Forever and Always

Chapter 37: Pain

        The only thing Eponine was cognizant of was the pain. At first, it was an acute pain, directly below her right collar bone. Then, the pain spread throughout her entire body like a wildfire. She gritted her teeth and braced herself for the end. Then, she heard it. Marius' voice, screaming out her name. She stared up, her vision swimming. Her eyes fell on Marius. He held out his hand, still calling out her name. Eponine stared into his deep blue eyes. Focusing only on those gorgeous eyes, she took a breath and forced herself to climb. Something seemed to hold her back. Oh, my coat, she remembered. She gave it another tug, and this time, it came loose with a loud rrriiipp. She tried to ignore the screaming pain that not only burned in her chest, but also in the hand she had injured saving Marius' life. Bullets continued to whiz past her. Once again, she began to climb, but the effort it took to move was almost unbearable. After what seemed like years of intense agony, she reached Marius' outstretched hand. He grabbed her and pulled her over the barricade. For the moment, she was safe.

        Marius took her into his arms and pulled her into a tight hug. "What were you thinking?" he asked, holding her close.

        "Ouch, Marius, you're hurting me," Eponine murmured, although the feeling of his arms around her made her heart flutter.

        Marius quickly released her from his grip. "Oh God, it's everywhere," he cried, staring at her bloody shirt.

        "Don't worry, Monsieur, the bullet did not hit anything important," Eponine reassured him. "See, it hit right below the collarbone. Not my heart."

        Marius looked at the injury in concern. "You should get Joly to look at it," he advised her.

        "No, I'm-- ouch!"

        "What is it?" Marius asked in alarm.

        "My hand," Eponine muttered. "It's nothing."

        Marius took her hand, causing Eponine to gasp in pain.

        "My God, Eponine, it's gotten worse!" Marius exclaimed. "I told you to let Joly look at it!"

         Eponine looked down and was surprised to see that the bullet wound from when she had pulled the gun away from Marius had, indeed, gotten worse. It was fiery red and swollen to twice its normal size. It hurt, too, almost as badly as the wound in her chest. She was surprised that she had not noticed how much it hurt until this moment.

        "This looks infected," Marius muttered. He touched her forehead, and his eyes widened in shock. "You're burning up with fever!" he exclaimed. "I don't care how much you protest; I am going to have Joly look at you."

        "No, Marius, please--"

        "Joly, come here!" Marius called.

        "Marius, I am fine," Eponine protested weakly. Marius ignored her.

        "Bring her inside and take care of her wounds," he instructed Joly.

        "Sure," Joly replied, taking Eponine by the arm.

        "No, leave me alone, I--" Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over her, and she stumbled to the ground. Joly caught her and dragged her into the makeshift hospital. He gently laid her onto a table.

        "I told you, I'm fine," Eponine said.

        "Right. Your chest is bleeding, your hand is infected, you're burning with fever, and you're as pale as a ghost, but other than that, you're fine," Joly replied, rolling his eyes at her.

        Eponine sighed. "I'm tough, you know. I can take care of myself."

        "Your gratitude is overwhelming," Joly said sarcastically. "I'm going to need you to take of your coat, and, erm, your shirt as well." His face grew pink.

        "Why?" Eponine inquired.

        "I need to be able to examine the wound in your chest more closely," he explained, still blushing slightly.

        "Fine," Eponine said with a sigh, gingerly removing her coat and shirt. She winced as some of the fabric touched her wound. Joly glanced down at the strips of dirty purple fabric that bound her chest.

        "Can I ask you something?" he said hesitantly.

        "What is it?"

        "Why are you doing this? You disguised yourself as a boy, you risked your life, and for what? Why are you here?"

        Eponine leaned her head onto the table and thought about the question. "I thought I came here for love, but... now I don't think I know what love is anymore."

        Joly did not respond. Finally, after a few moments of awkward silence, he began to examine the wound. "Thankfully, it's a shallow wound," he said. "The bullet did not penetrate any vital organs, but we need to remove the bullet and clean the wound before it gets infected. Then we need to stop the bleeding." He opened up his bag and pulled out a knife and a strip of leather.

        "What are those for?" Eponine inquired, eyeing the knife wearily.

        "The knife is to remove the bullet," Joly explained. "The leather is to stop you from biting your tongue off."

        "Oh..." Eponine said, her throat dry. "That's a comforting thought."

        "Put it in your mouth," Joly commanded. Eponine obeyed, the taste of leather filling her mouth.

        "This is going to hurt a lot," Joly warned. Eponine braced herself, then nodded her head. "Okay, I'm ready," she said, although her words were muffled by the leather. Joly seemed to understand. He held up the knife and dug it into her skin.

        It hurt worse than actually being shot. The sharp knife moved around underneath her skin, carefully extracting the bullet. Eponine bit down hard on the leather. The pain was excruciating. She clenched her fists together and tried not to scream. Finally, the bullet slid out, and the pain lessened slightly. Joly tore a piece of cloth off of the end of his shirt and poured water onto it. Gently, he dabbed the wet cloth against the wound, washing away any dirt and dried blood. Eponine bit the leather again, trying to ignore the stinging sensation that surged through her body every time the cloth came in contact with the wound. Finally, it was finished. Joly lay the bloody cloth onto the table and tore another piece from his shirt.

        "Monsieur, by the time we are done, you will have no shirt left," Eponine remarked, spitting out the strip of leather.

        Joly laughed, but continued working. He pressed the cloth against the wound. "Hold this to the wound and keep pressure on it until the bleeding slows down," he instructed her. Eponine took the cloth and held it to her chest. She could already feel the blood soaking through. Joly helped her put her shirt back on. "All right, now let's take a look at that hand," Joly said. Eponine extended her right arm. Joly's eyes widened at the sight. "This is worse than I thought," he muttered. "Mademoiselle, did you wash this wound at all after you got it?" he inquired.

        Eponine cleared her throat. "Ummm... no. Was I supposed to?"

        Joly sighed in exasperation. "Yes, of course! Does no one care about their personal hygiene anymore?" Suddenly, a loud explosion filled the air. It was much louder than the sound of a gunshot. It almost sounded like a...

        "Canon," Joly muttered, confirming Eponine's fears. He grabbed his gun. "I have to go," he said apologetically. Eponine nodded, then shivered. "Monsieur, is it just me, or is it really cold in here?"

        Joly frowned, looking at her with concern. "It's just you," he told her, draping her trench coat around her shoulders. "Get some rest," he advised her. "I'll be back soon."

        Eponine nodded and pretended to close her eyes. She waited until Joly was out of sight, then slipped off the table and onto the ground. She was not going to sit there and do nothing while Marius and Gavroche were out there risking their lives. She took a few steps forward towards the door. Suddenly, another wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her, and she fell to the ground, shaking.