Les Miserables 1. Chapter 1

The room was quiet as Nikolas Grantaire woke slowly. The first things he noticed was someone sleeping on his bare chest and that he wasn't wearing any other clothes. The second was that he was sore. Incredibly sore. Thinking this was one of his one-night stands, whoever she was she must have been absolutely fantastic, since he knew the feeling of his bed at once, he started thinking of ways getting her to leave before the girl realized he didn't know her name. But then he opened his eyes and saw a golden halo of curls and a feminine figure so perfect it seemed to be made of marble. There was only one person who could belong to such a figure. Julia Enjolras, the woman he had loved for three years, the leader of the Les Amis de l'ABC, his passionate Apollo (Yes, he knew that was a male god but the female goddesses didn't fit her at all so Apollo it was). How in the hell did he end up with her in his bed? And her with no clothes either, with her legs wrapped around his. So something must've happened. And then that bitch memory came back to him and last night seemed to unfold before his eyes.

_Dr. Larmarque had very suddenly died; heart attack. Since he was the only one there at the Musain at the time when she got the call, he had driven her to the hospital when Larmarque's wife had called her. He held her when she fought the nurses that Larmarque didn't really mean it when he signed the DNR order and that he needed to come back, please just come back. He kept her tightly to his chest as she seemed to go through the first four stages of grief at once. She started to attack him with whatever she could but only succeeded in going limp a few seconds later as she knew she couldn't bring back the man who had basically become to her a second father. When she pulled away, her face was empty and shattered and he simply led her to the car and strapped her into the back seat. She didn't seem to notice. He went back in for Mrs. Larmarque, as she had ridden in the ambulance, and offered to drive her home when she was finished with the paperwork. She thanked him and he stayed with her as she did everything the hospital required (much of the stuff he thought the hospital didn't need) and he led her to his car. Enjolras hadn't even moved. He drove Mrs. Larmarque home first, and surprising himself, he offered to stay with her if she needed someone. She thanked him but said she needed to be alone right now. He said goodbye, promised Enjolras would stop by sometime tomorrow to help prepare for the funeral and left her. He then moved Enjolras to the front seat and got back in the car. He didn't start the car though._

"_Enjolras?" He tried._

_His voice seemed to startle her. She turned to him, looking so lost and confused. She said nothing, only turned away looking utterly dejected._

"_Enjolras, I promise you this is pain won't last." Combeferre had once said that Enjolras hated useless platitudes. She needed something to hold onto, something to know. A promise._

_Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. He could feel her tears seep into his shirt, and her grip was almost painful. He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. She cried for a few minutes before hastily composing herself and sitting back into the seat. She wiped her eyes furiously._

"_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get your shirt wet." She mumbled._

"_It's all right. It's just water. Let's go home." He told her and finally started the car and drove to his apartment._

_Either she didn't notice that it was the wrong apartment or she didn't care as he led her up the stairs and down the hall. He fished the keys from his pants and brought her inside. The apartment was messy, bottles of beer and wine littered the floor, clothes were strewn about, paints and canvases seemed to decorate an entire wall and take-out food containers were in places he didn't even remember eating._

"_Um, I know it's not a hotel or as neat your place but hopefully you can find a clean shirt of mine to change into for some sleeping clothes." He shrugged._

_She nodded blankly and went to his room. He started brewing a pot of tea, and waited for her to re-emerge. When she did, she was wearing nothing but his old _Guns N' Roses_ t-shirt. It was much too big for her and went down to the middle of her thighs. She looked so small. When she saw he was looking at her, she tried for a smile and tried and failed to hide and yawn._

"_Take the bed. You need the sleep. You've had a long day." He told her._

"_No, R. You've done enough for me today. Driving me to the hospital and being… there. I don't mind your couch. It's really not too bad." She protested._

"_My couch is, and I quote, 'The worst thing I have ever sat on and how people manage to be comfortable is beyond me'." He mimicked her._

_She glared at him._

"_Please, Julia. Take the bed." He ordered._

_She bristled at the use of her "horrid" first name but when a sigh turned into another sigh, she nodded and headed back to the bedroom. Then he texted the others, updating them on what happened to Larmarque and that Enjolras staying with him and that she needed space. He got several replies of 'Tell her we love her' and 'Take care of her' and Combeferre asking if he should come over. Grantaire texted him back saying that he had early hours at the hospital the next morning and he had the day off tomorrow. He could tell Combeferre wasn't happy but he still relented and allowed Grantaire to take care of his greatest friend and 'sister'. He waited a little bit before the tea was ready. He mixed his with a little whiskey and sat down on the couch. It wasn't long before she couldn't keep her cries as silent as she wanted to. He merely drained his cup and went inside his bedroom. She was curled up into a tight ball, crying into her knees. He sat next to her and offered her a cup of tea. She took it and sipped it (she still tested any drink he gave her since he had tried to play a joke on her by giving her hard lemonade) before finding out that it held no alcohol and taking a deeper drink. She rested her head on his shoulder and openly sobbed. He very nearly missed the cup she dropped as she buried herself into him and he set the cup as far away as he could. He held her close as she bawled and started rocking back and forth. He started saying things but even he wasn't sure what he was really saying. It was just words. He doubted she was listening. He held her for what seemed like an eternity. Normally, he loved it whenever she deigned to touch him and though he greatly cherished the feel of her skin on his, he couldn't be happy she was touching him this time. She was broken-hearted and devastated. Combeferre should be here instead of him but right now he obviously wasn't going to move to call Ferre. He would have to be here for her as much as she needed him to be. It wasn't until he felt his mouth stop moving that he realized she was talking._

"_Why did he have to die, I mean yeah sure he was old but he wasn't that old, and he took care of himself, he shouldn't have had this happen to him, why did it have to be him… it's not fair. Did I tell you that he was my first class freshman year and when he saw how interested I was he invited me to his office to discuss politics and he taught me so much? I started showing up at his office hours every time I had a political question or topic for debate and we would spend hours on it. And now we can't do that anymore. It's just not fair!" She babbled._

_He kissed the top of her head every time she took a breath. Finally, her cries reduced to shuddering breaths but still she stayed in his arms. If anything, she pressed closer to him._

"_I'm cold." She whimpered. He wasn't sure whether it was her body temperature or her heart but he still rubbed his hand up and down the arm he could reach._

_In the next moment, he wasn't sure exactly what happened. He looked down to see if there was a blanket he could get her and she looked up for some reason with her lips out and they ended up with lip contact. He pulled back, fumbling over himself to apologize but she just kissed him strongly to shut him up. He kissed back to show his interest but he didn't want to take advantage of her right now. He could feel the tears still sliding down her face. So, though he wanted nothing more to make her scream his name and hold onto the rails of the headboard until there was nothing left of her, he pulled back._

"_We shouldn't do this. Especially if I'm the voice of reason here. I'm not exactly known for my good decisions. You're grieving and I'm way too sober to be thinking straight." He rambled until she grabbed his shirt with one hand and covered his mouth with the other._

"_I know what I'm doing." She whispered, her eyes half-lidded. If anything, it just made her sexier (if that was possible)._

_That was the only permission he needed. He kissed her fiercely and she pulled slightly on his shirt and they just sort of… fell into bed together._

Enjolras was good. Oh he remembered that. Oh fuck did he remember that. She was very good, especially for what he assumed was her first time. She was also exceedingly rough. He never would've guessed someone as composed as Enjolras could be that violent in bed. He could still feel her fingers in his hair, and his scalp could as well. She had dug her fingernails into his back and shoulders until he bled and he had pushed her so far into the mattress he was surprised they didn't break the bed frame. He knew he should be freaking out in the fact that he and Enjolras just had sex, but if anything, it felt right. He guessed it was because he loved her. Still he knew the minute she woke up she was going to scream at him because he took advantage of her and he shouldn't've given in so easily when she was clearly incapable of making such a decision especially because sex is a part of their relationship that was never going to happen. But even still he couldn't stop the smile when she shifted and nuzzled his chest. In sleep, she looked nothing like the god he always compared her to. Here, she looked like an angel. Beautiful, peaceful. The worry lines that came from too much schoolwork and just plain work in general faded from existence and she seemed to be more her age. Her hair turned into an actual halo of golden curls atop her head that glowed in tune with her ethereal skin. Poets from every age would kill to see even just a glimpse of such a woman as she in their lifetime. Sometimes he doubted even Jehan really could put her beauty into words. Since a picture spoke a thousand words, he reached for his phone in his jeans' pocket. He had to stretch a bit and he was pretty sure Enjolras moved but his task was successful and he managed to get a good angle and snapped a picture. And according to the phone, it was only six thirty in the morning. He couldn't remember being up this early before in the past two years. Well, when he didn't pull all-nighters.

"I'd tell you to take a picture since it'll last longer but it seems you already have." Enjolras remarked drily, sitting up with a cheeky smile on her face.

He stilled, going pale. But the smile didn't fade and the anger in her eyes he expected didn't come. Instead, a type of sadness he didn't recognize filled her eyes.

"Not very romantic, I suppose." She grimaced and pulled herself up.

He had been wrong. She wasn't going to be cross with him, she regretted what had happened.

If anything, this was worse.

"Look, I know, you don't need to tell me that I made a mistake. I shouldn't've given in to you so easily after you just lost Larmarque. You weren't in your right mind and I wasn't thinking straight. If you want, we can just forget this whole thing ever happened and you can go back to hating me." He said.

"I don't hate you." She replied simply.

That made him stop and confusion filled him.

"You infuriate me, R. You infuriate me with your drinking, your mockery of what we do, and your debilitating comments to my arguments. But I've never hated you. In fact, I'd like to consider you a close friend." Enjolras shrugged.

At his pause, she continued, "Grantaire, you inspire me. Yes, you do, don't interrupt me." He had tried to protest. "You do not believe in our cause and yet I seem to find you at every meeting and at whatever rallies don't clash with your classes and work schedule. You were there every time I've gotten arrested and if it hadn't been for you threatening the cops to sue them over harassment and battery I wouldn't have gotten out quickly as I did when someone brought that gun to the rally. You say you are hopeless and yet all of your friends are those who try to make a difference in this world. You listen to them, you sympathize, you drink together, and you give them hope. Yes, hope. Your hope combined with your cynicism inspires me to make my arguments stronger, to close the loopholes and to concede defeat when I know I'm beat."

"That's never happened."

"I said don't interrupt me." She snapped. "What I mean to say is I don't hate you R. I could never hate you."

He smiled sadly. "Still doesn't mean I didn't cave too easy to you last night."

"I told you I knew what I was doing. I thought you knew too." Fear, even a little bit, did not suit her.

"No, no, I did." He promised.

"I mean, is it how I pictured us having sex for the first time? No, but-"

"You've pictured us having sex?" He asked.

She laughed lightly, clearly embarrassed, stuttering. "Um, well, yes."

He laughed out loud at that. "Wow. Would you look at that? Sensitive, virgin Enjolras thinking about bedding me."

"Why does everyone think I'm a virgin? I would've thought that you of all people would realize I've had some experience in that area!" She groaned.

"Seriously?" Grantaire was agog. Grantaire was aghast. His precious virgin goddess wasn't a virgin?

"Yes! It happened in high school before I met any of you fuckers!" She shouted.

"Whoa! Since when do you curse?" He gasped. In all the years he'd known her, she'd never used words 'worse' than 'ass', 'hell' or 'damn'.

"I curse a lot before I have my morning coffee." She snickered.

"No, wait I've seen you at when we all spend the night at someone's place. Even then you don't curse." He responded.

"Yeah but even when that happens I'm always the first one to get up. It's me or Combeferre anyways and he's very used to me cursing the coffeemaker at five in the morning. I'm certain it's out to make me as late as possible every day of my life. It always breaks on the days I need it most." She said seriously.

"So that's why you show up with Starbucks most rallies!" He pieced together.

"Yes because even though Starbucks is over-priced and I don't like the child labor laws in the countries they make the coffee, I must say the coffee is pretty… bitching." She smirked.

"Oh those words coming out of a fine lady's mouth is just- oh…" He pretended to swoon, throwing one arm over his face and let his tongue hang out of his mouth.

She laughed. He used the arm over his face to hide his complete adoration for the sound of her laughter. It was light and lilting, much unlike the passionate seriousness that usually decorated her voice. Suddenly, she shivered, and he once again realized she was very much naked next to him in his bed.

"Um, R, if you could hand me my shirt. I think it's somewhere over there. I don't remember where it ended up last night." She blushed, obviously realizing the same thing.

He nodded and tried to reach one of the shirts from the edge of the bed while still keeping his waist underneath the blanket. Or rather the think piece of cotton he called a blanket. Still it was black enough to keep the 'view' hidden as much as possible.

"Oh my God, it's not like I didn't see all of you last night." She groaned and stood up and walked over to the shirt. She shoved it on without properly looking at it. Not only was it backwards and inside out, but it wasn't even hers. "Um, this… isn't my shirt."

"It's mine but you can wear it. Just turn it around. And turn it right-side out." He burst out laughing as she did as he said. She just glared at him as he tried to smirk at her but couldn't because of his sniggering. She smacked his arm, hard.

"Do you have any kind of coffee or coffee maker here?" She demanded, cheeks deeply pink. It made her ever so cute.

"I have a coffee maker but it's usually dead so I just mostly make instant." He said.

She stared at him in horror. "You drink _instant_ coffee?"

"Yeah." He stated.

"No wonder you're so hateful and cynical all the time! And you talk about the dregs of humankind! You're drinking the dregs of coffee kind! No one should be subjected to instant coffee! It's cruel and unusual punishment!" She yelped.

"I don't- I don't know what to say to that." He frowned.

"What's wrong with your coffee maker?" She demanded.

He shrugged. "I got it for three bucks at a garage sale. It worked for a few months and then it stopped being reliable."

"Why wouldn't you just buy an actual coffee maker from the store?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I live off an art students' salary. Which is to say I have about forty bucks to my name right now and I don't get paid until next Friday." He shrugged.

She stared at him, frowning intensely. Grantaire knew Enjolras came from money. Enjolras didn't have to worry about getting a job, her parents were extremely wealthy but still believed as she did and not only sent her a generous monthly allowance but also paid for her entire college tuition. She didn't have to do anything to stay in school except keep her grades up and not get into too much trouble.

"But I really don't mind instant." He said, trying to distract her from her thoughts. She couldn't frown in nothing but one of his old t-shirts and look incredibly sexy at the same time.

"Instant coffee is the scourge of humankind." She muttered and went into the kitchen.

He found what seemed to be a clean pair of boxers, and after a smell test were determined to be clean, and joined her in the kitchen. She seemed to be screwing with the filter biting her lip in concentration. He had to resist the urge to kiss her.

He checked the fridge for milk, he preferred making instant with it, and set about his task. The entire time Enjolras worked on the coffee maker he made a pot of instant coffee. He cleaned two mugs, since he didn't have any clean ones left, and handed one to her. In her intense focus, she didn't realize what he had given her and she took a sip. About two seconds later, she did a spit take worthy of those television shows like AFV or something.

"Treason! Treason of the highest order! How dare you give me such a poisonous thing as instant coffee! And here I was thinking you could be my confidant or even my suitor but I shall never trust a man who gives me instant coffee!" She shouted.

"Do you even know what you're saying?" He snorted with laughter.

"No I do not!" She slammed her hands on the table.

Unfortunately, he had been taking a drink just as she did so and he ended up inhaling some of the instant and he could _feel_ it running down his nose. He choked as she shrieked with laughter.

"Serves you right for giving me that disgusting shit!" She teased through her laughter.

"Don't curse. Freaks me out." He gasped as he tried to clean himself up. She just snorted with laughter.

All of a sudden, she stopped. Her face went from happy and serene to haunted and sad.

"I was wondering when it would hit you. Which is it? Larmarque or the fact that we slept together?" He asked calmly.

"Both I think." She whispered.

Do you need me to go? I can go." He said lightly.

"I don't care what you do." She murmured.

He nodded and started to get dressed, thinking he could run out and get some errands in before he would run out of money. He didn't need much food but he did need to get some Dawn to wash his dishes and some toilet paper. That would be about seven or eight dollars. Six if he went with the bargain brand of toilet paper. He could do that. He was getting paid in next Friday. Maybe he could ask his boss to bump it to Friday and not get paid again until next month. No, then he couldn't afford rent. If he didn't eat lunch this entire week, he could afford dinner throughout this whole fortnight. Maybe even get a new coffee maker. Which he told himself every time his budget came into question but he never did it. He didn't mind owning a broken coffee maker that only worked maybe one day a week. He was addicted to coffee just as much as he was addicted to alcohol but he didn't really mind. Coffee was a godsend sometimes. Maybe if he skipped the dawn til next payday he could get some of those new flavors he'd been eyeing. No, he needed clean dishes to enjoy new flavors. Until next payday then. Maybe if one of his paintings sold. Wait, he'd have to give one of them to the gallery and none of them were at all finished the way he wanted them to be. He could paint after the errands. He could use Enjolras as a model maybe, if she even noticed he was there. He doubted she would. Even if she did, he could use the picture on his phone. It may be a small muse, but it was a great muse nonetheless. Maybe he could even paint now. No, he needed to run the errands or else he'd forget them and too involved in his work. He'd done it too many times. So he needed to find something at least somewhat clean. Thankfully, he did own a strong deodorant so it maybe it could have a couple wears to it. Once he found jeans that didn't seem too dirty and a shirt that could easily pass as paint smell, he started cleaning himself up. He was surprised to see that he still had shaving cream left, he could've sworn Courfeyrac stole his last bit the last time he was here, and started his somewhat daily routine of getting ready for his escapades in the world of humans.

"I changed my mind, I do care whether you stay here or not." Enjolras suddenly appeared in the doorway.

As he wasn't expecting her to move for several hours, he jumped into the air and jerked his hands. He didn't know what was worse, the sting from the cut, or the absolute agony that the shaving cream did to the open wound.

"Fuck!" He screamed, and quickly wiped the area clear and tried to clean it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." She said.

"It's fine." He muttered and turned to her, using his body language to prompt her. Then, of course, he remembered he was talking to fucking Enjolras and she didn't understand body language as well as other people. "You were saying?"

"I do care whether you stay here or not." She repeated then stopped.

"Yes, I've gathered that." He stated, turning back to the mirror.

She finally got to the point . "I want you to stay here."

"Well this is my apartment." He teased. She frowned. "Yes, I can stay here."

"I don't think I want you to talk yet, though." She stated.

"I can do that. I'll just paint." He finished shaving and futzed around for whatever Band-Aids he did have. Once he finally one 'cut-face-while-shaving' size and stuck it to the still bleeding cut. He brushed his teeth, ran a quick comb through his inky black mop he called hair, and sprayed on deodorant. When he turned back, she was still there.

And then she was around his waist. It took him a moment to realize she was hugging him. He hugged her back awkwardly, completely at a loss for what to do. He wasn't Combeferre. He hadn't been her roommate since freshman year and he didn't know everything about her. He truly thought she hated him up until the point where she very obviously had sex with him. Even then he still doubted. After all, he'd had sex with people he hated.

"Thank you. For yesterday." She said quietly.

"It's my pleasure." He tried. Oh if only Combeferre were here. Hell, he would even take Courfeyrac or Jehan right now. They were better with people. Or, ooh, maybe Cosette. Cosette was wonderful when dealing with sad people.

As if sensing his thoughts, she turned to look up at him. "Why haven't I gotten any texts or calls asking where the hell I am and where I spent last night?"

"I texted everyone last night that you needed space. Combeferre would've come but he has the early shift today so he'll probably stop by after work if you're still here." He answered.

"Thanks. With everything that's happened, I don't think I could take everyone swarming us right now." She finally pulled back and headed back into the kitchen. She moved slowly yet gracefully, like mermaid underwater. He followed her quietly as she went back to her chair in the kitchen and she didn't move. He would've been worried if he hadn't seen Enjolras do this whenever she wanted to think long, hard and uninterrupted about something. The Les Amis lovingly dubbed it meditating whenever she did something like this. Deciding to take advantage of the situation, he grabbed an easel from his closet (why he decided to keep the easels in the closet were beyond him) and canvas and paint and such and he planted himself in front of Enjolras, where he could see most of her face but he wasn't full frontal. He spent the next three hours staring at Enjolras's face and seeing her as an avenging angel with pure black wings covered in blood, standing over so many dead bodies, looking up to the sky with so much regret in her eyes, basically pleading with the Heavenly Father to say that this needed to be done. Though the chest area he kept flat to help ease the transition to Michael that he would eventually do, since he doubted Enjolras would want to be the subject of this painting. This was painful, desperate and depressing. Enjolras shifted, even took to pacing for a while but he didn't pay much attention to her. Though he would never admit it, he could get just as absorbed in his work as she could. He had just finished sketching out what he saw in his mind when he noticed Enjolras was very close to him. She was probably trying not to startle him again.

"Yes?" He prompted.

"It's beautiful." She murmured.

"Oh it's not even close to that yet. I haven't even started on the color, just the outline. It'll look better soon. Well, maybe not soon, but sometime." He corrected her.

"No. It's beautiful now." She insisted.

He shrugged.

"I need to talk to you." Oh if that didn't make his blood run cold. She did end up regretting their night together and she never wanted to see him again and the one thing he truly believed in would be gone. He deserved it for taking advantage of her while she was grieving. She pulled her chair next to his and faced him head-on.

"I don't regret what happened last night. Well, I do in the fact that I didn't want it to happen like that, I expected a little more romance and something like that, but I don't regret the fact that it happened. Do you understand?" She asked.

He nodded slowly. "I feel pretty much the same. Though I expected much more alcohol on my part."

She snorted and he could see her shoulders relax. As if his spidey-sense went off, he went to check his phone and found a message from Combeferre saying that his shift had ended and he was going to Grantaire's place to check on/pick up Enjolras and that he was bringing a set of clothes for her to change into. He relayed this message to Enjolras.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to call him. I need to check on Mrs. Larmarque. She said she'd like me to help with the… funeral." The word itself seemed to pain her, as if it made what happened all the more real. In a way, he knew it did.

"Okay. You may want to put on your clothes. You're only wearing one of my old shirts and I don't think Combeferre will approve." He muttered, unable to meet her eyes.

"Oh. I should go- do- that." She stood sharply and he caught a wonderful flash of her perfect ass. He whistled at her. She threw one of his shoes at him. It hit him square in the chest, leaving a nice boot mark on his shirt.

"Apollo! This was my last clean shirt!" He yelled.

"Why don't you have any clean clothes anyway?" She shouted back.

"Because Laundromats are expensive and so is detergent!" He barked.

"Okay I know for a fact that Ferre and I have a machine, Courfeyrac and Marius have a machine and Musichetta, Joly and Bousset definitely have a machine for laundry in our apartments. Why don't you just use one of ours?" She re-emerged buttoning up her white shirt. Her jeans had been found, and the red jacket she never went without was slung over her shoulder.

"I don't ask for things, Apollo." He said simply, his tone very much indicating that was the end of the story.

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe Combeferre will stop at Coffee Bean or something. I need good coffee."

"Oh I'm sorry my coffee isn't up to your royal highnesses standards." He mock-bowed to her.

"I will throw the other shoe at you." She threatened.

"Please don't. My clothes are dirty enough." He said.

"Well, next time you can pop over to my place to do it. I don't mind you stealing our washing machine from time to time." He could tell she was trying to be blasé but she wasn't very successful.

He knew he would never take her up on her offer, though. "I'll think about it."

She pursed her lips but decided not to say anything else after a knock sounded. Enjolras let in Combeferre and he enveloped her in a hug. They stayed that way a long time.

"Well, O Fearless Leader, your ride is here and I need bathroom and kitchen supplies. Also, she needs breakfast. And coffee, since she is too picky for my instant." He stated.

Combeferre frowned. "Ride?"

"You have my car, Ferre. You always take my car when you have early shifts. And I need to get to Do- Mrs. Larmarque's house. I said I would help her with the funeral." Enjolras tried for a smile but couldn't do it.

It broke his heart to see his precious leader like this. Apollo was marble, untouchable and unbreakable. Strong, pure and proud. It was moments like these that reminded him she was human. He hated those moments.

"All right. Thanks for letting her stay last night, Grantaire." Combeferre smiled gently.

Grantaire nodded and headed out with them until they parted ways at his car. Enjolras gave him a small hug, before saying goodbye quietly and heading to her own car. He got behind the wheel of his tiny little Honda Element and smacked his head onto the steering wheel, calling himself a thousand named under the sun.

"She's never going to want to talk to you again! God, so much for actually having friends." Of course, they'll take her side of the argument. He was pretty sure _he_ was on her side.

His phone buzzed with a text. He steeled himself for Combeferre's 'You're never allowed to talk to her again' and instead found a text from Enjolras.

**Enjolras**: You didn't start your car.

Well, it wasn't much but he'll take it. He'd give anything to stay by her side.

**Grantaire**: I was just thinking. Getting my list all put together.

She responded quickly.

**Enjolras**: What are we?

**Grantaire**: Human beings. Wait a minute, you never said what happened to your virginity.

**Enjolras**: This is what you're asking about? Seriously?

**Grantaire**: Well, yeah. Even Combeferre doesn't believe you when you've said you've had sex.

**Enjolras**: That's his fault.

**Grantaire**: Yeah maybe doing this over text isn't such a great idea. Plus, I really do need to go to the store. I'll text you later.

He started his car and headed to the grocery store. Hopefully, Enjolras wouldn't mention it to Combeferre until they figured out what the hell they were supposed to do next and maybe he wouldn't lose all of his friends. It took him all of ten minutes to drive and find a parking space, so at least the gods of traffic didn't hate his guts today. He grabbed a basket and was checking out brands of dish soap when his phone rang. It was Combeferre.

Thinking it very strange, Grantaire answered, "He-"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU SLEPT WITH HER?!" Combeferre's voice screamed at him. He was so loud that the few other people in the aisle stared at him.

"Where are you?" Grantaire demanded.

"I'm outside Dr. Larmarque's house. Enjolras is inside." Combeferre growled.

"Did she tell you that she knew what she was doing? Because that's what she told me." Grantaire tried.

"Yes, she did. But, come on, Grantaire! You should've known better! I mean, I know you love her and shit but seriously?" Combeferre ranted.

"What is it with everyone cursing this morning?" Grantaire remarked.

"Oh you very much deserve it!" Combeferre snapped.

"I still can't believe she told you. It's been like twenty minutes!" Grantaire said.

"She tells me everything, Grantaire. It was the first thing out of her mouth once we were alone." Combeferre retorted.

Grantaire wasn't sure what to say to that. So much for keeping some of his friends. Combeferre was incredibly persuasive and no one on his bad side stayed close to the Amis for long. He just picked the best bargain dish soap, even though he didn't know the brand, and moved onto the next aisle.

"Grantaire, I don't think she fully understands what she's done with you." Combeferre grumbled after Grantaire didn't answer.

"I don't see why you're freaking out. I've had sex with some of our friends before. I mean, I somehow ended up in bed with Courfeyrac on Halloween wearing nothing but Harry Potter glasses and a broom somehow between us. It didn't change anything." Grantaire defended.

"Yes, but this isn't Courfeyrac. I wouldn't be worried if it was anyone else. It's Enjolras." Combeferre reminded him.

"I know its Enjolras. I'm the one that had sex with her. Does Enjolras even know that you're calling me?" Grantaire asked as he checked the prices on toilet paper.

"Yes, she does, though I don't think she knows I'm yelling at you... Have you talked to her at all?" Combeferre asked after a long breath.

"I think she should deal with Larmarque before she deals with me. The funeral won't plan itself." Grantaire said, choosing the cheapest for the best amount and putting it into his basket and heading to the check-out.

"I know it won't but this will bug her until she unravels the mystery of it, especially with her feelings." Combeferre sighed.

"What feelings?" Grantaire found the quickest line and got in it.

"Grantaire, when have you seen her show any attraction to anyone?" Combeferre replied quickly.

"Well, according to her, she did have someone in high school. And I have to give it to her. If it was her first time, she is more skilled in that area than any virgin I've ever met." He commented drily.

A small gasp from behind revealed an elderly lady looking at him, scandalized. He simply turned back to see that it was his turn in line.

"Give me a minute, Ferre, I gotta pay for groceries." He mumbled and fished for the only ten in his wallet. Thankfully, he shopped as smart as any drowning in debt college student on a budget and the total only came out to about seven dollars. Granted, if he used up his two rolls in a week, he was screwed. Maybe he could ask one of his neighbors. Stuffing the change in his wallet, he grabbed his stuff and headed to the car. "You still there?"

"You seem awfully calm about this Grantaire." Combeferre noticed.

"It was no good to have the both of us freak out. She needs someone stable. I can freak out later. In fact, it's already in my schedule. I have it written in for three thirty to five." Grantaire threw his stuff into the passenger seat.

"All right, all right. I get it." Combeferre sighed.

"Look, I'm about to drive so I need to let you go. Keep me updated on Enjolras will you?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah, all right. I should be heading inside too. I'll talk to you later. And we _will_ be talking later. Goodbye, Grantaire." Combeferre hung up.

Grantaire sighed. He could feel it in his bones. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

**Hey guys, so I know, I know I need to start updating Replaced Guitar Strings but with school and looking for a job and starting treatment for my depression I just haven't had the time to write something I don't gut the minute I see how it could work out. However, for some unknown reason, when I was rereading _Talk Revolution to Me, Baby_ by truethingsproved (Oh my god, I freaking LOVE that story, it's amazing you should all read it) I started this and couldn't stop. ****truethingsproved thankfully approved of me posting this after using a few elements of the story for inspiration.**

**Leave a review if you can. It let's me know if you all want me to continue the story if I should just end it here. Goodbye, everyone and see you on the other side of the internet.**


	2. Chapter 2

He got a call from work as soon as he got home. He worked at a tiny but popular sandwich shop just on the outskirts of town for a polite but terrifying woman named Emma. She was pretty strict but cared very much about her employees. She had four kids, two of each, (though she often referred to having more through the childish acts of her employees) and knew her way around a sandwich knife. When he was new and naïve to Emma's sense of humor, she used to tease him about how many ways there is to kill a man with a butter knife. It wasn't until Mark, one of the other severs, had taken pity on him and said that Emma was only joking and half the ways she came up with came out of her ass. Though he now could laugh at Emma's jokes, he was still terrified of the woman. And, of course, whenever he told her, she just grinned and thanked him.

"Yeah, Em, what is it?" He said.

"R, please say you can come in today! Etienne is on vacation until tomorrow and Mark just nearly sliced his thumb off cutting roast beef! Please say you can come in today! I'll pay you! I'll pay you whatever you want!" Emma begged.

Grantaire just laughed. "I can come in today. Just give me a few minutes to get into my uniform, Em, you don't have to worry."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh I so owe you for this!" Emma said, sounding relieved.

"You know what? Just let me have first pick on the hours Mark'll have to give up for the next couple weeks and I'll call it even." He tried.

"What you want is yours." Emma hung up.

So he dropped off his stuff, changed, got back in his car and went to work. Emma seemed so grateful that she didn't tease him once. Since her other severs were out, he had to work a double shift but he didn't mind. Emma promised to add these hours onto his next paycheck and that was worth the exhaustion of working a double shift on his only day off. Then of course, about three hours later, Emma got a call from Mark, asking to be picked up from the hospital because his car was still at the shop. Because this was Grantaire, of course it was just starting to be the lovely fucking Saturday dinner rush. But he promised Emma he could handle it and made her go to the hospital. It was hectic and loud but he made a sandwich for every single customer asking for one. It seemed like an eternity passed before Emma got back from dropping Mark off at his house. But then somehow he and Emma made it until closing time and he was able to start choosing what he wanted for the next three weeks while Mark had his stitches in.

"Ah shit. I don't know when Larmarque's funeral is." He cursed as he starting picking.

"Larmarque?" Emma asked.

"One of the professors at school. He was Enjolras's favorite. She's helping to plan the funeral now, actually. Or rather earlier today." He replied.

"That's terrible." Emma hugged him.

"Oh I barely knew him. I'm an art major not political science or law. I just know what Enjolras says about him." He shrugged.

"Yeah but isn't she the one you're always talking about? The gorgeous one?" She inquired.

"Yeah that's her. She was basically his protégé." He answered.

"Poor girl. Here, I'll tell you what. When you find out when this funeral is, call me and tell me. I'll give you the day off so you can be there for your girlfriend." Emma said.

"Thank you Emma." He responded.

"What? No mopey little 'she's not my girlfriend. _Yet'_?" Emma teased.

"I don't know anymore." He sighed.

"What do you mean? How do you not know if you're together with someone?" Emma asked.

"Well, we may have sort of had sex last night and we haven't really talked about it since." He tried.

"What? Grantaire, why haven't you talked about it?" Emma interrogated.

"She's been dealing with the funeral for Larmarque and I've obviously been at work. You know your rule of turning off your phone when working. No we haven't had time to talk about it." He said.

"Well, call her! The store has officially closed so turn on your phone and call her!" Emma shoved him.

"All right, all right, already! Damn woman!" Grantaire went to his locker and got his phone out. He turned it on and saw fifteen messages and eleven missed calls, all from Enjolras.

**Enjolras**: Hey so we really need to talk.

**Enjolras**: About last night.

**Enjolras**: Or maybe not apparently.

**Enjolras**: R? Are you there?

**Enjolras**: Hello?

_One missed call._

_Several minutes later_

**Enjolras**: Hey could I call you? I really need to talk.

_One missed call_

**Enjolras**: Why aren't you answering?

**Enjolras**: Please, this is really important and Combeferre can't help. I don't know who else to call.

_One missed call._

_One missed call._

**Enjolras**: Please let me call you. The others won't understand.

_One missed call._

**Enjolras**: What is with you? Why are you ignoring me?

_One missed call._

**Enjolras**: Look, my parents don't want me to go to Dr. Larmarque's funeral. They said it will interfere with my studies. They told me that if I go that they'll stop paying for me to go to school.

**Enjolras**: Why aren't you answering?

_One missed call._

_One missed call._

**Enjolras**: (1/2) Was I just one of your one-night stands? Is that what you think of me now? That I'm just some girl whose name you can't remember? Don't think that I don't listen to you when you "brag" about your conquests to Courfeyrac! Am I just another one of those girls who put a 'notch in your belt'? Why did I think that last night meant something to you? This meant

**Enjolras**: (2/2) a lot to me. I mean, did we both make bad judgment calls yes, but I didn't think that you'd just cut me off. Why aren't you answering me?

_One missed call._

_One missed call._

_One missed call._

**Enjolras**: Fine. Grantaire fine. Ignore me. You were right. I do hate you.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"I fucked up." He groaned.

"What do you mean you fucked up? C'mon. It can't be that bad." He handed her the phone. "Oh yeah. You fucked up."

"I didn't think to tell her I got called into work. It slipped my mind." He shrugged.

"Call her now!" She shouted.

"She should be asleep by now! It's past ten thirty!" He yelled back.

"Call her anyway! Whether you get a voicemail or wake her, apologize! That's what will fix this! Apologize! Unless she's right and she was just a one-night stand to you, fucking apologize!" Emma barked and stalked off, muttering about 'idiotic men' and 'horrible phones'.

He just sighed, locked the door, tossed the keys to Emma since she was opening tomorrow, and got into his Element. Deciding that Emma, who had a family and understood relationships between both sexes, was right and that he should always agree with her (and the fact that she'd kick his ass tomorrow if he didn't also weighed heavily on his mind), he called Enjolras. As he expected, she didn't pick up.

"Hey, Enjolras, it's me. Grantaire. Um, I haven't been ignoring you, at least not purposely. You see I got called into work for a double-shift and I really needed the hours and we can't have our phones on when we're at work, its Emma's rule, and I would've let you call me if I had my phone on me. Look, I'm really sorry. I wish I hadn't missed you. You were right we do need to talk about last night. Call me back when you get this. I'm really sorry, Enjolras. And I promise you're not just one of my one-night stands. It meant a lot to me too."

He spent the next two hours obsessively checking his phone for her response, or at least something to know she had received his message. No messages. No calls. He eventually fell asleep somewhere around three with his alarm set for ten. Still nothing.

The next morning immediately after his horribly loud and will-actually-wake-you-up alarm went off, he checked it again. One text message. Received seven twenty-three am.

**Enjolras**: When do you get off work today?

He replied faster than humanly possible.

**Grantaire**: Six thirty.

Luckily, she replied pretty quickly. Otherwise, he was afraid he might end up checking his phone so often that the damn thing would break from his giant thumbs.

**Enjolras**: Combeferre says I should give you a chance. Says it's an honest mistake. Prove him right. I'll be waiting at my apartment.

**Grantaire**: When do you want to meet?

**Enjolras**: Seven. Don't be late.

She had made it very clear that the conversation was over. So he just got ready for the day, threw a change of clothes into the car and headed out to work. Emma was waiting for him in the locker room.

"Did you call her?" Emma asked.

"Why, Emma, it's almost as if you care." He smirked.

"Answer me, you little shit! I won't have you be all distracted and mopey today! Did you call her?" She demanded.

"Yes, I did. We're meeting at seven at her place tonight. So I'll need to get off exactly at six thirty to leave with enough time counted for traffic." He answered and headed into work.

Though this was exactly what Emma wanted to avoid, Grantaire ended up being distracted the entire time he was at work. He knew he had royally fucked up, though he wasn't sure if it was entirely his fault and circumstances were just what they were, but even if he had to beg forgiveness of Enjolras for everything wrong in the world as if it was his fault, he'd do it. He loved her, he knew he did, and he loved their friends. Cosette was a wonderful bundle of joy who somehow wormed her way into everyone's hearts, even an old drunken cynic like his. Courfeyrac was a wonderful ladies man, who apparently took offense at the word 'wingman' because he said it meant that there were girls who weren't attractive and he always said that all people were beautiful and should be treated with respect. It wasn't just a pick-up line to him. That alone made Courfeyrac lovable and that was just the tip of the Courfeyrac iceberg. Feuilly was an amazing hard worker who still had time for everyone and their problems. Bahorel was the best sparring partner and he'd earned some of the black eyes he'd been given by the barrel of a man but that just made Bahorel even better. Bahorel was not afraid to punch him out if he got too out of hand, either drinking or… no just drinking. Joly and Bousset and Musichetta were an adorable couple (triple?) who just seemed to function as a collective unit and could make someone smile in a matter of seconds. Marius was a lost puppy who could only be described as 'Pontmercy'. Jehan knew enough poetry to write his own book and still somehow found more within himself. Eponine was a terrifying girl who could kill you just as soon as look at you but her laugh made it seem like she didn't care about her hard life and ragged clothes. Combeferre was the glue of the group, making sure everyone functioned well together, made sure his and Enjolras's arguing never got too out of hand, and was fiercely protective of the entire framily that they had amassed. He really loved them, knowing true friends for once in his life. He didn't want to lose them. And he certainly didn't want to lose Enjolras. Enjolras, the beautiful bombshell who could dissolve any sexist/racist/homophobic/conservative argument in less than a minute with a voice of steel and an expression of pure resolve. Enjolras, who so passionately rallied for the people she saw suffering in the world, in her own hometown and here at college. Enjolras, who was so kind and gentle to her friends (any friends not named Grantaire that is) and even allowed them to do things that no one could understand. One day she had come into the Musain with braids wrapping around her head so intricate that it must have taken hours for it to be done. When asked, she had simply said that Jehan had asked to braid her hair while she studied. Grantaire doubted she even noticed the feel of Jehan's hands on her head. It was moments like that, that really solidified his love for her. She was a beautiful person, in body and soul. He spent the entire day trying to figure out the best way to apologize and show her how he felt about her. He didn't come up with anything at all. But, he had to cut himself some slack. Enjolras was an enigma, wrapped in a riddle, covered in mystery. There were times even Combeferre didn't know how to talk to her.

At six o'clock, Emma suddenly shoved him into the locker room.

"You're of no use to me distracted, R. Go make up with her." Emma said.

Grantaire smiled and hugged her. He had changed and made sure he didn't smell too bad, when an idea suddenly came to him. Enjolras, above all things, liked paperwork. Well not like filling stuff out and shit, but she loved things in writing. They all joked that's why she became a lawyer, to see everything in the world in print.

"Hey Emma? Can you write out that you called me into work, with exact time and date would be nice, and say that it's sort of your fault that I missed her calls and texts?" He started out strong and then barely finished the sentence. It wasn't Emma's fault that he missed Enjolras.

But thankfully, Emma just nodded and scribbled something onto the back of an old receipt. He thanked her profusely, she shoved him again and he headed out. Thankfully Emma had released him when she did, because for some reason the traffic gods were now angry and he barely made it to Enjolras and Combeferre's flat by six fifty-five. He knocked and waited. Enjolras's 'Come in' wasn't loud but it was audible. So he opened the door, the flat's door was almost never locked, and he found Enjolras sitting at the kitchen table. Her apartment was much more lavish than his own, it had two rooms, a much bigger kitchen (if he was really being honest he really only had a kitchenette he pretended was an actual kitchen), two bathrooms, and a large living room. The kitchen table, which fit nicely in the common room, unlike his own that somehow always seemed cramped, wore a tablecloth, and had two dinners set on it. Chicken quesadillas. She gestured to the seat across from her, hopefully meaning the food was for him because it smelled delicious and he was starving. He sat down awkwardly, as she didn't seem to be looking at him and yet still found a way to see into his soul. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair was in a messy ponytail. Her clothes were wrinkled and didn't seem to fit her like they should've. Her skin seemed sallow and gaunt, like she'd lost a lot of weight at once. Knowing her, she probably had.

"You look terrible." He murmured, trying to sound comforting.

"So do you." She snapped.

"Where's Combeferre?" He tried, hoping the roommate could be brought in to at least calm her down.

"Out. I didn't ask where." She stated.

Well, so much for that idea.

He nodded and waited for her to start eating. Finally, she figured that out and took a bite. The quesadilla was delicious.

"It's good. I love these things." He smiled, after he swallowed of course, trying to draw her out a bit.

"That's why Combeferre made them." She said.

That explained it. Every single one of the Amis knew to never trust Enjolras in the kitchen after she caught a bowl of cereal on fire. He hadn't been there for that but he believed it whole-heartedly.

"Tell him I said they were great." He said, trying and failing not to be as awkward as possible.

She didn't answer him.

"Um, here. I know you love things in writing and I even got my boss to sign it and shit, and I was hoping that you could at least believe her." He handed her the meticulously folded receipt from his pocket. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "This plan sounded better in my head."

Still, she took the paper and read it over.

"I don't know what to think about you anymore." She whispered.

"Neither do I. That's what happens when two people have sex when they're not in a relationship or an agreement of some kind." Agreement sounded better than drunken one-night stand.

She didn't answer him. Perhaps she wasn't ready to talk about this just yet.

"You said in your texts that your parents don't want you to go to the funeral. Did they tell you why?" He tried.

"They said that it would interfere with my classes. Which is ridiculous as I scheduled it to be on a Friday because I don't have class on Friday. I mean, not purposefully, but it helped. Besides, many people will be attending this funeral and I'm sure that my professors wouldn't mind putting the lectures online because their students are attending a funeral. A lot of the teachers will probably attend to so I doubt that the classes would be canceled too. And plus, missing one class won't make my grade drop from an A to a D. That's what they were acting like. My father absolutely refused to listen to me and then my mother had the audacity to say that he was simply looking out for me." She ranted, showing emotion for the first time since he arrived.

"Well, did you tell them that you're twenty-three now and they no longer control you as they once did?" He asked.

"Not in those words, yes, and they said that because they were paying for school and rent for both me and Combeferre that they still had some say in my life." She shuddered, making it obvious that there was more.

"And then you said?" He pressed.

"And then I told them that whether they liked it or not, I was going. And they said that if I went to the funeral that they would cut me off!" With those words, the damn burst. She started sobbing and he went to her side. He hesitated touching her since she never seemed to want to be touched but just having him being there seemed to be enough. "They said that they would stop paying for school and rent and food and everything! I can't afford to live here without their money! Neither can Combeferre! We'd have to move immediately and I don't know of any apartments that would take in one college kid with no job and another with an unpaid internship at a hospital! There's no way we could pay rent! There's no way we can afford food! The only reason we get by is because my parents send down a few hundred dollars down a month! That's what pays for everything! I'm scared, R. I don't know what to do without getting money from somewhere. I don't know how to budget! Combeferre does that. That's why I wanted to talk to you!"

"Because I know how to budget?" He asked, suddenly confused.

"No. Because you know how to survive after fighting with your parents like this. You said your parents disowned you and you made it! You've gotten to college and you're paying for it somehow." She replied, finally turning to look at him.

For the first time in his life, she truly looked terrified. He'd seen her scared before but never like this. This wasn't like scary movie scared, or even looking too long over the edge of a tall building. This was the kind of fear that couldn't be described in words. The absolute and overwhelming fear of losing everything. The fear that everything you worked so hard to build is crashing down around you and there's nothing you can do to stop it. This kind of fear snuck up on you and wrapped you up in bleakness and hopelessness so tightly you couldn't breathe anymore. This was the kind of fear that drove people to pills and very, very tall buildings.

"Does Combeferre know?" He hoped the medical student did know and had assuaged some of the law student's fears.

She put her head in her hands and shook her head. "I couldn't tell him."

"Okay. Not that I'm saying this is the thing to do, what if you don't go?" He tried.

"I couldn't do that. Mrs. Larmarque wants me to speak about how great of a teacher he was." She cried.

For a moment, she just blubbered into her hands. He wasn't sure if she was talking or just simply whining. Deciding she wasn't going to change positions anytime soon, he stood up and walked to the coffee table. Once he returned, he held up the box of tissues he had retrieved. At the noise, and slight pressure to her hands, she looked up and accepted the tissues as he handed them to her.

Once she cleaned herself up a bit, he said, "What if, and I'm not saying that this is what you should do, but what would happen if you told Mrs. Larmarque that you can't speak?"

"I already promised her. I even started writing it in my head when my parents called." She replied.

"Okay so that's completely out of the park. What if you say you didn't go but you did go?"

She shook her head dejectedly. "They'll find out. I'm a terrible liar and they're not afraid to spy on me. They've done it before."

"Wait, so they're not afraid to spy on you and yet they agree with you when you say that the government needs to stay out of our private emails and phone calls and stuff?" He asked.

"Actually, no. The only reason they allow me to keep up with the Amis and what we do is because you're my friends. If this was just a political organization without me having any "strong ties" to the group, they'd tell me to leave. They've told me so. But because you guys are kind of the only friends I have they go along with what I do. They don't want me to be lonely." She admitted.

He wasn't sure how to reply to that. He always imagined loving parents encouraging her to change the world from the minute she was born from the way she talked about them. He'd never imagine parents who kept their daughter on an extremely short leash.

"Is it wrong to still love them even though they've said this?" She whispered so low he almost missed it. Thankfully, the tears had stopped but that didn't do much to help her complexion or her expression.

"I would be concerned if you didn't love your parents anymore after this. They're going about it the wrong way but I do think, in their heads, they think they are trying to do what's best for you." He assured her.

She snorted. "That'd be a first."

He really wished Combeferre was here. Combeferre knew her better than any other Ami. He would understand her relationship with her parents.

"My parents come from old money, old politics. Have you ever noticed that when the choice comes for a politician to choose their child or their politics, they always choose the politics? It's an opportunity, actually. You see, what better way to prove that you're for this one thing that when your own children decide to go against you that you choose your _ideals_ and you cast them out. Then people will say, 'yeah that person really stands for this'. It's a manipulation tactic. I've seen it a hundred times. I just never thought they'd use it on me. They're usually wonderful people." She explained.

"I'm sorry." He said before he could stop himself.

She looked at him sharply. "What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry. Your parents should spoil you instead if using you to achieve a goal. You're a beautiful person who deserves everything you could ever desire." He said surely.

She stared at him, long and hard. "Thank you."

"So do you have any other ideas to what you can do?" He said, trying to shift her gaze. Her stare could drill into your soul at the best of times. In the worst of times, it was like he was sacrificing his very existence to Apollo himself.

"No. I know I have to do this, but I know if my parents cut me off, I can't survive long. I'm not like you. I don't know how to live like you do. I wasn't taught that at any stage of my life. I wouldn't know what to do if my parents disowned me like yours did to you." She shrugged.

That wasn't entirely true but since tonight wasn't about him, he kept quiet.

"So you're stuck between a rock and a hard place." He muttered.

She nodded.

"Do you have a deadline? Like you need to decide by this date?" He asked.

She shook her head. "They just told me I couldn't go, wouldn't listen to me at all, and when I said that this meant a lot to me and please just listen they said if I went, they'd cut me off and then hung up."

"Well they can't hang up on you in person. Have you considered going to see them? I'm sure your professors would understand needing to go home right now." He presented.

"Oh I couldn't do that alone. I'd end up getting roped into making another commitment or something for everything I hate when my parents saw I won't be moved. It's how it worked in high school. If I tried to do something they didn't approve of, they made another commitment for me and told me it took precedence." She sighed.

"Who said you had to go alone? We could all go with you, I'm sure everyone would love to meet your-"

"No! There is a reason I keep my parents and my friends very far away from each other ! They will not like any of you. Well, maybe Combeferre because he's going to be a doctor and he's not a hypochondriac like Joly. But I'd bet good money that they'd find something wrong with him too." She quickly shouted.

"Haven't they met him?" He asked.

"No. Well, technically. When I'm skyping them sometimes, he's come on and he has their number for emergencies and vice versa but they've never actually met him face to face." She stated.

"Well, maybe it could just be you and someone of your choosing." He tried.

"I can't choose anyone. I won't lead any of you to a slaughter." She said.

"I'm sure they'll be polite about it if you have a friend." He said.

She shrugged.

"What if I go with you?" He offered.

"Why would want to go with me? To meet people who will tear you apart like you've been fed to a pack of starving dogs?" She said lifelessly.

"Because you're my friend. At least, I hope we're still friends." He swallowed hard. It all came down to this. On whether he'd have to go and find new friends or somehow manage to keep these.

"I really do hope so. If you don't hate me by now." She bit her lip nervously.

"I could never hate you. You're a wonderful friend. Maybe you're not a perfect human being and you can get pretty unpleasant when you argue, but once I figured out that you were just mad that my argument was solid in logic and made some sort of sense that you lashed out and it wasn't personal then it stopped hurting as much. I won't say it stopped completely because you can get pretty cruel and unusual sometimes but I don't think that you think that I'm a despicable human being. It's just my argument that is despicable." He said. Granted, he only realized that about a few months ago but it still counted for something.

"You'd really take a six hour train ride with me to make sure I can go to Larmarque's funeral?" She asked, as if she couldn't believe her own ears.

He couldn't believe his own mouth. "Right now if you wanted to."

"Well we couldn't go right now. There're no trains right now. It's late in the evening. It's… eight fifteen." She said, after a quick look at the stove clock.

"Well, maybe not right at this exact second. But I can call Emma and say I need to take you home to your parents for a couple days and she'll give me the days off and I'll pack some clothes and we'll head out. But for right now in this exact second I think you should finish your food. Otherwise, I'm sure that Combeferre will have my head. Or maybe some other part that will be surely missed." He gulped cartoonishly and she laughed a little bit.

"I suppose." She turned back to her plate and he returned to his seat. His thighs almost wept from relief. Crouching and kneeling next to Enjolras for over an hour was exhausting. He dug into his food while she just picked at her own. "You know, I'm not that hungry anymore."

"Yes, you are. Though, right now, you feel a little too sad to eat. But trust me. You are hungry. Eat a few bites and then once you've done that, if you're still not hungry, I'll eat it and say you did. Deal?" He offered.

She nodded slowly and did as he asked. It wasn't long before both quesadillas were devoured.

She blushed. "You were right. I was hungry."

"It takes much more energy to be sad than happy. That's why people eat more when they're sad. Like ice cream and chocolate. Because it makes us feel good." He stated with surety.

"And what _study_ are you quoting?" She teased.

"That's real life experience right there!" He said.

She just laughed at him.

"I'm sorry to bring you down again but I think Combeferre needs to be told about this. As much as I get this is your problem to try and handle, he could have good advice and solid logic. Plus, this really does involve him greatly." He said.

"I don't want to worry him. I can handle this on my own. I'll figure something out." She said.

"I know you will. But how you would you feel if the situation were reversed and he didn't tell you and you had to find out from some other source?" He asked.

"Like he didn't trust me." She sighed.

"Right. And I can guarantee you he's noticed your behaviors been different lately." He said.

She snorted. "Different is an understatement."

"What do you mean?" He was almost afraid to ask.

"I've spent the better part of the last two days after my parents called locked in my room crying when he can't hear me." She admitted lightly.

"Yeah. I promise he's noticed there's something off about you." He swore.

She blushed.

He bit back 'you're-so-cute-when-you-blush' comment. It wasn't the time. Not when Enjolras had such a heavy weight on her mind.

"So any idea when Combeferre will be back?" He asked.

"No. I didn't ask him where he was going or when he'd be back. Though I suppose he expected us to talk about the past two days." She sighed.

"I am sorry that I missed your calls. I didn't mean to make you mad." He apologized.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions that you were ignoring me." She countered.

"You were panicking. People who are in panic mode aren't exactly thinking the straightest." He replied.

She shrugged. He cleaned up after that. Or rather he rinsed the dishes preparing to wash them before she just grabbed them from him and threw them in the dishwasher. He almost cried at the dishwasher. When he was choosing an apartment, he had to forsake a dishwasher because it made the utilities skyrocket and he just couldn't afford it. Enjolras was not amused.

"Would you like me to stay until Combeferre gets here?" He asked.

"If you do go to work tomorrow, when do you go in?" She countered.

"I don't work tomorrow. I don't work Monday through Thursday normally. Though this next week I might work Tuesday because Mark sliced his thumb open and he won't get the stitches out until two weeks from now and he can't handle food until the stitches are out." He replied.

"So if I were to say let's go visit my parents tomorrow…" She trailed off.

"I'd say, let me call Emma to tell her I couldn't work on Tuesday and that'd be that." He shrugged.

She nodded then a knock startled them both.

"Are you two still talking or am I allowed to come in?" Combeferre's voice came from behind the door.

"You're good." Grantaire called out. "I guess this answers my question."

Combeferre didn't enter though. "Actually, you come out here, Taire."

"You want me to tell him? Or do you want to do it?" He asked.

"I'll do it. But you go see what he wants." She said, starting to prepare herself.

He nodded and slipped outside. Combeferre's glasses seemed to amplify the worriedness in his eyes.

"You two talk?" Combeferre asked.

"Yeah but not about what you'd expect. We still haven't breeched the topic of sex. Other things yes. Are we good from yesterday, yes. But not that bit." Grantaire said.

"What other things? You mean what's been bugging her ever since she got back from Dr. Larmarque's house?" Combeferre inquired.

"Yeah, see, I knew you'd notice. Don't tell her that. She thinks she's hidden that from you." Grantaire said.

"With Enjolras, hiding something is almost impossible. With her, she thinks she's being quiet, but she's a loud crier and we may have a nice apartment but we still have apartment thin walls. I just know better than to approach her." Combeferre sneered.

"Don't tell her that either." Grantaire added.

"Wait, you actually got her to talk to you? About whatever it is that's been bugging her?" Combeferre asked.

"Yeah." Grantaire stated.

"I couldn't do that. I couldn't get her to talk to anyone else for the past two days. How did you do it in an hour and a half?" Combeferre demanded, looking incredulous.

"I relate to this more than anyone else. I understand this. I don't just sympathize. I know. I've been somewhere close to it. She wanted my advice and I think I've given her some good tips." Grantaire explained.

Combeferre merely nodded and headed inside. Enjolras had moved to the couch and gestured for Combeferre to sit beside her. Grantaire just stayed in Enjolras's line of sight, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Enjolras looked Combeferre straight in the eye as she told them of their possible predicament. For the first time in Grantaire's knowing him, Combeferre got angry.

"God this is extortion! They can't do this!" Combeferre exploded.

"Yes, they can. They're under no legal obligation to pay for our rent and my schooling. They do it because I'm their daughter and it's how they can exert some sort of control over me. Normally, I don't mind what they ask me to do but this obviously I have a problem with." Enjolras said, under her usual mask of composure.

"Enjolras, there has to be something you can do." Combeferre required.

"I'm going to travel to my parents' house tomorrow to talk it out with them and reach an agreement." Enjolras stated.

"Your parents are con artists. You can't go alone." Combeferre denied.

"And what makes you think she's alone?" Grantaire chimed in, in his best 'Geoffrey Rush' accent.

Enjolras just looked confused while Combeferre groaned, "Really? Out of all the movies you choose, you choose that one?"

"Johnny Depp is a gift to us all and all of his movies are wonders, no matter how bad they are." Grantaire defended.

Enjolras still just looked confused.

"Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End." Combeferre supplied.

Enjolras just shrugged, as if it no longer mattered. She didn't obsess over the amazing quotes of Johnny Depp movies, or any movies at all, like the others' did.

"All right, so you'll go with her. Do you know what you're doing? Her parents can be pretty monstrous. That's where she got her cruelty from." Combeferre warned.

"I know. I'll just run home and grab a change of clothes before we leave and-" Grantaire nodded.

"Do you have any clothes that don't have paint stains on them?" Enjolras asked suddenly.

"Um, maybe? I don't think so." Grantaire shrugged.

"Then you will borrow something from Combeferre. If I show up with you in paint-splattered clothes, they will not take anything you say seriously." Enjolras told him.

"Haters of art, huh?" He already disliked her parents and now this? Oh they were just sucking more and more.

"No, art they love. They buy it all the time. The actual artists, especially those who are going thousands of dollars into debt to make art, they don't like. They think art majors shouldn't be allowed anymore actually. Say it just makes homeless people and criminals." She said.

"Okay I hated them before but now? Now? This is unacceptable! Art is what gives people life! Art gives people an insight into their very souls! Are your parents ginger or something?" He overdramatized.

"Ginger I don't-" Combeferre started laughing before Enjolras could finish what she said.

"Rumor has it, ginger people have no soul." Grantaire explained.

"The funny part is Enjolras's father _is_ ginger." Combeferre chortled.

Grantaire burst out laughing.

"I still don't get this!" Enjolras shouted over them.

"I'll explain it later. Now bed!" Combeferre ordered.

"Bed? But it's barely nine!" Enjolras protested.

"And you didn't sleep at all last night! I can tell because those were the clothes I brought you yesterday when we went to Dr. Larmarque's house. You never change when you don't sleep. It's a bad habit of yours. Now get to bed!" Combeferre commanded.

"I'm not five! You can't just tell me when to go to bed!" Enjolras countered.

"If you don't get to bed by the count of three, I'm going to sick Grantaire on all of your speech notes and I will delete them from your computer! Don't think I won't!" Combeferre threatened.

Enjolras went pale.

"One."

Seeing the chance, Grantaire piped up, "I will! I'll do it!"

"Two."

"Fine! I'm only doing this for the sake of my speech notes otherwise, you wouldn't win." Enjolras objected but went into her bedroom.

"Thank you for that." Combeferre smiled gently.

"No problem. Happy to help." Grantaire grinned.

"And you get to bed too. You've had a long two days as well." Combeferre growled, a threat already on his tongue.

"I know better than to argue with you." Grantaire stopped him. Combeferre nodded, satisfied. "Goodbye, little, baby Enjy!"

"Combeferre, I'm going to kill you!" Enjolras shouted. "And goodbye, Grantaire, I'll see you tomorrow."

"You want to meet at my place or yours and at what time?" Grantaire asked.

"I will get up hours before you do and I will determine what train we will get on and I will drive to your house and wake you!" Enjolras yelled back.

"Fine by me! I'll leave the door unlocked for you!" Grantaire called and headed to the door.

"Do not think that what happened just outside the door counted as our 'talk'." Combeferre rumbled.

"I am still dreading it. I will fear you appropriately when this does happen." Grantaire said quickly.

Combeferre nodded and Grantaire had to swallow down his fear. Mamma-Ferre is a force to be reckoned with and it was not something he wanted to get on the bad side of.

* * *

**Wow so guess who stayed up until past three thirty (that was the last time I looked at the clock) to finish Chapter Two? Meeeeeee! Help! At first I was all like 'I don't need sleep' and right now I'm like 'I really need sleep'. I think I'm to going to take a nap now.**

**And I don't know why but apparently it's been decided that whenever there's a Modern AU that Grantaire seems to work at a café/deli/sandwich shop. Weird, huh?**

**Leave a review if you liked it. Or hated it. Or whatever. Goodbye, everyone and see you on the other side of the internet!**


	3. Chapter 3

Someone was kicking his mattress. He could feel the vibrations but decided that the vibrations weren't serious so he just shifted and tried to go back to sleep.

"Grantaire, get up! Or I will have to use methods no one likes." Someone shouted. He knew that voice but he was tired so he ignored it.

"I have coffee." The wonderful smell drifted into his nose but he just burrowed deeper into the pillow. Why couldn't whoever this was just let him sleep?

"All right. Don't say I didn't warn you." The voice said but he was already half-asleep so he no longer cared.

Suddenly, cold water was being dumped on his head. He jumped up and tried to blink the water out of his eyes. A blue blur was standing next to him. He wiped the water out and found Enjolras stand there with arms crossed.

"Wha- huh?" He mumbled, stupefied.

"Get up. I've given us forty-five minutes to get to the train station." Enjolras stated.

"What time is it?" He asked.

"Six in the morning." She answered.

"Why did you get me up at six in the morning?" He glared at her.

She was unfazed. "Because the train leaves at seven. It _is_ a six hour ride."

"Ugh, why did I agree to go with you?!" He groaned.

"If you don't want to come, you don't have to." She snapped, but he could read in her face the doubts that had started to plague her mind.

"I promised I'd come and I will. I just don't want to get up to do it." He sighed and threw off his covers.

Enjolras reached into her bag and pulled out a light blue button-up and pair of black slacks.

"I wasn't kidding when I said that you'd borrow something from Combeferre. It should fit. You two are roughly the same size." She handed them out to him.

He shook his head, took the clothes but set them aside. "If it's really six hours, I'll change when we get to your hometown. I'm not sitting on a cramped train for six hours in uncomfortable clothes."

Enjolras nodded, took back the clothes and pulled coffee from nowhere. He accepted it gratefully. She stepped into the living room so he could change into a t-shirt and jeans. Once he woke himself up, packed some clothes for a couple days, and prepared himself the best he could for meeting Enjolras's parents, he came back out to see Enjolras tapping her foot in annoyance. Now that he was well and truly awake, he almost couldn't believe what he saw. She was in a navy blue semi-formal dress. As far as he knew, as far as everyone in the Les Amis knew, Enjolras hated dresses with a fiery passion. She called them archaic reminders of barbaric social norms. Though she never criticized anyone for wearing one, Enjolras in a dress seemed impossible. It was a conservative V-neck with three quarter sleeves that just barely covered her knees. She had a messenger bag he'd never seen before slung over her shoulder packed to the brim and her shoes were silver heels, something else she'd never worn before. She wore light make-up (or a least he thought she was just because she looked a bit different and he knew she detested make-up because of the impossible beauty standards they appealed to to help sell their product) and a necklace. Her hair curled down her neck with definitive style, another first. Enjolras looked like she had actually put time and effort into her appearance.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She demanded.

"Because you've lost your mind. Dresses are evil and shouldn't be forced down girls' throats anymore." He quoted.

"This is how I used to dress. I come from a very rich town. Most people dress like this." She shrugged.

"What, like every day? To go to school and the grocery store and shit?" He asked.

"Maybe not everywhere but considering the circumstances and when we arrive, we will be talking to them at work, so this is the proper dress code for such an occasion." She stated.

He just cocked an eyebrow and grabbed his keys.

"I'm driving. I know where we're going." Enjolras said as she walked out.

"It's the only train station in town. I know where it is too." He countered.

"Then sleep in the car." She dismissed.

"We have a six hour train ride for sleeping." He remarked.

"Why won't you just listen to me for once?" She asked.

"Why won't you let me drive?" He shot back.

"I don't trust your driving." She answered, but as she said, Enjolras was a terrible liar.

"Not true." He said with a tune.

"All right. It's easier to avoid talking to you when I'm driving." She admitted as she got into the driver's seat of her car.

"You could just say that you want it to be quiet." He tried.

"Perhaps." She said, and he realized that she hadn't thought of saying that. Well, Enjolras may have a way with words but a way with people was something she sorely lacked.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" He accused softly.

"No. I couldn't. I was too worried." She confessed.

"It's not like your introducing your parents to your boyfriend." He said, trying to lighten the mood.

She didn't answer him.

"Just drive. We can discuss that later." He said, realizing his mistake. He still didn't know what they were. They had never answered that question.

The ride to the station started quiet. Unable to stand the silence, he put on the radio. Classical music started to flow through the car. He should've known Enjolras would listen to classical music. Suddenly, Enjolras groaned.

"I hate when Combeferre leaves the radio on this after he takes my car."

She changed it to a station known for its constant replay of seventies hits. Corny ones too. Songs like_ I've Never Been to Me_ and _The Pina Colada Song_. They were good songs but being played every hour did make them a bit more annoying than usual. It was not something he thought Enjolras would listen to.

