I'm back! I hope everyone had a really lovely Christmas (if you celebrate it, if not, then just a nice... break? I don't know. Sorry!) and I wish all of you all the best for the New Year! Thank you so much for sticking with me all this time, you're all fabulous :)
Special thank yous to MaryEvH for being adorable and lovely and amazing (go read her story, it's awesome), Yuthika for being fab and listening to my ramblings, to Smiles1998 for being adorable and having a broken (nearly) nose, and to Jodie for being downright fab.
Happy 2014 everybody! I hope it's the best year for you yet :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Les Miserables, and the song is Somewhere in Neverland by All Time Low (not mine). If you haven't heard the acoustic version of this song please go now it's more important than this, omg it's beautiful.
The strength of the Thénardier family never failed to amaze Enjolras.
Éponine held his hand tightly until they reached the car where her little brother was waiting, when she gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand before letting go. He could do nothing but watch in chocked up amazement as she knelt down to Gavroche's level and took his hands in hers, before telling him simply but gently what had happened: Azelma was dead. He could hardly recognise the sobbing wreck of five minutes previously when presented with the determinedly calm, loving sister drying a ten-year-old's tears by the side of the road. She didn't shed another tear, determinedly strong for her last remaining sibling.
Gavroche cried and hugged his sister for no more than 2 minutes. When he abruptly stopped, leaning back to check Éponine was ok, he surprised them all. Bahorel put a hand on his back and said quietly "it's ok to cry about it you know, Gav. She was your sister."
The little boy shook his head as though extremely tired. "It happens. She was neva strong as Ép, or clever as me. If she was, she'd 'ave got out ages ago. I'm not cryin', 'cause I'm not surprised. I fink I always knew one of us'd get it in the end, that's why I ran away." And true to his word, Enjolras hadn't seen another tear from the young boy who was more cynical than any ten-year-old should be.
Jacques, though an honorary Thénardier, had never met Azelma properly, and so wasn't grieving. His strength showed through when he distracted his best friend all the way home, then whispered to Enjolras and Éponine that he would look after Gavroche during the night, in case he had bad dreams. Though both young boys still had the fresh faces and lanky limbs of childhood, Enjolras realised that day that they were both as wise and strong – if not more so – than a man twice their age. They've been raised well he thought and it's not hard to see who by.
Éponine's determined maternal strength lasted all night: until the boys were both fast asleep; through the visit to the hospital to identify the body; even while she collected the few possessions her sister was carrying from the nurses. The only crack in the mask was the flash of fear when she was told the police would be in touch, but even that was resolved with just a reassuring smile from Joly. Enjolras could hardly believe what he was seeing. Surely this can't be it? She can't be ok? Is she really done grieving already?
It was 1am and Enjolras, Éponine and Combeferre were sat around the kitchen table at the apartment, silently nursing beers. Nobody quite knew how to break the silence.
Éponine finished her beer first, and then excused herself to go to the bathroom. As she stood up, she thanked them both for the day, eyes lingering on him for a second or two before she turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Combeferre and Enjolras sat still, not saying a word. Enjolras' eyes stayed glued to the closed bathroom door, and he said quietly "I don't know how she does it."
"Stays so… strong, you mean?"
"Yes. If you'd seen her, when Azelma died… it was… she was inconsolable. And then all of a sudden, it was like she just flipped a switch and stopped grieving."
"I think it's a kind of coping mechanism. You do it too, you shut everyone out and pretend you're fine."
"But she's not fine."
"No. And I think it'll all come to a head at some point, so we'd best keep an eye on her."
"Yes."
"Did… it doesn't really feel like the pressing issue now, but… did you talk to her? When you left the café?"
Enjolras' hand clenched tightly around his glass, and he took a swig of his drink to buy some time. How do I answer that? No but I found her singing in the rain about another guy and then we had a brief conversation about it where she got pissed because I agreed with her, and then her psycho ex-lover turned up and she got pissed at me again, then he proceeded to tell her he'd impregnated her sister, who then died. "Not really… we had a brief conversation at the rally but… I don't know. I don't think I'm who she wants, to be honest. She seemed pretty cut up about Marius and Cosette."
