CROSSPOSTS |FROM MY AO3|

RAIN WILL MAKE THE FLOWERS GROW | LES MIS

(TW for child abuse by an antagonist here)

Eponine stumbled through the rain, pulling her old jacket around herself. She liked Paris at night, but not when the night was pouring buckets of water onto her face. She'd be soaked.

Oh, well. Better soaked than caught. Eponine subconsciously ran her hands down her skirt one more time, trying to brush off any crumbs that might have lingered. She had learned to cover her tracks, to take no chances in getting found out. As the familiar houses of her street- Rue Hugo- came into view, she steeled her nerves and turned the rusty knob.

The first thing she noticed when she entered was the sharp, dizzying smell of bad alcohol. Not a surprise, but she was hoping against hope that her father would hold off tonight, get stuck at work, anything. But it was Friday, of course. Fridays were the worst days, when her father- however much she hated to call that man her father- would get wasted at some bar with his friends (probably blowing most of the paycheck, too,) and come home to finish off the rest.

Thank goodness, Eponine thought to herself. He's still passed out on the couch. Hopefully, she could creep upstairs without waking him...

Eponine tiptoed up the staircase, avoiding cans and food wrappers- leftovers from her dad's little party, no doubt- and shut the door into her room, directly across from Azelma and Gavroche's. No doubt they remembered Friday Rules. Don't close the door, don't make noise, and don't attract attention.

Eponine had her own set of Friday Rules. As the oldest of the three, she tended to bear the brunt of whatever rage Thenardier had stored up in his drunken self. Look down, she reminded herself, running it on repeat through her head. Don't look him in the eye. Look down. Look down. There's two more years to go.

Eighteen. If she could just hold out until eighteen, she would be free. Maybe she could take Azelma and Gavroche with her, too. She wouldn't be bound to Thenardier anymore. She could move into her own place, or stay with Cosette until she got enough money to rent. Eighteen would be the year her life really started. The year she could start living without being afraid.

Two more years in this prison. She quietly unpacked her bag, leaving her coat sprawled across her bed. Taking a deep breath, she flicked on her desk lamp- the other lights were spotty at best, and she knew better than to think her parents would replace the blown fuses. She absentmindedly flipped through her history book as she reviewed her notes- from the June Rebellion of 1832 or something equally antiquated, she didn't really pay attention to it. The information went in and out, not bothering to take root. It couldn't be blamed, really, because her mind was focused more on getting herself food than learning about hundreds of yIears ago.

The night wore on, and so did the rain. She thought she could hear nine-year-old Gavroche and twelve-year-old Azelma whispering from across the hall. They really should be more careful, but Eponine couldn't expect them to know, especially not Gavroche. They were so young.

She thought back to when she was nine years old- probably the last year before it all fell apart. Back before their dad got two years of prison for breaking into someone's house, when their mom decided that she couldn't be bothered looking after three children, back when she was their little princess, and she didn't know about all the dirty dealings they did behind her back. But by the time Thenardier had gotten out of jail, she was almost thirteen, and she had taken over as the leader in the family. Her dad had developed a drinking problem during his year in parole, and it had gotten out of hand.

"AZELMA!" That sound jolted Eponine down to her soul. She was used to Thenardier's yell being directed towards her, but she made sure that Azelma did nothing to incriminate herself, nor Gavroche. She peeked out the slit of her door to have her fear confirmed- her father, slouching drunkenly, shouting half-nonsense at a cowering Gavroche and shaking Azelma.