Trigger Warning: drug references and domestic violence references.

A/N: Since it's a modern AU, I'm going to change things up a bit (just like making some of them a bit older, that sort of thing) but I promise I'll try my hardest to keep the characters' personalities as accurate as I can. There's nothing more frustrating than a fanfic that changes a character's personality for a relationship.

Also, I'm reading the book but only a few chapters in, so most of my ideas are inspired by the movie, other fanfics, or my own personal headcanons.

Enjoy:)

Picked you out my pocket
And you fell into the road
You asked me if I'd make it better
Asked me if we could grow old together

-Kate Nash, Pickpocket

Éponine leaned up against the brick wall in the alley. She wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering although her face burned hot. Her dirty hair got stuck to the rough bricks. She yanked them out, but a few strands stuck to the wall, a later message for a stranger to see.

She screamed out once, pounding her fists against the wall. What have you done, Éponine? You've ruined everything. Do you think anyone else would ever want you?

There was no going back. Montparnasse wasn't going to take her back, not after what she just said. He had taken her in and paid for anything she needed; couldn't she have been a bit more grateful? And she couldn't go back to her parents. The streets were better than living with them.

Her dark hair was sticking to the sweat on her face. She pushed it back and wiped the tears from under her eyes. Éponine winced; she had momentarily forgotten her eye was swollen. Her skin was itching. No, worse than itching—she wanted to tear it off. She pulled at her hair, which was starting to frizz. She scratched at the marks on her arms. She needed to mainline. Now. But she didn't have the money. No matter, Éponine was resourceful and knew how to get what she needed.

She walked out of the gritty alleyway. A young man was walking up the street towards her. He was tall and thin, and had a mess of brown hair on his head. He was dressed well. Too well. He stood out like a daisy in a field of weeds. No- more like a daisy in a field of mud. Really, Éponine thought, he was just begging for it.

She turned and began walking his direction. Bumping into his shoulder ever-so-slightly, she managed to grab his wallet from his back pocket. Unbelievable, Éponine thought. How trusting could one man be, to leave his wallet in such a reachable place?

"Pardon me, mademoiselle," the man said, turning to smile at her.

"My fault, monsieur," Éponine said. What? No one apologizes here. I haven't apologized in years.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, observing her distressed state.

"Sorry?"

"I don't mean to pry. It just looks like you had a rough go."

"I'm fine," Éponine waved her hand like she was waving the question away. She turned around to keep walking. Who does this guy think he is?

"Have a good day," the man called out.

Éponine stopped in her tracks. She looked at the man's leather wallet she had in her hands. Suddenly it felt heavy. And wrong. Suddenly she had felt regret.

She turned back around. The man was still smiling at her. "Monsieur? I think you dropped your wallet," she said. Éponine, what are you doing? You need that!

"Oh, thank you so much! I lost my car keys this morning, now my wallet. I think I spend half my life losing things I shouldn't."

"And I spend half my life finding things I shouldn't," Éponine grinned.

"A smile! Now we are getting somewhere, mademoiselle!" the man said.

"Call me Éponine."

"Éponine? I'm Marius. Are you busy? I'm off to the community center down the street, do you know it? Would you like to join me?"

"Sure, why not?" Éponine agreed, although she wasn't sure why. For the first time in two years, she forgot about her itching skin.

Six months later

The secretary motioned for Éponine sat down in a rickety chair. She obliged. She tapped her foot lightly, looking around the dingy elementary school office. The chipping paint, the ragged carpet; it wasn't much to discuss. The government had obviously lost any willpower to fix the public schools, particularly one from the inner city. The door swung open, letting in a burst of cold air, and a young man walked in. After having a quick, murmured discussion with the secretary, He sat down next to Éponine, but didn't make eye contact.

He stood out dramatically from his gritty surroundings. His blonde hair was clean and he was dressed in a suit. He had a handsome face and carried himself with a sort of self-importance. He wasn't much older than she. Éponine wiped her hands on her own grimy jeans. "You look too young to have a kid here," Éponine said, tugging at a hole in her sweater.

The man studied her quickly, then faced forward once more. "And you as well," he replied, his voice smooth.

Éponine smiled and pushed her greasy dark hair from her face. "Gavroche 's not my son, but my brother."

The man nodded slowly. "And Charlotte not my daughter, but a family friend."

"Children taking care of children," Éponine said lightly. The man didn't respond; she could only assume he didn't hear her. More like children taking care of themselves, she corrected, though only in her head.

