A/N: My first Les Mis fic although I've been in love with that book since elementary xD The model I'm using for all cast were from the movie. I will also use the movie's timeline instead of the play's/book's. Hope you will enjoy this.

Disclaimer: Any familiar characters and settings belonged to Monsieur Hugo and the film directed by Monsieur Tom Hooper.

From Me To You

A young woman inhaled the chilly night air, her whole body shivered with the bitter cold as she watched the moon, noticing the absence of stars in the sky.

"Are you on your own as well?" she asked straight to the pearly orb. All too aware that it would never answer her question. Slowly, she felt in her pocket the little note that Cosette had left for Marius. Torn and burning with utmost jealousy, Eponine had thought of ripping the said paper and let it fly with the wind so that Marius will never see her again. The thought was appealing but then... seeing Marius heartbroken would just make her even more heartbroken, like an empathic link she shared with the Pontmercy that strengthened their bond as best friends. That, and it would make her feel terribly guilty to see him experience the tragedy of unfulfilled love. Eponine wanted to laugh at the cruel irony that the once unfortunate Cosette that she teased a lot as a child now caught the eye and heart of the man she craved to love her. An eye for an eye, she guessed.

Another breezed passed and it made her feel as if it intentionally passed through her body, through her soul. The people of Paris stayed in the shelter of their homes and the few people who braved the cold wore their thickest coats. Seeing them warm made her all the more conscious with her lack of clothing. The earlier rainfall had drenched her from head to foot and her rags of a dress did nothing to keep her comfortable with the cold; the option of returning to her father and the Patron-Minette was simply out of the question ever since she ruined their plans in Rue Plumet; they're one of the most dangerous people in the underground world of Paris, filled with killers and thieves. Though she has no right to point since she had her share of pickpocketing, even if it was a ruse that was under the orders of her father, Thernardier. Her maman couldn't care less about the beatings Eponine receives whenever she came back without any spoils for them or how she would refuse to loot someone, especially when that person was poorer than they.

Strange how things were; nine years ago, they would shower her with love and praise as they owned an inn, and francs and sous filled their pockets but as soon as the economy collapsed (and some messy run ins with Javert), they turned their resentment to their daughter but she would take the abuse as long as it keeps her alive. This made her grateful that Gavroche had escaped this fate and became the little brother of the whole Les Amis de l'ABC in her place.

Speaking if which, there was a stirring that hung around the air within the cafe. Whilst she wasn't part of it originally since she wasn't a student, she quickly fitted in with them. Feuilly would enthusiastically spend hours talking about his beloved Poland, Grantaire would invite almost anyone to a duel to see who could drink the most in one go (he was the undefeated champion), Joly and Courfeyrac would burst into songs whenever things get too depressing and Combeferre would share his philosophies about certain topics that made her head spin. Lesgles would be the only one she would really avoid since his reputation to bring bad luck had reached her ears and any more bad luck to add on her already miserable life is something she's not keen to have. Jean Prouvaire was a romantic at heart and would recite beautiful poetry.

Enjolras-

... What could she say about him?

"He has a one-tracked mind" she thought aloud, kicking a pebble that bounced on a nearby wall.

"Who does?" a foreign voice came behind her asked.

Eponine quickly spun around to stare face to face with the leader of the revolution. A young man with blond shaggy hair that waves to the back of his head and wore a jacket with the patch that signifies where his loyalty stands, and unlike her, he was dry. She could feel heat blooming on her face; she had always been awkward around him since she never had a chance to get to know him more other than the charismatic leader. They had shared a few conversations but other than that, the man has his eye focused on one goal, the freedom of Patria.

The young man continued to hold Eponine's stare with his stormy blue eyes. He walked out of the cafe to get some fresh air (and away from some of the men's drunken slurs) and to clear his head. In actuality, he's now having second thoughts about the barricades as he looked around and saw the dozen faces of men who became his friends and bonded for a common cause only to lead them into bloodshed. They are but mere mortals after all, made of flesh and bone that will decay within the stream of time.

He walked a couple of blocks away and left Combeferre in charge only to see the young woman who always shadowed Marius' steps, staring up the heavens despite her wet state. At first he just wanted to walk by her but he suddenly felt he could use some company. A company of someone who he wouldn't send to their grave; he then heard her speak,

"Are you on your own as well?"

