A Little Bit of Sunshine

Chapter 2

Eponine Thenardier awoke in a suspiciously soft bed, and a pair of eyes were watching her carefully. She was still so worn and hardly remembered much from the afternoon and night previously. The person accompanying her did not go unnoticed. "I am sorry for the sudden notice, M'sieur. I knew of no other place to go that was discreet, nor someone who owed me a favor that would cover such a thing. I am surprised that I am not yet on the street again. Thank you," Eponine said softly. Her voice was rough, and her throat was raw.

Evan Sabret simply nodded his head. He owed her his life, and he held no qualms of saving another's life if that was what the urchin required. "Are you aware that the young man you brought with you had no less than six bullet wounds? He also had a broken arm, which is in a cast at the moment. I am not going to ask how he came to be in such a way, but I would like you to know this fact. As soon as he is able to leave, you must go. I can not be found holding what may be a fugitive in my home. Does he mean something to you, my dear?" The man's eyes shone brightly at the prospect of the waif possibly having something to brighten her world. "You have been here for three days, in case you were wondering."

At Eponine's violent shaking of her head, he simply left the room. Three days? How could she possibly have been at the man's home for three days? She got up from the bed and took a look around the room. The room was covered in wallpaper with bright yellow flowers, something that she felt like Gavroche would have liked. He was always bringing her yellow flowers on her birthday, ever since he was seven years old. The thought made her heart clench as she began to think of the unfortunate life of her little brother.

The gamin had not had a proper life. It wasn't as though Eponine had either, but she liked to pretend that her childhood had been. He had lived on the streets for years and never had enough to eat. The only somewhat happy moment that Eponine had been there for was when the boy had tried some of Grantaire's whiskey at the Café Musain. Gav had thought it to be juice and had consumed the whole thing. Before anyone knew any better, the boy was piss-drunk with all of the so-called Amis laughing at his antics. This left Eponine and Enjolras to take care of him for the night, but she didn't think he remembered it. Hell, she didn't think he remembered her.

She shook herself from the painful memories and left the room. Earlier, it had been so comforting, but now it suffocated her. Moments from the past came and took up all of her mind. She missed her little friend so much, and she missed Marius too much for words. There was only one night where Marius had been hers and had lied her. That night had been a month ago, and Eponine had wished for more like it. Now, he was gone, and he would never know of her love for him. Marius had been drunk that night after a loud night with Grantaire and a few more of the Amis. As far as she knew, Marius did not remember it. Without knowing it, Eponine was on the floor in the hallway of Monsieur Sabret's home, sobbing. She was close to an open door but rather far from her own room. Her heart was breaking as she remembered that night. It became no better as more memories surfaced.

Marius was her world, and now he was dead. Eponine could not imagine how Enjolras could possibly feel. His friends were all dead, and he was somewhat to blame for leading them to the fight. The eighteen year old then felt terrible for thinking such a thing. It wasn't his fault that his little rebellion had failed, bringing with it the lives of schoolboys. She thought about crying again after thinking such an awful thing towards the unfortunate man.

Eponine had hardly ever been one for religion or mass, but she thought that she would be better off reconciling with herself. With that, she got up off of the wooden floor and found her room again. There, she settled down to pray. She prayed for herself, for Enjolras, for Gav, for Marius, for all of the bourgeois boys, and for the people of Paris. All in all, it did her a lot of good to do this.

A soft light fell upon Enjolras's face, and he was roused from his slumber. He wasn't aware of how long he had been sleeping. The last thing he remembered was going inside of the tavern. He never expected to be waking up somewhere that seemed so dingy. The man expected the garden of the Lord to be beautiful, possibly even a garden. Instead, it was a room with ugly wallpaper with a pattern of small purple flowers. There were small stains on the walls, and the floor was in need of a proper scrubbing.

Enjolras could not say much, for his apartment did not look any better, speaking in terms of cleanliness. Come to think of it, he had not thought that he would be in pain here. Now, his right arm was paining him severely while several spots on his abdomen and back that were aching something terrible. He did not think that he was capable of standing, to be completely honest.

The revolutionary then noticed a sound of odd wailing coming from outside of the room. It sounded like an extremely sorrowful sobbing. At that point, Enjolras no longer thought that he was dead. Suddenly, he was struck with a thought. If he was lying here, quite possibly wounded, who was fighting? The barricade had most certainly fallen, taking his friends with it. The physical pain that he had been feeling earlier was nothing compared to this. All of his friends were gone. He knew it; he'd seen them fall - one by one.

