A/N: Is anyone still reading this? Please leave reviews or some sort of feedback. It will be greatly appreciated.

I apologize in advance for this chapter. The verbal and physical violence on and off page may be intense. But nothing is easy in this city, or for these characters

Chapter 12: The Fall You Cannot Break

Ever since she's become a junior consultant, Eponine now makes her rounds in two steps: first with her patients in the hospital's so-called 'private' wing, and then with her patients who have consented to be confined in the teaching wards. 'Then there are those patients who I have to meet alone,' she thinks the following Monday morning as she walks up to the nurse's station at the hospital's top floor. "Good news Doc E. Stable vital signs all night," one of the nurses reports cheerily as she hands over a chart.

"Thank goodness," Eponine says as she begins reviewing the orders and events from the night before. It's not a pretty picture; her patient still stands to be confined for at least a week, but it is rosier than that of 48 hours ago. All the same she grits her teeth, since the task she has at hand is far trickier than most operations she's done. "How is Miss Gardner doing?" she asks.

"Pretty good," the nurse says. "This is for the downstairs office, isn't it?"

"Yes, and basically every agency that will be involved in the investigation," Eponine replies. Everything hinges on whether she can gently draw her patient out to tell her harrowing story, whether in a trial or just as a deposition. 'The latter might be better since she is in hiding, but the first may have to be part of the terms for her asylum,' she realizes with some distaste as she knocks on the door. Fortunately these legal decisions are not for her to make.

She finds her patient Clara Gardner sitting up in bed, with the blankets drawn up to cover the bandages that swathe her below the waist and both her legs. She would be stunning if not for her still starved frame and the gauze dressing that now covers the left half of her face. "How are you, Clara?" Eponine greets warmly.

Clara starts but quickly settles once she sees Eponine. "Are you here to deport me, Doc?" Her accent is not melodious or nasal, but somewhat more open and a little stressed, quite unlike other intonations in this part of town.

"No. What gave you that idea?" Eponine asks as she finds a chair.

Clara gives Eponine a sidelong glance even as she allows the doctor to check her over. "I've heard that you're the doc that talks to the lawyers and policemen. Aren't they the ones who do that stuff?"

"Not them," Eponine assures her. "They're here to help you, Clara, if you can tell them how you ended up in this city."

Clara shakes her head. "They'll kill me. You only get lucky three times, I've already used up two."

"Who told you that?"

"My mother. Didn't yours teach you anything?"

It is all that Eponine can do to keep a straight face at this jibe. "If that was true, I'd be a zombie by now," she says softly. It must be the right thing to say since it makes Clara snort. "Your mother is wise though. That sort of thinking keeps you sharp."

Clara smiles wanly. "You going to tell that to your little one there?"

"No, I'm going to teach him or her to be more careful," Eponine says. She tugs down the hem of her scrub top, knowing it won't be long till she'll have to let this garment out. "But really, how are you?"

"I can't sleep. Can you give me something for that?"

"You're already on a lot of painkillers, Clara."

"I need something to make me sleep so I won't see them, ever."

Eponine bites her lip at the desperation in the girl's voice. The words 'I understand' do not leap to her lips, since she is not one to say that she knows exactly the agony that Clara has to relive; no one does. "I can't do that. It would hurt you more. But I'm going to try to help you make sure that those people won't come after you again," she finally says.

"Everyone says I'll be safe with them," Clara whispers. She bites her lip as she holds back a sob. "That's what they told me the day I left home."

"Who's they?" Eponine asks gently.

"The ladies. They said I could find good work." The girl trails off and shakes her head again. "That's what they told my mother. She didn't believe them. So I left."

Eponine swallows hard and nods. "Where did you go?"

"Here," Clara says curtly. "I was told to get on a cruise ship, and then when I got to the beach I was given a ticket to the river ferry." She starts twisting the blanket. "I don't know the name of the woman who gave me the ticket."

This information only unsettles Eponine further but she has to keep a straight face for Clara's sake. "But why were you running at the pier?"

"I knew I wasn't supposed to be there, and I didn't want to go with those ladies anymore. They still got me anyway." Clara's lip begins to tremble. "Now I can't go home. No one will want me there."

"You'll get somewhere safe," Eponine says. 'Sometimes it's not home,' she thinks. This is a feeling she knows all too well. "When you leave this hospital we'll find a place."