He opened his mouth to answer only to see her directing the question to the moon. He quirked an eyebrow towards her, what a sight to see; a woman asking questions to the moon while standing in the middle of the rain-drenched street. He first saw her, she was pocketing a pastry she swiped from the baker's shop and gave it to Gavroche. When he witnessed this, he wanted to call her out for her crime but as he noticed the way she smiled as Gavroche eat the éclair, he lets it go. But as time passed and with Marius being an active member of the group, he began to see more of Eponine.

She was... a mystery to him. One moment she was silent and can make herself invisible and the next, she would be quick-witted with a sharp tongue that challenged any man into backing out a verbal onslaught, although she immediately crumbled against Combeferre's theories. Whilst she was very much comfortable with Marius, she always kept her guard with everyone else other than the inner circle of Les Amis. A wary eye and a flinching expression made him question about what kind of life she had been leading. From what he had observed, she was in love with Marius who didn't even notice it. But then, he wouldn't really know much about love, it was a distraction from their higher call and from what Marius had exhibited earlier, 'love' might get them killed.

"He has a one-tracked mind"

Her voice pertaining amusement shook him out of his reverie and without thinking, he asked, "Who does?" His voice sounded gruff; maybe from the long 'speech' he delivered to strengthen their resolve amidst the air of uncertainty.

The young gamine spun around with a brave front only have a surprised look on her face. Her brown eyes shimmered with the emotions of awkwardness and maybe... embarrassment?

"M'sieur" she mumbled.

"Eponine," he greeted back. Noticing the way she shivered with her wet clothing, he leaned his head towards the cafe. But she already caught on what he was about to say and wrapped her arms around her chest to save some dignity even though the man never had so much as to look anywhere besides her face.

"I'm fine out here, m'sieur" she answered, but traitorous body shook and she could hear her teeth chattering.

Enjolras would've laughed at her poor attempts of being tough if it wouldn't lead her to sickness. "It would be best that you would sit next to a fire" he cajoled but she firmly stayed rooted on her spot with a forced smile, "I'm comfortable where I am but I am grateful for the invitation. And I'm not really a part of your... organization so I can't just go there whenever I pleased."

'Stalling' he thought.

Eponine would sometimes wander inside Cafe Musain whenever it suited her like a stray, evidently snooping about to see if Marius was there or not but they just let her be. People in her social status were one of the reasons they planned the uprising. So that people without privileges have an equal share to those who are rich. Plus she is Gavroche's sister and Marius' confidante so they knew she could be trusted.

"Are you looking for Pontmercy?" he asked.

A subtle twitch on her face was the answer and frankly, he didn't what else to do. He had thought about just let her be and return to his comrades but seeing her in that state and then leaving her out in the cold just wouldn't do. So, with a new resolve, he grabbed her wrist and began to pull her to the direction of the cafe. But she proved to be quite stubborn for a woman since she tugged and began to tell at him to release her. She even threatened to scream but with the way she spoke in only a harsh whisper, he doubts she would even think about doing it.

With a last forceful tug, she succumbed to his will and fell against him, her strength gone.

Grunting at the fact that she was pressed against him, he found that she was light, too light for a healthy woman in her age, which was around his own, and her all-too-worn dress began to cling around her body that was far too skinny. Under the light of a lamp, he saw her face up close for the first time.

A face that one hadn't expect a gamine to have.

A face that has chocolate waves framing it with shapely eyebrows and brown eyes that can capture a soul but they were blemished with redness. Was she crying? And although her face had some dirt on it, he could faintly see bruise that was forming on her left cheek and a cut on her lower lip. She would have been quite a beauty if she was properly nourished and her skin would have been pale and soft if it wasn't tanned under the sun's rays and several scars littered her arms and legs.

"What happened there?" he asked, eyeing the bruise as if it challenged his love for patria.

Eponine lifted her fingers to touch the spot where he was staring, unintentionally flinching as she felt the numbing effect of the bruise she got from her father. Tugging one corner of her mouth in an attempt to form a smile, she just made a bold faced lie, "Oh, I was just hit by a door, can you believe it?"

If she was telling this to Grantaire, Courfeyrac and Joly, they might have sniggered with amusement and cockled a few teasing but Enjolras was far from amused and she knew that he knows that it's not as she said. Clearing her throat, she pushed him by his chest gently, refusing to meet his gaze, knowing that he would look at her with pity in his eyes. And pity is not what she wanted. Never wanted it, never needed it. Unlike other women, she is self-sufficient and a survivor. And while the pickings are slim in other days, she thanked God above that she wasn't forced by Thernardier to work in the docks.

