A/N: Thank you all for following/favouriting/reviewing! It means a lot to me that people are invested in this story!
"I just don't know what to do Grantaire," Éponine sighed heavily, her head dejectedly rested in her hands. The two were alone in the living room while the other amis were spending time with Enjolras trying to trigger his memory with any information they could provide him. The men had all begun to regain their former lives to some degree and though they still had places of their own to live, they seemed reluctant to leave Enjolras' apartment. Éponine knew it was because they wanted to be there for their healing leader, but she also correctly assumed that they were afraid to be alone at night when the horrible memories got the best of all of them. It helped sleeping next to your other surviving comrades who understand exactly the mental and emotional scarring you've suffered. These men weren't just friends, they were brothers. Many of their families had turned their backs on them due to their involvement in the rebellion and they relied on each other now more than ever before.
It was rather late at night a week after Joly confirmed Éponine's pregnancy and she still hadn't come any closer to making a decision about how to tell Enjolras that she was carrying his child. His progress seemed to be slowing; there were no signs of him remembering anything new, even just glimpses, for several days now. Each day that passed only made Éponine feel more desolate. She couldn't raise a child on her own; she lacked the resources and the teachings of a proper motherly role model. She would be scared enough even with Enjolras aware and fully on board.
"You need to try to relax 'Ponine," Grantaire murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "All this stress isn't good for you."
"What I need is a miracle," she muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. It's been getting increasingly more difficult to sleep without Enjolras' strong arms around her, protecting her, and she couldn't close her eyes without being plagued by nightmares. She knew he was experiencing the same dreadful images because he was always tangled in the bed sheets by morning after a night of thrashing around. As embarrassing as it was to admit, she often stayed up and watched him when she was unable to find sleep. He would toss and turn restlessly, then grunt when his healing injuries protested. On a couple occasions, he had reopened several stitches during his night terrors.
"Maybe that is exactly what you will get," Grantaire whispered.
Éponine finally lifted her head to look up at him quizzically. "When did you become such an optimist?" she questioned.
"When we went through hell and somehow made it out the other side," he replied solemnly. "Plus, being sober has apparently improved my mood." A small smile appeared on his face with that added comment. Not a drop of alcohol had touched his lips since his blackout on the barricade. At first he was somewhat miserable to be around, but it turned out that all the men enjoyed Grantaire's presence much more now that he spoke without slurring and didn't reek of booze. His struggle not to chug a bottle of whiskey to drown out the shame he felt for missing nearly the entire battle was sometimes tangible and he had developed a nervous habit of gnawing on his fingernails during particularly stressful times. Joly was concerned he would develop an infection because his fingers were red and peeling during the days Enjolras was unconscious. He tried to convince Grantaire to quit, but Éponine assured him that he needed some sort of fixation and at least this one was healthier than living perpetually drunk. Whatever helped him keep the demons at bay.
Éponine returned his smile before slowly rising to her feet, her hands automatically touching her stomach tenderly even though she still wasn't noticeably showing. Joly estimated that she was only about six weeks along. "Well I think it suits you," she told him earnestly. "And thanks."
"Of course," he said simply.
She shuffled down the hall to the bedroom and swung the door wide open. "It's late," she informed the men, trying to subtly tell them to leave, but not at all succeeding. They continued talking over top of one another and Éponine cleared her throat loudly, finally gaining their attention.
"Aw c'mon," Courfeyrac groaned dramatically, "I was just about to tell Enjolras about walking in on the two of you at the café." He chuckled as both Enjolras and Éponine cheeks flushed red. It was nice to see Courfeyrac smiling again. He had taken Gavroche's death extremely hard. Even Éponine 's immense sorrow for the loss of her little brother didn't quite match up to Courfeyrac's. She took comfort knowing that he was safe now and not going hungry or shivering in an alleyway, plus she knew how proud the young boy had been to help the men at the barricade.
"Another time," she said a little too harshly. She knew they meant well, but she was hardly in a joking mood.
"Fine, mother," he mumbled jokingly. The guys shuffled out the door and Éponine shut it behind them. She drifted over to the chair next the Enjolras' bed and dropped heavily onto the cushion.
"Has anything come back to you?" she asked him hopefully.
"Not really," he responded vaguely. There were deep purple circles under his eyes and his complexion hadn't yet regained its proper colour. The man that formerly stood so tall and commanding still had not been able to even get out of bed. It was wrong, like a caged animal that yearned to be free, Enjolras was not meant to be in captivity. Come to think of it, all the men had begun to act like animals in captivity. They seemed perpetually on edge and unable to control their restless minds, but they felt trapped. They had no room to stretch their legs or hardly even their thoughts in the small apartment, but they seemed to be afraid of the outside.
Éponine could feel hot tears begin to stream down her cheeks, but she made no effort to stop them. She was beyond exhausted and the weight of everything that was going on in her life was pressing ominously on her shoulders. Normally she would have gone to Enjolras to comfort her and to put her worries at ease. He somehow had the ability to get her out of her own head and enjoy each moment, but she knew he couldn't do that for her now. For years she relied only on herself, but in only a few months she had transferred so much trust onto him that she now had to relearn how to cope without him even though he was sitting right in front of her.
"I'm sorry," she blubbered, slumping over in her seat. Though she had done it several times before, she felt embarrassed to be crying in front of him, maybe because she knew how uncomfortable he felt witnessing people's emotions.
"Why are you crying?" Enjolras asked in bewilderment. His face showed a strange mix of concern and absolute horror at her immense display of emotion.
"I need you back," she whispered, glancing up to meet his gaze.
He stared at her for a moment, not knowing how to comfort her. "I need you not to give up on me," he told her at last. It donned on him just how much he truly meant his words. All the time she spent talking to him and caring for him over the last few weeks forced him to realize why he had apparently fallen for her in the first place. She was a young woman of incredible character and strength. She had wit and cunning and was as charming as could be. Éponine was not your average girl and that was what made her so appealing to him. He hadn't admitted it to anyone, but he continued to have flashes of memory involving her that filled him with desire. It felt so fresh as if he was experiencing it for the first time, though from the glimpses he saw, he knew it wasn't. He felt he was beginning to understand their relationship despite still not remembering the majority of it.
"I could never," she replied solemnly. For only the second time since the barricade, Enjolras reached out a tentative hand to grasp Éponine's. The action was starting to feel natural; it felt familiar and comfortable to have her thin fingers woven between his. They both smiled genuinely at each other and Éponine was once again filled with hope that maybe Grantaire was right after all –maybe she would get her miracle.
A/N: Please review! And for those who missed it because I messed up posting it the first time, my tumblr is paradise-bythe-dashboardlight and my aaron/les mis blog is youcantcallmeatwat. So follow if you'd like!
