Gavaroche didn't react well to seeing his sister unresponsive to him for even when she was sleeping the slightest noise would wake her and she had never been beaten bad enough the she went unconscious. He sat on the side of her bed for ages. To begin with Enjolras hovered at the door watching but eventually grew uncomfortable and left for Pontmercy's company in the lounge/kitchen area - the rest of the Les Amis who had arrived had gone back to the university or work and Combeferre was in his room.
"You love Éponine," Pontmercy muttered, his voice had not risen above one since he found out what had happened to Eponine.
"What?" Enjolras questioned completely taken by surprise by Pontmercy's statement for he hadn't asked.
"Éponine," Pontmercy repeated. "You're going to deny it, I know you are, but you don't see the way you look at her. It's different, Enjolras, and come on, admit you, the feelings who have about Éponine are different than any other woman you've ever come across."
Being told how he felt was the last thing Enjolras had expected when he sat down but he had to admit that Pontmercy had a point. He had always felt strangely draw to Éponine; always felt his eyes straying to her when he wasn't focused on a specific task; if she wasn't at the Café when she usually was, he missed her; if she was quieter than usual, he was concerned; the thought of her lying in the other room hurt and unconscious caused his stomach and throat to tighten horribly; seeing her smiling when she walked into the café made his day but none of that, he told himself, meant he was in love with her. We, however, know that he just didn't want to believe he had fallen for her.
He opened his mouth to deny what Pontmercy said but no words came out.
"Wow," Combeferre said exciting his room, "is the man of words out of them?"
Enjolras whipped - forgive the expression - his head around to glare at his roommate though his heart was only half in it. Joking was what they needed to do right now so they didn't become to weighed down but they also needed to discuss important matters - his so-called feelings for Éponine did not fall into this category.
"No but we have to talk about Gavaroche and his situation - is he still in the bedroom?" Enjolras stopped his sentence, it was awfully quiet from his room.
Combeferre backed up few steps and knocked on the door. There was no answer.
"Gavaroche, everything alright?" he called through the door, he frowned back at the other two when not a sound was made.
"Perhaps he fell asleep," Pontmercy shrugged but got up and walked to the door. "'Roche? Can I come in?"
They waited in silence for a few seconds before Pontmercy pushed down on the handle gently allowing the door to fall slowly open. Éponine of course was lying exactly where Enjolras had put her that morning except now she was under the covers and she didn't look so, for lack of better word, dead. The covers were pulled up and there was a dent were Gavaroche had probably been sitting moments ago but the boy himself was nowhere to be seen.
"Enjolras, you might want to look at this."
Enjolras made his way over with a heavy sigh and glanced around the empty room.
"Merde," he whispered softly moving to the window that had been opened allowing the curtains to flutter softly - the fire escape went right next to the window, it wouldn't have been harder for Gavaroche to swing himself onto it. "Get the Amis looking for him, you two."
Pontmercy and Combeferre left the room and Enjolras went to follow them but his gaze fell on Éponine and he found his feet rooted to the ground. He studied her face for a minute, the most relaxed he'd even seen her and for some reason he felt the overwhelming need to protect her not because she was part of the cause but because she was Éponine. Without really thinking about it, his feet brought him to her side and her perched beside her on his bed. Combeferre and Pontmercy were already gone and he remembered what Joly had told them about unconscious people - that she may be able to hear them - so he began speaking to her.
"Pontmercy thinks I'm in love you with," he said amused simply because that thought was a the forefront of his mind - he wasn't too worried about Gavaroche really but he didn't want him going home or anywhere near his father unless something like what happened to Éponine happened to him. "Is that crazy? You're special, Éponine, but I've never even had a conversation with you, never had the nerve. I don't like the way you make me feel, I'm not meant to care about woman, I'm meant to care about Patria and the revolution and my school work, women, you, never should even enter my mind." (he ran a hand through his hair) "Why are you doing this to me, Éponine? Why couldn't you just be like everyone else?..."
