So all of my wonderful followers can proceed to throw every rotten vegetable known to man at me for being absent for many months. I am terribly sorry. I could not think of what to write and got lazy for awhile. Honestly, I haven't been writing at all lately. I've gotten through my first semester at college. I am majoring in commercial aviation and will hopefully have my private pilot's license by the end of next semester. And I now have two high school diplomas. One from my high school and one from the international baccalaureate program. If any of you know what that is, you will understand my absence (at least before June). I cannot account for this summer aside from the many vacations that kept me from my computer. Then college. I really have no excuse, so I'm sorry. I will be more active. I'm going to be putting up at least one chapter every week, and if I fail at that, you can yell and scream at me to your hearts content. So, please enjoy this longer chapter (well, longer than the other ones) and please review! ~Camden

Eponine placed a wet cloth on Cosette's warm forehead. The doctor had said she would live if her body could fight infection and if she would keep her head and not let the ordeal overpower her senses. Eponine knew Cosette was strong. She had survived living in terrible conditions with Eponine's family for years. Strength was not the issue. Infection could be a problem as Cosette's fever rose. The bullet had pierced Cosette's shoulder, but the doctor had assured them the wound was not fatal unless of course it became infected. Eponine helped clean the wound every few hours, but somehow Cosette was still developing a fever.

Eponine felt a presence come behind her, and she turned away from Cosette's sleeping form to come face to face with Enjolras. She grimaced at his black eye but said nothing. Marius had been generous about his anger towards Enjolras, but it was still her fault he had been hurt at all. She supposed Enjolras thought he deserved the blow or even more than that solitary punch from Marius.

"Did you need something Monsieur?" Eponine asked politely avoiding eye contact with the man. She really did hate herself, but apparently it wasn't enough to tell the truth.

"Is-is she improving? Will she live?" Enjolras asked, his voice strained and almost timid.

"I do not know Monsieur. We can all hope she will, but her life is not in my hands."

Eponine started to leave the room, but Enjolras's warm hand on her shoulder stopped her. "A moment please, mademoiselle."

"It's Eponine. I'm no lady," she reprimanded. Enjolras raised his eyebrows but did not question her further for which Eponine was grateful. It had been two days since she had seen her father. She hadn't heeded his request for double the money. Instead, she had gone back to Cosette's house being careful to hide her tracks knowing her father would put Montparnasse or some other idiot on her tail. Of course, her father already knew where Jean Valjean lived, and she had no doubt that he would try again to get revenge. It was only a matter of when he might come calling. And this time, she wouldn't be able to scream and save Cosette and her father.

Enjolras led her to the elegant couch in front of the fireplace away from Cosette's bedside. Eponine sat on the couch and frowned at how stiff it felt. She supposed it was meant for looks more than it was meant to provide comfort for a girl who was trained to sit straight.

Eponine squirmed nervously in her chair. She knew what he was going to ask, and she knew that she could not give him a truthful answer. It had been two days. Her hidden truth would stay buried for the time being.

Enjolras cleared his throat and turned to face her. Eponine noted he had created an appropriate distance between the two of them so that in no way could they accidentally brush each other. "Mademoiselle, I must ask, and please answer me truthfully, why did you run?"

His voice was soft, but Eponine heard him loud and clear. She was also caught off guard. She'd been prepared for questions like "why did you kiss me?" or "why did you come to find me?" Not why she ran after kissing him. That she did not have a prepared answer for. That she could not explain because she honestly did not know herself. Perhaps because she was terrified of her father or because she has no one else to turn to or because it was the only thing natural for her to do. But none of those were answers she could give him because it would involve telling him everything which is something she could not afford to do.

Eponine bowed her head refusing to stare into his hard brown eyes. "I always run Monsieur."

"And yet you always return," Enjolras muttered scratching his chin. "You may run, but you always find your way back."

Eponine turned to look at him eyes wide. How was it he was able to describe her in a few simple words. It was true though. She would run from her father but always return because she was too scared of him to actually leave for good. He would find her no matter where she tried to hide. Enjolras didn't know that though, so why did he say that? Eponine watched as he stood up and paced in front of her.

"You were running away that night Marius returned, were you not?" he asked. "You only returned to show them back here."

Eponine shook her head trying to limit his accusations.

