A/N: I'm glad you guys liked the Éponine/Grantaire stuff in the last chapter. They're totally my brotp haha

Éponine looked up at him affectionately. "I love you," she murmured looking nearly overcome with exhaustion. Her shirt was soaked through with blood from the wound she had incurred and her complexion was ghostly, but somehow she was still radiant with life.

"Marry me," Enjolras could hear himself say to her. "Marry me?" he repeated. An astonished look crossed her pallid face and she fretted aloud about being an embarrassment to his wealthy family, but he brushed off her concerns. "So my proposal stands," he concluded looking down at her expectantly.

Her eyes welled with tears and excited, "yes" escaped her lips twice in a row before she began planting kisses excitedly on his face. His heart felt swollen with pure undulating joy.

The happiness was abruptly cut short. He was swept up in battle, taking out soldiers with his gun as they wheeled in canons. "Second canons, FIRE!" he shouted and his men all gripped their triggers. Several guardsmen dropped to the street, but more kept coming from around the corner and the canons were fired in their direction. The lifeless bodies of several men flew from their perches on the barricade and more anger welled within Enjolras. As the guards advanced they began climbing the mound of furniture and the fight became more hand-to-hand, beating off men with whatever was available to him.


Éponine was woken abruptly by muffled shouts. She pulled herself upright, only just realizing that she had fallen asleep in the chair at Enjolras' bedside. Her back ached from the cramped position she had assumed during the night and it cracked as she straightened it. Enjolras was thrashing wildly in bed, his face buried in the pillow so that it stifled the pained noises escaping from his mouth. He looked so distraught in his restless sleep instead of peaceful and serene and young like he used to when Éponine woke up before him and admired the smooth plains of his face, the usual tense lines relaxed away with deep slumber.

Her body yearned to comfort him and in her exhaustion and desperation for him to calm down and not cause any further harm to himself, she gave in. Rising slowly from the chair, careful not to make any noise, she tiptoed to her side of the bed and gently pulled back the covers. She slipped underneath and silently tugged the blankets up to her chest. She hesitated, worrying that he might wake up and yell at her for climbing into bed with him. It took several agonizing minutes of internal debate before her need to comfort Enjolras won out over her fear of him becoming angry. Hesitantly, she reached out a hand and tenderly stroked his cheek. His body seemed to relax under her soothing touch and his face, scrunched up in pain, smoothed to a more tranquil expression. Gradually she shifted her entire body until she was just barely touching him. Seeming to somehow sense her presence, his arms instinctively encircled her causing Éponine's heart to flutter anxiously. She smiled and rested her head against his chest before quickly drifting into a dreamless slumber.


Enjolras' eyes fluttered open and he blinked several times against the light that came streaming in through a gap in the curtains. He felt better rested than he has in weeks and he was about to stretch out his arms when he noticed the slim figure lying within them. Éponine's breathing was deep and even, her face looked young and worry free with sleep. Her long brown hair was thrown wildly around her like a shield. After several minutes of studying her face, Enjolras grew uncomfortable with their close proximity. As much as he wished not to wake her, it wasn't like he could crawl out of bed and leave her undisturbed. He was about to snake his arm out from underneath her when the dream he'd had came rushing back to him. He couldn't be sure if it was a fictitious rendering of his imagination or an actual memory, but he was sure of how it made him feel. The indescribable joy that filled his heart when Éponine uttered the word 'yes' made things terrifyingly real for him. He didn't know how to be in a romantic relationship. Did him and Éponine have their own little couple rituals or agreements? Were they affectionate in public? Or worse, did they write each other love notes or poetry? Enjolras' heart raced uneasily as these thoughts filled his head. He suddenly felt too hot and nervous to lay still. Pulling himself into a seated position as best he could, he longed to leave the apartment just to roam the streets of Paris and clear his mind. He'd barely had any alone time while awake and he was desperate to figure out his thoughts without an audience weighing in.

The shift of weight on the mattress woke Éponine from her slumber. She quickly realized that Enjolras was not only awake, but he was staring down at her with an unfathomable expression on his face. She returned his gaze guiltily; she'd been caught. Wondering why he didn't immediately wake her and throw her out upon finding her in his bed, she sat up and waited for him to get angry with her, but he just stared with a gaze so intense Éponine averted her eyes and shrunk down beneath the weight of it.

