A/N: I am so sorry for not updating in forever! I do not have any excuses - I just lost track of everything. But I had some free time and I watched the Les Miz movie (Russell Crowe is kind of growing on me. Strange...) and I was inspired so here is my next update!

Disclaimer: I will never own Les Miserables or any of the characters.

Chapter 13

Javert could not summon the courage to look Jean Valjean in the eyes as they made their way to the hospital.

Here was one of the many people in the world who had all the reason to hate him and he was helping him.

He could not fathom it.

It was Valjean who broke the silence after what seemed like an eternity.

"So… you love her?"

Javert nodded quickly, his cheeks flushing.

"I do."

It felt as though he was admitting a weakness.

"Does she love you?"

Javert looked down at Éponine. He carefully swept a strand of dark hair from her forehead.

"She does. I fear she loves me too much. Undeservedly so."

Valjean could not help but smile.

"No one deserves love, Inspector. Yet, we all do."

Javert scoffed at Valjean irritably.

"That does not make sense in the slightest."

Valjean looked back at Éponine with a smile.

"Does it make sense loving her?"

"I guess none of it does."

"Enjolras… Enjolras, move!"

Enjolras was still frozen to his spot, his gun numbly in his hand. He had shot – perhaps killed – one of their own. One of the people he promised to fight for. Someone he knew.

Of course, Enjolras never took too much notice of Éponine. She was simply the girl tagging to all the meetings.

The realisation of that truth tore through his heart. With all his loyalties and admirable ambitions, he never stopped for long enough to get to know the people he was fighting for. Not even the one within his reach.

"I killed her."

Marius shook his friend by the shoulders. He was unaware of the tears running over his own cheeks.

"She's not dead. We don't know that she's dead."

The gun dropped to the ground and Enjolras looked up. Without their leader the soldiers seemed lost.

Suddenly it felt as though the outcome of the day depended on only him. He took time to look at the young innocent faces of the revolutionaries – his friends.

Enjolras turned without a word and walked in the direction of the ABC Café, his hands shaking with guilt.

One by one, his friends turned to follow him wordlessly.

On the other side of the barricade, the soldiers waited for the last figure disappeared. Then, like one man, they turned around too – each man rushing to his family, his friends or his office.

No one could comprehend what had happened. A few of the young soldiers thought that the whole situation reminded of a bedtime story their mothers had told them. At the Café, Joly recollected the same story – which he now shared with the students as they looked at him with fascination.

"And so this Englishman was sentenced to death. On the day of his execution, before they could kill him, the daughter of the chief covered his body with her own. She said that if they wanted to kill him, they'd have to kill her too."

"What happened?"

Gavroche was the only one brave enough to ask the question and Joly ruffled his hair.

"Every man – all the Indians, all the Englishmen – they dropped their weapons. Because even though they were from different worlds, they loved each other. Their love was stronger than any war."

Silence followed his last words. Some of the students look a little embarrassed at their fascination with the story, others were clearly entranced.

"'Ponine is strong. She'll be all right. I know it."

Although Gavroche tried to keep his voice sure, his fear was obvious. Enjolras looked up, his eyes red with tears.

Gavroche bit down on his lower lip as his eyes met those of Enjolras.

"I mean… she's the only good family I have. She's going to be fine."

"I'm so sorry, Gavroche."

Enjolras' voice was thick with guilt and Marius squeezed his shoulder, unable to talk.

Through his tears, Gavroche smiled at Enjolras.

"It wasn't your fault. Besides, she's going to be fine. The inspector… he won't let her die, will he? I think he loves her."

Marius finally found his voice, speaking shakily.

"You know what, Gavroche? I think so too."

A pained groan escaped Éponine's lips every now and again. Every time she made a sound, terror filled Javert's face. Where she sat with Éponine's head on her lap, Cosette could swear that he was keeping the girl alive with sheer will power. It was clear that he truly loved her. Her heart started beating a little faster. She could not help but wonder about Marius. Was he still alive? Was he wounded?

Her hand moved to squeeze Javert's shoulder sympathetically. She understood his fear, his anguish. She would have done the same if it were Marius bleeding on her lap.

"What is her name?"

"Éponine."

She smiled at the softness in his voice when he said the name, then frowned.

She was certain that she had heard that name before. It took a while for the memory to stir.

"My friend Éponine, oh Cosette, you'll love her! She's the one who led me to you. She can do anything, I tell you."

A smile graced her lovely features at the memory. This had to be the same girl.

"If this is the Éponine that I have heard of, she will survive, M'sieur. My… suitor… his best friend is Éponine. He says she can do anything."

Javert looked down at Éponine's pale face as another groan escaped her lips.

He thought of the way his life had been before she entered it. If she had the strength to make him look beyond everything he believed and fall in love, then surviving would not challenge her. She was a fighter. Her friend was right – she could do anything.

"It can be no one else."