I promised! Here you go :)

Thanks for reviewing, everyone - it really means a lot. You lot are the best readers I could ask for.

Sorry I'm being so sappy, sat preparing myself to write the next one - should be up either in next few hours or tomorrow some time. You'll see why when you read it :L

Disclaimer: Noooooooooope.

Montparnasse smirked proudly. He couldn't help it, he was impressed. He watched as she thanked the crowd and climbed down with her friends so that the attention was back on Blondie. He moved to the side of the crowd so that he could see behind the elephant; he saw her friends pat her on the back and hug her, grins on every face. She returned every grin, a blush rising in her cheeks, and then turned her attention back to the man on the elephant. He saw her sharing a whispered conversation with the good-looking one who'd called him beautiful the day he met them all (more curly hair –brown this time. It was like she was collecting them), covering her mouth with her hands to hold back a laugh every so often, clearly having a great time. Her eyes were alight, he could see it from here, along with the joy on her face as she joked on, matching the bloke's crooked grin. It made him wonder if something was going on there.

The thought strangely irritated him.

Blondie was finishing up – he clearly didn't have as much to say this time – and yet more cheers erupted from the crowd as he raised a fist in the air and shouted 'VIVE LA FRANCE!'. He climbed down with a grin, accepting claps on the back and grins from his friends. He said something to another guy – short, dirty blonde hair this time - then walked straight over to Éponine, and started to talk to her quite seriously, his hand on her shoulder making her blush. (This one too!? Éponine you dirty girl). Curls McFlirtygrin smirked and waved the rest of the group over, which gained him a glare from Blondie.

Fuck it, this is as good a time as any. Strolling confidently across the short distance towards them, he approached from behind Éponine. Blondie saw him coming and stopped talking, his jaw set.

'Hey, Nina' he drawled.
Her entire body visibly stiffened as she froze.
'What, aren't you excited to see me?'
She turned around slowly to look at him in the eye. He could see she was on her guard; eyes narrowed slightly, fingers tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. Her friends folded their arms across their chest and stood behind her like a team of bodyguards, glaring at him as though ready to kill him. 'I told you not to call me that. Anyway, what do you want, Montparnasse?'
'What makes you think I want anything?'
'Cut the bullshit, just tell me why you're here. I'm trying to talk to Enjolras.' Blondie's chest puffed out a little. That must be him… Enjolras, eh? Not bad company. Worth a bob or two.
He smirked a little. 'I'm offended… I need to talk to you. Alone.'
'What about?'
'Alone.'
Enjolras cut across angrily. 'What are you so afraid I'm going to hear? If you're here to screw Éponine over again, I can tell you now that's not happening.' He noticed a few of the other blokes, and Éponine looked at him in surprise at that. Interesting.'
'I admire both your sentiment and enchantingly literal turn of phrase, sir.' He found the degrees of surprise and amusement on the faces of the men very entertaining; Enjolras even blushed. Bless. "Nevertheless, I must ask you all to kindly leave us to talk alone, because frankly, what I have to say is none of your business.'
'What is the business?' asked Éponine.
'Nina –'
'She asked you NOT to call her that' Blondie cut across angrily. Again, Éponine looked up in surprise, and this time she also looked a little irritated. Curioser and curioser.
'Look, Éponine, you're going to want to hear what I have to say. If you tell me to, I'll fuck off and not tell you, but I can promise you from the bottom of my heart you'll regret it.'
'You don't have a heart' Enjolras cut across. This time there was definitely anger in Éponine's sideways glance.
'Fine, bring your boyfriend if you want. I'm not after a shag, it's actually fucking important.'
'He's NOT my boyfriend.' Éponine snapped. 'And it's lucky you're not after a shag because you're not fucking getting one. You made your feelings on that front pretty clear last time.'
'Plus, Pony's got standards.' Piped up Curls McFlirtygrin.
Montparnasse was unable to fight down the annoyance. 'Well, clearly I meet them, based on the sex-filled few weeks that followed the last meeting of your little debating club. If you want any details or tips, you might want to ask 'Pony' for them. She's pretty experienced. Or ask for a test-drive… actually, don't. There's no way you meet her 'standards'.' To his pleasure, a faint blush rose on both Curls' and Éponine's cheeks; he decided to run with it while he had the upper hand. 'I've got to say, Nina, you never used to let your boyfriends speak for you.'
Enjolras started to talk again, 'She's never had one worth listening –'
Éponine cut him off angrily. 'NOT my boyfriend. NOT speaking for me.' With a warning glance at Enjolras, she continued 'right, I'll listen to what you have to say. Don't waste my time.' She strode past him without looking at him, heading for an area out of earshot and away from the crowd.
Excellent he thought with a smirk, winking at her outraged friends before turning to follow her.

