A/N: So we come to the end of this tale! Thanks much to everyone who's been reading and following this story. Especial thanks to enjolrastic for the photoset that prompted this story, and to Thinksinwords for tagging me to do it.

And now without further adieu...

Epilogue: Say My Name

"These are the manifests from the detention camps. I hope you are satisfied."

"Only if they are the complete manifests from all the camps, Gisquet."

The former chief of police narrowed his eyes at Enjolras as he slammed the reports down on the rickety desk. "You can check them against other tallies. I've already exhausted all my resources."

"We'll let you know when the commission finds any discrepancies. Thank you for cooperating," Enjolras said coolly even as he surveyed the sheaf of papers that represented twenty years of increasing impunity and ruthlessness. Some of the documents towards the bottom of the stack were already yellowed and starting to crumble at the edges. 'As if they were hidden away a little too well,' he thought, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell clinging to the paper.

Gisquet nodded gruffly as he jammed his battered hat back onto his head. "I highly doubt that you will be able to trace every name on those lists. Some of the camps have closed down years ago. In times like this, a vendetta is a wasted effort."

"Not for those who are still searching," Enjolras retorted before Gisquet strode out of the small corner office. 'Ascertaining their fates will not be enough for some of their families and loved ones. Someone out there will be seeking justice,' he thought as he looked through the documents. He frowned on seeing that the latest list was only a month old; he and his comrades had come far too close to becoming part of an even more recent list.

He then got up to run the documents through a scanner in order to send them to his colleagues in the newly formed Commission on Human Rights. Now and then he stretched, delighting in his increasing ease of movement. It had been eight days since he'd been given a clean bill of health and discharged from Saint-Michel Hospital, and although he had been warned against straining himself, he was determined to make his still healing body keep up with the pace of his mind and the events he'd almost missed. As he finally reached the bottom of the stack he heard the floorboards in the hallway creaking, followed by a muffled giggle and some sneezing just outside the door. "Courfeyrac, don't even think about it!" he called.

A moment later the door creaked open to reveal Courfeyrac and Azelma, both of them looking like two children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. "Are you sure you didn't have some hearing enhancement surgery or something?" Courfeyrac griped jokingly as he wiped his nose with a handkerchief. "Why can't we prank you nowadays?"

"Better luck next time," Enjolras said as he carefully lifted the last paper off the scanner. "You two are off work early," he remarked, glancing at a wall clock which showed the time to be half past four.

"My classes begin again on Monday while his meeting got cancelled," Azelma replied as she pointed to herself and then at Courfeyrac.

"Anyway are you coming along to Corinth tomorrow night?" Courfeyrac asked eagerly. "The roof deck of Corinth is going to be packed, so we have to reserve our seats or we'll be standing all night."

"This is for Jehan and Grantaire's slam poetry battle?" Enjolras clarified.

Azelma and Courfeyrac nodded. "Come on, at least give it a try. New lease on life, new habits," Courfeyrac cajoled.

"With old cases," Enjolras said as he carefully returned the paper to the stack. 'I probably should encode these records as well,' he thought before looking back at his friends. "What time will it be?"

"Eight pm, but the Corinth opens at six," Courfeyrac replied.

Enjolras glanced at the clock, trying to envision how to divide his day if he was going to show up at the event. Inasmuch as he had a lot to deal with in the aftermath of the uprising, he knew that it would be the height of ingratitude to shun the friends who'd been with him in the middle of the firestorm. "Save a seat for me, please," he said.

Azelma held up two fingers and Courfeyrac nodded before he sneezed again. "Okay, try not to turn into a dust bunny before then!" Azelma said as she handed a clean tissue to him. "When was the last time anyone cleaned out this part of the city hall?"

"Heaven knows," Courfeyrac replied drolly before blowing his nose. "See you tomorrow, Enjolras!"

Enjolras nodded to them before going back to his paperwork, which he now took care to sort out by year and then by location. After securing the documents in a drawer and locking up the office for the night, he headed in the general direction of the parking lot. On his way there he caught sight of Feuilly and Bahorel chatting up some friends recently released from the detention camps. Bossuet was also there, helping an old woman with some paperwork and apparently ignoring the fact that he was in the precarious position of being seated on a windowsill. Gavroche was standing in a corner, sipping from a huge bottle of juice while watching over two small children who'd accompanied Bossuet's client. Enjolras waved to them as he walked by, earning him some cheers and enthusiastic greetings even from other passers-by.

