whether or not to handcuff her. He tried not to be bothered by the way she kept staring at him, eyes burning mocking holes into the side of his head.

"They call me Éponine."