It was over.
He'd caught her.
They were dead.
She'd failed her baby before it was even born, her hideous, useless body not even good enough to run away. She fought the agony of exhaustion as long as she could, and barely made it around the block. And he'd found her.

She felt him punch her in the gut, felt the crack of her bottom ribs, and a pain more intense than she'd ever known filling her stomach. When he grabbed her by her hair, she hadn't even had the energy to fight. What's the point?

He pulled her along for what felt like miles, muttering threats she hardly heard as he tugged on her scalp. As her energy faded to nil, her mind became a thick fog of self-hatred, so thick it blocked out the outside world.

What would be the point in fighting?
You're alone.
You have nothing left.
No friends.
No family.
No Montparnasse.
Nobody. Alone.
After that punch, probably no baby.
Alone.
Just let go.
What's the point?

She felt the heart leave her, and resigned herself to her fate… whatever it was. What's the point?

Through her stupor of despair, she was vaguely aware that they had entered a building.
She was thrown onto something… a bar stool. More pain; a dull ache she barely registered. Sprawled on the ground, she didn't even bother to get up.

Her father was talking, and a voice she hardly knew was replying, but that was miles away. Was she moving again? Maybe.
Was that a bed? Fine. Probably straight back to work. Who cares?

She hardly noticed her cheeks being squeezed so her mouth would open, and almost chocked on a bitter liquid trickling down her throat with a burn.

Then the pain started, and all she could do was cry.

How is it he always knows exactly how to wind me up?! Fuck's sake, he thinks he's God's gift to fucking women… Éponine seethed as she marched out of earshot. God, and Enjolras! I can fight my own fucking battles! MEN! Folding her arms purposefully, she turned to face Montparnasse. 'Right. Talk.'

'You seemed pretty embarrassed when I mentioned our little dalliance, there, Nina' he smirked at her.
Dalliance? Are you for fucking real?! 'As far as I'm concerned, those few weeks never happened.'
He pretended to clutch his heart in pain 'you wound me, Éponina!'
She was determined not to laugh. 'Good.'
'Has something better come along since, then?'
'Yep.' Sort of.
'Come on then, which one? Is it Curly over there, with the cheeky grin? Or have you gone up in the world, is it Enjolras?' he mocked. She seethed.
'I told you not to waste my time. Contact me again and I'll break your fucking jaw.' She turned to walk away in anger, unfolding her arms. He grabbed her hand to stop her, and she looked up at him in surprise. His ice cold eyes were unreadable.
'I'm sorry. I have real news, I was just interested.'
'You always are when you think I'm getting some elsewhere.'
He grinned 'you caught me.'
Her patience was fading. 'What. Do. You. Want. Montparnasse?'
Out of nowhere, his bravado faded. I wasn't even that harsh… what the-?
'It's Azelma.'

