Chapter Twenty Three

A/N: Thank you to MusicalTheatreTrash for reviewing the last chapter.

Éponine hated crying, she had done ever since childhood. In the few books she had read in her youth- mostly old volumes she sneaked from her father's stockpile at the inn, taking an hour to work through a single page because no one had taught her how words were meant to look on paper- the princesses spent their days weeping and wailing, waiting for their loves to save them. She had always hated those weak women, determined that when she grew up, she would save herself. Now look at her.

"We'll find a way." 'Parnasse had told her, stroking her hair as she cried. He had repeated those same words over and over, but they were an empty comfort. He would not help her recover Marius from the police; it was too dangerous for people such as them. They would just as likely be thrown into a cell as rescue Marius, and then they would swing on the gallows right beside him. Montparnasse would never take such a risk with her life.

But she knew a man that would.

Éponine waited until her friend was sound asleep, his snores echoing quietly through the small space. His arm had still been strewn across her shoulders, a feeble attempt to protect her from the outside world, but the brunette placed a sack of potatoes beneath it. The sudden absence of heat would wake him before long, but it would buy her enough time to start the long journey ahead.

The building smelt of damp and decay, the smells that had shaped her childhood, near enough. They had lingered even beneath the meat pies and strong ale of the tavern in Montfermeil, no matter how many times her mother tried to scrub them away. Or ordered Cosette to do it for her.

The shabby wooden door was far more imposing than familiar. Memories of the last time she had seen it ran through her mind, fierce as a swarm of bees ready to attack. She fought the worries back. They would do her no good, when there was no other option.

The knock echoed through the quiet building, no other sounds besides the grumbling of disgruntled neighbours. Communities never formed in places like this; the poorest of the poor would skin their neighbours if their hides could be sold for food. It was the awful truth in situations such as these. The students had tried to fight against such poverty, against the rich hoarding all for themselves; and how had it ended for them?

The moment when the lock clicked open seemed to last a hundred years, Éponine's lungs burning with the breath she held. She did not know which of the two awful options could be worse.

She still did not know when her mother stood before her, her hands clasped over her open mouth.

"Éponine." She was whispering, trying not to be overheard. That was a good sign. Or bad. "My own girl. What are you doing here? I told you to stay away!"

"I need help," It was the closest she could come to an honest answer. "And I don't have anyone else to turn to."

"But what about your father?" Madame Thénardier sounded as if she might burst into tears. She had always been a strong woman, statuesque at times. Éponine felt she had seen her mother cry far too many times in the last few months. And it was not over yet.

The shadow appeared in the doorway long before the man, like the lightning strike before the roaring thunder. Éponine kept her feet placed firmly on the floor beneath her; it took all her strength not to run.

"Well, look what we have here." Thénardier looked as if he had found a sack of coins lying unattended in the street. "Finally come crawling back, have you?"

Éponine did not answer. She could not bring herself to say the words. "I need your help. My friend, Marius, he was taken by the police. They know he's guilty, they'll hang him if I don't find a way to break him out of the prison."

"That is difficult." Thénardier agreed. She could almost see the cogs whirring in his brain as he tried to think of how this could work to his advantage. "Dangerous too, trying to break someone out of the jail. One wrong move and the police would have us. So, tell me, my sweet… what's in it for me?"

"I'll come back to the gang." Éponine did not pause for even a moment, making the offer before she had a chance to think about it any further. "You can do anything you want with me then, I'll do anything. Just help me get him free, and I'm yours."

Behind her husband, Madame Thénardier closed her eyes, leaning her head backwards as if she were praying for help. 'God won't listen,' her daughter wanted to tell her. 'He doesn't care about street rats like us.'

The man rubbed his hands together, a twisted smile pulling at his lips. He needed no prayers to achieve his aims; she had played right into his trap. "It's tempting, you know. I've had girls sniffing around the gang for a while now, but they don't know the ropes like you do; they'd just be a liability. And Azelma's useless for that kind of thing. Petty pilfering, forgery, yes… but she doesn't have the strength that you do."

Éponine's stomach turned, bile rising in her throat. Of all the tasks her father had ever assigned her, that was by far the worst. She had volunteered herself, in truth, wanting to save Azelma from the horrors. It had been a worthy sacrifice, to save her young sister from the docks. And it would be worth it again now.

Her mother was wiping tears from her cheeks, trying to keep her sniffling quiet, so she did not redirect her husband's ire. The woman's heart was clearly breaking in her chest. But there was no choice.

So Éponine swallowed back her fear, lifting her chin and nodded.

A/N: 'Ponine would do anything to save Marius, but is this worth the sacrifice? Please review, and you'll find out soon!