"I remembered," he said at last, his tone uncertain. Éponine looked up at him to see his cheeks slightly flushed.

"What did you remember?" she asked him cautiously. He seemed very uneasy.

Looking flustered and embarrassed he glanced away from her, as it was now her turn to stare him down. "Proposing," he stated.

She drew in a slow breath. "And?"

"It doesn't quite seem real." They sat there silently for several minutes before he added, "I remember fighting too… And seeing men fall. Their deaths are on my hands."

"That's not true, Enjolras," Éponine immediately protested.

"It is," he insisted.

"No, they chose to fight because they believed in you and in your cause. They knew the risk they were taking and they did not lose their lives for nothing."

"What would you know?" Enjolras felt an unexplained anger towards her growing inside of him. "Maybe if you had not been a distraction to me at the barricade they would have survived!"

Éponine gasped and leaned away from his as if he had just slapped her across the face. She began yelling back her defense, "I'm part of the reason that so many of the wounded did survive! I was helping Joly in the café!"

"Well you weren't shot it the café, now were you?" he sneered, "No one has told me exactly how that happened." He gestured to the jagged, healing scar across the side of her abdomen; this was the first time he had seen it since the barricade and only because Éponine was wearing a man's shirt that had ridden up during sleep, unbeknownst to her. She stared down at her wound for a moment, contemplating his words in silence.

All of the fire to defend herself against his harsh accusations quickly died. "I saved Marius' life," he whispered, still not looking at him.

"Then where is Marius now?" Enjolras asked, his voice equally soft.

"We don't know," she sighed, rubbing a hand across her tired eyes, "His body was not accounted for, but no one saw him walk away from the barricade either. He was still there when Courfeyrac and I left to take you home."

"What awfully stupid action did Pontmercy do for his life to require saving by you?"

"He was climbing the barricade with a keg of gun powder and a lit torch and-"

Enjolras cut her off abruptly, "What on Earth was he thinking?"

She ignored him, looking exasperated, and continued where she had left off. "He didn't look up to see that one of the guards had his gun pointed directly at him. So I grabbed the barrel of the gun as the shot was fired. No one even saw; Marius did not even notice. I fell to the base of the barricade, but he continued climbing to the top. It was my understanding that he threatened to blow up the entire blockade in order to get the National Guard to retreat for the night." Enjolras just watched her for a moment, seeming unsure of how to respond so Éponine added, "It worked too. They fell back."

It turns out that when Enjolras did not respond it was because images were rapidly flashing through his mind. He saw Éponine slumped over and clutching her bloodstained shirt. He felt terrified and helpless and he thought this would be the end of their life together. Oh, the relief that washed over him when he was certain she would make it through. Every emotion he had every felt for her –both positive and negative- came bursting to the surface like swimmers coming up for air.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he murmured, pausing briefly to consider his words before continuing, "But I wasn't. And I never wanted to. So I asked for your hand in marriage."

It sounded like he was speaking to himself now rather than Éponine, but she responded anyways. "And I said yes. I would always say yes." He looked down at her, trying to make sense of everything going on in his chaotic mind.

She sat there with him for several more minutes before climbing out of bed and heading for the exit. She opened the door to leave, but stopped. "If there's anything else you need to know…" she murmured, leaving her statement open ended and left, shutting the door behind her to leave Enjolras alone with his thoughts. She needed to be alone with hers too. The other men had heard their yelling through the door and she just had to escape their looks of concern for a while. She went to the bathroom and tugged on one of her dresses while trying to figure out where to go, but she didn't care; she didn't have a specific place in mind so she just left the apartment, throwing an "I'll be back," over her shoulder as she went.

Let it be clear that Éponine was not trying to run away from her problems. Just imagine being cooped up with a group of rowdy and emotionally devastated men and the man you love who doesn't remember you. It was too much for anyone to take, but Éponine was handling it. Seeing the peasants on the streets and the grimy places she used to rest her head at night reminded her just how strong she really was. If she was going to get through this and potentially raise her baby without the help of it's father, she would need to draw on that strength that was firmly embedded within her. She may not have resources, but she could find them. It wasn't as if all the amis would leave her high and dry on the streets caring for their friend's child. Even if they did, she knew how to be on her own and she was tired of wallowing in self-pity –it wasn't in her character.

A/N: I don't know about you, but I'm quite fond of this chapter. Please review!