"And after you—you, well, that, you ran, but you still returned." Enjolras stopped directly in front of her and knelt down to look her in the eyes. "I said you were brave because you came back to the barricade after running from it. You are brave to come back and face me, but I must know, why did you run in the first place?"

Eponine hung her head and removed Enjolras' wallet from the folds of her skirt and thrust it in his hands. Her own hands tingled as she brushed his own, but she thought nothing of it after seeing Enjolras' confused look.

"This is mine," he said blankly and Eponine fought the urge to laugh.

"Yes monsieur, it is yours," she said smiling slightly while he frowned and opened it. Seeing all its contents still in place, he glanced at her.

"Why did you have it? Did I drop it somewhere?"

"No, monsieur. I took it from you," the words flowed off her tongue easily. She had stolen so many things, but never had she given what she stole back to its original owner. Most everything she pickpocketed went to her father.

"And may I once again ask why? Why did you take it?"

His voice was surprisingly calm and void of anger at least for the time being. Eponine could not help herself. She started laughing. The whole conversation was not going at all how she had thought it might and for the first time in her life, she didn't know how to get out of telling the truth. She decided she might as well feign madness and at least delay what needed to be said. She continued to laugh as Enjolras stepped away.

"Are you well, mademoiselle?" he asked cautiously.

Eponine hugged her stomach and started to hiccup slightly as she stopped laughing. "I'm really not sure, monsieur. I do not feel at all like myself."

"Perhaps you should rest. I'll take my leave now. Inform me of Cosette's progress please." With that, he got up and walked out quickly shutting the door behind him. Eponine doubled over with laughter once more before she sank back into the uncomfortable couch. Cosette was no longer the only one in need of a doctor. However, Eponine did not think a doctor could cure her problems. Her list of misdeeds and dishonesty was far too long. No wonder she was losing her sanity. She didn't know how much longer she could stay with people she could not tell the truth to.

Enjolras slammed the front door loudly as he walked out of the ridiculously ornate home that belonged to Marius' savior. His life was tearing at the seams. The few threads he had managed to hold onto were practically broken in two. Marius had not spoken to him once after punching him hard in the face, and Enjolras had avoided him, determined to give him the space he needed.

Enjolras sat down on a stone bench in the house's perfectly sculpted garden. Clearly, Cosette had plenty of time on her hands to keep the garden in pristine health. While the garden and the house itself provided a peaceful and serene place to think and reflect, Enjolras would have much preferred the loud and cloudy din of the ABC Café right about now. With all his heart he wished he could go back and plan the revolution differently. He never meant to cause the slaughter of his friends some of whom were barely men yet.

Enjolras put his head in his hands as he tried to block out the memories of that night. He almost wished Marius had killed him or better yet, that he had died on the barricade with his companions. He should have died as he was responsible for every death, friend or foe. The hurt was so real. He could hear the bullets humming past and the rifle tips clanging. He could hear the angry shouts of the enemy and the strangled cries of his friends as one by one they fell to the ground around him. And it was all his fault. He had filled his head with glorious thoughts of triumph in a well-planned revolution, but he had acted too quickly as he let his mind become consumed with the idea of overthrowing the French monarchy. How could he have been so thoughtless, so careless?

Submerged in his thoughts, Enjolras had failed to notice the presence of Cosette's father beside him. Somewhere during the inner turmoil going on in his mind, Monsieur Fauchelevent had come to sit next to him on the stone bench. Enjolras straightened and faced the older man, but looked beyond him with eyes void of any emotion that might betray the way he was feeling at the moment.

"You blame yourself." Cosette's father had not phrased a question, but merely pointed out an observation. Enjolras bowed his head in shame.

"Of course I do," he answered solemnly. "How could I not?"

"Their deaths are not your fault, nor should you keep them burdened on your heart."

Enjolras opened his mouth to argue, but the man raised his hand to stop him and continued, "You did not force them to help you, and you even told them they could flee the barricade when the revolt started to go awry."

"But, sir, I-"

"God is the sole being who can take away life and give it. He knew their life stories before they even had a chance to live them. He knew exactly when they would die and by whose hand. None of your friends' deaths came from your own hand; therefore, you are not at fault."

"And your daughter's injury, sir? Who do you blame for that?"