Clara nods but it's clear from her demeanor that she is unable to let on anything more, at least just for today. After a few minutes Eponine takes her leave, making sure to leave instructions in Clara's chart to keep her more comfortable and rested. 'Not yet,' she decides as she sends a voicemail to her partner, explaining Clara's present situation. The last thing she wants is to set her patient back all for the sake of a lead in this case.

After this she heads downstairs just to check if there are any patients due to be admitted for surgery. The floor is a little quieter than usual today, owing to the fact that this summer's batch of new interns has yet to start their tour of duty. As she walks into the emergency room she notices Navet at a table, signing off one chart after another. "Someone's looking benign," she jokes as she punches his shoulder and takes a seat. "What have you got?"

"Lots of asphalt related injuries. No one to be admitted yet though," Navet replies. His ruddy cheeks go even redder as he glances towards where there is a lady tending to an elderly gentleman in a nearby bed. "There's an old college friend."

Eponine snorts as she elbows him again. "Why don't you talk to her, maybe after work hours?"

Navet goes even redder. "What if she thinks I'm a creeper?"

"There's a way of going about these things-and no, you don't need to ask my brother or the other guys for help there," Eponine says lightly. "Maybe you ought to meet up with her someplace where you can actually get a word in edgewise."

"So does this mean no getting you guys to join a group date?" Navet asks in an agonized voice.

"If your idea of a good first date involves ramen and poetry that isn't safe for work, then I'm sure that our friends would be more than willing to help," Eponine retorts. She nods knowingly when Navet goes red again. "You're best off finding a common interest."

"Tabletop gaming?"

"Hey, that's a good way to spend an evening."

"Maybe," Navet mutters before he signs a chart. He nearly drops his pen when he sees Combeferre now walking into the emergency room. "I still don't have news about the referral from downtown."

"Don't worry, I coordinated it myself. The patient will be arriving here in fifteen minutes," Combeferre replies candidly as he holds up his phone. He gives Eponine a concerned look. "Is everything alright?"

"Mostly, on the surgical front," Eponine replies. She bites her lip before she can let on too much about Clara's plight especially in this rather public place. "Any word yet from Ari?"

Combeferre shakes his head. "She won't let even you and Auguste visit?"

Eponine shakes her head. "She said she'd tell us when she's ready to meet up." Everything about Courfeyrac's encounter with Ari is unsettling, and admittedly Eponine would give a lot to be able to resolve the mystery. 'If only for everyone's peace of mind,' she tells herself, but she knows this can only be possible if her gut feel is proven wrong.

"Doc, there's someone here to pick up Officer Delaney there," a nurse calls from the station. "Says her name is Officer Hooper."

Navet groans as he gets to his feet. "Officer Delaney is in the holding room. I'll deal with him." He flips one of the charts to allow Eponine and Combeferre to view some of the details. "Mechanism of injury: motorcycle versus stationary pole. Place of injury: Precinct Nine office. Time of injury: Eight in the morning. Injuries sustained include lacerations to right upper arm and right leg knee all the way to ankle. Patient is fully conscious with a GCS of 15, no signs of fractures on x-rays of head, neck, right upper arm, and right lower extremity."

"Was he wearing a helmet?" Combeferre asks.

"No. Rule Number One broken."

"As usual. Alright, let's have a look."

Eponine goes to follow them but also catches sight of the blonde woman agitatedly filling out a form at the nurse's desk. 'Grantaire wasn't kidding about Bahorel's thing for blondes,' she thinks mischievously as she approaches the desk. "You're Karen Hooper," she says by way of greeting.

Karen pauses in the middle of signing the paper and looks up at Eponine. "How did you know?" she asks. She nods as she gets a look at the name stitched on Eponine's white coat. "Still haven't added your married name yet, Doctor Enjolras?"

"Call me Eponine. It's much less confusing," Eponine quips. "So it was a road accident that brought your colleague here?"

"I wish it was. He was just trying his new bike," Karen whispers, but her long-suffering look tells the rest of the story. "Boys will be boys."

"You're the only lady cop in the precinct?"

"No, only on the SOCO team. I'm sure you can relate."

Eponine chuckles as she waits for Karen to finish filling out the forms. "So how long have you been in the SOCO division?"

"Three years," Karen replies with a grin. "It's better than working a desk or traffic beat. A lot of the girls get stuck with that since it's supposed to be safer."

The thought makes Eponine cringe. "To be honest, I get a lot of your male colleagues here and that seems to throw the safety argument out the window."

"I keep saying that if we girls were involved in more assignments we'd get things done faster thanks to multitasking," Karen says with a shrug. "That's just my opinion; I know it's not true for a lot of people on the force."