As he walked out of the city hall, he noticed a row of people equipped with long handled squeegees and buckets to scrub away all the posters and graffiti that covered the building. In this group of people was a burly man with graying sideburns. Enjolras nodded to this particular gentleman. "Good afternoon Inspector Javert."

Javert shook his head. "I've turned in my badge."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at this bit of news. "For what reasons?"

"I cannot be employed by an agency that would break its own tenets," Javert said bitterly. "Assassination, setting up the suicide of agents who fail in assassination and illicit searches are not the practices of an honest force."

'Among many other things,' Enjolras thought. "You were already aware of similar atrocities before the rally two weeks ago," he pointed out sternly.

"I do not want a hand in such misdeeds," Javert said. His brow was still knitted when he looked at Enjolras more keenly. "Nevertheless I still cannot condone disorder, even if it appears in the guise of change and progress."

The young man smirked at this slight jibe. "Yet you find yourself engaged in this practice of renovation?"

Javert shrugged diffidently before dipping his squeegee in his bucket. "I heard that Dr. Thenardier was found to be innocent of all the charges," he said as he slapped the sopping wet squeegee against the wall. "Thankfully in her case the apple does fall far from the tree."

Enjolras gritted his teeth, realizing now what Javert meant. "Her parents?"

"Swindlers," Javert said in a matter-of-fact tone as he ripped some shredded posters off the concrete. "Most people in her situation do not come so far."

"For lack of opportunity," Enjolras replied.

Javert shook his head. "Sometimes an opportunity is like casting a pearl before swine. It is fortunate that Dr. Thenardier has the moral fibre and good sense to avoid her parents' path." He stepped to the side to begin working on another part of the wall. "Now if you will excuse me, I must return to work."

"Very well then," Enjolras said before continuing his walk to his car. After he eased himself into the driver's seat, he checked the time on his new cell phone; it was almost rush hour but if he took care to avoid the worst chokepoints, he would arrive at his destination in less than half an hour. 'Hopefully I won't be too late then,' he thought as he put his key in the ignition.

When he arrived at the Saint-Michel hospital, he made sure to park a little bit away from the entrance to the outpatient department and make an unobtrusive entrance via a side door. He found himself standing in a labyrinth of corridors leading to various doctors' clinics. 'Which way was it again?' he wondered as he searched for the hospital directory.

"Enjolras, the surgery clinics are on the far corridor," Combeferre's voice said from nearby. Enjolras turned to see his best friend a few paces away, carrying a huge bag of Chinese takeout. A few paces away, Joly and Musichetta were just getting into an elevator, where Mabeuf and Louison had already squeezed their way in. Joly also had a bag of food, but Musichetta was carrying a picnic basket.

"Thanks Combeferre," Enjolras said. "Are you doing overtime tonight?"

"Only till ten in the evening; I promised to help out some of the younger residents with a review," Combeferre said. "Joly and Musichetta are celebrating their anniversary in the call room."

"I see," Enjolras said, unable to imagine a more awkward location for such a celebration. "Is that actually allowed here?"

"Within reason," Combeferre replied. "By the way Jehan and Grantaire told me to make sure you come around to Corinth tomorrow."

"I already told Courfeyrac to count me in on the reservation," Enjolras reassured his best friend. "I'm not about to miss it for the world."

Combeferre smiled widely and clasped his shoulder. "Glad to see you aren't being a stranger."

"Yeah, I need to see you guys in a context that has less likelihood of bloodshed," Enjolras said with a shrug. He paused, wondering how not to make his next query sound so awkward. "Dr. Thenardier isn't doing overtime too, is she?"

Combeferre shook his head. "You might still be able to catch her at the clinic, if not you might have to wait till she comes down from the call room." He clapped Enjolras' back. "Tell her that I wish you two a good evening."

"Yeah, I will," Enjolras said, clasping Combeferre's shoulder in return before going down the hallway that Combeferre pointed out. He had to carefully manoeuvre past patients in wheelchairs and walkers, until he reached an open door marked: 'Trauma Surgery Clinic'. When he peered in, he saw Eponine talking to a petite blonde woman in a sundress. The blonde laughed at something that Eponine said before hugging the doctor and then stepping aside to answer a call on her cell phone.

Suddenly Enjolras turned to see someone also stepping up to the clinic door. "Um...excuse me, but have you seen a girl here, named Cosette?" a tall russet haired doctor asked.

