A/N: I'm even more fond of this chapter than the last one so I hope you guys are too! Some big things are about to happen.

Éponine returned home less than two hours later to what appeared to be an empty apartment. She stood in the living room confused for a moment when a sudden crash in the bedroom caught her attention. She rushed down the hall, hearing Enjolras' voice muttering underneath his breath as she neared the door. She twisted the knob and flung it open without thinking to knock.

"Oh," she gasped upon entry. Enjolras stood in his undergarments with his back to her, his hand gripping the window frame so tightly to support his weak body that his knuckles were turning white. "Where is everyone? What are you doing out of bed?" His knees looked like they were about to buckle after weeks without use. She rushed to his side, but he held out a hand for her to stop.

"You should have knocked," he muttered, looking over his shoulder at her.

"I'm sorry, I just heard a bang. Did you fall? Are you alright?" She looked him up and down with concern.

"I'm fine. I just need to regain my strength."

She nodded her understanding, but he did not see it with his back still facing her. "Where are the others?"

"They received word from Marius and left to meet him. I assured them I would be fine on my own for a couple of hours."

"Marius is alive? That's excellent!" A huge weight felt lifted from her chest. Though she had more than enough of her own problems to deal with, she had been worried about Marius and wondered if he had made it out alive to reunite with Cosette.

He nodded slowly. "It's a huge relief. From what little information the letter gave away, I'd say life is treating him quite splendidly."

"I'm so glad," she said genuinely, smiling to herself. Enjolras shifted his weight uncomfortably, still without looking her way and her smile quickly disappeared, a look of concern replacing it. "What's the matter?"

He sighed heavily and straightened up, loosening his grip on the window ledge and turning his body so that she could see him square on. Éponine's jaw fell open at the sight of his bare chest and she brought her hand to her mouth in an attempt to disguise her shock and horror. "I didn't want you to see," he murmured, looking sad and ashamed. She counted the eight distinct scars across his torso, including one on his left bicep that were surrounded by healing, discoloured skin. Without thinking, she closed the gap between them and placed her hands on his chest. Her fingers lightly traced the jagged lines in his flesh, her eyes wide in amazement. He shouldn't have survived this.

"It's a miracle," she whispered to herself.

"I should have died," Enjolras muttered harshly, but he didn't move away from her touch. "What kind of leader allows his men to be killed while he is carried away to safety?"

"You didn't have a choice," Éponine said sharply. "I wasn't about to let you die on me."

"What do you even need me around for?"

She looked down at where her baby bump would soon be too noticeable to hide. "More than you know," she whispered.

"I don't deserve to come out of this bloody battle with a beautiful woman in love with me and no memory of the carnage. If I had to survive, I should be forced to face the destruction of life I caused alone and miserable."

Her heart fluttered briefly at his assessment of her, but it quickly faded to anger. "Is that what you're doing? You're going to punish yourself for surviving?" she gawked at him. "Oh what a grand martyr you are, having to carry the heavy burden of the barricade on your back. What a noble man to force himself to live with what he has done. Praise thee," Éponine grumbled sarcastically.

Enjolras rolled his eyes at her dramatics. "You don't understand," he muttered. "My thoughts might have changed since meeting you, but my memory is of expecting to perish on the barricade –to die the leader of the rebellion that changed France. Now here I am alive and nothing makes sense. Somehow I've come out of it with even more to be grateful for and it only adds to my guilt."

"I lost friends too –I lost my brother," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "You think I don't feel guilty for surviving when he didn't? He was a child! But I can't dwell on it because I have things to live for and so do you."

They stood in silence for several long moments. Éponine's hands were still rested on Enjolras' torn flesh. Where it used to be smooth and creamy it now resembled Éponine's with its wear and tear from a life on the streets and her father's abuse. The marble man finally had a flaw, but the scars themselves weren't ugly -they just told an ugly story. Besides, it didn't matter to her; he was still the most beautiful person she had ever laid eyes on. "I'm sorry," he murmured at last.

She rested her head against his chest for a moment. "Me too."

Enjolras took a step back and Éponine let her arms fall to her sides. "May I be alone to dress?"

"I've seen you much more indecently," she replied, a playful smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. The tension between them immediately lightened, neither was in the mood to hold up an argument.

His cheeks flushed, but he smirked as some of the flashes of him and Éponine's intimate relationship came back to him again. He had never really had sexual thoughts for any woman before, but he couldn't deny the lust these memories filled him with. For a moment he considered pulling Éponine back against his chest and kissing her –creating new memories so to speak- but he quickly thought better of it. Oddly, part of him feared she would reject his advances. He allowed her to stay in the room though and help him dress. His body ached with every movement and threatened to give out at any moment. By the time he did up the last button on his shirt he was exhausted.

"You really didn't need to get out of bed," Éponine murmured, looking up at him with genuine concern. "No one expects you to just get up and go after only a few weeks of rest. Your body still needs to heal."

"I couldn't sit in bed a minute longer without completely losing my mind. Can I at least get a change of scenery and sit in the study instead?" his tone was light and joking, but his desperation to be free of his bed was obvious.

"Of course," she replied with a smile, taking him by the arm and slowly guiding him down the hall.

He slumped into the leather chair seated behind the large wooden desk and tried to quiet his breathing. It was incredibly embarrassing to him that he was winded after only walking such a short distance and at an exceptionally slow pace as well. He knew his body had been out of use for weeks and that it made sense for him to be fatigued after such minimal effort, but if he was being honest with himself, when he decided to get out of bed this morning part of him thought he would be able to leap right out of bed and march around confidently the way he had before –clearly this was not the case and he was, in fact, subject to human frailty.

"Would you like me to bring you anything?" Éponine asked once he was settled, a large book in his hands.

"No, I'm well thanks," he said shortly. A frown tugged down Éponine's face, but Enjolras already had his eyes buried in the pages. He was reverting back to the politeness and formality with which he spoke to strangers. Trying to follow his rapidly changing emotions and thoughts was near impossible. One minute he was almost like the man she remembered –the one who loved her-, the next he treated her like a mere acquaintance, and then he would be suddenly furious with her with little provocation. Patience was not one of Éponine's many virtues, but she knew he needed her understanding and support more than her anger and resentment. It wasn't his fault after all. She turned to leave him alone, but just as she was about to close the door behind her, she heard a small, "Éponine?"

She spun back around to see Enjolras looking at her seriously. He looked so sad and weak that it broke her heart to see him that way. "Yes?"

"You said before that we both have things to live for. What were you referring to?"

She swallowed hard and considered lying, but decided against it. She couldn't hide it forever and he should hear it from her. "Our baby," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Enjolras' mouth fell open in shock. "Baby?" he repeated.

A/N: Whoa! Well Enjolras knows now, how do you think he's going to take it? Let me know! Review!