"Oh. Really? I got the impression she was well over him."
"Yeah… it erm… doesn't look like it."
"Are you all right?"
"Course. You know me, I don't do women anyway."
Combeferre regarded him wordlessly from above his beer, an eyebrow raised. Shaking his head, he finished his beer and went to bed with nothing more than a "goodnight Enjolras".
Enjolras stayed where he was, thinking hard. If he was honest, he hadn't even thought about it since Montparnasse had turned up. She'd definitely been pissed at him – she might have forgotten about it now, of course, but at the time – when he'd said they weren't like that, even though she had said herself that's what she thought. Then she'd so determinedly said "NOT my boyfriend" and looked so mad when he spoke up for her. But then AGAIN, during the rally, he'd thought… and when she'd clung to him after Azelma…
It was all so very confusing. This was why he didn't do women.
Éponine was exhausted. The calm front she'd put on for Gavroche had completely tired her out; her gut was a swirling mass of emotion she couldn't get out somehow, even after she watched her sister die, then saw her body in the morgue… it still hadn't sunk in.
It wasn't like she kept expecting her to text or call – she'd given up expecting that months ago – as much as it was that it just hadn't hit her that her sister was gone. Forever.
It was the soap that did it. Azelma had always used strawberry scented soap (she said it smelled like summertime), and therefore buying it was a habit for Éponine, which she apparently hadn't shaken yet. She went to wash her hands at the sink and there it was. She could smell it, it filled her head and her chest and she couldn't breathe; it smelled like childhood, playing in the gardens at the old house, and the fun times at the inn when her parents weren't there or were drunk… it smelled like summertime. And it smelled like Azelma.
A huge sob swelled up in her gut and burst out as she picked it up and gripped it in her wet hands. Tears were threatening to spill out and her heart felt so heavy it might fall down through her body and crash through the floor into the flat below. Suddenly emotions she'd been hiding for hours built to a level so smothering and consuming she didn't know what to do, so for lack of a better idea, she threw the soap full force at the bathroom mirror. To her surprise, it helped, so she picked up a few more things – Enj's razor, toothpaste, a bottle of shampoo – and she threw them, too: they landed with crashes all over the bathroom. The shampoo bottle burst as it hit the side of the bath and spread a pale blue gunk over most of the floor.
She hadn't realised how angry she was, how furious it made her that her baby sister had to die, broken, malnourished and abused in a frozen, filthy street. She was fifteen! She'd barely started living, and what little living she had done had basically been wrecked by other people, even though she'd done nothing wrong. Fury as strong as she'd ever felt bubbled up in her veins as she thought of how even she'd forgotten about her, how Montparnasse had taken advantage, how her father had taken her away to be butchered by fucking Abortion Bob in some dingy hovel in San Michel. She couldn't change what had happened, and now she could never apologize to her sister, never make it right. She was so angry.
Enjolras heard the crashes from the bathroom, and jumped up immediately, dashing to the bathroom door. Éponine! He heard the sobs and hesitated, before knocking quietly on the door.
The only answer was another crashing noise. I need to get in there. He tried the handle and found it was open (Thank GOD) and stepped into the room.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little shocked by what he saw: Éponine, with wild hair and a fierce look on her face, was throwing various objects around the room in apparent fury. The floor was covered in what looked like shampoo and toothpaste, the mirror was covered in unidentified splashes and powders, and Éponine herself wasn't exactly clean anymore.
It occurred to him that he had absolutely no idea what to do, just as she turned and noticed him.
"What?! Here to tell me to stop?! To calm down?! Well I won't calm down! My sister is dead! My FIFTEEN YEAR OLD SISTER! AND IT'S ALL!" She threw a talcum powder (why do we have talcum powder?!) "THEIR!" There went Gavroche's toothbrush. "FAULT!" A bubble bath was smashed into the tiles. "I'LL KILL THEM, I SWEAR, I'LL KILL THEM ALL!" She made to burst past him, and acting on instinct alone, he grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her, gently but firmly holding onto her just at the top of her arms.