"Maybe she's inside," Enjolras said. "By the way, it's been a long time, Dr. Pontmercy."

Marius started at the mention of his name before blinking at Enjolras. "Enjolras? What are you doing here?" he said.

"Making a visit," Enjolras replied. "So you're into neurology. Congratulations, that's quite complicated," he said approvingly, gesturing to the embroidered designation on Marius' white coat.

"Yeah. I thought of going into medico-legal stuff, just so I could put some of those pre-law credits to use, but that would mean going to law school after medical school," Marius said sheepishly. "You look very well, after what happened two weeks ago. Eponine is a real ace to get you back on your feet so quickly."

Enjolras simply smiled at this before peering back inside just in time to see the blonde in the clinic end her call before bounding outside the clinic doors to hug Marius. 'Ah so that's Cosette,' he realized when he saw Marius blush before kissing the woman's cheek.

Marius cleared his throat as he stepped away from his sweetheart but made sure to take her hand. "Cosette, may I introduce my college friend Auguste Enjolras. Enjolras, meet Cosette," he said with just the barest hint of a shy stammer.

"I've heard of you," Cosette said as she shook Enjolras' hand. "From the news of course, but also from Eponine. She mentioned you."

"You two are friends?" Enjolras asked incredulously.

"Also from college," Cosette said. She squeezed Marius' hand. "Come on, we'd better go if we still want to hitch a ride with my mother. She's swinging by this area in a few minutes."

"Your mother?" Marius spluttered.

"She wants to meet the guy who's been driving me crazy," Cosette said. She nodded to Enjolras. "Nice meeting you. Eponine is waiting inside."

'Did I hear that right?' Enjolras wondered but before he could inquire about this, Cosette and Marius were already quite far off down the hallway. He took a deep breath before knocking once on the door and then stepping in. He saw Eponine carefully folding up her white coat to put away safely in a drawer. She wore her long hair down today, such that the strands framed her tanned face in a most elegant manner. "Are clinic hours over for today, Dr. Thenardier?" he asked as soon as she had shut the drawer.

Eponine looked up quickly and her eyes widened with surprise. "Enjolras, what are you doing here? Is something wrong? "

"No, not at all," Enjolras said. "Quite the opposite in fact."

She paused before she motioned for him to step in. "So you're not here as a patient?"

"You did say that you didn't want to see me again in that particular context," he reminded her.

She nodded even as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "You haven't been my patient for eight days now. But all the same, how are you holding up?"

"Well. Even better than well, I think," Enjolras replied. He could see that she was somewhat fidgeting, as if there was something she was raring to say but perhaps could not voice out too easily in this room. "Were you on your way out?" he asked.

"Yeah, you can see I was just putting things away," she said. She turned off the air conditioner in the room and checked the desk one last time before picking up her bag from the desk. "I'm going to the bus stop. That's near the parking lot; well I assume you did park there?"

"Near the outpatient department, or at least the side door," Enjolras said.

"Smart idea," she said as she showed him out of the clinic and then turned off the lights before locking the door. "I heard that there's a slam poetry night tomorrow. Are you coming?"

He nodded. "Are you?"

"I promised to make time for it," Eponine replied. "Hopefully I don't get called off another easy day."

He smiled sympathetically, even as he knew that he had only this moment to mention what was on his mind. "Eponine, are you doing anything later tonight?"

She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him. "What did you say?"

Enjolras cringed, already inwardly cursing himself for having the words come out wrong. "I only meant to ask if you had plans. I'm sorry if that was very uncalled for."

Eponine shook her head. "Not that. You always call me 'Dr. Thenardier' or 'Doc', but you never actually say my name." She laughed as she met his eyes. "I was wondering if you ever would."

Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped closer to her. "Why?"

She bit her lip before looking at him again, but this time with an expression that was both hopeful and uncertain. "After everything, and I mean everything, it doesn't feel right to refer to each other so formally, or distantly."

"That's true," he admitted. "As you said, I'm not your patient anymore, and to be honest, I'd love to get to know who Eponine Thenardier is when she's not at work."

A slight blush rose to Eponine's cheeks at these words. "So how do you want to start?"

Enjolras paused to try to recall his original plan. "There's a new cafe on the way back downtown. We can have some coffee there, or get a light dinner. Would you like that?"

Eponine smiled widely and nodded as she touched his wrist. "Yes, Enjolras. I'd like that very much."