A door at the end of the hall opened violently. A grizzled old man poked his head out. "Monsieur Bossuet? Mademoiselle Thénadier?" The man said. Éponine flinched at the name. She should have changed it long ago.

"Actually, I'm Enjolras, a family friend. Monsieur Bossuet went out of town and is having the worst luck trying to make it back, the poor guy. I'm taking care of Charlotte while he's gone." The man nodded then beckoned them down the dim hallway and into his office.

The inside of the office rather matched the outside, save for a large French flag on the man's wall. Gavroche was sitting in a chair, a rather proud look on his face. The other chair was occupied by a girl about the same age—Charlotte, Éponine assumed—in a dress with a stoic, if not slightly ashamed, expression.

"Monsieur, Mademoiselle, I am Monsieur Gillenormand, the principal of this school. Please, have a seat," he offered. His voice matched his gruff appearance. Enjolras grabbed two chairs at the back of the office and sat them between their two young charges. Éponine murmured her thanks.

"I supposed I should get straight to the point," Gillenormand said. "These two young… students have been riling up their peers."

"What do you mean?" Enjolras asked.

"They… well, they tried to start an uprising in a classroom."

Éponine turned to Gavroche, who was kicking his feet in amusement. She knew he was a troublemaker, but this? She had no desire to control her brother, but still, she wished he would at least be more discreet. Enjolras, on the other hand, smirked briefly before returning to his expressionless face.

"The children will be sent home for the rest of today. Meanwhile, I would like both of you to consider where they might have gotten these atrocious ideas."

Éponine and Enjolras both nodded. "Of course, Monsieur." He motioned for the two of them to leave.

The four of them walked out, Enjolras and Charlotte right in front of Éponine and Gavroche. The man walked with purpose, like he had somewhere to be and there was no sense in bumming around. "Are you angry?" Charlotte said in her small voice.

"Of course not, Charlie. You know I think it's important to stand up for yourself, and others. I just don't think you should be getting anybody else in trouble," he told the girl.

Enjolras stopped suddenly to face Charlotte. Only, Éponine hadn't noticed, and accidently bumped into him. "Ohmygod, I am so sorry!" she apologized.

"It's fine," he said dismissively.

"No, really. And I'm sorry about Gavroche. I try to keep him out of trouble, but it's hard when he actively searches for it," she said. She didn't like the idea of the girl getting in trouble because of her brother.

"That's right," beamed Gavroche.

"Really, don't worry about it," Enjolras said, walking towards his car. "Have a good day." He and the young girl got into the car and drove away.

Éponine stared down at her hands, which were holding the man's wallet. It was dark and plain, the leather worn and soft. She hadn't meant to take it. It was an impulse that occurred when she tripped over him.

"Nice one, 'Ponine!" Gavroche said, seeing the wallet. "I didn't even notice. You're getting better."

"No, Gavroche. We should return it." What would Marius think? "Come on, we should find a payphone to call Marius. He'll know what to do."

They walked down the street a ways till she found a phone booth and dialed Marius's number. It was the only one she had memorized. "Marius? It's Éponine. I found a wallet, and I don't really know what to do with it."

"Can you run it by the police station?" Marius said.

"I could, but I have to go to work," Éponine replied.

"You got a job? That's great, Éponine! Where?"

"Café Musain, do you know it? Maybe you could meet me there?"

"Yes, 'Ponine, I know it. They serve alcohol there," he stated flatly. "I don't think that's a place you should be working."

"Marius, it's hard enough for a nineteen-year-old to find a job nowadays, not to mention one with a record. They're the only place hiring. Besides, alcohol wasn't my problem."

"I know, 'Ponine, but still."

"Can you meet me there or not?" Éponine said, growing frustrated. Marius was just trying to look out for her. She should be glad he cared. But she wanted him to be happy for her, and she didn't like it when he disapproved.

"Yeah, sure, I can meet you there," he said.

"Okay, I start work in an hour. See you then," she said brightly. She bounced on the balls of her feet, eager for a chance to see Marius. It had been days since they talked last. She was used to going everywhere with him.

She clicked the phone back into place. "Come on, Gavroche. We have to go or I'll never make it there on time." She gripped the wallet tight in her hand as she headed towards the café.

A/N: This is my first ever fanfiction! Please review! I could use all the help I could get! I hope you liked it. I know its starts a bit slow, but we got the meet in the first chapter, so that's something, right?

The barricade boys will be joining us in the next chapter! Yay!

The title Après Moi comes from the Regina Spektor song of the same name.