"It's sensible though," Eponine concurs. "So when are you next meeting up with Bahorel?"

"Remy and I-"" Karen begins before trailing off awkwardly. "You do know?"

"You know guys can't really keep that sort of secret." Eponine jokes. 'Though perhaps there's more if she's still sticking around even after her team's part in the case is over,' she wonders even as she watches Karen go off to talk to Navet. At length she sees Combeferre walking up, clearly on the verge of laughter. "What do you think?" she asks in an undertone.

"They have a long way to go," Combeferre says. "At least they're starting something."

"Do you like her?"

"Enough to meet her again."

"You're an even worse critic than Auguste can be," Eponine points out. "That's the teacher in you."

Combeferre rolls his eyes before he flips through the charts Navet has left on the table. "Who's the next consultant on deck, you or me?"

"Me." Eponine stretches as she checks her watch. "While nothing is happening, I'd better get some lunch. I've already as good as jinxed the ER by being here."

"We're never going to escape being part of the Toxic Quartet," Combeferre groans.

"What would you rather do, give up your consultancy?" Eponine gets to her feet and laughs at Combeferre's discomfited look. "See you guys later."

It's just past eleven in the morning, a little early to be getting lunch, but Eponine figures she may as well avoid the noontime rush. 'The better to actually be able to sit down to eat,' she tells herself as she finds a seat at the counter of the Bienvenido Trattoria, a small place located three blocks away from the hospital. It's one place in town where she knows she can get reasonably priced and edible pasta, which is always a good change from the noodles always being served up at the cafeteria.

Halfway through her meal, she gets up to fetch herself a drink of water from the self-service station. When she returns to the counter, she finds another person already sitting there at the seat next to hers. "You're looking well, Doctor," Claude Enjolras says coolly as he sets down his phone.

Eponine's grip tightens on her glass. "What are you doing here?"

"That's no way to greet your father-in-law. Why don't you sit down?" Claude replies. His words would be almost convivial but his expression is anything but welcoming. "You should not be walking around so much in your condition."

"I do feel fine, thank you for your concern," Eponine said. She moves to grab her plate and find another seat but to her dismay the entire trattoria is occupied. "Are you getting anything?" she asks him tersely.

Claude waves her question away. "So you're still working at Saint-Michel?"

"Yes. I have a consultancy there," she replies tersely.

"I had thought you would seek other opportunities, now that you have completed your residency," he says intently.

"I prefer practicing in this city. Consultancies don't come easily and I'm intent on doing well in mine," Eponine answers.

"Are those your only plans?" Claude asks. "What about other training opportunities? You are still relatively new to your field."

"I'll get to it soon enough, just not immediately. My training won't necessarily be only for trauma surgery either," she says, all the while willing herself to keep a level tone.

"Now don't be so acerbic, my dear. I do mean well," Claude says. He brings out a calling card and his check book. "I am sure that a girl of your talents has better things to do than to stitch up rats and hooligans. I have contacts in Berlin, Switzerland, and even in London. They can help you get fellowships with the medical societies there. I can even help you with the initial expenses."

She gapes at him, wondering now about the impetus for this offer. "I don't need that. I can get good recommendations on my own merit."

Claude scoffs. "I'd take this chance if I were you." He slides the check book across the counter to her. "If it's not trauma surgery you want, then you only have to name the field. I can help you there, to go anywhere in the world."

"You have not mentioned Auguste in this discussion," Eponine points out. "This concerns him too."

"It's none of his business. He's busy with his law practice after all, isn't he?" Claude insists. "I am only trying to give you a good opportunity-"

"For as long as it will get me away from him," Eponine cuts him off. "Is that what you want?"

"What I want for him is none of your business," Claude snaps more coldly. "Though that never seemed to matter to you. You may have married him, but you will get nothing from it." He pauses to survey her scornfully. "You don't look too far along, thankfully. You had better find someone to get rid of it if you're going to take my offer."

Eponine shoves the check book back at Claude. "I think we're done here."

"You stupid, insolent girl!" Claude hisses as he slams his hand on the tabletop. "I offer you a chance to better yourself and you throw it right in my face?"

"If it's to better myself on your terms, then I don't want it," Eponine says slowly, but loudly for other people in the vicinity to listen in. "Leave me alone."

"You will not tell me what to do!" Claude barks before backhanding her violently. It is enough to catch Eponine off-guard, leaving her unable to break her fall before her head collides with the edge of the countertop.