A/N: Sorry this chapter isn't going to be any happier. Please continue to review! I really appreciate all the follows and favourites!

"How do you not know me? What are you talking about? Joly, what is he talking about?" Éponine sputtered, looking back and forth between the golden haired man who glared at her in uncertainty and the medical student who was looking at her pitifully. By this point the rest of the men had gathered to greet the now awake Enjolras. He had greeted them all with a small, but genuine smile, his eye alight with recognition as he took in the amis familiar faces. It was far different from the look Éponine had received.

"He thinks that it is last September," Joly stated as calmy as he could, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Éponine… I'm sorry, he seems to have no memory of your entire relationship."

"What relationship?" Enjolras cut in. His eyebrows were furrowed in a confused line as he glanced back and forth between Joly and Éponine, the corners of his mouth pulled down in a frustrated scowl.

"Are you kidding me?" she sobbed, looking at Enjolras with a horrified expression. "Is this some sort of sick joke because if it is, I need you to stop it right now!"

"I assure you mademoiselle, I do not joke," Enjolras said to her disdainfully, "Please stop your hysterics, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Enjolras, it's June 9, 1832," Combeferre said softly to his closest friend. Éponine sobbed into Grantaire's chest and he wrapped his arms around her small frame, his eyes on Enjolras. If he had held her like this a few days ago, Enjolras would have strongly disapproved of their contact, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention to the sobbing young woman anymore.

"What on Earth do you mean?" Enjolras questioned. Nothing they were saying was making any sense to him.

"The rebellion ended three days ago," Combeferre said slowly, trying to gauge Enjolras' reaction. "You were shot multiple times and fell and hit you head. It must have affected your memory. You cannot recall any of the last nine months?"

His eyes were wide and he thought for several long minutes before he spoke. "This cannot be," he muttered almost to himself. What they were saying explained the immense stabbing pains he was feeling across his upper body, but it was impossible to think that he couldn't remember any of it. "We just held the first rally, the revolution cannot possibly have already taken place! Surely I would remember the event I've dedicated my life to!"

"It has indeed happened and it will give you great pleasure to know that we succeeded," Combeferre informed him.

A smile graced his pallid face for a fleeting moment before his eyebrows drew together once again as he looked around the room. "Where is Bahorel? And Feuilly? Lesgles? Pontmercy?" His voice grew more frantic with each name.

Everyone gazed sadly downwards, not wanting to look him in the eye. Combeferre finally said, "We are not certain of Marius' fate, but the others…"

"They perished at the barricade," he murmured, finishing his statement. "Was their anyone else lost?"

"Gavroche," both Éponine and Courfeyrac said in unison. Enjolras put his head in his hands and took several deep breaths before looking up at the room full of people again. His eyes went straight to Éponine.

"What is your name?" he asked softly.

She wiped the tears from her face, looking incredibly hurt that he had no recollection of her. "Éponine," she muttered hatefully. Though she knew it wasn't his fault, she was furious with him. He may not have died, but it appeared that the life they had together, did.

"What relationship where you speaking of?" It was obvious he was trying to remain calm, but Éponine could see the emotion boiling beneath the surface. He was frustrated and confused, but he was making an effort now to be sensitive to her feelings.

She put a hand over her eyes, feeling oddly embarrassed. "You asked me to marry you the day before you were injured."

Enjolras scoffed. "Impossible," he stated with so much certainty that Éponine had to dig her nails into the palm of her hand to stop herself from crying all over again. "I'm dedicated to freeing this country, I never would have begun a romantic relationship with any woman." He glanced around at his friends, looking for assurance that he was right and Éponine was just some delusional woman who had attached herself to him, but none of them were laughing with him in disbelief of her outrageous fable.

"She isn't lying," Joly murmured.

"You are so happy together," Courfeyrac added, "Nine months ago, I never would have believed it either, but you're quite taken with her."

"It's true, Enjolras," included Combeferre, "You two have fallen in love quite fantastically. She is a large part of why we won the rebellion because of all the support she brought in. We had so many people fighting on our side thanks to her."

Enjolras' eyes were wide in disbelief. He couldn't process the massive amount of information they were unloading on him. "May I be alone please?" he said in a monotone voice, no longer making eye contact with any of them. He was beginning to withdraw into himself right before their eyes. Éponine longed to go to him, to hold his hand and kiss him and tell him everything would be okay, but this wasn't her Enjolras. She didn't even recognize the way he looked at her.

"Of course," said Joly, ushering people out of the room, "this is a lot to take in. He needs his rest in order to heal and he must be feeling incredibly overwhelmed. Try to be understanding." Everyone except for the medical student left the room. He hovered over Enjolras, checking his stiches and changing his bandages.

"This cannot be real," Enjolras muttered, rubbing his eyes and wincing as Joly's light touch hit a sore spot, which seemed to be most of his body. Joly gave him something for pain.

"It is," he responded sympathetically. "Éponine has been an absolute mess with worry. She's barely left your bedside this entire time."

"I don't even know her, Joly."

"But you did, and she knows you -better than anyone perhaps. We were all just as surprised to learn of your relationship as you are now, but it is so apparent to everyone who sees you two together that you are meant to be. I've never seen you so happy."

"Did I really ask her to marry me? Out of genuine love?"

"Yes. You were both extremely thrilled. Éponine had been shot, you were terrified you were about to lose her –you were crying even after you knew she would live. You decided you wanted to publicly declare your love and be tied together in everyway possible. She had already won your heart and you wanted it to stay that way forever. If you ask me, whether you regain your memory or not, you will find your way back to each other."

Enjolras fought back tears. "I wake up to discover I have forgotten a whole nine months of my life, including the rebellion I had dedicated myself to, which has killed several of my friends, and on top of that I have no memory of this woman I'm supposedly in love with?" It was too much, he felt like his head might explode. All of it was too much to wrap his mind around. Falling in love with this apparently random woman seemed so unlike him.

"I'm sorry this has happened to you, Enjolras," Joly said earnestly.

"Will I get my memory back, Joly?"

"I hope so, but really it's impossible to say. I'll leave you alone now." He placed a comforting hand on his friend's should for a brief moment before turning on his heal to leave. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned back to look at his friend. "Don't shut her out. If you're going to regain your memory, talking with Éponine is probably the best way to go about it. Make up for lost time." He turned back and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

A/N: AHHHH! REVIEW! I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible!