42
She came to a little later, with Gavroche still curled up beside her. Hyacinthe had got off her knee at some point, and she yawned and stretched before twisting to look at what was going on around her.
Enjolras and Courfeyrac stood at the kitchen, talking quietly. It was Courfeyrac who spotted her first, and he smiled at her.
"Hello, sleepy," he said, voice soft and gentle and muted, presumably so he didn't wake Gavroche.
"How long was I asleep for?" she asked, gently moving Gavroche away from her so that she could stand. She gently lowered Gavroche back down to the sofa cushions and smoothed a hand over his hair.
"Just over an hour, I'd say," Courfeyrac said. "How are you feeling now?"
"Tired," she said. "But…" She shrugged, not really wanting to say the words I feel less like I'm going to burst into tears.
"I conjured some cake," Courfeyrac said, gesturing towards a slightly wonky and squished looking sponge cake sat on a plate. It hadn't been touched, being completely whole and a pale golden brown in colour.
"We didn't dare touch it," Enjolras said, giving it a slightly wary look.
"That's because I conjured it for you, Éponine, not for Enjolras," Courfeyrac said, in a haughty voice. When he looked at her now he had a serious look on his face, with a hint of concern behind his eyes. "It was just something I thought might cheer you up, but I'm not too good at conjuring food – I completely understand if you feel like throwing it out of the window once you've tried it."
She appreciated the sentiment and told him so, and pulled the plate towards her and broke off a piece with her fingers. She popped it into her mouth and chewed. It had a texture more like bread than cake and tasted vaguely sweet. It wasn't the best cake she had ever eaten, but it wasn't the worst either, so she broke off a larger piece and took another bite, giving him a smile. She swallowed. "Thank you, Courfeyrac," she said. "It's very kind of you."
The grin she got from him in response was as bright as the sun.
Beside them, Enjolras cleared his throat.
"Do you feel ready to explain more?" he asked.
"There's not really much to explain," Éponine said, pulling off another chunk of cake and nibbling at the edge. "Fantine came here, she said she knew I could take her to the living world, she pushed me through the mirror which was actually a Portal and then…She wanted to be with that man as he died. He was Cosette's father, I think? I almost remember him."
"You said that Marius was there," Enjolras said.
"Yes, he was," Éponine said. "I think that he…I think that he married Cosette."
"Good for him," Courfeyrac said. His grin had dimmed somewhat, but it still reached his eyes. "I had high hopes for them – you know, before we were thrust into a life or death situation."
Éponine realised that she was pulling the cake apart with her fingers instead of eating it. "I hadn't," she muttered, darkly, but then she cleared her throat. "Then we came back, and…And we were here, but then she just…"
"You don't need to tell us that part," Enjolras said, gently. "I know what happened."
"I'm not exactly clear on that point," Courfeyrac admitted.
"You don't have to be," Enjolras said. "I'll explain later."
It was a clear warning, Éponine could tell; Enjolras didn't want her to get upset again, and if Éponine was completely honest she didn't really want to discuss Fantine's disappearance any further.
There was a knock at the door. Enjolras went to answer it.
"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was trying to make you go over the events again," Courfeyrac said in a quiet voice. "I didn't think. I have no desire to see you that upset again."
"I don't –" Éponine began, but then she realised that Combeferre had stepped through her front door, closely followed by Éléonore.
Éléonore's hair was loose and tumbling over her shoulders, and she wore no jewellery, just a white night dress with a quilted jacket over the top, pulled tightly around herself, and she wore her boots.
"Éponine," she said, rushing forwards. "Combeferre told me everything – well, everything that he knew – I hope you're all right! I have known Fantine for years and I never thought she'd do something like this, this really wasn't fair on you, not when you don't understand…"
Éléonore stopped in front of Éponine and took her hands in hers. Her quilted jacket fell open, revealing her chest and throat. Éponine's eyes were immediately drawn to the odd, puckered, purplish slashes over Éléonore's neck and chest. It occurred to Éponine for a second that she had never seen Éléonore wear anything that didn't cover her neck, and she imagined that this was why.
But then the thought was gone.
"You could just tell me," Éponine said.
"I could never explain it as well as our expert," Éléonore said, shaking her head so that her auburn curls bounced. "Are you all right, though? Have you slept? You should probably sleep – travel between the worlds of the living and the dead are exhausting –"
"She has slept," Enjolras said.
"I feel all right, just a bit shaken," Éponine said, giving the woman a small smile and trying to free her hands from Éléonore's. Although she had gotten used to the twisted state of one of her hands, she still didn't feel completely comfortable with other people touching it. "What of Valjean?"
"There are Guardians out looking for him," Combeferre answered.
"I'm not working tonight," Éléonore said, finally pulling her hands away from Éponine to close her jacket around herself. "You can probably tell."
"I just thought I would go and see her," Combeferre said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"But I wanted to come and see you, this is so horrible, Éponine…" Éléonore's eyes were big and wide and it was a far cry from the calm, collected woman she usually saw at the Guardian's building. "We need to tell Inès."
Éponine understood, then, why Éléonore was there, and her stomach dropped. She began to shake her head.
"Éponine, please." Éléonore bit her lip. "Inès listens to you – you can get through to her in a way I can't. She'll need someone now Fantine as gone, what with her family…"
Éléonore's gaze darkened at the mention of Inès' family, but then she cleared her throat and shook her head.
"Éléonore, Éponine has been through a lot tonight," Courfeyrac said. "You said yourself, she needs sleep…"
"Yes, of course, I understand that," Éléonore said. "It could wait until morning, but I know that Inès will start to worry soon, Fantine has a very predictable routine these days…"
Éponine looked past Éléonore to the three men that stood behind her. Combeferre still looked worried, Enjolras had a hard look on his face, and Courfeyrac was no longer smiling. She focused her gaze on Combeferre mostly.
He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, before speaking. "Éléonore, as Courfeyrac said, it has been a difficult evening for Éponine. It is possible that talking to Inès now would be even more emotionally upsetting…"
"Combeferre is right," Éponine answered for herself. "I don't think I could…You know she'll only end up shouting at me."
Éléonore bit her lip. "She deserves to know," Éléonore murmured under her breath, and it looked like she was thinking hard for a few moments before she lifted her eyes to meet Éponine's once more and continued, "I will go and tell her myself, but I would appreciate it if you visited her early tomorrow. As I said, she will need all the help she can get."
Before Éponine could respond, Éléonore had stepped into Éponine's personal space and wrapped her arms around her, giving her a tight hug. Then she drew away, holding Éponine at arm's length by placing her hands on her shoulder.
"The expert will be here soon," she said, her voice a soft murmur. "Then everything will be explained and you will understand a little better."
She stepped back, her hands falling away, and then tightened her jacket around herself once more.
"I will walk you to Inès'," Combeferre said, after a few moments had passed.
Éléonore nodded. With one last glance at Éponine, she said, "I hope you feel better tomorrow morning, Éponine."
Then, arm in arm with Combeferre, she left the apartment.
XXX
Éponine woke the next morning in her bed, wearing her usual dress instead of the nightdress she preferred to sleep in. She thought about the evening before, all of it, all the horrible, uncomfortable little details, and Éléonore's instruction to visit Inès the following morning. She then remembered sitting on the sofa again, gently stroking Gavroche's hair, and she supposed she must have fallen asleep again.
She got out of bed and padded across the room to the door. She could hear voices beyond it – male voices, Courfeyrac and Enjolras.
"…You didn't need to stay." That was Enjolras.
"I wanted to. I was worried about her last night, just as much as you were…And then there's Gavroche to think about."
Enjolras made a small noise, and it had Courfeyrac laughing.
"I don't know what you're thinking with this, Enjolras, but I can tell you you're probably imagining it."
Éponine pushed the door open.
"Good morning," she said, rubbing at her eyes.
"Morning," Courfeyrac said cheerfully. "Do you feel better this morning?"
"I don't feel as tired," Éponine said with a shrug.
"Gavroche is still asleep," Enjolras said, hands braced on the table. Courfeyrac was perched on the edge of the table, one foot grazing the floor, his hands linked loosely together over his knees.
"You stayed here all night?" Éponine guessed. "You didn't have to. I would have been fine. I wasn't planning anymore trips to the world of the living."
"Whilst that is a comfort, neither of us minded," Courfeyrac said. "Gavroche woke up not long after you fell asleep and he was very distressed about the idea of you disappearing again…"
Éponine closed her eyes and pressed a hand over her face.
She heard the sound of feet hitting the floor and then looked upw hen she felt a presence hovering over her. Courfeyrac was watching her with an apologetic expression on his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "My mouth gets away from me sometimes – you might have noticed. I didn't mean to upset you."
She wanted to say something, perhaps reassure him about it, but just then there was a rapping sound at the door.
"I should answer the door," Éponine said, walking around Courfeyrac to open the door.
Inès was stood there. Her face was flushed, damp with tears, her eyes swollen, and she was wearing what was obviously her nightdress with mismatching shoes (one boot and one slipper) with a gaudily patterned shawl thrown around her shoulders. There was a handkerchief in her hands and she was twisting it around her fingers.
She barged past Éponine without waiting for her to say she could come in, and flopped down on the sofa, face down, skirts rucking up to her knees, revealing rather skinny legs.
Éponine shut the door behind her and glanced to Courfeyrac and Enjolras. The two men were rather pointedly looking in another direction. With a sigh, Éponine approached the younger girl and pulled her skirts down so they covered her legs and then sat on the sofa near her head.
Inès' thin shoulders were heaving up and down with the force of her sobs. Éponine patted her head.
Inès lifted her face, features all twisted, despair obvious in her eyes. "Why is everything going wrong?" she asked miserably.
"It's not," Éponine tried to deny, but Inès shook her head and scrambled backwards on the sofa, dragging her handkerchief across her nose.
"Yes, it is," she said. "My family is here – and I don't like any of them, they're just as annoying as I remember them to be and Arnaud is so irritating – and my mother won't shut up about the other brother, the one that's still alive, she wants him to be here with us and I'm sick of hearing about him! And then to top it off, Fantine…" Her lower lip wobbled and she buried her face into the back cushions of the sofa.
Éponine glanced over her shoulder towards the two men who were still stood there, looking incredibly awkward.
"Things will get better," Éponine said, a little lamely, giving Inès another pat on the head.
"Do you really believe that?" Inès demanded, voice muffled by the sofa.
Éponine hesitated. "Well," she said. "I don't suppose things can get much worse, can they?"
Inès let out a little gurgle of a laugh, that sounded a little too close to hysterical for Éponine's liking, and then she was sobbing again.
"It's been Fantine and me for so long," Inès said, tipping her head back. There were damp stains on the sofa from where she'd pressed her face into the fabric. "I don't – it's been so long since I've been on my own and I don't know if I can do it."
"You're not on your own," Éponine said.
"I don't consider my family very good company," Inès snapped.
"I agree with you," Éponine said. "They're very annoying and you don't like them, which is fine, but you have…Éléonore, and the other Guardians and…I suppose you kind of have me as well?"
Inès sniffled. "But none of you are Fantine."
"No, but Fantine…" Éponine bit her lip. "We're what you've got, though, and we're not…terrible people to have around."
Inès rested the side of her head against the sofa and closed her eyes. "I need her."
"I think…" Éponine pursed her lips and then said, "I think it might seem like you need her right now, but it will get better."
Inès made a soft huffing noise but didn't respond.
"You know, Fantine asked me to look after you," Éponine said, lowering her voice to just more than a whisper. "Just before she…went."
Inès opened one eye.
"I don't need looking after," she protested. "Not by you. I just need…"
"Fantine?" Éponine supplied, and patted Inès on the head again.
Inès nodded. Her lower lip wobbled again and she pressed her face into her handkerchief. Éponine sighed and let her fingers tangle into the yellow curls on Inès' head, not sure what else she could say.