"Through early morning fog I see  
Visions of the things to be  
The pains that are withheld for me  
I realize and I can see"

It took a few seconds for Grantaire to realize that Enjolras was _singing_. To _Suicide is Painless_ no less. He wouldn't have even thought this song would enter Enjolras's world. But he had to admit, Enjolras wasn't bad. She wasn't great, like pure talent, but she kept the melody and hit the right notes. Apparently, he was learning new things about her every day.

Once the song was over, he allowed himself a, "Huh?!"

"It's the theme song from M*A*S*H*. Don't you know it?" Enjolras asked.

"Yeah. Not from M*A*S*H* but yeah I know it." He answered. "How do _you_ know it?"

"Wednesdays from two to four." Enjolras stated.

"Excuse me?" Grantaire prompted.

"Wednesdays from two to four. My elementary school got out at one thirty on Wednesdays so I always made it home in time for lunch and a M*A*S*H* marathon. Mom and Dad loved the show so it was something we could all talk about at dinner." She smiled gently.

His own mouth twisted into a smile. It was obviously a fond memory for Enjolras. So he just let her enjoy all the corny songs from the seventies. He had other questions for her but since she wanted to avoid talking he'd let them wait. They had six more hours together. They arrived at the train station exactly at six forty-five as planned. Enjolras bought them both tickets while he stepped out to use the restroom though he tried to convince her to let him pay for his own ticket. Her response was only, "They haven't cut me off yet, Grantaire. I can pay for this." He had several arguments but the tickets had already been paid for and there was no use. Enjolras wouldn't accept him trying to pay her back. He'd have to buy her something in return instead.

They arrived at the gate five minutes before it was scheduled to leave. When Grantaire started to get in, Enjolras stopped him.

"You really think I'm going to ride for six hours in that cramped thing they call a car? No way. Come on." She rolled her eyes at him and he unsurely followed her to the front of the train. She found two seats in first class and sat down. He slowly sank into the seat next to her.

"Are we supposed to be here?" He whispered to her.

When she pulled the tickets out to check, he grabbed them from her. Two round-trip tickets in first class. These were expensive! He'd never be able to buy her something this expensive, not even over the course of multiple days!

"Why do you look like I've just kicked your favorite puppy?" She asked quietly.

"Enjolras, I… I can't-" He stuttered.

"Grantaire please let me do this for you. Especially after last night." She pleaded.

Intellectually, he knew Enjolras bought things for people. It was one of the few ways she knew how to show affection. He was at Feuilly's once and saw what very easily could've been an entire aisle the crafts store had for fan-making. Feuilly had said that Enjolras bought it for him for helping her with a paper about Poland during the plague. When asked, Combeferre had laughed and said that Enjolras wasn't sure what to buy so she simply bought everything they had. That had made sense to her. But to someone like Feuilly, who sometimes wasn't sure when his next meal was, to someone like him, that made no sense. Grantaire had never known money. Even when he was with his parents, they were still dirt poor. Which is why there were so many problems. Well, one reason why. His family had always been fucked up. But he didn't like thinking about such things, and Enjolras needed an answer.

"Fine. At least let me buy lunch." He tried.

"Oh no. If you can't afford a new coffee maker for fifteen bucks then you can't afford lunch in my hometown. Besides, my parents will buy lunch." She countered.

"How about a compromise? If you get cut off, I'll buy lunch on the way back." He snickered.

Surprisingly, she agreed. "Fine. But only if."

The train lurched to life and started on its way.

"Have you ever had singing lessons?" He asked, deciding to change the subject.

"I did. When I was a child. My parents demanded I learn some kind of music as it encouraged culture and it helped with finding interests and friends. Also, it kept me busy after school. That way I wasn't just sitting at home watching TV the entire time." She nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"You're good." He said.

"No, I'm not. I'm decent but nothing worth noting. I simply know how to follow a song." She dismissed.

"Still. Quite enjoyable." He smiled.

"Oh no. No getting any ideas in your head. I don't sing in public, I certainly don't do karaoke, and I don't sing covers!" She pouted.

"Courfeyrac?" He guessed.

"He overheard me singing 'Dancing Queen' when I thought I was home alone. I still don't know how I got him to keep quiet about it." She replied.

"'Dancing Queen'? What's with the seventies music? I had you pegged for a classical music or a forties music type girl." He said.

"I hate classical music. It's sweet and melodic, sure, but I prefer songs with lyrics. I like something you can sing and dance to. And not just waltzing either. Forties music is all right, I do really like the Rat Pack but it's not my absolute favorite." She responded.

"Wow. Who would've thought that you could dance? I would've thought the stick up your ass prevented you from bending over." He teased.

"Why does everyone assume I'm an uptight bitch who hates everything?" She asked exasperatedly.

"Because you act like an uptight bitch who hates everything around most people. Most people see you as a social justice warrior who refuses to hear anything from anyone. You decimate people's arguments and people take that personally. Also, you can't take a joke." He explained.

She turned away from him, pouting. He started laughing. Even pouting Enjolras was adorable. (Granted, having been in love with her so long, he would probably think her going psycho and killing people would also be adorable.)

"Don't laugh. Simply because I have a different sense of humor doesn't mean I can't take jokes." She growled.

He did his best to smother his laughter but it didn't really help. Enjolras was beautiful when angry. So a change in the subject was needed.

"So what do your parents do?" He asked.

"Oh they work for some big, stupid Fortune 500 company. Dad does some extra work in the government occasionally but not too often. That was more my grandfather." She said vaguely.

Guessing she didn't want to talk about it now, he dropped it. He'd find out soon enough anyways. Apparently, they _were_ going to see her parents at work.

"Thank you for coming, Grantaire. I know you didn't have to." She whispered, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Enjolras, I promise, there is nowhere I'd rather be right now." He promised.

She smiled, looking relieved and the train's conductor announced that the snack car was now open.

"Here. I'll get us some coffee and breakfast. How about that?" He offered.

"Oh we get that for free. They'll come to us." She shrugged.

He just went with that.

"I'm guessing you've never been in first class before." She murmured.

"Yeah. Could never afford it." He answered.

She hummed a response and handed him a menu. "Disregard the price. It's basically included in the ticket."

Holy shit. They had everything in first class. Free food, comfy seats, lots of leg room, and even concierge service. He could get used to this. If only his bank account could. And he had anywhere to go on the train. Unlike most of the others, he didn't have a 'home' to go to for the holidays.

Enjolras then pulled out a book and began to read. He waited until the steward came over and took their orders for coffee, eggs, toast and bacon before putting in his headphones. The very beat up old Creative mp3 player that had been with him for many years. It had been a gift from his mother when he was sixteen. They had actually been able to celebrate Christmas that year with actual presents. It may have been old and dirty but it was his and he treasured it above all his other possessions. 'Tainted Love' started and he waited for their food. Then his phone buzzed.

**Combeferre**: You two on the train yet?

**Grantaire**: Yeah. Six hours to go.

**Combeferre**: Can you make sure she gets something to eat? She skipped breakfast this morning.

**Grantaire**: I got food coming for us now. I'll get her to eat.

**Combeferre**: Thanks. Keep me updated on her will you?

**Grantaire**: Sure. Isn't this something she does though?

**Combeferre**: Yes. The fact that she's not means she's a lot more scared than she's letting on. There must be something else she's worried about.

**Grantaire**: How can she worry about something else? I know her teachers will excuse her from her class and she doesn't have a job. Plus the Amis will understand that she needs to go home and see her parents just after Larmarque died. She doesn't have to tell them that they're fighting.

**Combeferre**: I don't think it's that. Since apparently she talks to you, why don't you ask her?

**Grantaire**: Is that jealousy I detect, Monsieur?

**Combeferre**: I'll explain to the others. They'll probably call her throughout the day though. They're worried about her. She's completely cut off all contact with them. Not purposefully of course but I can only tell them not to pry for so long.

**Grantaire**: Right. And why am I going with her?

**Combeferre**: Because you were there. They all know you were there. So to Enjolras, it makes sense that you go. Plus you wanted to get out of class today.

**Grantaire**: It's a little insulting and terrifying that you know all of us so well.

When the food came, he watched Enjolras eat like a hawk. She noticed after a while.

"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" She asked.

"Yeah. Combeferre said to make sure you eat and I am more afraid of him than I am of you." He answered lightly.

"Ugh. He acts like I can't take care of myself." She groaned.

"Do we need to have this conversation again?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"I am not incompetent when it comes to taking care of myself." She repeated.

"It's not that you're incompetent, but as you said, it's not a priority. So he worries. You can't lead a revolution from a hospital bed." He said.

"I suppose not. Will you text him and say that I have eaten my breakfast thoroughly?" She asked sardonically.

He just gave her his phone. She sent a quick text and handed it back.

**Combeferre**: Don't yell at me because you don't ever eat anything.

He just laughed. The relationship Combeferre and Enjolras shared was often hilarious. They'd only know each other for three years, same as most everyone else, but the two had become like family the day they met. Every Ami knew the story. Enjolras had been given the wrong room number to move into in her dorms and ended up being moved into a dorm with two other boys who had moved in a day earlier. Combeferre and Courfeyrac. She had completely hit it off when the boys helped her move in and saw her collection of books. It got better when they saw they had two classes together. The next day, the boy who was supposed to move in arrived and somehow Enjolras convinced him he would be better off in the dorm he was mistakenly designated. (The fact that he would be one boy with two women obviously helped.) After that, the three seemed inseparable until their sophomore year when they all moved out of the expensive and cramped dorms and Courfeyrac found a cheap apartment and a naïve, innocent Pontmercy to share it with. Though with the fact that Courfeyrac spent a lot of time at Combeferre and Enjolras's apartment, sometimes it was like he'd never left them. But it was with Combeferre who Enjolras really hit it off with. He was the one who got her to eat, sleep and remember. To be honest, when he first met Combeferre he was certain he was going out with Enjolras. When Combeferre had denounced this, Grantaire hadn't believed him until Enjolras blew up at him saying she and Combeferre weren't dating. She apologized later, saying she shouldn't have acted so harshly and she bought him a sandwich to make it better. It had been a good sandwich.

"R? Grantaire? Hello?" Enjolras was saying.

"Oh sorry. Got lost in thought I guess. Yes?" He answered.

"Does your cell phone connect to the internet? Mine doesn't and I forgot to email my teachers saying I wouldn't be at class." She asked.

"I'm sure your professors wouldn't mind you ditching a couple days. I think everyone at school knew you two were close. It's a small school." He assured her.

"That wasn't my question, R." She glared.

"Yes it connects to the internet." He handed her back his phone.

She spent the next ten minutes typing away at his keyboard and just as she finished, her own phone rang.

"Hello… yes, hello Jehan… really I'm okay… I just need to go home for a couple days…didn't 'Ferre tell all of you I'm not going alone… R's with me… no I haven't killed him yet… well obviously he hasn't killed me since I'm talking with you, idiot… really, Jehan I'm fine… I promise… I'll be back soon… of course I'll be back in time for the funeral, what am I stupid… sorry, I didn't mean to snap… I know… yes, I love you too… I will… bye.

Jehan says hello and that he's not helping you bury my body."

"Damn, I really was going to need his help. Guess I'll have to find someone else." He muttered.

She smiled gently and then went back to reading. He put his earbuds back in and closed his eyes. After some time, maybe about ten songs, he felt something crash against his shoulder. Startled, he turned to see what it was. Enjolras, her book hanging loosely from limp fingers, sleeping soundly. He pushed her up slightly so he could move the armrest in between the two seats and slide a little closer to her. With this newfound room, she snuggled into the crook of his neck and he pried the book away from her, marked its place and settled back down to continue listening to his music. He knew he wouldn't sleep, even in the extremely comfortable chairs because the train moved too much. All public transportation moved too much for him to fall asleep. He didn't like things that vibrated or rattled when he was trying to sleep. He didn't trust them, or it, or whatever.

Speaking of vibrating, Enjolras's phone rang again. Grantaire accepted the call before it woke Enjolras.

"Hello?"

"Grantaire? Why do you have Enjolras's phone?" Bahorel asked loudly.

"Quiet. She's asleep. And you know the rule." Grantaire reminded.

"I know. Whoever wakes her must not only deal with the wrath of Enjolras but that of Combeferre as well. I know." Bahorel groaned.

"And I am not brave enough to face that. You know me. I'm a big chicken." Grantaire even bawked a couple times to add emphasis.

"When it comes to Mamma 'Ferre, everyone is a chicken." Bahorel laughed. "Is she okay?"

"She will be. Going home will be good for her." He half-lied.

"Are you okay? Dealing with her?" Bahorel inquired.

"She's not herself so it is easier. The fact that she's not herself makes it scarier, that's for damn sure, but she's much easier to be around. Less angry. More sad." He answered, glad to answer something truthfully.

"When she wakes up, tell her we miss her, and we'll do whatever she needs for her to be okay." Bahorel said before ending the call.

As if on cue, his phone rang the next minute.

"Hello?"

"Why are _you_ going with her?" Courfeyrac demanded, sounding angry and upset at the same time.

"Because she wanted me to. She wants to do this by herself and I can just find a place on the sidelines to stay in the shadows." He half-lied.

"Didn't she trust the rest of us?" The fact that Courfeyrac really meant him didn't go unnoticed.

"It's not about trust, 'Fey. It's about doing what's best for Enjolras right now." He replied.

Courfeyrac sniffled miserably. "It's just not fair. She's been so upset lately. Combeferre has been texting me with updates but he kept forbidding me from coming over. I always make her feel better when she's crying. Why do you get that now?"

"Because I was there, Courf. I drove her to the hospital, right now I'm a pretty constant force in her life. Combeferre said she wants me to go because she doesn't want to be alone but she doesn't want to constantly talk about her feelings. And since I never do that, this all works out." Grantaire responded.

"I miss her." Courfeyrac mumbled.

"I know. But she'll be back soon. Hopefully, she'll be a little better after she comes back. It'll be okay. You'll take care of her when she cries after she's talked to her parents." He said.

"You're going to see her parents? You lucky bastard. None of us get to meet her parents. Even Combeferre hasn't really met her parents." Courfeyrac sulked.

"Well, that's kind of up for debate. I might just say hello and catch a taxi to a bar or something." Technically it wasn't a lie but it wasn't that much of a truth. God he hated this. But if Enjolras wanted secrecy, that meant lying.

"I suppose. Tell me what they look like, will you?" Courfeyrac asked, and Grantaire knew he was forgiven for being the one Enjolras let in.

"I will. I'll sneak a picture to you guys." He chuckled.

"Good. Because I've known her ever since the day she got here and I still don't know what her parents look like!" Courfeyrac grumbled loudly.

"Hey shut up. Do you want to wake her up?" Grantaire hissed.

"She's asleep? Shit why didn't you tell me?" Courfeyrac demanded, his voice barely audible.

"Well I answered her phone." Grantaire said.

"Dude, I called you. On your phone." Courfeyrac stated.

"Well, I'll be damned. You did. I knew that. So yes, she's asleep. She's quite comfortable on my shoulder." Grantaire replied after looking at the phone in his hand which was indeed his.

"You are a big, lovable teddy bear under all the alcohol and cynicism." Courfeyrac mused.

"I am not! That's Bahorel." He teased, making Courfeyrac laugh.

"I guess. So if you're not a teddy bear, you're a marshmallow. That's it! You're a burnt marshmallow. All hard and crunchy on the outside and warm and gooey on the inside! Perfect! That's the new way to describe you, I'm sending that to everyone we know." Courfeyrac bubbled with excitement.

"I swear to God, you send that out and I'll destroy you. I'll tell Enjolras you were the one to forget to put the lid on the coffee pot that day." Actually, no one knew who had forgotten to put the lid on the coffee pot that day but it still ended with second-degree burns on both Bousset and Musichetta. Enjolras had not been amused when they all had to make a trip to the ER.

"You wouldn't." Courfeyrac murmured.

"I would. I am not above petty revenge and I will wait until the time is right to exact said revenge." He threatened.

"All right, maybe not everyone we know." Courfeyrac conceded.

Knowing that was the best he could get with Courfeyrac, he dropped the subject.

"I know Larmarque wasn't as close to you but are you okay?" Grantaire asked.

"I want to be with Enjolras right now. She needs me." Courfeyrac said. Which was Courfeyrac-speak for he would draw comfort from comforting Enjolras.

"You want me to wake her up? I know she wants to talk to you." Grantaire whispered.

"I want you to but let her sleep. She's probably slept like crap since." Courfeyrac sighed.

Actually the night they slept together she seemed fine but Grantaire only said, "Yeah I know she needs it."

"You okay?" Courfeyrac inquired.

"Yeah. She's not that heavy." Grantaire whispered.

"All right. I'm going to let you go now." Courfeyrac finished. "I got class."

"All right. Have fun. Take notes so Enjolras will be satisfied." Grantaire said.

"I will. Take care of her, Grantaire. I mean it. She needs someone strong right now. She'd better be okay when she gets home." Courfeyrac hung up.

He put his phone away. Courfeyrac's last comment stuck with him. He didn't know if she'd be better when she got back. If her parents cut her off, then she might not be willing to go back to school at all. But hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. Enjolras told wonderful stories about her parents. They were at every school play, every debate team match, every big event. They were supposed to be very supportive. He thought they were. Enjolras may not think so, but he really thought Enjolras's parents were trying to look out for her. Or maybe just her image. Given the fact that they did some work in the government and from Enjolras's stories obviously image meant a lot to them.

As the time passed with him only listening to music, he found he grew quite bored quite fast. Music is great and all but he couldn't dance, he had a sleeping Enjolras on him, he couldn't sing, he had a sleeping Enjolras on him, and he even couldn't nod his head to the beat, other passengers were already giving him looks like he shouldn't be there. He didn't mention that he agreed with them and he was only here to appease Enjolras. It would've ruined his defiant looks back. Just because he wears comfortable clothes covered in paint doesn't mean he couldn't belong in first class. But still the problem was, he was bored. Seeing Enjolras's book, he figured he could at least stomach this. Knowing her, it was probably homework or a book about old laws. However, the book was old and worn, with a cracked spine and notes all over each page. Detailed descriptions littered each page with highlighted quotes and underlined and circled words. It was years of analysis crammed into the margins and chapter breaks. Some of the notes blended into each other and you could see some of the eraser marks of words that had been there for days, weeks or even years that were mistaken or unintelligible. You could see where she ran out of room and had to find another place to continue writing. This was a loved book, a favorite beyond perception, and his heart warmed at the sight. He hadn't even bothered to look at the title because he thought it was going to be a boring read. _To Kill a Mockingbird_. He'd heard of this book. He read it maybe once when in middle school or something. It hadn't stuck with him like it so obviously did Enjolras. So he decided he'd go over some of her notes. After all, it couldn't hurt. It wasn't like he was reading her diary. The first thing that caught his attention was one quote that she had highlighted twice, in two different colors, with an underline and circles around each word. "As you grow older, you'll see white men cheat black men every day of your life, but let me tell you something and don't you forget it - whenever a white man does that to a black man, no matter who he is, how rich he is, or how fine a family he comes from, that white man is trash." Squeezed into the margins were the words, "Most important quote, nothing has changed, this still means so much, Lucy is trash because of this, freaking perfect cheerleader who needs to stop putting so much make-up on, she looks like a prostitute, I shouldn't be able to come up with examples for this, not now, not ever, too much racism in our world." He flipped back and saw another page with a quote that was extremely gussied up. "It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what." Some of the notes consisted of things like "beyond racism, beyond social justice, like doing that stupid role in the school play, I really hope I don't pass out on stage, fixed trial, Atticus knows Tom'll get convicted, nothing he can do but tell the truth." Who was Lucy? Why would she pass out on stage? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was like reading her diary. Enjolras was a very private person and he'd never seen her write in a journal. This book was probably her journal. Her life story written in the margins and chapter breaks. He was so tempted to keep reading, to see what her life was like before she came to school and so obviously changed. Enjolras performed speeches to the entire school and she once had stage fright? It seemed delicious. He really wanted to see what other insecurities and fears she hid in the analysis of this book. But, he knew if he did, then it would be just as bad as reading her diary. Reading something that wasn't his to read. But there was something else that caught his eye. It was someone else's handwriting. It couldn't have been Enjolras's, even from previous years, the a's and the l's didn't match up. Also it was in pen, something Enjolras hardly ever used since it couldn't be erased. Even some of the analysis had been erased around this mark. "Hey, love! Remember we've got that science test tomorrow so study! Oh and my parents said it was cool for me to come to your place so I can tutor you! Oh if only they knew. See you at three! Love you!" Okay. He was so meant not to read that. That was something between Enjolras and whoever this was. Taking a guess, he thought it had to be a boy's handwriting, seeing the hard-pressed pencil lines, and the jumbled writing compared to Enjolras's elegant script. Thinking of Enjolras having friends before the Amis was weird. She had been so alone when she came to college. They often asked her how she kept in contact with the kids from her high school. She simply said that she didn't. Whether or not high school was a good time for her was up for debate. She had nice parents, according to her, and she did have friends. She just never spoke to them again. But considering Enjolras, that seemed normal. Enjolras dealt love and cruelty without any difference between the two. As they all loved to say, Enjolras is a great young woman capable of being terrible. Since they never said that to her face, he wasn't sure whether she agreed with that. He did.

But since, even after all that thought, he was still pretty bored on the rumbling train and so he decided to reread the book and do his best to ignore Enjolras's little notes unless they had nothing to do with her personal life. The hard part was all of her personal notes were mixed in with the analysis. So even though he craved for more insight into who Enjolras was when she was younger, he wouldn't touch those notes with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole. Or at least he tried to. Sometimes even though curiosity killed the cat, the cat still went out to see what was so dangerous. Even though he probably shouldn't have looked, he found out that Enjolras knew someone named Dustin Adkins who she called a Scrooge(which he felt was a bit hypocritical since Enjolras didn't celebrate winter holidays like most people) and compared to Link Deas which he couldn't understand. He got a very nice guy vibe from the character and saying someone was a great guy and also a shrewd moneylender was odd. But if anything, it was so very Enjolras. He also learned that her favorite line was "People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for, and they have the right to subject their children to it, but I can assure you of one thing: you will receive what you see and hear in silence or you will leave this courtroom, but you won't leave it until the whole boiling of you come before me on contempt charges." The notes on the pages were so close together and overlapped so often he couldn't read them. Pen marks were written over by pencil and years of age and wear seemed to show. The binding of the book seemed almost undone by how many times she'd pressed on it in this certain position. The chapter break was a sardine can filled with so many words it would almost burst. He was surprised she kept writing after everything became unintelligible. Whatever it was, it must have meant a lot to her. But since he doubted she'd be happy he read the book at all, he wasn't going to ask even though he was burning to know. However, there was someone he could ask.

**Grantaire**: Hey, have you ever read her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird?

**Combeferre**: No. Why?

**Grantaire**: Oh. I thought you had. She brought it with her.

**Combeferre**: She brings it everywhere. I'm not surprised.

**Grantaire**: Well, she's written in it.

**Combeferre**: I know she has. Is there a reason you're asking?

**Grantaire**: I may have read some.

**Combeferre**: What the book? It's a great book. She loves it.

**Grantaire**: No her notes.

**Combeferre**: I didn't think you'd be able to read through all of that analysis.

**Grantaire**: Well only some of it is analysis. Some of it is a little like a diary.

**Combeferre**: And you kept reading?!

**Grantaire**: I was bored and this is the only book I have access to.

**Combeferre**: You idiot.

**Grantaire**: Look, I asked because I was wondering if you knew some of her favorite quotes and I was wondering why one was so important.

**Combeferre**: She may talk to me more than anyone else on the planet, but the fact remains that Enjolras is still an extremely private person when it comes to anything to do with before she came to college. I know Enjolras better than anyone else, but there are some gaps in even my veritable libraries of knowledge about her.

**Grantaire**: That's a hell of a way to say she and I may talk but she doesn't tell me everything.

**Combeferre**: I'm doing an essay right now and as much as I understand the reason why, I've run out of things to talk about. It's pharmacology and I can't find much on the topic I've been assigned. So I'm afraid I must take a leaf out of everyone else's book and writing out words that I could condense to try and boost me over the page limit.

**Grantaire**: Is it working?

**Combeferre**: Surprisingly, yes.

**Grantaire**: And you call us slackers.

**Combeferre**: Doing that for every essay is slacking off and not fulfilling your potential.

**Grantaire**: You know, sometimes I wonder if you're just someone who spouts off all this holier-than-thou bullshit and has a secret life that nobody knows about and would be so ashamed to say we know you if we found out.

**Combeferre**: Well, if I do, I obviously can't tell you, can I?

**Grantaire**: Shit. Does this mean I'm your next victim?

**Combeferre**: If I were to have a secret life, I would not be a serial killer.

**Grantaire**: THAT'S JUST WHAT A SERIAL KILLER WOULD SAY! DON'T KILL ME! I WON'T TELL THE COPS ANYTHING!

**Combeferre**: How's Enjolras?

**Grantaire**: Asleep on my shoulder. She's been this way since about forty-five minutes into the trip. I'm probably gonna wake her up soon. We're almost there and I need to change clothes.

**Combeferre**: Why can't you change yourself?

**Grantaire**: One- Ew. Two- the bag is under her feet and I can't move it without disturbing her. Or move myself because she's adorable and comfortable and I'm trapped.

**Combeferre**: I see. Have coffee ready when you do wake her. And send me updates about when you get there and find her parents and all that jazz.

**Grantaire**: You got it. Ttyl.

He flagged down a hostess and ordered a cup of coffee. She nodded with a bright smile on her face, he silently wondered how these people didn't break their faces trying to smile so often, and a few minutes later she returned with coffee, cream and sugar since he didn't know how Enjolras took her coffee. He gently shook his shoulder, trying to jostle her awake. That didn't work.

"Enjolras. Enjolras." He tried. "Oh God, get up. We're almost there. I have coffee."

Nothing.

So he simply set the coffee, sugar and cream out of where they could spill, and quickly stood up. Enjolras fell against the seat and jerked awake.

"Jesus! What was that for?" She groaned.

"You weren't getting up. I need your bag. I need to change. We're about a half an hour out." He said, presenting her with the coffee, cream and sugar.

"Fine. Because you have coffee, I forgive you. Besides, I need to make a call." She handed him the messenger bag and he pulled out the 'proper' clothes Enjolras packed for him.

He slipped into the bathroom and wormed his way out of his own clothes and into Combeferre's. Thankfully, Enjolras was right and he and Combeferre were roughly the same size. The shirt sleeves were a little short but when he rolled them up, it made it look like a three-quarters shirt so it didn't seem too noticeable to him. Hopefully, Enjolras would approve.

He went back to their seats and found Enjolras still on the phone.

"Thanks a lot. And you won't tell them? It'll be a surprise? Good. I'll see you soon. Bye." She hung up and he came back into her line of sight. She motioned for him to spin around, which he did, trying to keep an eye on her face. Her expression was neutral yet her eyes were filled with a strict standard he doubted he could meet. But when she smiled a bit, hopefully it wasn't too bad.

"Why'd you roll up the sleeves?" She asked.

"Because Combeferre is shorter than I am and they were too short." He answered.

"Hmm. All right. Sit down. We've still got a bit to go." She ordered.

"So anything I should know before we go meet your parents?" He inquired.

"Try not to curse, it's not polite and they're not that cool. Um, it's better to tell a half-truth than a lie, Dad's basically a lie detector which is really ironic, also don't mention the fact that we had sex, Mom and Dad are blissfully unaware that I'm sexually active. They're really nice people, I swear, it's just sometimes when they set their eyes on something they put on blinders and they don't realize it." She rambled.

"Enjolras, I'm sure they're great. All parents have failings. Cosette's dad is way too overprotective, and he's one of the nicest people we know, right?" He reminded her.

She nodded. "Yeah, Jean is a good man."

"And Marius's grandfather can be a piece of work but he still tries to do his best for Marius. And Joly's parents don't quite understand his hypochondria and I don't think they ever will but they still try. All parents have failings, yours are no exception. But just because there are parts of their parenting that suck doesn't mean they're bad people or bad parents. Obviously watching M*A*SH* was some really great memories for you and your parents knew it could connect you and them. And from what you've told us, your parents sound great. Which is why we all want to meet them. Maybe we won't agree with their politics, like we do with Marius's grandfather, but if you speak highly of them then we know you wouldn't lie to us and they're good people. Understand?"

"Thank you." She whispered.

"Don't mention it. What do they like? Their music taste, movies, tell me about them." He tried.

"Mom's like me. She adores seventies music and she's the worst dancer. Don't tell her I said that. Daddy is a closet musical lover. He'll always pretend that we're making him go and stuff, but he'll enjoy every second of it." She started.

"Is that why you got into theater?" He asked before he could stop himself. Shit, now she was gonna know he read her book. Oh why did he have to pick up that book? They were doing so well!

"Yeah. Also it was because I was in choir and we didn't have many theater kids who could sing. Those singing lessons I told you about? Well, they were put to use for the school musicals." She nodded, completely missing that she'd never told anyone about that before.

"You were in school musicals?" He asked, completely dumbfounded.

"Two of them. Kiss Me Kate and Chicago. I was terrible in both of them." She laughed lightly.

"Oh really? Well I think I've found some lovely conversation starters for your parents. Who did you play? Please pray tell." He grinned.

"Don't you dare. I swear to God I'll make you pay for that. I was one of the gangsters in Kiss Me Kate and the Hungarian in Chicago." She grudgingly admitted.

"Why were you a gangster? Aren't those supposed to be guys? And don't they tap dance?" He inquired.

"Yeah but we ran out of guys. So I played a guy. And yes they are supposed to tap dance but nobody knew how to so instead trying to teach us we just tapped really badly on purpose. It made it funny apparently. I didn't understand it." She explained.

"I can picture it perfectly." He smirked.

"Breathe a word to anyone about this and I will castrate you." She growled.

"Isn't that cruel and unusual punishment?" He teased.

"No. That punishment fits the crime." She said, completely deadpan.

He gulped.

She smiled mischievously.

"Oh look this is our stop, let's go." He said quickly and grabbed his backpack. She checked and rechecked that she had everything and they headed to the exit. Enjolras thanked the hostess for her service and they got off. Together they walked out.

"Hey do you want me to go get us a cab?" He asked as they were approaching the entrance/exit.

"No I've got us a ride. I don't take cabs unless I have to." She shook her head.

He followed her outside to the loading area. Suddenly, he couldn't take his eyes off something. There, an Aston Martin was waiting with an older gentleman waiting beside it, getting the attention of most everyone around it. It was a fantastic piece of machinery. Enjolras was walking straight to it. That couldn't be her car. She had to be going to the one next to it or something. She couldn't drive an Aston Martin. The car she used for school was a Honda Civic.

"Miss Julia! What a pleasure to see you!" The older dude called to them, having a noticeable British accent.

"Hey Jeeves! I've missed you!" She grinned widely and hugged the man.

"Jeeves? You have a chauffeur and his name is Jeeves?!" Grantaire demanded.

"Who is this?" 'Jeeves' asked.

"This is Grantaire, a friend from school. And yes, my family has a butler and chauffeuring is one of his duties and no his name isn't really Jeeves. But Daddy always called him Jeeves to tease when I was younger and so I called him Jeeves and the name stuck." She explained.

"My name is Reginald, sir." 'Jeeves' supplied.

"Reginald? Did your parents know you were going to be a butler? Can this get anymore cliché?" Grantaire exclaimed.

Enjolras gave him a good smack to the arm. "Get in the car."

He ducked his head, rubbed his arm and did as she said. She followed in quickly.

"Don't forget to buckle up!" Reginald smiled.

"You have a butler. And you call him Jeeves. No wonder you don't talk about your home life much. If Courfeyrac got a hold of this, you'd never live it down." Grantaire remarked.

"Where are my parents having lunch today?" Enjolras announced, very loudly changing the subject.

"They're having lunch at Descartes today. Reservations are scheduled at one forty-five. I've already made the correction for there to be four seats. I'll swing by and pick them up." Reginald said.

"Fantastic, thank you Jeeves." Enjolras chirped. Then she hissed in Grantaire's ear. "Don't tell anyone. Please."

"I always knew you were rich but I didn't know you were this rich." Grantaire mumbled.

"That's what you're focusing on?" She asked.

"Sh. Still processing."

She just laughed at him.

* * *

**Oh my God. I've really got to stop this. Constantly staying up so late just to finish one of these chapters is very unhealthy. I'm sorry it's been such a long time. But with Thanksgiving and finals coming up, it seems I can only write very late at night while studying. So I'm going to bed. Goodbye, everyone and see you on the other side of the internet.**


	4. Chapter 4

"AXA? Your parents run AXA? That's one of the biggest companies in the world! Literally!" Grantaire shouted as they pulled up to the skyscraper.

"I am quite aware of that Grantaire. There is no need to shout." She growled.

"You led a protest against them last year!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah. If they could only ground me anymore." Enjolras laughed, her cheeks turning pink.

"How'd that work out for you at home?" Grantaire remarked.

"Not well. They were quite cross with me for a long time." She chuckled. "Daddy never got the business heir he wanted in me."

"I would imagine so." He stated.

"No, but they did listen to me when they calmed down. I did have good arguments and some of their underlings were cutting costs for bad reasons so we compromised. I did tell you all I was working with them." She reminded.

"Yeah, you did. You didn't tell us you were working with your parents!" He countered.

"It wasn't necessary!" She defended.

"Does Combeferre know they work here?" He asked.

"No. Well, sort of. He knows they work here but I think he assumes they're lower level employees instead of the CFO and the Operations Manager." She responded.

"You mean to tell me that your dad has the second-highest position in this company? And your mom controls everything else?" He inquired, incredulous.

"No. They work together mostly. AXA has like three operations managers. Mom only handles the financial stuff." She nit-picked.

The door to the sidewalk opened and Reginald announced, "I do believe I'm here to save you, Miss Julia. Your parents will be here momentarily."

She nodded and got out of the car, him close behind. Her right leg was trembling madly, the sound of her shoe constant like the wings of a hummingbird.

"It's going to be okay. I'm right here with you." He whispered, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

The sound didn't stop but it did slow down.

"Oh Julia!" Came a woman's voice and he saw an older woman run to her and throw her arms around Enjolras.

Her mother was thicker, Enjolras's marble figure nowhere to be found in the broad shoulders and wide hips of maternity, dressed in a striped pantsuit with black flats. Her brown hair was done up in a bun and her face was rounder compared to Enjolras's sharper features. Enjolras's father was close behind. He was broad chested, fit, and at least six feet tall. He had a sharp face, not unlike Enjolras's but while Enjolras's features seemed to be angelic, her father's features had a more diabolical air about them and his bright ginger hair stood out among the crowd. He was dressed in a suit and tie with extremely well-polished shoes. Monsieur Enjolras smiled and hugged Enjolras tightly when her mother released her.

"Such a surprise for you to come home. Do you need anything? How are you feeling? I know you're upset." Her mother rambled quickly, hugging her again.

"I do need something. I need to talk to you. About the funeral." Enjolras pulled back, her face set.

"We're about to go to lunch and I will not talk about such things at the table." Monsieur Enjolras inserted impassively.

"Then after." Enjolras decided, matching his tone.

"Done. Now, tell me about your school." Monsieur Enjolras smiled.

"Now, now, Sebastien, she hasn't introduced us to this handsome young man." Madame Enjolras chided.

"Oh yes. Mom, Dad, this is Grantaire. He's a good friend from school." Enjolras smiled gently.

"Hi." Enjolras's father stuck out his hand and Grantaire immediately shook it, noticing the strength behind the handshake and doing his best to match it. He kissed Madame Enjolras's hand as she offered it.

"Such a gentlemen." Madame Enjolras cooed. "We must have you two out to lunch. Reginald?"

"I've already made the arrangements." Reginald replied.

"Fabulous. Shall we? Our treat." Madame Enjolras smiled brightly.

They entered the Aston Martin and went along their way.

"So, how did you two meet? You're the first friend she's brought home since going off to university." Monsieur Enjolras asked.

"Well, about that-" Enjolras started. He knew what she was talking about. He had met her before she met him. Or rather, before she remembered going off on him.

"I was just coming from my Gen Ed Anthropology class and I overheard her making a speech for the Les Amis. It was on having gender neutral bathrooms, if I remember correctly. I listened to her and agreed with her and when she offered the audience to come to a meeting of the Les Amis the next day, I decided to show up and stayed for the free food." Grantaire finished.

Enjolras groaned. "You said you stayed because you liked my speeches!"

"I did. The first time I stayed for the food. I always take people up on free food. And it was free Italian. I hadn't had Italian for a month." He defended.

Her parents laughed lightly.

"So if I stopped bringing free food to the meetings, you'd leave?" Enjolras pouted.

"Of course not. Courfeyrac would take me out drinking afterwards." Grantaire winked.

The light laughter increased.

She turned away from him, sulking.

"Don't be that way, Enjy." He chastised playfully.

"Don't call me Enjy." She growled.

"Has she always been this way?" Grantaire asked her parents.

"Oh yes. Julia has never been fond of nicknames." Madame Enjolras answered.

"Except from Jack Wimberley." Monsieur Enjolras teased.

"We have arrived, sirs and madams." Reginald announced and parked the car.

They got out and someone screamed.

"Oh my God! Julia?!"

Enjolras turned sharply and screamed back. "Marci!"

A woman Enjolras's age embraced her and they kissed each other's cheeks.

"It's so good to see you!" Marci squealed.

"It's good to see you. How's the nail salon business I want to say?" Enjolras asked in a voice that didn't seem to be coming from Enjolras at all.

"Yeah that's me. And it's great. I've gotten a steady stream of customers in Everton and the branch in Doncaster just opened but it's doing really well compared to others of its kind." Marci answered.

"Well, I'd love to chat but my parents and I have reservations at one forty five and I simply cannot be late." Enjolras excused, using that voice again. Though it sort of sounded like her, it was as if someone else was speaking.

"I completely understand! Text me!" _Especially about him!_ Marci mouthed before giving Enjolras another kiss and going where she originally meant to go. "Goodbye my darling!"

"Isn't that the one who threw the slushie in your face?" Monsieur inquired as they entered the extremely fancy restaurant. He didn't think he'd ever been in a restaurant this fancy. Or expensive. Even the napkins seemed expensive.

"No that's the other one. Heather. She accused me of trying to steal her boyfriend. No Marci was my opposite in Kiss Me Kate." Enjolras replied.

"That reminds me. Tell me everything about her days in musical theater since she has barely glossed over it in our conversations." Suddenly, someone's heel was digging into his foot. "Your foot on mine will not dissuade my curiosity."

The heel went in sharper but Madame Enjolras pursed her lips at Enjolras which thankfully relieved the pressure. "Now, now, Julia, stop it. One of the many jobs that parents have is embarrassing their children. And you were wonderful in theater."

"She was the star of every show she was in. She's always had wonderful presence on stage." Monsieur Enjolras praised.

Enjolras blushed.

"I believe that. I've seen her command a room simply by walking into it." Grantaire smirked.

Enjolras blushed deeper. "Stop please."

"All right, because if you turn any redder, they're going to have to put you on the wine list." Grantaire teased.

Everyone laughed.

"Speaking of the wine list, is there any wine you prefer, Grantaire?" Monsieur Enjolras asked.

"Malbec is a personal favorite. Pinot Nior is wonderful as well though." Grantaire answered.

"Malbec, a man after my own heart. And its Julia's favorite as well." Monsieur Enjolras said.

That surprised him. In his memory, Enjolras had never willingly drunk a drop of alcohol in her life. The only time he remembered her drinking was when he gave her hard lemonade. And she didn't know she was drinking. He made a mental note to ask about that later. A waiter dressed in such formal clothes approached, Grantaire almost thought that he was another guest due to his attire, and took their orders of food and wine.

The rest of lunch passed in good spirits. The food was delicious, but the portions were terribly small compared to other restaurants. He never understood why fancy restaurants always made such small food for such inflated prices. The wine was some of the best wine he'd ever tasted, he could never afford something so refined and what made it taste all the better was that Enjolras sipped it. She poured herself a very small glass compared to everyone else's on the table but she did drink the wine and that was a miracle altogether. He learned that Enjolras was almost valedictorian in high school and was beaten out by some 'distasteful' boy on a scholarship. Enjolras chided them for being biased and that he had the better speech and the better grades. Monsieur Enjolras had just sniffed and muttered under his breath. He also learned that for her physical education was cheerleading of all things. He would have thought that Enjolras would have exploded from the short skirts and the degradation of males in the field as well as the obvious exploitation of female bodies. But Enjolras said nothing about that. Maybe her school wasn't as bad as most others. The most confusing thing out of the whole meal was the name Jack Wimberley. It kept getting repeated but Enjolras always shushed her parents when it was mentioned and Grantaire didn't have the courage to ask. Enjolras's glare was deadly and he was having a good time. He saw why Enjolras always spoke highly of her parents. They were very nice people.

Once lunch was finished, and Monsieur Enjolras refused to hear any protest from him when it came to paying (thank God, Grantaire did _not_ have the money for that), Monsieur Enjolras said, "This was lovely, my dear, but I'm afraid we must get back to work. Somebody's gotta bring home the bacon."

"Daddy, I didn't take a six-hour train ride to go to lunch. We discussed this already." Enjolras said sharply.

Monsieur Enjolras tried for a smile but failed. "I was hoping you'd forgotten."

"When do I ever forget anything, Daddy?" Enjolras asked.

"Um, breakfast yesterday, getting enough sleep, making sure you don't get sick again, should I go on?" Grantaire added, eliciting a laugh from her parents and a glare from Enjolras.

"You made me a deal." Enjolras pressed.

"I did. And, as always, you are allowed to hold me to it. But let's discuss this back at the office. There are too many people here." Monsieur Enjolras offered.

"That I can do." Enjolras said as Reginald pulled up in the Aston Martin.

"Grantaire! I remember where I've heard that name before!" Madame Enjolras suddenly screamed.

Everyone turned to look at her.

"When have I mentioned his name Mother?" Enjolras asked, her voice sounded almost frightened but Enjolras was never afraid.

"This was the boy who got you out of that dreadful jail cell. We called after that rally of yours" She made the rally sound very 'distasteful' "Got out of hand with that awful man and the gun. And you said that your friend Grantaire got you out of jail, especially due to that you have done nothing wrong and that you were bleeding. Thankfully, Combeferre called after you were treated."

"You told them about me? Aw, Enjy, how cute." Grantaire teased.

Enjolras gave him a good punch to the arm.

"Julia, that's not ladylike." Madame Enjolras reminded her.

"Yeah well Grantaire is no gentleman." Enjolras shot back.

"I'm wounded." Grantaire protested.

"Since we never got the chance to say so before, thank you for helping her." Madame Enjolras said genuinely, making Grantaire squirm. He wasn't used to such emotion from older people.

"I'd do it for any of our friends." He said at last.

"Good man. It's always good to have someone very loyal on your side." Monsieur Enjolras approved.

The car stopped as they arrived back to the building they had been at before. _Saved by the bell_, Grantaire thought. As they walked into the building, Grantaire's hand was suddenly entered into a death grip and he said nothing to Enjolras about the pain. There was a big reason for her to be nervous and he knew that. He would give her what little comfort he could in the little time he had. The elevator ride was silent and since Enjolras and Grantaire had entered the elevator first, he hugged her tightly before letting go almost immediately. Though, she did stand a little taller almost and the death grip eased to mortal torture with a tiny bit of circulation coming back to his hand. When the doors opened, she let go and easily matched her father's strong pace as they entered his office. Which was breathtaking. Brilliants pieces of art hung proudly on the wall, even a fantastic Edward Hopper piece that he would love to study, furniture that seemed to sparkle with polish, extremely sophisticated computer systems, and a glass wall that gave a gorgeous view of the city. This was the high-end of the high-end. He didn't think he'd ever been on an office this nice. And he knew he probably never would be again.

Enjolras steeled herself and he could see her preparing herself for the speech.

"Perhaps your friend should leave." Monsieur Enjolras suggested, but it was really more of an order.

"Grantaire, don't move. You're not leaving. I brought him along for a reason, Father. He's staying." Enjolras stated.

"Now, Julia, I know you're upset-"

"Dad, why are you so against me going to the funeral for Larmarque? He's my favorite teacher-"

"I said it will interfere with your studies and I-"

"The funeral is Friday and I have no classes on Friday-"

"I said no!"

"Why?! Why did you say no? Larmarque did everything for me! He showed me a world you kept hidden from me! He introduced me to literature, beautiful literature that I would never have seen if you had your way! He showed me what it truly meant to question your government, instead of simply knowing all the loopholes in the law. He always made sure that I was okay and making friends and becoming a stronger person. He learned to read me so I could communicate fully in his class. His support in the Les Amis meant so much and he was the one who secured each of my platforms in the early days so I could do my speeches! I couldn't have become what I am today without him! So why? Why can't I pay my respects to the greatest teacher I've ever had?" Enjolras shouted, and if Grantaire didn't know better, she'd burst into angry tears but as he did know her she was far from crying.

Monsieur Enjolras sighed. "Julia, I know. You've told us so much about him but I doubt many students your age will be going to this funeral and I will not have you disgrace our family by speaking of this relationship!"

"You're not making any sense! What relationship? Yes, he and I were very close and his wife was a wonderful woman-"

"Julia! There is no need to bring your relationship to his wife! She doesn't need to know!" Madame Enjolras shouted, though her voice wasn't all that loud. _Talk about an oxymoron_, Grantaire thought.

"She's known me since he first brought me home! She used to cook while he and I were studying so we wouldn't forget to eat because we were really busy with work!" Enjolras protested.

Madame Enjolras huffed, disapproving greatly of her daughter's actions to the absolute bewilderment of her daughter.

"She knew of such actions and allowed them to continue." Madame Enjolras whispered.

"Oh shut up Mom." Enjolras spat.

"Don't talk to your mother that way." Monsieur Enjolras snapped.

"I am twenty-three years old and I am allowed to make my own mistakes!" Enjolras shouted, her voice strong.

"I will not tolerate such things in my family! I'll not have you cause a scandal like that!" Monsieur Enjolras matched her.

"What scandal? I am going to a personal friend's funeral! It's not the first time! You were there for that one! What scandal could possibly happen?" Enjolras screamed.

"Julia-"

"They think you were sleeping with him." Grantaire realized, unaware he was speaking aloud.

The entire room went silent.

"What?" Enjolras asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's talking about the scandal of a young woman who's had an affair with an elderly teacher who got especially good grades in his class going to the funeral when she knows the wife is going." Grantaire said slowly, watching as Enjolras turned a deep shade of red. But he knew her well enough to know it wasn't embarrassment. That was pure, unbridled anger.

"How dare you?" Enjolras's voice was low and instilled a type of fear in Grantaire he had only seen once and was satisfied with never seeing again. "He was a great man and a great teacher. How dare you defile his memory in such a way?"

"Julia-"

"Enough. He was just as much my father as you were and you think I was sleeping with him?" Enjolras accused with deadly precision.

Her parents shared a look of unhappiness mingled with confusion.

"The way you spoke of him, of your relationship." Monsieur Enjolras started. "You constantly spoke of going to his house, him showing you new things, broadening your horizons, and you never mentioned his wife to us."

"It was the way you spoke of Jack. It was exactly the way you spoke of Jack." Madame Enjolras finished.

"Do not mention that name to me." Enjolras growled lowly, like a predator about to strike. Suddenly, she calmed herself down and spoke gently. "Now, I'm going to the funeral. It would be best if you didn't join me. Grantaire and I leave on the six forty-seven train. If it's possible, I would love to have dinner with you so the last words I say to you here are not in anger. I'm going to walk over to Afic and have some coffee. Unless, of course, I'm no longer welcome in this family."

"Never, darling." Monsieur Enjolras answered, looking quite tiny. Grantaire was almost breathless after watching two superpowers go into battle and have his beautiful Apollo come out on top. He always knew she was powerful but to shout down her own father who had taught her these things was incredible.

Enjolras went to the door, Grantaire close behind. She stopped, and turned back. "I won't ever understand why you thought what you did and I will always hate that you put a scandal above your own daughter. But I do still love you both."

Then head held high and a confident stride, she left the office. Grantaire followed her after a squeak of an extremely awkward goodbye to Enjolras's parents who looked ashamed of themselves. He said nothing to her as she said nothing to him until they were out of the building.

"Oh good Lord!" She pulled herself into an alley she seemed to know behind the skyscraper, leaning against the wall.

"You okay?" He asked uncertainly.

"I'm not sure. I've never done that before." She admitted breathlessly. She pulled back her dress slightly and grabbed the infamous black ribbon she always wore which had been wrapped around her bra strap. She tugged it loose and tied her hair up in a bow. Having the ribbon seemed to calm her slightly. "Much better. I hate having my hair down."

He nodded, unsure of what to say next.

"You know what? I'm great. I'm fantastic! I feel like I can do anything. If you want, I can fly." She grinned broadly.

"Okay, Buttercup-" He laughed.

Seeing Enjolras on an adrenaline high was something else. Suddenly, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Absolutely stunned, his mind went blank. But his experience acted for him and kissed her back before he realized what he was doing. But when she deepened the kiss, the cogs in his mind started moving again (as did other parts of his body) and he brought her body closer to his. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair and his hands trailed down her back, cupping her ass tightly. Her lips detached from his and started trailing up his jaw. He whimpered at the sensation and his hands very quickly went back up and found her firm yet supple breasts, though there was something else in her bra. As she started to suck and bite down his neck, she started undoing the buttons of Combeferre's shirt.

Combeferre's shirt.

Not his own.

The dress shirt she made him wear to meet her parents.

Who were in the building in front of them.

In front because they were in an alley.

They were making out in an alley.

And it was quickly progressing to more.

"No, Enjolras, I can't do this." As much as he hated it, he pulled away from her. When she looked slightly horrified, he realized she must have thought she was taking advantage of him, "I can't have sex with you in the alley behind your parent's work."

That relaxed her posture and she gathered herself up. "Of course. My apologies."

"It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it. But here and now is definitely not right. Maybe later?" His joke fell flat as Enjolras turned from him.

"I really am sorry, Grantaire. I don't mean to keep pulling you into this. Whatever this is." She muttered.

"Hey, I kissed you back, remember that. I certainly do." He tried again and this time he elicited a small smile.

"No, you're right. I shouldn't be having a make-out session with you just after my first big fight with my parents." She sighed.

"Wait, you really meant you've never done that before? You've _never_ fought with your parents before?" He pressed.

"No of course I've fought with my parents before! About everything. Bedtime, internet, clothes, manners, all that normal stuff. But I've never fought with them like this before. Not something this big. It's never come up before!" She explained.

"How could it never come up before?" He insisted.

"My parents and I have opposing views, yes, but we never fight about them! We calmly discuss them and if we get too heated we step out of the room until we're calm again. It's the rule of the family." She clarified.

"Then where do you get your passion?" He asked.

"We didn't use to differ as much as we did now. I wasn't as politically aware as I am now and I was content to be that way. But when we agreed on something, we could get really fired up. Daddy used to have long, passionate rants at the dinner table while Mom laughed and I listened. I got my passion from him." She described.

"Makes sense." He mused.

"Here, let's go to Afic. It's only a few blocks away." She tried, and he nodded

"What is Afic?" He asked.

It's a bookstore café. When I didn't have school but Mom and Dad had to work, I'd go there to work on my homework and when I finished I'd buy a book and read for the rest of the day. I can buy you coffee since I'm not cut off." She led him down a few streets until they reached a three story building with beautiful windows and that new book smell.

"It's big." He murmured.

"The third floor is the coffee shop. It makes good sandwiches if you're hungry." She said. "So what do you think?"

"It's a nice store. Very book-y." He said, rather stupidly in his opinion.

"No, of all of here. My parents' office, Descartes." She expounded.

"It's great. Very rich. _Very_ rich." He muttered.

She tensed slightly.

"I knew it! You were actually worried of _I'd_ think of your home!" He exclaimed.

"My home is at school." She corrected.

"You're hometown then. It's not like you and I are that-"

"Well obviously our relationship has changed." She interrupted. "It's changed a lot."

"As terrified as I am to say this, I really think we need to talk. We need to figure out whatever it is we're doing, if only to know what we're doing." He sighed. Thankfully his voice wasn't shaking though all of his inner self was quivering with fear.

"I knew you'd say that." She muttered as she showed him the escalators.

"How? I didn't know I was going to say that until I said it." He asked, then gasped. "Do you have ESP? Telepathy? Have I been consorting with a mutant? Or a meta-human?"

She laughed lightly. "No. I just guessed after that little stunt I pulled in the alley."

"Well, it's just that you're not yourself. You haven't been this whole time. Or at least what I know as you." He said as they got in line for coffee.

As it was a relatively fast line, she didn't answer until they both had coffee (paid with her credit cards which were tucked into her phone case which magically appeared from her bra so that's what that was) and were in a secluded booth.

"So what is me as myself?" She asked.

"Well for one you don't make-out with me. Two, you don't wear dresses. Three, you don't style your hair or wear make-up or squeal. There's more but I'm gonna stop there." Grantaire started.

"I'll admit I have never done these things in the past around the Les Amis. But being here is… different." She replied.

"Why? Because your parents are here? Old friends? What?" He pressed.

"I was a different person before I went to university. I acted different, I had very different ideas, I had expectations of me. Before my senior year, I wanted to be a high school history teacher. I dressed like this every day, even though I didn't really enjoy it, I still used Facebook and I hated doing my homework!" She hissed, contradicting every single thing she was now, leaving him stupefied.

"And that's how these people know you?" He asked.

"Yes. Grantaire, I'm the daughter of some of the highest employees in one of the biggest companies in the world. This is how they know me. This is how I act whenever I'm home. It's why I don't want anyone to come home with me for holidays or summer." She clarified.

"You're leading a double life woman!" He cried.

"Yes I am. I want to keep my home and familial life separate. Is that really such a crime?" She pleaded.

He sighed. "No. It's just… unexpected. I didn't expect to hear about musicals and slushies' in faces or this Jack Wimberley kid-"

"Don't say his name like that!" She shrieked, making him jump back in surprise. Her voice was quiet the next time she spoke. "Please don't say his name like that."

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

They stayed quiet for a long time, merely sipping the slightly cold coffee.

"I'd rather you not ask about him right now." She said eventually.

"I can do that. I understand you have secrets." He had some himself. "But I do have to ask, what are we? I mean in terms of us both being on the same page with each other. Like, are we in a relationship or are we friends with benefits? Or do you wanna forget this ever happened?"

"I told you already I don't regret what happened. As I've said before, yes, we both made a few bad judgment calls but I refuse to regret it. I enjoyed it and I'm pretty sure you did to." At his nod, she continued, "So I see no reason to forget it. I also refuse to be a 'fuckbuddy'. I am not someone you can come crawling to when you're horny."

"I had no intention of that. Don't judge friends with benefits on Courfeyrac. He's not a good example. What it actually means is that when we're both down to have sex, we do. And it doesn't mean anything really. We stay just being friends. It's just sex. Nothing more." He explained.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I don't believe sex is meaningless in any situation." She smiled a bit.

"Well, I can see where you get that." He teased, keeping the smile on for a little longer. "Look, I'll do whatever you want so just name it. We'll do it."

"That's not very healthy for you." She said.

"Ignore that. What you need to do is what's best for you. I can manage. Forgive the corniness, but what does your heart tell you? I've found listening to your heart often leads to the best decisions." He replied quickly.

"I don't know." She admitted. "I genuinely don't know. I know that everything you've done for me is beyond what I ever could've expected from you, but I also know that you and I fight. A lot. And that's not good for both of us."

"Yeah, I suppose." He interjected, knowing she had to think this out.

"But I really do enjoy spending time with you and my parents actually seem to like you, though I know they don't know most of the real you. You drink a lot and I hate that because you're not the best you could be when you're drunk and it drives me up the wall but there are nights when you hardly drink at all and you're a brilliant conversationalist. Maybe you're cynical but you have thoughts that I hadn't thought of and that's always great for keeping an open mind. And you're very cynical when you're drunk. Not pleasant by the way. But you still show up to every meeting and rally you can and you're dirt poor and I've seen you give more help to Eponine than rich oblivious Marius. And yes, I know I miss a lot of things, but Marius is the very definition of obliviousness. I know the others say you love me-"

"What?!" His stomach dropped to the first floor of the building. They were supposed to keep it secret from her! She was never supposed to know!

"I know, that stupid bet is absurd." She agreed, completely missing his fear.

"What bet?" He asked tersely.

"Last semester, I heard Courfeyrac and Bahorel talking about a bet when we'd finally, and I quote 'get our shit together and fuck already'. It was repulsive. I wanted to slap them upside the head but then Joly got my attention and by the time I remembered it later that night they had already left. Then I forgot about it for a bit. I… take it this was the first time you've heard about it." She hesitated.

"Yeah. I can't believe that they would do something like that!" He couldn't believe his own friends would betray him like that. He always thought he could keep his feelings under the radar until the inevitable time when Enjolras kicked him out of the Amis for doing something stupid.

"I would never kick you out of the Amis, no matter how stupid you acted." She said.

Fuck.

"How much of that did I say aloud?" He asked, fear rushing through his veins.

"Um, you said something about radar and the inevitable time I kicked you out for being a jackass. Unless you suddenly turned misogynistic, homophobic or racist there's no reason for me to expel you." She said, confusedly.

"I suppose I was just thinking aloud." He murmured.

She thought for a minute and her facial expression turned dejected. "I really do like you Grantaire. I really do. But I don't- I can't- I'm not sure how to say this."

"You're not ready for a relationship I get that." As he spoke, her shoulders slumped in relief. His heart hurt to say it but seeing her relief made it worth it.

"I'm not very experienced in this area, R, I'm not sure what to do now." She confessed.

"Here. Why don't I take you out to dinner after I get paid on Friday? We'll finally hit the first step in a relationship and we can see where it goes from there." He offered.

She cocked her head to the side.

"We've sort of done this backwards. First, you go on dates, then you meet the parental units, and then you have sex. That's how society portrays most healthy relationships." He explained.

"Ah. Yes." She said. Then stopped.

"Yes what?" He inquired.

"Dinner on Friday. But I'm afraid I must insist on paying, Monsieur Art-Students-Salary." She responded, grinning cheekily.

"But that's not gentlemanly. And, contrary to prior statements, I am quite the gentleman." He smirked.

"Gentlemanly." She scoffed. "What is that but the patriarchal definitions of toxic masculinity and the devaluation of women? Besides, I thought you never passed up on free food."

"Well, if it's to fight the patriarchy, I suppose I can bend just this once." He winked.

She actually threw her head back and laughed. He smiled harder than he remembered doing in the last few months. He couldn't believe it.

Her phone rang from inside her dress, cutting her laughter short. He wanted to destroy the damn machine.

"Hello… yeah sure, we'll be right down." She replaced the phone. "Jeeves is here. Come on."

He followed her to the elevator, trying to keep his bubbling excitement under control. He was actually going on a date with Enjolras. His Enjolras. Apollo. How Dionysius had snagged a date with Apollo was beyond his comprehension.

Reginald was waiting for them, took one look at his shirt and shook his head. Grantaire looked down and saw the beginnings of a hickey and quickly buttoned his shirt to cover it. Enjolras blushed and wordlessly got into the car. He followed. Thankfully, her parents weren't in the car, so at they were spared some embarrassment.

The ride back was quiet and short. He resisted the urge to hold her hand. There would be time for that later. And boy did that excite him.

She didn't bother getting out of the car to greet her parents this time. They simply climbed in and buckled.

"Four thirty is a bit early to be leaving the office." Monsieur Enjolras muttered under his breath.

"Must be a holiday." Enjolras teased.

"Hush, Julia. I would never go into work again if it meant seeing you again." Monsieur Enjolras exaggerated.

Enjolras blushed again.

"I swear I don't know what it is you're doing but you have to teach me." Grantaire added and the car laughed.

"This will be a long ride, Grantaire. Our house is a half an hour ride from work. We live in the 'country'." Enjolras frowned.

She was right, in a way. It was a long ride. For Enjolras. Grantaire asked whatever questions he could while he had her parents' right here. What was Enjolras like in primary school? What were her friends like? How good of a cheerleader was she? On multiple occasions, Enjolras called out to Reginald, "Jeeves, just crash the car. I can't take any more of this. Kill me now." To which Monsieur Enjolras replied after the fourth time, "Julia, you act as if you would not take advantage of Grantaire's parents in such a way." Grantaire shut up after that. Her parents' noticed, they'd have to lose their senses to not, and steered the conversation to their day at work. That Enjolras listened to with interest. Grantaire lost track of what they were saying and nodded when Enjolras did.

Enjolras didn't have a house. Enjolras had a fucking _mansion_. Three stories, balconies, enormous front yard and garden, and that was just what he could see.

"Wow." He breathed and didn't take his eyes off the landscape until Enjolras called him into dinner. He backtracked and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He snapped a couple pictures for his landscape project that was coming next month. Her mansion was good inspiration. Then he came inside.

If he thought outside was beautiful. High ceilings with chandeliers he knew were older than him, archways with hand-crafted molding, rugs that must have cost more than his life was worth and an Andy Warhol.

"You have an Andy Warhol." He whispered, in completely shock.

"Yep. Nearly cost me forty mill but it was worth every cent." Monsieur Enjolras said proudly.

"Forty million." Grantaire repeated, dumbstruck.

"Come, sirs. Dinner is ready." Reginald interrupted and the smell of food brought Grantaire away from the artwork.

But before they could all sit down, Enjolras's phone buzzed.

"No texting at the table." Madame Enjolras reminded.

"Dad, turn on the TV." Enjolras responded.

Sensing his daughter's tone, Monsieur Enjolras as she asked. A news story was on about how the train station vents were smoking and the station had been evacuated and the trains canceled til further notice.

"Shit." Enjolras cursed.

"Julia, that's not ladylike. Watch your language." Madame Enjolras corrected.

"Momma. What am I supposed to say? Yea, now I cannot return to campus." She faked being excited before rolling her eyes.

"Miss Julia, I could take you back to university." Reginald offered.

"That's a ten hour drive, Jeeves. No." Enjolras sighed.

"I'm confused. What's going on?" Grantaire asked, feeling self-conscious.

"It means we're stuck here until the trains resume." Enjolras sighed. "Which will not be any time tonight."

* * *

**Hello all! I'm so sorry for not updating sooner, but I can only write when I'm at school so all of winter break I had to go without. And in college, winter break is five weeks. A bit scary, I suppose. But I kept with tradition and stayed up until five in the morning trying to finish this chapter. I was going to post it then but then I fell asleep. So, here you go now.**

**Leave a review if you can. It inspires me to write faster and I love your comments. Goodbye, everyone and see you all on the other side.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Don't worry. You and your friend can spend the night. We won't make you go get a hotel or anything." Madame Enjolras smiled.

"Thanks, Mom." Enjolras muttered, still glaring at the TV screen as if her intense glare could change the events playing on it.

"Come to the table, Julia. There's nothing you can do here." Monsieur Enjolras called and Enjolras huffed before plopping down in her chair, frowning intensely.

"So, Grantaire, what is it you do?" Madame Enjolras asked sweetly, as if genuinely interested. Hell, after what Enjolras said she might be.

"This might sound a bit stupid but I work in a deli. It's a tiny little Mom and Pop shop but it's popular enough and I keep busy there." Grantaire shrugged, trying to avoid the fact that he was studying art.

"Oh no. Small business is a wonderful thing. It's always good to be a part of that. When our company first started, we were very small. Now look at us." Monsieur Enjolras praised.

"I'm sure, sir." Grantaire followed, unsure of what else to say.

"Daddy, not at the table." Enjolras said testily.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to bring work to the table." Monsieur Enjolras apologized.

"Mom, don't you have that charity event coming up?" Enjolras asked, probably trying to get the subject off of Grantaire.

"Of course. This year it's for Building with Books, or buildOn as it's come to be known. We're having the dance first, then the food and while we're eating, we've asked the CEO to come and speak. He was delighted." Madame Enjolras replied happily.

Enjolras wore a strange smile. "You chose buildOn for your charity gala this year?"

"Oh I didn't do it alone. Of course, I put it to the Christian Fellowship Ladies but they agreed with me. It's a wonderful cause." Madame Enjolras answered.

Grantaire just stared at Enjolras in confusion while she smiled brightly.

"I'm just surprised you were listening to me." Enjolras said, incredulous.

"Darling, I do tend to listen to you when you speak to me. It's rude not to." Madame Enjolras huffed, as if she couldn't believe her daughter's words.

"This is the first time you've chosen a charity I've told you about." Enjolras explained.

"This is the first charity you told us about." Madame Enjolras shrugged.

"Now, wait-" Enjolras started.

"What your mother means is this is the only charity you've told us about that hasn't been detrimental. Susan G Komen is apparently horrible, and Autism Speaks is also awful. So when you mention something and it's not about how horrible it is, then we do tend to listen a bit more. After all, 'a good word will spread in the grapevine, bringing forth clusters of grapes and the benevolent of wine; a bad word will spread withering the vines, and choke the potential grapes'." Monsieur Enjolras quoted.

"Without knowing the force of words, it is impossible to know more." Enjolras responded beautifully.

Monsieur Enjolras smiled. "Your grandfather would be proud you inherited his wit."

"I did no such thing." Enjolras snapped, a bit too quickly.

"Which grandfather?" Grantaire asked, definitely curious. Enjolras never spoke of grandparents.

"I'm surprised you don't know him, Grantaire. Julien Enjolras, the Senator. Julia's namesake." Monsieur Enjolras answered, and Enjolras gulped.