He was so glad that there was also a chance that she couldn't hear what he was saying and as he continued talking to her he began to think that maybe Pontmercy was right, that maybe he was a little in love with her - he was, by the way, and more than just a little. The realisation of this hit him like a tonne of bricks: Antoine Enjolras did not fall in love with girls only country.
"I love you, 'Ponine," he muttered as the end of his ramble, looking at her calm sleeping face, "there, are you happy? I love you."
******* <3 ********
The Les Amis spread out of Paris to search for Gavaroche but as it grew dark that he no luck and had to call of their search - Gavaroche had lived on the streets his whole life, he could take care of himself though they knew Éponine would kill them when she woke to find out that they had lost her kid brother.
Enjolras returned home down heartened - later than the rest of the Les Amis. Combeferre was already asleep, having giving up the search for the day hours ago, but Enjolras couldn't. The images of Éponine laying in a pool of her own blood, of her blood seeping into his shirt, of Gavaroche sitting at her side, of him admitting to being abused, they were all burned into his memory and he was sure if they were even going to leave but for that reason he had to find Gavaroche. He had to make sure the boy was safe, had to find out why he had disappeared.
It was now 2 o'clock, according to Enjolras' watch, and he'd only just walked through the apartment door and headed straight for his room. Éponine hadn't moved, she lay there still, her breathing a lot steadier than it had been but he stopped in the doorway astounded by her beauty. Musichetta must have been over while they were searching for Gavaroche and given Éponine, what Enjolras hated to admit was, a well need wash. Trouble is Enjolras had though Éponine was beautiful anyway - with her big round eyes that were too big for a her face but gave off the impression of her being innocent, her crazy blackish hair and cute dimples when she smiled - but, clean, she was even more so. Her hair, now washed free of dirt and blood, was actually a medium brown and flared out across his scarlet pillow looking soft and shiny. It had slightly curl to it. Hidden beneath the dirt on her face had been little freckles only on her cheeks and her skin glowed, though it was pale, an ivory colour. From the amount of sleep she had over the day, the areas surrounding her eyes weren't as black any more and her eyelids were a light lavender colour.
For a man who prided himself on being unaffected by woman, Enjolras was extremely affected by this one. He stood in the doorway just staring at her, trying to connect the girl he had fallen in love with, look he could admit it now, with this girl. His feet took him toward her without his minds consent but he made no effort to stop them as he got closer and dropped to his knees at her side, pressing a kiss to her hand that rested at her side.
******* <3 ********
It was dark where Éponine's mind was trapped and, though to Enjolras in the real word her face seemed calm, terrifying. Her parents were there and Gavaroche. He was yelling for her, begging her to help him as their father beat him, but she was frozen, held in place by an unknown force. Azelma's voice whispered to her at times, their last conversation repeating itself in her mind. Marius had appeared at one point and he was crying - she had tried to reach for him but as soon as she got within reach he was gone, disappearing into the darkness.
There was one ray of light though, I think we can all guess what it is, where she wouldn't feel scared and a wave of calm would wash over her but the appearance of this man wasn't always good. Enjolras was of course the man. He would appear and everything would be fine, she would be safe and loved, but then her father would appear laughing evilly, his face distorted weirdly as the day changed into night. Montparnasse would be with him and the rest of the Patron-Minette and they would hold Enjolras as her father took his anger out on him instead. She was forced to watch it, unable to move, her feet rooted to the ground. They would eventually fade away leaving only her and Enjolras. Enjolras who lay on the floor, his mouth ajar and a trail of blood leaking from him, his red jacket that he always wore becoming stained with blood that was her fault. She would cry and hug his body close to her as she never had done in reality because Enjolras was never vulnerable or injured in reality.
Her mind was stuck in a nightmare that she couldn't see the end of. It felt like she was never going to wake up and was going to be stuck with these horrific images forever.
*sigh* I love Enjolras but I just can't seem to get a hold of his character well enough to write him, he seems a little OOC which makes me sad but I am trying my best.