Enjolras could not handle this. He was not meant for large amounts of emotional upheaval, anything like this broke him. There were tears streaming down his face now, and he found that he didn't give a damn about them. He had read once that in Ancient Rome it was frowned upon to not shed tears when one's comrades had fallen. Right now, he couldn't imagine not crying after his friends' untimely deaths.

How could anyone do this? How could people growing old watch as their friends slowly succumbed to death? Enjolras knew he certainly could not live through this. In fact, he wished that he was dead. At least then he would be with all of his friends. Who had even saved him? There wasn't anyone in Paris who possibly cared for him, beyond his friends. They were all dead; he needed no more reminders of that. Enjolras had no clue.

All he knew was that his dream for revolution had failed, and he needed so much more information. While in his reverie, he hadn't noticed the stopped sobbing, but he did now. Obviously, this person knew something, and they were the only obvious person to go to for information. The only problem was that he did not think that he was capable of getting up. A small noise of disapproval startled the man.

When Eponine was finished with her praying, she decided to find Monsieur Enjolras. Surprisingly, his room was the room that she had been near during her crying spell. When she walked towards the doorway, she immediately noticed his puffy eyes and desolate expression. It did not surprise her in the least. She also saw that he was trying to get out of bed. Eponine was no physician, but she knew better than to let him do this. She made a small noise and walked inside of the room.

It really was an ugly room, but she did not observe her surroundings any longer. "Please, M'sieur, do not injure yourself any further," Eponine gently pushed him backwards into his pillows and moved his golden curls from his face. She knew he saw it as an invasion of his personal space, but she thought almost nothing of it. "I am sure you are wondering who I am, where you are, and why you are here. I can provide you with those answers and the answers to the many other question I am sure you have. But I will only tell you these things if you will believe me and not lash out at me. Are we clear, M'sieur Enjolras?" She asked with a slight tone of authority in her voice.

At his nod, she began again, "My name is Eponine. My surname does not matter. You and I are being house at one of my acquaintance's homes. He is very discreet, and he owes me his life. We have been here for three days.

The events leading up to this are not very clear to me. I wished to be at the barricade upon that night, but I was unable to be there. When I arrived, the barricade was fallen. I apologize, M'sieur." Eponine took a moment to compose herself.

"It is fine, Eponine. All I ask is that you stop calling me Monsieur. It makes me feel terribly old, and honestly, I do not care for such pleasantries now," Enjolras interrupted the silence. He looked closely at the gamine and said no more.

"As I was saying, there were pieces of the barricades everywhere; there was so much blood on that street." Eponine took a deep breath and continued, "The tavern was worse. The tables and chairs were all completely broken; there were bullet holes in the ceiling. The stairs were broken off, and the only place that was free of the mess was the line where t-the bodies were lying!" She could not go on for the time being and cried in earnest. Her tears were cascading down her face, like that beautiful waterfall in America - Niafra or something similar?

Minutes passed before she was finished. "I am sorry, Enjolras. It is such a hard thing for me to tell you. I will try to tell you the rest," she said softly. With that, she began once more, hoping she would finish this time. "The bodies were in a straight line, and there were so many. Gav- Gavroche was the first, and it just went on: a young boy that I did not know, Feuilly, Prouvaire, another unknown man, Joly, Bahorel, Combferre, Lesgles, two more unknown men, Courfeyrac, three more unknown men, Grantaire, you, and then M'sieur Marius." Her voice shook as she named the schoolboys from the barricade.

"I went to see if M-Marius was still alive, but he wasn't. I had originally gone there to see if I could help anyone, save anyone. Marius was dead, and I was crying. I-I noticed that you were still breathing, and I decided that since I couldn't save Marius or Gavroche, I would help you. I did check to see if there was anyone else still living, but there wasn't anyone. They were all dead." More tears were falling from her eyes while she tried to stop them.

"I carried you into the street and took your vest off of you. I switched it with a soldier's vest. A man helped me carry you to this street for a sou. Carried you the rest of the way, I did. As soon as we were here, I collapsed. I woke up here. Again, I am sorry, M'sieur Enjolras." Eponine wiped her face again and looked expectantly at the man before her.

Enjolras decided that he really needed a drink.

Do I really have to keep putting up a disclaimer or is it alright to only have one for the first chapter? Oh, well. This is the second chapter. It's such a filler chapter to be completely honest. AND the part where Eponine is thinking of Gavroche getting drunk? I think I'll be making that into a little oneshot later. It was a really cute idea that I had, and I just liked it.