"What happened to 'I'm not related to him I want nothing to do with him'?" Grantaire asked Enjolras who was quickly turning pink.

"I don't like being related to him. He favored reforms to all but strip women of bodily autonomy, and he voted against a bill to legalize sex from two consenting adult males. I do want nothing to do with his name." Enjolras said haughtily.

"We will have words about that after dinner, Julia." Monsieur Enjolras hissed.

Grantaire's stomach dropped. How had he already gotten her into trouble? It was a simple question. How in the hell did he fuck it up?

"We will do no such thing. You hate being related to Aunt Isabel. Same thing." Enjolras shot.

"You hate being related to my sister?" Madame Enjolras cried indignantly.

"No! She's a lovely lady, but you must admit she is on the bit odd side." Monsieur Enjolras bluffed out.

Grantaire looked to Enjolras for answers, and she leaned over to him.

"She went into archeology in college. Dad finds that 'very impractical' and a little beneath us." Enjolras whispered.

"She is not on the odd side." Madame Enjolras growled.

Deciding to save what was left of the conversation, Grantaire interjected, "So are there any football teams that you really like sir? I know Toulouse FC have been really strong this year."

"I'm afraid I prefer FC Metz. They're going to have a match soon, I believe." Monsieur Enjolras said, almost immediately looking very relieved.

"Yes, sir. In about three weeks." Grantaire supplied.

"Shall we make a wager on the match?" Monsieur Enjolras smiled but even the smile seemed to ooze competitiveness.

"Daddy, you're not allowed to make your stupid sports bets with my friends." Enjolras protested, thankfully saving him from an awkward excuse as he couldn't afford any bet that Monsieur Enjolras would offer.

"I don't see why." Monsieur Enjolras disputed.

"Oh really? A bet of twenty dollars to a boy you will not see for at the very least a _very_ long time? That's worth it to you?" Enjolras asked bluntly.

"Excuse me, but I can solve this. I don't bet. At all." Grantaire interrupted.

Enjolras looked smug.

"Well, that is very noble, Grantaire." Madame Enjolras said as she shot a look at her husband.

"Thank you ma'am." Grantaire blushed slightly.

"All right, enough about us. That's all we've done today. What about you, Grantaire? What do you study? A lawyer, like Julia?" Monsieur Enjolras said, probably trying to shift the attention off of him.

Knowing he was going to make things worse, but knowing Enjolras said lying was a bad thing, he decided to go with the truth.

"I'm an art student. I'm an artist." Grantaire said.

Silence.

"Artist?" Monsieur Enjolras smiled, but it was strained.

"Dad, he's brilliant. I've seen some of his work. It's incredible." Enjolras interjected.

_You've seen a sketch._ Grantaire thought to himself. That wasn't an accurate judge.

"Have you ever been paid for one of these paintings?" Monsieur Enjolras asked condescendingly.

"Several. That's how I got my scholarship. I won a local art contest and a scout was there. He helped set me up with a gallery in town and I've been selling them the art I don't use for class. And some I do." Grantaire answered coolly.

_That_ seemed to impress them.

"I've been to one of his shows. It's incredible." Enjolras added.

He didn't know Enjolras had ever gone to any of his shows. He didn't think she'd cared. "Which show?"

"The one with the Grecian religious stuff and the beautiful picture of the Amis laughing together. But, I didn't know you did photography too." Enjolras answered.

"That's because it wasn't a photograph. It took me about three weeks to sketch that." Grantaire responded, blushing slightly.

Enjolras stared at him. "That wasn't a picture?"

Grantaire shook his head.

Enjolras looked extremely surprised. And a bit impressed.

Now he knew she was just saying this to impress her parents but the look of surprise made the lies worth it. And she looked really cute when surprised.

"Grecian religious stuff?" Madame Enjolras asked.

"We were studying the classical period of ancient Greek and I got a bit inspired." He deliberately left out it was Enjolras who inspired him. Enjolras, the very definition of a Greek God with the beauty of Aphrodite and the brains of Athena.

Monsieur Enjolras nodded and he could tell that at least for the night, he wouldn't get anything. To his face, anyway.

"Do you have any school events coming up, dear?" Madame Enjolras asked, trying to change the subject.

"We have the 'White Shirt' event coming up in two Wednesdays. Basically, we've ordered about fifteen hundred blank white t-shirts and we're going to hand them out from eleven to two, and we're going to ask people to write their biggest fear, secret or insecurity about themselves. Could be their body, their mental health, their family, whatever makes them ashamed. Or at least whatever they feel comfortable sharing. Then we're going to wear the shirts for the rest of the day and be proud of our flaws. It's about being proud of who you are, of everything you are, flaws and all." Enjolras answered, seemingly relieved to not be talking about Grantaire.

"Fifteen hundred? How did you afford that?" Monsieur Enjolras asked.

"The school paid for most of it. Blank t-shirts are about two bucks a piece, shipping was free since the order was so big and we have a monthly budget that the school gives us so we can put on our events. Don't worry, I didn't break the bank. Besides, it's not we couldn't pay for it." Enjolras explained.

"Oh no, I was only thinking that we've only sent you down about one thousand dollars this past month and we don't want you starving because you want to finance an event." Monsieur Enjolras clarified.

"We have the small and mediums already, don't we?" Grantaire asked. Actually, he didn't care about how many shirts had already arrived but it was good to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah. The large should show up today and the extra-large should show up tomorrow. Madame Huchloup is letting us keep them in her broom closet at the Musain so we don't have to fill up someone's apartment with lots of boxes." Enjolras answered, slightly out of focus. She seemed to be thinking of something else.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Do you think fifteen hundred will be enough? I mean, I know we're a smaller university but a lot of people commute and I don't want to run out." Enjolras mused.

"What if we offered people washable markers if we do? Then the marker would come out and they could still participate." Grantaire offered.

"That means that anybody who does that would have to take off their own shirt to do it." Enjolras shot down.

"We could write it for them, maybe." Grantaire suggested.

"It's a personal thing. You wouldn't ask some stranger to write your biggest fear on your shirt. Maybe it'd just be easier to order more shirts." Enjolras countered.

"Look I'm just trying to help." Grantaire snapped.

"I know but I need to talk this out with Combeferre." She replied.

"Oh. Combeferre." Grantaire snorted under his breath.

"Don't give me that, Grantaire." Enjolras groaned.

"All I did was give you suggestions!" He protested.

"I understand that. Combeferre just helps me focus my logic the best. He always has." She snapped.

"Wonder why _that_ is." He muttered.

"He just knows me the best and always understands exactly what I'm saying unlike you. And _he_ actually has good suggestions." She said.

"Excuse me. I'm afraid I'm not very hungry anymore." Grantaire stood sharply and walked out of the kitchen.

As he had no idea how this house lay before him, he walked back outside by the front of the house. The grounds were extensive, covered in bright green grass and well-tended plants and trees. He took a deep breath, to try and calm down. He knew Enjolras wasn't trying to be mean, she was just blunt. To her, talking it through with Combeferre was different than talking it through with him. He didn't understand why but to Enjolras there must have been a difference. She didn't seem to have a problem earlier today, though. They talked just fine. But he had to remember, this was Enjolras. She was different. Sometimes it was very hard to remember that.

Her cruelty was one of her worst qualities, and yet one of her best. When aimed at one of their friends, they never liked it in her. Aimed at authorities, be they school or police, it made them cheer. Occasionally, he wondered if Enjolras even knew how cruel she could be. If she understood how, especially in the early days, it made him want to drown himself in liquor so he could be spared the echoing reminder of her cruel words in his head.

"Don't mind Julia. Her social graces can be lacking sometimes." Madame Enjolras's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Ma'am, I love her, but that's a huge understatement." Grantaire muttered mutinously.

Madame Enjolras chuckled wryly. "I suppose that's true. But all the people we love have faults."

"I'm sorry for just getting up and leaving. Normally, at the Musain, we have other people to temper us and stop us from killing each other. Alas, we are alone." Grantaire sighed.

"Oh don't be sorry. I'm not sure whether you know this but arguments are forbidden at the table so leaving was the best thing you could do. My husband will calm her down and I agreed to talk to you." Madame Enjolras dismissed.

"Fighting the war on two fronts, huh?" He teased.

"He has the worse battle, I assure you." Madame Enjolras said and they shared a laugh. "Really. Don't mind Julia. She did inherit her grandfather's wit with just as much of her father's business talk."

Grantaire said nothing. The sting of Enjolras's verbal lashes was still fresh on his heart. Madame Enjolras seemed all right with the silence.

Once he calmed himself down, deciding he needed a drink (and he was a little hungry there really wasn't much food at lunch) he offered his arm to Madame Enjolras, she took it and he escorted her back in.

"Such a gentleman. I'm glad Julia brought you home." Madame Enjolras cooed.

_I'll bet she's regretting bringing me along._ He thought bitterly. But as he came into the dining room, Enjolras was laughing her head off.

"Seriously? He actually did that?" Enjolras was asking her father.

"Ah. The best way to calm Julia. Make her laugh." Madame Enjolras whispered in his ear. "And people say distraction doesn't work."

Grantaire smirked.

"Yes he actually did that. It was too bad we didn't get it on video. We could've sent it in to one of those comedy shows, like World's Funniest Moments." Monsieur Enjolras said.

Enjolras just laughed. Madame Enjolras and he rejoined the table and Grantaire cocked an eyebrow.

"My dad's friend's dog." Enjolras explained, her voice soft but her eyes were still rather cross.

Grantaire nodded. "Speaking of dogs, have did Courfeyrac ever show you the spider dog video?"

Enjolras groaned. "Yes. I liked it the first time but after the fourth time, it got a bit old."

"Sorry to interrupt, but dinner is served." Reginald said, carrying in a dinner tray. He put their food in front of them with the grace of years of practice. It looked delicious.

They spent the next hour barely speaking, mostly just eating and making small talk. Enjolras avoided Grantaire if she could, and he knew she was still mad. But he didn't understand why. All he did was give her suggestions! But he knew Enjolras with a grudge was more powerful than hell itself. But at least her parents didn't seem to notice, probably used to dealing with Enjolras.

Dessert and coffee was another thing. Madame Enjolras kept all of them in stitches with a story from her youth about one of her college friends. And once that story was told, they spent the rest of the night regaling stories from each of them. Except Enjolras as she was laughing too hard to actually speak. Finally, Monsieur and Madame Enjolras retired, saying they liked to read before bed and they kissed Enjolras good night. Once they were alone, and Enjolras had finally stopped giggling, they sat down to watch TV for a while. Reginald had gone to bed as well, after doing the dishes and cleaning. The silence between them resonated against Grantaire's ears well into the night. Not talking was driving him insane, but Enjolras didn't look at him so he kept quiet.

"Do we know what's going on with the train?" Grantaire asked, unsure as to whether he was allowed to speak but unable to stand it anymore.

Enjolras shook her head and fetched her dad's laptop. She searched for a minute before sighing.

"Well, we can either take an early train tomorrow or a noon train. Those are the only two that have opened." Enjolras said.

"Well, it's up to you. I don't mind either way." He shrugged.

"Noon is fine. I want to say goodbye to my parents." She said.

"Yeah, they seemed really nice." He smiled.

She snorted. "Trust me, they were beyond on their best behavior. I've never seen them so polite to one of my friends."

"Had many over?" Grantaire asked quietly.

"I suppose as many as societal norms dictated." She shrugged.

He chuckled. "You could just say yes."

She rolled her eyes. They sat in silence for a moment before he decided to speak.

"Enjolras, I didn't mean to make you angry earlier. I was just trying to help." He tried.

"I know. But you didn't have to speak that way about Combeferre." She countered.

"Maybe not. I was a little mad that when I'm right here, Combeferre is the one you think of." He defended.

"Why does it matter that you're right here?" She asked, confused.

"Enjolras, when someone is right there and is a part of your group, usually you ask them and don't tell them that someone else has better suggestions." He stated.

"He does. In my opinion." She added when Grantaire glared at her.

"But you don't say that, whether you believe it or not. It's cruel. And I know you don't understand cruelty-"

"Don't say that. I do understand cruelty." She protested.

"Then act like it when it comes out of your own mouth." He pressed.

She turned away, frowning intensely. "I know what you all say about me."

Grantaire shifted to try and see her face but the way she sat he barely saw her hair covered her expression.

"What do we say?" He whispered, almost fearful. Most of what they said to each other, they'd never say to her face.

"I deal love and cruelty with the same hand. I'm mean, and hurtful, and cruel even. Don't say I don't understand cruelty. I understand it better than you can imagine." She answered wrathfully, turning to him sharply with anger behind her voice. Her eyes were alight with passion and for a moment, he was afraid but his own anger was beginning to bubble over.

"Enjolras, how can you begin understand cruelty? Look at this house. Look at your parent's jobs. You have everything anybody could want. What do you know of cruelty?" He snapped.

"Jack Wimberley." She said lifelessly yet it struck him to the bone.

At his surprised silence, she continued, "I can't believe I'm actually doing this and with you of all people, but Jack Wimberley was my best friend. We met in middle school. Once together, we were inseparable. We planned on going to college together and becoming teachers together. He introduced me to the way of life I live now. He was my first liberal friend. And once we became friends, it wasn't long before we fell in love with each other. We got together the homecoming of junior year. For a long time, he was everything to me. My parents' approved and my friends loved him, though they thought he was a bit of an extremist, and life was good. Life was incredible. He was the one I had sex with. We both agreed that the summer of senior year was the best time for us and it was. We knew what we were doing and we kept it hidden from our parents and that was enough for us. I loved him, as strong as I loved the cause."

She paused for a moment, gathering herself.

"Enjolras, what happened? You broke up or something? He did it really meanly?" He asked, uncertain as to why she was telling him this specific story.

"No. He didn't break up with me. We applied to the same colleges and we were so excited to go off and have our high school sweetheart lives together. Then we hit February. It was very rainy for February, very unusual. We would study together in the library, walk to his place because that's where I parked my car for school since we had no parking whatsoever, and then I'd drive home. I was sick that day. Because of the rain. So I didn't go to school. He still went to the library though. That day, I got a call. No more Jack. He stayed late because I wasn't there and tried walking home when it wasn't as rainy. The fucker who hit him was drunk and driving in the rain. Spun out and Jack was dead. I can hear you all when you say I want to be a lawyer because I want to see the world in print. I want to be a lawyer, because the bastard who killed Jack never even had charges brought against him. The D.A. didn't bother since it was raining and he was a very well-respected man. It wouldn't do to tarnish his reputation. I want to be a lawyer so no one else has to go through that pain."

Silence followed. Grantaire's stomach was in knots, tearing itself up in agony. She wiped her eyes furiously and he knelt in front of her. Once more he wasn't sure whether or not to touch her, and once more his presence seemed to be enough. Her hand gently touched over the back of his and he turned it over and held it tightly. She squeezed back a little before pulling back from him.

"Thanks." She muttered so low he almost didn't catch it.

"How did you deal with it?" He asked, trying to draw her into something not as painful.

"I didn't go to school for a month. I barely got out of bed until April. Once I did, I went over my acceptances and found the school that no one was going to and was a very long way away. I wanted to get out. I wanted to start over. I hated that he wasn't going to be by my side and I never wanted to hear his name again. So I decided to go to a much smaller school that's apparently so disorganized I was assigned to the wrong dorm." She smiled a bit.

He returned the smile. "But hey, that tiny little mistake changed your life for the better, you always say."

"You listen to me when I say that?" She asked.

He nodded. "You're right though."

She cocked her head to the left.

"You said you understood cruelty. Granted, it's not the same type of cruelty that I'm talking about but you were right. You do understand it." He said.

"What type of cruelty are you talking about?" She inquired softly.

"Sometimes you can be so cruel. Verbally cruel. You know better than anyone how powerful words are and yet sometimes you use them as a sword when violence isn't needed. Like tonight. There was no need, not really. I was just trying to help. However, there are plenty of times when it is needed. Like earlier today when you were going off on your parents for the assumptions they made- oh God that all makes sense now." Realization hit Grantaire like a ton of bricks.

"Excuse me?" She tried.

"I think your parents knew that you two were sleeping together. They thought you were sleeping with Larmarque because you talked about him like you talked about Jack. So I can see where they're coming from but I don't agree with it." He added that last part quickly when she started to open her mouth.

"Fantastic. I talk about having a great friend and mentor and they think we're sleeping together." She grumbled.

"I can't help that." He shrugged.

"Remind me to stop telling them things about my personal life." She groaned.

"So what does Combeferre think of this story?" He asked.

"I haven't told him. I haven't told anyone. Except you, obviously." She said, flushing.

"Why tell me? I mean, I know we've had sex but we aren't even dating yet." He said.

"It's this damn house. There's a reason I never take my friends home. I hate living here and I hate that everything reminds me of him. That's why even though I love my parents I hardly ever come back here. He's like graffiti in Sharpie on the bathroom wall. You can ignore it but it never truly goes away."

A memory tugged at his consciousness at her words. _He was the second handwriting in her book_. No wonder she never touched it and erased all the analysis around her. It was probably the only reminder of him she could stomach.

"If you don't mind, Grantaire I think we should go to bed. It's past two." She murmured, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

He just smiled at her and nodded. Talking about emotional secrets was exhausting, he knew that first-hand.

The next morning passed quickly. Thankfully, her parents said nothing on the paint-covered clothes though he could've done without the intensely disdainful glares. Since she obviously had clothes there, she went back dressed in simple jeans with a red belt, fashionable shoes, a white tank top and a (very cool) leather jacket. Her parents seemed to approve which he thought was entirely unfair. Enjolras hugged her parents tightly and had a separate goodbye for Reginald at the train station while Grantaire exchanged their tickets. Once they were settled once more in first class (he still couldn't believe it), he finally said the joke he'd been waiting a day to say.

"When we get back, I'm officially calling you Bruce Wayne."

"Do it and die." Enjolras growled.

He laughed. "Come on! Thankfully, the only part you're missing is the orphan part. You have an English butler whose part of your family, you're beyond rich, instead of being a crime fighter you fight for social justice. It's perfect."

"I am no Batman." She protested.

"Don't care." He retorted.

"Grantaire, I asked you not to tell anyone about my home life!" She reminded him.

"I didn't answer that question." He grinned cheekily. She pouted. "Enjy, I'm teasing. Don't worry. I won't say it around anybody. Except maybe Combeferre."

"Don't call me Enjy." She snapped.

"Oh go read your book." He shot back and got out his Creative mp3 player.

"Why do you carry that old thing? I would've thought you'd upgrade or something." She asked.

"Sentimental reasons." He answered routinely.

"Well, if you were to upgrade, which would you choose? An IPod like Courfeyrac or something else." She tried.

"Enjolras, I get that you want to thank me for doing this, but I really don't need anything. Also, if you're going to buy something, try getting some subtlety lessons." He teased.

She frowned, looking very put out. He chuckled at her.

"What's so funny?" She demanded.

"You. It's so strange to see this side of you. It's a rare thing to witness." He smiled.

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"You usually always get your way. Seeing you not is something I'm definitely not used to." He explained.

She glared at him, though it was obviously missing any real heat behind it.

His mind was not his own for a moment and he swiftly kissed her cheek. Hot embarrassment flooded through him and he found it mirrored in his Apollo. Her cheeks held a pinkish tinge that was blatantly getting deeper. She turned away from him, thankfully, so she couldn't see exactly how his feelings paralleled with hers. He wasn't sure why he had done that. Something possessed him, that was the only explanation for it. His lips tingled after being graced with the contact of such an ethereal beauty and his cheeks burned but he did not regret it. And it was totally worth it. Seeing Enjolras blush was enough.

The train ride was quiet but content. Enjolras read but would occasionally speak to him whenever she felt the need to speak. Enjolras was never good at small talk, but it wasn't too awful. (And if it was, he would never tell her to her face.)

"Thank you, R." She said abruptly when they were about halfway home.

"For what?" He asked, not particularly paying attention.

"Everything. Coming with me, braving my parents, not really drinking very much, and surviving the past few days." She said, and when he turned he saw a genuine smile on her face. Something he so rarely saw he thought it near impossible.

He returned it. "Enjolras, trust me. All of us are ready and willing to do this for you. We all know that if we needed you, you'd try your best to help us."

"But the others aren't here. You are. Before Friday, I never thought you would've even cared about me. I would've just thought you believe in nothing." She pressed.

"I believe in you." He replied quietly.

She looked surprised, smiled and nodded. The silence carried for a couple hours until Grantaire nearly died from fear.

"Combeferre's invited you to dinner. He says he wants to talk to you and that you can't get out of it. I don't know what he means but he seems determined." She relayed.

Grantaire gulped.

For the rest of the train ride, Grantaire's mind whirled. He had made Enjolras happy, maybe she could stop Combeferre from killing him. But Mamma-Ferre was a terrifying sight to behold. Usually, it was directed at Enjolras. Maybe she'd be happy it wasn't her he was lecturing and yelling at. He certainly couldn't count on the others for help. Enjolras's secrets weren't his to divulge. He was so lost in thought, trying to figure out how Combeferre was planning to kill him, he didn't notice that they had reached their stop. Enjolras then drove them to the Musain where everyone was waiting for them. Courfeyrac was the first to rush her and swing her up into a giant bear hug. You could hear Enjolras's muffled, "Put me down" from his chest, but it didn't seem like Courfeyrac cared. Once he did put her down, she glared at him intensely but he just smiled brightly.

"I missed you too." He chirped.

"I've only been gone a few days. You act like I've been gone a year. Now, what have I missed?" Enjolras asked, all business.

"The funeral is scheduled for Friday and according to the dean, a lot of the school has been estimated to attend." Courfeyrac said.

She nodded. "Good. Have we asked Mrs. Larmarque if she wants a public service?"

"I did. She said that any student who wanted to show up was welcome. They don't have any family so seeing that a lot of people cared will mean a lot to her." Combeferre supplied.

"All right. Any news from any of our other projects?" She commanded.

"Yeah. Good news. The shirt company shipped us too many blank tees so we have about twenty-to hundred now." Jehan smiled.

"Oh. Wonderful." Enjolras grinned.

"So, we're all set for the event. We've got the markers and the shirts and the flyers Grantaire made have all been handed out or stapled to the bulletin boards. I figure we're gonna get a lot of people for remembering Larmarque, or at least pity, Enjolras." Courfeyrac said.

"If they're coming for pity, they shouldn't bother showing up." Enjolras muttered hostilely.

"It's how they can express what they feel and try and help us." Grantaire explained, talking for the first time since they arrived. Enjolras seemed to calm down, or at least back off.

"Ah, Grantaire, would you help me in the back?" Combeferre asked, and by his tone Grantaire knew it wasn't a request.

"Sure. Enjolras, go ahead and eat without me. I'm not very hungry right now." Grantaire smiled, trying to hide his fear.

She nodded, completely oblivious. Everyone else knew Grantaire had basically been forced at gunpoint to go with Combeferre but they knew to keep quiet about it. Most likely, they would guess that he was reporting on how well the night with her parents went. As he stepped into the backroom, it was filled with giant boxes he knew to be filled with blank white T-Shirts and they had to shift them around to be able to bring in two chairs.

"Now, first things first, is she okay?" Combeferre asked, his glasses amplifying the worry in his eyes.

"She's okay. And you are not cut off, by the way." He summarized the fight she had with her parents and the subsequent dinner. Combeferre did not say anything the entire time.

"That's good. Did you two talk?" Combeferre inquired once he finished.

"We did. About Friday night. I know you've been waiting with baited breath." He teased but Combeferre only raised an eyebrow and so he continued on in understandable fear. "She and I are good. I know she's already told you, but we do have a date scheduled for next Friday after I get paid because as much as she protests there's no way I'm not paying for something."

"Actually, she hasn't told me anything about that night. I'm glad for you, though. I'm glad that you two have finally come together." Combeferre smiled softly, though there was something in his eyes Grantaire couldn't recognize.

"You okay?" Grantaire asked.

"I'm just processing that _Enjolras_ is actually going on a date. Now _that's_ something unheard of." Combeferre laughed lightly.

For a moment, Grantaire debated telling Combeferre about Jack, obviously not as Enjolras told him, but defeating the rumors once and for all that Enjolras was incapable of love. But once everyone was allowed to know that she and Grantaire were dating, that would disprove the rumor and her past could still be dead. He decided that would be best. If she had wanted Combeferre to know, she would have told him.

"I was as surprised as you are that she actually accepted." He finally decided on saying. Which was true, at least.

Combeferre nodded and then his face steeled. "Now, since she has no immediate family here, and I doubt she told her parents since they didn't really seem to approve of you once you said you were an artist, so this falls upon me."

Grantaire's blood ran cold. He wasn't sure what was coming but he didn't like it. He _really_ didn't like it.

"I swear to God, if you break her heart, I'll stop yours and make it look like an accident." Combeferre growled.

Grantaire slowly shrank in fear. "Yes, sir."

Combeferre then suddenly relaxed. "Though, with you, I doubt you would survive that."

"I drown myself before hurting her." He promised.

"I doubt she would appreciate that. She does hate it when you drink." Combeferre mused.

"I wasn't talking about in drink." Grantaire said soberly.

"Don't say that. You're my friend too, and when you talk like that it's rather disturbing." Combeferre frowned.

Grantaire just looked at him, as if to say _you-were-expecting-anything-else_?

"I do believe if we stay in here longer, they'll be saying we're the ones going out." Combeferre tried to joke.

Grantaire just rolled his eyes and followed the man out. When they returned, Enjolras just cocked her head in confusion.

"Relax. He and I just had to talk since apparently you've been avoiding him." Grantaire muttered.

"I have not. I simply didn't think to text him. I'll talk to him tonight." She protested.

"You do that." He murmured and went to find Courfeyrac. Once he did, he got everyone to crowd around. Since it seemed like people missed him, the crowd gathered pretty quickly.

"Now, I did promise that I would be slightly productive on my trip with dear, dear Enjy and now I present to the entire cast of the Les Amis, here is the picture of Enjolras's family that I snuck." He whipped out his phone, flourished the picture grandly, and allowed it to be passed around. Then he took a glance at Enjolras and she was pale. So he made his way to her.

"I can't believe you would do that." She gasped.

"Hey, hey, calm down. It's nothing more than a picture of you laughing with your parents at lunch. They just want to see what your parents look like and I thought you'd be okay with you guys laughing." He explained.

"All right." Color seemed to return to her face slowly. "Why did they want to see my parents?"

"You've never shown us any pictures or described them to us. We're very curious. I'm going to be the most popular man for the next couple of weeks because I got to meet your parents. Don't worry. I recognize that Grandpa, Jeeves, and Daddy's job are secrets. I won't tell anyone what you don't want them to know. As far as I'm concerned, we had lunch and then you discussed Larmarque while I wasn't paying much attention and then we had dinner and coffee where your mom talked about helping a charity. Nothing more." He promised.

She smiled at him, his stomach fluttering. This was two in one day. Two legitimate, genuine smiles. He'd thought it absolutely impossible.

"Thank you. I mean it." She repeated.

"Hey, I got free food and out of work today. I'm satisfied." He teased.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.

Ah. Back to normal. It was good to be home.

* * *

**Willkommen, bienvenue welcome! I think this is the first time I've actually finished a chapter at a reasonable hour and not well into the wee hours of the morning. I feel slightly disappointed. Well, since I'm not half outta my mind with delirium and sleep deprivation, I suppose all I can say is leave a review if you can. Questions, thoughts, goals, beliefs, emissions, or desires. All feedback is appreciated. Goodbye, everyone, and see you on the other side of the internet.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey, Grantaire, may I ask you something?" Enjolras asked, Friday night in the Musain. The funeral had been that day, and it seemed like most of the school had showed up. Enjolras gave a beautiful eulogy that nearly had him in tears. Most people, especially those who had never heard her rhetoric before, weren't spared of such things. He sat next to Mrs. Larmarque, apparently she liked him, and thankfully, he had stashed a box of tissues and a trash can beneath his chair and so she could cry freely. It was a beautiful service and he was glad he could get Enjolras back to help plan and execute it without worrying about anything else.

"You already did, but go ahead." He teased, gesturing to the seat beside him.

She rolled her eyes at him but sat down. "Have you told anyone about our plans next week?"

"Only Combeferre, because I thought you'd already told him." He answered.

She nodded, looking a little relieved.

"Is there a reason why you're asking?" He prompted.

"I just don't want the others to swarm us or get way too involved with whatever our relationship is or becomes. Courfeyrac loves to play matchmaker and Jehan will write poetry I don't want and I'd really rather just keep them out of it." She explained.

"That's all right. I get it. We'll tell them if you're ever ready. At least depending on what happens." He shrugged.

She nodded. "Thank you."

"Although, I will say they probably have noticed that you're being a lot nicer to me." "Probably have" was an understatement. He'd gotten at least two hundred texts over the past few days asking if he'd somehow gotten the stick out of Enjolras's butt as she hadn't yelled at him all week, most of them from Courfeyrac.

"You did me a great favor by coming with me. Of course I should be nice to you." She said, affronted.

"That's what I've been telling them, but you might wanna yell at me a bit to keep up appearances." He winked gaudily at her.

She groaned loudly and stormed off.

He just laughed.

"So much for a peace treaty then, huh?" Courfeyrac smirked, taking Enjolras's now empty chair.

"Well, we can keep from our vices for so long before we fall victim to them again." Grantaire sighed dramatically.

"It was nice while it lasted, I suppose." Courfeyrac mused.

"You doing okay?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah. I've spent most nights over at their place," Knowing Courfeyrac there was no need for him to specify which place, "and she's been handling it quite well. At least better than I thought she would."

"That's something." Grantaire tried.

"Yeah, but it's not her that's weirding me out. I haven't seen Combeferre smile since last Friday." Courfeyrac said, his voice turning a bit somber.

Hating that sound with a burning passion, Grantaire said, "Don't worry. I have."

Courfeyrac's facial expression didn't change. Something about it just set Grantaire on edge. Courfeyrac was a blinding light of smiles, corny jokes, bad puns and brilliant laughter. No matter what he always made sure that other people were happy.

"He's just been looking so sad lately, when he thinks we're not looking." Courfeyrac tried helplessly.

"'Fey, we all handle death in our own way." Grantaire reminded him.

"Right. That's gotta be it. Thanks, R." Courfeyrac smiled again and the knot that had developed in Grantaire's stomach relaxed.

"De nada." Grantaire smirked.

"Man, I haven't seen you go this long without a drink in years." Bousset's voice suddenly appeared from behind.

"Hey, I figure this is a big day for Enjolras and antagonizing her today seems so mean." Grantaire shrugged.

In actuality, he had been trying (and mostly failing but trying anyway) to cut down on drinking. He knew Enjolras didn't like it when he got drunk so, in an effort to impress her, he'd been trying to do that less around her.

"Yeah, I get that. Bahorel hasn't even gotten into a single bar fight today either, so I think you two are on the same page." Bousset nodded.

"Hey, great minds think alike." Grantaire laughed.

That elicited a chuckle.

"You coming to the White Shirt event next week?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Oh yeah. Got the day off and everything." Grantaire replied.

"Yeah, I think we all are. I know Joly and Musichetta are skipping the first half an hour of class so they can be there the whole time, and even Eponine is coming." Bousset added.

"Really? I would've thought she'd have work." Courfeyrac asked. Eponine worked almost as hard as Feuilly as she was in basically the same situation except her parents were live assholes.

"No somehow her schedule allowed it. She was really excited when she told 'Chetta." Bousset said, answering the remark and the question of how he knew Eponine's schedule.

"Well, I wonder what everyone's shirt is going to say. I mean, I got an idea for mine but I'm not sure about it." Courfeyrac murmured.

"Well, whatever you decide, I'm sure it'll be great 'Fey." Grantaire smiled.

Courfeyrac smiled back and nodded.

"Oh I already know what I'm going with." Bousset laughed.

"What's that?" Grantaire asked.

"You can find out on Wednesday, Mister Nosey-Pants." Bousset teased.

Grantaire did the mature thing and stuck his tongue out at him. Bousset just laughed.

"C'mon. I'm going to get a drink. Join me." Bousset stood and tripped not two seconds later.

The weekend passed fast. Work was hard but he couldn't contain himself forever, and after asking Enjolras just in case, told Emma of how it worked out and she was so glad that she promised to add a bit of a bonus for achieving such a thing. Enjolras got a kick out of that. School seemed to drag on, as all school does, but he had the time to finish some of his work, including the new painting Enjolras had inspired. He called the gallery about his work, but they said they couldn't accept any new stuff for another two weeks. Once that time passed, all of the work he could submit would be considered at that time. Used to that kind of schedule, as they could only show some of his work for whatever show they were doing, he simply started making sure he was caught up on schoolwork. This kind of free time was rare and he wanted to at least make sure he was caught up. Contrary to popular belief, he actually did want to be at college and wanted to pass his classes. And now that Courfeyrac had pointed it out, he kept a bit of a watch on Combeferre. The ball of energy was right. He didn't seem to smile much and he would sometimes gaze at Enjolras sadly. When questioned, Combeferre only said that he was a little upset that little Enjolras was growing up. Grantaire had laughed, and then moved on to convince Joly that Marius was dying.

The night before the event, there was a meeting and all the Amis were there. Enjolras didn't have a speech per say, but she did remind everyone what the event meant. And how much it would mean to her went unsaid. Then something occurred to him and when she got off her soap box, he pulled her aside.

"Do we have another faculty advisor? I mean, I know we can't continue on without one, the College Board won't let us." He asked.

"I've been given until next semester to find one. If I can't find one, then we're going to have a problem but I think Professor Muriel, the religious studies professor, might take us. Now, it's just a figurehead position since I do most of the leader work but I'm sure he could contribute." Enjolras replied, talking to herself a bit.

"I just wanted to make sure we've got permission to put on the events we've planned. Otherwise, Hurricane Enjolras is about to descend upon our school system." He laughed.

She snorted and rolled his eyes. "Must you torment me?"

"That was a compliment." Grantaire said indignantly.

She pursed her lips together and he decided to find solace in something else, like bourbon. And so he did.

"Still drinking, I see."

He hadn't heard that voice in years and he had hoped to never hear it again. He turned slowly, as if inching along would make the hallucination fade, and came face to face with the owner of that voice who was supposed to be miles away. She was older than when he last saw her, her hair greying yet slathered with a bad dye job, her face wrinkled and taut, her body large and sturdy with almost no femininity in her figure. Her clothes were in poor condition, probably from her abysmal occupation and her disdain for personal hygiene. In essence, she hadn't changed much.

"Go away." He tried.

"René, you may not treat me like that." The woman spat at him. Her temper it seemed had not assuaged over the years.

"My name is Nikolas. I had it legally changed when I was seventeen." He hissed, trying to shut her up.

"I don't care what those courts say! You're our René and you need to come home." She pressed.

"Never." Grantaire stated.

"You will do as I say." She took a step closer to him.

He wasn't fazed. "That didn't work when I was a kid. It's not going to work now. I said leave. Now leave."

"I'm not leaving until you say you're coming home." She retorted.

"You hate me. Why do you want me home?" He growled.

"Rémy is dead. You're expected at the funeral. It's tomorrow." She stated remorselessly.

The entire café went silent.

A pang hit Grantaire's stomach but he continued on. "I'm not going."

"You're expected." She repeated coldly.

"I wouldn't go if you paid me!" He shouted before forcibly calming down his tone. He could feel everyone staring at him. "Just go. Go and leave me alone."

"René, how dare you talk to me like that?" She objected, affronted.

"Besides, why would he even want me there? He hated me, you hate me, everyone else hates me. Everyone in town hates me! Why would I go back there?" He asked, hating that his voice was rising with his emotions. He really just wished everyone would stop staring at him. Why couldn't they just go back to their own conversations?

"Because you are expected at the funeral." She repeated.

"You said that. Twice. This is the answer I'm giving now; this is the answer I will always give you. I wouldn't be caught dead there. Now leave!" He ordered.

She ignored him. "I said I wasn't leaving until you said you were coming home."

"My home is here now. I have school, my art, a life! A life that doesn't include you!" He countered.

"Disrespectful, ungrateful, retarded bitch!" She screamed.

"You forgot 'stupid, ugly and worthless'." He shot back, all restraints on his voice gone.

He knew what was coming before it did. Her fist connected with the right side of his face and he stumbled back a few steps. Suddenly, everyone who was sitting was now standing (he could hear the fast scrapings of chairs) and when he took a second to look at his friends, he saw them tensed and ready for a fight. Bahorel already had his fists up and Jehan seemed to wield his pen as a weapon.

"Get. Out." He hissed.

She obviously must have realized she was grossly outnumbered so she stepped back from him and stormed out, stopping at the door. "As I said, you're expected at the funeral. Tomorrow, eleven o'clock. You know the place."

The only sound in the café was Grantaire's heavy breathing. The black eye he now had was starting to make itself known as a dull throb in his face. He knew by the time he woke up the next morning, it'd be as purple as a ripe eggplant. After what seemed like an eternity, Jehan spoke up.

"Um, Taire, who was that?"

"My mother." He answered, his tone making it clear no other questions would be answered.

Unable to stand everyone staring and the pity that was forming, he grabbed his stuff and shoved it into his bag.

"R, wait!" Enjolras called out but he ignored it. He just slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out.

He had hitched a ride to the Musain with Bousset and Joly, which he regretted now. It would be at least a twenty minute walk before he got home. His emotions tore through his mind, raging and damaging everything they could. Tears welled up in his eyes, and the more he fought to keep them at bay it seemed the more they threatened to spill down his cheeks. Walking as quickly as he could, using every short cut he knew, he finally arrived home. He threw open his door, slammed it as hard as he could, threw his bag down, fell onto the couch and screamed. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair! Why did she have to come in and screw his life up now?! How did she even know where he was? He purposefully left no trace of where he was going and it wasn't like he really had anyone to tell. New name, new apartment, new life. Why the hell was she in it now? Why couldn't she just stay gone?

He didn't realize he was crying until he pulled himself up. Anguish was replaced by anger fairly quickly. Knowing if he punched a hole in the wall, he'd be in deep shit with his landlady so he tried to take his frustration out on the doorway from the bedroom to the living room. Intellectually, he knew beating up poor, defenseless doorways wouldn't do much more than break his hand. But for a moment, feeling the pain in his hand distracted him from the colossal fuckery he just left behind. There was no way the others wouldn't ask. They were like that. Caring and inquisitive. Once he knew one more hit would probably break his hand, he pulled back and just collapsed in a heap, tears once more coming to his eyes. Finally allowing them to fall made him feel like such a damn girl but he couldn't help it. He'd done so much to leave that life and leave it behind. It was like he couldn't escape. He hated it and he hated them. Everyone in that goddamn family and everyone in that goddamn town!

A knock sounded.

Grantaire sighed and wiped his face. His landlady or one of the other tenants must've heard his fight with the wall. Now whether she was checking up on him or the wall he wasn't sure. Still, he went to the door with a quick, "I'm coming". He opened it to somehow allow a blonde head to duck underneath his arm and squeeze into his room. As his landlady was more on the grey side, this obviously confused him. He turned and saw Julia Enjolras making herself comfortable in his kitchen.

"Come in." He muttered rhetorically.

"I did." She answered literally.

"Look, Enjolras, please. I'm not in the mood tonight. I really just want to be alone, drink and stew in self-pity." He tried.

"That's not very healthy. As your friend, and potential partner in a relationship, I do believe I'm required to try and stay with you and make sure you live long enough for our date Friday. I'd be very disappointed if you missed it." She stated. If he didn't want to stop breathing right now, he might've found it funny.

"Enjolras-" He started.

"Grantaire, please. You were there for me. Let me be there for you." She pleaded.

He didn't know what it was, but something inside him capitulated and he nodded, closing the door. He plopped down on the couch and then suddenly something cold was on his hand. He turned, pulled his hand away sharply, and found Enjolras with a bag of ice in her hand.

"I could hear you pounding on the wall before I knocked. Should at least ice it." She muttered and he gave his hand back. She gently pressed the ice against his hand but the cold still stung a bit.

"I'm not sure if this is the right time or way to do this but, what the hell was that?" She asked bluntly.

He burst out laughing. Not the funny kind, or the release after a long build-up of giggles but the kind that very quickly turns into tears.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." She shifted uncomfortably.

"No, no. It's just… that's so you. That's just so you Enjolras. If anyone else did it, we'd be saying 'You pulled an Enjolras'." He choked out once he forced himself to calm down.

She looked confused but didn't press the matter.

"Do you want to talk about it? It really does help." She tried.

He knew. Of course he knew. But Enjolras wasn't a therapist. She was just his friend. And 'potential partner in a relationship'. God, if there ever was a phrase so perfectly Enjolras in the entire language, that was it. He heard her call his name but his mind was occupied with battle. The pros and cons of each side went to war against the counterparts. He knew she meant well, and she could very well keep a secret. But he'd been keeping the secret so long and he was scared of it ever coming out. Actually, he was tired of keeping it a secret. And since they did have sex and were about to go on a date, he figured she would at least like to know everything before starting so. He might lose her, but it would finally feel good to tell someone. Well, they were doing everything backwards anyways. So might as well.

"It's a long story." He finally decided on saying. If she wasn't ready for this, she could back out now.

She didn't answer him. She only stood up and went into the kitchen. _So that's where she stands_, he thought bitterly. His heart hurt and he rested his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. Enjolras had trusted him at her parents' house. Why was this any different? She had asked even. Maybe she wanted to get to sleep before two in the morning again? With Enjolras, you never knew. Enjolras was so confusing sometimes. Or maybe she just didn't want to hear such a story. He hoped that wasn't true. Enjolras usually liked hearing about her friends. Or maybe they weren't as close of friends as the others were. Maybe she didn't want to know him that well. That would mean she only was trying this relationship because she felt obligated because they had sex. Shit. He was really hoping it wouldn't end up like this. He'd been praying with everything he had that she had genuinely liked him back. Maybe this is what he got for trusting someone again. After all, people were so cruel and trusting them always ended badly.

"R, hey R." She called out to him, reappearing on the couch. She was facing him, cross-legged, her body perpendicular to his with a mug of coffee in each hand, a small but sad smile on her face. Her left was outstretched to him. "If this is going to be a long time, we might as well have coffee to make sure we stay awake."

He nearly started crying again. He tried to swallow down the thickness in his throat and took the coffee. It wasn't from his coffeemaker.

"I thought you didn't drink instant coffee." He said.

She shrugged. "I can stomach it for one evening."

His throat closed again and she waited for him to begin.

"Are you sure you wanna hear this? You may not want to know me when I'm through." He asked, knowing that the only way to tell her was to tell her every single thing. Even and especially things he hated about himself and his family.

"I really don't think that's possible. If you want to, continue." She replied.

"All right. As long as you know what you're getting into." At her nod, he sighed and began.

"The first thing you gotta know I'm sorry." At her confused head tilt, he went on, "I lied to you all when I first met you. It was safer that way. For you and me. I wasn't disowned by my parents because I was pansexual. I ran away when I was sixteen, lived with a friend for a couple months before finding an apartment a few cities over where I went to high school and you know the rest. The thing about my old neighborhood is it is about one of the shittiest neighborhoods in this entire country. And when I say neighborhood I mean entire town. We have everything we need to be shitty. Poor people, drug dealers, junkies, dropouts, gangs, pimps and whores. My parents run a lot of the drugs and guns on the east side. They would use my brothers and sisters and I to run the drugs to the dealers and bring them back the cash. Before I could walk, I understood how to cut ecstasy without blowing shit up. I hated it there. I hated what my parents did for a living and I hated my family for joining in and making me do it too. I tried as hard as I could in school but I had a bit of a problem. It wasn't my grades, or my family's influence or anything like that, no. No, it was because I was born René."

"René? R Grantaire?" Enjolras asked, incredulous.

"I'm getting to it, don't interrupt." He chided.

"Sorry." She murmured.

"And yes, it was R Grantaire. Back to the story, I was born René. A-" Fear ran rampant through his system but he trusted her, "A girl René. I'm a post-op transgender."

She gasped, her knuckled going white against the coffee mug. He could feel his heart begin to race in his chest. He knew trusting was a bad idea. He never should've done this.

"I'm sorry. I'm just surprised. Everything just seemed so… natural that night. Please continue." She hesitated.

"My peers, my teachers, everyone in that goddamned town, even my own family hated me, the ones who survived anyways. Because I would introduce myself as a boy. And of course, I'd get the speech of 'God doesn't make mistakes' or saying my downstairs said I was a girl and I couldn't change that. I was the girl who had a short haircut, refused to wear skirts and I was the girl who wore a tuxedo to freshman homecoming. Everything girlie my parents would throw at me I hated. My dad was a bit more sympathetic, saying I was just a tomboy and that I'd eventually grow up to like make-up and dresses. It was his saying that that kept my mother from constantly beating the shit out of me. My mother is, well I'm not quite sure what she is. She's a bit of a sociopath but she's also incredibly stupid. Sometimes, I think she's too stupid to be a sociopath. I don't know. Anyways, by the time I was twelve, I was ready to tie rocks to my hands and feet and throw myself in the river. Sometimes, I was drunk enough to do it. By the third time my father found me with his pistol and the safety off, he and my mother agreed to take me to a therapist. They had asked the internet what to do and thankfully, the internet said therapy. So they found a guy a town over, since nobody in our town could be trusted and took me to him. My parents told him that I needed to be cured. That none of their other children were like that and I needed to become a good girl. After listening to me, alone of course, he told me I didn't need to be cured. There wasn't anything wrong with me. I wasn't defective. He told me something incredible. Other people like me existed and they were called transgender. I think I spent the next fifteen minutes straight just crying. He told me about hormones and that I was young enough that I may never even have a period. After a few sessions, and a few lies to my parents, he put me on testosterone. He simply told them that the 'anti-depression meds' he was putting me on would make me overproduce testosterone but they would help me. Actually, I didn't even need anti-depressants because the hormones made me feel good about myself. That I was finally going to be who I was meant to be. For a few years, that worked. I still tried to stay out of my family's criminal lives but I no longer wanted to kill myself and for a while that was good enough. And then, January when I was sixteen, my oldest sister came back home. Rachel had gotten knocked up and she needed a place to stay. So obviously we welcomed her back home. Rachel… she's a real piece of work. Human trafficking, drugs, guns, the woman does it all. I must admit though, she's great at what she does. The few police who try to really do their jobs can't seem to find any evidence to ever implicate her. So, she's living with us and she and I have never gotten along. She likes using the bible to justify whatever bigotry she wants to have. She's racist, homophobic, everything you aren't. She's the worst aspects of my parents and our town combined. And she 'doesn't believe' in mental illness. So when my manly appearance was revealed to be the result of 'anti-depressants', she grabbed me by my hair and threw me in the bathroom. And before I could stop her, she flushed all my medication and told me that I needed to ship up or she'd beat the crap out of me. I was nothing more than a hoe to her. And when I asked my father to do something about it, he just said to deal since Rachel was pregnant and_ I_ needed to accommodate _her_. When I told my father I would kill myself, Rachel overheard and threw me down the stairs. So I said I'd be spending the night at a friend's and hitchhiked to my therapist's office. Miracle of miracles, he was still there. I begged him to help me. I couldn't do it. I couldn't live there anymore. I was going to kill myself or they were going to for me. So he let me stay with him for a bit and I only went back to my house once more. That was to move me out when I knew everyone else would be gone and for me to… well, steal as much as I could. I know stealing is a bad thing but I was in a terrible spot and my parents had many things I could sell to make sure I could start myself off. Some of it was drugs and guns, some of it was just cash, and others were things I could pawn. I did that a lot for my parents. They'd stash usually stolen goods at the house and send me to the pawn shops. I felt it was less dirty than working with drugs. And it had a much less chance of getting me killed, like Riley. Riley was the youngest above me. I'm the baby, you could say. Anyways, Riley got involved a bad deal and the west siders knifed him to try to get him to stop dealing so close to their territory. He died when I was fourteen. Don't feel bad, he hated me too. I felt bad that he died but the people in that family don't really matter to me. So it really didn't matter to me that I was stealing from them. I was just taking money from the bad guys to help a good guy start over. So I got about in total about seventy-five thousand dollars. I stole the car too. Well, the one we didn't use for hauling drugs. So I imagine they're still quite mad at me about that. But I found myself a new apartment, a job, and my therapist got me into a new school. Said new school had art contests of which I entered senior year and I won and once I was eighteen, I got a sex change and you know the rest."

She was silent for a while. He didn't mind. He knew it was a lot to process. His heart was still hammering but at least it felt like a weight he didn't know he was carrying had been lifted off of his shoulders. Her knuckles were still white but she didn't look too disgusted. Hopefully, he wasn't going to be thrown out of the Amis for lying to them for so long.

"Thank you for telling me that." She managed. She took a sip of her coffee and finally noticed she'd already drained it. He poured his untouched and cold coffee into her cup. She took a sip, made a face at it and he burst out laughing. Soon, she joined him in laughter and once they calmed down she started talking again.

"I'm… I don't know what to say. I never imagined you having a backstory like this. I just saw you as someone who doesn't care much about what he's doing and doesn't mind that he's destroying himself. Wait a second, why didn't you tell us this before? Is the Les Amis not a safe space for trans people? I've been trying but I haven't really been able to find many people here in the trans community. We are a small university I know but I always want to be inclusive of everyone in the LGTQIA plus community and that does mean the T part too and if it's not you need to tell me what I need to do-"

"Enjolras!" Finally, after the fifth time she paused.

"It's not you, or the Amis. You're great, they're great. It had nothing to do with you. It had everything to do with me. I was scared. No, I was terrified. I'd just left a violent home situation and I was scared that you'd send me back or tell me that I wasn't a real man or that I was just a girl with a dick. I wasn't ready to tell anyone and before I met you I wasn't sure on whether you guys were transphobic or not. The gay community can be so hateful sometimes and I wasn't sure whether you agreed with them." He explained.

"Then why come to us at all?" Enjolras asked.

"I was still pretty nervous my first meeting which is why I drank so much and got into such trouble with you. Do you remember the first time we met?" He answered.

"That night when I was really, really mean and had you thrown out?" She replied, confused.

"No, we met before that. Actually, I shouldn't say met. I saw you and then decided your group couldn't be all bad." He mused.

She tilted her head in confusion.

"It was the day I saw you giving a speech and collecting petition signatures for a gender neutral bathroom."

She gasped, whether she remembered or figured out why that was so important he couldn't be sure.

"That's the only bathroom I really felt comfortable using our first year. I was still getting used to all my new equipment. I wouldn't use the bathroom if anyone else was in it and it sucked trying to find an empty bathroom. Sometimes I'd have to go all across campus to find one. But _you_ rallied for those bathrooms and _you_ got them. And that's when I knew." He smiled at her.

"Knew what?" She asked.

"That following you was going to be the best decision I'd ever made." _And that I loved you._

She returned his smile. "Thank you."

"Oh, um, _I_ want to tell the others. You understand?" He added.

"Of course. Whenever you're ready." She nodded.

They sat in silence for a minute.

"Grantaire, did Children's Services ever get involved with your family? I would hope they did." Enjolras inquired suddenly.

Grantaire's voice went hard. He hated remembering that. "Once. I was nine. The home they sent me to was so bad I ran away back home. My parents got us back soon after."

She shifted uncomfortably then her face was horrified. "Oh God, this explains so much!"

"Huh?" He prompted.

"You! You being raised the way you were, how you were gender-wise, it explains everything about you! I mean, not everything, nothing does that, but your cynicism! Your drinking addiction! Your misanthropy! Oh God, why didn't I see this before?" She shouted at herself.

"Because you weren't looking for it." His voice froze her. "You were content seeing me as a drunken asshole who our friends liked. People generally see what look for and hear what they listen for."

Her face fell. "And they have a right to subject their children to it. I'm so sorry, Grantaire."

"Hey, we're all guilty of judging someone by their looks or the superficial way of how they act. We can't go into depth with every single person we meet. We don't have enough time or ability to feel that deeply. Sometimes we even overlook our friends and associate stereotypes to fill in the gaps. It's not like you're the only one to do it. I used to think that you were a stick-up-your-ass, stickler for rules, no secrets, indifferent social justice machine." He tried.

"And how long were you thinking that?" She asked and he knew he had said something dangerous.

"Before I took the time to get to know you and understand you." He specifically didn't add that that was only Friday before last that he stopped with using those stereotypes to fill the chasms of knowledge missing from his collection of memories with Enjolras.

"Um I hope this isn't offensive, but have you ever gone through periods?" Enjolras asked, as if suddenly realizing something.

"Uh, a few. Not many I was able to transition at the age of twelve so I didn't have many under my belt. I don't really remember them." He replied and then realized he'd given the wrong answer.

Enjolras's eyes were slits of anger. "Sometimes I can't move from mine. What. The. Fuck?"

"When you transition, you don't have periods anymore?" He tried.

"You are dead to me." She said turning away from him.

"Enjolras, c'mon. It can't be that important to you. C'mon. Enjolras. Please. Enjolras. Don't make me say it. I'll say it." Nothing. "Julia."

She turned and gave him a good hard punch to the arm. "Ow!"

"Serves you right. I tell ya, when you're ready and you tell Cosette, 'Chetta and Eponine and you tell them you've never had a memorable period symptom, they will kill you. And I might join them. Or at least hide the body." She growled.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it." He protested.

"Still mad." She pouted, but at least she had turned back towards him.

He smiled at her and she rolled her eyes but stopped pouting.

"Oh I have something for you." She said and grabbed her bag. She pulled out a White shirt and handed it him. "For tomorrow's event. Unless, you don't want to go. I know it would be hard I guess-"

"I'm going. I know how much this means to you. Besides, I have a great word to use for my shirt and I want to use it." He stopped her.

"Thank you. It does mean a lot that everyone is coming. I think this is the first event of the year that every single one of us will be able to attend." She smiled gently.

He nodded then looked at the clock. "God is it midnight already? You should be getting home. We have a big day tomorrow and you need sleep."

"One more question." Enjolras shot.

"Ask away." He acquiesced.

"Let me get this straight. Rachel, Rémy, Riley and René." She said, allowing her statements to ask.

"Ryan too." He supplied, chuckling.

"Ryan too? How many siblings do you have?" Enjolras demanded.

"I had four." He said.

"Four? And they're all named with an R? Seriously? They're all R Grand R?" She tested.

"Yep." He nodded.

"What were your parent's names?" She commanded.

"Will and Sue." He stated.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Enjolras seemed dumbstruck.

"No. William and Susan Grantaire." He shrugged.

"Who then produced Rachel, Rémy, Ryan, Riley, and René?" She repeated.

"Yes. I'm surprised. You got us in the right order." He said.

"And you're not kidding?" She tried.

"No. My parents just had a thing for the letter R. My dad thought it was clever. R Grand R." He shrugged.

"Never let Courfeyrac know about all five names. He will never let you live it down. _Four_ siblings all with R names." She huffed.

"Two." He said.

"Excuse me?" She said.

"I only have two now. Rachel and Ryan. The other two are dead." He supplied.

Her face tightened. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. I told you, I don't care about them. You know how you don't like being related to your grandfather?" He asked.

She nodded.

"It's like that, except your grandfather was a legal criminal. My family are illegal criminals." He analogized.

She nodded slowly. "Thank you for having the courage to tell me this. I really appreciate it."

"Hey, we're doing everything else backwards. Why not?" He mused.

She tilted her head again.

"The sharing of your deepest, darkest secrets usually comes much further down the road. I'm not quite sure Joly, Bousset and Musichetta know this much about each other and they've been dating for two and a half years." He explained.

She nodded. He saw her look towards the door then turn back.

"I know you have more questions but I think you should head back." He tried.

"One more. And I mean one more." She insisted.

"All right. One more. Then you gotta get home." He allowed.

"Why weren't you like them? You're parents, I mean. You said you hated what they did, even from a young age. Why?" She inquired.

"That's two." He teased.

She glared at him.

"Well, I guess the only answer I have for you is I was the only one in my family who had morals. Somehow, I knew what we were doing was wrong. That it was hurting people and I didn't want to be a part of it. That's another reason why they hate me. They think I'm weak." He replied.

"You're not weak. You are the farthest thing from it." She praised and he couldn't breathe for a moment.

"All right. That's it. No more questions. You gotta get home. Wait, did you walk here?" He asked.

She nodded again.

"I can't let you walk the streets alone at midnight. You'd never make it home. You wanna stay here or you want me to drive you home?" He offered.

"Combeferre is probably waiting up for me. And don't worry. Even though I tell him everything, it'll be everything less this." Enjolras smiled.

He nodded and grabbed his keys.

The drive home was short and full of chatter. Grantaire had asked her not to ask any more questions, instead to start cataloguing them in her mind. He felt he had talked enough tonight. She understood. So she decided to keep him awake, she would talk. And talk. And talk. From the summary, he thought it was a book she had read or something. He wasn't really paying attention to her, in all honesty. He was beginning to get slightly exhausted. He pulled in front of her building and parked.

"I can make into my own apartment." She stated.

"It's gentlemanly." He said and got out of the car.

She just rolled her eyes at him again. He walked her to her flat and bid her good night, and that he'd see her tomorrow. After a brief bout of indecision flashed through her eyes, she stood on tip-toe and gave him a quick kiss. It was chaste, virginal even, but it left his stomach exploding with joy and his lips seemed to burst with feeling and his whole body tingled like he had just been accepted into heaven. Out of all the kisses he'd ever received, he knew for sure that this was the best one of his life.

"Good night, Grantaire."

He stood dumbly in the empty hallway. His mind was spinning. Enjolras, not overcome with grief, not dizzy on adrenaline and excitement, had kissed him. Willingly, knowingly kissed him. Even after he'd told her all of the skeletons in his closet. He wasn't tired the entire drive back.

* * *

**All right. The first thing I want to say is here's why I didn't tell you Grantaire was trans in the summary. I wanted everybody to see that he's just a normal man. With this secret revealed, nothing changes in that man-ness. He's still the same Grantaire he was. And everybody who delights in telling people we're all going to hell for such things, don't bother. All it does is boost my review numbers. And I'm sorry if I caused any dysphoria to any of my trans readers. And if you have anything to say about Grantaire being trans please let me know. I want to be as accurate as possible.**

**Well, I'm open for questions, thoughts, beliefs, goals, emissions or desires. Leave a review if you can. Goodbye, everyone, and see you on the other side of the Internet.**

**(P.S. If any of you want to see how I see Enjolras and Grantaire in this story, I've found this delightful little website that allows me to create a character without having to actually draw. It's wonderful since as good as I am as a procrastinator, I'm just as bad at drawing. So if any of you want it, PM me and I'll give you the link. Bye for real now.)**


	7. Chapter 7

Even though he'd promised Enjolras that he'd go, he almost chickened out on the way to school. He hoped Enjolras would understand but then that damn white shirt would itch and he'd look down and he'd remember why he was doing this. But still he felt rooted to his car and couldn't bring himself to open the door. He knew the Amis would have tons of questions, even if Enjolras had warned them, they'd see the shirt and disregard the warning. One side of his mind chanted _I'm not ready for this_ and another side said _Yes I am_ but the one who he listened to the most was _Think of what this means to Enjolras. Besides, you're not going to be the only one there with a secret. _Ten fifty-two he opened his door, got out of his car and knew there was no going back from this. He figured maybe it was time for him to stop living with a secret this big. He hated it and he sometimes hated himself for keeping it. Now it was time to bring his past and his present together. God, he needed a drink. But his feet were already taking him to the elevator, and to the top of the amphitheater. He saw lots of white shirts gathered there, as the Amis were just finishing setting up.

"Hey, Grantaire! We didn't think you'd make it!" Bousset yelled. He waved and inadvertently gave Musichetta a good knock to the head.

Grantaire laughed and jogged a bit to see what he could do. As he came closer, the writing on the shirts became clear. Bousset's read the word **Jinx **in big black letters. Musichetta's read **Low Expectations**. He smiled at them and when they saw his shirt, they gasped.

"I feel like questioning you is not the right way to go at the moment." Musichetta managed.

"Not now. I'd rather explain to everyone at the same time. That way I don't tell the same story a thousand times." He shrugged, though inside he was immensely relieved.

"Nikolas, I'm so proud of you." Musichetta smiled gently and he was reminded of Musichetta's beauty. Not just her outer beauty- her Malaysian skin, braided back brown hair, and her intense chocolate brown eyes- but her kindness and acceptance of everyone around her. That was what made her truly beautiful.

He mumbled a 'thanks' and blushed. Musichetta was the only person who called him Nikolas and today that made all the difference.

"And your eye? That gonna be okay?" Bousset asked.

"I'll be fine. It wasn't as swollen as I thought it would be. I can still see pretty clearly." Grantaire explained.

"Good. Now find the camera and start snapping pictures." Knowing Enjolras wouldn't mind, as she found most orders by Musichetta reasonable, he did as she said. The Amis stared at the word on his shirt and he did his best to ignore them.

"Stop staring and finish!" Enjolras suddenly commanded, her booming voice startling everyone out of their incredulity. Now wanting to look busy, everyone turned away from him. He shot Enjolras a grateful look. She peaked at his shirt, her eyes went wide, and she smiled at him brilliantly before he broke her gaze. He couldn't keep looking at her. He'd go blind.

"So I see you've become our cameraman." Enjolras said lightly.

"Musichetta's orders." He answered.

"Good. I want lots of pictures of this event. Our social media pages will be burning up with these." Enjolras said. Then she moved as Jehan had a question for her.

He nodded and snapped a candid picture of her helping.

"Don't take pictures of me. I wasn't ready. Get the others. And the students." Enjolras blushed.

"But that wouldn't be equal, O gracious leader. Besides, you're never ready." He teased.

She glared at him.

He captured her glare on camera with a smirk.

She just groaned and turned away from him.

"Wow. That's a helluva word." Courfeyrac murmured from his left.

He turned and saw the normally cheerful and exuberant man smiling sadly, almost tiredly, with the word **Depressed**. The shock on Grantaire's face must have been clear.

"I guess the saddest people smile the brightest." Courfeyrac shrugged.

Grantaire said nothing, he only embraced his friend tightly.

"You know that-" Grantaire started.

"I've got that about twenty times today. Don't bother. I know. I promise." Courfeyrac said.

Grantaire nodded. "Are you being treated?"

"Yeah. For about three years now. You know those free counsellors the school offers?" Courfeyrac replied.

"At shacs?" Shacs was the abbreviation of student health and counselling services.

"I've got my own little corner in there. And I've been on anti-depressants for about the same time." Courfeyrac answered.

"Wait, I've been at your apartment many times and I've never seen those." Grantaire blurted out.

"I keep them in Marius's room. Nobody but Cosette ever goes in there and she certainly doesn't search through his underwear drawer." Courfeyrac responded.

"Marius knew?" Grantaire stated, confused. Marius was not known for his amazing secret-keeping skills.

"Yeah, I figured he should know since he was living with me." Courfeyrac replied.

"And he's managed to keep quiet this entire time?" Grantaire inquired.

"Yeah. Actually Marius is very good at keeping secrets. Its surprises he's bad with." Courfeyrac answered.

Grantaire nodded then Jehan called Courfeyrac.

"Hey, 'Fey?" Grantaire asked.

Courfeyrac turned to him.

"It's a great idea. Since this seems to be the phrase of the day, I'm very proud of you." Grantaire smiled.

Courfeyrac nodded. "Yeah I've gotten that a lot to. And it's returned. I never would've guessed you'd be…"

"I'm telling everyone at one time. Probably back at the Musain after the event, when Enjolras is going over our results." Grantaire repeated.

Courfeyrac nodded and then the 'bell rang'. It meant eleven fifteen and all the classes starting at ten were no longer in session. He snapped pictures as students were released and swarmed upon the tables full of free T-Shirts. The smell of sharpie overwhelmed everyone and yet the air couldn't be lighter. It was like the students allowed themselves to be free for one afternoon. So many words were written, some he never would've considered. He saw slut, stupid, dumb jock, retard, and perfectionist. He also saw ADHD, knocked up, anorexic, and even one read schizo. One moment, he saw Enjolras, basking in glory and pride. Finally able to break away from her beautiful face, he took a glance at the word on her chest.

**Cruel**.

When there was a slight lull at twelve oh five, he let the camera hang around his neck and he squeezed his way to her.

"Enjoying this?" He murmured.

"Yeah. I've gotten so many compliments and well-wishers. If people are coming out of pity, I can't seem to tell." Enjolras beamed, glowing as she always did at a rally.

Momentarily stunned by her beauty, he froze. Shaking himself out of it, he said, "I like your word."

"I'm glad I chose this." She nodded gently.

"Why did you?" He asked.

"When I was going over it in my head, I kept coming back to what you said that night at my parents' house. About how I can use my words dangerously and I can stab people with a bloody sword of words. I have blood on my hands and I'm ashamed of it. Your blood especially. I can't tell you how many times my words have made you bleed. Of course not physically, but… still. You really made me think. I had a few others but they didn't compare. So here I am." She explained.

He smiled at her. He never could've thought that he could inspire Enjolras in such a way. This event meant a lot to her. He didn't think his words would even stay in her head.

"I think your word is very powerful as well, Grantaire. It's not what I would've done but I see the power behind it." Enjolras said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Well, sometimes you have to say horrible things to get the point across." He shrugged.