'Well, that's us told.' Courfeyrac declared.
'She's so bloody minded sometimes, I swear to God.' Grantaire grumbled.
Combeferre appeared behind them. 'Err, guys? Who's going next, my speech finished… is
that Montparnasse?' Courfeyrac ran off up the elephant with a jump.
'Yes' growled Bahorel.
'Oh. Is that a thing again?'
'NO.' Enjolras snapped. Of course it's not a bloody thing, that's not ok, why does she never LISTEN, he could be saying anything, for God's sake, she's so stubborn -
'Oh. That's good. So, why is he over there talking to Éponine?'
'Because she's stupidly stubborn and minded and doesn't listen and I don't understand why.'
'….right.'
He tried not to watch. He really did. At least he could be pretty confident she wouldn't be treating them all to a re-run of last time she talked to Montparnasse while she tried to get over Marius. Turns out he's not the cure after all… then again, neither am I.
'Enjolras, are you ok?' Combeferre sounded worried.
'I'm fine.'
'Wow, she looks mad…' Grantaire pointed out. 'What the hell has he said now?'
He looked over. Grantaire was right: if she'd been angry before, now she was livid. Her jaw was visibly set as she spoke, even from this distance, and the usually cocky Montparnasse was cowering. Enjolras decided to go over there and was about to take a step when Éponine turned towards them and started to walk away. He breathed a sigh of relief until suddenly BAM! She swung round and punched Montparnasse hard in the face. A cloud of expletives rose from the group.
'SHIT!' (Bossuet)
'HOLY FUCKBALLS!' (Grantaire)
'NICE HOOK!' (Bahorel)
'GOODNESS!' (Combeferre)
'WOAH!' (Joly)
'SHIT IN A BUN!' (Jehan)
Enjolras' jaw just dropped.

Éponine's stomach dropped at the mention of her estranged sister's name. 'What about Azelma?'
'She's…'
NO! SHE CAN'T BE! 'NO!' she burst out.
'Oh! No! She's not dead! She's… she's… she's pregnant, Éponine.'
'WHAT?!'
'Éponine, he knows. I've left them at the inn, she was telling me, he came in, with –'
You have got to be kidding me, surely not… 'Why was she telling you?!' she barked, cutting him off.
'It's… it's mine.' ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING!?
'WHAT?!'
'It was an accident, I thought –'
This was the final straw. 'NO!' Montparnasse stopped, eyes wide in fear. Éponine felt pure rage and terror coursing through her veins. She had never been so furious in all her life. 'Nothing you can possibly say can justify this, NOTHING can excuse this. Don't even fucking try, you little prick. I don't want to hear it. First you impregnate my underage sister – I don't even WANT to know if this is before, during or after you were riding me like the town fucking bike – and then you LEAVE HER WITH MY ABUSIVE PSYCHOPATH OF A FATHER?!'
'She'll be fine, he's got –'
'NO. SHE WON'T BE FUCKING FINE. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HE WILL DO?! DON'T YOU EVER GET SICK OF ONLY HEARING YOUR OWN WHINY LITTLE VOICE, JOKING ON ABOUT SEX LIKE IT HAS NO CONSEQUENCES? MY SISTER IS PREGNANT AND ALONE WITH FUCKING THÉNARDIER, AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU TOXIC LITTLE PRICK!'
'I thought –'
Her voice was dangerously calm as she cut him off. 'You'd better PRAY he hasn't hurt her. Because if he has, expect a WORLD of pain.'

She burst past him, intending to leave him to stew in his own shitness in the dust. But all of a sudden that wasn't enough, and she spun around, landing a punch square on his jaw with all her strength. 'That's for my sister. And the three weeks that never happened which I'll never get back.'

And with that, she sprinted towards her friends.

Éponine careered towards them, anger and pain strewn across her face, and a wild terror in her eyes Enjolras had seen only once before: the night Gavroche… and Georges…. A feeling of dread filled his gut. Something is very, very wrong.

She reached them, grinding suddenly to a halt. 'I need a ride. Please.' Her tone was frantic, pleading. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and she turned and ran towards the car. He turned to look his worried and bemused friends in the eyes.

'Feuilly, Bossuet, Grantaire, Combeferre – stay here. Ferre, you finish the rally. Joly, Bahorel; with me.' Nobody argued. He knew they wouldn't.

The three men sprinted after Éponine, the winds of dread and fear driving them on. As they piled into the car, Éponine blurted out 'the inn… the Fallen Colonel, down the slums. Do you know -?' she stopped, clearly fighting tears.

'I know how to get there… are you all right, Éponine? What's wrong?'
'It's my sister, it's Azelma, please… please just drive.' With a last worried look at her, he turned the key in the ignition and drove as fast as he could towards the Thénardiers' inn.

I'm intrigued, what do you think?

Back soooon!