"NO! NO, LET GO!" She shouted at him as she punched him repeatedly in the chest, ferociously trying to pull back and run away. "LET ME GO! GET OFF! LET ME GO…." Her shouts dissolved into unintelligible sobs and she put her hands up to her face as her shoulders shook. Enjolras pulled her into his chest, and she sobbed and sobbed so hard he thought her whole body might break along with her heart. She wrapped her arms around him, and tucked her face into his shoulder, crying her heart out. He kissed her head gently, stroking her back with his thumb, but mostly he just held her.
He heard Combeferre come out of his room, and whilst he couldn't see what his best friend was doing, he felt a reassuring hand briefly grip his shoulder before Ferre returned to his room. Enjolras took this to mean he was doing something right, which was a bit of a relief.
Eventually the crying died down, and she gurgled out "what am I going to do, Enj? My baby sister…" Enjolras just kissed her head again and whispered back "everything's going to be ok"
"but she's never coming back, I can't… I can never… she's gone, everyone goes, why can't I…"
"Shhh, you'll be ok, Gav's here, your friends are here, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
"That's what everyone says, and then they go" she sobbed.
He bit back the pity that swelled up inside him – she doesn't want pity – and simply replied "I'll never leave you, Éponine."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise."
It must have been half an hour, but eventually the tears ran out, and Éponine fell silent. She didn't let go, and Enjolras didn't want her to, but he was very aware that they were stood in the bathroom doorway.
"Éponine?"
"Mmmhmm?"
"It's late, do you want to go and get some rest?"
"I…" she hesitated, clearly unsure of what to say. "I'm… scared."
"It's ok, you're safe, nobody's going to hurt you."
"I'm scared… to… to go to sleep. What if I dream about –"she stopped herself. "I don't want to be alone. Will you stay with me?"
"Ok. Do you want to go through to the living room?"
"Ok"
She pulled back, rubbing her sleeve onto her cheek to rub at the salty tracks running all down her face. He smiled a small smile at her, then took her hand and led her to the sofa. They sat holding each other together on the sofa, and she snuggled into him again as he wrapped a woolly blanket around her shoulders. They were silent for a few minutes, and then she said quietly "I just wish I could've told her I loved her one last time"
"She knew, Ép. She knew you loved her."
"But I left her alone, alone with my parents… I never told her, I forgot about her, I –"Éponine started to cry again, gentle tears of heartbreak, so Enjolras shushed her and stroked her hair. He had absolutely no idea what to say. What would Éponine say?
Before his brain caught up with him, he was singing to her quietly.
Wendy run away with me
I know I sound crazy, don't you see what you do to me?
I wanna be your lost boy
Your last chance, a better reality
Wendy we can get away
I promise if you're with me, say the word and we'll find a way
I can be your lost boy, your last chance
Your "everything better" plan
Somewhere in Neverland
He heard her whisper quietly through her sniffles "I wish Neverland was a real place. I could do with a place like Neverland right now."
Enjolras smiled and whispered back "maybe it is."
He felt her smile. "Maybe."
They were quiet for a minute or two, before he said quietly "Éponine, if it wasn't for you, Azelma would have died alone at the side of the road. Because of you, she got to have her last few minutes with her sister. She knew you loved her. If she didn't always know, she knew when you ran full pelt through the slums of San Michel to find her."
Éponine didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. She just held onto him a little tighter.
Neither of them said any more, but before long they were lying down; Enjolras' back against the sofa and Éponine curled under his arm, the blanket around her shoulders. Neither of them noticed when they eventually fell asleep. Éponine didn't have any bad dreams after all. In fact, she didn't have any proper dreams at all. She just slept deeply and peacefully all night, feeling safe, warm, and inexplicably… ok.
I hope it's all right, let me know what you think, pleaaase! Last reviews for 2013! :)