Enjolras nodded but was then distracted by someone with questions. Grantaire snuck another picture of her and wandered off to find more volunteers to show off their shirts. He easily found a trio of sorority girls with the words **Mean Girl**, **Unlovable**, and **Drove High**.

"Hey, so would we be allowed to share the picture on our Facebook page?" Mean Girl asked.

"Sure. It'll be posted under the Les Ames Facebook page and probably on our website. There's a link on Facebook. That'll tell you everything about our meetings, our charity drives, and our events. We have some flyers about us on that table, with the boy with the word **Hypochondriac**. His name is Joly." Grantaire said, repeating Enjolras's words. At least, whoever was working the camera was to send all people to the Les Amis booth. And inside his head, he still snickered at Joly's word. He loved Joly and it was very fitting, but he had to admit, sort of cliché. But he completely understood why he would choose it. Joly's hypochondria affected every single day of his life.

"Hey, Grantaire. You get my girls set up?" Jehan's voice came up from behind, making him jump. "Sorry."

"You just startled me." Grantaire dismissed, a bit more focused on the three words written clearly on Jehan's shirt. **Pill Popping Poet**. Intellectually, he knew Jehan had been addicted to ecstasy while in high school. But Jehan had told them he'd gotten clean to go to college and really that was the end of that. He didn't realize it still bothered him.

"Oh Jehan." He murmured.

"It's okay. My three year anniversary is in March. I've been clean for a long time. I'm proud of it now. Hence the shirt." Jehan grinned.

Grantaire just nodded.

"Relax. You should see Courfeyrac." Jehan said.

"I have." Grantaire replied.

"Yeah that was a shock. So are you, you know." Jehan said.

"I'm going to-"

"We know. Courfeyrac spread it around that you'll explain later. We get it. This is a very public place." Jehan shrugged, smiling at him.

Grantaire returned it. Then saw Feuilly coming over with new markers.

"Hey. Feuilly, get over here!" Grantaire called. He needed to get a closer view at Feuilly's shirt. It couldn't be what he thought it said.

So Feuilly, ever the faithful friend, jogged over and smiled at Grantaire. "Yeah?"

Grantaire just stared at his shirt. It read **Illiterate**. "You know this isn't true."

"It was once. I didn't learn to read until I was fourteen and I emigrated here. I couldn't read or write for a long time. It's not something I'm proud of but today is about that I guess." Feuilly shrugged.

Grantaire nodded.

"Besides, I could say the same about your word. To anyone else, I suppose it's sort of offensive." Feuilly said.

"I couldn't fit the whole word on there. Also, if I'm going to be identified by my flaws, then I'm going to choose my own damn slur." Grantaire answered.

Feuilly nodded.

"Hey, Grantaire, Enjolras wants pictures of everybody so make sure you get all the Amis." Courfeyrac chimed in, reminding them all that they were working.

Grantaire nodded and went over to Marius's table. Marius, Cosette, and Eponine were all working there handing out shirts. It seemed Marius was in charge of large and extra-large, Eponine had mediums and Cosette had smalls. He completely understood this order. If Marius and Cosette were allowed to work next to each other, no work would get done, Marius would be as red as a tomato, and Cosette would be a giggling mess. Full and empty boxes were stacked behind them and they were swarmed again as more students were coming in to claim their free shirts. He started taking pictures as each student got one shirt.

"Hey Grantaire! Glad you could make it!" Cosette called, a brilliant smile lighting up her beautiful face. Her blonde hair shone in the sunlight, giving her an angelic glow, yet it wasn't the type of glow Enjolras had. Enjolras was powerful, seeming more like an arch-angel under the command of the Heavens and Cosette was more of a gentle cherub whose mission was to spread love and humanity. Her word was **Naïve**. He smiled at her and somehow her growing smile didn't break her face. Next to her, Eponine's shirt said **Trust Issues**. Knowing Eponine's background of abuse and neglect, it seemed the perfect fit. Marius's shirt surprised him. **Abandoned**. He figured it had to be his parents. All he knew was that Marius was raised by his grandfather. Other than that, Marius was a rather private person when it came to his past. He understood. After getting in at least twenty good pictures, he headed over to the writer's table and saw Combeferre and Bahorel who were on crowd control. The first time after meeting them he could've sworn no two people could do a worse job but he was proven wrong so quickly. Combeferre was gentle and would herd people without them even realizing they were being herded while Bahorel took care of the more rowdy crew. It was a fascinating dynamic. Combeferre caught his eye, then his shirt, and he gaped conspicuously. Grantaire just smirked to himself. He did like surprising everyone now and again. Screw that, he _loved_ it. Combeferre's still gaping face made him laugh. Then Combeferre shook his head and went back to work. Grantaire snapped a few pictures of that before heading over.

"Fun, huh?" Grantaire grinned mischievously.

"Incredibly." Combeferre said drily. His own shirt read **Inadequate**. Grantaire felt a pang of pity for Combeferre. He was a perfectionist and more often than not, it was extremely hard on him. Especially whenever it concerned Enjolras.

"So what's happening afterwards? I mean, do we have anything specific planned besides going over how it went today?" Grantaire asked as the camera flashed.

"Other than you explaining your word? We might have a bit of a bonding session, because Courfeyrac also has some explaining to do. So do some of the others. Actually, go run that by Enjolras and see whether she wants to wait on the meeting or do the meeting first and then we all head back to whose ever apartment's cleanest." Combeferre said, slightly herding two freshman girls who had no idea where to go.

"So yours?" Grantaire asked.

"Doesn't anybody clean their apartments?" Combeferre groaned but there was faint amusement in his eyes.

Grantaire smiled and turned back to go to Enjolras. Suddenly, Bahorel enveloped his vision and then his entire frame. Even though, Bahorel was only about a half a foot taller, he still could and would lean backwards and pick Grantaire up, instinctually making Grantaire kick his feet a bit at the loss of ground. This time was no exception. When Bahorel finally placed Grantaire back on the ground, he clapped Grantaire on the back so hard he nearly toppled over. (Okay, he may have been teasing but he was sure it would bruise.)

"It's good to see you here. Feuilly and I had a bet if you would or wouldn't show." Bahorel laughed.

"You lost, didn't you?" Grantaire accused.

"Eh we just were deciding on who was doing the grocery shopping." Bahorel shrugged.

Grantaire laughed. "So anybody need to be thrown out?"

"There were a couple people I needed to intimidate but other than that it's been boring." Bahorel frowned.

"Well, maybe someone will be stupid and you can earn your word." Grantaire gave him a light smack on the arm. Bahorel's shirt read **Violent**.

Bahorel nodded and Grantaire decided to disappear into the crowd to find Enjolras. She was surrounded by these two teachers, who seemed angry and Enjolras seemed defensive. He took a few pictures and decided to turn on the video part of the camera. It wasn't very good and they hardly ever used it, but still video evidence was wonderful.

"Miss Enjolras, Larmarque would be so happy. This is a wonderful event." One of them was saying.

Ah, not anger. Anger and grief were sometimes indiscernible in peoples' eyes and he knew Enjolras would be defensive because she did not like to be the center of pity.

"Enjolras, can I borrow you for a moment?" Grantaire called, and she looked at him gratefully.

"Of course. Excuse me. Feel free to get a shirt and write a word." She excused and slipped away quickly. "Thanks."

"You seemed uncomfortable." Grantaire shrugged.

"They wanted to talk and talk about Larmarque and to be honest, I'd rather not. I said everything I had to say on Friday." Enjolras said, her tone essentially ending the topic.

"Well, I came here to ask Combeferre has suggested a bonding session tonight and he wants to know if whether you want everyone to gather at the Musain first or the bonding session first." Grantaire asked.

"I assume you all will be bringing alcohol?" Enjolras replied.

"Probably. It's difficult to talk about these things to certain people. Sometimes, you need a little liquid courage." Grantaire tried.

"You didn't." Enjolras muttered.

"I had been drinking before my mother showed up. So I wasn't sober as a judge." At her slightly paling face, he continued quickly, "I was sober enough to know what I was telling you. Anyways, I've been able to keep this secret when I was black-out drunk. The alcohol helped, but it didn't make me say anything I didn't want to."

She nodded, some of the color returning to her face. "All right. We'll meet back at the Musain after we all disperse for class and then head back to Combeferre and I's apartment. That sound all right?"

"Don't ask me. If that's what we're doing then say so." Grantaire stated.

"I am asking for your opinion." Enjolras explained.

"I don't have an opinion." Grantaire said.

"This is why you infuriate me, Grantaire. Sometimes, I wish you would just go and make up your mind. Go ask Combeferre." Enjolras dismissed.

A bit a hurt started in his heart. He and Enjolras were doing so well and here she was going to Combeferre once again. He had to admit, he felt a burst of jealousy as well. Combeferre was so perfect and he definitely wasn't. But he still did as Enjolras asked and relayed the information.

"Yes, that seems fine. Why did she want my opinion?" Combeferre asked.

"I don't know. You're Mr. Perfect." Grantaire muttered mutinously.

"Pardon?" Combeferre tried.

"Just talking to myself. Ignore me." Grantaire replied, knowing calling him Mr. Perfect today was probably a bad thing.

"Combeferre says its fine. I'll tell the others." Grantaire said testily, trying to limit his time with Enjolras. Not because he didn't like her but because he didn't want to earn her wrath today. Today was going too well with her.

Grantaire spent the last hour just taking pictures of everyone who wanted them, passing them off to Joly, and helping as much as he could. He did have a really good time and even though sometimes the smiles people gave him were obviously fake, he didn't care. Wednesdays were usually for work but Emma gave him today off as she knew that he would be very busy today with the event and subsequent meeting. Also, Emma knew of the date and was anxiously waiting for the results.

Finally, the tables were taken down, the surplus shirts collected and the markers were capped. Another very successful rally. Enjolras would be so proud of her little movement. No one would remember after a week but it would be nice while it lasted. Also, he could paint on the shirt so he could use it again. But they all gathered at the Musain at seven as per usual, so they could all report back.

Joly reported giving out more flyers than he had and needed to send Musichetta down to make more, Bousset and Musichetta talked about how explaining their words allowed a lot of other people to get deep into themselves to find their words. Jehan told of how many people he told of the Amis and all the events they had planned for the month and near future. Marius, Cosette and Eponine gave a quick speech about getting worried about running out and said they only had thirty extras, of which some were subsequently passed around to those who needed extra shirts (Eponine, Jehan, Grantaire and Feuilly) and the rest would be donated to whatever charity was on Enjolras's mind now. Bahorel and Combeferre described that nobody got too rowdy as others have in the past and no one even needed throwing out. (Enjolras ignored that Bahorel was slightly disappointed with this.) Grantaire spoke of taking hundreds of pictures to be combed through and posted. Enjolras dictated that she had secured much more faculty support for the Amis and had a prospective faculty advisor to replace Larmarque. Overall, a very good rally.

So the business part of the meeting over, they all piled into their cars and drove over to Enjolras and Combeferre's apartment. Eponine hitched with him.

"You know we need more than just stalker pictures of Enjolras." Eponine teased.

"I have plenty of pictures of you, my darling." Grantaire responded, trying to make his voice similar to a creepy stalker.

Eponine shrieked. "Oh shut up!"

"In all honesty, I do have many pictures of everyone else." Grantaire added.

"Where is the camera?" Eponine noticed.

"With Musichetta. And I have the memory card." Grantaire said, and at the next stoplight, he fished it out of his pocket.

"You didn't get any selfies did you?" Eponine accused.

"No. Most people on camera duty don't." Grantaire dismissed, placing the memory card in his glove box so it would be safe.

"And that has nothing to do with body dysphoria?" Eponine chided.

"Not today. Maybe a couple years ago but not today." He answered honestly.

Eponine nodded, satisfied.

"So when are you and Enjolras going out?" Eponine asked nonchalantly.

"Who told you?" Grantaire shrieked, his heart starting to hammer in his chest.

"You just did." Eponine grinned like a cat who caught the canary.

"Ep, please, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone. She wants to see where it goes without anyone interfering." Grantaire pleaded.

"Relax, I won't give you away. I just wanted to check." Eponine smiled.

"How could you tell?" Grantaire asked.

"Everybody knows somethings up. Combeferre keeps saying it's because you met her parents and helped her with Larmarque but everyone knows there's something different about you two. All I had to do was guess." Eponine shrugged.

"Seriously, Ep, she wants to keep this quiet." Grantaire repeated.

"I got that in that _you_'ve managed to keep this quiet. I remember a night when you waxed poetic beautifully, drunk off your ass about her ass. Now seriously, when are you going out?" Eponine pressed.

"This Friday." He admitted.

"Dammit! You couldn't put it off for another two weeks?" She demanded.

"No, we couldn't. Who wins the betting pool with this?" He asked.

"Um, I think, Jehan has this week. Don't quote me on that though." She shrugged.

"Wait, how could you guys bet on us? We've been doing this for three years. You can't have bet three years and however many weeks when you guys first started." Grantaire stated.

"Naw, every few months and you two are still fighting we clean the slate and try again." She answered.

"We weren't fighting. We just weren't dating." He picked.

Eponine rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, R."

He pulled up to Enjolras's apartment and parked.

"I'm serious, Eponine. Don't tell anyone." He insisted.

"Who else knows?" She asked.

"You, me, Enjolras and Combeferre." He replied.

She nodded. "All right. I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Thanks." He muttered.

They climbed out of his Element and headed upstairs. Everyone gathered in a circle, as they usually did, and he plopped down in between where Feuilly and Combeferre would sit. They didn't have an arrangement or anything, but they sat next to the same people every time if they could. It was simply routine. Bahorel and Feuilly soon arrived with two twelve packs, which meant about five were up for grabs since Enjolras didn't drink and Combeferre never had more than one. So maybe he could steal two or three before the others noticed. After the two beers a piece were passed around, they all sat in silence.

"Someone has to start." Eponine said eventually.

The few people who looked to him got a head shake. He wasn't going first. Not if he could help it.

"Well, I guess I can start since I have an obvious word. I've grown up with a very overprotective loving father who never wanted me to experience the negative parts of live. So that's why I chose Naïve. I'm not proud of being so ignorant." Cosette started. Then everyone looked at Marius because they did usually go in a circle.

"Um, me now? All right. I chose Abandonment because when I was born my dad left. And I hate it." Marius said quietly.

Eponine sat next to him and sighed. "Okay, so I chose Trust Issues because I don't trust people because of what happened to me. And it's embarrassing to me."

Musichetta was next.

"My family keeps waiting for me to drop out. It's not that they think I'm stupid, but my parents didn't graduate high school and my sisters did just barely. The fact that I made it to college is beyond them. They're proud and they'll support me but no one in my family has ever done anything like this. We don't put much stock in academics. My parents get by and they're satisfied with that. And my sisters married and their husbands work so they don't need to. So everyone keeps expecting me to come home after I've quit school and get a minimum wage job until I get married and become a stay-at-home mom. So my family has Low Expectations for me. And I'm ashamed of it."

"So mine's, well, I think mine's obvious too. I have the worst luck of anyone and I'm bad luck myself sometimes. Hence, Jinx." Bousset shrugged.

"I'm a hypochondriac. I hate it. What else is there to say?" Joly said.

"All right, I'm next. Well, I'm not proud of constantly getting into bar fights. I have a short temper and I love it when fists start to fly. And I'm damn good, I can hold my own. I'm proud of that. But usually getting bloodied and getting banned from bars or genuinely hurting the other person over some stupid comment? That I'm not so proud of. So I'm Violent." Bahorel explained.

"I couldn't read or write for many years before I came to this country for a better life. Because I taught myself, I made a lot of mistakes and I don't think I'm fluent in this language even now. It's embarrassing and stupid and I can't believe I ever made it to college. I'm ashamed of being Illiterate." Feuilly spoke.

Silence for a few minutes. He could feel them staring at him. He hated this. He wasn't sure that he really wanted to say this. But in a way he did. Just telling Enjolras felt good. He really wanted to say something. But he hated everyone looking at him as if they expected the answer. His mouth was dry and there was something caught in his throat and he felt embarrassment and guilt building up in the pit of his stomach.

"I decided to go with this because I'm not good enough sometimes. To me, to keeping Enjolras alive sometimes, the girl I had a huge crush on freshman year-"

"You never told me about that!" Enjolras demanded, smiling a bit.

"Well, she was way outta my league and she likes someone else. Now be quiet." Combeferre answered dutifully.

"Sorry for interrupting." Enjolras blushed.

"Anyways, now I know I'm talented in many ways but I was never good enough for her. And sometimes I'm not good enough for me. So I chose Inadequate." Combeferre stated.

"Yeah, well, whoever turns you down is a capitalist conservative idiot." Enjolras added, using the greatest insult she had.

"Your turn." Combeferre nudged, gently.

"Well, I chose Cruel because I am cruel. With my words. And if anybody doubts this remember most of my early conversations with Grantaire. And some of the more recent ones too. It's not something to be proud of and I'm ashamed I once was. I need to learn who I need to be cruel to and temper myself to those I don't." Enjolras said beautifully. Sometimes the way she spoke in her speeches bled into her normal phonetics. It reminded him of just how beautiful her mouth was.

"I was diagnosed in college, freshman year but I think I've had it since junior year of high school. I always thought I'd be happy if other people were happy around me but when that suddenly stopped working I didn't want people to worry. So I kept up the façade of being happy all the time. And for some reason that made other people happy. Since I didn't want anyone to feel the way I did, I kept it up. Feeling this way is probably the worst thing I've ever experienced. The days early on freshman year when I kept getting 'sick'? I just couldn't get out of bed. But I've been going to the counsellors for three years and I'm better. I'm much better. But it's still embarrassing to admit I have this. There's so much stigma against people with mental disorders and I've had a great life. Rich parents who loved me, lots of wonderful friends, lots of great sex, and incredible opportunities denied many people. I was never deprived, never abused, and never bullied. So to 'normal society', I have no reason to be depressed. But for some reason, serotonin stopped running around in my brain. I hate it. I hate being Depressed." Courfeyrac spat.

The room was silent again. Jehan embraced Courfeyrac on the right and Enjolras patted his left shoulder awkwardly. However, they all spoke Enjolras (even oblivious little Marius) and that was supposed to comfort him. Courfeyrac smiled at her and when Jehan pulled away, he took a deep breath and nodded at Jehan.

"I grew up in a terrible neighborhood. Lots of drugs. Ecstasy especially. All my friends did drugs and they told me it would help with my poetry. So I tried it. And I got hooked. It did help my poetry, at the time. But then I spent more time getting high and less writing. Eventually, when I was sober, I submitted a poetry portfolio to a scholarship program. Most of the poems I wrote when I was sober. A couple I wrote when I was high. Thankfully, the ones that were good outshined the ones that weren't. When they reviewed it, they told me that I was incredible, blah, blah, blah but they hated certain ones because they felt they shouldn't have been included. I got the scholarship, as I've told you but all the ones they said shouldn't have been included I wrote when I was high. I finally realized what it was doing to me, seeing my poetry was a wake-up call to the rest of my life, and I got myself clean. It was hard, the hardest thing I've ever done, but it was worth it. But then I came here and the hardest thing anybody in college seems to have tried is marijuana. So I'm embarrassed that I was a Pill Popping Poet and that I need to fight every day to keep myself clean."

That was everyone. Deciding if he didn't do it now, he never would so he forced his mouth open and started talking.

"Originally, I was going to go with alcoholic. It was an easy out. But after that little display with my mother, I figured I owe you guys some sort of explanation." He started.

"You don't owe us anything, R." Courfeyrac piped up. He got many nods and affirmations.

"Well, it's about time I told you guys anyways. I'm a post-op transgender. I was born René Elise Grantaire and my family and town didn't accept me as you guys have. So when I was sixteen, I ran away with whatever I could get my hands on, started over in a new town, entered an art contest and you all know the rest. I changed when I was eighteen and I began introducing myself as a male. It felt good. But there're still a lot of people who refuse to accept me, like my parents. But today I'm taking back the slur I hated so long ago. It's a part of me, a part I accepted and now I like to think I'm better for it. I'm a **Tranny **and proud of it. But I don't think I'm proud enough to have it be known with everybody we know." Grantaire replied. "Any questions?"

A few hands shot up.

"Yes, my parents named me R Grand R. They thought it was clever. Anybody else?" He groaned.

Courfeyrac's hand slowly went down.

"Yes, Jehan?" Grantaire called on.

"Didn't your mom say something about your brother dying?" Jehan asked quietly.

"Yeah. Apparently my brother Rémy died. He's not worth mourning, in my opinion. I don't consider any of those people my family really. You guys were more my family than they ever were." He answered honestly.

"Why did your mom get so angry at you? When she… ya know." Marius trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the question.

"You mean why did she hit me? Ask Eponine." Grantaire replied.

Suddenly, Marius turned to Eponine, as if expecting something. Eponine squirmed under his intense gaze.

"I meant compare my situation to what you know of hers." Grantaire groaned loudly.

Marius blushed, nodded then ducked his head, mumbling apologies under his breath.

"Anyone else?"

"Why lie?" Musichetta asked, her voice gentle and compassionate.

"I wasn't ready to tell anyone when I first joined and then by the time I grew to care for you guys I thought it was too late. That I was trapped in saying I was disowned forever. But I didn't mind. Now that I'm who I was meant to be, starting over seemed to be the best thing. I didn't expect my parents to find me after five years." He responded.

They all nodded.

"Why did you run away?" Marius inquired.

"That I'm not answering." Grantaire stated, a bit darkly.

There was a thick silence that followed. It seemed his friends had run out of questions and/or lost their nerve to ask.

"What movie do we want to watch?" Jehan asked loudly, relieving some of the emotional tension in the room.

"What's on Netflix?" Bahorel countered.

A laptop was fetched, Combeferre's, and Courfeyrac's Netflix was retrieved. They all knew the password as he gave them all access to it since he really didn't care which was very nice. They all crowded around Courfeyrac who was scrolling through the choices. Soon, it was decided that Breakfast Club was the perfect way to end the night. They hooked Combeferre's laptop up to his TV and they all snuggled together. Joly, Bousset, and Musichetta all took the right end of floor with the couch at their back. Marius and Cosette did with the left and Eponine was on Cosette's other side. Feuilly and Bahorel took the arm chairs, and Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras and himself took the couch. He wasn't sure why he got the couch, usually Jehan got that spot and he simply rested against whatever he could find. And normally, Enjolras was squeezed in between Combeferre and Courfeyrac. However, this time, Combeferre was on the edge and Jehan was snuggled into Courfeyrac's legs. Enjolras stealthily squeezed his hand and he understood. She had wanted to sit next to him. This week was just getting better and better. He could almost forget now that his mother had somehow found him. He didn't have to care. His friends accepted his past, at least the parts they knew of, and they didn't seem to care. It didn't bother them that he was a transgender. And Enjolras was cuddling with him as much as Enjolras cuddled. He felt like he could do anything. This is what pure happiness felt like. Since everyone had already seen the movie, they'd all watched it together about four times including this one, it seemed more of an excuse to snuggle and allow themselves to calm down with the familiar jokes and monologues. About halfway through the movie, he felt Enjolras leaning heavily on him and her head dropped on his shoulder. When he looked down, she seemed extremely content.

"Enjolras, get your legs off my head." Eponine snapped and everyone giggled.

"Sorry, Eponine." Enjolras pulled her legs up and Courfeyrac took the opportunity to grab them and place her feet in his lap.

Grantaire looked at Courfeyrac and Courfeyrac merely wagged his eyebrows at him suggestively. Grantaire rolled his eyes. Courfeyrac smirked cheekily. Enjolras gave him a good whack to the chest. Courfeyrac hung his head and went back to watching the movie. Grantaire squeezed her hand quickly. He could feel her smug smirk.

When simple minds didn't want the audience to forget about them, no one moved. By this time, everyone was half-asleep.

"Impromptu sleepover?" Jehan asked.

Everyone assented through mumbles.

Combeferre got up, stretched and got all the extra pillows and blankets. He passed them out and everyone got comfortable with these new additions. Everyone just seemed to relax. There was no need for words, since everyone was on the verge of sleep. It was pretty early for them, but the heavy air was a sedative, encouraging their eyelids to close, pulling them under the sea of sleep, waxing poetically the beauty of dreams. No one cared that sleeping on the floor probably wasn't the most comfortable, they were all fine where they were. He felt incredible as the couch was much more comfortable than the floor. The music of the menu screen sent him quickly to sleep.

"Aw, look, they're so cute." He heard a female's voice say. It was soft, sweet, like a lark. His eyes were made of lead, too heavy to even think of lifting. There was another thing that breathed on his side but he could feel the warmth and comfort from whatever it was' heartbeat. It calmed him and the voices seemed to dull in comparison. Everything seemed so serene.

"I can't believe she's actually been asleep this long. She never does this." A man's. Playful and joyous. Familiar but his mind didn't bother associating it to a face, waiting for sleep to descend once more.

"No, she barely slept at all last night. He brought her back about twelve thirty and she was on fire. I don't think she even went to bed until about three. She needs the sleep. Besides, we woke up early for one of our nights together since we all passed out at only eleven." Another man's. Different. Sturdy and strong but kind and gentle.

He heard a couple clicks.

"Jehan! She is going to kill you when she finds out you took pictures. He will too." The first man again. His voice was worried but stifling laughter.

"They don't need to know. Besides, all I have to do is not send them to our two little lovebirds." A beautiful voice. A voice that flows like written words on the page.

"They're not lovebirds. She probably thinks its Combeferre. He usually sits there." A second female. Harsher than before. A battle-hardened voice.

"Oh yeah your right. Why didn't you sit there? Usually we can't pry you two apart." The songbird's voice.

"More her than me. She heard more of the story than we did. How she convinced him to trust her, I don't know, but she wanted to show that she didn't care about his previous sex. That he was Grantaire and that was that. So she decided to sit next to him. I just went along with it." There was amusement galore in the sturdy voice.

"Well, for Enjolras, somehow that makes sense." The lark again, giggling gently.

Enjolras. That explained the heartbeat. Consciousness was gradually returning to him, breaking the serenity of existing out of time and space. His peace shattered, he moaned and shifted. Or at least, he tried to. It seemed Enjolras now had a personal teddy bear to snuggle into. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. Her golden crown was nestled into his shoulder, her face gentle and relaxed, her arms wrapped around his waist, her legs tucked against his thighs. It seemed she had moved during the night.

"Is it possible to get her off?" Grantaire groaned, his voice husky from sleep.

"Why? She's so comfortable, and we all know she doesn't sleep this long. Do you really have to get up?" Courfeyrac asked.

"I guess not. But soon I will need to." Grantaire emphasized and Courfeyrac smiled. "By the way, I heard those little clicks of the camera Jehan. Destroy those."

"Never. You two are just too cute. Besides, I already sent them to everyone. Too late." Jehan chirped.

"When Enjolras does wake up, she's going to destroy you." Grantaire threatened.

"That would mean knowing they exist. She's still asleep." Jehan smirked.

"I can tell her and get someone else's phone to prove it." Grantaire deadpanned.

Jehan's smirk dropped. "Well, I can't un-send it."

"Just delete the pictures." Grantaire said, and it became clear that he would need to get Enjolras off.

So the one arm that had escaped the octopus that was Enjolras freed the other one and he maneuvered his arms under her back and knees. Slowly, softly, he stood with Enjolras still tucked into his chest and he stepped quietly over the still sleeping Bousset, Joly, and Marius. He used his hips to nudge open her door and he carried her over to her bed and placed her under the covers. He unwrapped the tentacles of Enjolras's limbs around him which, of course, caused her to snap awake and give him a tired smile.

"Morning. Why are you in my room? Wait, why am I in my room? Oh my god, it's nine thirty, I way overslept. I need coffee, stat." Enjolras said, going from tired to panicked in about thirty seconds.

She threw off the covers and stumbled her way into the kitchen where Combeferre was waiting with a steaming cup of coffee waiting for her.

"I knew you'd need it." Combeferre said, smiling gently.

"You're a lifesaver." Enjolras said, before blowing gently on it and taking a tentative sip. It seemed to be satisfactory for she took a much deeper drink before sighing contently. "Why is everyone staring at me?"

Everybody broke their gazes concurrently, looking ashamed. Enjolras blinked slowly and frowned.

"'Ferre, why is everyone now looking at their shoes?" Enjolras asked bluntly.

"You were asleep for a long time." Combeferre supplied.

"Ugh. As much as Grantaire likes to say differently, I am a human being with a brain that does need to be turned off occasionally. I do sleep, I am not a vampire." Enjolras defended.

"Aw, great, you read Twilight to see how bad it is?" Courfeyrac asked giddily.

"No, I read Dracula." Enjolras snapped back.

"The original?" Courfeyrac questioned.

"Novelizations of different movies do not make them rewritten books of the original. And yes I read the original, of course." Enjolras argued.

"Okay, that makes more sense." Courfeyrac grinned.

Enjolras rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. She walked away from him and sat next to where Grantaire was. Courfeyrac gasped and mouthed 'ooh'. Grantaire shot him a glare. That did nothing. Enjolras sent him a death glare followed by 'I will destroy you'. That sent Courfeyrac running to where Combeferre was making everyone breakfast.

"You got class today?" Grantaire inquired, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Not until two o'clock. You?" Enjolras replied.

"Same but four not two. I usually sleep in on Thursdays." Grantaire responded.

They went back to the comfortable silence. But they could hear the loud gossip from the kitchen about them (mostly from Courfeyrac) and it tainted the silence.

"You wanna get outta here?" Grantaire asked, surprised by his own nerve.

Her harsh facial expression softened and she nodded. "Now?"

"In a sec." Suddenly, he yelled, "Combeferre can I borrow your shower?"

"Yes. The guest soap is the towel cabinet on top of the guest towel. Don't use mine." Combeferre shouted back.

"You got it." Grantaire exclaimed. "I'm gonna shower and then we'll head out. Gives you time to clean up too."

"Thanks." She stood and headed into her room and shut the door. He headed into the guest cabinet (which was a nice way of saying everybody else's stuff that had accumulated there over the years) and grabbed what he needed. He showered, shaved, and dressed. Granted it was in yesterday's clothes that he's slept in but they smelled fine and didn't look too bad. He stole some of Combeferre's deodorant and rubbed his hair as dry as the poor, abused towel would allow. He didn't look great but he seemed all right for just heading out for breakfast probably. When he got out, he saw Enjolras in Courfeyrac's best leather jacket that he thought was in the closet, a white tank, a denim mini-skirt (which he didn't even know Enjolras owned), and black boots. She had her hair up in its usual black ribbon and that seemed to be the only thing that was hers in her outfit.

"What happened?" Grantaire asked, completely confused.

"Courfeyrac stole my jacket so I stole his, Eponine said I was to take her boots since they matched 'Fey's jacket and it seems everyone but him knows I stole it, and the skirt was found by Cosette when she decided my pants weren't good enough for said jacket though I'm pretty sure Eponine's responsible for that too. My parents bought it for me and this is the first time I've ever worn it." Enjolras explained.

"Well, would you like to go?" Grantaire tried.

Enjolras smiled. "There's nothing I'd like more."

* * *

**Holy shit. God I need to be studying right now. Seriously, I have a chem midterm tomorrow and I haven't begun studying because I was addicted to writing this. So I'll make this short. Leave a review please. Seriously. Please. I'm beginning to think no one reads this. Sorry for that. I'm also a bit sleep-deprived. My bad. Stupid school and me needing to do things. Well, good night, good luck and see you on the other side of the internet! (Okay, I think I'm going to stop doing that because it now sounds stupid.)**

**P.S. Link to website about how Enjolras and Grantaire (and any others requested) still up. Just send me something.**


	8. Chapter 8

"So what do you want to do?" Grantaire asked lightly once they were outside the apartment building.

"There's an exhibit at the Farragut I've been wanting to see. I just haven't had the time." Enjolras smiled.

"Sure. Why not?" Grantaire agreed.

"Wait, you hate museums." Enjolras protested.

"But you don't." Grantaire countered.

"I would assume we should do something we both enjoy." Enjolras stated.

"I enjoy you when you're happy. Much easier to get along with. Let's go see that exhibit." Grantaire decided.

The Farragut was a nearby museum of science, where many prominent people were on display for their inventions. It seemed this time the prominent inventor was Hedy Lamarr. He understood why Enjolras would want to see this. Hedy Lamarr was a famous actress, and inventor and he was pretty sure she was Jewish. Things Enjolras loved.

Enjolras bought their tickets to the exhibit before Grantaire could even open his mouth to protest. Sighing, he went inside with her. The exhibit was rather small, compared to what they did with Thomas Edison and Bill Gates. The pictures of her were from her movies and photoshoots and Enjolras was not happy.

"Why are they focusing on her movie career? She was a brilliant inventor, she pioneered Bluetooth and helped our military with her torpedo guidance system. Why is this the best they can do?" Enjolras fumed.

"Well, we don't know how many pictures of her there really are." Grantaire tried.

"No, I mean every invention they have for her is included by what movie she was working on at the time!" Enjolras hissed. "That's it. I'm finding the director."

She stormed off and he followed behind as quickly as he could, trying and failing to stop her. She went up to the information desk and asked for the director of the Hedy Lamarr exhibit. The man was near and she glared at him as he walked over. He was an older man, in his sixties at least, with white hair, a nice dress suit, shining shoes and a wrinkled face.

"Of course, it's a man. What else was I expecting?" Enjolras whispered under her breath.

"Excuse me?" The man asked.

"Why is her inventions dulled by her inconsequential movie career?" Enjolras commanded.

"I'm confused." The man trailed off.

"The Hedy Lamarr exhibit. Her movie career should not be the focus of this museum since it is a museum of science, not film. Also, it doesn't even mention that she was born Jewish even if it is debated that she later converted but she was born in Austria during the nineteen teens and during that time it was still dangerous for Jews, especially in that area. Why was that important fact not included?" Enjolras demanded.

"That fact is controversial." The man started.

"So was the fact that Edison electrocuted animals to disprove AC current and yet you included that." Enjolras snapped.

"That actually happened." The director tried.

"So did Hedy Lamarr's birth." Enjolras cut.

"All right. We're done. Security." The man shouted.

Knowing this could get ugly quickly, and Enjolras would never back down, Grantaire simply wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up before security could do that for him. He carried her out as quick as he could without dropping her.

"No, Grantaire, put me down, I'm not finished here, this man is sexist and is diminishing Hedy Lamarr's contributions to science!" Enjolras protested.

"Look, either I get you out or you get arrested again. And I'm not going to let that happen." Grantaire said as he opened the door and set her down.

"I wasn't going to get arrested. What could they arrest me on? I paid for the ticket, I was making a rightful complaint, and I was calling him out on his sexist agenda!" Enjolras tried to get back in but he was stronger than she was (thankfully).

"You really think he's not going to lie to the police at first? You were making a scene and he could very well say you were disturbing the peace. You want to fight back? Do something that won't get you arrested. Again." He added that last word hard, making her blush slightly.

"Nothings ever stuck because I've never done anything wrong." Enjolras muttered.

"And because you're a law student and have three other law students as your friends has nothing to do with it." Grantaire quipped.

She glared at him.

"Just walk with me. See if you can calm down so you can get a clear head." Grantaire offered.

Enjolras sighed. "Oh all right. Fine. But this fight is not over."

"I would hope not." Grantaire smiled at her.

She nodded and stalked off in one direction. His stomach growled and he remembered they skipped breakfast.

"C'mon. Let's get some food." He said as he caught up to her.

They walked in silence until they found a cupcake café.

"Hey I've heard about these. They make regular food and stuff but they specialize in cupcakes." Grantaire grinned.

"Why?" Enjolras asked.

"Because cupcakes are delicious and a great treat." Grantaire stated.

"But why specialize? It's not like cupcakes are food delicacies." Enjolras inquired.

"Have you ever had a cupcake?" Grantaire asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Yes, of course. At birthday parties when I was younger and occasionally when I come across an event that serves them." Enjolras said.

"We need to rectify this atrocity. Cupcakes are great and I will not stand for this." Grantaire grabbed her hand and dragged her inside.

For some reason, she allowed it. The line was pretty short, as it was only about eleven thirty in the morning. This was before the lunch rush of twelve. They ordered sandwiches and a good dozen cupcakes, and he even slipped in a thirteenth cupcake that looked fantastic- a churro cupcake- so Enjolras wouldn't notice. And just like before, Enjolras paid but at least Grantaire could argue a bit. But unfortunately, she had him when she reminded him he didn't get paid until tomorrow. So with a certain air of arrogance, she handed her card to the register lady. It would be a bit of a wait, but they didn't mind. They had a couple hours.

"Grantaire, why did you get into art?" Enjolras asked suddenly, breaking the relaxed silence they had fallen into.

"What do you mean?" He replied.

"I mean, there must have been plenty of things you could've done. Why art? Why not math or science or literature?" She clarified.

"Well, art class was my sanctuary. My teacher didn't care if I stayed and painted at recess and lunch and after school. She was glad anyone was paying attention in her class. Usually nobody did. So when I actually showed interest, she ignored the fact that I wasn't "acting like" my right gender and encouraged me. And my parents were glad that I had a female mentor and hoped it would help straighten me out. But once she got me involved, I was hooked. I've used art to express myself ever since." He explained.

She nodded at him.

"Why did you ask?" He countered.

"Well, you know why I want to become a lawyer. So I wanted to know why you wanted to become an artist." She said.

"I think mine is a little less tragic." He teased.

"Yes. I'm glad. I was expecting another long, sad story that made me understand another part of you." She snarked.

"Oh well I could make something up to pass the time." He winked.

She laughed and then they got their food.

"Hey they gave us an extra one." She chirped.

"No they didn't, I ordered it. It's a churro cupcake and I wanted to try it. It looks delicious." He grinned.

"Well, I want to try it too." She protested.

"I ordered it." He defended.

"I paid for it." She countered.

He frowned, his shoulder's slumping. "I got an idea. You take one bite, I take one bite, and then we split the rest."

"Fine." She said, grabbing the cupcake and chomping on it in a huge bite.

"You stole most of my cupcake!" He growled.

"I did not. I took a fair bite." She defended.

"Did not." He muttered mutinously.

He took the cupcake back and looked at the tiny thing. He took a bite that he thought was justified and went in for another.

"Share! I want another bite. It was delicious." Enjolras protested.

"It's mine!" Grantaire growled.

"I want another bite." Enjolras pushed.

"So do I. There's not much left thanks to you." Grantaire snapped.

"You said we'd share it." She reminded him.

So he decided to be cute, and put half of the remaining bit in his mouth. "Try it."

She narrowed her eyes at him and leaned forward and closed her mouth around the half sticking out. Completely shocked at her behavior, he froze. He never would've thought Enjolras would do such a thing. She bit down and pulled back, smirking smugly. He must have sat there for a minute after she finished chewing because she had to snap in front of him to get his attention. He finished chewing and swallowed slowly.

"You're staring." Enjolras stated.

He shook his head to clear his head. "Sorry. But that was not something I'd ever thought you'd do. I thought the cupcake was mine."

"I do like to surprise you all now and then." She winked and he chuckled.

They dived into their sandwiches after that.

"So, I just realized something." Enjolras said, after swallowing of course.

"What?" He asked.

"I could've just bought another cupcake. That was really wasn't necessary." She stated slowly, blushing.

They both seemed to stop breathing for a moment, and when they looked at each other once more they couldn't contain it and burst out laughing. Tears came to his eyes and his stomach hurt by the time he managed to get his laughter under control. She seemed to be in the same boat.

They spent the next few minutes just eating to try and calm themselves down. Once the sandwiches were gone, they dived into the cupcakes.

"I still think bacon and mac and cheese cupcakes are gross." Enjolras said, finally free of the giggles she couldn't shake for a while.

"Well red velvet and lemon are boring." Grantaire shot back.

"I'm a bit of a boring person, Grantaire." Enjolras shrugged.

"No you're not. Boring people don't call out museum directors for being sexist or host White T-Shirt events. You're passionate, not boring." He corrected.

"Then I guess I have boring taste." She amended.

"So now _I'm_ boring?" He asked, affronted.

"Of course not. You're passionless, not boring." She said.

"Some people would say that's the same thing." He stated.

"I don't think so. There's something out there you believe in. I just have to find it." She replied.

"I believe in you." He remarked.

She went silent and still for a moment, as if appreciating his words physically. Then she smiled softly and nodded.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"Here, it's almost twelve thirty. I should take you home, you have class you need to get to." He sighed, almost not wanting this little excursion to end.

She nodded but lost her smile. They got a second box so Grantaire could take his 'icky' cupcakes home (and away from Enjolras) and headed home.

"I really liked this." He smiled.

"So did I." She murmured, her voice giving off vibes of contentment. They walked in silence for a bit while Enjolras seemed to be deliberating on something. "Was… this a date?"

"Um, do you want this to be?" He managed, his throat almost choking on his fear.

She thought for a minute, making his heart pound harder and stop his breath.

"Yes." She said and he could breathe again. His heart was singing again.

"I didn't go on those stupid websites for nothing." She muttered under her breath but he still caught it.

"What? What was that?" He shouted, putting his hand behind his ear.

She blushed furiously but said nothing.

"I can't hear you!" He called, smirking proudly.

"All right! When you were in the shower, I googled what to do on a first date. It was my first one in five years, and I didn't want to screw it up!" She admitted.

But he didn't laugh. He thought it was hilarious and so perfectly Enjolras but he didn't laugh. He just looked her right in the eyes, her brilliant electric blue eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul, and he smiled. Usually her eyes were flashes of lighting, powerful and punishing, but when he looked into them today there was nothing but kindness. He found he rather liked her looking at him like this.

"May I kiss you?" He asked, using the confidence he got from her tender stare.

She nodded slowly and he cupped her cheek dotingly before bringing his lips to hers. His nerves exploded with sensation as he kissed her, chastely and innocently, and he wrapped his arm around her, bringing her body closer. He felt her arms around his shoulders, stooping him slightly, helping with the height difference. Sensations he never imagined filled his consciousness and his senses became alive with acuity. Her lips were slightly chapped, and he could still taste the last cupcake she'd eaten- vanilla with peppermint frosting. Their noses bumped a bit as she was trying to explore more into the kiss. A light scent of lilac perfume teased at his sense of smell and he grinned. She'd put on a dab of perfume for this, something she'd never done before in his memory. She nipped at his lower lip playfully and he moved his hand from her jaw to her hair. She shivered slightly but pulled away, breathless. He opened his eyes when he realized they were closed and smiled at her.

"That was nice." She murmured.

He nodded, unable to form coherent words. Inside fireworks were still going off and he couldn't stop them. Actually he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wanted to remember what Enjolras's lips felt like for all eternity.

"We should do that again." She said and she pressed forward to kiss him once more.

This one was different, it was more intense but still playful. She seemed more invigorated and captivated by it this time. She seemed to press herself closer to him and then dragged her teeth across his lower lip. He shuddered and took control from her. He felt her fight back by running her nails across his shoulders. So he relaxed and she took over. His hands started gently running up and down her back, and he felt her smile against him. He stopped it this time, before giving her a quick peck before he fully pulled back, smiling at her. She returned the smile and hugged him. He embraced her until her phone went off in Courfeyrac's jacket pocket. She fished it out of the huge leather monstrosity and frowned.

"That was Combeferre. Class is in an hour and I have to brush up on my reading. I have to go." She sighed.

He nodded and dropped his arms. Life seemed to rush back around them, the sounds of the busy street now flooding his ears as if him tuning it out made it all the louder.

"See you tomorrow." She stated and turned and started heading home.

He just smiled at her and caught up quickly, sneaking his hand into hers as she walked.

"What?" She asked but didn't let go.

"All my stuff is still at your place. Including my car." He chuckled.

She snickered until it turned into a full-blown euphony of delightful laughter. He couldn't help but join in as they walked. Thankfully, they hadn't gotten that far on their date.

"God, I feel like we're living in one of those romantic comedy drivels that Courfeyrac makes me watch all the time." She giggled, visibly trying to calm herself down.

"Well, let's see. A romantic comedy usually provides a victory of love against all odds, usually. The only odd against us is the fact that we can't stand each other's political views so I don't think so." He shrugged.

"About that, I want to make a rule." She said, biting her lip. Either her lips were much more chapped than before or she wasn't sure about something.

"Go on." He prompted.

"I don't want to talk about politics when we're not in meetings or something of the like. I can tell I embarrassed you earlier today and I'd rather not repeat that. I've really enjoyed this." She stated.

"You didn't embarrass me. I promise. But if you got arrested while I was with you, Combeferre would do something awful to me and I'm scared of that. Also, I'd really not be cool with you being in jail. I really enjoyed this too. And I think the rule is a good rule. We fight too much for that." He agreed.

"Are you sure I didn't embarrass you?" She pressed.

"Yes, I'm positive you didn't. Enjolras, you're always going to be off fighting for people who can't fight for themselves. I will be there for you as much as you need me to be and I believe in you. However, if you show up in something like the way you did when you were nearly dying from pneumonia that's a different story." He teased.

Most Amis remembered that day because Enjolras passed out from the table she'd climbed on top of to give her usual speech. Thankfully Combeferre was right behind and took her to the hospital. But he also remembered her 'get-up' that day. She was so sick that she didn't really realize that she left the house and actually went out wearing Courfeyrac's purple college sweatshirt which was about three sizes too big, flower patterned pants that must have come from Jehan, flip-flops, and a neon green turtleneck underneath. Once she'd gotten better, they'd teased her about it.

"I was sick! Legally, I was not responsible for my actions!" She said as she opened the door to her building.

"_Someone_ was." He teased.

"I have no comment on the matter." She shot back, sniggering.

He opened her door for her, it wasn't locked per usual, and she entered smiling uncontrollably.

He felt very satisfied about that.

"Hey! You stole my jacket! And seriously you two you've been acting so strange lately and now you're taking him out- oh my God you two are holding hands!" Courfeyrac's voice rang out, deafening the whole apartment as he squealed. Enjolras snapped her hand back as if she was touching a hot plate but her face betrayed her by blushing. Jehan was there too and he immediately set upon them both with a vengeance.

"You two are so cute! Oh we've said this for so long! I'm so glad you two finally realized-" Jehan gushed, thankfully being interrupted by Enjolras ripping off Courfeyrac's jacket and throwing it at the duo.

"Everyone calm down!" She commanded.

"Hey be careful with that! This jacket is my pride and glory!" Courfeyrac protested.

"Where's mine?" She demanded.

"In the closet. I hung it up there when you left." Courfeyrac said, gently caressing the leather and smoothing out any crinkle he might find.

Combeferre then appeared with said jacket and handed it to Enjolras, along with her History of Law textbook.

"So how did the date go?" Combeferre asked mildly.

Enjolras frowned in confusion. "How did you know it was a date? We only just decided that a few minutes ago."

Then she seemed to realize what she'd said. She groaned and stormed into her room, slamming the door.

"You two _are_ dating! I knew it! Finally get enough courage to say 'I love you' to her, R?" Jehan smiled.

"Of course not! Guys, she really wanted to keep you guys out of it. You two especially! And we've been on one date. That doesn't mean we're dating and that doesn't mean it's any of your business!" He berated as he motioned for the two to follow him outside. He continued his rant until he got them outside with the door safely shut. "Yes it was amazing I love her."

Jehan cooed and hugged Grantaire tightly. Courfeyrac joined in a second later. He smiled brightly as the two detached themselves from him.

"How was it?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Very Enjolras. And since I respect her, that's all I'm going to say." Grantaire answered.

"Fair enough. But I'm writing you two poetry and it's going to be romantic and amazing." Jehan promised.

"Show it to Enjolras and she might rip up your notebooks." Grantaire threatened.

"Ah, but she can only do that if she knows where they are. It's a secret." Jehan smirked.

"They're under your bed." Grantaire deadpanned.

"Well, where I move them will be a secret." Jehan tried.

"Moving them to your closet won't help." Grantaire said.

Jehan frowned.

"You can keep them at my place." Courfeyrac offered.

"I'd just tell her." Grantaire shrugged.

"I'm still writing the poetry but I'll wait until you two progress farther." Jehan sighed.

Knowing that was the best he was going to get with his friend, he nodded.

"Now, I know you two have the same class, Courfeyrac, so either hightail it to school or I'll kick you there. And don't tell the others. When Enjolras is ready, we'll tell them. Not before." Grantaire pressed.

"Dude, everybody already knows that something is up. And Enjolras is terrible at hiding things. So tell them soon." Courfeyrac shrugged.

"Also, this is my week for the pool! Let me win because I was right!" Jehan added.

Grantaire's phoned buzzed. It was a text from Enjolras.

**Enjolras**: This changes nothing. We're still on for tomorrow.

He smiled at his phone and closed the message before those two nosy twerps could see it.

"That was from her! Oh you two are so cute!" Jehan cooed.

The smile disappeared. A glare formed.

"Look, you two are like the Romeo and Juliet of the group." Courfeyrac shrugged.

"Six people died in that play." Grantaire deadpanned.

"Well, that won't happen. Maybe you two could be the Duke and Viola." Jehan mused.

"Stop comparing us to Shakespeare." Grantaire pleaded.

"Please let me text everyone! I already a great message written!" Courfeyrac begged.

Grantaire stole his phone and looked at it.

**Courfeyrac**: OMG E and R is go! Repeat E and R dating scene is go!

"That's stupid and childish. Very you but not what we're looking for. And as I said, it was just one. I don't know what the hell we're doing and I don't think she does either. So shut it and don't you dare send it. Otherwise, Enjolras will kill you." Grantaire glared.

Courfeyrac gulped and deleted the message. Grantaire nodded, satisfied. Then the door opened and Enjolras appeared. She had changed clothes, now wearing her usual red jacket, the same white tank, and regular jeans with a tan belt.

"I couldn't focus on my reading. Since _you_ ruined my good mood, _you_ will quiz me on what the book says while _you_ will drive me to school. Understand?" Enjolras growled, completely ignoring Grantaire and focusing solely on Courfeyrac who cowered under her wrathful gaze.

Courfeyrac nodded quickly. "Jehan you wanna ride with us?"

"He can ride with me. Go to class." Grantaire said and Courfeyrac fled down the stairs.

"Don't think this means you're off the hook either, Jehan." Enjolras spat and Jehan shrank before she headed down herself.

"Why are we all so scared of our leader?" Jehan squeaked out.

"Because she can be terrifying when she wants to be." Grantaire smiled.

"What's that for?" Jehan smirked.

"For once, that anger is not directed at me." Grantaire grinned happily.

"So are you actually going to take me home or are you going to leave me here?" Jehan asked.

"If I did, Combeferre is here. But no I'm not going to leave you here. Pretty sure Combeferre has work soon and that he doesn't have time to traipse around little poet snots who are way too nosy for their own good." Grantaire sneered.

"Am I dead? Are you going to kill me?" Jehan asked as Grantaire gathered up his stuff.

"Nah. Courfeyrac would kill _me_." Grantaire shook his head.

Jehan nodded, satisfied. They went downstairs after saying good-bye to Combeferre. When his phone buzzed as he got near his car, he tossed the keys to Jehan. For as loving as Jehan was, he was wicked behind the wheel. Everyone trusted him because he could probably drive backwards without any incidents. Also, Jehan was so careful when behind other's people's cars.

**Combeferre**: I'm sorry for ruining your secret.

**Grantaire**: Don't be. With me. Enjolras, yes. But I'm fine with it. I don't care. Whatever makes Enjolras happy.

**Combeferre**: Still. I didn't mean to.

**Grantaire**: She accepted your apology yet?

**Combeferre**: No but that won't last. She hardly ever actually gets mad and she can never stay mad. She just needs a bit of time to calm down and Courfeyrac will take a lot of that anger and frustration.

**Grantaire**: I feel so sorry for him. Hehe, no I don't. I'm quite glad she's not mad at me.

**Combeferre**: So how did the date go?

**Grantaire**: Well. She'll tell you the details.

**Combeferre**: All right. I've got to go. I have hospital in an hour. Talk to you later.

**Grantaire**: Bye.

Jehan drove himself home first and parked.

"Seriously though man, you gonna be okay with this? You two don't always exactly get along." Jehan said.

"We'll be okay. Even if I screw up, I can't imagine I'll screw up so bad that _everyone_ will hate me." Grantaire lied.

"Grantaire." Jehan whined.

"What? I'm just being realistic. I've never been good with romantic relationships." Grantaire said.

"Enjolras hasn't even had a romantic relationship. I think you're fine." Jehan protested.

_That's not true_, Grantaire thought but kept quiet.

Jehan sighed, and gave Grantaire a one-armed car hug before leaving. Grantaire drove home to change, get his books and sketch a bit before heading to class. He wanted to remember exactly what Enjolras's eyes look like today. Maybe another time he would do her whole body but for now he just wanted to remember her eyes. He spent about a couple of hours sketching, thankfully looking at the clock at the right time for him to head out. Class passed quickly and he went back home right after to finish his sketch of Enjolras's eyes. He kept sketching until he was satisfied. He finally finished about two a.m. and forced himself to go to bed. He had work at ten.

"Hey, R." Emma greeted him as he came in.

"Hey, Em. I thought Mark was supposed to come back today." Grantaire asked.

"Tomorrow. He's getting his stitches out today and the doctor wants him to take it easy on his hand today. But tomorrow he's all cleared." Emma answered.

"I see." Grantaire nodded and set to work. After the lunch rush, and they had a moment to themselves to clean the store, he asked, "Hey, do you mind if I take off ten minutes early?"

"Why?" Emma responded.

"Because I want to deposit my paycheck before my date tonight. I only have about three dollars in my account right now and I doubt Enjolras is that cheap a date." Grantaire explained.

"Oh yeah. Your first date with your blonde goddess." Emma teased.

"Second." Grantaire corrected.

"Second?" Emma grinned.

"Yeah. We had an impromptu date yesterday. It was nice." Grantaire smiled.

"Oh look at you! You're glowing like a preteen girl who just got her first kiss!" Emma laughed.

"Shush." Grantaire said petulantly. Saying 'shut up' to Emma could very well be highly dangerous.

"Yes, you can have the ten minutes. And you've got two bonuses this time so go all out." Emma chuckled.

"Two bonuses? I thought it was just the one from the hours Mark missed." Grantaire said.

"Hey, I told you that I'd give you a bonus if you ever got that bombshell to go out with you. I'm a woman of my word." Emma smiled.

Grantaire returned it and hugged her. "Thanks, Mom."

Emma glared at him.

"I'm not that old. No go clean the bathrooms."

After thanking Emma profusely for the money and making a quick trip to the bank, Grantaire pulled up to Enjolras's flat. He had eventually chosen a black t-shirt with a gray vest that draped down a bit with jeans that were a little torn but had the least paint on them. It was a nice night, but he knew Enjolras would be wearing her red jacket. He headed up the stairs and knocked. Combeferre answered.

"She's almost ready. I'm glad you're early. Let's talk." Combeferre smiled and Grantaire returned it shakily, somewhat terrified.

Combeferre led him to the couch and sat down.

"All right, I'll be blunt. I want her home by one at the latest, nothing further than second base and I don't care what she says she's not allowed to see horror movies." Combeferre stated.

"Yes, sir." Grantaire squeaked out.

Combeferre smiled. "I'm glad we understand one another."

Combeferre clapped him on the arm and knocked on Enjolras's door.

"Two seconds." Enjolras called out.

True to her word, she opened the door a little bit later. She wore a gray blouse with a white pattern, dark jeans with a maroon belt and maroon cuffs, black flats, and her hair had been straightened and she had it simply down. She looked gorgeous.

"You look wonderful." He managed.

She smiled. "Thank you. You look nice as well."

"All right you two. Get out and have fun." Combeferre nudged and Enjolras headed down to his car.

"Any specific restaurant you want?" Grantaire asked.

"Not particularly. There's a new burger joint next across to the movie theater." Enjolras offered.

"You know, sometimes, with your sophistication, I wonder why you chose a burger joint for a date." Grantaire murmured.

"Because I may be sophisticated but that doesn't mean I need to get a small salad. I refuse to hate myself because old rich white capitalists want me to so they can drive up prices of food and other necessities." Enjolras stated.

Grantaire smiled. That was his Enjolras.

The restaurant was crowded but not over-busy so they were sat pretty quickly. It was loud, but not overbearingly so.

"I didn't think this would be so busy." Enjolras frowned.

"Relax. This is fine." Grantaire smiled.

Enjolras nodded.

Their waitress found their table, chattered on while she took their drink orders and went on her way.

"She seemed dangerously perky." Enjolras noticed.

"She's probably been on duty for a long time and she's not allowed to stop smiling is more like it." Grantaire shrugged.

Enjolras cocked her head in confusion.

"You've never worked in customer service." Grantaire said.

"You're not allowed to stop smiling?" Enjolras asked quietly.

"Depending on what you're doing, no. There are jobs that you have to smile through getting screamed at for being incompetent. However, like at my job, I don't need to smile as long as I'm not rude." Grantaire stated.

"But why would you get screamed at? People are just trying to do their jobs as best as they can." Enjolras pouted.

"Well, people get frustrated. So when they get angry, they take it out on whoever they can and justify it by calling them incompetent." Grantaire shrugged.

Their waitress brought them their drinks, and took their orders.

"Are you sure there's nothing we can do to stop that kind of unfair treatment in the service industry?" Enjolras asked.

"We have a bigger problem with being paid. I specifically don't because I don't work for a chain. I work for Emma and Emma believes that anybody who can't survive on their one job needs to be paid more. So she pays us a good fifteen dollars per hour." Grantaire admitted.

"Yes, I've heard about that. But there's nothing to do about the cruel customers?" Enjolras pressed.

"People will always be mean to the people they think down on. Service workers will always be among those many people." Grantaire said.

Enjolras frowned.

"Relax. We all know what we're signing up for when we apply. And we make fun of everyone mean to our friends later on." Grantaire reassured.

Enjolras nodded.

"Here. Let's change the subject. What's your favorite band?" Grantaire tried.

"Abba." She stated.

"Should've known that." He muttered, grinning.

"Well, what's yours?" She asked.

"I don't have one. But if I had to choose, at this exact moment, then Bastille probably." He answered.

"Favorite song?" She inquired.

"At the moment, it's Uptown Funk. I blame Courfeyrac for that. What's yours?" He replied.

"Tie between Bohemian Rhapsody and Stairway to Heaven. Oh and American Pie is in there too." She added.

"What is with you and the corny seventies music?" He laughed.

"I happen to _like_ corny seventies music." She glowered at him, her voice deadly.

"Okay, moving on." He gulped. "How about your favorite color?"

"Amber, I suppose." She shrugged.

"Why?" He pressed.

"No real reason. I just think it's pretty. What's yours?" She responded.

"White. It always reminds me of a blank canvas and that nothing white is ever truly finished. Except in hospitals. I hate white in hospitals. That's a disgusting type of white." He answered.

"A disgusting type of white?" She asked.

"Yeah. Hospitals are colorless, passionless, dead. White is a color, though most people say it's not, it is. White is pure, untainted, symbolic. Hospital white is gross and always ends up reminding you that everybody dies and is usually surrounded by that awful white when they do." He shuddered.

Enjolras nodded. "Let's see, something nice, favorite movie?"

"Lord of the Rings trilogy. No, Star Wars. No, no, Lord of the Rings. Both." He chose.

"Neither of those are one movie." She said dryly.

"They are one movie basically. They're just really long." He defended.

"One." She insisted.

"All right, fine. Then I suppose, East of Eden." He shrugged.

"Really?" She sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I like James Dean, but I really like the story. And the scenery is beautiful." He replied.

She smiled gently.

"What about you? No wait, I know. Momma Mia." He guessed.

"Momma Mia is not my favorite movie." She said dryly.

"Really?" He asked.

"No." She thought for a minute. "Excluding documentaries?"

"Yes, excluding documentaries. Fiction movies." He groaned.

"Fine. Then I guess it would have to be the Sandlot." She decided.

"I never would've figured you to be a baseball movie person." He said.

"It's not the baseball I like about it." She answered.

"I see. What's your favorite animal? Mine's a dolphin." He asked.

"Why should I have a favorite animal?" She replied confusedly.

"You know what? Never mind. Favorite TV show?" He changed direction mid-thought.

"How it's Made." She replied.

"Really?" He found himself surprised.

"Yeah, I'm fascinated by it. I record it every time it's on." She said.

"What about MASH?" He asked.

"What _about_ MASH?" She repeated.

"Didn't you say that's a big thing with your family?" He tried.

"It is but it's not my favorite TV show." She stated. "What's yours?"

"Friends." He answered.

"And you say I'm corny." She teased.

"No, I'm serious. The love, the jokes, Phoebe and Joey, it reminds me so much of our friends. How I always wanted that growing up and now I have it." He pressed.

She smiled fondly.

There was a comfortable two minutes of silence. Then it was broken by a small child brokenly and extremely off-key singing Let it Go for a moment until his parents shushed him.

"What? Didn't you enjoy that little performance? I know your favorite Disney movie is Frozen." He stated.

"No it's not. I mean, I like Frozen, especially in the fact that Let it Go is such a powerful song and it means a lot to the queer community and I adore that Elsa is a metaphor for depression. It's wonderful that children can see that depression can even happen to someone with something as cool as ice powers but Frozen isn't my favorite." She replied.

"Then what is?" He asked, curious.

"Mary Poppins." She answered gently.

"Animated movie, I mean." He corrected.

"Including or excluding Pixar? Because those are two different answers." She pressed.

"Both." He shrugged.

"Let's see. Including Pixar, I guess, then Brave. I love the story and I always love Emma Thompson. Excluding, I think the Lion King." She decided.

"Of course, you would choose the one based on Shakespeare." He teased.

"What about you?" She shot back.

"Beauty and the Beast." He admitted, blushing.

She grinned at him. "I think that's wonderful."

"I mean, I just really like the songs and the characters are funny and the ugly guy gets the girl in the end, it's nice." He ducked his head, feeling the blush deepening.

"Favorite Disney song?" She asked, taking pity on him.

"Out There." He murmured.

"Mine's Colors of the Wind. It's always been inspirational to me and the melody is beautiful." She said, for a moment her voice changed to a bit more soft and soothing.

Then he was saved as their food arrived. He tore into his burger and got a thankful reprieve from his embarrassment. The talk slowed as they ate, so the blush finally receded and he finished quickly. Well, that and he really was hungry.

"Yeesh. You've inhaled it." She laughed.

He swallowed. "Was hungry."

"I can see that." She smirked.

The waitress came over with the check. Grantaire reached for his wallet.

"I thought we agreed I'd pay for this." Enjolras cut, snatching the black book away.

"Well, I could pay for my half." He tried.

"No. I'm the one with more money that can be spent. Paying for dates is easily slipped into my budget." She shrugged.

"Still, call me old-fashioned…" He trailed off.

"Fight the patriarchy." She grinned at him and held up the book with her card inside it. The waitress took it before he could do anything else.

"Fine. Then let me pay for the movie tickets." He offered, slightly desperate.

"Popcorn and that's the highest I'm going." She stated.

"Deal." He took her last offer. It was better than nothing.

"Why do you fight me so much on this?" She asked.

"It's the principle of the thing. I'm older," he ignored her interruption of "only by two months!", "I'm the man, and I was taught that the men should pay for the date. Doesn't matter how poor you are."

"But I still don't understand why you have to fight me. It's not like I'm hurting you." She frowned.

"I'm just used to things being a certain way. I've never dated a woman like you." He shrugged.

"I should hope not." She snorted under her breath.

"Is that jealousy I detect from you, Mademoiselle?" He teased.

"I simply hope to be one of a kind." She smiled mischievously at him.

"That you are, Enjy, that you are." He smirked.

"You were doing so well. Why do you insist on calling me that?" She pouted.

"It's a nickname. You refuse to be called Julia so I must find your nickname elsewhere as I do not know your middle name." He shrugged.

"No! My middle name is worse!" She protested.

"So I have to go to your last name and the only thing we can derive from that is Enjy." He said.

She sighed as the waitress returned with her card. He took one last drink of his soda and headed out with his arm around her waist. The car wasn't far and it was a quick drive across the street.

"Oh I forgot this one. Favorite book." She said as they were parking.

"Harry Potter. All seven." He said.

"Fine. Since those books are incredible, I will bend the one choice rule." She conceded.

"What? Star Wars and Lord of the Rings aren't incredible?" He asked, affronted.

"Not compared to books." She said honestly.

He nodded and sighed. "So what do you want to see?"

"Aren't you going to ask mine?" She huffed.

"Don't need to. I know it." He said.

"It's not the History of Law textbook I have." She groaned.

"No, I know. You're favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird." He stated.

"Yes, it is. How did you know that?" Enjolras stopped, stunned.

"I read your book when you fell asleep on the train. I was bored and it was there. And I know you, you don't mark one of your precious books without a good cause and your notes were very interesting. And I stayed away from the personal stuff as best as I could." He shrugged.

She gave him a good smack to the arm. "That's for looking into my personal writings!"

"I'm sorry. It's just, I haven't read it since high school and your commentary was incredible." He confessed.

She nodded, proud.

"So what movie do you want to see?" He asked as they got into line.

"Ooh! How about Friday the Thirteenth on Elm Street?" She asked happily.

"I- uh- don't like slasher films." He lied.

"Liar. I heard you talking about Jason last month to Bousset and about how much you loved it." She growled.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"Combeferre got to you, huh." She announced unhappily.

"Yeah." He hung his head in shame.

