A/N: This story is a labour of love and I've been working on it every chance I get in between classes and the ridiculous amount of reading I have to do and I'm still so appreciative of every follow/favourite/review and it definitely motivates me to write more so thank you! Enjoy!

Enjolras and Éponine loaded their luggage onto the cart the following morning. It would take them two full days of travelling before they would reach the house Enjolras grew up in north of Paris. Éponine skipped around, her excitement not dampened by Enjolras' lack of interest in making the trip to see his family. She believed him when he said he would take care of the issue of her father wanting his family's money. He didn't divulge details about exactly how he planned to deal with it, but she decided she didn't care, she just wanted everyone she loved to be safe and happy and her father didn't fall into that category anymore.

When she was a little girl, she was pampered and spoiled by her parents, but the more in debt they became, the more harsh and desperate they were. They stopped caring about her as their daughter and treated her instead like a slave. All they wanted was for her to get them money any way that she could even if it meant putting her life in danger. Gavroche and their two youngest brothers were essentially abandoned, left to fend for themselves at such a young age, and her sister Azelma was in much the same boat she was. She felt guilty thinking about her three remaining siblings. She was now living this extraordinary life with Enjolras and she wanted to help them, but she had heard that her sister had run away from home and she never really had the chance to know her brothers. She didn't even know what they looked like anymore.

Her family had failed her, but that did nothing to quell her excitement over meeting Enjolras'. He described them as typical bourgeois and though they sounded like loving parents to Éponine, his disdain for their lifestyle was all too apparent. He also had five siblings, none of which he had previously told her much about. When she'd asked about his brothers and sisters he had said "Older brother and sister, twin sister, and two younger brothers," and stopped the conversation at that. There was an obvious affection when he mentioned the sibling he had shared a womb with, but he seemed reluctant to really discuss any of his family members in much detail so Éponine never pressed him on it. Instead she let her imagination run wild about what they might look like. She pictured them all with similar shades of wildly curly gold hair and bright blue eyes. His brothers would have strong jaws like Enjolras, but his sisters would be softer in appearance with slightly rounder, more classically feminine, faces and rosy cheeks. In her mind they were all beautiful and elegant. She found it intimidating without even knowing if her assumptions were true or not.

At last, they climbed into the carriage and left the city behind. "I really don't understand your excitement," Enjolras grumbled.

"I've never had much of a family," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "I know next to nothing about where you come from. I feel like meeting your family will give me some insight."

"My family will tell you very little about who I am," he responded curtly.

"As much as we both may hate to admit it, we are a product of our upbringing," Éponine said, her tone darkening.

That was the end of the conversation. Enjolras pointed out landmarks and told stories about travelling as a child as they bounced along down the road, getting further out into the country. It was funny to Éponine to imagine Enjolras as a little boy. She had always known him as very mature and very much an adult, so picturing him as a goofy, floppy haired kid and then a lanky, sullen teenager caused her to giggle.

The rode in comfortable silence for a good hour before Éponine spoke up again. Thinking about Enjolras' youth caused her thoughts to drift back to her own childhood. "When Cosette lived with us I was terrible to her. I was a spoiled brat and I paraded around in my pretty dresses and spent my days playing with Azelma and all the toys we had while my parents sold Cosette's clothes so she had to wear rags and they forced her to work at the inn. We ignored her. Treated her like a slave. And then for so many years I resented her for leaving with her father. My life fell apart and hers became a fairytale. I was so jealous and so angry. I spent so many nights wondering why he came for her and why he didn't help me too. I was horrible."

"You were a child, Éponine," Enjolras replied gently, placing his hands on hers comfortingly. "You didn't know any better; you can't be so hard on yourself."

"It's true though," she responded, staring out the window blankly.

"I was a difficult child to say the least," Enjolras finally said after a long pause. Éponine waited with baited breath for him to continue. Maybe he was finally going to discus his upbringing with her. "From an early age I disagreed with the lifestyle we lived. I remember when I was eight we made my first trip into Paris. Out in the country we were sheltered from all the poverty that the city has on full display. I found it revolting; all those people starving and desperate. I asked my father why all those people were sleeping in alleyways and wearing rags and he told me it was because they were beggars who didn't work for a living. He blamed them. He said we were better than them. I said 'but they're people like us' and he just scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Even at eight years old I knew it was heinously wrong. My parents never understood my keen interest in uplifting the public condition. You can imagine their disdain about the rebellion."

Éponine suddenly felt indignant towards his father. Most of the people on the street would love to work for living –they were not lazy and unwilling to get a job; there simply were no jobs. Stealing and cheating were the only ways that they could feed their families and live another day. The idea of blaming the poor for being poor boggled her mind.

"And now you're bringing a peasant home as your fiancée," she whispered with a sad laugh.

Enjolras put his arm around her and let her lie down with her head in his lap. "What happened to all that enthusiasm?" he teased. His voice was light, but he was admittedly nervous. He watched the sun fall behind the rolling hills of the countryside and tried to keep his head. This was a bad idea and he should not have let himself be talked into it.

"I still want to meet them, I just don't want to cause more issues between you and your parents. I don't want to be the final straw that cracks your relationship irreparably."

"If they can't see how magnificent you are and how happy you make me then I don't need them in my life anyways."

A/N: Up next…. Enjolras' family! Please review!