Even The Darkest Night Will End

Chapter Two: An Unlikely Helper

Enjolras heard Joly's cry as he passed by the hospital wing on his way to the barricade to refill his magazine. He immediately burst into the poorly lit room reeking of disinfectant. He saw his classmate Bahorel writhing in pain on a cot on the left, and Joly leaning over Éponine, frantically glancing between his two patients on the right.

"What is it, is everything alright?", Asked Enjolras, dropping his rifle and rushing to Joly's aid.

Joly popped up and let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank God, Enjolras! Alright, would you mind watching Éponine for me?" Said Joly, bounding over to Bahorel.

"What is it I need to do?!" Inquired Enjolras urgently, as he had minimal experience in the medical field.

"Alright, just press on her wound hard, but not too hard. I'll be back in a minute, just don't go anywhere." Said Joly, as he threaded the stitches through Bahorel's shoulder.

Enjolras nodded and did as he was told. He looked at the woman, recoginzing that not too long ago, she had "died" in Marius' arms, and he had helped carry her away. He admired her sacrifice and the way she laid down her life for someone she cared about. Éponine's selflessness embodied the revolutionary spirit and resembled how the boys of the barricade were risking life and limb for the liberty of the poor. Enjolras wasn't familiar with the girl and never paid her much mind, however. All he previously knew of Éponine Thénardier was a forlorn face in crowds of unfortunate souls heeding his talks of a new world. He pushed strands of her wet, tangled hair out of her face, revealing a thin layer of grime and her bruised neck. Enjolras then recalled an instance in which he saw her at one of the rallies, donning a red, white, and blue pin, listening attentively, with her eyes fixed upon his comrade, Marius. Ah yes, Enjolras now remembered that this Éponine was also very fond of Marius. She clung to him like the shirt on his back and seemed to glow whenever he was near. In fact, the reason that Éponine was in his thoughts in the first place was because he was tending to a wound that she got because of protecting Marius.

Suddenly, without Enjolras realizing, her dark brown eyes fluttered open.

"M-Marius?", Éponine croaked, looking around, and trying to sit up.

This sudden movement made the gauze underneath Enjolras' palm feel heavier, and he could feel the blood approaching his skin. Unsure of what to do, Enjolras used his free hand to gently push Éponine's shoulder down.

"Shh it's alright, Marius is resting right now. Be still, madamoiselle." He said, trying to be as soothing as he could with his gruff voice.

She started to look around and must've caught a glance of the blood leaking out of her side, as she started to wince, clenching her teeth in pain.

Enjolras jumped at the thought of doing something wrong with Éponine's wounds.

"I'm so sorry, am I hurting you?" Said Enjolras who was evidently in more of a panic than Éponine.

She peered up at him with her glassy brown eyes with a look of genuine curiosity.

"Excusez moi?" She asked, bewildered.

Enjolras turned his gaze to hers in confusion. He studied her features pensively, seeing the marks of abuse and the hollowness of malnourishment. Yet, even though Enjolras was no professional when it came to women, he could see that she was clearly beautiful. It was a different kind of beautiful, unlike the clean, polished ladies of high society. He noticed that her beauty had a dark side.

The scars.

The dirt.

The emptiness.

Just like his very own Patria.

But what could possibly be so confusing about such a simple inquiry?

"Am I putting too much pressure on you?" Rephrased Enjolras.

"Monsieur, I've just been shot, I don't think it's you that hurting me." Replied Éponine.

Enjolras nodded with a quiet snicker and looked back at the wound, to see that it had finally ceased bleeding.

"Can you do something for me?" She asked with some difficulty.

"Of course, madamoiselle.", Replied Enjolras, looking up from the injury.

"T-Tell Marius", Éponine said, temporarily relaxing her locked jaw, "that I love him. And always have."

Enjolras looked upon Éponine in pity. Though somehow Éponine's attraction to Marius was obvious, Enjolras had never fully understood the misfortune of her heart's desire. Marius was in love with a Cosette and he had often told of her at the meetings at the Café ABC (rather inconveniently). A burning sensation came from a chasm deep in Enjolras' chest. He was not one to usually be affected by sob stories of unrequited love, but somehow, this did. Nevertheless, Éponine was calm at the moment and to tell her that her true love didn't love her back would most likely result in catastrophe.

"I will. Now rest, it's late.", Said Enjolras reluctantly.

"Call me Éponine, monsieur." She said groggily.

"Very well, I'm Enjolras." He replied.

As she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, she had this smile of content that added a solemnity to the mess of her unkempt face.

This made Enjolras smile himself, for it was a bit uncommon for people to be so calm with a bullet hole in their side.

Joly walked over from a now sleeping and fully stitched up Bahorel and placed his hand on Enjolras' shoulder.

"Good work, my friend. I think it's safe to sleep now. Thank you for your help, Enjolras." Said Joly.

Enjolras chuckled and looked back down at Éponine.

"No thanks necessary, Joly. It's my pleasure to assist you." Replied Enjolras.

As he rose to leave, a frail hand grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!"

He turned to see Éponine holding him, just barely awake.

She let go abruptly and started to blush.

"Thank you for everything. You're in my debt, Enjolras." Said Éponine in a sleepy, but grateful tone.

He gave a slight grin and a sharp nod, and paced away.