"Ugh! I had one nightmare after seeing that awful new Halloween movie. I thought I was looking old up the old ones with Jamie Lee Curtis. Those are fun. But no, he judges me over one movie!" She pouted.

"I'm sorry. But if he finds out, then I'm dead. Or worse. He didn't actually threaten me specifically and that's what scares me most." He admitted.

"Fine. We'll choose something else." She begrudgingly conceded.

"How about This is War?" He tried.

"I hate romantic comedies." She spat.

"O-kay then." He said.

"Have you seen the new Captain America movie?" She asked.

"Yes but I can see it again." He nodded.

"Good enough for me." She said and paid for the tickets to the next show, which thankfully was in about twenty minutes.

He got the popcorn and drinks while she went to get good seats. Thankfully, the movie had been released for a little while so there were some good seats available and he found her pretty easily. He gave her her half of the popcorn and her soda. He wrapped an arm around her and she shook her head at him fondly.

As the previews were about to begin, she whispered to him, "Why didn't you ask me for my favorite documentary?"

"We didn't have another hour before the movie started!"

* * *

**Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't updated this sooner, but two weeks ago was spring break and I had no time to write when I went home. So I fell a bit behind. And I know those three movies I listed didn't come out at the same time, and I know Friday the Thirteen on Elm Street doesn't exist. Deal.**

**So as per usual, leave a review if you can. I don't mean to sound desperate but pleaaaasseee. I might be a tad desperate. And I'm totally open for discussion of this and other stories. Unless you want spoilers- then it's no can do.**

**That's all folks!**


	9. Chapter 9

Courfeyrac was a dick. He should've known that Courfeyrac couldn't keep something like this secret. Which explained how everyone and their mother had texted him congratulations on snagging Enjolras. He spent twenty minutes just clearing through all his notifications. Then he got to the last text from Enjolras.

**Enjolras**: Remind me why killing Courfeyrac is a bad idea.

**Grantaire**: Because you don't want to make Combeferre deal with the paperwork.

About ten minutes later, she texted back.

**Enjolras**: Oh sorry that was meant for Combeferre. Ironically, he made the same joke.

**Grantaire**: It's a funny joke.

**Enjolras**: I'm still killing that little rat.

**Grantaire**: I will help you bury the body.

**Enjolras**: We have a meeting today. Will you be there?

**Grantaire**: As if I would let you face this alone.

**Enjolras**: We must face them sometime. Although I wish Courfeyrac had waited. I enjoy our dates but I'm not sure I'm ready to call this a relationship yet.

**Grantaire**: I think our friends have beat you to it, though.

**Enjolras**: I know. Is two dates usually classified as a relationship?

**Grantaire**: Depends on the people in the relationship. Some people start calling the other boyfriend girlfriend before they even go out on a date. Some people never do. There's no specific societal norm that you can refer to.

**Enjolras**: What about you? What do you think?

**Grantaire**: Whatever you think is best. I'll follow you.

**Enjolras**: R, that is not healthy. If this were to ever develop past the dating stage, I cannot dictate everything in this.

**Grantaire**: You think we might get that far?

**Enjolras**: Any relationship I get into I intend to see through. Whether we actually make it is not known to me yet. But for now, I'm willing to try and make this work. I haven't felt this way in years. It feels nice and since you make me feel this way, I want to make this work. Don't you?

**Grantaire**: Of course I want to make this work.

**Enjolras**: So PARTICIPATE.

**Grantaire**: In all honesty, yes, I would consider us boyfriend and girlfriend.

His heart stopped. He hadn't meant to say that. He typed it out because it felt good but he never meant to send it. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! That was it. He was done. She was going to say she didn't want to be with him that way and he'd ruined the relationship with the girl of his dreams. God, he was such a fuck up.

**Grantaire**: I'm sorry.

**Grantaire**: Please forgive me.

**Grantaire**: I didn't mean to send that.

**Grantaire**: Whatever pace you want to go at, I'll go.

**Grantaire**: God, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to screw this up already.

**Grantaire**: You're amazing and beautiful.

**Grantaire**: I should've known that this would happen.

**Grantaire**: You can totally forget I said that.

**Grantaire**: I swear, whatever you want to do, I'll do.

**Grantaire**: Please forgive me.

**Grantaire**: I know I'm terrible.

**Grantaire**: I know I don't deserve someone like you.

**Grantaire**: As great and wonderful and beautiful as you.

**Grantaire**: But please I will do whatever you want me to do.

As he poured his apologies through his phone, she called him. He should've known Enjolras would never break up over text. How does he always screw up everything in his life? With a heavy heart, he answered.

"R, calm down. I swear I'm still getting texts from you." She berated.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the inevitable words.

"I'm glad you were honest with me. I'd rather you be honest than have something together based on a lie. I mean, I've taught that at least six times since our first domestic violence seminar." She started.

_But I'm sorry I can't do this. I'm just not into you that way._ He finished in his head.

"And I'd really rather do this in person. It's not fair to you otherwise." She finished.

His stomach dropped to the Earth's core.

"Do you mind if I drive over?" She asked.

"Of course, sure." He choked out.

Tears were fighting to escape and he waited until he hung up before he let them fall. God, how could he have been so stupid? He'd been on two perfect dates with the perfect woman and now after two days, he'd completely fucked it over so she was now coming over to break up with him because she was so decent a person. She wasn't someone as cruel to do it over Facebook or text. No, she was so great she had to do it in person. God he hated her perfection sometimes. Why couldn't she be a little human like the rest of them every once in a while? He knew she was Apollo incarnate but she didn't have to be a deity every minute. She graced her presence among mortals. Couldn't she act like a mortal for one moment and spare him the pain of having to look into her eyes? Her perfect, blue eyes. He could stare into them for years. As blue as a glacier and as cold as one too. He knew that's the look she'd give him the last time he saw her. He couldn't face her after this. How on this hell on earth did he manage to screw up in only three days? He'd been doing so well. She'd laughed more times in the span since they'd had sex than more than he'd ever seen her laugh. Ever. Maybe that was the problem. She had done this out of guilt after they slept together and her heart just couldn't take it anymore. He probably reminded her of all her mistakes that night. If he were her, he'd never want to speak to him again. She was just too perfect to admit so.

Deciding that when she broke up with him, he wasn't going to disturb her by being a slobbering mess. He picked himself up and hauled himself to the bathroom. He washed his face and blew his nose. Except his eyes still being a little red, he looked all right. Well no, he looked terrible but it was his usual terrible. His awful skin with the zits he could never quite control, his messy hair that never seemed to look right no matter what he did to it, and of course his appalling figure in itself. He'd designed it but there was simply nothing to do about ugly. How everyone tolerated being around him, he'd never know. He wouldn't.

A knock sounded. "Grantaire?"

Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what was about to come, he called back, "Just a second."

He checked his face, his eyes were still a little red, but it would have to do. He went to the door and opened it. "Come on in."

She did so warily.

"Are you all right? Why do you look like you've been crying?" She asked, sounding concerned. But he knew it had to be fake.

"How is it you notice something like that when you can't even read body language?" He snapped, his hurt coming out as anger.

She looked upset and he tried to apologize but she held up a hand. _Oh God, here it comes_.

"You didn't answer my question." She said, her voice hardening.

"All right, look, I'm an emotional guy. Maybe it's left over from being born a girl, but I can get pretty emotional when I know I'm about to broken up with after only two dates." He retorted.

"I'm not breaking up with you." She stated, seeming confused.

"What?" He breathed.

"I told you. I'm willing to make this work. I mean it's _only_ been two dates, meeting my parents, having sex once, almost twice since I totally would've done you in that alley if you hadn't stopped me, and us sharing our deepest, darkest, most intrapersonal secrets that no one else knows." She said.

"When you say it like that, I guess it's a little more than two dates." He admitted, laughing a bit. But he knew it wasn't a real laugh. It was the kind of embarrassed laugh you do when you misunderstand why you're crying. "Wait, but I thought you said you weren't ready for a relationship. You said it back in that bookstore café of yours too. I thought I was rushing you into something you didn't want to do."

"I don't-" She swallowed hard, "I don't know exactly what I'm ready for. This had kind of been completely out of my comfort zone. I- I haven't dated in years and I convinced myself that I was better off for it. Romance was for the weak minded and I had much better things to do. And then you came along. At first, I despised your attitude and hated the alcohol on your breath. But somehow something changed and I started caring for you. Differently than the way I cared for anyone else. And that scares me. I haven't ever made these many decisions in a romantic relationship. When I was dating Jack, I just listened to him when he said we were dating, and where we were going when we went out and stuff. I followed him. I wasn't the leader I am today. I was always scared of doing the wrong thing and him leaving me so I left almost all the decisions up to him. I mean it wasn't bad, I liked it that way, we figured we'd have the rest of our lives to give me more confidence. But when you leave all the decisions to me, I just get scared more. I don't know how to handle it. I've never handled it before. I read all your messages and you said that you couldn't believe that you'd screwed up so quickly. I ask your opinion because _I'm_ scared of messing up what we're starting to have. It's fantastic and I don't want to have you end it because I did something lousy or socially unacceptable."

"You have to trust me to correct you and not judge you for it." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't trust people. I know I trust certain activities to our friends but I don't trust people. They let you down or they leave. They leave without any explanation or closure. But for some god known reason, I trust you. And I'm terrified of it. I talk to you. I talk the way I've never talked to anyone else, even Combeferre, and that scares me. Like for right now, for god's sake! I've never just openly said what I was feeling in front of someone this often. Not even Jack! I talk to you and I say what I want. And I know it only happens when we're alone but I've been alone with a lot of people and I've never talked like this. I don't say what's on my mind. I carefully sculpt my words to make sure each one means exactly what I want it to." He cocked an eyebrow at her. She added petulantly, "Usually."

"Riiiiiiiiight." He drawled out.

"The freakiest part is that I'm enjoying all of this!" She shouted and plopped down on the couch. He joined her.

"You're enjoying this right now?" He asked warily.

"Well, not right now. Right now kind of sucks because I can't keep my mouth shut." She muttered.

"I think actually I'm enjoying that part." He teased.

"Oh shut up." She muttered mutinously. "I hate this actually. I don't trust people and here I am pouring my heart out to you. There's a reason I've never done this before!"

"Do you not trust me?" He interjected.

That stopped her cold. She stiffened, and thought.

"I do. I think I do. I think that's what I hate most is I do trust you and I know everyone else has earned it, Combeferre especially, and I've never done anything like this with them."

"Because you don't trust them, or you don't trust people in general?" He asked.

She thought for a minute. "Second one, I think."

"That's not too bad. You act like not trusting people because they almost always let you down is a bad thing. I think you do trust the others." He said.

"Then why is it you're the only one I've ever brought home?" She snapped.

"Because it's your parents you don't trust. I could see when I said I was an artist, they were not happy with me. I think I'm 'below' you. And I think they think everyone is below you. But just because you have trust issues doesn't mean that you're going to screw this up. Just because I make a wrong stroke doesn't mean the paintings ruined." He shrugged.

"I'm proud of you. Jehan once told me to never date someone who's not proud of me and I realize that's got to go both ways. I feel like I should tell you that." She tried suddenly.

He tried for a smile and failed. "I feel like I should tell you that trusting me is probably a bad idea. I'm going to disappoint you, that's for damn sure, and I know in my heart that somethings going to go wrong. I'm going to mess it up, embarrass you, or pick the wrong fight with you. I'm not good enough for someone like you. Maybe we shouldn't do this. I don't want you getting into this just to get hurt."

She pinched him, hard.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for?" He shouted, rubbing his arm.

"Every time you say something bad about yourself, I'm going to pinch you. I won't hear it. I think this is worth the risk and I don't really think it's that big of a risk. Who knows? I could be the one who screws everything up. Are you willing to take that risk that I might mess everything up?" She asked.

"I don't have to. You won't." He said assuredly.

"R, I'm asking you to take this risk with me." She stated.

"Wait a minute, I thought you said you weren't ready for a relationship. Why are you so excited on getting into one now?" He insisted.

"I don't do anything unless I think it's worth it. I think you're worth it. I mean, I know I'm not like any of the girls you've dated before-"

"Trust me, nobody's ever dated someone like you. Except the few guys you've dated." He said.

"Few? Try two. And I'm including you! That's it. How many have you had? Ten?" She asked indignantly.

"No! God, no. Like two and a half." He replied.

"And a half? How do you have half a relationship?" She inquired.

"Well it was a friends with benefits situation and I read too much into it. Turned out, he wasn't interested in me that way. So we just stayed being friends." He answered.

"Please tell me that wasn't Courfeyrac." She begged.

"Naw this was in my senior year in high school." He responded. "Though, I'm sure most of his friends with benefits are like that though, from his bragging about it. That's just his style."

"Now that's rude." She chastised.

"And yet, you don't say it's not true." He teased, managing a small smile.

She returned it. "Speaking of that little rat, we do have a meeting with a surprise party planned for us." At his confused expression, she continued, "He was over this morning and I could hear him planning it with Cosette and Jehan. 'Ferre just laughed at them. And then the little traitor took Courfeyrac's phone and encouraged them! I mean, he actually encouraged them!"

"Oh dear whatever shall we do with him?" He gasped.

"Ha ha. Very funny. Forgive me if I want our relationship to be between us not everyone else." She deadpanned.

"Are you really sure you want to do this? Knowing that I'm going to screw this up?" He asked.

"Do you want to?" She asked gently.

He sighed. Of course he wanted to do this. She was perfection incarnate. What she was doing with him he had no idea. But he didn't want to ruin his relationship with her because he knew something would happen and he'd screw it up and she'd never want to be near him again. But maybe he could live gloriously with her until he fucked it up and then his light could go out. Now maybe that wasn't a perfect life but it seemed appealing for now.

"Yes. Yes, I do." He finally answered.

"So do I. Now, let's go kill our friends for wanting us to be happy and take the tail off his royal rat-ness." She growled.

He laughed. Loudly and fully. The kind of laugh that resonated to your core.

"What?" She demanded.

"You keep calling him a rat. Is there any reason for that specific metaphor?" He chuckled.

"Let's see. He's dirty, constantly spreads sickness, with a small brain, and he's extremely good at 'reproduction'." She smirked.

He laughed louder. "Wow. You should tell him that."

"Are you kidding? I lived through the prank war of sophomore year. I'm not that stupid." She retorted.

His laughter died down but his smile remained. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"Well, we'll find out together won't we?" She smiled.

He nodded.

"I mean it's that what relationships are supposed to be about?" She asked.

"I think so." He agreed.

"Here. Just ride with me. We're dead anyways. It's not like that's going to make it worse." She said when he grabbed his keys.

"Well, into the firing squad we go." He marched out, humming La Marseillaise as he went.

She snickered. "Vive la révolution."

He laughed and got into her passenger seat. "I don't know if the death penalty has to do with that."

"The death penalty was used in France every time a fat cat was convicted of betraying their country and the poor by being rich. I should say it fits." She defended.

"Maybe you were born in the wrong time." He said.

"I should think not. I am extremely rich and I still talk to my parents who adore me and send me money. I doubt I would've been very popular. Maybe if I sacrificed my money and status." She surmised. "No, wait. What am I talking about? I'm a woman. All I ever could've done was sew. And get blood on everything because I can't sew without stabbing myself a thousand times."

"Ah yes. The death of a thousand needles." He teased.

She shook her head. "More like the death of a thousand pricks. It was only ever one needle."

He laughed.

Then she turned on the radio. Piano Man came on. He didn't listen really, as he watched Enjolras. She mouthed the words with facial expressions and shoulder dance moves. He knew he was staring but he didn't really care. She was really cute. Though, he knew if he were to say that, his pride would pay dearly. And maybe some other things he didn't want to think about. The ride to the Musain was short, as Enjolras's apartment had always been close. She parked and stopped.

"We going with being surprised or not?" She asked.

"Eh, they went to all this trouble. Why not?" He shrugged.

She smiled and nodded.

So they went inside and 'suddenly' everyone popped out shouting, "SURPRISE!"

They jumped and laughed. Everyone patted them on the back for finally getting their shit together and going out. Soon Courfeyrac stood on the table with a glass in his hand.

"Everyone, everyone, may I have your attention please?" The room quieted down as they looked at Courfeyrac. "I raise this toast to E and R. We shipped it from the moment they met and I'm glad to see my shipping skills have paid off. To the lovely couple!"

Everyone cheered.

"Oh shut up!" Enjolras cried, startling the room. "You act like we're getting married!"

"Well, with you, we never know." Courfeyrac teased.

Enjolras just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I feel insulted. Should I feel insulted?" Courfeyrac asked, faking a wounded tone.

"Yes!" Enjolras and Grantaire shouted on cue.

The room burst out laughing. Courfeyrac smiled at them and hopped down.

"Well, I'm not as good as you but everyone seems happy." Courfeyrac smiled.

"You have always had a way to make people happy, Courfeyrac. That I've never doubted." Enjolras praised.

"But not you." Courfeyrac deflated.

"Do I seem upset to you?" Enjolras asked.

Courfeyrac frowned then shook his head.

"However, I did not need a surprise party. We do have a meeting today and we have important things to go over." Enjolras chastised.

"The revolution can wait, Enjolras. Have some fun. Enjoy your boyfriend." Courfeyrac dismissed.

"I do but we have work to do." Enjolras pressed.

"I leave her to you, my good friend. I'm going to find something to drink. Perhaps some good wine." Courfeyrac simply laughed and walked away.

"I can't believe he just did that." Enjolras fumed.

"Hey, it's all right. He's just trying to get you to have fun. Put aside work for a day. It can wait. We have the rest of the year." Grantaire tried.

Enjolras huffed.

Grantaire thought for a moment. "You know what I'd really like to see though?"

"What?" She turned to him.

"Pull what happened the day of the second degree burns, except with pie and aiming for his face." He teased.

She laughed. "That is wonderful."

"Even though you're against wasting food?" He baited.

"That is not wasting food. That is the greatest use a pie can hope for." She corrected.

He laughed out loud. She joined him.

"I can't believe my eyes. The apocalypse is coming!" Bahorel teased, seeing Enjolras laugh.

Grantaire flipped him off.

"Must you do that?" Enjolras groaned.

"I'm defending your honor!" Grantaire protested.

"I can defend my own honor." Enjolras countered, sticking her tongue out at Bahorel.

Grantaire laughed. "Let me get you something to drink."

"Just water is fine." Enjolras said, sitting down at a table.

He nodded then squeezed through the crowd to Madame Huchloup at the bar.

"Enjoying the party?" She asked cheekily.

"Two waters, Madame." He answered back.

"No alcohol? I'm going to go out of business if you stop drinking." She teased, filling the glasses.

"Well, I'm sure Courfeyrac can keep you going." He shot.

She handed him the water and he made his way back to Enjolras. He handed her her drink and joined her. Soon after, Jehan joined them.

"Aren't you two just adorable?" He cooed.

"We're sitting a table drinking water. I don't see how that classifies as adorable." Enjolras stated.

"Well, it is. Anyways, I've got something for you." Jehan handed her a slip of paper.

Grantaire leaned over and read over her shoulder. All he got was the title- My Dear Cynic- and that was enough.

"Are you trying to hit on Grantaire for me?" Enjolras asked, completely confused.

Jehan nodded brightly.

"Didn't that happen on Parks and Rec?" Grantaire inquired.

Jehan nodded again.

"Okay, no more Netflix for you." Grantaire said.

"Hey!" Jehan protested.

Suddenly, Eponine shrieked with delight, almost bouncing with excitement.

"Maybe we'll get a reprieve and Eponine can be the focus of this party from now on." Enjolras whispered to him.

Cosette was the first to approach her and she was very quickly enveloped in a hug. When Cosette was finally released, Eponine seemed to be holding back tears.

"What happened?" Cosette asked.

"That was Financial Aid. I qualified for much more money this year because of my grades and I've finally got enough to find an apartment." Eponine's smile stretched across her entire face, so much to the fact that Grantaire thought it might break her face.

Everyone cheered at the words, which was greatly earned. Eponine had worked her ass off to get the best grades she could, often getting tutored by many of the Amis, Grantaire included. She'd been stuck barely being able to pay for food and lodging, not to mention school, because of her status to the federal government. Eponine lived in a room that she rented, but it was barely bigger than a jail cell. She never complained, especially since Eponine had a problem accepting help from anyone, and they'd try to get her to sleep over but Eponine didn't accept pity from people. She'd get by on her own and she didn't need any help. Finally, Eponine would be able to get an actual apartment and would be able to afford food. She'd definitely deserved it.

He stood. "You know what? Party back at my place. In celebration of Eponine's hard work and dedication."

Eponine ran at him and jumped into his arms. He squeezed back as hard as she embraced him.

"You did it. You deserve this." He hissed in her ear.

He could feel her smile.

When he was finally allowed to put her down, she turned and latched onto Enjolras. They all knew that Enjolras had been the one to help walk her through financial aid, like her own personal lawyer. She'd done it because Eponine had given her advice on how to handle a boy she did not like who kept pestering her. Eponine then walked up to the guy, threatened him, and then kicked him in the nuts. It worked like a charm.

Enjolras seemed uncomfortable from the hug but returned it.

"Hey. You did this yourself. I just gave you a map." Enjolras shrugged.

Eponine started crying for real this time. Courfeyrac scooped her up next and swung her around. Once everyone had gotten their turn with Eponine, they all piled into their cars and drove to Grantaire's flat. Courfeyrac was fumbling with something in his trunk when Enjolras pulled up.

"Help that idiot. I'll park." Enjolras growled, rolling her eyes severely. Grantaire's building didn't have much parking space, and Grantaire's car took the only space allotted to him. So whenever anyone came over, they'd have to find city parking somewhere close which wasn't always easy. It seemed that he got the best spot available.

Nodding, Grantaire got out of the car and walked over to Courfeyrac.

"Whatcha got there?" Grantaire asked causally.

"My karaoke machine." Courfeyrac grinned mischievously.

"You know Enjolras hates that thing." Grantaire said.

"I know but we're not at Enjolras's apartment or the Musain. I can bring it anywhere in your apartment I want." Courfeyrac smiled, glad with this plan.

"Really?" He teased.

Courfeyrac stopped and turned to him, looking upset. "Do you not like it? I don't have to bring it in if you ban it too."

"One, I'm not Enjolras. I don't ban things from my apartment. I only have a few rules. Two, I'll help you." Grantaire smiled and got on the other side. He had an idea.

"What are you up to?" Courfeyrac asked, his mischievous grin back.

"I'm going to do something nobody's ever been able to do before." Grantaire replied.

"Please. If I haven't been able to do it, there's no way you can do it in one night." Courfeyrac shot, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"Oh yeah? Fifty bucks. I can get her up there." Grantaire offered, a spark of determination lighting itself in his stomach.

"You sure you can afford that when you lose?" Courfeyrac responded hotly.

"Since I know that is both a taunt and a question, if I were to lose, which I'm not, totally and without question. Emma gave me a bonus for getting Enjolras to go out with me." Grantaire answered.

"Wow, seriously? You have such a cool boss." Courfeyrac smiled, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"I know. Just don't tell her that." Grantaire smirked.

They maneuvered the machine out of Courfeyrac's car and carried it up the stairs to Grantaire's apartment. Once they got it into Grantaire's closet, them both knowing it was a surprise would be best for everyone, they grinned and shook hands.

"Bets on. Prepare to lose, R." Courfeyrac spat.

"Lose what?" Asked Combeferre, who had appeared in the doorway. He was probably the first one to find parking.

"R and I made a bet to see whether he could get Enjolras to sing karaoke." Courfeyrac answered lightly. "Which he's so going to lose."

"I am not." Grantaire shot back.

"What makes you think you can do it?" Courfeyrac accused.

"Boyfriend privileges." Grantaire smirked.

"All right! I'm putting an end to this." Combeferre said, pushing himself in between the two.

Courfeyrac stuck his tongue out at Grantaire.

"You are so immature." Grantaire said as he flipped him off.

"I said enough!" Combeferre reminded them.

"Enough what?" Enjolras asked as she walked in.

"Nothing. It's just these two are being idiots." Combeferre dismissed.

"Already? I leave you two alone for five minutes." Enjolras groaned.

"Sorry." They chorused.

"I'm thirsty. You want anything?" Enjolras asked, heading into the kitchen.

"Get three beers please." Grantaire answered.

"Five, if you don't mind." Feuilly called, toting Bahorel.

Enjolras nodded. It was no stranger to the Amis that Grantaire always kept a fully stocked twelve pack in his fridge. Cosette would soon be sent out to grab more beer as she didn't drink usually. It was a rare occasion that Cosette drank. Enjolras soon returned with said beers and passed them out. In her own hand, she kept a soda. One he couldn't remember buying.

"Um, you check the expiration date on that?" He asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Nooooo. Should I have?" Enjolras drawled out.

"Yes. Definitely." Grantaire answered.

She did. "It's fine."

"Oh good." Grantaire smiled.

"You actually needed me to check the date on it? C'mon R." Enjolras groaned.

"Look, I just couldn't remember buying it. I didn't want you to be sick or something." He defended.

Enjolras rolled her eyes.

"Are you sure I don't feel hot?" Joly's voice came from the hall.

"Yes, dear. I promise. Now you're not sick and let's have some fun." Musichetta's soft voice answered and she pushed him into the room.

"Beer's in the fridge." Grantaire told them.

Joly nodded and got three more.

"So Nikolas, how does it feel to date the undateable?" Musichetta teased.

"Hey." Enjolras shot back.

"Relax, dear, I'm only teasing." Musichetta said.

Enjolras nodded. "Yeah R? How does it feel to date me?"

Grantaire gulped. "Best thing in my life. Ever."

The girls laughed.

"Good answer." Enjolras giggled.

"Definitely good save." Musichetta hissed in his ear.

He relaxed slightly.

Jehan showed up next. He bounced over to Courfeyrac, chattering on about something. Courfeyrac laughed and answered back. Musichetta sighed. He turned to her with an eyebrow cocked.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class?" He asked.

"Not yet. Still too early to tell." Musichetta answered cryptically.

After a little bit, Marius, Cosette and Eponine finally showed up. Cosette carried three twelve packs and Marius had the fourth. Eponine was carrying something in a big box.

"I figured it'd just be easier if I got the beer first. No need for more beer runs." Cosette explained.

"Can I look in it now?" Eponine asked, trying to see inside the box.

"No. Put it on the kitchen table." Cosette ordered.

Eponine rolled her eyes but did as Cosette asked.

Everyone gathered around his tiny ass table, just as curious as Eponine. Cosette got to the head of the table.

"This is for Eponine. Ta-da!" Cosette then opened the box to reveal a giant cake that read Congratulations! It was just a plain store-bought cake but the meaning was easily clear to Eponine. Eponine looked at Cosette gratefully and hugged her.

"Courfeyrac, get that finger away or I'll cut it off. Eponine gets first piece." Enjolras growled.

Courfeyrac hid both hands behind his back while the others laughed. Cosette fetched a butcher knife, the biggest knife he had, and started cutting the cake. Grantaire frowned and looked through his cabinets. He didn't have too many plates.

"Relax. We already got paper plates." Marius said, holding the small bag up.

Grantaire nodded as Marius handed the plates out. For a moment, they just all ate cake- Eponine's favorite, Funfetti with blue icing- and laughed. He was glad that Eponine had Cosette, who reminded him of Enjolras a bit. Cosette bought their affection, just as Enjolras did, but she was much more socially adept than Enjolras was. So Cosette knew where to draw the line.

"All right. Now that we're all here and we've had our cake, now let's have some fun!" Courfeyrac grinned from ear to ear. Then he and Jehan dragged the karaoke machine out. "So who's first?"

"Since Eponine is the guest of honor, I say she gets first song!" Bahorel said, all but shoving Eponine to the center.

Eponine made a face at Bahorel but took the microphone from Courfeyrac.

"I'm terrible. Just so you all know." Eponine warned.

"There's no such thing as a bad singer." Jehan cried.

"All right." Eponine shrugged, and then picked her song.

She was wrong. Eponine wasn't perfect, but she wasn't too bad. She managed her way through Counting Stars by OneRepublic and got tremendous applause when she was done.

"You guys act like you enjoyed that." Eponine dismissed.

Jehan immediately went to work to rectify that.

Courfeyrac, who had gotten the mike back, grinned and handed it out to Grantaire. Grantaire smirked and started scrolling through the list.

"The song I want, it's not here." Grantaire frowned.

"Here." Courfeyrac grabbed Grantaire's laptop and connected it to the machine. Grantaire looked up his song on his laptop and downloaded it onto the machine. Satisfied, he waited for everyone to stare at him. Once that happened, he hit play.

"I wasn't jealous before we met

Now every man that I see is a potential threat

And I'm possessive, it isn't nice

You've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice

But now it isn't true

Now everything is new

And all I've learned

Has overturned

I beg of you"

When he finished, he held the mike out to a gaping Enjolras. She shook her head, smiled and leaned forward.

"Don't go wasting your emotion

Lay all your love on me…

It was like shooting a sitting duck

A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck

I still don't know what you've done with me

A grown-up woman should never fall so easily

I feel a kind of fear

When I don't have you near

Unsatisfied

I skip my pride

I beg you dear."

Grantaire snuck a glance at Courfeyrac. His mouth was hanging open and he looked purely dumbstruck. Then he sang the next two lines before the two joined together to finish the song.

"Don't go sharing your devotion

Lay all your love on me

Don't go wasting your emotion

Lay all your love on me

Don't go sharing your devotion

Lay all your love on me."

Thunderous applause greeted them once they finished. Enjolras glared at him fondly. She mouthed, _bedroom now_. He mouthed back, _I'll meet you there._ She walked into his bedroom and shut the door. He walked to Courfeyrac with a brilliant smirk on his face. Courfeyrac, mouth still open wide and expression still unchanged, silently dug out his wallet. He collected the fifty and handed it over.

"How did you do it?" Courfeyrac finally managed to say.

"You kept constantly asking her to do pop. She likes disco more." Grantaire shrugged, got another beer and soda, and headed into his bedroom.

"I thought I said I didn't do karaoke." Enjolras stated.

"I know. But you did seem to have fun." Grantaire tried.

"I did and that's why I'm not murdering you. But why?" Enjolras pressed.

"Well, mainly because I wanted to see you have a little fun. Every time I hear you sing in the car, you have so much fun. I just wanted to give you the opportunity to do it outside the car." He said.

She sighed. "And you didn't think I might've had a reason not to sing in public?"

"Stage fright." He supplied.

"How did you know about that?" She asked indignantly.

"The same way I knew you were in the theater. Your notes." He answered.

"Damn." He flinched at her curse but she didn't notice. "I need a journal for such things. And don't read my book again."

"I'm sorry. I was bored." He replied.

"Wait. You said that was the main reason. Any other reasons?" She asked dangerously.

He blushed. "Yeah I might have had a bet with Courfeyrac that I could get you to do it. I had already planned on that before he made the bet with me."

"Courfeyrac and his stupid bets. He's going to get himself hurt doing that." She huffed.

"I'm sorry. Should I not have done it?" He asked, pouting slightly.

"How much was it for?" She questioned suddenly.

"Fifty bucks." He answered.

She seemed to smile a bit, as if glad she was worth that much. "Fine. But next time, consult me."

"I will, I promise." He swore immediately.

She sat down on his bed. "But I'm not going out there for a moment that's for sure."

"That's why I got this." He handed her her soda pop, joining her on the bed.

She took it and opened it. She checked the expiration date and took a swig. He drank from his own beer.

"Though I'm never doing it again, I must admit, it was a little fun. Also, I saw Courfeyrac and his face was totally worth it." She said and he burst out laughing.

"I'll bet when we do go back out, his still going to be like that. If we're lucky, he'll get frozen like that." He gasped out through his laughter.

She joined him, snickering madly. Then she leaned on him and allowed her head to nuzzle into his neck.

"Just so you know, the more people who try and get me to sing in public again, the further my boot goes up your butt." She added softly.

He stiffened. "But that's out of my control."

"Don't care." She murmured.

"Then we're not going back out there until I tell them that." He stated.

She snorted in amusement. "I'm teasing. I would never harm you over something you cannot control."

He smiled. "Of course not."

"Come. We must join the others soon enough." She pulled back, taking a drink as she did.

"They can wait." He said before leaning in to kiss her. He hesitated ever so slightly to make sure she wanted this and she closed the distance.

Just like every other time he kissed her fireworks went off in his chest. Each of his senses seemed amplified and yet the noise from the other room seemed dimmed, like someone had turned them down. His entire focus was on her. He set his beer down to run his fingers through her hair, making her moan slightly. He could feel one hand snake around his waist, making every nerve she touched explode with sensation and beg for more, as the other grasped the back of his neck to pull him down to her. He shifted slightly to allow for an easier movement between the both of them and she pressed closer to him.

"Hey when are you two- ugh! Man, I did not need to see that!" At Eponine's groan, they broke apart. He was panting, breathless from the experience. A quick glance her way showed something similar.

"We did close the door." Enjolras tried, blushing.

"Yeah but a sock would've been nice." Eponine shot back.

"We were not at that stage!" Enjolras countered harshly, her blush deepening.

Eponine just looked them over and laughed.

"Do you need us or something in this room?" Grantaire asked, trying to get her out of here.

"Combeferre wants you, Enjy. Oh sorry, I forgot that only your boyfriend could call you that." Eponine teased.

"Actually, even he's not allowed to call me that." Enjolras added calmly.

Eponine frowned. "Well, come on."

Enjolras let her hand run across his shoulder as she headed out.

"Sorry for interrupting." Eponine said.

"You could've said that earlier." Grantaire supplied.

"Could've." Eponine shrugged. "But I didn't. Also, what did you do to Courfeyrac?"

"I won a bet." Grantaire answered simply, standing and heading out.

A powerful knock sounded.

"I got it!" Courfeyrac called from the front door. Grantaire heard it open and then Courfeyrac's yell of, "Holy shit!"

He snapped his head to the door, seeing Courfeyrac's retreating figure revealing a larger woman with a battle hardened figure, with inky black hair, pale skin, and cold eyes so dark brown they seemed to be blacker than the depths of hell. He knew those eyes. He'd hoped he'd never see them again.

In her pale hand, she held a nine millimeter Berretta 90. Her favorite.

She used this opportunity to step inside his apartment, close the door, and raise the gun to his head. "Hello little sister."

Rachel.

* * *

**Ta-da! Look at the monster I've created! Actually, in all honesty, I might stop posting this story. No one seems to be paying attention to it and I'd rather see if I could delete it here and see where it could take me elsewhere. I say might because this is not a done decision but right now I just feel really unappreciated. I'll post on my decision so I don't leave you in the dark. Sorry all.**


	10. Chapter 10

Silence reigned as Rachel paraded around his apartment, gun still trained at Grantaire's head. Adrenaline hammered through his veins, giving him the instinct to try and get the gun from her, but intellectually he knew better. If he moved, a bullet would make a hole in his brain. So he stayed still. He glanced at his friends, his poor friends who deserved to be halfway around the world for this and saw Courfeyrac had pulled Enjolras down and away from her and was covering her body with his. Combeferre had his back to Jehan and Cosette who seemed to be cowering together. Marius was crouched behind Eponine, who was gently stroking his hair in an effort to calm him down. Joly, Bousset and Musichetta were huddled together near the end of his couch. Bahorel hadn't moved but looked uneasy and Feuilly didn't seem to be in the room. Maybe, hopefully, he was in the bathroom and out of the line of fire. None of them were moving, as if frozen with fear. Good, he didn't want any of them to move. He didn't know how mad Rachel was. When she was pissed, she didn't care who she shot.

"Nice place for a worthless runaway." Rachel acquiesced.

He didn't answer her.

"With that money you stole, I expected more." Rachel sighed, as if disappointed.

He stayed silent.

"Well don't stay quiet, René. You obviously spent it on something. Answer me." Rachel growled.

"School. So I could afford to go to school." He replied quickly, quite aware that if Rachel found out about his surgery than he'd be a dead man. Well, he was anyway but he figured he'd be a bit desecrated first.

"Oh yeah. You and your art. Right. I can't believe you're wasting good money for your art. It's not practical René. Though I do admire the school. I was so glad when I went to college. Granted, that was a little while ago but it definitely paid off." Rachel supplied.

He could feel the uncertainty radiating off of his friends'.

"Look, your beef is with me, let them go, they can't do anything to you." He pleaded.

"Ever the noble one, René. Where you got that from I'll never know. But, alas, they are my bargaining chips. So stay they must." Rachel sighed, then squinted. "Still on that trash that stupid quack is giving you, huh?"

"It's not trash. Anti-depressants help people." He shot back.

She stilled, anger crossing her expression. "Did you just correct me?"

"Yes, I did. And go ahead and hit me for it, I know it's coming." He snapped.

"Don't you take that tone with me. I may not be Mom but I am still older than you are. And I demand respect." Rachel growled.

"You're not going to get it. You never earned it." He hissed.

"But I'm older." She whined, almost like a young child.

He shook his head.

"I hate it when you stick to those stupid principles of yours." Rachel frowned, pouting like a five-year-old.

This was one of the many reasons he had to fear his sister. She was very powerful, a drug lord and human trafficker, but if she didn't quite get her way, she became as easily upsettable as a child. Except she had a weapon she wasn't afraid to use.

"Why are you even here? What is all this about?" He asked, feeling slightly bolder that she hadn't had a tantrum.

"It's time for you to come home, René. We need you and it's time to give up this stupid dream of being an artist. It's bad enough you missed Rémy's funeral. You're needed at home." Rachel answered.

"Oh really? Well then let me just go into my bedroom and pack!" He said sarcastically. "Oh wait, I don't have to pack. I'm already at home."

"You know what I mean, you insignificant bag of pus. It's disgraceful enough you look like a boy because you let those idiots poison you but an artist, René?" She gave him a condescending smile, one he knew only too well. "Dreams over. Time for you to come back to reality. We need you at home."

"Only reason for that would be because you actually expect me to do what Rémy did. And the answer is I'd rather die." He stated.

"Grantaire!" Courfeyrac hissed, fear marring his usual cheerful face. He took a glance at Enjolras and saw she was crying.

Knowing he needed to clarify for his friends, he said, "I will not sell drugs and beat people when they don't pay. I'm not my brother."

"Well of course not. Rémy understood his place in life. In this family. And he had better fashion sense." Rachel added plainly.

"I'm not a member of your family." Grantaire whispered.

"What did you just say?" Rachel asked.

"I'm not a member of this family!" He repeated, shouting. "You threw me down the stairs because of something I could not control. Pops thought taking me to the drug stashes would make me bond with him! And I'm not even going to go into what Mom did! What possesses you to even begin to think I want anything to do with you?!"

"Are you finished?" She asked dryly.

"Yes." He stated.

"Good." And she hit him with the barrel of her gun. His cheek throbbed but he shoved the pain aside. He had more important things to worry about- like getting his friends out of here and somewhere safe.

"Now, get into the car. It's downstairs, and I think we're double parked." Rachel commanded.

His heart sank. There was no way he was getting into that car but how to do so without getting his friends' shot he didn't know.

"He's not going with you." Enjolras's quiet voice echoed through the apartment.

Grantaire's blood turned to ice in his veins and he felt paralyzed with fear. In horror, he watched her untangle herself from Courfeyrac and stand up as she would in a debate. Her shoulders were back, her face set in an expression of determination, and she seemed to glow with power.

"Excuse me, blondie?" Rachel asked, mockingly.

"I said he's not going with you." Enjolras said, and Grantaire realized her mistake. They'd never known Grantaire as female, which was how Rachel would refer to him. His life was over and he couldn't believe he'd dragged these wonderful people into this.

"Oh I see. You're one of those hippie liberal trash who actually believe her stupid idiotic brainwashed mind that she's a boy. If she'd never gone to that stupid therapist, none of this would've happened." Rachel spat as Enjolras as if she were dirt beneath her feet.

"Yeah. I am. _Nikolas_ is one of the best _men_ I've ever known. He's kind, generous and brilliantly talented. He's incredibly intelligent and yes, maybe he drinks a little too much sometimes but that's the worst about him. And I'll not have you treat him like he's some second class citizens or one of your 'hoes'. You demand respect and yet you give none. Maybe if you realized what an incredible brother you had then maybe you'd-"

_Bang_.

What blood didn't get splattered onto Courfeyrac was sprayed onto the back wall. Silence so thick you could hear Enjolras's choked breathing. Time seemed to slow down as Enjolras fell backwards into Courfeyrac's arms. Grantaire ran to her and Combeferre and Joly did the same but were forced to back off when Rachel threatened them both with her gun.

"Stay away from her. Maybe I'll let the little cunt bleed out if I want to." Rachel was saying deep in a dream it seemed.

Grantaire was only focused on Enjolras. He pressed his hands on her wound, since he had no bandage but it only served to make his hands bloodier. Courfeyrac had her rested against his torso and he kept murmuring, "You're okay, you're okay, everything's fine, it's fine," to her so she wouldn't panic. But she obviously had no energy to panic. Grantaire met her eyes just as they were falling shut. She was losing blood fast, if she didn't get to a hospital soon, then she wasn't going to make it.

"Enjolras! Julia! No! No, come on, stay awake, we need you." Grantaire tried shaking her a bit but it did nothing. Enjolras seemed to be deeply unconscious.

"I'm begging you, let me treat her!" Combeferre shouted, desperation clear on his face

"And I said I don't care." Rachel sighed, looking at her nails disinterestedly.

She picked up Enjolras's forgotten soda and took a drink. Then she frowned and poured the drink out over Enjolras's chest. Able to feel the pain even under the blanket of unconsciousness, she screamed in agony. Both Combeferre and Joly tried to get to her but Rachel was built like a linebacker and she could easily stop the two junior doctors.

There was only one way to save her. He steeled himself for what he was about to face but knew Enjolras's live was much more important than his own.

"If I go with you, will you let them call an ambulance?" Grantaire asked weakly, tiredly.

The entire room went still before erupting.

Courfeyrac. "R, no, please."

Eponine. "No, Grantaire you can't."

Musichetta. "Nikolas, please!"

"Enough!" Grantaire silenced his friends before facing his sister. "If I go with you, will you let them call an ambulance?"

"You really care about this girl, huh?" Rachel squinted at him.

"I love her." Grantaire explained, putting all his emotion into his words.

"As if you didn't disgust me already. Fine. I'll let them call when you get in the car." Rachel agreed.

"Not soon enough. She'll die. I want the ambulance on its way before I leave." Grantaire set.

"Fine. Someone call paramedics please. I'd like to leave before I get a ticket." Rachel exhaled.

By the time she finished, Cosette was already on the phone. When Cosette thanked them, she put her hand over her mouth, gaping at him in terror, as she'd just revealed that the ambulance was on its way.

"Time to go, little sister." Rachel smiled and opened the door.

He kissed Enjolras's cheek one last time, and turned to his friends. He could feel tears but he held them back. Time for that would come later.

"You were all great friends. Best I could've asked for. Thanks." He declared, his voice slightly choked up. "Combeferre, I don't care what it takes, you take care of her for me. You understand?"

Combeferre only nodded, tears streaming down his face.

"Bye, guys." He turned towards the door and followed Rachel out.

"That was sweet." Rachel smiled.

"You hate sweet." He shot back.

"Well, yeah." She nodded and pushed him to get going.

"Nikolas, please, tell me what's going- is that a gun?" His poor landlady asked as she came up the stairs.

Rachel twisted his arm behind his back and shoved the gun into where his neck met his jaw.

"She's just my landlady. Probably heard the gunshot. She's nothing to you." Grantaire whispered.

He knew his sister well enough to know she was frowning, deciding whether to pursue this little old lady. Then he remembered his landlady was a retired nurse. She'd helped him out when he was recovering from his surgery. She could help Enjolras.

"She's just going to head upstairs where the others are and wait for the paramedics there. Isn't that right?" Grantaire asked aloud and his landlady nodded, almost running upstairs.

"Coward of a woman." Rachel spat and released her brother. "But probably called the cops. Move. Faster."

He all but ran down the stairs, praying no one else came out. His prayers were answered as no one else ventured from their apartments as they went downstairs. He found his sister's car easily and opened the passenger door. Surprisingly, there was someone else in it.

"Pops. I didn't know you were here." He said, completely taken aback.

"Hello, brat." His mother called from the driver's seat.

Completely confusion filled his senses. Why were his parents here? But he didn't have time to think about that. Rachel spun him around and grabbed his head, bringing it to her rising knee just in time for him to think, _oh fuck_, before he blacked out.

Consciousness came gradually. Having been knocked out by his sister before, he knew it wasn't like in the movies and TV. It wasn't a jerk awake or suddenly snapping your eyes open. That only happened from sleep. The first thing he felt was pain, a throbbing sensation in his nose. Then he felt the pain in his cheek. Then an uncomfortableness in his wrists. Sluggishly, he thought he should try to move them to be more comfortable. When his arms pulled slightly but the pulling made it worse, he stopped. The cold metal against his wrists wasn't moving so there was no use trying. Next he heard voices but couldn't distinguish them. Somehow he knew he didn't care about what they were saying so he didn't try to. Instead, he wanted to go back to whatever it had been he'd been in before but the throbbing in his nose went from can deal with it to fuck this really hurts. The intense pain brought him closer to consciousness to where he was almost awake.

"God, what's taking the freak so long? I mean, seriously, she actually said she was a boy. And people knew her like that?" A higher voice with disgust easily recognizable.

"Well, she's just confused. It's better living life as a boy so she probably likes that. The freedom, the ability to do basically anything. That's better than what she has as a girl." Lower. Softer.

"I still say we're better if without her." The higher voice said.

"No. She is still your sister Rachel. No matter how messed up she is. Family is family. And little Reese should know her aunt." Another voice. Higher than the second but lower than the first. Yet, harsher than the others. His mother.

Now awake, he groaned out, "Reese? You named your daughter after candy?"

"Reese is a perfectly good name for a girl. I didn't name her after the peanut butter candies!" Rachel growled. "Besides, I wanted to continue the tradition."

"There is no tradition." He responded.

"There is now!" Rachel shouted.

"Can you not do that? You broke my nose again and I don't want you to break my ears. No wait, not again. Mom did it the first time. My bad." He spoke with a terrible lisp, feeling the dried blood against his face.

He opened his eyes, and blinked away the blurriness. He knew where he was immediately, he wasn't an idiot. Also his childhood home hadn't changed much. Four bedrooms, kitchen with nice appliances, living room with huge sofa, and three bathrooms. From the information he had, he was handcuffed to one of the kitchen chairs. He knew it was a kitchen chair because they were horribly uncomfortable and he hated them.

"You were being difficult. You should've come home when Mom told you to." Rachel spat, as if this explained why he deserved to have his nose broken.

"Rémy and I hated each other. Why would I want to be at his funeral?" He asked.

"Because you're family. And you were expected." His mother answered.

"Look, can you just shoot me and get it over with? I'm tired of waiting for the bullet I'm destined for. I stole from you. I ran away. I know the laws of our house. I disrespected you. Now get it over with." Grantaire groaned.

"René, we're not going to-" His father started.

"Nikolas! My name is Nikolas! I had it legally changed when I was seventeen and I changed my biology when I was eighteen! That's my name! That's who I am, now use it!" He shouted, uncaring of how much pain they were going to put him through. He'd finally be done with everything. He just wished Enjolras hadn't had to get involved.

"You disgusting abomination!" Rachel shrieked and hit him over and over again. However much his nose had healed was rebroken and blood poured down his face. He could feel his right eye try to swell shut and he thought he felt a tooth break loose.

When Rachel paused, he screamed, "Yeah! Yeah I am! And you know what you are? Rachel, you are a psychopathic twat who is one of the most terrible people on Earth, and you know what else? You're stupid too. I don't know how you've survived this long being as stupid as you are." Granted this wasn't necessarily true as Rachel was an accomplished criminal but she hated being called stupid and he was going out in a blaze of glory.

"Dad, oh let's do you next. Drugs and guns are not the way to a person's heart. Granted, you're the least worst out of this family but that doesn't save you. You're still deplorable and I haven't forgotten the disdainful way you treated me over Rachel. I had problems and you didn't give a shit unless it involved breaking into your stuff. As long as your stuff stayed fine, I didn't matter.

"And Mom, oh God, can I talk about you. The hatred I feel for you can't be described in words. I remember every beating, every unforgivable word you threw at me, and every time you thought simply starving me for a few days would make me shut up. You know the worst part? I remember every time you'd say I didn't sign up for this. When you have a kid and you promise that you love them, you don't get to say 'I didn't sign up for this' because you signed up to love me unconditionally when I was a baby. You didn't know what gender I was until I was born! You didn't care then! You have no right to care now! You swore you'd always love me until I called myself a boy! So don't you dare come in now and expect me to have any love from me! You had your chance, both of you! And if saying this is what gets me killed then at least I'll die knowing I finally told you exactly what I thought of you!"

The only sound after that was his heavy breathing. He looked at his parents. His father looked horrified, his mother looked disappointed and Rachel looked angry. He sighed.

"Look. You need to do what you came for because I know you know I would never replace Rémy and no matter what you do to me that's never going to happen. And my friends called the cops if my landlady hadn't already and they all know who Rachel is and I'm pretty sure Jehan especially since I didn't want to say anything but I think that he bought drugs from our family so they all know exactly what you look like. So just get it over with. If you really cared about family, like you said you do, you'll kill me quickly. Dump me somewhere they'll find me so my friends' can bury me."

"You just want our daughter back." His father whispered.

"You don't have a daughter. Not in me." Grantaire replied. "Besides, why would I want to be around the people who just shot the love of my life?"

"You're in love?" His father asked.

"With a girl." Rachel added, spitting.

"With a goddess. She's got Aphrodite's beauty, Apollo's golden halo and Athena's wisdom. She's strong, passionate, and a born leader. Everything she does is perfection. Looking into her eyes is like gazing into the perfect sunset. You can't look too long or else you'll get burned, but yet you can't seem to pull yourself away. Her skin feels like silk and it looks like it's been made out of purest cream. And she has the funniest laugh. When you really get her to laugh hard, she does this cute little baby snort and it's hilarious and you can tell she hates it because she blushes whenever she does that but I try to do it as often as possible because she needs to laugh. She never laughs enough. She's always so serious and she never takes a break. Sometimes, I've seen her work herself into the ground and she always pays for it. But seeing her shine on a rally or getting signatures on a petition is one of the most beautiful things I've ever experienced. She's incredible and I'd do anything to spend the rest of my life with her, even if it's just in the shadows." His voice cracked at the end, remembering her splatter blood and closed eyes when he left.

Suddenly, everyone perked up at the sound of sirens.

"What the hell are the cops doing here?" His mother asked, peaking out the window.

"They're looking for me. Remember, I'm a college kid with a great art future. To my friends, I matter. They'll make the cops look for me. Even here." Grantaire tried.

She turned back to him, frowning.

"Look, just go. Please just go. I'll say I don't know why you brought me here and that I don't know where you're going. I hate you but you're my parents and I somehow love you after all the shit you put me through. Just go and I won't rat. Not even on Miss Psychopath." Grantaire offered.

His parents seemed to consider that and nodded.

"René-" His mother started.

"It's Nikolas. Just go, leave me alone and I won't snitch. But you have to stay away from me _and_ my friends." Grantaire finished.

"One last question." His mother knelt next to him. For the first time in a long time, she looked like she cared about him. It looked nice on her. "Why didn't you change your last name? I mean it's how we found you so easily."

"I don't know. I could never bring myself to do it. That name is a part of me and I'll never be able to change that." He admitted.

His mother nodded, kissed his cheek (which stung) and headed out with Rachel who simply sneered at him.

"Kid, you've given us a lot to think about." His father said.

"I don't expect you to change. I said what I said because I wanted to. Not because of anything else. I needed to get it off my chest before I died. Now that I've said it, I've got nothing more to say to you." Grantaire answered coldly.

His father sighed, nodded and gave him a quick hug. He knew he'd have to be tied up still for a convincing story for the cops. But he'd lied to cops before, lying now wouldn't be any different.

He waited about twenty minutes before the door was kicked open.

"I'm in here, please help me before they come back!" He shouted, letting himself finally cry for the woman he loved and the pain in his face.

The cops were easy to snow. The Amis hadn't told them much, probably more worried about Enjolras as they should be, and while the statement he gave was technically true, there were some missing parts. He didn't particularly care. Soon after, the ambulance came and the paramedics said he'd have to get surgery to fix his nose. He expected that. He could feel it. And with the insurance, he could probably afford it. (Actually that came from the paramedics, but it still felt nice that he wouldn't have to worry about it.) Finally, tucked away in the ambulance, he remembered something.

"Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my friends' and tell them I'm alive."

"Sorry, but that will have to wait. Right now, you just need to rest and don't move, especially your face. We don't want to exacerbate your break. But if you write down a number, we can have the secretary call them." The paramedic next to him said.

Immediately, he grabbed the paper in front of him and got a pen from the paramedic. He scrawled down Musichetta's number and wrote next to it _emergency contact Musichetta Sarjana_. The paramedic smiled and nodded. He then proceeded to inject the anesthetic and the pain and reality seemed to lessen. His eyelids were so heavy he could barely keep them open. But when the ambulance arrived, and he was whisked into surgery, he didn't need to.

When the sedatives wore off, he could feel he was in a hospital bed. He remembered this feeling after he got out of his surgery. He felt a twinge of discomfort in his nose but it was barely noticeable. And his face needed stitches apparently too. But he didn't care much.

"Nikolas? Come on, Nikolas, come back to us. Hey, boys, I think he's waking up." Musichetta's voice was like that of an angel and he never felt more grateful for her offering to become his emergency contact when she found out he had none.

He opened his eyes and once again blinked away bleariness. Musichetta, Joly and Bousset were all crowded around him. When they made eye contact, Musichetta smiled. "Hey, sweetie."

"Enjolras. How's Enjolras?" Grantaire asked Joly, now remembering his girlfriend. His voice sounded weird but he knew that was from his nose.

"She's stable. Still critical but stable. Combeferre's with her now." Joly answered, soothing his friend.

Grantaire could've cried. He realized he was crying when Musichetta wiped away a couple tears.

"That's just the medication, R. Don't worry." Joly assured him.

He knew but said nothing.

"How are you feeling?" Bousset asked.

"Like I'm on morphine." He joked and got a couple little laughs for it. "But I feel fine. I'm sorry you guys had to come all the way out here. I know it's dangerous."

"Oh shush. I'd travel halfway around the world if you were in the hospital." Musichetta dismissed.

He smiled at her. "So when am I getting out of here?"

"Tonight, hopefully. You be good today and they'll release you into my care. It's more the drugs that they want to watch you for. Your nose is just fine." Musichetta answered.

"Right, they operated on my nose. Did they change it to something nicer?" He asked hopefully.

"No they did not. Your nose is perfect the way it is. And I don't think Enjolras would approve of such language." Musichetta groaned.

"You know, she pinches me every time I say something bad about myself." Grantaire added sloppily.

Joly snickered. "You mean she's trying to classically train you to not be self-deprecating?"

"I think so. You'll have to ask her, though. I don't think I'm to be trusted right now." Grantaire replied.

That got a laugh.

"Nikolas, I'm so proud of you. I can't believe you did that for us." Musichetta said, starting to cry.

"No, don't cry. Please don't cry. You all are the best friends I've ever had. There's no reason to doubt I wouldn't die for you guys." He shrugged, becoming more alert.

"And we would for you, you know that right?" Joly inserted.

Grantaire nodded, but he knew he didn't deserve it. Especially because of the danger he put them in.

"Stop that. I can read you like a book. Just because your family is terrible people, doesn't mean that you don't deserve our love. And you've got it, whether you like it or not." Joly pressed.

He felt tears welling up again, but this time it wasn't the medicine.

"So how is everyone else? They okay?" Grantaire asked, desperately needing to change the subject.

"Yeah. Courfeyrac is pretty shaken up but Jehan's with him so he'll be all right. Marius all but broke down sobbing after you left and it took both Cosette and Eponine to calm him down. Last I heard, he was passed out on Cosette's couch. Feuilly and Bahorel stuck together and Bahorel went to work with Feuilly to keep him company. Though the fact that Feuilly's boss made him come in was a slap to the face really. I hope 'Rel chews him out. Combeferre's never left Enjolras's side. I don't even think he's gotten food or a change of clothes." Bousset offered.

"I don't think he cares about that at the moment." Grantaire whispered.

A thick silence followed.

"She'll be okay. She has to be okay." Joly breathed.

Knowing his friends' won't judge him, he started to cry. Enjolras could be dying and here he was, away from her. He wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Enjolras or a bottle of absinthe and cease existing.

"As much as I know that this is good for you emotionally, I don't think you should stretch your stitches just yet." Joly shushed gently. Musichetta petted his hair and he forced himself to calm down.

A doctor came in next. He was older, late forties early fifties maybe, with graying black hair, darker skin, and soft brown eyes. His gait was experienced and Grantaire felt like he could trust him. Actually, the hospitals usually were trustworthy. But he was still on his guard.

"Hello, Nikolas. My name is Doctor Lowe. How are you feeling?" His voice was deep and soothing. Obviously, he had a good bedside manner.

"Fine enough for what happened. When can I go home?" Grantaire asked.

"Why the rush?" Doctor Lowe replied curiously.

"His girlfriend was shot by the same people who abducted him. She's about eighty miles over in a hospital herself." Joly answered quickly.

"I see. Then I shall try to make this as quick as possible." Doctor Lowe stated and Grantaire allowed himself to be checked over. "I'd rather not release you just yet as I don't think that would be wise. I want you to know everything about what you need beforehand. How about I let you go in about two hours? That should be all right."

Grantaire nodded and Joly went to speak to him about continued treatment and medication. Musichetta ran her hands through his hair.

"Don't worry, Nikolas. She'll hang on and you'll give her strength. I know you will." Musichetta whispered, kissing his forehead.

He shut his eyes tightly to hold back tears. God, he wanted to see her so badly. Seeing her would help him. Enjolras gave him strength and right now he needed all the strength he could get.

"Nikolas, the police called while you were still asleep. They said something about finding a lead? Do you want to hear this?" Musichetta asked quietly.

"No. As far as I'm concerned, they don't exist anymore." He said coldly.

Musichetta looked sad, and since Musichetta should never look sad, he asked her about it.

"It just… it breaks my heart, Nikolas. I was raised with a strong sense of family and to see yours deteriorate like this… it's terrible." Musichetta sighed, her eyes full of tears.

He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly. He had never cared about the Grantaires as his family and he didn't mind losing them. However, the Amis were a family he couldn't let fail. He loved them too much for that. Musichetta cried for a bit but calmed down when Joly came in.

"Where's Bousset?" Joly noticed.

"Bathroom. He'll be back in a minute." Musichetta answered.

"R, take a nap. The time will go by faster." Joly suggested and Grantaire nodded.

Musichetta kissed his head again and sat down in one of those awful hospital chairs. Grantaire closed his eyes and tried to do as Joly said. He was tired, the medication was doing its job, and he knew Joly was right. His breath evened out and he slipped into a relaxed and half-conscious state.

"That was quick." Musichetta murmured.

"No, trust me, he's absolutely exhausted. The body can only take so much stress and he's had enough stress to last a lifetime. God, 'Chetta I'm so worried. I don't know what we're going to do." Joly sighed, his voice shaking.

"We'll be okay. Enjolras will pull through and Grantaire will never have to see those horrible people again. And you'll go on to medical school and become a doctor and everyone will be okay." Musichetta whispered, and he heard kissing.

"Hey." Bousset's voice was pained.

"What's wrong?" Joly demanded.

"One, your phone's off. Combeferre's being trying to reach you for a little bit so he called me." Bousset started.

"Oh yeah it went dead. I forgot to charge it last night and I've been using it too much." Joly muttered.

"Enjolras- she's- it's bad. They have to operate again. Something about a chipped rib? I didn't really understand him. He's devastated." Bousset sounded like he was crying.

"Oh God. Give me the phone." Joly commanded and walked outside.

"Dammit. I was so sure that she was going to be fine and awake when we brought Nikolas home." Musichetta sighed, sounding twenty years older than she was.

"She'll be all right. It's Enjolras. When has she ever not been okay?" Bousset smiled. Well, he thought he was smiling. He hoped he knew his friend well enough to know that.

"None of us have ever been shot before!" Musichetta shouted, making him frown. No one liked it when Musichetta shouted. It was never a pretty sight.

"Hush, my dear. We mustn't wake him." Bousset hissed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so scared we're going to lose her. And I don't know what that will do to everyone. To him." Musichetta admitted.

The door opened and Joly obviously returned.

"When she got shot, the bullet entered her chest and cracked a rib. Transporting her pushed the rib inward and snapped a bit off. It punctured her lung." Joly stated, sounding heavy.

"That sounds bad." Bousset said.

"It can be. They're repairing the damage but it's… she's not as stable anymore. There's no guarantee she'll survive." Joly confessed.

"You mean she's going to die?" Grantaire asked, now completely and fully awake, the morphine feeling gone and an aching in his heart grew.

"R, you know Enjolras. She's a fighter." Joly switched tactics.

"You didn't answer my question." Grantaire demanded.

"There's a chance. Right now, that's all we know. They haven't told Combeferre much." Joly sighed.

He felt like the world was crashing down around him. Enjolras was dying. She was _dying_! The aching feeling in his heart turned to intense pain, pain he'd never felt before in his life. Uncaring of the stitches in his face, he broke down sobbing. Immediately, all three rushed to his side but nothing they said or did comforted him. The words were empty, the actions missing a blonde revolutionary's touch. His heart hurt so much he felt like he was dying too. Except he didn't care. The only person in the world he cared about now was a dying revolutionary. She was dying and he couldn't see her.

"I have to get to her." Was the first thing he was conscious of saying.

"Nikolas, they have to release you. That's not for another hour and fifteen." Musichetta replied.

"I have to see her. She's dying and the last memory I have of her is her splattered with blood, dying in Courfeyrac's arms. I need to see her." Grantaire exclaimed.

"Grantaire, take a deep breath. Think for a moment." Joly tried, going into doctor mode.

"I'll die if I don't see her." Grantaire threatened.

"If you don't take a deep breath, so help me, I'll get the nurses to sedate you!" Joly growled.

That froze him. He knew that Joly would go through with it and he couldn't miss a chance to see Enjolras before she died. So he obeyed Joly's order and allowed himself a deep breath.

"Keep going. Again and again. Breathe in for seven seconds, breathe out for eleven." Joly stated, focusing on Grantaire.

So he counted. In for seven, out for eleven. Physically, he could feel himself calm down but that didn't quiet the raging storm in his heart. Repeated over and over in his head the words Enjolras is dying.

"Shut your mind up and listen to me." Joly commanded.

Grantaire's eyes met Joly's.

"I'm going to be honest. Yes, there is a chance that she could die. But do you truly believe that she'd give up without a fight? C'mon this is Enjolras we're talking about. What has she ever laid down and took something? Never. That's not who she is. No, she'll fight and I have faith she'll survive this. Don't you have faith in her?" Joly's word sounded right. Enjolras never gave up. Never once.

"I believe in her." His mouth moved, repeating his sentiments.

"That's what I thought. Now breathe." Joly said and Grantaire followed. The wild storm had calmed down to a light drizzle but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to see her. So he voiced as such.

"I'll see what I can do. Until then, I want you to lie down and breathe. They won't release you if you're not calm." Joly said.

Grantaire nodded. Grantaire knew what he meant. He could cry and freak out on the way to the hospital. But he needed to prove that he was okay so he could see her.

Joly disappeared for a moment and returned with the doctor.

"I understand your position, and I'm very sorry." Doctor Lowe started.

"Look, I've broken my nose before can we just skip the lecture? Also, I'll have two medical students looking after me. Can I please just check myself out AMA?" Grantaire asked.

"If you stay with this young gentleman. And I want you getting checked out at the hospital you will go to." Doctor Lowe offered.

"Sister Stephan's." Bousset whispered.

"Sure, sure whatever." Grantaire dismissed.

"Joly and I live with each other. We'll take care of him." Musichetta accepted.

Doctor Lowe nodded and walked him through the paperwork of checking himself out against medical advice. Once that was finally done, Bousset pushed him in a wheelchair while Musichetta brought the car around.

"This is embarrassing." Grantaire complained.

"It's hospital policy. I can't help that." Joly protested.

"Doesn't make it any less embarrassing. I only broke my nose. I can walk." Grantaire pressed.

"It was this or you weren't leaving." Joly said.

Grantaire pouted.

"Easy on the facial expressions. Your nose is still sensitive. I don't want to take any chances with you." Joly admonished.

Grantaire sighed.

"Don't do that either. I thought you'd broken your nose already." Joly chided.

"I did. About ten years ago. I was twelve." Grantaire admitted.

"Well, be careful. Here she is." Joly said and Grantaire stood up to get out of the wheelchair and then sat down again in the group's van.

Musichetta then headed out and got on the freeway.

"How long until we get there?" He asked.

"Roughly two hours. We might hit some traffic." Musichetta answered.

He nodded and had to resist sighing. Waiting was going to kill him.

"Want to play a car game?" Musichetta tried.

"No." Grantaire stated.

"How about some music?" Bousset offered.

"Look, I'm going to be in a foul mood until I see her. I'm sorry, I know you don't deserve this and I know I'm being unfair. But I feel terrible and I don't care about anything else but her right now." He voiced.