Cosette's father put a hand on Enjolras' shoulder and bore into his eyes. "You were acting out of madness and grief. I do not believe you would ever willingly harm my beloved Cosette."

"I would not, but I must-"

"You have already apologized and I have already forgiven you. What's done is done. You cannot change the past, only the future." With that, Cosette's father dropped his arm and stared off beyond the fence into the distance as though reliving some memory where he might have learned that.

Enjolras did not know what to say. This older gentleman seemed to have much more experience with such things. Perhaps he had many regrets as Enjolras now did but had learned to move past them with time.

Monsieur Fauchevelent turned back to him. "You question why you did not die on the barricade with your friends, do you not?"

Enjolras nodded slowly. Of course he did. He should have been the one to die over all of them. He was their leader, yet here he was fully alive and barely hurt. Why had the Lord allowed him to live? Surely his life was not worth more than any of those fallen men.

Monsieur Fauchelevent interrupted his thoughts. "You were saved because your time on earth is not finished yet. Unlike my life, yours is just beginning. Perhaps the Lord spared you so that you might save many others one day with your bravery and strength."

Enjolras fought the urge to snort. No one wanted their lives to be saved by a man who practically abandoned his fellow revolutionaries to die without their leader to drive them away from the flames that licked their bodies as they lay frozen in terror trying to keep death at bay. Cosette's father might have more experience regarding forgiveness and redemption, but Enjolras knew people. And people, excluding Monsieur Fauchevelent, were much less forgiving and quicker to judge.

Enjolras stood up. "Thank you for everything you've said, Monsieur. I shall think about it all, but I cannot promise you I will forgive myself or shed my burdens. What you have said has enlightened me, but it is only words. Tossing blame aside is easier said than done."

"Monsieur Enjolras, do not be so quick to push aside my words. They hold great weight. I too have experienced many losses that were inadvertently caused by me, but I long ago realized I cannot carry the past on my shoulders. Sooner or later, your burden will become too heavy to bear."

Eponine awoke with a start to hear Cosette weakly calling her name from the bed. Eponine was surprised she had fallen asleep on the stiff couch, but she supposed her body was still exhausted from all the healing it had been doing this past week or so.

Eponine quickly scurried over to Cosette's bedside and poured her a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table. Eponine helped Cosette sit up without bumping Cosette's tender shoulder. Cosette took the glass and greedily drank it all down in a matter of seconds. When it was gone, Cosette sunk back into the pillows and sighed in exhaustion.

"How late is it?" she asked Eponine meekly.

"It has to be after 2 judging by the placement of the moon outside," Eponine replied quietly. "How are you feeling?" she added.

"Terrible. The last time I was in such physical pain was when your father-" Cosette cut off her sentence abrupty and looked at Eponine in horror as if some terrible revelation had entered her mind. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. "He transferred his drunken beatings to you! That's why you hate me!"

Eponine shook her head vehemently. "I don't hate you, little lark."

"How could you not?" she cried. "And to think I was so happy to leave that home not even realizing he would turn his monstrous appetite towards you, his own flesh and blood!"

"Cosette!" Eponine yelled in a harsh whisper. "Keep your voice down! Someone will hear! You cannot speak of this to anyone."

"Marius must know or suspect. He used to see you every day."

"Yes, he knows, but your father and Monsieur Enjolras do not, so please say nothing."

Having Cosette reveal Eponine's true parentage and background would cause unnecessary questions mostly from Enjolras who she had already hurt too much to further damage his life. That was what Eponine excelled at though. Dragging people down with her as she spiraled uncontrollably towards the gates of hell.

"Oh Eponine!" Cosette shook her head.

"I do not want your pity, Cosette," Eponine said sharply. "You need to rest more. That excitement probably caused your temperature to rise. Sleep until morning. Monsieur Marius will be at your side when you wake."

"Eponine, you can run away."

"Sleep Cosette," Eponine said firmly. "I cannot run. My father always finds me, and I have no means to make a new life elsewhere."

"You have us," Cosette yawned.

"If only that were true," Eponine muttered under her breath. Cosette heard nothing, for she was already fast asleep once more.