The docks that were the hauntings of men who had urges in the night and there were whispers that some of those unfortunate prostitutes had gone into the night only to turn up dead and some were bloated and found floating upon the water.

Enjolras just simply stared, not knowing what to say. Though they wanted equality for the poor, he hadn't really seen how they live their daily business apart from the beggars he had seen asking for alms on the alleys. Street urchins like Gavroche had given an impression that they are a rough and tumble bunch that can weather any storm but he didn't look at them long enough to see the bruises, the scars that peppered their body that became their medals of having to live a rough life.

Eponine, fed up with the silence and staring, began to take a step back so to flee from his scrutinizing gaze. She'd always put up a strong persona. Only the strong can survive this world and the meek will fall and crumble under the boots of the strong ones. And God help her if she will be weak in front of anyone, but this man... he's quick to see and she doubts he will fall for any excuse she had always used on Marius. But she held fast by a large hand that curled around her wrist and she looked back with a questioning expression.

A bell tolled in the distance, it seems that Notre Dame had announced the start of the evening mass. Distracted by sound of bells, she found herself being tugged in the cafe once more.

"Monsieur" she said, "I may look like a whelp but I can stand on my own. Now please leave me be so I could rest"

Enjolras paid no heed to her plea as he walked through the streets. The pitter patter that was made by the heels of his boots echoed the empty street and only the streetlamps were the source of light other than the moon. Eponine was never one for silence so she decided to open a conversation,

"Why do you fight Monsieur?"

The question made Enjolras stop for a moment before continuing his stride, "For France, for freedom from the clutches of the corrupt and give everyone the equality they all so deserved."

She could feel her lips curl at the way he said those words. "What pretty words you say monsieur," she started, "As expected from a student of a renowned school-"

"University" he corrected.

"-but I suppose there's more to it?" she finished with an assuming tone.

"It's for the land we live mademoiselle," he grounded, "The land where we were bore and to rest as time comes. I had seen the way those in power would eradicate the system and force people into poverty and slavery. We fight for what is right."

His answer rang with such raw passion that it made her stare at him. Amongst the many orations the Les Amis have given in the square and in front of Lamarque's house, apart from Marius who had captured her heart, she would sometimes single him, Enjolras, out because of his words and how he used his passion and love for France to echo the truths into the common folks' minds. Letting them know they had the power to change their lives and to have the courage to stand up for what they believed in. But as beautiful as those words were, Eponine thought none for France; in fact, she cursed the life she had come from. Abusive parents that consisted a con artist of a father who would beat her without hesitation and a mother who was so negligent that she even forgot she has children. The motherland did nothing to ease her suffering, only to make her see that she was and will always be a scum in the street. How she wanted to laugh, not too long ago her mother said that to describe Cosette and her mother and now, the girl is dressed with lavish gowns and became the epitome of purity and innocence of their time.

'No wonder Marius became besotted with her' she mentally hissed before she gave out a loud sigh. She, who had followed him and guided him through the streets for years. She who had become his confidant in a world he wanted to escape, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to lend for his troubles and doubts. But never the woman he wants to love, the one to cherish and the one to have a promise to build a future together.

How that wounds her!

'Because you're not worth loving' a dark voice inside the very crevice of her mind whispered. 'A muck under the shoes of society, the lowest of the low, offspring of the unwanted sort that needs to be exterminated' those kinds of thoughts plagued her as she entered her adolescence.

Sounds of good cheer and laughter made her look at the diminishing building that was brightened with the candles inside. Various shapes of shadows flitted through the windows and a small head full of golden curls popped out of the door.

"Enjorlas! Grantaire's drunk... the fourth time and Com- 'Ponine!"

The sight of his sister made Gavroche run out into the street and tackled her with a hug before he turned his attention back once more on Enjorlas, "Combeferre is having a row with Lesgles about having a second plan."

"A second plan?" the man echoed.

"In case the barricades were to fail" Gavroche explained in a soft tone in case any unwanted ears were to catch that precious information. He shook his head and entered the cafe with his hand still holding on to Eponine. Several men who huddled by the fireplace silenced when Enjorlas entered with a young woman in tow, with him holding onto her wrist like she was his corde de sycurity.