Musichetta took his hand and squeezed while Joly did his best to hug him from behind. Tears welled up again because of his strong emotions and his gratefulness to his friends. At least they understood his feelings. His heart ached and his misery settled over him like thick fog. It was choking, and blinding and the only thing that was saving him was his friends' devotion to him right now. He knew he didn't deserve this kindness. He got Enjolras shot. This was all his fault. He may as well as pulled the trigger himself. If Enjolras was a smart woman, and he knew she was, she'd never speak to him again. If she… survived. Oh God. He didn't deserve these amazing people as friends. Maybe he should've just had Rachel shoot him. They'd be better off if he was dead. That way they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. He needed a drink. A strong one. As soon as the hospital cleared him, he was going home and drowning himself with alcohol.

Music was played to end the awkward silence that had followed his outburst. He felt bad. He shouldn't have said those things to his friends. They were perfect and he was a useless nothing who would never do anything but hurt people and drag them through hell.

"Nikolas?" Musichetta called to him lightly as if he hadn't just yelled at his friends.

"Yeah?" He answered quietly.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Musichetta asked.

"No thank you, I'm not hungry." He answered.

"You haven't eaten since the lunch before the meeting." That wasn't true but Grantaire kept quiet. Saying that he hadn't eaten since dinner the previous night wasn't going to help him. "And I'm not letting you starve because you feel low. Get off here, Musichetta there's a Mickey D's around the corner I can see the sign."

Grantaire said nothing as Musichetta drove over to the drive-through. When he didn't answer with what he wanted, Joly took over. Chicken nuggets weren't too bad and he knew they were good for his nose, as heavy chewing was forbidden, but they didn't smell appealing. Granted, nothing would probably smell appealing right now. He tried to offer to pay them back but all three shushed him immediately, each using different arguments to extinguish any argument from him. He nibbled at the nuggets absentmindedly and his stomach was awoken with fervor. He controlled himself because he knew eating too fast would just make him sick. At least the water he'd gotten was cold and that was all right. After he finished, his mind drifted from reality. All he could think of was Enjolras getting shot, the blood going everywhere, and every filthy word he deserved. He was a terrible person for bringing his friends into this mess. He should've just gone home when his mother had called. That would've been safer for everyone. He would've just crossed over into the west side and gotten stabbed. A death easily written off. And his friends' wouldn't have to know what had happened to him. Even Enjolras. Being in the dark was better than being six feet under.

"R, wake up. We're here." Joly shook him lightly.

He opened his eyes and rolled his muscles. He must have fallen asleep sometime on the trip. He got out of the car with Joly and Bousset while Musichetta parked. They headed inside and were directed to a waiting room by signs.

"Grantaire!" A chorus exploded, making him jump, and suddenly he was being choked.

"Easy, easy, he's hurt. He's alive but he's hurt and we need to give him space." Joly announced.

When he looked down, he saw his friends back off. Cosette and Jehan had embraced him first, which made sense. They were the most emotional. But Cosette couldn't hold off and hugged him tightly again. He returned the hug. The second Cosette let go, Jehan was on him. When those two were done, he found himself in Courfeyrac's arms. Knowing he'd probably have to go through all the Amis before he was allowed to breathe again, he waited. After Courfeyrac the hugs ended. Eponine just gave him a light cuff to the arm and that seemed to be everyone there. He knew Feuilly and Bahorel were at work, but he couldn't find Marius or Combeferre. So he asked Eponine.

"Marius is with Papa making a run to the cafeteria because everyone is starting to get hungry and Combeferre is watching the surgery." Cosette answered.

"I didn't think people were allowed to do that." Grantaire said.

"I suppose he pulled rank, I guess. I mean, he interns here and probably knows all the doctors and nurses so they probably felt bad for him so they agreed." Courfeyrac replied.

Grantaire nodded.

"Grantaire. It is good to see you again." Cosette's adopted father, Jean Valjean said from behind, startling him. "Sorry."

Marius hugged him after transferring the food to Eponine. Valjean ruffled his hair fondly and Grantaire smiled a little bit. He knew smiling big was a bad idea for the next two weeks.

"I'm glad you're all right, son." Valjean said.

That felt weird. No one had ever called Grantaire son before. He thought for a minute. It was a nice weird.

"Any word about Enjolras?" Grantaire asked.

"Not since Combeferre called Joly. There's no cell phones allowed so he's a bit cut off from us." Courfeyrac answered.

Something was off about Courfeyrac. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was there. He'd need to find a way to get Courfeyrac alone since Combeferre was out. Someone needed to talk to them. His friends needed someone. It might as well be him.

* * *

**Hey everyone. Just so you know, this will be the last thing I post for a while. I don't write in summer much. Not enough time to myself. I never write with an audience around. And I still haven't decided on whether to remove this or not. I'm sorry I'm a bit of a review whore, but I can't really help that. See you later, alligator.**


	11. Chapter 11

The doctor at Sister Stephen's was just the same as Doctor Lowe. She gave him a bunch of instructions he already knew and he lied and promised to take care of himself. Joly being there helped. So when she finished, she just sent Grantaire back out to the waiting room.

"Hey, 'Fey, can I talk to you for a moment?" Grantaire asked, sitting down away from everyone yet still close enough if there was any news.

"Sure, of course." Courfeyrac followed immediately. "Are you hurt? Can I get you something?"

"No, no, I'm all right. I wanted to ask you something." Grantaire started.

Courfeyrac nodded.

"How are you holding up? And don't tell me you're fine. I know you're not." Grantaire finished.

Courfeyrac shrugged. "I don't know how I'm supposed to answer then."

"Talk to me." Grantaire pressed.

"What do you want me to say? That I feel hopelessly trapped because my best friend is in surgery and she might die and I'm just sitting here? After I let that bitch in?! Sorry." Courfeyrac spat.

"Don't apologize. She is a bitch. But you didn't let her in. She had a gun. You didn't do anything to help her." Grantaire insisted.

Courfeyrac didn't answer him. Grantaire reached out and put his hand on his shoulder. However, for the first time since he'd met Courfeyrac, he flinched. Grantaire pulled back sharply. He hadn't wanted to make his friend physically uncomfortable. Or worse.

Courfeyrac stood and smiled sadly. He kissed the side of Grantaire's head and said, "I'm glad you're okay, R."

Then he walked over to Jehan, said something and walked out. Grantaire followed, feeling a deep pit of guilt build in his stomach. He knew something was wrong, and he hoped to God it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Courfeyrac! Courfeyrac!" He called after his friend.

Courfeyrac turned. "R, don't shout. You could hurt yourself."

"Come back inside. Please come back inside." Grantaire pleaded.

"What?" Courfeyrac frowned.

"Please come back inside. I promise I'll stop trying to be Combeferre. I'm no good at it." Grantaire begged.

"R, relax. I just need some space. I need to recharge." Courfeyrac lied.

"You're an extrovert. Don't lie to me." Grantaire growled.

Courfeyrac sighed. "Look, I'm not feeling very well. I just wanted to be alone."

"I love you, 'Fey, but I can't trust you like this. You look like you're about to take a long walk off a short pier." Grantaire accused.

Courfeyrac blanched. For a moment, nothing was said. Grantaire kept trying to make eye contact but Courfeyrac kept avoiding him.

"Please. Come back inside." Grantaire whispered.

Courfeyrac finally met his eye. It seemed that Enjolras's eyes weren't the only ones that could be powerful. But Grantaire felt sick. This wasn't a good kind of power. Before this, Courfeyrac's brown eyes were like a beautiful forest, with green flecks that seemed like leaves on a tree. In a word, his eyes were enchanting. But now, that was lacking in absolute completion. His eyes were all but lifeless, except of the physical signs he was still alive. His eyes held such pain you could get lost in them forever until you ended your search for the way out. It was a drowning pain, where you could see the surface but could not lift yourself toward it. He'd never seen Courfeyrac like this. It scared him.

"All right. If it'll make you feel better." Courfeyrac plastered a smile on his face.

"Don't do that. There's no reason to smile right now." Grantaire stated.

Courfeyrac nodded and they headed back inside.

Grantaire sighed and got a good look at Courfeyrac again, deeply taking in his friend's appearance. His face and neck seemed red, as if scrubbed raw. His hair curled limply and he'd changed into baggy sweatpants since what happened. He looked absolutely awful.

"R?" Courfeyrac started, stopping just outside the door.

"Yeah?" Grantaire turned back.

"Thanks." Courfeyrac gasped, and when Grantaire looked into his eyes again the pain had lessened.

For now, that was enough.

Grantaire smiled brightly and ignored the pain in his nose.

"Easy, I don't want you to hurt yourself." Courfeyrac protested.

"I'm fine." Grantaire dismissed.

Courfeyrac and Grantaire rejoined their friends. Jehan visibly relaxed and hugged Courfeyrac. It seemed Grantaire wasn't the only one who'd noticed, thankfully. Grantaire looked to Valjean and he shook his head. The smile disappeared and he sat down again, putting his head in his hands. He ran a hand through his hair but stopped when his fingers got tangled. Enjolras's fingers didn't get tangled in his hair. He missed her fingers. And her eyes. And the rest of her. God, he missed her so much.

"Hey." Cosette's voice surprised him and he snapped his head up.

Cosette was smiling gently, nothing could dampen her spirits, and she motioned a question to sit down.

"Of course, feel free." He allowed.

She sat next to him and hugged him. He returned the hug strongly until he thought she was done.

"Grantaire, I know you don't want to hear this, but the cops are here. They want a statement while it's still fresh in your mind." Cosette said.

Grantaire nodded and followed her outside. A stern looking man was waiting outside, dressed in a strictly standard uniform. He had brown hair with some gray at his temples and his skin was tanned, as if he'd spent a lot of it outside. His eyes were brown and Grantaire could feel the discipline coming off of them.

"Nikolas Grantaire?" The man asked.

"That's me." Grantaire answered.

"Please know me as Javert. I am the detective assigned to the case of your abduction and Miss Enjolras's shooting." Javert introduced.

"Is there a question in there?" Grantaire inquired, becoming slightly wary of the policeman.

"No. Simply introduction. I am aware that it was your sister who kidnapped you." Javert stated.

"So am I." Grantaire replied.

"Please, sir, I am trying to help you." Javert tried. That was genuine, and Grantaire allowed his wariness to subside, though it didn't disappear completely.

"Sorry, it's been a long day." Grantaire apologized.

"I understand. Do you know of anywhere she might go? Any information about her at all?" Javert questioned.

"No. I don't. If I did, I would've told the cops who found me. I ran away when I was sixteen and I haven't talked to them since. And even when I lived with them, I tried to stay out of that business." Grantaire explained

"I am not here to judge your character. Simply to find the shooter." Javert tried.

Grantaire snorted. "All cops judge. Look, as I said before, I don't know anything. The people I truly count as my family are in there and we're waiting for our leader to come out of surgery. If you'll excuse me."

He turned and headed back inside.

"I'm sorry, sir. He's just so worried about Enjolras he's lashing out. I'll talk to him." Cosette promised.

He waited for her at the door.

"He is trying to help." Cosette said.

"I hate cops." Grantaire muttered.

"Of course you do. Do you even want to catch Rachel for what she did to Enjolras?" Cosette accused.

"No! Yes! Oh I don't know." Grantaire shouted, leaning against the wall. He slid down and sat against the cold concrete.

Cosette joined him. "Why?"

"I don't- I can't- I just- She's-" Grantaire sputtered. He didn't want to tell his friends of the deal he made with the devil for his own freedom.

Cosette hugged him again. "Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. I forgot she was your sister. I can't imagine turning on papa for anything."

Grantaire allowed himself to be hugged. He'd lied to his friends' before, this time was no different. He lied to everyone, so it's not like he's a decent person.

Except his friends thought he was a decent person. God, this made him worse than before. The worst part was, he didn't care about letting himself go. He wished he was strong enough to rat on his family. But he knew he was too weak too. It made him feel sick with himself.

"Hey, I've got to run home for a little bit. Do you know where my car is?" Grantaire asked, getting an idea.

"Back at your apartment. I'll get someone to drive you home." Cosette chirped, and kissed his ear. He guessed not the cheek due to all the stitches in his face.

Joly was outside in a minute.

"C'mon." Joly said and Grantaire stood. They piled into the van and headed home.

"Wait, this isn't the road to my apartment." Grantaire noticed.

"No it is not. One, your apartments still a crime scene and we can't go in there and two, I'm not letting you out of my sight. I am in charge of your recovery and you're making a complete one, dammit!" Joly growled.

Grantaire shut up, ducking his head. "How'd you know?"

"I know you. When you get too uncomfortable, you drink to not have to deal with it. Except, this time, you're on painkillers. If you drink while those meds are still running through you, you could get seriously sick. Even die. I'm not letting that happen." Joly stated.

Grantaire blushed.

"I know you too well, R." Joly said.

"I suppose you do." Grantaire murmured.

Actually, he'd known exactly what could happen. He remembered wanting to drink to celebrate his new body but the doctor had expressly forbidden them for those reasons. He just didn't care.

"Don't worry. Before we came to get you, we were allowed to get some clothes for you and essentials and they're at our place. You'll stay in the guest room." Joly reassured him.

Grantaire nodded.

Joly, Bousset, and Musichetta were the only ones in the Amis who had a house. It was a comfy house (not small, never small) and it was wonderful. It was two rooms, one large master bedroom and one smaller bedroom. Since the master was enough for the king sized bed that fit all three of them, the second room often went unslept in. It was very close to school and was in a nice little neighborhood. Their neighbors were kind enough and the old geezer on the end of the block was ignored every time he came out. Granted, he bitched at everyone so it wasn't discrimination per say. Joly pulled into the driveway and parked.

"Did you actually want something or did you just want to drink?" Joly asked.

"Both. I needed to get my phone. It has pictures of Enjolras in it. I wanted it so I could get the image of her getting shot out of my head." Grantaire admitted, only slightly lying. He did want to get the image out of his head and he did want to drink. The phone was just an easy way out.

"Oh. I could've gotten that for you when I picked you up. I should've thought of that. I'm sorry." Joly stated.

"Don't apologize. You've had a lot on your mind." Grantaire tried.

Joly hopped out and went inside. A little while later, he returned, bearing Grantaire's phone in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

"Well, since you can't drink, I figured a soda would be all right instead." Joly said, pulling the beverage out of the bag.

Suddenly, his mind flashed.

"_Um, you check the expiration date on that?" He asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible._

"_Nooooo. Should I have?" Enjolras drawled out._

"_Yes. Definitely." Grantaire answered._

_She did. "It's fine."_

"_Oh good." Grantaire smiled._

"_You actually needed me to check the date on it? C'mon R." Enjolras groaned._

"_Look, I just couldn't remember buying it. I didn't want you to be sick or something." He defended._

_Enjolras rolled her eyes._

_She sat down on his bed. "But I'm not going out there for a moment that's for sure."_

"_That's why I got this." He handed her her soda pop, joining her on the bed._

_She took it and opened it. She checked the expiration date and took a swig. He drank from his own beer._

_What blood didn't get splattered onto Courfeyrac was sprayed onto the back wall. Silence so thick you could hear Enjolras's choked breathing. Time seemed to slow down as Enjolras fell backwards into Courfeyrac's arms. Grantaire ran to her and Combeferre and Joly did the same but were forced to back off when Rachel threatened them both with her gun._

"_Stay away from her. Maybe I'll let the little cunt bleed out if I want to." Rachel was saying deep in a dream it seemed._

_Grantaire was only focused on Enjolras. He pressed his hands on her wound, since he had no bandage but it only served to make his hands bloodier. Courfeyrac had her rested against his torso and he kept murmuring, "You're okay, you're okay, everything's fine, it's fine," to her so she wouldn't panic. But she had no energy to panic. Grantaire met her eyes just as they were falling shut. She was losing blood fast_.

_Then she frowned and poured the drink out over Enjolras's chest. Even though she was unconscious, she screamed in agony._

His chest was wound so tight he thought his ribs would cave in. He couldn't breathe. Everything around him was swirling like he was on a spin ride at an amusement park. Blood. Her blood. It was everywhere. It was filling his lungs. It was choking him because he spilled her blood. He was going to be sick. He deserved to die for this. How could he have hurt her so badly?

"R?! Grantaire! Grantaire, you're all right. Breathe, R, breathe! C'mon." He could hear Joly's voice but it was so far away. Eons away.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his face and his chest. Something forced him to look into something calming. Joly's brown eyes. His eyes were strong, like a forest of oak, and he found himself unable to look away. What must have been a hand went from his face and grabbed one of the things on the end of his arm. It was his hand. Joly put it to his own chest. He could feel Joly's strong heartbeat and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"Do what I do. Breathe. Nothing is stopping you. You're not sick, you're not dying. You didn't touch her. Now, breathe in until I reach seven." Joly commanded.

While Joly counted, Grantaire inhaled. Then he stopped and Grantaire held his breath.

"Now breathe out while I count to eleven." Joly ordered.

Grantaire pushed out his breath until there was nothing more but Joly had only reached nine.

"Easy now. I want you to slow down. You have enough air to do this." Joly said and they repeated the exercise until the panic attack was over and Grantaire could breathe again.

"I'm sorry." Grantaire managed.

"Don't apologize. This is why I'm studying to be a doctor. To help people." Joly stated.

"I thought it was to cure hypochondria." Grantaire teased.

Joly smiled. Grantaire yawned.

"I think I'm going to go inside and lay down." Grantaire said.

Joly pursed his lips but nodded. Grantaire grabbed his phone, shoved it into his pocket, and stumbled into the house. Every Ami knew the layout of the house. So he opened the guest bedroom door and collapsed onto the bed. It had been a long time since he'd had panic attacks. He'd started after he'd run away and felt he was constantly on the run because of what he stole. But when he realized his parents weren't coming for him, he managed to control them and bury them. It had worked until now. Well, he wasn't as stressed as he had been before and as he was now. He dug his phone out and opened the picture he had taken of Enjolras sleeping on his chest. It was a nice picture and a good reminder of her beauty but he could still see her blood against his wall. He fell asleep into a dead, dreamless sleep, still feeling the nausea rolling around in his stomach.

He woke up at the sound of many pots and pans falling and a loud curse. He still felt tired but he could manage it. He swung his legs over the side and found his feet without shoes. Musichetta and Bousset must be home. So he just opened the door and headed into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, R, I didn't mean to wake you." Bousset apologized.

"It's all right. What were you doing?" Grantaire asked.

"'Chetta was going to make dinner when Courfeyrac called. Joly and 'Chetta are talking in the other room and I thought I'd help by getting stuff out." Bousset stated.

Grantaire nodded and helped Bousset put everything away.

"Oh good. You're up. I was hoping to get you up soon. I'm going to make dinner." Musichetta said as she came in. She looked a little more relaxed so it must've been good news.

"What happened?" Bousset asked.

"She's out of surgery. It went well. They stopped the bleeding and repaired her rib. If nothing changes, she's going to be just fine. She's gonna be on a respirator to help her lungs for a little while and for the moment, she's still critical but she's on her way to getting better." Joly smiled.

Grantaire felt a large weight lift off of his shoulders. She was going to be okay. For now, that was enough. At least he'd have the chance to throw himself at her feet and beg for forgiveness. He ate with a little more gusto at dinner, since he needed to stay alive in the tiniest chance that Enjolras still liked him.

The next morning, they all gathered their stuff to return to the hospital. Grantaire was feeling much better and didn't even need to take the painkillers Joly had offered. They all got into the van and Joly drove them to the hospital. When they got there, they were directed to the ICU.

As soon as he got to her room, his good mood vanished. Enjolras looked beyond terrible. She looked gaunt and hollow, wires and tubes attached to every part of her, the respirator in her mouth looked frightening in itself, and she looked in great pain. He wanted to cry. His beautiful goddess was little more than a mere mortal right now and he hated himself for it.

"She looks worse than she is. She's going to be okay." Joly whispered in his ear.

He just stood in the doorway, staring. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

"Grantaire!" A large hand clamped down hard on his shoulder, making him flinch.

At first he wasn't sure the voice belonged to man he thought it did. But when he was spun around, he found himself face-to-face with Enjolras's father. He looked furious, disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot from tears. But soon the anger crumpled into grief and Grantaire was pulled into a hug while Monsieur sobbed on his shoulder. Soon after, he saw Madame Enjolras run to him, raise her hand, and suddenly drop it, crying as well. He extended his free arm and she hugged him as well. He waited for them to stop crying while he awkwardly stood there as their crying post.

"I'm so sorry, Grantaire." Madame Enjolras cried. She pulled away first, soon followed by her husband and wiped her eyes furiously with a handkerchief. "When we heard it was your family that sh- hurt Julia, we just couldn't stand it. But it seemed that she wasn't the only one hurt a few days ago."

"It's all right. I understand. It's your daughter. You're allowed to be a little irrational over her." Grantaire soothed.

Madame Enjolras tearfully smiled. Monsieur Enjolras just looked grief-stricken.

"Here. This is James Joly, Édouard Bousset, and Musichetta Sarjana. They're friends of ours. Guys, these are Enjolras's parents." Grantaire introduced.

Monsieur and Madame Enjolras shook their hands.

A doctor knocked. She was young, for a doctor, early thirties maybe. She had brown hair, about Eponine's shade of brown, and brown eyes. Her skin was tannish, maybe she had some Latin American in her blood. She wore black pants with a red blouse under her white doctor coat.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid there can only be two visitors at a time at the moment." The doctor started.

"Here, we'll stand right outside. Her parents should be here." Musichetta started, and her parents' nodded.

"My name is Doctor Sylvia Torres." The doctor stuck out her hand.

"Sebastien." Monsieur Enjolras answered.

"Annette." Madame Enjolras repeated.

Oh. So that was their names.

"Your daughter is very strong, Mr. and Mrs. Enjolras. She's pulled through with few complications. We're watching her very closely for any signs of infection and we should be able to take her out of the ICU in a couple days." Doctor Torres announced.

"Complications? What complications?" Sebastien asked.

"There was an agent in her blood stream we couldn't identify." Doctor Torres admitted.

"Soda." Grantaire said, startling the doctor.

"Excuse me?" She inquired.

"When she got shot, rach- the assailant poured her soda onto her chest." Grantaire explained.

"Thank you. I will look into that." Doctor Torres nodded.

"C'mon Grantaire." Joly tugged at his sleeve and he reluctantly followed Joly to the waiting room. He almost couldn't bear to take his eyes off of her.

"I promise, she'll be all right." Joly assured him.

Grantaire nodded dumbly.

Joly sighed and Bousset and Musichetta went to the cafeteria to pick up some coffee.

They waited for a moment for Sebastien and Annette to come back to the waiting room.

"Did you just arrive, Mr. Enjolras?" Joly asked, trying to be friendly.

"No. We arrived late last night. If you'll excuse us, I'm afraid we must find a hotel room for a couple months. The hotel we spent last night in was only for the night." Sebastien sighed.

"Of course. We understand." Musichetta assured.

"Are there any hotels close to here we could possibly stay in? I'm afraid we don't know the area very well and the rent-a-car doesn't have anything." Sebastien said.

"Here, Bousset and I don't mind showing you around town. I'm sure we could find a suitable hotel close to here." Musichetta offered.

"Thank you so much. I'm very glad Julia has such wonderful friends." Annette said, tearing up. Sebastien wrapped his arms around her.

"We can leave now, if you like so you can get settled and return quickly to her." Bousset said and started to lead them out.

"I'm heading back into her room. I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind." Grantaire said.

"Oh you won't be. Etienne is in there now, I think he spent the night at the hospital." Sebastien called out.

Grantaire frowned. Combeferre needed rest, spending the night here couldn't have been restful.

"If I can get him in here, can you get him to sleep?" Grantaire asked.

"I think I can." Joly agreed.

Grantaire nodded and set off back to Enjolras's room. The hospital was quiet and it sort of creeped him out. He thought hospitals were supposed to be loud. He approached Enjolras's room and heard Combeferre talking to her. This might be harder than he thought.

"My dear, Enjolras, you have to get better. I will do whatever it takes to make you better. Please. Please, I can't live without you." Combeferre was saying. He was crying too.

Grantaire stopped in the doorway. What the hell did he mean? He watched dumbstruck as Combeferre leaned over and kissed her cheek, and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Enjolras, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You must get better. Enjolras… Julia, I love you. I've loved you since freshman year. I love you when you wake me up at five in the morning after a long day yesterday and you're screaming at the coffee maker. I love you when you're on a platform and look like you could take on the world. I love you, Julia. So, please. For me. You must get through this. Otherwise, I think I will never love again."

Grantaire choked. Combeferre loved her? No. No, no, no, no, this couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.

Combeferre turned at the noise and his anguish suddenly turned into detestation. Grantaire felt like running away. An angry Combeferre was not to be reckoned with.

"Why did it have to be you? Of all people, why did it have to be you? I mean, she's not stupid enough to be attracted to danger or a tragic backstory! Why did it have to be you? It's not like you deserve her! All you are is nothing more than a drunken idiotic wreck of a man! You should have heard her complain about you all the time back when we first met! Maybe you would've figured out that you weren't supposed to be with people like us! She's a revolutionary! You're pathetic! At least with me, she would've been safe. We all would've been safe. If you had just stayed away from her, like she wanted you to, then she would never have gotten shot! Her blood is on your hands! Remember that Grantaire! If she dies, you killed her!"

His entire mind had shut down. How could… how could he say these things? They were true, of course, but Combeferre had never acted this way before. He felt like crying, punching something and drinking all at the same time. When Combeferre didn't get an answer, he simply huffed and sat back down next to Enjolras.

"Get out. And don't come back." Combeferre whispered.

Grantaire didn't need telling twice. He all but ran back to the waiting room. Joly frowned as he came back.

"R? Where's Combeferre?" Joly asked.

"Where he belongs. Take me home." Grantaire gasped out, desperately trying to control his composure.

"Wait, hold on-" Joly started.

"I said take me home!" Grantaire shouted, digging his nails into his palm to keep calm.

"All right." Joly stuttered but walked out with Grantaire. "What happened?"

"Just take me home. And I mean to my apartment. I know crime scenes don't take that long to clean up, I've been to a few, and I know you're just trying to help but I want to go home." Grantaire replied, getting into the car.

Joly looked frightened but started the van anyways. All through the drive home, Joly kept sending worried glances his way but Grantaire got tired of them and just shut his eyes tight. It was also a way to not cry in front of Joly. He was pathetic enough, as Combeferre mentioned. He didn't need to be a stupid emotional girl right now.

When Joly pulled up to his apartment, Grantaire didn't wait for Joly to park, he basically jumped out of the car and headed up the stairs. He'd stolen his keys from Joly earlier that morning, when they were all getting their stuff so as long as he got up the stairs first he could manage. He could Joly calling after him at the bottom of the stairs but he'd already unlocked his apartment so he opened the door, went inside, shut it and locked it again. He stared at his clean apartment. It hadn't changed much, but the stench of disinfectant had faded to barely noticeable and the blood was cleaned up. Go crime scene techs. He stumbled into the kitchen and fetched the last two beers he had. Funny, Cosette had bought more. They must have taken it home or more than likely took it back. The two beers was all the alcohol in the house. The rest had been drunk at the party. God, that awful party. His fault. The entire thing was his fault. He took a swig of the first beer and all but collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. In a dream, he could hear Joly pounding on the door but he couldn't be bothered to care. He didn't deserve friends knocking after him. He was everything Combeferre said he was. God, how could he say those things? Combeferre had been such a champion for him when he figured out Grantaire had very low self-esteem. He had always tried to remind him that he was loved and he had a place among the Amis. And now he'd gone back on those words? He'd known it. He'd known it from the moment he met them. He had been deluding himself. He was never going to be good enough for them. Enjolras had only dated him out of pity or obligation, he wasn't sure which but he knew it wasn't because she liked him. Nobody liked him. He would have been better off dead. They'd be better off if he was dead. All the Amis. They wouldn't have to look over their shoulders all the time waiting for Rachel or his parents to come back. It's not like they'd miss him. He took another swig of the beer but realized he'd already drank all of it. So he just opened the other one. Drinking didn't help at all. Usually it made him feel numb to the world but there wasn't enough strong liquor in the house to do it. Two beers would barely affect him at all. When he finally picked his wretched self off the floor, he'd go out and buy two cases of absinthe. That ought to work.

Suddenly, something wrenched the beer can out of his hands and grabbed him by his shirt front, hoisting him into a sitting position against his cabinets. A livid Eponine then met his eyes with a powerful glare.

"Look, I know you hate me but can you save the yelling for later? I'm kind of at my yell limit." Grantaire pleaded.

"Shut up." Eponine growled. "Don't you dare do this to yourself. You're so much better than this. And I've seen a lot of people. I've seen people so cruel they aren't worth the bullet you use to shoot them. I've seen a lot of lousy idiots who couldn't tie their own shoes with directions printed on the tongue. I've even seen people so self-righteous that they can't even comprehend their own mistakes! Now I've known you a long time, Nikolas Grantaire and you don't even come close to people like that. You're kind, sweet, intelligent, and very brave. You're generous and handsome and I can name your good points for an hour. And yes, we all have flaws, every single one of us but that doesn't mean that you're not worth our friendship. I don't know where you got those ideas but you destroy them. I might have been seriously hurt but I wasn't thanks to you."

"Thanks to me, you were put in danger in the first place." He snapped back.

"Grantaire if my parents were to show up tomorrow would you blame me for it?" Eponine asked.

"No, of course not, it's not your fault." Grantaire immediately supplied.

"Then why is it yours?" Eponine pressed.

"You don't understand, Ep. I stole from them. For the first few months after I ran away I would sleep with one eye open so I could always watch my door which I locked three times a night. I did something unforgivable in their eyes. And I'm not even counting what I did with my gender!" He screamed.

"R, that doesn't explain why it's your fault." She insisted.

"I did something so terrible it was just a matter of time before they showed up. If I had never met you guys, you never would've been put in danger. Enjolras wouldn't be shot!" He shouted.

"But that still doesn't explain why this is your fault." She repeated.

"I didn't change my last name!" He shouted, and as if a dam burst and tears once again started flowing from his eyes, and he dropped his head in shame. Eponine tried to hug him but he shoved her aside. He didn't deserve her friendship. "Maybe I should've just let Rachel kill me."

"Oh, God, R-" Eponine started, but he stood up sharply and headed to his room.

"I'm going to bed." He said lifelessly.

"R-" Eponine tried.

"Leave me alone." He spat back.

"No." She said determinedly.

"Excuse me?" He asked, surprised.

"No. You heard me." She was staring him down and he did his best to avoid her raking glare.

"Ep-" He started but was cut off.

"I said no. You are my friend. I don't care if you don't think you're worthy of it. I need you. We need you. Enjolras needs you." She insisted.

"I got her killed!" He yelled back.

"Last time I checked, she was still alive and kicking. Still fighting. She would never give up on you so neither are we." She stated.

"Ep- I don't- I can't-" He sputtered, trying to voice his feelings. He had already given up, why couldn't they?

"Come on. I'm getting everyone together. Joly, get everyone over here." Eponine ordered. He could see Joly already on the phone. "We're going to remind you how much we love you. You didn't pull the trigger. You didn't send your sister after us. You are just as much a victim as Enjolras is. Please. Let us help you."

He wanted to say no. He didn't deserve this. He was worthless, and he never should've entered their lives. But somehow, he found himself whispering, "okay."

Eponine smiled gently and nodded. "Lay down on the floor."

"Huh?" He asked, confused.

"Lay down on the floor and trust me." Eponine said.

Again, he found himself accepting without really meaning to and he laid down on his back. Eponine soon joined him, snuggling up to his right side in a tight ball. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and just allowed himself to breathe. He felt guilty but it seemed to comfort Eponine. Joly unlocked the door and got under Eponine's legs, burrowing his head into Grantaire's right leg. Courfeyrac and Jehan showed up next. They didn't need any words, they simply started cuddling with Grantaire. Courfeyrac curled into the other side of his chest, his head right over his heart, and Jehan snuggled into Courfeyrac. Jehan had brought a pen and after intertwining his and Grantaire's legs, he started writing on Grantaire's hand. Grantaire couldn't see what he was writing, but the pen tickled in stanzas so it must have been poetry. It also must have been joined by some doodles. The pen tickled all over his arm.

"You have such beautiful skin, you know that?" Jehan remarked casually.

He snorted.

"No, I mean it. Your skin is great. It's gorgeous." Jehan protested.

He tried for a smile but it failed. He wasn't in the mood for compliments.

"Here. Anyone who thinks that Grantaire is a horrible human being and doesn't deserve us as friends, raise your hand." Eponine shouted.

Grantaire slowly started to raise his hand. Then he felt a strong pinch on his right thigh, so hard he kneed Joly in the head pulling back.

"What was that for?" Grantaire demanded.

"You said Enjolras was trying to classically train you not to be self-deprecating. Well, while she in indisposed, I will take over for her." Joly answered, rubbing his head.

"We all will. By force, we will give you greater self-esteem." Courfeyrac teased.

Grantaire smiled and found this time it stayed. He had amazing friends who loved him. He didn't get why they loved him, but his heart swelled with the pure adoration they were showing him. He wanted to cry but he figured that'd be a bad idea. His face was already starting to hurt from the first time.

"I just realized something." Grantaire murmured.

"What?" Courfeyrac asked.

"How did you guys get in here? I locked the door." Grantaire inquired.

"That was me. Joly called me panicking and I let myself in." Eponine shrugged.

"How?" Grantaire pressed. If they kicked his deadbolt in, his landlady was going to pitch a fit.

"You know, there are so many amazing things you can do with a simple lock picking kit." Eponine grinned.

He snorted and gave her a half-hearted smack.

Musichetta and Bousset arrived soon after. The room was quiet, no one greeted them, and they simply settled into the make-shift dog pile everyone had begun. Bousset got on the other side of Joly and got under Jehan's legs. He and Joly started holding hands and Bousset's free hand started rubbing circles on Jehan's leg. Musichetta laid down near his head, lifted him gently, and got her stomach under him. He was so close to her he could hear her heartbeat. It was incredibly soothing. Then she started to run her fingers through his hair and he slipped into a feeling that wasn't just contentment or love. It was something he'd never felt before. Whatever it was, it felt good. Peaceful, almost. Serene. He barely noticed when Marius and Cosette showed up. Marius whispered something, someone answered and silence reigned. Then he felt Marius (it had to be Marius, Cosette's hands were much smaller) pry his arm off of Eponine and Marius threw his long legs around Eponine and linked Grantaire's with his own. He was spread sort of wide, but he hardly cared. Then there was someone else on Musichetta suddenly. Cosette had spread out over Musichetta and then Cosette's fingers were in his hair. Gradually, he realized someone was singing lowly. He didn't recognize the language and that's when he realized it was Marius. He was a law student but he had two language minors, Arabic and Romani, as to help those with immigration issues. Marius never really said why he'd done that, only ever answering with a shrug and a 'just want to help'. So how he knew the intricacies of whatever language he was singing, Grantaire had no idea. But it was so nice. The rhythm was slow, the words soft and it sort of placed him under a contentment spell. He didn't think he'd ever been this okay with eight people all over his body. Granted, this was the first time eight people were on his body so it wasn't like he had anything else to draw from. His family had never done anything like this. They never truly showed him they loved him. They didn't want him to have high self-esteem. Well, that wasn't true necessarily. They wanted her to have high self-esteem, in dresses and dealing drugs.

"I love you, Nikolas." Musichetta said, so soft he barely heard her.

He smiled and accepted. He didn't deserve it but he decided now was not a time to ruin this with his stupid girlie feelings.

"Seconded." Chimed in Cosette.

"Thirded." Eponine added.

"Thirded? That's not a word." Grantaire said.

"It is now." Eponine smiled and stretched to kiss his neck, the only part of exposed skin she could reach.

He smiled at her and closed his eyes. This felt perfect. He felt loved. He wasn't sure how he did it, but he just pushed away the negative side of him for a moment and allowed himself to be loved for the moment.

"Where's Combeferre?" Courfeyrac whispered after a while, bringing him out of that feeling. His heart started pounding and he could feel the panic rising in his chest. Combeferre wouldn't want to be caught dead next to him now and he didn't want to know exactly how far Combeferre would go to get Grantaire out of his sight and Enjolras's life.

"Didn't answer my text. Hopefully, he's fallen asleep by now. He can't help her if he's in the hospital too." Joly hissed.

Relief flowed through his system. Combeferre wasn't coming. And he could avoid the confrontation again. He never wanted to get Combeferre's wrath again. Everything he had said was true. He knew it, Grantaire knew it. That didn't change the fact that it hurt. Sometimes it was just easier to lie to yourself.

* * *

**Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear lonely girl (that's only because I'm far away from my friends right now), happy birthday to me. I suppose this is my birthday present to myself. Oh fuck, I seem really pathetic. Sorry. Well, I suppose I couldn't keep too far away today. Any questions just leave a review, actually just leave a review anyways. The more reviews I have, the less likely I am to delete this.**


	12. Chapter 12

That loving feeling didn't last. He was too scared to go to the hospital and risk seeing Combeferre again so he just stayed locked in his room, and got more and more worried about Enjolras. He stayed in little contact with his friends, choosing instead to work on his schoolwork since he had the down time. His teachers had given him as many extensions as he needed but he felt that he needed to work harder because it was the one thing that he had other than his friends. He worked on a paper about the effect of modernism on artists in the fact of how little art is seen on the people until he had to go to the hospital to get his stitches out. He was about to head out soon when his phone rang. He snatched it and answered it.

"Hello?"

"R? Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay." Emma sounded close to crying.

"I'm okay, Em. I'm fine." He assured her.

"Oh thank God. Your friend James called last week and said you were hurt. Are you sure you're okay?" Emma demanded.

"Yeah, yeah, Em, I'm fine. They broke my nose and I needed a few stitches but that's all. I can even come into work if you want me to." He promised.

"No! No! I don't want to see you at work for at least another week and a half. Two weeks at best. And don't worry, you're on paid leave. You have medical insurance, right?" She asked.

"Yes, Em, I have medical insurance. I'm covered. Financially, I am perfectly all right." He said certainly.

"And not financially?" Emma asked carefully.

"I'm… good as can be." He lied.

"Okay. And I swear to God, if I see you in my shop in your uniform, I am going to kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for a month!" Emma threatened.

"Yes, ma'am." He murmured.

"Oh Grantaire I'm so glad you're all right. When you didn't come into work this week, I was so worried. Usually you always call and tell me what's going on." Emma rambled.

"I swear I'm fine, Em." He said. "And I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier. I just forgot but that's not a good excuse."

"Think nothing of it. You've had much more on your mind lately. I understand." She dismissed.

"Thanks." He muttered.

"You got everything you need? Do you need food? I can run by your place." Emma quickly asked.

"No, no, I'm all right. I've got food and everything. I promise." Technically a lie but since it wasn't like Emma should spend money on him so it didn't matter.

"Okay. Call me with updates, okay?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, of course sure. I'm getting my stitches out today. I'm heading down there now." Grantaire said.

"Oh, don't call people and drive. And when you're done, swing by the shop and come see me. Etienne and I are gonna save you a sandwich." Emma ordered before hanging up.

He chuckled and shook his head at her antics. Emma was a nice lady and a fantastic boss. Getting paid leave was beyond what he could've expected.

He grabbed his keys and went down stairs. He headed out to his car and was startled by a loud honking. He snapped his head over and saw Courfeyrac at the wheel.

"Get in losers, we're going medical." Courfeyrac grinned.

Grantaire laughed. "All right fine. I can't resist."

He climbed into the passenger seat and Courfeyrac flashed him a big smile. But in essence he looked terrible. He had heavy bags under his eyes and he seemed jumpy almost.

"You all right?" Grantaire asked.

"I just haven't been sleeping well." Courfeyrac dismissed.

"All right." Grantaire let it alone. Courfeyrac was probably having nightmares. Trauma did that to people. So he just allowed Courfeyrac to change the subject as they drove to the hospital.

"I think somethings wrong with Combeferre." Courfeyrac said.

Ah, shit.

"What do you mean?" Grantaire asked.

"He's… changed. Somethings wrong with him. He barely eats, he doesn't really sleep, and I'm really worried. He acts like he's done something wrong but if I even mention any of the Amis he flies off the handle. Combeferre doesn't know how to get angry. I've never seen him like this." Courfeyrac confessed.

"Everybody knows how to get angry, 'Fey. It's natural. And maybe Combeferre is just expressing his grief that way." Grantaire tried but Courfeyrac was on a roll.

"And don't even get me started on when I've tried to tell him about you! I mean, the first time I told him about what happened to you, he said that he didn't care and that I was never to mention you again. And when Marius and Cosette came to visit yesterday, Cosette brought you up because she just wanted him to know that you were okay and he literally scared Marius off. He's completely stopped answering his phone. And Enjolras is… she's just getting worse." Courfeyrac sounded like he was about to start crying. Which was pretty terrible considering Courfeyrac was driving and they were near other cars.

"Okay, 'Fey, I need you to drive right now. Focus on that right now, okay? Getting into a car crash is only going to make it worse. Breathe." Grantaire murmured, trying to control himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Courfeyrac rambled.

"Courfeyrac, stop talking. Focus on driving or pull over." Grantaire said, his panic starting to bleed through his voice.

Courfeyrac inhaled sharply and nodded. The rest of the drive was in silence. Grantaire got increasingly worried about Courfeyrac. He seemed way out of whack, like there was a tick Grantaire couldn't shake about him. When they arrived at the hospital, Courfeyrac allowed himself a few breaths before he nodded that he was going to be okay.

Grantaire then realized something and tried to put a hand on Courfeyrac's forehead. "Maybe you're coming down with something."

Then Courfeyrac swatted him away. Hard. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"

That surprised him. Courfeyrac welcomed touch. He adored it with every fiber of his being.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Maybe you're right, maybe I am coming down with something. I don't feel well. Haven't since Enjolras got… shot." Courfeyrac gasped out.

"Hey, it's all right. Not sleeping leads to all sorts of things." Grantaire promised.

Courfeyrac nodded.

"Here, why don't you stay in the car? I won't be long and sending you near sick people is probably not the best idea. Just maybe take a nap." Grantaire said.

Courfeyrac sighed, nodded again, and turned back to the car, but stumbled and fell. "Sorry, was a little dizzy."

"Courfeyrac, give me the keys. I'll drive you home when I get through here." Grantaire said and Courfeyrac just climbed into the passenger seat and leaned the seat back. Hopefully, he'd fall asleep quickly.

Getting his stitches out was quick, he only had a max of three stitches on each cut. He sat still and quiet while it was happening so it could go faster. He debated going over to Enjolras's room and finally, the worried lovesick part of him won and he decided to go and visit her. Combeferre was asleep on the cot and Annette was there.

"Hello, Madame." Grantaire whispered.

Annette gasped in surprise.

"Sorry I didn't mean to startle you." He apologized.

"It's all right. We've barely left her these past few days. I'm not surprised I'm a little jumpy." Annette admitted.

"Where's Mr. Enjolras?" He tried.

"Getting some food down at the cafeteria. Thankfully, before he went down, he convinced Etienne to lie down. He fell asleep rather quickly after that." She informed. It seemed she had no idea that he and Combeferre had fallen out.

"Etienne? Oh yeah that's his first name. Sorry, we usually go by last names." He said.

Annette just smiled and nodded.

"So she's still in ICU." He stated.

"Yeah. The soda, I suppose, in her system, is hurting her immune system. The doctors say that they've never seen something like this. I think they mean that no one else has ever been stupid enough to spill their soda on an open wound. You see, she's… she's developed an infection." Her voice shook.

Grantaire nodded and waited for a bit. He looked and Enjolras against his better judgement. She still looked as bad she first did, actually if anything, she was worse. She was sweating (Enjolras was an ugly sweater), shivering, and she seemed restless even though she was stationary. Her respirator seemed to be choking her. He knew it wasn't but it was hard to stop those thoughts. They sat in silence for a bit. Sebastien returned with some of that disgusting hospital food.

"Hello, Grantaire." Sebastien nodded.

"You know what? Why don't you two call the shop where I work for food sometimes? We deliver and as soon as you say you're Enj-Julia's parents, she'll take care of you. Whatever you want." Grantaire scribbled Emma's phone onto a spare piece of paper he found and handed it to Sebastien.

"Thank you, Grantaire." Sebastien smiled sadly.

Combeferre then shuffled on his cot and seemed close to waking up. Fear raced through his heart.

"I've got to go. Courfeyrac is waiting for me back in the car. I should get him home." Grantaire excused, trying to hide his panic. He did not want to get another verbal lashing.

They nodded and he left as quick as he could. He approached the car, and unlocked it. Courfeyrac was still asleep in the passenger seat. Courfeyrac's eyes were darting around under his lids, and his hands were limply swatting at something. Nightmare.

"Courfeyrac." He shook him lightly. "Courfeyrac."

Courfeyrac gasped and jerked up. Grantaire then gently pressed his hand to Courfeyrac's forehead. He didn't feel warm or anything but maybe the fever just hadn't truly hit yet. Courfeyrac was shivering enough to make that believable.

"Come on. I'm taking you home." Grantaire said.

Courfeyrac nodded and brought his seat up. "I have a headache."

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked.

"Don't remember it." Courfeyrac muttered.

"Let me get you home so Marius and, more importantly, Cosette can take care of you." Grantaire promised.

"Marius lives with Cosette and her dad right now. He's still pretty shaken up." Courfeyrac shrugged.

"Well, I'll call someone to watch over you." Grantaire said.

"No thanks. I'm just gonna finish this nap in my room." Courfeyrac yawned.

"All right. Swing by the meeting tonight, will you?" Grantaire asked. It would be the first meeting they had since Enjolras got shot. Everyone would be checking in at the back room of the Musain to convey how they were dealing with their grief and if they needed help with anything. And hopefully, Courfeyrac would show up and the others could really help comfort him. Grantaire had fucked this up the first time.

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it." Courfeyrac smiled tiredly.

"Hey, is Combeferre coming?" Grantaire inquired, deciding on whether he would go.

"No. He texted me this morning and said that he wasn't going to leave Enjolras since her condition could change at any moment. I'm really glad someone's with her." Courfeyrac as he stumbled out of the car. Courfeyrac waved, he waved back and Courfeyrac disappeared into the apartment complex. He would have worried but Courfeyrac seemed so tired, he expected he'd have to send someone to pick him up later.

After he headed to his work, as Emma requested. Emma fawned over him and he was so glad he completely forgot about work and didn't come in with his stitches. Emma might have had a heart attack. Actually, he'd spent his free time sleeping. When he wasn't in class or working on his homework, usually he was napping. (After the third day, he looked up his symptoms to make sure he wasn't sick or anything and found out that was one way people grieved.) Etienne had a meatball sub ready and paid for by the time he got in. Etienne went back behind the counter and he and Emma went up to the break room.

"You sure you're okay? When James called me, he seemed pretty terrified." Emma fussed.

"What exactly did James tell you?" Grantaire asked, Joly's first name feeling foreign on his lips.

"That you were beaten by awful people and to not expect you into work for at least a week. He told me you even needed stitches in your face." Emma said.

"It wasn't me he was worried about. When- when I got beat up, Enjolras, she was… she was shot, trying to defend me. She's really not doing well. She's still on a respirator and she has an infection and she actually might die so I'm not the one that everyone's freaking out over." He admitted, feeling tears come back but he fought them off. He already cried enough, he wasn't going to be weaker.

Emma gasped and she flew out of her seat and hugged him with all her might. Then she suddenly pulled back.

"Oh my God, am I hurting you?" Emma freaked.

"No, it was mostly just my face. My nose still needs some time but I'm practically healed. I'm okay." He promised.

Emma started crying.

"I promise, I'm fine. I'm okay." He repeated.

"I know. I'm just so thankful you're okay." Emma hugged him tightly.

Surprising himself, he hugged her back just as tightly.

"Thanks, Mom." He whispered.

She only hugged him tighter.

When Emma got called back down to help Etienne, he finished his sandwich and left after giving Emma a quick kiss on the cheek. She just lightly gave him a cuff to the arm and smiled. He then went back to his apartment for a nap until the meeting started. When he got there, Joly, Bousset, Musichetta, Bahorel and Feuilly were already there. Eponine, Cosette and Marius followed soon after.

"Now all we need is Jehan, Courfeyrac and Combeferre." Marius said as he was getting settled.

"Combeferre's not coming. I saw 'Fey earlier today and he said Combeferre's staying with Enjolras. Actually, I hope 'Fey doesn't come either. He looked terrible earlier. Like he was sick with the flu." Grantaire chimed in.

"Courf was sick?" Joly asked, biting his lip.

"I don't know. He looked sick but he didn't have a fever. I hope he's okay. He says he hasn't been sleeping well." Grantaire replied.

"Have any of us?" Bahorel asked tiredly.

"Not by my reckoning." Jehan said as he came in, wilting down onto the very beat-up couch. His braid hung limply down and the flowers were missing. He looked terrible. They all did really.

A thick silence followed. Eponine broke it by crying. Cosette immediately threw her arms around her as Marius did.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's just- I didn't do anything! I was just standing there, and all I did was watch her get shot! I just stood there! And I've at least had experience with this. I should've done something. But I didn't. I didn't do anything." Eponine cried.

"It's okay. I didn't do anything either." Courfeyrac's voice startled them. It sounded wrong. Slower, softer than normal, almost slurred. He seemed dazed and confused.

"God, 'Courf if you're sick, don't come down here. You need rest." Joly started, his hypochondria long gone. This was why he became a doctor.

"Don't think 'm sick." Courfeyrac mumbled, frowning. He stumbled coming in and he blinked hard, as if trying to clear his head.

Grantaire almost choked in fear. There was Courfeyrac, standing there in the doorway to the backroom of the Musain, with blood dripping down from his hands. Grantaire raced to his friend and shoved his sleeves up to reveal blood gushing from two long gashes on his arms. A collective gasp was heard and suddenly he wasn't alone.

"Grantaire, give me your belt." Joly demanded.

Grantaire immediately ripped his belt off and Joly wrapped it around Courfeyrac's right arm, and Feuilly provided the second to be wrapped around his left. Eponine was on the phone to the paramedics.

"No, don't. It's okay. I wasn't attacked or nothing. Stop. My fault. All my fault." Courfeyrac was mumbling, his eyes closing.

"'Fey, did you drive here?" Grantaire asked, as his blood loss seemed pretty severe.

Courfeyrac shook his head slowly.

"Oh my God, he walked here. From his apartment? That's like two miles. Aren't you guys more near campus?" Feuilly asked, incredulous.

"Yeah we are." Marius answered quietly, his face pale and his hands shaking.

"How in the hell did he walk for two miles without anyone noticing he was bleeding?" Grantaire snapped.

No one had an answer for him.

"The ambulance is a few minutes out." Eponine chimed in.

"Courfeyrac, stay with us. Please stay with us. Don't fall asleep." Joly was saying.

Courfeyrac didn't answer, his eyes open but unseeing, slowing slipping closed.

Cosette burst into tears. So did Musichetta.

Seconds seemed to turn into hours as they waited for the paramedics. Courfeyrac went limp as his eyes closed, and nothing they did woke him. The belts did help stop the blood flow but until the paramedics showed up, there was nothing else they could do. Finally, after three eternities, the paramedics arrived and shoved them out of the way. Grantaire watched helplessly as Courfeyrac was taken away on a backboard and loaded into the ambulance.

"What now?" Jehan whispered, silent tears running down his face.

"Back to the hospital, I guess." Grantaire said.

"Oh God! What are we going to tell Combeferre? What are we going to tell Enjolras? What if he dies and she doesn't? What if she dies and he doesn't? What if… what if… oh my God." Marius sobbed, collapsing. The only reason he didn't hit the floor hard was because Jehan and Feuilly caught him before he could.

"Who's… who's calm enough to drive?" Eponine asked shakily.

"I am." Joly answered.

"Me too." Grantaire replied.

No one else seemed to be. Bahorel looked nauseous, Feuilly was just as pale as Courfeyrac had been and shaking just as hard, Bousset was hanging onto Musichetta to make sure she didn't fall over either and Eponine and Cosette were clinging to each other like lifeboats on a sinking ship.

"Bahorel, Feuilly, and 'Chetta you can come in my car." Grantaire announced.

"Jehan, Marius, Eponine, and Cosette you guys can fit in the van." Joly said.

That sounded a little off, so Grantaire counted.

"Joly, you forgot your boyfriend. Where's Bousset gonna fit?" Grantaire asked.

"Shit. I'm sorry, babe." Joly frowned, knowing there wasn't enough seats between the cars.

"It's okay. Just my luck, I guess. I can ride in the trunk." Bousset promised.

"That's not safe." Joly protested.

"I'm not staying behind." Bousset growled.

"Is he even gonna wanna see us? I mean, he did just show up nearly… dead." Cosette asked quietly but everyone heard her.

"He came to see us. That means that even through the blood loss, the missing serotonin, the pain he's in, he still wanted to see us. When they put him on the medication, he'll want to see us. We should go. Maybe not this exact second but we should be there when he wakes up from surgery." Joly replied.

"Surgery?" Eponine asked, almost fearful.

"For the blood loss and to stitch up his wounds. It should be routine." Joly reassured everyone.

"Should?" Bahorel gasped, speaking for the first time since Courfeyrac came in.

"Nothing is certain. Every doctor will tell you that." Joly spat, almost hatefully. Grantaire understood why. Even routine operations could go wrong, and it terrified him. Also, 'Courf had lost a lot of blood.

"If- when he makes it, will he be okay?" Musichetta asked.

"As long as he stays on his meds, with constant supervision, he should be all right in about a month." Joly responded.

Then suddenly, as if something flipped a switch, everything came together.

"Christ!" Grantaire bellowed, feeling hot tears chomping at the bit to be released and fall down his face.

"What?" Was the collective response.

"He wasn't sick! I got it wrong! I thought he had like the flu or something! But he didn't! It was what you said about his meds! It wasn't the flu! It was withdrawal! And I left him alone because I was too stupid to recognize what was wrong with him!" Grantaire shouted, and then kicked over one of the chairs to express his anger. Then another. He was about to do a third but Feuilly grabbed him and embraced him tightly. The tears won their battle as they streamed down his face without mercy. He felt awful.

"It's not your fault." Eponine said.

"It is my fault! I left him alone! If I had gone with him, or just taken him home with me this wouldn't have happened! I knew something was off with him! But I just took his word that he was sick. I saw something in him when we first came to the hospital and I didn't press him today because I was too afraid to push him again! And I had made a mental note to call someone to pick him up, or at least check on him, and I completely forgot to do that! I got so wrapped up in my own damn life that I forgot about him!" Grantaire shoved Feuilly away and walked over to the doorway.

"What are we gonna do, guys? Enjolras is nearly dead, Combeferre won't leave the hospital, and now Courfeyrac- God, Courfeyrac… I mean our big three is gone! What happens to us now?" Jehan wailed.

No one answered him. Then Grantaire steeled himself. His friends needed someone. Combeferre was obviously not a choice at the moment. His self-pity would never help them. He needed to protect them, if only because no one else could.

"We're gonna be okay." He announced.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"I'm not gonna lie to you guys. You're my best friends. My family. And I've seen a lot of shit in my life. And I refuse to let this destroy us. Enjolras is always saying that we can never give up the fight. And I will not let this family die. As long as I am allowed to, I'm going to do everything I can to keep us together. And it'll be hard. I mean, our big three are out of commission. But that doesn't mean that we have to stop. I mean, our events are probably going to slow down, but we don't have to stop completely. Enjolras would want us to continue. She'd never give up the fight. We can't either."

"R's right. Come on. Let's get into our cars and head down." Feuilly said, with the ghost of a proud smile on his face.

They all piled into the cars as Joly had figured out, poor Bousset ended up getting squeezed between Eponine and Marius, and drove down. The ride in Grantaire's Element was quiet.

"That was a nice speech, 'Taire." Feuilly voiced.

"Thanks. I wasn't kidding. We need a guide. Might as well be me." Grantaire shrugged.

"Oh God. Who's going to tell Combeferre? He's going to be heartbroken." Musichetta cried, tears still running freely down her cheeks.

"I will." Grantaire said, determined. He didn't care. Combeferre needed to know and he didn't want to send anyone else to face what he was afraid of. He wasn't that terrible.

They arrived rather quickly, with Joly followed close behind.

"I'm going to Enjolras's room. Someone has to tell 'Ferre." Grantaire announced.

Joly nodded and herded everyone else into the waiting room. He could obviously trust Joly to keep everyone else safe. Also, the waiting room was safe enough. Lots of people crying and such.

Grantaire headed over to Enjolras's room, after checking that she was still in the same room. Sebastien and Annette must've headed home for the night as only Combeferre was there.

"I thought I told you to not come back." Combeferre growled.

"I need to talk to you. This is important." Grantaire said, pushing his fear down.

"What?" Combeferre snarled. If Grantaire wasn't terrified, he would say Combeferre's voice was like that of a wounded, cornered animal.

"Something's happened to Courfeyrac." Grantaire stated.

Something changed in Combeferre's body language. He gestured for Grantaire to sit. "What's wrong?"

Grantaire took a deep breath. "At the meeting tonight, Courfeyrac- he showed up- fuck this, I'm going to be blunt. Courfeyrac tried to commit suicide."

Combeferre's face went from worried to horror to nauseated. "Oh God. Is he-"

"We called an ambulance and he's here right now. In surgery. I just knew you needed to know." Grantaire reassured.

"Yeah, thanks. I- oh dear God." Combeferre started crying.

"He'll be okay. And so will Enjolras." Grantaire insisted.

"No. I yelled at him yesterday. I've been lashing out at everyone I love because of what happened and it's not fair. I know what I said to you is cruel and unfair. But I can't help but despise you because of what happened with your stupid sister." Combeferre sobbed.

"I don't blame you for that." Grantaire said.

"Fuck you! Fuck you for being such a good friend! I'm a terrible friend and a terrible person and you're amazing and she loves you for a fucking reason." Combeferre exploded.

"Hey, 'Ferre-" Grantaire started.

"No! Fuck you! Enjolras is so fucking sick, and I feel like I'm going to die every time something goes wrong. I'm scared all the fucking time that she's going to die and I'm going to be left here alone and we're going to fall apart because she's not here anymore. And you come in with this perfect friend routine being supportive and knowledgeable and actually seeming to care about our friends instead of biting their heads off every time anyone speaks!" Combeferre stood and stormed around.

A gagging noise got his attention next. Enjolras almost seemed to be whimpering through the ventilator.

"Oh, shush, shush, sorry sweetheart. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Combeferre's voice dropped to a near whisper and he started gently petting her hair.

She quieted after that.

"She hates every time I raise my voice. Which, unfortunately, has happened a lot more than usual lately." Combeferre breathed, still petting her.

Grantaire quietly walked over to her and reached out.

"Don't touch her! Don't you fucking touch her!" Combeferre snapped.

Grantaire flinched back.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm a terrible, horrible person and an awful friend." Combeferre turned away and ran a hand through his hair.

In a sick moment, Grantaire was reminded of the white shirt event Enjolras was so proud of. **Inadequate**. Combeferre always had issues with being good enough. And now he couldn't protect Enjolras from getting shot, the infection… Combeferre hadn't been angry at him. He'd been angry at himself and turned his anger outwards because he couldn't handle his own grief and guilt. The fear in his gut dissolved instantly and turned into guilt and pity. Grantaire went to his friend but Combeferre waved him off.

"Look, Grantaire, I'm still uncontrollably furious at you. I love you, I always have, but right now I can't bear to see you right now. I'm sorry for what I said, it wasn't at all true, but I just need to be alone right now." Combeferre sighed.

"With a few conditions." Grantaire stated.

Combeferre turned and frowned.

"One, you eat something. You're skinnier than Beanpole Jones." Grantaire said.

"Who is Beanpole Jones?" Combeferre asked.

"Someone I went to high school with. So skinny the teachers called him Beanpole. I actually forget what his real name is." Grantaire regaled.

"You said a few?" Combeferre prompted.

"Yeah. Second is getting a few hours of shut-eye." Grantaire listed.

"I can't. She might need me." Combeferre dismissed.

"When you graduate med school, you're going to work at a hospital right?" Grantaire asked.

"Of course. Private practice never really suited me." Combeferre nodded.

"So you trust hospitals? And the people who work in them?" Grantaire pressed.

"Of course, Grantaire-" Combeferre started.

"Then why don't you trust them here? Enjolras is in very capable hands. You know Daddy's money can and will buy her the best medical care he can. If she was getting anything less than perfect, he'd haul her out of here and to the best doctor money can provide. But he keeps her here. Her father trusts this place. Why don't you?" Grantaire inquired.

Combeferre didn't answer him.

"Look. Just because you love her doesn't mean you're the only one who can take care of her. Let these people do their jobs. Get some sleep." Grantaire insisted.

Combeferre then just nodded and sat down on the cot. "Is there anything else?"

Grantaire knelt down to Combeferre's level and kissed his cheek.

"Yeah. Take care of yourself, know we love you, and call if you need us. You have always been good enough for us. You're perfect just the way you are." Grantaire smiled and embraced him.

Combeferre returned the hug. "You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah. I'll be you while you're protecting our girl. I love her too, you know." Grantaire said.

Combeferre flinched. "Let's not talk about that right now. Just… go."

"Not until you promise to uphold my conditions." Grantaire said.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Combeferre asked suddenly.

"What?" Grantaire replied.

"Sophomore year. When you got that horrible bout of food poisoning. I distinctly remember telling you about my conditions to get you better while you were glued to your toilet." Combeferre smiled gently.

Grantaire grimaced at the memory. "God, don't remind me. That was an awful week."

"Yes but now we can't get you anywhere near raw chicken. Even in the supermarket." Combeferre chuckled.

"No, I'm not taking that chance again." Grantaire joined him laughing.

Then they both suddenly stopped. Reality that they were laughing while one friend was in surgery and another was lying unconscious right next to them came crashing down on them until Grantaire felt like choking on his grief.

"What did you mean you'll be me while I'm here?" Combeferre asked, just as Grantaire was deciding to head out.

"We need a guide. Someone to turn to in times of crisis. Well, we've got a few of those running around and since you're dealing with the biggest one at the moment that we can't handle by ourselves, we need someone else. I'll fill in." Grantaire promised.

"Nikolas Grantaire, you are a remarkable human being who's a fantastic friend and a wonderful boyfriend. All the time you two were dating, I'd never seen her so happy. She had this glow, like the sun was shining in her skin and her eyes- God her eyes glittered like liquid quicksilver in moonlight." Combeferre stated.

Grantaire leaned down and kissed Combeferre again. "You know, I don't think I'd be around to give our girl the time of her life if it wasn't for you, always making sure I was okay. So don't sell yourself short. You will be a wonderful doctor, and you are wonderful friend and one of the best men I've ever met."

"Thank you, Grantaire. I needed that." Combeferre smiled a bit.

"I'll be down in the waiting room. Either text, call or come down to show me you've eaten something and then get some rest. Please." Grantaire asked.

Combeferre nodded.

Grantaire hugged him again and headed back down to the waiting room. He met Annette on the way down.

"Ah, Grantaire, you've got your stitches out." Annette smiled.

"Yeah. Just got them out today. Finally feeling better." Grantaire lied. He figured faking being a little sick was better than saying he was too scared to see Combeferre to come visit.

"Great. I'm glad. She's missed you." Annette said.

Grantaire frowned. He knew Enjolras would never tell her parents that she and he were dating. At least not without asking him about it first. "What do you mean?"

"She may not be able to talk, or become conscious, but a mother knows when her daughter likes a boy. And she knows when her baby girl wants him around." Annette smiled.

Grantaire blushed.

"Don't worry. I haven't told Sebastien. Sometimes a father's just as oblivious as the mother is in on the know. What about you, young man?" Annette smiled knowingly.

"I think she's a wonderful person." Grantaire stuttered.

"Oh good." Annette's smile widened.

"Um, will you please check in with me about comb- Etienne? I just want to make sure he's doing okay." Grantaire asked.

"Oh of course. I'm glad someone else has noticed. I don't think he's eaten much since Julia got- shot." Annette stumbled over the last word, swallowing hard.

"Just steal Etienne's phone when he falls asleep. Then call me." Grantaire said.

"All right. Are you sure Etienne won't mind?" Annette nodded.

"No, he'll understand. Hey, where's your husband? I don't mean to pry but-" Grantaire started, but Annette held up a hand.

"I'm afraid Sebastien had a bit of a… breakdown today. A couple hours after you left. He just started crying and he got louder and louder until I had to take him back the hotel room. I mean, sure, Julia's gotten into some big trouble before but before you and your friends have always been able to get her out of it. Even back home, especially back home, she never got into anything this big. This is the first time I've truly felt scared for her." Annette wiped furiously at her eyes.

"Hey. If there's one thing I've learned about Julia, it's that she will never stop fighting. Julia is powerful and I doubt she'll let this stop her from fighting the good fight." Grantaire reassured her.

Annette nodded. "Thank you, Grantaire."

He gave her a winning smile and excused himself. He headed back down to the waiting room.

"How'd he take it?" Joly asked.

"Well enough. God, I feel terrible. He's beating himself up over this." Grantaire frowned.

"Seems to be a common thing around here." Joly sighed.