Eponine sighed and walked to the window where she looked out beyond the garden to the street. All was dark except for the small glimmers of light from several street lamps. They burned lightly throwing many places into shadow. The shadows were not what scared Eponine. It was what lied within them. They would come for her eventually, and by the time they did, Eponine would be long gone as would everyone else in this house. She would tell Cosette's father of the possible danger in the morning.

Before Eponine could step away from the window, Eponine saw movement near the fence where Cosette's vines were thickest. When Eponine squinted to get a closer look she saw nothing. She would have thought it was her imagination, but she noticed a slim scrap of paper poking through the fence between two vines. Eponine frowned and opened the window letting in a light summer breeze which she hoped wouldn't wake Cosette.

As silently as she could, Eponine clambered nimbly out of the window and into the flowerbed at her feet. She felt the cold, soft earth seep in between her bare toes. She moved quietly towards the fence and snatched the scrap of paper from it. Her hands shook as she saw the familiar scrawl on the front where her name was written. She slowly unfolded the parchment and gasped.

Rather than a message, her father had decided to scare her in the most effective way possible. On the dirty parchment were six droplets of dried blood. She had six days until he came for her. Six days until he attacked the people of this house. Six days until he finally got revenge.

Eponine sank down. He had found her out sooner than she thought he would be able to. Of course he had amazing resources at his disposal including Montparnasse who could track anyone or anything with ease. She also figured her father had acquired a good amount of money from the barricades. He probably picked the pockets of every dead man from that revolt.

Eponine knew Jean Valjean wanted to leave this place as the French police were looking for any student survivors, and she knew he did not want to be found out as who he really was either. Even Cosette did not know of his past as Eponine had learned from her father. Perhaps she could get him to leave even sooner than planned. It might not make any difference though. Her father probably had his spies watching the house for any sign of irregularity.

What her father had given her was a test to see if she was still loyal to him. He was allowing her to run from the house possibly with stolen jewels and coins in order to avoid the massacre that would ensue when he came. Otherwise he would probably kill her along with everyone else in the house. Eponine had a choice, but she had no idea what to do. She could not let her father take his revenge with a clear conscience.

Eponine stood up and walked to the gate's entrance. "I know you're out there, so you might as well come out," she said to the shadows.

The tall, lanky figure of Montparnasse emerged from them. He was grinning evilly and had an almost manic look in his eyes. He approached the gate but did not get close enough to be seen from the house. Eponine scowled at him.

"Is there anything that would make my father change his mind?" she asked him holding up the piece of paper.

"Your father is set on his revenge," Montparnasse sneered. "Nothing would alter his decision."

"Fine then," Eponine said changing tactics. "Tell him I'll let him in myself only if I can make the first kill."

Montparnasse raised his eyebrows. "And who would that be?"

"The lark. The one who made my life hell."

"I'd never thought I'd see the day you turned fully evil on me." Montparnasse became more daring and approached Eponine at the gate. He reached out through the bars of the gate and stroked her cheek. "It makes you so much more appealing."

Eponine batted her eyelashes and grinned menacingly back at him. "It's only fair that I get my revenge as well."

Montparnasse took his hand away. "I thought you kept claiming to everyone that you had changed."

Eponine reached for his hand and put it back on her cheek. "You said it yourself though. People like me do not change and never will."

Eponine backed away slowly. "Relay my message to my father. I will be seeing you soon."

Montparnasse nodded once and turned back to the shadows which engulfed him easily and hungrily. Eponine shivered and made her way back to the window hoping Montparnasse would be able to convince her father of her sincerity. Otherwise her slowly forming plan would fail miserably. She might be able to seduce Montparnasse into believing her, but her father would not so easily be swayed considering she had betrayed him two nights ago. Her whole life seemed to be made up of facades though, so her father might still fall for it as he had numerous times before. However, there was still the problem of smuggling the Fauchelevents, Marius, and Enjolras out unseen. And her father would brutally kill her when he found out she had fooled him one last time.

I hope you liked it! It's not the most exciting chapter, but there is definitely more to come! I must say this, please please please review! Your thoughts are greatly appreciated, and the more I get, the more quickly I am motivated to get the next chapter up! Even if you just want to yell at me for taking FOREVER to update, go ahead because that adds reviews which makes me happy even if the comments are about how awful of a person I am for abandoning you guys for so long! Well, I love you all for reading this story, and Merry Christmas everyone! Love to you all!