And the fact that he even has any physical contact with the fairer sex, as Jean Prouvaire had described, was hard to process. On the second floor was Grantaire with a large mug of ale in his hand and was in the middle of re-enacting his latest conquest when Enjorlas stepped in, letting go of Eponine. She wanted to run away but seeing as Marius was not present and Gavroche was now the one following her, she saw it was best to stay put, even for a little while.

"We should prepare for the battle tomorrow!" Enjolras berated, his whole being exude the airs that of a general ordering his troupes. The rest looked at each other and Grantaire slumped into a nearby chair and placed his glass down, completely sobering up. Combeferre walked up to Enjorlas and placed a hand on his shoulder, "We're going to a war Enjolras. Give us a few moments to be at ease before dawn." There was a slight pitch in the philosopher's voice, fear had made itself known and the stench of restlessness still hung in their presence. The leader looked around, his friends, brothers in arms... students. Young men who had a future ahead of them. Families and friends outside the group. The very least he could do was let them ease out the tension.

"Fine, but know that we shall start the revolution and I don't anyone to turn up and start shooting everything that moved because they're still intoxicated."

All eyes sailed to Grantaire who in turn looked at them with a confused look and said "What?" Courfeyrac and Feuilly gave a whoop of delight while Joly nursed his drink and laughed at the others' jokes. Lesgles and Combeferre had grim faces though, and from what Gavroche had reported, they're still having a debate. The two immediately went to Enjorlas to voice out their concerns as Eponine sat next to Madame Belledonna, one of the women who volunteered to sew the flags for them to wave. The plumpy woman squinted at Eponine and suddenly chuckled in amusement. The young Thenardier glanced at the still chortling woman and inquired, "Have I done something to amuse you madam?"

Belladonna finished her chuckle and shook her head at Eponine and jutted her chin at Enjolras whose back was in front of theirs, talking low with the two and shaking his head a couple of times. "Quite a gentleman that young monsieur is," Belladonna said. Eponine said nothing, not knowing if she should reply or not but she did nod. Not many people had exactly offered her a hand of kindness. Only Marius did, that's how her infatuation with him started.

"And such a lovely man. It's a shame he never found any time for lady companionship"

She immediately looked at the woman with a look that made the woman gasped and waved a hand, looking affronted, "Not that kind of lady! I meant the kind that young Marius has found. Wouldn't stop sputtering about a young woman he just met days ago!" Slowly, her heart broke again as the woman recounted the way Marius went in the meeting all starry-eyed and sighing like a lovesick fool that he was. 'Stop!' she mentally yelled at herself, 'Don't you dare cry! Don't let them see you weak!' Her one-sided conversation with herself was interrupted when Enjolras shouted, his tone was sharp-

"A 'fool's hope'?! This is our freedom we're fighting for!"

Combeferre bit his lower lip and Lesgles stood his ground, face grim and his lips set in a straight line. The second in command finally lets out a sigh and spoke up, "Enjolras, Lesgles has a point. The barricades is a Hail Mary pass and we might not survive with just few numbers-"

"The people will help us!"

"The people are frightened!" Lesgles shouted, prompting everyone to now stare, even those who were downstairs now peered from the stairs to see what the trouble was that brewed within their group. "I could see it. Fear in their eyes and hesitations of their actions. We can't guarantee their help with this one!"

The leader growled and ran a hand through his hair, "Then when is our time? When will it be the right time to strike them other than the march for General Lamarque, (God bless his soul)?"

"Everything comes gradually and at its appointed hour. That's what Ovid believed" Combeferre chimed.

Enjolras immediately rounded on Combeffer, making everyone nervous at his aggressive approach. Feuilly was already half-standing to hold Enjolras back only to hear him ask them.

"Then what is it you believe? What do you think will be the outcome of this?"

"We'll all die"

Grantaire's answer shot them like ice running through their veins. Courfeyrac led Gavroche downstairs while Joly looked far more depressed than any had seen him. Legles, Comferre, Bahorel and Prouvaire now refused to look at Enjolras. But the young man knew as well; they were right. With their few number and resources, the royal army would wipe them clean. For the first time, he didn't know what to do. And with that, he walked out of the café once more, not noticing someone following him in the shadows.