No one said anyone for a while. Then he got a media message from Combeferre. It was of a bowl of soup, tomato if he didn't miss his guess, and it looked half-eaten. The caption read _Does this please you?_

"All right that's it. Everyone, let's find somewhere closed off and get in a circle." Grantaire announced.

He was met with confused but willing glances. So, after a quick question to the secretary, the Les Amis de l'ABC found themselves in a rarely used room on the fourth floor of the hospital. Everyone got into a circle, where the others were supposed to be they simply left the three spaces alone.

"Okay, so what now?" Cosette asked.

"All right. What we're going to do is go around in a circle, and first we're going to say three nice things about one other person in the circle. Everyone gets something so once somebody's chosen, that's it. Doesn't matter if what you think you have is better. And no significant others." Grantaire announced.

"You said first. What's second?" Eponine asked, almost warily.

"Second, is after everybody's been chosen, we're going to go around the circle and say something good about ourselves. It can't be what has already been said, and it can't be something bland or something other people like about you physically. Search yourself. And it's all right if you pass, as long as you do eventually say something." Grantaire finished.

"What brought this on?" Feuilly inquired.

"We did never get to the meeting part of tonight. I think we all need a reminder that we're loved and appreciated by our friends and ourselves. That's easy to forget in times like this. We set up this meeting because we need to reconnect with each other. I failed Courfeyrac because I didn't reconnect with him. I won't let it happen again. Now who wants to start?" Grantaire voiced.

Three hands went up: Jehan, Feuilly and Bousset.

"Uh, Jehan." Grantaire chose.

"Oh no, I had a question." Jehan said.

Grantaire nodded.

"Can we also say stuff about the people who aren't here to? Maybe we can write them down, so they know we love them too." Jehan asked.

"That's a wonderful idea, Jehan." Feuilly grinned.

"Yeah and we can all do one for Courfeyrac. God knows he needs it." Musichetta smiled.

"Yeah, how long is he gonna be in surgery? He should see them when he wakes up." Cosette chimed in.

"Oh he'll be out for a while. The anesthetic will keep him out for at least a few more hours, depending on how fast he metabolizes. With him, he'd probably be on the lesser end of the scale but it'll still be a while. We got time." Joly assured everyone.

"Okay. Then we're set. After we have our little impromptu meeting, we'll go and get cards and flowers for Courfeyrac." Eponine announced, smiling.

"Wait. I just realized something." Bahorel said, speaking for the first time since Courfeyrac came in.

"What?" Grantaire asked.

"Who's going to tell 'Fey's parents?" Bahorel asked quietly, sitting in horror.

"I don't know 'Courf's parents. I don't know how to get ahold of them." Grantaire stuttered.

"Does anyone know his parents?" Cosette asked.

Marius sighed and raised his hand. "Combeferre and Enjolras do. I do too, you know since I'm his roommate for emergency purposes. But Combeferre probably has it handled. I don't know how he can say that to them."

"Don't worry. Its policy when someone comes in for something like that is to call their emergency contact immediately. His parents have been notified by someone who does this for a living. They're probably on their way now." Joly reassured everyone.

Just then, Grantaire's phone rang. It was Combeferre. He called for everyone to be quiet.

"Hello?" He said.

"Nikolas, its Annette. I just wanted to tell you that Etienne has finally dropped off to sleep. Poor thing." Annette murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Thanks so much. If he wakes up, can you have him call me?" Grantaire asked.

"Sure. I'll call if anything happens." Annette promised before hanging up.

"Okay, so Combeferre is taken care of. Now let's take care of ourselves. Who wants to go first?" Grantaire restarted.

Bousset's hand went up first. Grantaire nodded at him.

"Um, well I'd like to start with Feuilly." Grantaire could see Feuilly's smile. Feuilly hardly ever went first. "Okay, so first off, I think that your fans are some of the most beautiful pieces of art I've ever seen. Second, I'd like to say that your determination is something I've always admired, especially with the reading and writing bit, I couldn't have taught myself to read and write. I would've given up a long time ago. And last, I think that you're one of the smartest men I know." Bousset praised.

Feuilly beamed. "Thank you, Bousset. I'll go next. Marius, I think that you're a very strong person, even though you can be a little unusual. Actually, I think your unusualness is one of your best points. No one else is Marius Pontmercy. You are the best you ever. And last I think that your freckles are very cute and I love them."

Marius blushed. "Thanks."

"You want to go next?" Grantaire asked, knowing sometimes when Marius blushed he couldn't speak for a little while.

"Sure. Joly, although I don't quite get your hypochondria, I don't think it's a terrible thing for you. I think that's a great reason to want to become a doctor and I really admire you for it. It's a very brave thing to get up and go to med school like that. Next, I think you're very funny and I really enjoy you're stories and jokes. And lastly, I think you have a very nice tongue." Marius commended.

Laughter broke out. Everyone knew what he was talking about. That Joly had a very bad habit of constantly checking his tongue for his maladie imaginaire.

"Well, thank you for that Marius. I am a bit narcissistic about it, yes. All righty then. I've moving on to Eponine. I think you are one of the strongest women I know. You're not just a survivor, you won and you're becoming stronger every day. I also think you're incredibly smart, even though you didn't get much chance to show it when you were younger. And since I know my girlfriend feels the same, I'm comfortable saying that you are one of the prettiest women I've ever seen. I mean, you are drop dead gorgeous, Ep." Joly smiled.

Eponine returned it. "Why thank you, my good man but don't you have a female friend to entertain?"

"Oh I don't mind. I'd even join in if you'd let me." Musichetta smirked.

A storm of laughter followed that. They all knew that Musichetta was just joking around. (Although, to be perfectly honest, Grantaire wasn't exactly sure. Musichetta was open to pretty much anything.)

"Well it appears to be my turn to pick a name out of the hat. Oh look I got Bahorel. Well, you can be one lazy motherfucker but when it comes down to it, you're one of the most motivated men I've ever met. Whenever Enjolras asked something of you, she knew it would get done. And you're like Captain America sometimes too. Knocking someone, who could possibly be Hitler, out in one punch? That takes skill and more brute strength than measurable. And I think you're gorgeous." Eponine winked gaudily.

Bahorel guffawed loudly, smiling widely for the first time since karaoke.

"Since my boyfriend has already been taken," Everyone paused to laugh at Feuilly making kissing noises to Bahorel, "I'm going to do Musichetta."

"Oh dear, boyfriends, watch out." Musichetta warned and everyone chuckled.

"First off, I love your name. I mean, can I say that-" At Grantaire's nod he continued, "Yeah, okay, I love your name. It's so beautiful and it just rolls off the tongue and I think it's great. I love your voice, it's gorgeous. I mean seriously, if you were single-" Bahorel stopped dead in his tracks at Joly's glare and cleared his throat, "Anyways, I also love your love. You have an amazing ability to love and it's wonderful."

"Darling, you're a tease and I love you." Musichetta joked.

Bahorel blew a kiss.

"Hey, last time I checked I was his faux beau." Feuilly protested.

"Well, I can be his faux belle." Musichetta winked. "Let's move on before Joly blows a gasket. Jehan, I think your poetry is spectacular. It's moving and touching and makes you cry and makes you laugh and I think you're a genius. And I adore your braid. It's thoughtful and fun and beautiful. And your optimism is beyond admirable. Some young boy will notice that and take a lot of notice of you." Musichetta charmed.

"Aw thanks." Jehan cooed. "I call Grantaire!"

"Sorry, I'm taken Jehan but I'm flattered." Grantaire snarked back.

"Shut up, you. I'm going to praise you and you're going to sit down and like it." Jehan said.

"I'm already sitting down." Grantaire stated.

"Then all you get to do now is like it. I love your skin and I know I sound like some creepy stalker but when I really do. I mean, when we finally cover the human body in class, I'm going to use you as my muse. I think your incredibly talented art goes without saying I mean, it's beyond fantastic. Lastly, I think you have the prettiest eyes out of all of us. Even with Enjolras's on the table, you're still the tops." Jehan honored him with the compliments.

"Thanks Jehan." Grantaire smiled.

"Told you you'd like it." Jehan beamed.

"My turn. Or rather Cosette's turn. Cosette, I think you're an angel, in sound, beauty, and soul. I could listen to you sing til the end of time." Grantaire started.

"She doesn't sing that. Mm-mm. Not her style." Marius interrupted.

"No, no, I mean I could listen to her sing forever." Grantaire tried.

"She doesn't sing that either." Marius shook his head.

"Um, Marius, you do know what he's talking about right?" Jehan asked, asking what everyone was thinking. Sometimes Marius didn't quite get humor and was usually embarrassed to find out people were joking.

"Of course I do. I'm the one making the jokes here!" Marius protested.

Everyone laughed again.

"Continuing on, I think that Marius is a very lucky guy to have you to allow him to be your boyfriend. You're an amazing woman and I know you are simply too precious for this world. And you're pouting. Why are you pouting?" Grantaire asked.

"Because you stole my thing. I was going to go with my voice. That was my plan. You ruined it!" Cosette pouted.

"Sorry." Grantaire said, trying not to laugh.

"Last but definitely not least, Bousset. Your constant optimism from your unbearable bad luck is extraordinary. I think you're very handsome, even if you're usually wrapped up in bandages and you are one of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." Cosette finished up softly.

"Aw, thanks Cosette." Bousset grinned.

"Now, as I said, something nice about ourselves. Now remember, no copying!" Grantaire started.

"I'm proud of my grades. I never expected to be able to decipher one letter from another and now I'm reading at a beyond college level and understanding material I never dreamed of. I did the best I could with what I had and it turned into a college acceptance letter." Feuilly began.

"I like boxing. I know that's not a thing about me per say and I know I can take it a bit too far but it's one of the few things in life I truly enjoy. It's relaxing, when used correctly, and just plain fun if used a little loosely." Bahorel said.

"I'm thankful I have two wonderful partners who love me as much as I love them." Joly gave a kiss to Bousset and Musichetta.

On cue, everyone except those three went 'bleh'. It was a gag they all did whenever someone was a little too cheesy.

"Shut up! I think it's a wonderful gesture." Musichetta flipped them all off.

"My hands. I know that sounds a little weird but I swear I can do anything with them if I really try. I mean I cut them up a lot but they keep coming back for more so." Bousset got them back on track.

"I'm proud of my heritage. I love my family dearly and I know they love me. And our family is very recognizable back home and I think that's something to be proud of. And yes, I know you guys love me as much as I love you too." Musichetta continued.

"I'm proud of the fact that I trust everyone here in this room, and Enjolras, Combeferre and Courfeyrac too. I don't think I've ever trusted this many people in my life before but if I was in danger or needed something, I know I could turn to you guys. And I'm proud that I've healed that much to say that." Eponine blushed.

"I'm happy I found a family." Marius said simply.

"Okay since Grantaire stole my best one, I have to go with my feet." Cosette stated.

"Your feet?" Marius asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I can stand for hours on end without them hurting much." Cosette nodded.

"Okay…" Grantaire trailed off.

"Hey! Don't do that! You stole my best line!" Cosette pouted.

"Jehan, save him." Musichetta prompted.

Jehan was suddenly somber. Everyone recognized that and stared. Jehan was always happy. This was unusual and everyone was on guard. Then Jehan dug something out of his pocket.

"This." He held up something the size of a poker chip. "It's my One Year Chip from Narcotics Anonymous. I have two and three of course but I keep this around to remind me of what I've done and how amazing it felt to be clean for a year. How clear my head was. How great my life was becoming. What wonderful friends I had."

Cosette hugged him fiercely. "We love you too."

"That's a good place to end. Let's head back down and see if there's any news for us." Grantaire called.

"Hey wait. Grantaire, you didn't go." Feuilly protested.

"Didn't I?" Grantaire frowned, though he knew it was a total lie. He had searched himself and found nothing to say.

"No, you didn't." Joly shook his head.

"Sorry, guys, I thought I did." Grantaire said.

"Well come on then. Is it going to be your painters' hands?" Eponine tried.

"Or maybe your hair?" Cosette chirped.

"Or nose?" Marius piped up.

"It could even be your sense of humor." Jehan added.

"There's your handsomeness." Musichetta said.

"Ah, ah, nothing physical. His intelligence works though." Joly checked.

"And so do his hard-earned muscles." Bousset stated.

"As well as his laugh." Feuilly grinned.

"You guys do know you've just stolen everything I could've used, right?" Grantaire muttered, thoroughly embarrassed and yet thoroughly loved.

"Or your sexual prowess! I'm sure Enjolras loved that!" Bahorel joked crudely.

That snapped something inside.

"Enough!" Grantaire screamed, panting as if he'd just run a marathon.

Silence.

Thoughts were swirling around in his head. Thoughts about the girl he loved, that night, what Combeferre screamed at him, his family, blood. Then his only thought was of blood. Enjolras's blood dripping from the walls, his own blood running down his face, Courfeyrac's blood gushing down his arms, Enjolras's blood on his hands, Courfeyrac's blood on his hands, and feeling that slick, wet, yet burning hot liquid on him, choking him. Suddenly (but not surprisingly) he felt sick. So he stood and raced to the nearest bathroom. He locked himself in, thankfully it was a single bathroom, and slid down the wall and cried.

* * *

**Hello.**

**To hopelessromentic: Um, I don't know wattpad or whatever that is. I'm guessing it's a writing site. Sorry. I'm really technologically inept.**

**Also about the whole soda thing, I tried researching that but it seems like no one has been stupid enough to spill soda on an open cut so I'm making this up as I go. Any med students who want to say something, please do. Accuracy is the best option a writer has for a successful story.**

**Gotta go, everyone. Going up to my (evil) grandparents tomorrow so I can see my dad. Although, their cat Snickers is adorable! Please review if you liked it, didn't like it, want more, whatever. Please. I'll need the strength to get through these next few days.**


	13. Chapter 13

He didn't know how long he spent in the bathroom crying but he only came back to himself after a loud knocking at the door. He expected a nurse or doctor to yell at him for being in the bathroom so long but instead he found a morose Bahorel.

"I just wanted to say sorry. I was just trying to make everybody laugh." Bahorel apologized.

"'S not your fault. You couldn't have known. It was probably funny and a bit embarrassing on my part but I'm just… I'm not ready to talk about Enjolras. Not like that. Not yet. Seeing her here scares me enough and I can barely handle that. Joking about her is… inconceivable." Grantaire admitted.

Bahorel nodded. "'Courf is out of surgery. Everyone's down there waiting to be able to see him."

Grantaire said nothing else, only headed back down to the waiting room. Joly was just finishing up with the doctor when he and Bahorel showed up. When the doctor walked away, everyone hung on Joly's every word and expression. He didn't seem morbid so Courfeyrac obviously wasn't dead.

"Surgery went fine. He's okay. He's obviously on suicide watch for at least the next seventy-two hours. They have him on ketamine to temporarily curb his symptoms until his antidepressant medication kicks back in." Joly relayed.

"Why in the hell did they put him on special K?" Jehan demanded.

"Because it's been proven to temporarily help depression symptoms when used correctly. Don't worry." Joly assured them.

Jehan nodded, but Grantaire noticed his hand was twitching. Must be hard to see so many drugs as a former drug addict. So he stealthily reached and wrapped his hand over Jehan's. Jehan squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile.

"Is he awake? Can we see him?" Feuilly asked, hopeful.

"No. He won't be awake for several hours until the anesthetic wears off. And when he does wake up, he'll be drowsy as hell so I can't guarantee how long he'll stay awake." Joly shook his head,

"So we have time to do our card plan?" Cosette asked.

Joly nodded.

Since they obviously thought of this while he was still crying in the bathroom, he just went along with it. Someone would eventually explain it.

"I think it's weird 'Courf's parents aren't here. I mean, they live pretty close." Cosette murmured.

They all looked at her.

"I can call them, 'Zette. I got their number." Marius chimed in, pulling out his phone as if this had just occurred to him. (Given that it was Pontmercy, it probably didn't click earlier.)

They all waited in silence as Marius got voicemail and left a message that they were all already at the hospital and that he was going to be okay.

"Maybe they're on vacation or something?" Eponine stated.

"Or maybe they're on a plane." Bousset supplied.

"Well, if they get here when we aren't here, they can call or the hospital receptionist will update them." Joly said.

"Why don't we get started on that card thing?" Grantaire supplied and everyone nodded.

"Maybe we should have a few people stay here in case they show up. I think they'd feel better. I know I would." Cosette pressed.

"Here. We'll go in groups. Some of us will hit the stationary store and get what we need. The next group will get the food since I refuse to eat hospital cafeteria food since it's disgusting. I need something that doesn't taste like cardboard. And also pick something up for Combeferre when he wakes up. And the last group can stay here." Grantaire announced.

"Okay, now there's a plan. Who will go with who?" Joly asked.

"I think the girls and I can hit the stationary store. Jehan and Feuilly should come too." Musichetta offered.

"Sure. I'll take Grantaire's Element and get us some food, if he doesn't mind me driving his car." At Grantaire's shake of the head, Joly continued. "Bahorel and Bousset can come with me."

"I'll stay here with Marius and watch for his parents." Grantaire finalized.

They all nodded and headed out.

"So what is this card thing?" Grantaire asked.

"Well, Jehan remembered that Courfeyrac said that hospital walls are bland and the tables are bland and everything is bland. So we decided we could redecorate. With cards to help him feel better and construction paper cutouts and things to make it not so bland. Fill them up with the skind of stuff you were having us say about ourselves." Marius shrugged.

"Who came up with that?" Grantaire smiled.

"Um, I did. I just wanted to make him feel better." Marius said.

"I think it's a fantastic idea. Hospitals can get very monotonous and there's a reason many people don't want to be here. Have you asked if we can tape things to the wall because I'm not sure we can do that." Grantaire added.

"Yeah we asked the receptionist. She said it sounded fine as long as we took it down ourselves and didn't hammer anything into the wall. Oh and the paper isn't allowed to be sharp so once we finish, we have to laminate it and cut off the edges to make it as circular as possible." Marius nodded, frowning.

"Well, at least when he sees that, he'll remember that we love him and we're thinking of him. Right now, that's all we can do. We can't solve his depression, just as we can't fix Enjolras's bullet wound. He has to fight it himself. You can have the best support system, the most loving family, meds and sometimes it still isn't enough. And that's nobody's fault. What happened today is nobody's fault. Courfeyrac, at the moment, is unable to see why Enjolras being here isn't his fault. That little voice in your head who reminds you of your insecurities, who tells you you're not worth it, that voice in his head is shouting and it hurts. It repeats and repeats and then he screws up and it tells him it's his fault and it's a vicious cycle. What he has to do is break the cycle and that happens with help, usually. Help and medication. Sometimes, you don't need medication but giving what just happened they'll probably put him back on it. Marius, just because you weren't there to see him doesn't mean that it's your fault. I promise you that." Grantaire said, making sure Marius was looking him in the eyes.

"How did you know I was thinking that?" Marius asked quietly.

"Because it's a natural thought. We want something to blame and sometimes all we can think of is ourselves. And since you didn't see him, you spent a lot of time with Cosette that you can feel that you've missed his cries for help. He might not have given any. Depression is often known as a sort of silent killer, because the person who has it doesn't feel they're good enough to ask for help. Sometimes, you don't even know how bad it is until this happens. But that doesn't mean it's your fault. Like I said, it's no one's fault. Would you blame me for thinking that he was sick instead of being in withdrawal?" Grantaire tried.

"No, of course not. It wasn't your job to look after him." Marius immediately defended him.

"Was it yours?" Grantaire shot right to the point.

"Maybe. I was his roommate. I was the one who he asked to make sure he took his meds. But this week I failed." Marius sighed.

"How often do you check he's taken his medications?" Grantaire asked.

"Um, not much anymore. Usually, about once every few days." Marius shrugged.

"Because you trust him, right?" Grantaire pressed.

Marius nodded.

"He hasn't given you any reason not to trust him. Don't blame yourself. He wouldn't want you to." Grantaire insisted.

Marius nodded and suddenly hugged him. He awkwardly patted him on the back and Marius smiled a little when he pulled back.

"Thanks, Grantaire. I needed that." Marius whispered.

"Hey. I wasn't kidding when I said I was becoming the temporary guide. If you ever need help, you can come to me if Combeferre is unavailable." Grantaire repeated.

Marius nodded. "I wonder why his parents aren't here yet. Usually they call at least, if they're going to be late."

"Maybe they're out of cell service range." Grantaire shrugged.

"Oh that makes sense. Courfeyrac was talking about a camping trip a few weeks ago. Before all this started." Marius remembered.

"That's probably where they are. Don't worry." Grantaire smiled slightly.

Marius nodded again, looking relieved.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Marius asked suddenly, so quiet Grantaire barely heard him.

"Of course he is." Grantaire reassured him immediately.

"Everyone keeps saying that but no one really means it! They say it too fast! Saying something that quickly either doesn't matter or it's a lie. And I'm tired of it!" Marius shouted, abruptly furious.

"Marius-" Grantaire tried.

"No! I'm tired of everyone being so horribly optimistic! You have to be real! Yeah, I'm sure he'll be perfectly fine physically! I know he will! These doctors fixed Enjolras and they helped her and they can stitch him up fine! But it's his mind! His mind is poisoning him and I have to just stand by and watch it happen!" Marius screamed, drawing the attention of several people but Grantaire didn't care. If anyone had a right to a scene, it was at a hospital.

"Marius, I'll be honest." Grantaire said after a while. Marius was just staring at him, catching his breath from his outburst. "I don't know. I don't know if he'll try something like this again. I hope to God he won't but I don't know the future. Nobody does. But I swear to you that the hospital will do its damnedest to make sure something like this doesn't happen again. Even if that means sending him to an institution."

"You really think they'll send him away? I don't want him to go. I want him to stay with us." Marius pleaded.

"I don't know. But we have to open to the idea. If doing that will help him get better, don't you think that's the best thing for him?" Grantaire asked.

Marius nodded and started to cry. "I just want him to be okay. He's my best friend. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have met you guys and my life would be so lonely. Because if I never met you guys then I wouldn't have met Cosette and even if I had, I wouldn't have ever had the courage to go up and say hi to her. Courfeyrac did that for me. He's the reason we got together. I miss him so much."

Grantaire embraced his friend. Marius clung to him like he was a lifeboat on the titanic.

"I miss him too." Grantaire whispered.

He wasn't sure how long Marius just clung to him, but he waited until Marius was ready until he began to let go.

"Thank you." Marius breathed, sniffling and wiping his face.

"Marius, there's no shame in crying. Two horrible things have happened within a month. And whether this happened or not, crying is a very healthy way of getting rid of your emotions. It's okay." Grantaire said.

"No that's not it. I just… I feel so weak because I couldn't do anything. All I did was stand there and watch him bleed." Marius lightly kicked at one of the chairs.

"Marius, you had both Eponine and Cosette relying on you. They made it through. They needed someone to hold on to and cry on and that was you. You helped _them_. Is that standing around doing nothing?" Grantaire asked.

Marius looked down. "I suppose not."

Grantaire grabbed his chin and forced Marius to meet his eye. "Really?"

"No." Marius murmured.

"Say it louder." Grantaire commanded.

"No." Marius stated.

"Now believe it this time." Grantaire demanded.

"No!" Marius shouted.

"All right. Now trust me when I say I know what weakness looks like. I've seen people so weak it hurts to look at them. But you are not weak. I swear to you." Grantaire burrowed into Marius's eyes as if that could make him believe it.

Marius nodded dumbly.

Grantaire kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair.

Marius blushed and sat down.

"I think the idea of having Courfeyrac wake up to that kind of a surprise is amazing." Grantaire said.

"You already said that." Marius looked away again.

"That's because I meant it. Support is the best thing we can give him now. The rest is up to him." Grantaire said.

"I hope the others come back soon. I wanna get started." Marius said.

"They'll be back soon." Grantaire said.

"They'll be back now." Cosette chirped, hands full with several bags from what seemed like several stationary stores.

"You weren't gone that long." Grantaire mused.

"Oh, we all went to different stores and found stuff. Thankfully, they were still open. I mean I know eight isn't very late but still. Musichetta took Michaels, Eponine and Feuilly took Hallmark-" Cosette explained.

"Got it, little bird." Grantaire cut off.

"Right so, let's break this stuff open and get cracking." Musichetta grinned, toting Eponine behind her.

"Where are the boys?" Grantaire asked.

"Parking." Eponine supplied.

"Gotcha." Grantaire accepted.

Once Feuilly and Jehan were back, they all broke into the many arts and crafts purchased.

"Where's the laminating machine?" Grantaire asked.

"It was way too expensive, unless you're Enjolras. So we asked the guy if he had anything cheaper and he said wax paper and an iron would do all right for people on a budget." Musichetta replied.

"Ah." Grantaire nodded and started drawing on a construction paper card. "Jehan, Courfeyrac's favorite flower is the rose, right?"

"Actually, I'm not sure. He knows lots of flower meanings because he listens to me talk all the time but I don't think he has a favorite out of everything." Jehan answered.

Grantaire nodded and kept going on the rose, drawing the start of a bouquet. He knew he would color the rose yellow, and after a little consulting with Jehan, he decided to include at least four from the list Jehan gave him. Hyacinth, iris, larkspur, pansy, peony, poppy, and sunflower.

"'Taire, do you mind drawing a heart for me? I'm no good at those." Eponine asked.

He nodded and did so on a piece of blue paper with Eponine's instructions. Everyone worked in quiet, talking only when the lesser experienced with art asked those with more experience if they would do something, which was always yes. Joly, Bousset and Bahorel showed up with KFC. They all tore into the family chicken meal and Grantaire stole most of the mashed potatoes after Eponine managed to dip her finger in and wiped it off on Cosette's nose. Though he would've done the same, KFC's potatoes were good and he wanted to eat them, not lick them off someone else's skin. Actually, he wouldn't have minded that were he not in a hospital. His friends were the kind of people who thought that stuff was hilarious and he knew Enjolras would never have been jealous if it were anyone else.

Once the food had been eaten and the trash thrown away, they all settled into a routine of making, writing, drawing, and laminating. Someone started playing their IPod on speaker and it made the time go faster. They had several stacks of laminated cards at the ready when they finally got the green light to decorate Courfeyrac's room. Since the nurses were discreetly not looking, that managed to fit six people into Courfeyrac's room to hang the pictures and cards. Eponine and Cosette did the placement, Joly and Grantaire did as the girls told them, Jehan had collected all the gifts (which were either homemade origami or from the hospital gift shop) and put them around on his nightstand and some on his bed, while Marius simply stared at him. They were cut so that he couldn't cut himself on the laminate, and the colors seemed much better than the plain white dingy walls he had before. Courfeyrac was still unconscious when they came in and even after he sent Eponine and Cosette back down, he still was. His skin was still a little pale, but better than he had looked when he first came into the Musain and he had four point restraints on his arms and legs. He assumed it was standard procedure for patients in the psych ward who haven't been evaluated by doctors. Grantaire pulled up a chair next to Marius and waited.

Marius looked down sadly at him, reached out to touch him, but then let his hand fall down emptily.

"You can touch him. It won't hurt him." Joly encouraged.

Marius gently held Courfeyrac's limp hand. Jehan gently guided him down to a chair and sat down in his own. Courfeyrac's hand suddenly curled onto Marius and seemed to hold it tightly.

"He's holding my hand. I think he's waking up." Marius grinned brightly.

As if on cue, Courfeyrac groaned and tried to shift. He couldn't because of the restraints and so seemed to be forced to return to the land of the living.

"Why can I move?" He slurred, still heavily under the influence of the medication.

"I'll go get the doctor." Jehan scurried out fast.

"'Fey you're restrained, don't try to move okay?" Joly said, trying to calm him down.

Courfeyrac nodded slowly. He blinked slowly. "Still here?"

"Yes, 'Fey, we're still here. We'll always be here." Joly smiled, trying to express some joy to the man that his suicide attempt had failed.

Then Courfeyrac started to cry, only sobbing the word 'sorry' over and over again, and Grantaire knew he hadn't been asking if they were still here. He was asking why _he_ was still here. Joly's face crumpled as he realized the same thing.

"Joly, this is not what we do. We are not trained to save our friends from suicide. We cannot take this burden onto ourselves. There are real doctors who specialize and train for years to do this. This is not our job." Grantaire said after pulling Joly aside.

"I want to help him." Joly whispered.

"We will. After he gets professional help. Would you let yourself operate on Enjolras right now?" Grantaire asked.

Joly shook his head dejectedly.

"I think we should all go home and get some sleep. Courfeyrac can get the help he needs and we can recharge. As much as our world has stopped, the rest of the world still moves around us. We still have school and jobs and families. We need to get out of this hospital and breathe some fresh air for a bit. You'd suggest the same thing." Grantaire reminded him.

Joly nodded again as the doctor came in.

"Unusual decorations for a normal hospital room." Said an older gentleman, about early forties, blond hair, green eyes, solid stature and a kind face. He seemed trustworthy. Grantaire didn't trust him but he knew Courfeyrac would, and that would help.

"Well, the receptionist asked and your people said it was okay." Marius stammered.

"Unusual, not unacceptable." The man said breezily. "I'm Gary Grant."

"The basketball player?" Joly and Grantaire said on cue.

"No, the doctor." The man grinned, obviously used to this joke.

"That's Vivien Courfeyrac. We call him by his last name mostly and he was on Celexa until roughly a few weeks ago when he went off it because our friend got shot and his depression made him out to be the bad guy." Marius rattled off, staring directly at his boots.

"Thank you, that helps." Doctor Grant said softy.

"He doesn't like to be coddled and he's going to apologize for crying and I've found it's just better to let him apologize and then tell him that it's okay to cry. He likes touch but from a stranger you have to be slow. Let him warm up to you. If you're going to call him by his first name, don't call him Vivien. He's only Vivien if he's in trouble or it's the first day of roll call. He prefers Viv, it's the nickname his family gave him but, honestly, he prefers his last name. Got it?" Marius stated, with confidence but unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Yes, thank you." Doctor Grant repeated.

Marius nodded decisively and left.

"Anything to add?" Doctor Grant asked.

"Marius is his roommate. He's the one who'd know." Grantaire said and they left the doctor to his trade.

"You gonna go home?" Joly asked.

"I'll drop people off but I wanna see Enjolras and Combeferre before I head home." Grantaire said.

Joly nodded and tried to conceal a yawn. Now that everything had died down, and Courfeyrac was awake and in safe hands, the adrenaline that had been flowing all night stopped and he was beginning to feel it.

"I think you look as tired as the rest of us feel." Grantaire commented.

"All right, people get into groups. We're going home." Joly announced.

Everyone nodded and slowly, they all shuffled into the cars. He gathered Marius, Cosette and Eponine, who apparently were all staying together. He dropped them off at Cosette's father's house and hugged them all as best as he could, giving them all kisses on the cheek. Cosette kissed his forehead, Eponine took his cheek and Marius turned bright red and stuttered his way out of the car. He turned around and headed back to the hospital. It was late but he knew he could sneak his way into Enjolras's room.

He got a few texts from Bahorel, Joly and say that everyone made it home safely. Since it was nearly eleven, the hospital was slow going and he was only stopped by one security guard. He had simply asked if he knew the med student who slept in ICU and that he was going to try to take him home. After that, no one stopped him. He peaked in her room to see of Combeferre was awake before knocking.

"Come in." Came Combeferre's confused reply.

He opened the door and waved as he sat down.

"Any news?" Combeferre asked, borderline desperate.

"He's all right. A Doctor Grant is with him now. He's still a little too pale for my liking but it'll have to do." Grantaire assured.

Combeferre relaxed. Then his phone buzzed. For the first time since Grantaire knew him, he hit ignore.

"It's just my parents. I told them not to call so late but they don't listen to me." Combeferre dismissed when he saw Grantaire's look of utter disbelief.

"They wanna know if you're okay." Grantaire said.

Combeferre sulked.

His phone buzzed again. Combeferre simply turned it off. Now there was something he knew had never happened before.

"It's past eleven, for god's sake, stop calling me!" Combeferre snapped.

"Okay, you need to sleep. In a bed, not a cot. I'm taking you home with me." Grantaire announced.

"No, I need to stay by her." Combeferre protested.

"Combeferre, listen to me. If you do not leave her tonight, they're not going to let you come back." Grantaire threatened. Technically no one had said that but they couldn't let him stay there forever, med student or not.

"Did they say that? I must not have been listening." Combeferre mused.

"That's not like you. Please." Grantaire pleaded.

"I can't go home. It's more her apartment than mine." Combeferre admitted softly, ashamed.

"Then you're coming to my place. End of story." Grantaire stated.

Combeferre hung his head and sighed. "Fine."

Grantaire nodded and gently helped him stand up. They walked to the car in silence, though he did get a bunch of grateful smiles from nurses, obviously for getting Combeferre to leave. He drove home, playing classical music.

"I hate you for being such a wonderful friend to me, you know that?" Combeferre said tightly.

"I'm just paying back the favor you guys gave me. You gave me a new life, and I'd like to see you guys to Enjolras's utopia." Grantaire shrugged.

"You don't think that exists." Combeferre commented.

"No I don't. But I do know that if enough people think something, things can change." Grantaire said as he pulled into his space for his apartment. They headed up the stairs and Grantaire started peeling off the many layers he'd worn as the cooler months had yet to fade from this year's memory.

He handed Combeferre one of his old shirts, and threw him an old pair of gym shorts.

"You remember I like to sleep in gym shorts?" Combeferre remarked, curiously.

"You bring them to all the sleepovers so I would assume you like them." Grantaire noticed.

Combeferre smiled tiredly and laid down on the couch.

"I said you need to sleep in a bed. I'll take the couch. It won't kill me." Grantaire said, slowly pulling Combeferre up.

"You are the best friend ever. And also, fuck you." Combeferre snapped.

"I know you don't mean it." Grantaire kissed his cheek.

"You've been very affectionate lately." Combeferre noted.

"I think we all need affection, especially now." Grantaire answered.

Combeferre kissed both cheeks. "I love you. I hate you but I love you."

"I know. Now get in bed and sleep." Grantaire commanded softly.

Combeferre nodded and climbed into bed. He was out in a few minutes.

Grantaire went to the kitchen and got a sticky note, saying if he woke up before Grantaire did to help himself to some breakfast. He stuck it to the door and collapsed onto the couch. He fell asleep before he even realized he'd forgotten to take his shoes off.

_I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Called a police and a fireman  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Make a dragon wanna retire man  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Say my name you know who I am  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Am I bad 'bout that money, break it down_

Grantaire opened his eyes blearily. His phone was singing in his pocket. He dug it out, saw Jehan was calling and hit the call button with vengeance.

"Jehan it's one in the-" He murmured, still mostly asleep.

"Grantaire, please I need your help." Jehan cried.

That woke him up.

"Where are you?" Grantaire demanded, sleepily sifting through his belongings to find his car keys.

"At my apartment. I did something terrible, Grantaire, please." Jehan sobbed.

"I'm on my way. Don't move. I'm coming. Don't hang up. Whatever you do, don't hang up." Grantaire grabbed a spare pen and scribbled going out, don't know when I'll be back onto Combeferre's sticky note and ran downstairs, uncaring if he woke his neighbors.

He drove as fast as he possibly could. He scrambled up to Jehan's apartment on the second floor and pounded on the door.

"Jehan! Jehan, I'm here, let me in." Grantaire said, hanging up the phone.

Jehan opened the door to reveal a mess. Jehan looked worse than before and he seemed terrified. His hands were shaking, his eyes were bloodshot, snot was generously running down his face, mixing with tears, and he seemed to have bruises on his arms.

"Jehan, what happened?" Grantaire asked, hurrying to embrace his friend.

Jehan just sobbed, repeating what Courfeyrac was doing hours earlier, apologizing over and over.

"Jehan, what are you sorry for?" Grantaire asked, now desperate for answers.

"I did something horrible. I'll be surprised if you ever speak to me again." Jehan bawled.

"I will not. I love you, Jehan, you're an amazing friend and a wonderful person. Please, Jehan, tell me." Grantaire pleaded.

Jehan broke the hug and pointed. Sitting on the coffee table was a simple little bag of pills but to an expert like Grantaire, who spent most of his life around the drug he could recognize genuine ecstasy in a second.

"Jehan, where did you get that? How did you get here from the hospital?" Grantaire whispered.

"Caught a cab. I know a couple people from my NA meetings who went back and I called them and asked where I could get some. Jacque gave me the number of his dealer and I bought some. I know I shouldn't have done it but I haven't taken any and I got scared and I hate stress because every time I feel stress I get the urge to take something but I resist and I couldn't resist tonight after seeing Courfeyrac like that. He's my best friend and I love him and watching him like that was unbearable. So I failed. I bought some X and I came back here to do it, since I didn't want to do it somewhere where I could get arrested. I don't know how cops patrol here. I'm sorry, Grantaire, I really am but even know I can hear it calling to me. I just want to calm down and feel good." Jehan explained, hiccupping occasionally.

"Jehan, look at me." Grantaire tried.

Jehan turned his head and hiccupped.

"I'm proud of you for not taking it." Grantaire stated.

Jehan wailed.

"I mean it. Now why don't I take that bag and get rid of it so at least you don't have the physical temptation staring at you, okay?" Grantaire offered.

"No!" Jehan screamed.

"Jehan do you want to do this?" Grantaire responded.

"No. Yes. I don't know!" Jehan collapsed into a heap on the floor. Grantaire used the opportunity to grab the bad and dump the pills down the toilet. He even threw the bag in for good measure. When he got out of the bathroom, Jehan was staring at him.

"I don't know whether to hit you or thank you." Jehan muttered.

He sat down next to Jehan. "Where did you get those bruises? Was that from the dealer?"

Thankfully, Jehan shook his head. He put his hands on the bruises and Grantaire saw the perfect match. Jehan had been squeezing his arms so tightly he gave himself the bruises.

"Where's your roommate? Where's your sponsor?" Grantaire asked, citing the two people who were supposed to help Jehan in times like these.

"Roommates visiting family. He didn't say when he'd be back. His grandmother has had cancer for a long time and I'm pretty sure when he comes back, it'll be after the funeral. I didn't want to bug him." Jehan shrugged.

"And your sponsor?" Grantaire prompted.

Jehan shrugged again. "Lost track of him a while ago. He was a pretty lousy sponsor so I just deleted the number."

"Have you just been sitting here for hours, staring at this going out of your mind?" Grantaire asked, horrified his friend hadn't called him earlier.

"I tried calling Combeferre earlier. But he never answered and eventually I just went straight to voicemail and I realized he didn't want to talk to me. And that set me off and I came so close but then I thought about what we said earlier tonight. The wonderful things that Musichetta said and what I said about my chip. I'd stare at it for a long time, get courage then lose it and then when I couldn't take the indecision anymore, I called you. You'd know what to do." Jehan replied.

"Oh, Jehan." Grantaire whimpered and embraced his friend tightly. "Combeferre would've wanted to talk to you but he thought it was his parents. He loves you just like I do."

Jehan started to cry again and this time Grantaire joined him. He wasn't sure how much time they spent crying on the floor but eventually Jehan managed to calm down.

"I'm going to take you home, okay? You can bunk with Combeferre. I doubt he'll mind. We've all slept in the same bed before." Grantaire offered.

"Except Enjolras." Jehan said flippantly.

"No, I've slept with her in the same bed. Or rather the same couch." Grantaire amended, knowing Enjolras wouldn't like it if he revealed they had sex before she was ready.

"I guess so." Jehan sighed and Grantaire helped him stand and gather his things. "Taire, what am I going to do? I need help."

"We could try shacs." Grantaire offered.

"Tried. They don't handle addiction cases. They say I need a rehab center. And when I went to one, they said to get a therapist and they gave me several but none of them were on my medical plan so I just didn't go." Jehan refused.

"Hold on. I can call my old therapist and see if he knows any who carry that insurance. I'm sure he knows. If not, he can make some calls. He'll help anyone in need." Grantaire stopped.

"That sounds great." Jehan said listlessly.

"Therapists can only help you if you want to be helped." Grantaire reminded.

"I know. I'm just tired." Jehan responded.

Grantaire nodded and got him into the car. He drove home, obeying traffic laws this time and wrapped one of Jehan's arms around him to carry him up the stairs. He went through his open door and checked to make sure Combeferre was still asleep while Jehan changed into his pajamas. When Grantaire saw he was, he sent Jehan in and did the same thing as he did with Combeferre. Jehan just laid down and stared at the ceiling but he closed the door in order to give Jehan privacy. He knew if Jehan got up, Combeferre would probably notice. He was a light sleeper and he wouldn't mind sleeping with Jehan for a night. They all had shared bed spaces before. Grantaire crossed out the last part of the note and went back to the couch. This time, he remembered to take off his shoes and locked the door. He laid on the couch but sleep evaded him. Now it was four. Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Jehan. Four of the thirteen people he called family were coming apart at the seams. Combeferre, the pacifist, was getting angry and lashing out, hurting the very people he called friends because he couldn't deal with his own grief and anger. Courfeyrac had attempted to take his own life, wanting to escape his own mind trying to destroy himself. Jehan needed professional help to help him with his addiction, help he could never provide. Enjolras was literally dying from a wound that never should've happened. How on earth could he take this alone?

_I'm not alone._ He thought to himself. He has friends. He has a family. People who need him. People who rely on him. People who care so much about him that they're willing to drop everything to help him. That thought slammed into him like a ton of bricks. He wasn't alone. He knew this simple epiphany wouldn't always be his first thought but it felt so good it didn't matter now. He felt so good he felt like crying. But now it seemed he needed to sleep. It was hard to shut his brain down but he was forced to eventually and he slept soundly, still feeling that euphoria in dreamland.

He woke up to the smell of toast, bacon and eggs. Amazing thing to wake up to. Wait a minute. He didn't have any eggs. Or bacon. At least he was pretty sure he didn't have bacon. Wait, that didn't answer the question. Who the hell was cooking breakfast?

"Morning, sleepyhead." Jehan chirped, looking considerably better but not out of the woods. He looked freshly showered, his hair was let down and drying naturally, and he seemed generally perkier.

"You showered? And you didn't wake Combeferre?" Grantaire asked.

"If I did, he just went back to sleep. Right now, he's dead to the world." Jehan replied.

"That's unusual." Grantaire remarked.

"And you're not mad that I used your shower right?" Jehan asked, slightly frightened.

"Of course not. You're not like 'Fey where he won't tell me when I'm out of stuff. I trust you." Grantaire shook his head.

Jehan nodded and went back to cooking.

"It smells fantastic, Jehan." Grantaire complimented.

"Thanks. I wasn't sure how you liked your eggs so I just scrambled them." Jehan responded.

"Speaking of, I don't remember buying eggs. Where did you get them?" Grantaire inquired.

"From the store." Jehan said as if he was stating the obvious.

"Oh Jehan let me pay you back." Grantaire went to grab his wallet.

"No. I'm doing this as a thank you for last night. You deserve it." Jehan stopped him.

Grantaire sighed and figured he could buy Jehan lunch for a couple days. That would pay him back.

"You wanna help? Milk was something you had and pour three glasses." Jehan ordered.

"First I need to make sure I have three clean glasses. I'm not very good at washing dishes." Grantaire checked and found miraculously he had just three clean glasses. So he did as Jehan asked and set the table.

"Do you want to tell Combeferre what happened last night?" Grantaire questioned, trying to go for a light tone.

"Not now. Later but not now." Jehan said.

Grantaire nodded and waited for Jehan to finish and plate.

"I don't know if we should wake Combeferre. He looked so peaceful." Jehan said.

"I think we should. We can just send him back to bed but I'll feel better once he's eaten something. I know he's been skipping meals." Grantaire supplied and headed into his bedroom.

Combeferre was spread out across his side of the bed, with one hand dangling off the edge and his legs wrapped in the sheets. Though Grantaire hated it, he shook Combeferre lightly. The action woke the man.

"Grantaire. Has anything changed?" Combeferre asked immediately.

"Two things. One, breakfast, and I'm not letting you leave without it and two, Jehan's here." Grantaire answered and Combeferre nodded. He climbed stiffly out of bed, cracking his bones to help ease the stiffness out. Grantaire doubted he'd been in a bed since Enjolras got shot.

They went back into the kitchen and Grantaire and Combeferre moved the kitchen table over to the couch. He only had two chairs. So he and Jehan sat on the couch while Combeferre got the chair.

"When did you get here, Jehan?" Combeferre asked sleepily, the coffee yet to take effect.

"I needed food. Jehan ran by the store and honestly, he's a better cook." Grantaire lied. Well it wasn't a complete lie. It was more like avoiding the truth.

Combeferre nodded and slowly ate his eggs. Jehan and Grantaire shared an amused look. It took a while but eventually, Combeferre went from blinking once every few minutes to looking to his left and right, frowning.

"Morning." Jehan chuckled.

Combeferre yawned and nodded. "Hey Jehan. Thanks for breakfast."

"How did you know I didn't make it?" Grantaire tested, wanting to see if Combeferre remembered.

"Because Jehan can actually cook. You cannot. Hence all the take-out containers lying around." Combeferre shot back, smirking.

Jehan burst into laughter, while Grantaire blushed good-naturedly.

"Excuse me for not knowing." Grantaire murmured.

"Oh 'Taire, you know I love you. I despise you sometimes but you know I love you." Combeferre smiled gently.

"I know." Grantaire wasn't sure whether Combeferre was checking if Grantaire knew or if he was trying to remind himself that his friend knew he cared and that the pain he was in wasn't causing him to damage their relationship.

"After breakfast, can you drop me back off at the hospital? My car is there." Combeferre asked.

Grantaire nodded. "But if you're going to visit her, you have to limit your hours. I don't want you getting thrown out."

"You also have homework and stuff. You need to do that." Jehan added.

"Oh I have, for the most part. I brought my laptop with me and I just do it from there. When I emailed my teachers saying where I was, they were fine with me only doing my work from home." Combeferre replied.

"But you need to go to class. Trust me, you need the fresh air. You have any today?" Grantaire asked.

"Naw, its Friday. I'll go on Monday and Tuesday." Combeferre said.

"Good, because I don't want you losing your place in your studies because of this." Grantaire stated.

"And if something happens when I'm making sure my _studies_ are okay?" Combeferre asked sardonically.

"That's why they have doctors and nurses and her parents will be there. If something's going to happen, your simple presence is not going to stop it." Grantaire responded.

Combeferre sighed. "I hate it when you guys use logic against me."

Grantaire smiled a bit, thankful.

"I'll clean up here and you take Combeferre to his car." Jehan offered and started to clean up.

"No I can clean." Grantaire tried but Jehan shook his head.

"I like to do dishes. Helps me relax."

Grantaire nodded and he waited for Combeferre to change. But then he caught a whiff of Combeferre's shorts as he passed them over.

"Dear God, have you been wearing these since you first got to the hospital?" Grantaire asked, trying to inhale his hand to get the smell out of his nose.

"That bad, huh?" Combeferre frowned.

"Yes. Please shower soon. In fact, I'll swing by your apartment and get you some clean clothes while you use my shower." Grantaire offered but he started shooing Combeferre into the bathroom.

"All right, all right, all right. I get when I'm not wanted." Combeferre conceded.

Grantaire waited for the shower to go before he slipped into the bathroom and removed the offending articles of clothing, after telling Combeferre of course. Jehan was snickering as he came out.

"What's with the clothes?" Jehan asked.

"Smell this." Grantaire shoved the clothes at Jehan.

"Ew I don't want to smell your smelly clothes." Jehan shoved him away.

"They're not mine. They're Combeferre's." Grantaire announced.

"No." Jehan gasped.

"Yes. So he's in the shower while I get him some clean clothes because he's not stinking up my car like this. Bad enough I can't burn these and I have to put them in my car." Grantaire grimaced.

"Sorry, dude." Jehan laughed.

"Laugh it up, flower boy." Grantaire sulked but Jehan knew he was just teasing.

"Leaving his clothes and not showering. That's not like him at all." Jehan mused darkly.

"I don't think he planned far ahead when he did this." Grantaire reassured.

Jehan nodded but didn't look convinced. So he grabbed his keys, grabbed Combeferre's keys, and headed down. He drove to Combeferre's apartment and headed up. He threw Combeferre's clothes in the dirty laundry and grabbed some clothes. He wasn't sure if they matched but Combeferre wouldn't care. He almost left, waited, and just barely touched his hand to Enjolras's doorknob. He let it fall before heading out. He didn't want to send himself back into a bad state. He headed home and chucked the clean clothes into the bathroom. A small 'thank you' emanated from inside. Once Combeferre came out, Grantaire could finally breathe around him properly and he drove him to his car. He gave Combeferre a hard hug and kissed his cheek again.

"You are a great person, Nikolas Grantaire. Never believe anyone who says different. Especially me." Combeferre smiled.

"Ah, 'Ferre, I know you don't mean it. Well you mean what you say but you're not trying to hurt me and I know that. You're angry, guilty, upset, grieving, and so many other emotions. If you cursing at me helps, then do it. I know you love me, and I hope you know I love you." Grantaire reassured.

"I know. And I'm sorry." Combeferre sighed.

Grantaire kissed him again.

"You keep this up and we'll have a lot of kisses to give back to you." Combeferre remarked.

"Now that is something I'll gladly accept." Grantaire grinned.

"All right. I can't promise I won't say awful things, but I can promise I'll try not to." Combeferre nodded.

"'Ferre, maybe you should see a counselor about this. Talking helps." Grantaire tried.

"Maybe, but first I wanna make sure Enjolras is out of the woods. Nothing is going to change for me until she gets better." Combeferre dismissed.

"Combeferre, you can't heal only based on her. You can't let this control you." Grantaire pushed.

"I think it's a little too late for that." Combeferre kissed his forehead. "'Taire, you're a wonderful human being and I love you."

Then Combeferre climbed out of one car and tried to get into his own before coming back.

"You still have my keys." Combeferre blushed.

Grantaire handed them to him, bursting into laughter. Combeferre joined him for a few minutes and headed out. Grantaire was glad Combeferre drove away instead of going back into the hospital. So instead, he took Combeferre's spot and headed inside to visit Enjolras. As he expected, Sebastien and Annette were there.

"How is she doing?" He asked.

"Not well. Her fever is really high and she had a seizure this morning and the hospital had to have the talk about the DNR order. I didn't know what to say. We didn't sign it because I don't even know what she would want. We've talked to her about we've wanted but we've never even imagined asking her." Annette started to cry.

He knew no parent should ever have to bury their child.

"She'll fight this. I've never known her to give up. I can't conceive her giving up now. We used to joke around that she'd live to be immortal because the grim reaper is afraid of her." Grantaire shared.

"Really?" Sebastien asked.

Grantaire nodded. "I know it was just a joke but I meant it. She would go kicking and screaming because her world hasn't been created yet. She hasn't improved the lives of enough people yet."

"Well…" Sebastien scoffed.

"You don't think she can do it?" Grantaire questioned.

"I'm afraid she won't live long enough to see whatever world she thinks she can make." Sebastien sighed.

"Here, I'm cynical enough for the three of us. You just hope for your daughter." Grantaire tried.

Sebastien nodded.

"Why hasn't she woken up yet?" Grantaire asked, as he knew people didn't stay unconscious for this long.

"She's in a medically induced coma. The infection is playing havoc on her body." Annette said, still crying.

"Do you have a wet rag? I know nurses sometimes do that and I know it's not anything you have to be trained for so maybe you can do that." Grantaire offered. Hospitals can create a useless feeling for parents and he didn't want them to feel that. He looked around and then asked a nurse, who had seen this stuff all the time, easily got a bowl of water and a towelette. He carried them back to Enjolras and Annette immediately took over. He left them to it since Jehan was still waiting for him.

Jehan was just finishing with the dishes when he got back.

"You want me to call my old therapist now? Or do you want me to wait?" Grantaire asked.

"Now. I don't want to slip up like that again. I've worked too hard to let myself ruin my life again. Grantaire, thank you for saving me from myself." Jehan hugged him.

"Jehan, you did most of the work. I just gave you a nudge in the right direction." Grantaire returned it and when Jehan went back to the dishes, he realized something. "Hey wait, you didn't use all those dishes."

"Well, you said you're bad at remembering to do them so I figured I'd do them for you." Jehan shrugged.

"Thanks." Grantaire said and got his phone out. He still knew the number by heart but he chose the contact he never deleted.

"Jehan, your insurance is…" Grantaire remembered.

"State." Jehan stated.

"Doctor Jean-Luc Jaccoud's office." Answered a woman. New secretary.

"Hi, this is Nikolas Grantaire. Old patient. Is Luc available?" Grantaire asked.

"He has a few minutes. Please hold." The woman said.

"Hello?" Luc answered.

"Hey, Luc." Grantaire started.

"Nikolas. How have you been?" Luc replied.

"I'm managing doc. I'm not calling about me. One of my friend's is going through some major shit, with drugs and addiction and stuff but everywhere next to the university won't take his insurance. I was wondering if you knew of any in the area that do." Grantaire responded.

"You're in Barbour County, right?" Luc said.

"Yeah but I could get him over to Belle Mina." Grantaire nodded.

"All right. What's the insurance?" Luc inquired.

"State." Grantaire stated.

"What about his parents?" Luc questioned.

"Um, I'm not really sure what happened to them. All we know is that they're not in the picture." Grantaire shared.

"All right. I'll make some calls." Luc agreed.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it." Grantaire thanked.

"I became a therapist to help people. All right, my next client is here. I'll call you later." Luc hung up.

"So he said he'll make some calls. Get you hooked up." Grantaire grinned.

"Thank you, Grantaire. I still can't believe you're friends with your therapist." Jehan commented.

"Not friends. I still have his number but it's for emergencies." Grantaire explained.

Jehan nodded and sat down with his back against the wall.

"Do you wanna stay here? Or do you wanna go somewhere?" Grantaire asked, joining him.

"I don't think we can visit Courfeyrac, can we?" Jehan sighed.

"Probably not." Grantaire mirrored him.

"I have homework. Books at my apartment. Computer too." Jehan said.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Grantaire checked.

"Don't you have work?" Jehan asked.

"Normally, yes. But I have two weeks paid leave because Emma was so worried about me." Grantaire responded.

"You have a great boss." Jehan smiled.

"Yes, I do. Don't tell her that." Grantaire teased.

Jehan laughed then frowned. "Are we really going to make it, Grantaire?"

"I like to think so. I don't know the future but, I like to think that you'll all be happy in it." Grantaire replied.

"Thank you." Jehan said, resting his head on Grantaire's shoulder.

"For what?" Grantaire asked, confused.

"For telling me the truth. Not lying or lying by omission. Or thinking too optimistically. Optimism is hard in times like these." Jehan explained.

"You'll find a way. You always do." Grantaire promised.

"I think I want to be alone now. I think I'm okay enough to be alone. But maybe stay by your phone?" Jehan tried.

"Of course. I'm here if you need me." Grantaire promised.

"Thanks. I need you to drive me back." Jehan said but he didn't move.

"I know. Get up when you're ready." Grantaire allowed.

They sat there for another few minutes before Jehan got up. He drove him home while Jehan simply listened to the radio. He hugged Jehan and said goodbye before getting out his phone.

"'Chetta? Can I come over? It's important."

* * *

**All right everyone. I have decided to keep posting. Sorry about the whole deleting thing, I was just in a bit of a bad place over my writing. I don't have much faith in myself, but my friends are the best people in the world and they help me believe in myself. So it's staying. Unless I suddenly break my laptop. I'm really bad at computers so it might happen. But otherwise I'll keep this going until the end. So if you have any feedback, that would be lovely. It really makes my day when you guys review. Thanks for liking this so much.**


	14. Chapter 14

Musichetta welcomed him with open arms.

"You sounded upset on the phone. Are you all right?" Musichetta greeted.

Grantaire nodded. "Joly, can you swing by Jehan's flat? I want someone to check on him."

"Sure. I still got my Molecular Genetics textbook at his place." Joly nodded, unsure but understanding.

"Get it. I want someone with him." Grantaire ordered.

"Wanna tell me why?" Joly asked lightly.

"He'll tell you if he wants to but it's serious enough to press." Grantaire answered.

"How did he get home? I wasn't in the trunk this last time." Bousset inquired.

"He took a cab." Grantaire assured.

Bousset nodded.

"I'll check on him, while you head down the store." Joly offered and Bousset nodded. Grantaire knew Joly understood that he wanted to be alone with Musichetta. Otherwise, he would've called Joly.

"Don't tell him I sent you. But don't be satisfied with an 'I'm fine'." Grantaire said.

Joly nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired." He smiled.

Joly hugged him and then Bousset joined them. Then they headed out.

"What's wrong, dear?" Musichetta asked once Joly and Bousset left.

"I just need to be around someone who isn't falling apart right now." Grantaire sighed and got a beer from the fridge.

"What do you mean?" Musichetta pressed.

"I don't want to reveal something that Jehan has told me in confidence, but let's just say that there's a reason I sent Joly to go check on him." Grantaire plopped down on the couch, taking a long drink from the bottle.

Musichetta nodded and sat down next to him, snuggling up to him and running her fingers through his hair.

"You're a goddess. I love you." Grantaire hummed.

"I know." Musichetta snickered.

For a time, they just breathed together. Musichetta always knew how to calm someone down. It felt good to just relax with someone he trusted.

"So talk to me, Nikolas. What happened?" Musichetta asked.

"Jehan called me last night, or this morning or something. Got him handled but didn't sleep much. I don't want him to be alone just in case though. I'm sure he has it handled but I want to show him he's not alone in this. I got Combeferre to go home though." Grantaire replied, knowing Musichetta hadn't asked for details about Jehan but everything else.

"Really? That's fantastic." Musichetta praised.

"I had to threaten that the hospital staff would kick him out but at least it worked. He slept for a really long time. Jehan had already gotten up, went to the store and started making breakfast by the time I had to wake him. He must've been exhausted." Grantaire relayed.

"He probably was." Musichetta agreed.

"And he stank. Like hell. I made him shower at my place before he went home because I wasn't sure he'd shower when he got home. His clothes reeked so bad I had to drive to his apartment and get him new ones. I hated putting them in my car. They smelled so bad I wanted to burn them." Grantaire continued.

"That sounds horrible." Musichetta nodded.

"But at least he got clean and rested. God, I feel like such a mother hen. It's a weird feeling. I'm not usually the one taking care of everybody." Grantaire said.

"Well, I think you're doing a marvelous job of it." Musichetta smiled.

"Thank you." Grantaire returned it.

"And you know I'm here for you." Musichetta pressed.

"I know I'm not alone. I've got you guys." Grantaire accepted.

Musichetta pulled back, seemingly gratefully surprised.

"I know. I had the epiphany about three a.m. last night. Felt good." Grantaire sighed contentedly.

"I'm glad. It's about time you knew we love you as much as you love us." Musichetta teased playfully.

"It's hard. Thinking you're worthy of love. Especially after so many years of self-hate." Grantaire admitted, though it was only partly true. He knew his friends loved him but he couldn't for the life of him understand why and he certainly knew he wasn't worthy of love.

"I know, Nikolas. But I'm glad you know it. And I know that sometimes you'll forget that but at least the knowledge will be in the back of your head." Musichetta snuggled back into him.

He nuzzled his nose into where her shoulder meets her neck and wrapped his legs around her. Musichetta was the best cuddle-buddy. The first time he'd cuddled with her was an accident actually. It was a funny story that could've led to a great first date if she hadn't been dating Joly and Bousset.

Grantaire had still been new to the Amis when he went to their first sleepover for midterms. Enjolras barely spoke to him but Courfeyrac, Feuilly and Bahorel had already accepted him as a drinking buddy so he was invited to spend the night at Joly, Bousset and Musichetta's house while everyone was studying. He was terrified of being pranked and getting exposed that he spent most of the night still in his jacket. Eventually, he'd fallen asleep on the couch, anthropology textbook still in hand and Musichetta had sat down next to him since he was quiet and apparently he shifted right onto her shoulder. Thankfully Musichetta thought it was cute and took it in stride. By the time he woke up, he was resting on Musichetta's boobs. He scared himself so bad he fell off of her and landed right onto Bousset, who had fallen asleep beside the couch in order to be closer to Musichetta. He started apologizing profusely, thinking he was going to get kicked out of this lovely group of friends, but Bousset just laughed it off and Musichetta offered to have him go back to sleep on her. He nearly fainted when she did. He was so used to people staying twenty feet away from him because of who he was that when she offered he thought she was crazy. He ended up taking her offer, not wanting to insult her and found her heartbeat calmed him down immensely. After that, he went to great lengths to get to know Musichetta, and Joly and Bousset followed afterwards. And once he became friends with them, everyone else wasn't far off. Well, except Enjolras. Enjolras still often kept him at arm's length. But she managed to start to like him anyways so it didn't really matter.

Grantaire spent an uncountable amounts of heartbeats just snuggled into Musichetta, his heart swelling with comfort.

"You're the best, 'Chetta." He hummed contentedly.

"Oh thank you, my dear." She murmured.

"You're the most wonderful girl I've ever met." He muttered.

"What about Enjolras?" She asked.

"She's not _a_ girl. She's my girlfriend. Difference." He shot back.

"Good save mister." She chuckled.

"Oh why thank you but you started it." He retorted.

Musichetta laughed lightly.

"Has Joly gotten any calls about her? Is she doing better?" He asked seriously.

"No we haven't gotten anything. As far as we know, nothing's changed." She shook her head.

He nodded and sighed.

"She'll be all right, Nikolas. If pneumonia, a broken arm, multiple concussions, getting arrested, and getting straight A's hasn't killed her, I doubt this will. She's too strong for that." She reassured him.

"Yeah." He mused then a horrible thought entered his mind. "'Chetta what if she dies?"

"She's not going to." She stressed.

"But what if she does? We can't always be so optimistic we miss reality." He cried, tightening his hold on Musichetta.

"We're not missing reality. We have hope. We have trust. We have faith." She insisted.

"That's how you make pixie dust. That stuff's not real." He dismissed.

"The love we feel for her is, though. Don't you love her?" She retorted.

"Of course I love her. She's my girlfriend." He immediately answered.

"And if she wasn't your girlfriend?" She prompted.

"'Chetta, you know I fell in love with her at first sight." He sighed.

"And if she wasn't your girlfriend?" She repeated.

"Of course. I love her." He reiterated.

"So what you feel is real, right?" She asked.

"Of course. She's the most important thing to me, along with you guys." He said.

"I know. But the hope, faith, and trust comes from the love we have for her. That's not pixie dust or a trip to Neverland. Love is a powerful thing. It can do amazing things. You've seen it do amazing things." She pressed.

"What things?" He murmured, dejected.

"It made Enjolras. Love for her country, love for the people, love for the downtrodden, the oppressed and the love of equality. It made her who she is." She answered strongly.

"It wasn't love." He muttered before cursing himself.

Musichetta pulled away from him, confused. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. She told me a secret and I just started blurting it out. I'm sorry. Please don't tell her I said that." He backtracked.

"I won't. She told you a secret. Was this before you started dating?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Sort of." He guessed, trying to answer Musichetta's question without revealing that he and Enjolras had had sex.

"How do you get a secret from the most secretive person about the past we know, besides you, sort of before you were dating?" She frowned, trying to figure it out.

"Because at the time we weren't _officially_ dating." He hoped putting the emphasis on officially would hopefully throw her off the scent. When Enjolras got better and they agreed to tell the Amis, which might never happen, he would apologize and she'd understand. There was no way he was telling anyone that he and Enjolras had already slept together. It was bad enough Combeferre knew.

"Oh I get it. Still in that I-like-you-but-I-won't-admit-it phase. Gotcha. But my point still stands. Love is a powerful emotion. Love for her friends is what caused her to stand up for you to your sister." She continued on.

"She shouldn't have done that." He snapped, his anger at himself starting to come back full force.

Musichetta pinched his arm, hard. "Don't you do that."

"Do what?" He asked indignantly, rubbing his arm.

"Think about yourself like that. I know you, Nikolas Grantaire, and I know when you start to spiral. She knew what she was doing. She knew the risks. She was willing to die for you." She retorted.

"Yeah well she shouldn't have!" He screamed, his emotions erupting from the bottle he'd shoved them into. Musichetta looked at him, almost looking like she wanted to cry.

"You would die for any of us, right?" She asked suddenly, her voice steel.

"Of course. You're my friends, my family." He replied, immediately but meaningfully.

"So why can't we die for you? We love you, Nikolas, and I know we always will. I know for a fact that you are a gentle, kind, decent person-" She started.

"But I'm not decent! If you knew, you'd never speak to me again." He shouted and he pulled away from her.

She stared at him for a little while on her side of the couch.

"Nikolas, talk to me." She insisted.

He shook his head.

"Nikolas, talk to me." She repeated. "You know what happens when you keep this inside of you. Talk to me."

"You won't want to hear it." He whispered.

She crawled back over to him and took his hands in hers. "Please."

Unable to resist Musichetta, he sighed. "Essentially, I made a deal with the devil."

"And the devil being…" She prompted.

"My family. In order to get them to leave us all alone, I promised them I wouldn't rat on them. Not to cops, not to prosecutors, not to anybody. Technically, I don't think I should be telling you." He couldn't look at her.

A hand grasped his face rather roughly and spun him around to see Musichetta's distraught expression.

"Is that what's been bugging you since you got back?" She asked, cutting to his heart.

He nodded. "Some of it."

"Oh sweetheart, you can't blame yourself for protecting us. Honestly, I feel much better knowing they won't come back." She started stroking his hair gently and he started crying.

