A Promise

Chapter Twenty-One

        When I awoke, I felt my head resting against a soft pillow. My head throbbed with pain, and I kept my eyes shut, trying to remember what had happened. Then, the memories came flooding back to me. Montparnasse. Inspector Vauquelin. I felt my body tense at the mere thought of these two terrible men. I closed my eyes tighter, trying to block out the memories of them, but their faces seemed to be burned in my mind. I heard the soft murmur of voices in the room, and I allowed my eyelids to flutter open. I started in surprise. I was lying in bed at Enjolras' house, and the Marble Man himself was kneeling down next to me, his hand in mine. What surprised me, though, was that Enjolras was not the only one in the room. Surrounding my bed were not only Grantaire and Musichetta, but all of Les Amis. And standing next to Courfeyrac were-

        "Gavroche! Gustave! Emile!" My three little brothers hopped onto the bed and wrapped their little arms around me. I gave each one a kiss on the head. "What is everyone doing here?" I asked.

        "Grantaire came to Combeferre's house to find help for you, and I was there helping 'Ferre with battle plans," Enjolras explained. "I of course was very worried, so I went to find Joly while Combeferre was attending to you, so that we could have two medical students looking after you. Somehow, word spread among all of Les Amis, and they all wanted to come here to check on you."

        "We couldn't have the love of Enjy's life get hurt," Jehan said. "Without you, he might go back to being the emotionless Marble Man." Enjolras glared at him.

        I smiled, grateful for my supportive group of friends. Enjolras gently stroked my hair back and kissed my forehead. "I'll kill that Inspector," he growled. "And Montparnasse."

        "No, Enjolras, please don't get yourself into any trouble over me," I told him. Then I turned to Grantaire with my eyes narrowed. "I thought I told you not to let him know what happened," I said.

        Grantaire shrugged. "Due to the fact that you were passed out in my arms, it was a little hard to hide what happened," he said.

        Musichetta rolled her eyes. "He tried to tell Enjolras that you got drunk and passed out, but Enjolras obviously didn't believe him." I laughed and turned to Enjolras.

        "Don't worry about me, cherie," I told him. "I can avoid both Vauquelin and Montparnasse, don't you fret about that."

        "All right," Enjolras said reluctantly, "but if they so much as harm another hair upon your head, they will never live to tell the story."

        I smiled at him weakly, then winced as another blast of pain shot through my aching head.

        "She needs space and rest," Combeferre said.

        "Everyone, let's leave so she can recover in peace," Joly said. Everyone said good-bye to Enjolras and me and left the house. I kissed my brothers good-bye and then laid my head back on the pillow.

        "Are you feeling all right?" Enjolras asked after everyone had gone.

        "My head feels like it's about to explode, but otherwise I'm all right," I grumbled.

        Enjolras took my hand and kissed it gently. "I'm here," he said.

        "That's all I need to know."

        "Why didn't you want me to know what happened to you?" he asked, furrowing his brow in concern.

        "I didn't want you to worry about me. You have the revolution to worry about. I'm not as important."

        "Don't you dare say that," Enjolras said firmly. "You are more important to me than anything."

        I shook my head skeptically. "Who cares about our lonely souls?" I asked. "We strive toward a larger goal. Our little lives don't count at all."

           "I care about our lonely souls!'' Enjolras exclaimed. "This revolution is a fight for the future, and you are my future, Eponine. Without you I have nothing to fight for."

        I automatically touched Enjolras' ring that rested against my heart. "Without you I have nothing to fight for," I repeated. I turned to him and saw the love in his eyes. Someone to fight for. It was a concept that was strange to new to me, but felt wonderful. Enjolras gently pressed his lips against mine. "You're not fighting at the barricades," he told  me between kisses, as if he knew what I was thinking. "There's no way I'm letting you put yourself in that much danger."

        We'll see about that, Monsieur, I thought to myself.