"Don't. I can't guarantee they'll hold up their end of the bargain. Hence the devil part." He shook his head.

"That's their problem. I have no doubt one day they'll answer for their crimes and what they did to you. And I hope to God they fry when they do because messing with my Nikolas is a crime worthy of death! This is not your fault. You did not do this." She just grabbed a tissue and wiped his tears away, like a mother would.

"But I did. I'm the one who suggested it!" He admitted.

"To save our friends. To save Enjolras. To save everyone you care about. That's not a deal with the devil. A deal with the devil is something selfish. Something horrible that puts others at risk. You saved _yourself_ from a horrific situation."

"It wasn't that bad." He dismissed.

"They were going to kill you and that would've destroyed us. Watching you get taken and not speaking up. Letting you just walk out that door." She said despondently.

"You didn't. Enjolras was going to die if you didn't get help. I had to! You guys couldn't have stopped her. If you had tried, all of you would've gotten shot!" He exclaimed.

"And you stopped her. You got away from those awful people. And I thank the universe each day that you came home safe. I can't even imagine what would've happened if you didn't. I know Enjolras would never have forgiven herself." She countered.

"Enjolras got shot! How am I supposed to forgive myself for that?" He demanded.

"Darling, your sister's actions are not your own. Those people are not your family. I am your family now. I will bring you home for thanksgiving and we will put some pounds on you. Men in my family do not stay this thin for long." She teased.

"Please don't tell anyone I did that. Especially Enjolras. She'd never forgive me." He begged.

"If it will make you feel better, I will keep this a secret. Enjolras will understand. But see? You keep using her in the present tense. If you had really abandoned all hope, you wouldn't do that. You wouldn't tell me not to tell her things. You'd say was and the like. Past tense. I don't think you've given up on her." She agreed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so." He realized. He hadn't even realized it but she was right. There was a part of him, he wasn't sure how big or how small, but there was a part of him that seemed to know Enjolras was going to survive.

"I want you to repeat after me. What they did was not my fault." She started.

"What they did was not my fault." He repeated.

"Say it again." She prompted.

"What they did was not my fault." He reiterated.

"Say it louder." She tried.

"What they did was not my fault." He did as she asked.

"Now believe it this time!" She pressed.

"What they did was not my fault!" He shouted, emotionally spent but grateful he had such wonderful friends. It was probably about time he stopped associating any emotion with those people. After all, they weren't his family. His family were the twelve people he met with every Friday to improve the world. And here was Musichetta saying the same thing.

Suddenly, he burst out laughing, still slightly crying.

"What is it?" Musichetta asked.

"I just did that same trick on Marius yesterday. He was pretty upset about Courfeyrac since he appointed himself Courfeyrac's guardian at school. He figured not catching that he wasn't taking his meds was his fault. It's amazing how different we all are, and yet we have very similar issues." Grantaire responded.

"I've noticed that. I think it's why we're all such good friends. We know what we're all going through, essentially." She smiled.

"I'm sorry for breaking down on you." He apologized.

"Darling, that is what I'm here for. That and hugs." She amended and he snickered.

"Good food too." He added and she laughed.

"Nikolas, there is much more to you than guilt and grief. Don't let them consume you. You're a brilliant young man and there is no one I want to see succeed more." She kissed his cheek and smiled.

He laid his head down on her shoulder and sighed. She started stroking his hair again and he hummed lightly. After spending some time in that position, Musichetta moved to where his head was resting in her lap and he was everything but asleep. Eventually, the door opened and someone came in loudly before being quickly hushed.

"Hush, boys. I think he's asleep." Musichetta shushed.

"Sorry." Joly and Bousset chimed in together.

"'M not 'sleep." Grantaire mumbled.

"Of course not, honey." Musichetta agreed quietly.

Still, he lifted his head enough and tried to roll off the couch. He barely made it a centimeter.

"Honey, just go to sleep." Musichetta whispered gently.

"How was Jehan?" Grantaire asked, still on the edge of sleep but awake enough to realize his surroundings.

"He's all right enough. I know something happened last night, I could see that, but he wouldn't tell me. But he was glad enough for the company and helped me and Bousset with the groceries." Joly answered tersely. Joly never liked being kept out of the loop.

"I'm sorry, Joly, I'd tell you if I could. You know that." Grantaire sighed, finally deciding to push himself off of Musichetta. But all he really managed to do was roll off the couch and onto the floor.

And once he was on the floor, he didn't move. He just groaned.

"Nikolas, why don't you just take a nap?" Musichetta chuckled.

He moaned louder.

Joly and Bousset grabbed him and hauled him up and he finally forced himself to wake up fully. He shook the cobwebs out of his head and sighed.

"Sorry, my sleep schedules a bit out of whack." Grantaire yawned.

"I realized that. When did you get to bed last night?" Joly asked, pressing his hand against Grantaire's forehead.

"I'm not sick. I just had to deal with Jehan last night." Grantaire dismissed.

"Answer me." Joly pressed.

"Um, I got Combeferre into bed around eleven thirty, fell asleep about midnight and then about one Jehan called me and I didn't get back to sleep until at least three." Grantaire admitted.

"Well, I want you to get to bed early tonight." Joly demanded.

"Joly, I plan to. I'm exhausted." Grantaire acquiesced.

"All right."

_I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Called a police and a fireman  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Make a dragon wanna retire man  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Say my name you know who I am  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Am I bad 'bout that money, break it down_

"Whose ringtone is that?" Musichetta laughed.

"Jehan's." Grantaire pulled out his phone. "Hey Jehan."

"Hey Taire. I decided to see if I could see Courfeyrac anyway. He's awake. And he wants to see you." Jehan started.

All traces of fatigue left him. He was very surprised but thankful his friend wanted to see him.

"Yeah sure I'll head over right away." Grantaire agreed.

"Thanks. I gotta get to class so I gotta leave now but the receptionist knows your coming." Jehan finished.

"Hey, have you from his parents? Has anyone?" Grantaire asked.

"Apparently, they're camping and they always turn their phones off when they go camping. But they should be getting home in the next few days and then they'll come running over here." Jehan answered.

"Thank God. I'm glad it's just that. Thanks, Jehan. I'm heading over now." Grantaire hung up.

"What was that?" Bousset asked.

"Courf is awake and he wants to see me." Grantaire replied, searching for his keys.

"Shoo! Shoo! Go see him and tell him we love him!" Musichetta all but shoved him out of the house.

He found his keys and headed to his Element. He drove as quickly as he could back over to the hospital. The receptionist was kind and directed him to the nurse's station who directed him to Courfeyrac's room.

"He's still heavily medicated so if he falls asleep don't worry. That's totally normal." The nurse at the station said.

Grantaire nodded before knocking gently.

"Come in." A weak voice called out. He slowly entered the room and saw Courfeyrac hooked up to several machines. But he gave a tired smile and that made Grantaire's heart burst with joy.

"I'm sorry." Courfeyrac mumbled as Grantaire pulled up Jehan's old chair.

"For what?" Grantaire asked.

"Doing that to you after what happened with Enjolras. You don't deserve that." Courfeyrac murmured.

"You're right. I don't. I deserve two friends who get the help they need." Grantaire said, trying to be sneaky and clever and get Courfeyrac to commit to getting help.

Courfeyrac smiled, obviously seeing right through him. "No need, Taire. They won't release me until they're sure that I'm not at risk. And my medication is helping considerably."

"It's already working?" Grantaire asked hopefully. He thought it would take longer for his medication to reuptake in his system.

"Oh yeah. Going off like that the meds run out quick. But going back on is quicker. Especially when I don't have a choice." Courfeyrac just lifted his arm to show the IVs in his arm.

After a moment of silence, Grantaire sighed.

"I'm not going to ask why. You're going to get that a lot and honestly I'm not going to add to it. I just want you to know you're not alone in this fight. I'm here for you. I'm just came from Joly, Bousset and Musichetta. They send their love. And we all love you. And I know for a fact that Enjolras loves you. Because otherwise, I'm seriously sure she would've killed you freshman year. And if you need a therapist, I can hook you up." Grantaire laughed when Courfeyrac grinned at the end.

"Thank you, but the hospital's got me covered. Apparently, when I'm better, there's this little clinic they have that seems to have great results." Courfeyrac nodded.

"Good." Grantaire smiled.

"I love the redecoration by the way." Courfeyrac chuckled.

"Oh yeah. We were hoping to convince you that we loved you and that we need you." Grantaire smiled at him.

"I like the lamination. Now I can save all this stuff." Courfeyrac returned it sleepily.

"Oh they wouldn't let us put it up without it." Grantaire admitted before wincing.

"Don't worry. I understand. Nothing I can use to hurt myself. The medication helps but I'm not healthy really. I still need help." Courfeyrac sighed.

"But we'll still be by your side for that. Or whatever you need us to do." Grantaire promised.

"I know. But I think I should get out of the hospital first." Courfeyrac yawned.

A knock interrupted them next and a petite nurse came in.

"Sorry but I'm going to have to cut this short. His doctor is going to talk to him a bit earlier than schedule." The nurse frowned understandably.

"Sure, of course. I'll talk to you later Courfeyrac." Grantaire headed out before stopping at the doorway. "Hey, wait. One last thing. Why'd you want to see me over everyone else?"

"Jehan was here earlier before he had to go to class and I wanted to see Combeferre but he said that he was probably asleep so I didn't want to bother him." Courfeyrac shrugged, his eyelids drooping.

"You're not a bother. He would've come." Grantaire pressed.

"Still. Lately, we all need… our… sleep." Courfeyrac's eyes closed and he fell asleep.

Grantaire smiled and kissed Courfeyrac's cheek. Then he turned to the nurse. "Does the doctor really have to see him now? I don't want to wake him."

"Oh he's not really sleeping asleep. The medication makes him drowsy not tired. The doctor knocking will wake him." The nurse assured him.

He nodded.

"You guys are very good at this." The nurse commented lightly.

"Pardon?" He exclaimed, almost offended by her light tone.

"Oh, no, that's not exactly what I meant. I meant that most people visiting people here cry, constantly ask why and badger them. Unfortunately, it usually makes the patient think and focus on their family and friends' pain instead of their own and it usually makes it worse. But you guys seem to just know that you shouldn't ask or show your pain at his actions. I'm impressed." She explained.

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, if I was suicidal I wouldn't want anyone prying into my depression except my therapist. Respect, you know."

"Of course." She nodded.

"Hey you wouldn't happen to know anything about Julia Enjolras, wouldn't you?" He tried.

"Vivien asked about her earlier. No change as far as I could tell but I'm not her nurse. You may want to visit her yourself." She frowned.

All right. Thanks anyway." He thanked her and headed over to the cafeteria and grabbed some decaf. Then he went over to Enjolras's room.

He groaned the minute he got there. Combeferre was there with a backpack full of essentials. He was hovering over her, wiping her forehead with a wet rag.

"I thought I told you to go home." Grantaire growled, scaring Combeferre.

"Don't do that!" Combeferre snapped.

"Sorry. But I still told you to go home." Grantaire set his coffee down next to her.

"I couldn't stand being there. I grabbed some stuff, like my toothbrush I'm sure my breath was awful, and headed back here. I can't stand not being by her side in case something happened. She's… She needs me." Combeferre's voice cracked and Grantaire's stomach sunk. Combeferre was terrified. That was never good.

"But 'Ferre, you can't stay here forever. Hence the term visiting hours." Grantaire tried.

"Don't care. Got a few sympathetic security guards and nurses. That's all I need." Combeferre shrugged.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Grantaire asked.

"Yes." Combeferre thought.

"Other than the breakfast I gave you?" Grantaire clarified.

"… No." Combeferre admitted.

"Fine. Take my coffee while I get you some food." Grantaire handed Combeferre his coffee and headed out.

"Wait, Taire!" Combeferre called out. Grantaire went back inside. "Take my card. I know you have a lot to pay for and you haven't gone to work so I don't want you pay for me."

Grantaire kissed Combeferre's cheek. "Thank you. But don't worry about me. I've got two weeks of paid leave."

"Your boss is wonderful." Combeferre sighed.

"Yeah. Now you will eat what I buy for you. No matter what." Grantaire ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Combeferre saluted.

Grantaire laughed and headed back down to the cafeteria. He checked the menu and saw the healthiest thing he could buy. The roasted turkey breast with the vegetable salad. He swiped Combeferre's card, signed his name and headed back upstairs. He handed his food to the recipient and waited to speak until Combeferre finished the sandwich. It wasn't long. But the entire time, he spent staring at Enjolras. Sweat poured down her face, her eyes were darting around like she was having a nightmare, and the fact that she still hasn't left ICU was worrisome. It meant she was still very much in danger.

"You know, this was actually somewhat good. Thanks." Combeferre smiled gently.

As it was one of the first genuine smiles he'd seen on Combeferre for a long time, he immediately smiled back.

"So where are her parents?" Grantaire inquired lightly, missing the ever present presence of Madame and Monsieur Enjolras.

"At work. Or rather at the hotel room working as best as they can. Their lives can't end because their daughter is in the hospital." Combeferre shrugged.

"God, I feel so bad for them. I can't imagine the pain they're in. If it were my daughter, I'd track the bastard who shot her down and fuck him over so bad they wouldn't be able to recognize the prick." Grantaire spat.

"So you want to murder Rachel so murdered that no one can recognize her?" Combeferre questioned skeptically.

"Rachel can go fuck herself." Grantaire growled.

"So can you." Combeferre murmured.

"What?" Grantaire called, unsure if he heard right.

"Never mind, it's nothing." Combeferre waved him off.

Suddenly, the machines went wild as Enjolras suddenly started jerking around and he went to her and spit was bubbling up in her mouth and it was popping slightly as her mouth seemed to be stuck tight. Nurses swarmed the room and a hand shoved him hard.

"Get the fuck outta here, Grantaire! You're fucking useless!" Combeferre screamed as he shoved him again.

Trying not to cry, Grantaire headed over to the nurses' station. His only thought was 'he's upset, he doesn't mean it, he's upset, he doesn't mean it.'

"Is she going to be okay?" He asked, gesturing to Enjolras's room.

"Sweetie, I don't think that's for me to say." A nurse said before heading back to work.

He felt utterly destroyed. Feeling like he was swimming through wet cement, he went back down to the waiting room, waiting for Combeferre to come and tell him Enjolras was dying. No wonder Combeferre was so scared. He didn't cry but tears were on the verge of spilling down his cheeks for what felt like years. Then a hand was on his shoulder. Combeferre sat next to him.

"Sorry." Combeferre said simply. "It's just when she gets like that, I sort of scream at everyone. I was two seconds away from doing that to Enjolras's parents before I caught myself."

"She's really bad, isn't she?" Grantaire choked.

"To be perfectly honest, yes. A lot of people don't survive getting shot in the chest. And then there's the infection and her immune system was weak as it is." Combeferre started crying. "Sorry I'm just so terrified. Every morning I wake up thinking she's dead or thinking I'm going to get _that_ speech and I've never felt more useless in my life. I can't help her here."

"Hey, it's okay. She'll pull through. She hasn't changed enough lives yet." Grantaire tried.

"Oh like you believe she can do that. You constantly berate her, and you drink way too much and you know she hates that, you interrupt her all the time, and every time she's tried to trust you, you fail because it's not fucking worth it to you!" Combeferre shouted.

"Hey I've cut down on the drinking these past few weeks-" Grantaire tried.

"Oh whoop de doo! Good for you! I'm so fucking proud! But it's not like you love her enough to stop!" Combeferre yelled.

"Hey! Now I am a list of things, and why she is dating me I'll never know but never say I don't love her! I've loved her since the minute I laid eyes on her!" Grantaire raised his voice, his anger which had been a small spark in his mind erupted into a bright flame. How dare he! Grantaire knew he wasn't worth much but there was no question of how much he loved her.

"See? You don't love her! You love the persona she has on stage! That's not her! Did you know she loves the color purple?" Combeferre growled.

"Ah but her favorite color is amber!" Grantaire countered.

"No, you idiot the book! It's one of her favorites! She ever lend you her copy? No, that was me. And you couldn't even bother to show up to the color run! It was too early for you!" Combeferre spat.

"I was sick that morning!" Grantaire defended.

"Yeah, right. You sounded fine on the phone." Combeferre scoffed.

"I didn't talk to you, I talked to Courfeyrac! He believed me!" Grantaire shot back.

"Courfeyrac believes everyone. And he had you on speaker phone because he was actually doing work and carrying t-shirts so I heard every word you said!" Combeferre screamed.

Grantaire felt two seconds away from punching Combeferre when a very large man pulled them both apart and he saw a rent-a-cop push himself between them.

"Look, boys, if you don't be quiet I'm sorry but I gotta kick you out. You're disturbing people, patients and the staff. If you're gonna fight, go outside and then come in and get treated." The rent-a-cop said steely.

"Of course, sir. I'm so sorry." Grantaire clamped down on his anger to just get them both outside. He started hauling Combeferre out, calling out to everyone that he was sorry and they were going to leave.

Once they were outside, he threw Combeferre into the empty lot before them and let his anger loose. His voice was deadly quiet.

"All right, 'Ferre, you know what? I've had enough. I am not going to be treated like your fucking punching bag anymore. I am done. I am worth more than to be treated like this. I know you're upset, I know you're grieving and I know you're going through hell. I'm going through it too if you don't fucking mind. You think you've got it bad? Courfeyrac went through a horrible withdrawal, Jehan gave himself bruises, and Enjolras is fucking dying! And what are you doing? Cussing out your friends, shouting at Enjolras's parents, hurting the very woman you claim to love by not letting staying calm when you know she hates it when you yell! Now I know you're scared, I am too, but that doesn't give you the right to use me as nothing more than a doormat. I am not your personal whipping boy! The constant cuss words I could manage. The insults I could manage. But you fucking crossed a line today. So either stay away from us or get over yourself and be a human being again!"

"Oh shut up Grantaire! Everyone knows I'm the guide! You're the cynic who can never do anything right!" Combeferre sneered.

"Not anymore! Jehan tried you desperately last night because he had a drug scare! That's right, not your parents, Jehan trying his absolute best not to take drugs. Courfeyrac went to me because you were blowing up at the people who loved you most! He couldn't talk to you! Marius feels god awful because he thought Courfeyrac's actions were his fault and I had to talk to him to make sure his guilt didn't start to consume him! I'm the guide now! Everyone else has accepted that because we don't need a guide who won't answer his phone, refuses to be patient, and won't even fucking eat!" Somehow, his subconscious worry about Combeferre's health wormed it's way into that last sentence and honestly, he'd lost control so he didn't give a shit. The only thing that mattered was making sure that Combeferre knew how hurt they all were by his actions.

Combeferre stopped and if he wasn't angry Grantaire would've been terrified. He'd only seen that expression a few times, and the one that stuck out in his memory was when Eponine had almost been groped by an entitled frat boy and Combeferre ripped him to pieces.

"That's not true." Combeferre's lips were trembling, and his eyes were flashing.

"Every. Word." Grantaire enunciated.

Combeferre sighed and made the if-that's-how-it's-gonna-be face. "I'm going back inside. Enjolras needs someone who knows what's best for her. And by the way, I'm the one she trusts more than anyone else. Not you."

"Shut the fuck up, Combeferre. And if anyone calls for you, give them to me since I actually care about all of our friends. Not just her. I'll be the one who everyone goes to with their problems. I'll help people with their homework. I'll make sure Courfeyrac and Jehan get to their appointments, even if I have to drive them myself! I'll actually look out for the well-being of our friends. And guess who she's going to be disappointed in when she wakes up?" Grantaire knew he just cut deep but he didn't really care.

Combeferre didn't say anything else and only plowed his shoulder into Grantaire and walked back inside.

Grantaire thought about following him in there but he knew it wasn't work. So he just went back to his car and headed home. He had an art project due in an hour and he wasn't finished.

* * *

**Hey everybody! This note is rather short. I've started school so my updates may be quicker for a time and then a break. No idea. I have a heavy workload this semester. But not as many exams. We'll see. Also, I'm not a med student or a doctor, so if anything is medically incorrect I'm sorry I'm trying to do research but I know I may not always be super accurate. If you have a suggestion, please tell me. I want this to be as accurate as possible. Well, leave a review if you want to (please want to) and I'll see you later.**


	15. Chapter 15

A week had gone by with the exact same routine day by day. He'd wake up, hit class, call Combeferre intermittently, finish the homework he couldn't do online, and then head over to Enjolras's room to finish out the day. Except every time he called Combeferre, all he got was voicemail. The one time he tried calling on Joly's phone, the minute he said his name Combeferre hung up. Every time he visited Enjolras he got up and left. Grantaire could never figure out where he went but speaking to him was apparently out of the question. He hated it and he hated himself for what he said. It was one thing to get angry, but another to completely lose control and say the things he did. Combeferre was his friend and he didn't deserve that. And to top it all off, he couldn't even apologize. He'd never wanted to apologize to anyone so badly. But he was beginning to think he had ruined his relationship with Combeferre completely. And that is what he regretted most. Combeferre had always been a good friend to him and there was no way that Enjolras would choose him over Combeferre. Combeferre was a much better person than he was.

Still, he had class to go to and art to study. So just like last week, he gathered up his things and went to class.

**Marius**: Hey Grantaire, do you mind coming over for a bit? Cosette's over at her dad's place and I'm trying to clean up the apartment for when Courfeyrac comes home. And I'm not really sure how what goes on what and how to apply it and stuff.

**Grantaire**: Of course. I'll be over after class.

So once the professor let him go, he headed over to Courfeyrac and Marius's apartment. Marius was on the floor, surrounded by several cleaning products.

"Did you leave anything out?" Grantaire teased.

"No. I didn't know what cleaned what so I just got everything and a couple things from Cosette's." Marius answered literally, probably unaware that Grantaire was joking.

"Okay, so what do you want to clean first?" Grantaire asked.

"Well, I thought since Courfeyrac always has a hard time cleaning his room, I'd do it for him for when he came home. Depression websites say that a clean room makes you feel better." Marius stated.

Grantaire leaned over the cleaning supplies and kissed Marius's hair. Marius turned to him, surprised.

"What was that for?" Marius asked innocently.

"Because you're adorable. Let's get started." Grantaire smiled.

Marius nodded, stood and jumped over the supplies. Grantaire and Marius gathered up the supplies and headed into Courfeyrac's room. It was a mess. Clothes were strewn all over the place, school supplies were all over his desk in no shape of order, and his bed and dresser in an utter state of chaos.

"Wow. I didn't think Courfeyrac was this lazy." Grantaire mused.

"He's not lazy. People with depression don't get up the motivation to clean their room. I don't think he went to class either." Marius sighed.

"You're a good friend for doing this." Grantaire reminded him.

Marius gave him a shaky smile.

"All right. So start with the Windex on the mirror, but wipe it clear before it hits the wood. For the wood, use the oil soap. That will handle the wood." Grantaire said,

"Which one is that?" Marius asked, frowned.

"Pretty sure it's that one." Grantaire pointed.

Marius nodded and went to work on the vanity. Grantaire started cleaning up the trash. After a few hours, and lots of paper towels and rags, Marius and Courfeyrac's apartment was finally clean. His sheets and blankets had been shoved in the washing machine (that took both of them), his clothes had been cleaned, folded and put away (that Marius handled since he had a semblance of how Courfeyrac organized his clothes) and the dust and dirt was gone. Marius and Grantaire eventually collapsed on the couch, absolutely exhausted.

"I never knew one apartment could have so much dirt." Grantaire groaned.

"It's Courfeyrac. Don't be surprised." Marius joked.

Grantaire smiled.

"So why aren't you talking to Combeferre anymore?" Marius asked bluntly.

Grantaire stared at him, confused.

"Well, I texted him and asked him if he wanted to help clean the apartment and he auto-replied that all calls and texts must now go to you. It didn't sound like him so I tried again and he said that you said that he was to do that and I got curious which is one of the reasons of why I texted you." Marius explained.

"Well, we had a huge fight the other day. And I said some things that I regret now and I know it really hurt him. And he hasn't forgiven me for it." Grantaire sighed.

"Why were you so cruel to him?" Marius asked, frowning.

"Because I was angry. I wasn't thinking about him in any sort of positive light. I was hurt, he said some pretty horrible things too, and honestly I just wanted him to hurt as bad as he hurt me. As he hurt all of us. I was really worried about him and he all but threw it in my face. And then I threw his faults into _his_ face. So we progressively got worse to each other and now he won't see me. I can't apologize to him. I really want to but it seems he won't let me." Grantaire simplified the fight.

Marius contemplated that for a while. "If I were Combeferre, I don't think I'd want to talk to you too. If I were you, I'd just give him a text that says I'll give you space and when you're ready, I'm ready to apologize to you."

Grantaire smiled and wrapped his arms around Marius, squishing him tightly. Marius's arms went a bit wild as he struggled to figure out how to react but Grantaire released him before he could.

"Thanks, Marius. You know you're very good at ideas." Grantaire praised.

"Would you tell Enjolras that? Maybe she'd believe you." Marius inquired.

"What do you mean?" Grantaire asked.

"She doesn't believe Cosette. Or Eponine." Marius shrugged. "Oh! Speaking of Cosette, she wants to talk to you."

"Sure. I'll call her when I get home." Grantaire agreed.

"No, she wants you over at her house. Something about equipment or a machine. Not sure. She wasn't talking into the phone when she said it." Marius pressed.

"You know what? Sure. I can pop over for a couple minutes, I suppose." Grantaire grinned.

"Good." Marius nodded.

"And the only reason she doesn't believe Cosette or Eponine isn't because they are in love with you, but because Enjolras needs to see things to believe them. She isn't much into faith when it comes to people." Grantaire added.

"She has faith in you." Marius noted.

"She knows more about me than most. That's why." Grantaire dismissed.

"No, this was before you came out. Enjolras and I have always differed through politics but she always heard you out. She'd ignore me all the time, or at least act like she was ignoring me. But she always paid attention to you." Marius stated.

"She never ignored you, Marius. You can't just listen to one side of the story in politics." Grantaire changed the subject. He was delving into uncharted territory.

"Sorry, I'm sure you don't want to talk about her when she's in such critical condition." Marius frowned.

"She's- yeah she's a bit of a sensitive topic right now." Grantaire said tightly.

"Did you fight about her?" Marius asked, cutting right to the bone.

"Yes. She was a big part of that fight." Grantaire admitted.

"I think that's because you both love her and you love each other. But right now you can't love each other because you're giving all your love to her." Marius noticed.

"That's… a really good way of saying that." Grantaire smiled.

"Thanks." Marius blushed.

"All right. If I'm going to meet Cosette, and finish my thirteenth century art paper by tomorrow, I gotta head over now." Grantaire sighed and got off the couch. Marius walked him to the door.

"You staying here?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah, I've run out of days for Monsieur Valjean to allow me to sleep over. I don't want him to get worried about me spending so much time with Cosette. And I do also want to be ready in case Courfeyrac comes home soon." Marius admitted.

"Do you know when?" Grantaire asked, surprised at the new information.

"All the doctors would tell me was soon. Since he didn't commit himself, the doctors can keep him for as long as they want. They'll keep him until they believe he's not a danger to himself or others." Marius shrugged dejectedly.

"Well, let's just have faith that he will come home soon." Grantaire smiled and Marius seemed to perk up a bit.

Grantaire then headed over to Cosette's. He pulled up the huge house that was just short of a mansion and walked through Valjean's massive garden and knocked on the huge door. A chirp of a 'Come in' answered. He went through the unlocked door and looked for Cosette and found her in the living room.

"Tea?" She smiled brightly.

He nodded and she poured him a cup of her already made tea. It seemed she expected him.

"Marius called and said you were coming." Cosette said, as bubbly as ever.

"I'm glad to see you're in a good mood." Grantaire smiled, her good mood seemingly infectious.

"Well someone has to be. Marius says that you and Combeferre have been fighting." Cosette stated.

"Yeah we have. But you said you needed to see me?" Grantaire tried to change the subject.

"Oh yes. If you would please, step into the kitchen. I've got some cake baking." Cosette chirped and he followed her into the lavish kitchen he could fit three normal living rooms in.

He sat down at the island and she placed a recorder in front of him.

"Is there a reason we have to record what we're doing?" He asked, completely taken aback.

"Yes." Cosette nodded and stopped. She then checked on her cake, and started mixing her icing. "Okay so hit the button."

He started the recording.

"It's on." He informed her.

"Thank you. Now, I want you to tell me everything you know about Rachel and your previous family." Cosette said, unusually firm.

"Excuse me?" He was stunned. What the hell was Cosette doing getting involved in any of this?

"Tell me everything. What has your entire family ever been convicted of? Where? Where does she hang out? Safe houses? Friends? Maybe other family?" Cosette grilled.

"Cosette-" He tried.

"I'm serious. What are their arrests and convictions?" Cosette interrogated.

"Um, not many. Dad was arrested for narcotics possession when I was seven, served about a year, and they tried going after my mom but she is very good at not getting caught. She was arrested when I was five though, for suspected human trafficking but she was never convicted. But when I was six, she was arrested on a weapons charge. That was for her AK-47. She was given probation because she ended up in front of Judge Carmichael. We supplied his- not cocaine habit but his- shit- his morphine habit, that's what it was. So I think that's about it with my parents. Next would be Rémy. He got arrested when I was four because he knifed another dealer. Spent about five years in prison. Dirty prosecutor but straight judge. Ryan and I have been arrested but never been convicted. Ryan was on suspicion of a murder charge but Mom slipped a couple hundred bucks to the right cops and it went away. I was arrested for- you know what? I don't think you need to know that. Especially since I don't know who you're giving this recording to."

"What makes you think I'm giving it to someone?" She asked, frowning.

"The fact that you're recording it. If you weren't giving it to someone else to get my words, you wouldn't be recording it." He deduced.

"All right. I am giving it to someone else." She blushed, caught.

"Who?" He pressed.

"Later. Now where were their convictions?" She went on.

"In the same town they've lived in all their lives. They never went anywhere." He answered.

"Where does Rachel hang out?" She asked.

"I don't know. It's been a long time since I last saw my sister." He shrugged.

"Any place you can think of?" She pressed.

"I don't know, Cosette. It's not like we have coffee every Thursday!" He snapped.

She frowned. He knew he had to stop her from doing that. He couldn't ruin her good mood.

"I'm sorry. Um, there was this little bistro she liked. Danny Boy's. Off of Main Street." He panicked slightly. An upset Cosette was not something he wanted to cause.

"Okay. Safe houses?" She nodded.

"That's really just a movie thing. Drugs dealers don't have safe houses stashed away like the Marshalls do. We aren't rich enough." He shot down.

"I thought you controlled a lot of town." She proposed.

"They do. They control the bad parts. They don't get paid in billions. They usually just scrape by since they have expensive taste for their work. I didn't really get much growing up. It went into cars, and guns and Rachel. She was always their favorite because she was so much like Mom. Speaking of, she is a Mom now. Reese is the baby girl. I don't know about the father." He remembered.

"So friends? Family?" She inquired.

"I wouldn't know about any friends. I'm not sure she has the capacity to make friends. Um, for family, I got a grandma in Tuscaloosa. I have a cousin in- no wait. He's dead. At least I think he's dead. Yeah I'm pretty sure he's dead." He stopped when Cosette suddenly dropped a few large metal pots.

She apologized as he whipped around and helped her clean up. But once he put the pots up, she just sat there.

"How can you do it?" She asked.

"Do what?" He tried.

"Talk about death that way. Your brother was nothing to you. Now a cousin. I mean, I know I don't have much family but if any one of you died, I'd be devastated. But you… you just breeze by it." She frowned, her innocence still plain on her face.

"Oh 'Zette, it's not that. I've been desensitized to all this. They don't matter to me. You guys do. I mean, I cried when I woke up in the hospital because Enjolras was in danger. When I got home after Courfeyrac, I cried. I sobbed until I couldn't cry any more. But these people, it's like, listing the victims of the Titanic. I can't relate to them anymore. I honestly never could. But you are adorable and I hope to God that you never lose your innocence." He pressed a kiss to her hair.

"Well, I'm not some naïve ditz who sits around and waits for something to get done because she doesn't know how to do it! I do it, whether I know how to or not!" She stated determinedly.

"You know, not many people aren't afraid of my family. That can be quite dangerous." He frowned, hoping Cosette hadn't gotten in too deep already.

"Oh I'm afraid of them. But I won't let that stop me. Fear is only a bad thing if you allow it to stop you." She assured him.

"Thattagirl. But if you ever come across any of them, Rachel especially, _do not_ engage. Let the police handle that." He let her infer that he was asking for her word.

She got it. "Yes, sir. I will not engage."

He smiled.

"Speaking of the police, what do they intend to do with this tape?" He asked lightly.

"Well, it depends on their list of hide- hey. How'd you know I was giving it to the police?" She caught.

"Because who else needs these answers?" He replied.

She conceded his point. "Well someone needs to be in contact with the police and although Enjolras would be the prime candidate, she's out of commission at the moment. So I stepped up. They've been trying to get ahold of you for quite a bit before you never answer."

"Oh I don't answer blocked calls. And my voicemail is full all the time now. I've got like five hundred calls from people I barely know, if at all, calling about Enjolras. I've been trying to get them all back but there's so many and more just come every day. Though a lot are teachers or her friends. I think. But I can't answer them all and I have no idea how they got my number." He shrugged.

"Is everything all right? I heard a crash." Valjean's voice startled them both.

"Papa, you scared me." Cosette chastised.

"Sorry, dear." Valjean smiled good-naturedly.

"Everything's all right. I just dropped a few pots." Cosette shrugged.

"All right, dear. Hello, Nikolas. It's nice to see you." Valjean smiled.

"You too, sir." Grantaire responded.

"Any news to report?" Valjean asked.

"No, sir. I'm afraid not. Hopefully, Courfeyrac will be home soon but right now it's still up in the air." Grantaire relayed.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that. I know he and Marius are rather close and I would hate for anything to happen to him." Valjean frowned.

"Yeah." Grantaire managed.

"Are you going to start dinner soon, Cosette?" Valjean asked.

"Yes, Papa. I thought I might make some tortellini." Cosette nodded.

"Sounds wonderful. Will you be staying for dinner, son?" Valjean inquired.

"Not sure. I do have a paper I have to finish after this so I might just head on home but if I have time, sure." Grantaire agreed, knowing he wasn't staying for dinner.

"Good lad." Valjean clapped him on the back.

"Papa, could you run to the store and get me some mozzarella? We're almost out." Cosette asked.

"Sure, my dear." Valjean nodded and Grantaire waved as he left.

"I think that's about it." Cosette hit the stop button on the recording. "So what are you going to do about you and Combeferre?"

"Well, Marius gave me some good advice so I'm going to do that. It was much more profound than I ever thought Marius capable of." Grantaire mused.

Cosette smacked him.

"Gah, that's not what I meant. I just meant that Marius is usually a ditz when it comes to social interaction. I mean, the first time he saw you, he nearly threw up on you and then ran away. Tell me how he's so great at talking to people." Grantaire explained.

"Okay so maybe he's not so good at that. But I thought it was romantic that he was so flustered around me." Cosette defended.

"Well I guess somebody had to. And we're glad it was you. I can't imagine life with Marius without you." Grantaire shuddered.

"Did you know him for a year before I came here? I'm only a freshman and he's a sophomore." She frowned.

"Courfeyrac waited a bit before bringing him around and when he did, Enjolras scared him so bad he barely breathed without her permission. After a few months, she started to encourage him and then we all wished she hadn't. Marius never shut up about his father's politics for hours. Enjolras hated that since the politics were outdated and honestly they weren't what the Amis were about. It took forever to get him to shut up so he could listen to someone else so we could bring him up to date. Enjolras was so very loud that day. Then he went back to not blinking without permission. After summer, you showed up. And Marius went from the boy who won't shut up about politics to the boy who won't shut up about a girl and then you saved us all and asked him out. Otherwise, if you would've looked up Marius Pontmercy you would've found a headstone. We all had bets on when Enjolras was going to take her Taser to his head." He explained.

"To his head?" She asked, skeptical.

"Painless that way, apparently. Honestly, we have no idea it just sounds good." He grinned.

"Well, I'm glad I saved you all in the nick of time." She laughed her chirp of a laugh. "Oh by the way, you are staying for dinner. End of story."

"What am I not allowed to leave?" He laughed.

"Nope." Eponine spooked the crap out of him from behind.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Grantaire shouted.

"Work. I'm staying here this month so I can save on rent and food. Valjean was nice enough to let me stay with Cosette. Also, he doesn't mind the fact that I could kick ass if his daughter were in danger. I have multiple knives on my person and you're welcome to try and find them." Eponine laughed.

"Oh I am not that stupid." Grantaire laughed with her.

"Damn. That would've been fun." Eponine guffawed.

"For you, maybe." Grantaire muttered.

"Yeah for me." Eponine grinned like a cat that caught the canary.

"So not allowed to leave?" Grantaire tried bringing them back.

"Nope. You're stuck with us." Cosette chirped.

"Yep." Eponine said as she sat down on his lap.

"Comfortable?" He groaned sarcastically, surprised at the new weight on his lap.

She then started squashing further into his lap. "Now I am."

"Yeah I walked into that. But seriously, I do have a paper due by noon tomorrow and I still got two more full paragraphs to write. I don't have much time." Grantaire mused.

"You got your laptop with you?" Eponine asked.

"Yeah it's in my backpack." Grantaire shrugged.

"Write it here. You don't have to leave. I'll let you have some of my cake." Cosette tempted.

"Damn woman, you drive a hard bargain but I can never refuse your confectionary goodness." Grantaire accepted.

"Ha! My special ingredient is working!" Cosette laughed maniacally.

"Dear, are you drugging us?" Grantaire frowned.

"Maybe." She drawled out.

"Oh dear. 'Zette, you weren't supposed to tell him!" Eponine snapped playfully.

"I didn't tell him what it was!" Cosette grinned mischievously.

"Didn't tell who what was?" Valjean had returned with the cheese.

"Oh they're just teasing me. Apparently, I'm required at dinner if I want dessert." Grantaire answered.

"Ah yes." Valjean laughed.

"Ep, would you set the table?" Cosette asked.

"Why don't you ask R?" Eponine demanded.

"Because you live here for the month. He is the guest. Work for a living." Cosette shoved her lightly and Eponine groaned but got off of him and did as Cosette asked.

Dinner was a hilarious affair. Eponine and Cosette bounced off each other about their days, Valjean kept them in stitches with a wonderful story about the gardening store, and Grantaire mostly talked about the scared kids in his art class since they were going to be going nude soon.

"Will you need a model?" Eponine asked, slightly hopeful. Art models usually got paid and though it's not a steady job it was a nice boost.

"I'm not sure. My professor didn't really say that. He was more trying to quell the babies who started freaking out at the word nude." Grantaire shrugged.

"Well I wouldn't call them babies-" Valjean started.

"Well, it's just the professor said that we would do this on the first day and it's not a requirement for my major, there is another option for the credits so yeah they're babies." Grantaire finished.

"I understand." Valjean nodded.

"Man, I hate people like that. Just take another class, dipshits." Eponine muttered.

"Well, maybe they thought they could handle it." Cosette tried, always looking on the bright side.

"About the model thing, you'll need to ask the professor about that." Grantaire tried bringing them back.

"I will. Thanks." Eponine nodded.

"I'll put in a good word for you." Grantaire said.

Eponine smiled. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick email to his professor.

"Okay, to the living room." Valjean announced, obviously this was a part of their nightly routine but he was saying it out loud for Grantaire's benefit.

"Do you have class tomorrow?" Cosette asked.

"Not until two but I'm not done until the meeting and then I gotta go home. I got a project I gotta work on." Grantaire answered.

"Aw. I wanted to take you shopping with us." Cosette pouted.

"We could before your class." Eponine suggested.

"Sorry, my dear, but I still gotta turn this paper in by noon. Physical copy." Grantaire shrugged.

"Aw." Eponine and Cosette shared pouting at him.

"Even if I didn't have to, I usually have work from nine to one. I got tomorrow off." Grantaire mused.

Their pouts deepened.

"Look on the bright side. You two can still go shopping." Grantaire tried.

"Yeah but you need boyfriend clothes." Cosette sighed.

"Boyfriend clothes?" Grantaire frowned.

"Yeah. Clothes to go out on dates on. Clothes for being a boyfriend." Cosette explained.

"I have those clothes." Grantaire dismissed.

"That don't have paint on them?" Cosette countered.

He looked down and saw several splashes of paint across his jeans and shirt.

"Well, Enjolras likes them. At least, I think she does." Grantaire protested.

"Well, if she doesn't, we're taking you shopping." Eponine interrupted.

Cosette pouted but nodded.

"'Zette, you just want any excuse to go shopping." Eponine chastised.

Cosette said nothing, which just sealed her fate.

"Cosette, this was really good. Thanks." Grantaire tried.

"Oh it's real easy to make. I'll give you the recipe." Cosette smiled.

He returned it. "So cake now?"

"What? Are you in a hurry?" Cosette teased. "Oh wait. You are."

"As long as I get my paper done, I'm fine." He assured her.

Cosette nodded and headed into the kitchen to finish the cake.

"Well, how many more pages you got?" Eponine asked.

"Word count. I've got about 2500 words to go. I mean I've got most of it planned, I just need to write it." Grantaire corrected.

"Cool." Eponine nodded.

"Okay cake now!" Cosette brought in a huge cake slathered in chocolate icing.

"Ooh! Chocolate." Eponine licked her lips.

"Of course. Can't have a chocolate cake without chocolate icing. To do otherwise is sacrilege." Cosette informed them.

He knowingly kept quiet that he loved a good slice of chocolate cake with strawberry icing.

As per usual, Cosette's cake was unbelievably good. Light yet rich and the icing was to die for. Thankfully, Cosette promised to give him a good portion of the cake to take home. He nearly kissed her. Once coffee and dessert were finished, Valjean retired, citing that it had been a long day and Grantaire pulled out his laptop. He started finishing up his paper.

"Whatcha writing about?" Eponine asked, sticking her face next to his laptop.

"13th century art. How the paintings and tapestries are now considered obsolete at best and offensive at worst and why." Grantaire frowned.

"How's that coming?" Eponine inquired.

"It'd be better if you just let me write this. I'd finish faster and then screw around with you." Grantaire said.

"But what about me?" Cosette joined them on his other side.

"You too." Grantaire amended.

"So how much do you have left?" Cosette chirped.

"I'm not getting this done now, am I?" Grantaire sighed.

"Nope." They said together.

"Otherwise, I have to go home." Grantaire frowned.

Cosette sighed. "I'll go pack your cake for you. I know papers are important and I don't want to make you lose points."

He hugged his girls tightly before saying goodbye. When he got home, he immediately put his cake in the fridge so he didn't lose any of it.

**Cosette**: Do you think Enjolras likes chocolate?

**Grantaire**: Why do you ask?

**Cosette**: When she wakes up, I'm making several cakes to celebrate. Does she like chocolate?

**Grantaire**: I don't think she'll be able to eat solid food for a while.

**Cosette**: Oh.

**Cosette**: But does she like chocolate?

**Grantaire**: Yes, but I think she prefers red velvet. She likes plain flavors.

**Cosette**: Got it. What about yellow? Or does she prefer lemon?

**Grantaire**: I think she likes both. Why don't you ask Combeferre? He lives with her.

**Cosette**: I did. He sent me back an auto-reply to talk to you about everything.

**Grantaire**: What do you mean?

**Cosette**: FWD: AUTO-REPLY As I am no longer relevant to any conversations not involving Enjolras's health, please contact Grantaire as he seems to be my replacement. If this concerns Courfeyrac, please state so in another text. Goodbye.

**Cosette**: See what I mean?

**Grantaire**: Yeah. I'll call him tonight and leave another message.

**Cosette**: Why is he ignoring us?

**Grantaire**: He's struggling and right now, he doesn't realize we're trying to help. But he'll come around.

**Cosette**: Okay. Please call him. I'm starting to get worried.

**Grantaire**: I will.

So he did. As always, he got Combeferre's voicemail.

"Hello, this is Etienne Combeferre. I'm not available at the moment so please leave your name, number and cause at the beep."

"Hey, Combeferre, it's me again. Um, I'm just calling to say that you don't need that auto-reply. I'm not your replacement. I'm just subbing while you're watching over our chief. And I know I hurt you and when you're ready, I've got an apology for you. And some cake if I don't eat it all first. But until then, I guess I'll give you your space. I love you, Combeferre. You're a great friend. Watch over our girl. I trust you."

He sighed and finished his paper. He wished he had never met these people. Combeferre wouldn't be mad at everyone, Courfeyrac would never have done this, Jehan would've not had the temptation and Enjolras wouldn't be dying. God, that hurt. Even in the week since he last saw Combeferre, Enjolras was barely doing better, if it all. Honestly, he couldn't tell from the medical jargon. He decided to text Joly and see if he could explain it.

**Grantaire**: Hey Joly, I had a question. About Enjolras.

**Joly**: Shoot.

**Grantaire**: What did the doctor mean by… well everything she said? I still don't get it.

**Joly**: Boiled down, this is what's happening is the infection is trying to destroy her body like any virus would, like if she caught cold. The antibiotics are going to help eliminate this. However, it's not that easy. Her immune system and her heart are weak because of the gunshot wound and when someone's heart is weak, that just leads to all other problems. Her body is a warzone and honestly, she's losing the battle. That doesn't mean she'll lose the war but it doesn't look good.

**Grantaire**: But this is Enjolras, right? She won't die, right?

**Joly**: Honestly, I don't know. But if I know Enjolras, she won't give up without kicking and screaming and fighting til the very end. I cannot believe that this will kill her.

**Grantaire**: Promise?

**Joly**: I promise. Don't worry. I'll translate the doctors for you when she gets better too.

**Grantaire**: Joly, do you think Enjolras minds that I only have paint splattered clothes?

**Joly**: I don't think she notices.

**Grantaire**: Maybe I should ask 'Chetta.

**Joly**: I've got her right here.

**Joly**: It's Enjolras. I doubt she minds. Why do you ask?

**Grantaire**: Something Cosette said. Apparently, I need boyfriend clothes.

**Joly**: Honestly, honey, I think you just need to be yourself. That's who Enjolras wants. Not someone who needs to change his clothes when they're going on an impromptu date.

**Grantaire**: Thanks.

**Joly**: Feeling self-conscious?

**Grantaire**: I don't think Cosette meant to do that.

**Joly**: Well, of course not honey. She was trying to help.

**Grantaire**: I know. It's just me.

**Joly**: Don't worry dear. If she had minded the paint, she would've said something. It's Enjolras. It's not like she's ever kept quiet about anything she didn't like.

**Grantaire**: That's true. Thanks, 'Chetta. Sorry it's so late. I know you gotta get to sleep.

**Joly**: Darling, it's fine. It's not like I was asleep or anything.

**Grantaire**: Well, I'll let you get some. Good night.

**Joly**: Night from both of us.

He threw his phone onto his nightstand and brought out an old piece he had started before this whole mess. Enjolras inspired Michael the archangel asking for forgiveness and meaning covered in blood. Fuck. It didn't really look like her yet but in his mind, he could see enough. It was too much to see her like that. He was trapped, in a suffocating cage of canvas he'd just built for himself. However, art has always been his escape. He may have created his cage but he knew he could get out of it. He splashed red paint on it and started to paint over his sketch. He allowed the sketch to retain its shape and brushed the paint over it almost violently. The red paint turned to blood as his pain bled out through his painting and he allowed his fear to turn the painting from red to something much more incredible. Blue for sadness, turned the red of anger into purple for fear. He painted little strokes of white to show what little purity still was left but he tainted a few to show how it was going out. When he got done, he stepped back. Enjolras's eyes he had finished first before and now they shone out with fear and pain and he felt himself choke. He hadn't done her eyes justice at all! Her eyes were perfect, he could use a million different cheesy romance novel euphemisms to describe her eyes and none of it would be enough. But for now, he needed to sleep. Otherwise, he was of no use to his amazing friends. And he had to be of use. He had to pay them back for what he did to them. The stress, the fear, making them watch their friend die… he had to repay them somehow. He owed his friends. And he never left a debt unpaid, especially to those he cared about.

So he put his canvass and paints away, well as away as they ever got in his apartment, and he poured himself a quick glass of water and downed it when he realized how bad his thirst was. He hadn't taken a drink since Cosette's place. And he surprised himself at how long he'd gone without a drink, an alcoholic drink. Enjolras would be proud. He knew it wouldn't last but for now he would take it. So deciding to just go to bed, he looked at the clock to see when he should wake up tomorrow. Fuck! It was past three in the morning. He really had to get to bed. But then his phone buzzed. It had been buzzing since two seventeen.

**Combeferre**: Thanks.

**Grantaire**: Do you still need space or do you want to do this now?

**Combeferre**: What the fuck are you doing up? It's like three in the morning.

**Combeferre**: Wait did my text wake you?

**Grantaire**: No. I was already up.

**Combeferre**: It's super late. Why?

**Grantaire**: Art project.

**Combeferre**: Got it. And I'm not doing this at three o'clock in the morning. I just wanted to thank you for your message.

**Grantaire**: You're welcome.

**Combeferre**: Are you coming to visit her today?

**Grantaire**: Yes. I'm coming before class. Probably around nine. I got a paper due by noon.

**Grantaire**: Well, actually, I could run over to the school, turn it in and then come over and stay through lunch.

**Grantaire**: Yeah I'm going to do that.

**Combeferre**: Okay. I'll be waiting. We have a lot to talk about.

Grantaire smiled broadly. He hoped he had reached out in time to save their relationship. He would truly miss Combeferre as a friend and he didn't want to lose him. So he put his phone back on his nightstand and got ready for bed. He had just climbed into bed when his phone went off again.

**Combeferre**: You still up?

**Grantaire**: Yeah, I'm still up. Something happen?

**Combeferre**: You oughta get down here. Something's just happened.

* * *

**Hey guys! I'm back! So school sucks, I've got a cold, and my friends are the best people in the world. So it seems just like every other year at college. Nothing new. Well, hope you like this next chapter. Review if you can. I appreciate it so much.**


	16. Chapter 16

He was at the hospital in ten minutes, thankfully there wasn't much traffic at three a.m. He met Combeferre in the waiting room.

"Her parents are with her now." Combeferre announced.

"Is it that bad?" Grantaire asked, fear coursing through his veins.

"No! No, it's good. She woke up for about ten seconds. She… well she tried to say something but it came out as gibberish. I'm not sure if it's because of the tube or because her mind couldn't form what she wanted but it's a start." Combeferre grinned.

"She woke up?" It was like he'd never experienced relief before. He'd never felt so good.

"She woke up. Not for long but… I think she's getting better." Combeferre smiled brilliantly.

Grantaire laughed and hugged Combeferre tightly. Combeferre hugged him back. When they finally pulled back, Combeferre was crying.

"I don't think I've ever been so happy in my life." Combeferre wiped away his tears furiously but still grinning.

"Should we call the others?" Grantaire inquired, feeling tears of joy coming on himself.

"It's really early. We'll text them at like six." Combeferre answered and they both laughed.

"Can I see her?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah but later. Her parents gotta come down first. I don't want to interrupt them." Combeferre replied.

Grantaire nodded. "Oh she's okay! She's okay!"

"She's not okay yet. The infection is still pretty bad and she's still very, very weak. But like I said, it's a start." Combeferre corrected him.

"No. She's going to be okay. I know she is." Grantaire stated with absolute confidence. He'd never been so confident about anything ever. Well, maybe one thing but that didn't count.

"It's her. Nothing can stop her." Combeferre nodded.

He took a swig from the flask he'd brought, thinking he'd need it if Enjolras died, as Monsieur and Madame Enjolras walked down. He embraced Madame Enjolras and she hugged him back. Monsieur Enjolras clapped him on the shoulder when he pulled away.

"We're going to head up and see her." Combeferre announced.

"Nikolas, wait one minute. There's something I want to tell you." Annette said.

He nodded and walked next to her for a bit.

"I wasn't going to tell you this while she was dying but since she seems to be a little more on the mend, I am going to tell you. She has a huge crush on you." Annette stated.

Grantaire was floored. What was he supposed to say? I'm dating your daughter? You met me once and I've already had sex with her? I love your daughter more than life itself?

"It's okay. Let that sink in. I just wanted to tell you because you seem like a nice young man-" He stealthily tried hiding the flask in his back pocket, "And she really does like you."

"How can you tell?" Grantaire managed to say.

"Because she brought you home. Even though she loves Etienne dearly, she's never brought him home. For any reason. And yet she brought you. And the way she talked about you, well, let's just say a mother knows." Annette smiled.

"She talked about me?" Grantaire frowned. She didn't really set him up as a great guy when she was at their house.

"Oh yes. She talks about you all the time in our weekly talks." Annette nodded.

Grantaire frowned.

"Oh. We talk for half an hour each week. That's all the time we can squeeze together." Annette explained.

"I see." Grantaire said, unsure as what to do now.

"Hey, Taire, you wanna take first shift? Unless I eat something, I'm in really deep sh-trouble." Combeferre corrected at the last second.

He nodded.

Combeferre clapped him on the back. "You want anything?"

"Coffee would be nice. I didn't bring any with me." Grantaire reached for his wallet but Combeferre held up a hand.

"It's not like coffee's that expensive, let me treat you." Combeferre smiled, but he knew Combeferre well enough to know that he was doing this for Enjolras's parents.

"Thanks." Grantaire headed up to Enjolras's room and sat down on one of the chairs.

"Hey, Apollo. I think I'm allowed to call you that again since he is the god of medicine and you're finally starting to get better. God, I hope you're starting to get better. I miss you. Like a lot. We all do. Don't worry, Apollo. I got it taken care of. I'm making sure that everyone feels okay. I mean, I've been feeling kind of shitty lately but that's because it's hard. Combeferre has a hard job. Never really noticed that before. Should've. But Joly just did well on an exam, Eponine is living over at Cosette's and I'm not sure but I've got a pretty good feeling that Valjean is just going to adopt her. Courfeyrac… well I'm sure you've heard about him. But the doctors say that he could be coming home soon. So we're glad about that. Oh! Musichetta's baby cousin hit a home run. She was proud of that. Oh fuck. I don't know what to say. Um, oh I was over at the girl's place tonight. Brought home cake. They're okay. Cosette is… you'd really be proud of her. She's working with the police but I think you'd look past that. We really miss you. But today's going to be okay. I've got a paper to turn in. That's not for a while though. I can stay with you. Got class too. It's going to be interesting. I wish I could bring you along. You'd like it. It's all about freeing your body and stuff you enjoy. I don't know if I'll enjoy it that much, but if the model if Ep like I hope it'll be I'll get a kick out of that. We've got a meeting tonight. Oh shit. Our leaders are gone. And I certainly can't lead the meeting."

"I will." Combeferre said, spooking him. Sorry."

He waved Combeferre off and accepted the coffee and saw the tuna fish sandwich in his hands. He was glad, Combeferre looked gaunt and he'd definitely dropped a few pounds.

"You said you'll lead the meeting?" Grantaire prompted after Combeferre had inhaled his food. Probably the only food he'd had all day.

"Yeah. I think she'd kill me if I stayed in here any longer." Combeferre huffed affectionately, staring at Enjolras with a fond smile.

Grantaire leaned over and hugged him tightly.

"I'm glad. You could use the fresh air." Grantaire said after releasing him.

"You're not the first one to say that to me today." Combeferre laughed breathily.

"I'm not?" Grantaire asked, surprised.

"No. Eponine stopped by around nine and gave me a- uh very stern talking to. She finally left around one forty-five and then I thought for a bit and then I texted you. She was right in a lot of ways and I appreciated the voicemail. I don't know how she knew we weren't speaking to each other though, I know you wouldn't have told anyone." Combeferre answered.

"Ep? I was just hanging with her and Cosette. After talking to Marius, who gave me the advice on how to talk to you. Well, lesson learned. If you're going to tell Marius something on the down low, expect him to tell Cosette who'll tell Eponine. They really are something. They remind me so much of you, Enjolras and Courfeyrac. I'm glad they have each other though." Grantaire mused.

"I think we could stand to learn a little something from them, huh? They came together because of Marius and now they're inseparable." Combeferre inquired lightly.

"You mean we shouldn't be torn apart because we both love her." Grantaire summed up.

"I guess not." Combeferre sighed.

"Look, I can't take back what I said but I can explain it." Grantaire tried.

"Shut up." Combeferre hissed. "I don't want to hear this now. You know, I still can't believe you said that."

"Neither can I. Wait, which part?" Grantaire asked.

Combeferre glared at him.

"It's a valid question." Grantaire defended.

"Replacing me." Combeferre said through clenched teeth.

"No. What I meant was I am simply filling in for you." Grantaire started.

"No, that's not what you meant. I know what you meant. Now you're just doing damage control." Combeferre interrupted scathingly.

Grantaire didn't respond.

"You should go." Combeferre said, and Grantaire slumped knowing that he'd just ruined whatever goodness Enjolras had brought.

"No, I mean you have a paper due in the morning apparently, and I don't want you to miss that. And you need sleep, since you've got class on a Friday." Combeferre rushed to explain.

"Oh. Oh right. Right. But you need sleep too. On a real bed. Enough with this cot nonsense. I get that you want to be close to her but I think you're pushing it. You're kind of borderline obsessive at this point." Grantaire stated.

"I can't go home." Combeferre shook his head.

"You have to go home. You have to eventually face what happened. You cannot live like this. No matter what you think, I am and always shall be your friend and I will not let you die. Come on. You say Eponine smacked some sense into you so listen to her! Otherwise, I'm calling her right now and saying it was wasted." Grantaire threatened, though he had no intention of following through. Eponine was not good when she first woke up and when no one listened to her she had no problems waving her boot knife.

Combeferre paled at Grantaire's very serious face, "You wouldn't."

"I'll just tell her that it's your fault I had to wake her up." Grantaire added.

"Fine. I'll go home." Combeferre sighed, defeated.

"Thank you. Do you want me to stay with you?" Grantaire asked.

"No. I can manage. I might not get much sleep but I'll manage." Combeferre shook his head.

"Do you want to stay at my place?" Grantaire offered but he hoped Combeferre would turn him down. It's time Combeferre got back to his own life.

"No. Thank you. I'll be all right." Combeferre smiled gently. "I guess it's funny. Even a guide needs a guide sometimes."

"You're only human. I can't expect you to be perfect. Text me when you get home." Grantaire assured him.

Combeferre nodded and then he did something that surprised him. He leaned over and kissed Grantaire's hair.

"I just want you to know that I don't hate you. I never hated you. I was jealous, and hurt. And I was terrified she was going to die because of your bitch sister. You were an easy target." Combeferre said solemnly.

Grantaire nodded, knowing four in the morning was not the best time to be doing this.

"Boys?" A nurse popped her head in.

"We were leaving. Just saying goodbye." Grantaire answered her.

She nodded and they headed out. Grantaire hugged him again and Combeferre returned it. It wasn't much but it was a start. He walked Combeferre to his car before heading home himself. As he was parking, his phone received a text.

**Combeferre**: Home safe. Smells weird.

**Grantaire**: That's what dust smells like.

**Combeferre**: I'll fix that tomorrow. The food is seriously knocking me out.

**Grantaire**: Sleep. I'll text you later.

He didn't receive an answer back. So he just set his alarm so he could make sure he turned his paper in on time and fell onto his bed and was asleep almost instantly. For the first time in a long time, he had pretty pleasant dreams.

His alarm woke him at ten and he printed his paper and headed over to school. He started calling everyone about Enjolras before he sauntered over to class.

Class was interesting. The model wasn't Eponine, but when he asked his professor said that Eponine had been taken up by another professor. So thankfully that was a bit more money in Eponine's pocket. The model was male, and he saw at least three girls getting uncomfortable. He rolled his eyes and focused on doing his assignment. Time seemed to pass quickly as painting was his favorite thing to do and the model was wonderfully proportioned for his piece.

"All right, everybody, that's it for today. Wash your brushes, put your easels and your canvasses back in the cupboard. If you're finished, let me know." His professor ended and he started putting his stuff away before seeing he had a text from Jehan.

**Jehan**: Taire?

**Grantaire**: I'm here.

**Jehan**: Is the meeting still on?

**Grantaire**: Yeah, it's still on. Combeferre is leading it.

**Jehan**: Really? Oh I'm glad. I know he's been skipping class. He needs to get away.

**Grantaire**: Well, I hope he shows up. He feels bad about snapping at everybody. One of the things I wanted to do tonight was give him the cards we made him when we were making Courfeyrac's decorations. Who ended up with those?

**Jehan**: Um, I think Musichetta did. Or maybe it was Feuilly. Text them.

**Grantaire**: I will.

**To Musichetta/Feuilly**: Who ended up with the cards for Combeferre? If you have them, bring them to the meeting.

**Jehan**: You got class now?

**Grantaire**: Nah. I'm heading over to the Musain.

**Jehan**: I'll meet you there.

**Feuilly**: I have them. I'll send Bahorel to pick them up.

**Grantaire**: Thanks.

**Feuilly**: So the meeting's still on?

**Grantaire**: Should I send out a mass text that it is?

**Feuilly**: Yes.

**To Musichetta/Bousset/Joly/Marius/Cosette/Eponine/Bahorel/Feuilly/Jehan**: The meeting is still on. Same time, same place. Nothing has changed.

He got a chorus of replies before driving over to the Musain. Jehan had beaten him there. He had already gotten the back room as ready as could be. Granted, it always stayed this way but the people who owned the Musain had other things in the room too. He picked up the complimentary water and asked for the wine. The owner, Madame Huchloup, understood that Enjolras had the university club charge card and just accepted his promise that she would get paid later. She was really nice that way.

Marius, Cosette and Eponine arrived about ten minutes later. Musichetta, Bousset and Joly followed right behind. Feuilly arrived before Combeferre and Bahorel came in late carrying two boxes, probably because he had to stop by Feuilly's apartment.

Combeferre then called for everyone's attention.

"All right. Now that we're all here, I know that Grantaire and I have been calling everyone but in case we missed anyone, I'll announce it now. Enjolras woke up for about ten seconds, but she did wake up and she's starting to get better. So be hopeful. It's starting to look a little better." Combeferre announced.

"All right. So we'll begin with our new weekly announcements and it seems Jehan wants to go first. Take it away, Jehan." Combeferre handed the mantle to him.

"Okay, so when Courfeyrac was in surgery, we were making his cards for him to know that we all love him and we don't blame him for what happened and stuff. So we didn't just make them for him. We made some for you, Combeferre, and we'd like to present them to you now." Jehan smiled, but his smile hesitated.

Combeferre had no expression. Grantaire couldn't tell if he was angry or sad but something was going on. Bahorel handed him the boxes and Combeferre pulled out one card and then put it down. He then picked up the boxes and started walking out.

"'Ferre?" Combeferre ignored him. "Combeferre!"

He ran out after him and caught up with him at Combeferre's car.

"Hey, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We were just trying to remind you that we love you. If we went too far, I'm sorry." Grantaire said, trying desperately to reach his friend.

Combeferre said nothing.

Grantaire tried to put his hand on Combeferre's shoulder but Combeferre almost violently threw him off and then got into his car.

"Text me when you get home?" He called out, unsure if Combeferre heard him or even wanted to hear him.

He sighed. Great. He knew he'd just fucked up his relationship with a wonderful friend and it was all his fault. He took a long drink from his flask. But he knew he had his other friends to attend to. They needed him too. So he headed back inside.

Everyone was staring at him.

"I don't know. I thought he would like this. He… he must not have. He took them with him though so maybe he'll read them and know that sometimes he needs personal time. Or maybe he just wasn't ready to lead the meeting yet. I don't know. Um, does anyone have any event or protest to talk about?" Grantaire shrugged, unsure how to lead a meeting.

The only answer he got was no.

"Okay. I guess the official part of the meeting is over. Anybody have homework they need help with?" Grantaire asked.

Marius slowly raised his hand, turning pink.

"Okay. Don't feel bad, that's what we're here for. What kind is it?" Grantaire assuaged, heading over to his friend.

"Math." Marius squeaked.

"Fuck. I'm shit at math. Who's good at math?" Grantaire announced.

"Combeferre." Bahorel snorted.

Everyone went silent.

"Here, Marius, I can try to help you." Joly smiled and brought Marius over to a table.

Grantaire sighed again and finished his flask. As he was filling it back up again with the complimentary wine, a knock sounded. Annette and Sebastien were at the door.

"Hello, everyone. Etienne told us that you all would be gathered here tonight. We'd like to get to know you, more than what Julia has told us. Now that she's getting better, I think we can divert a little time to getting to know you." Annette smiled a bit shyly.

"Sure. I think we'd all like to get to know you too." Grantaire plastered a smile onto his face. Everyone else took up the same.

"So, what do you all do? I like to hear what you all think of yourselves, not just what Julia says." Sebastien asked.

"Well, we are a group of people dedicated to changing the world for the people who don't have rights but should." Musichetta summed up.

"And we also talk about oppression of minorities, and we go to protests in order to bring things to attention." Cosette chirped.

Oh shit. They all think that Enjolras's parents believed the same as she did.

"But we're not just about that. We also get people to register to vote, democrat or republican, and we try to bring things to discussion. We recognize that not everybody is going to agree with us and we at least want people to think about what we're discussing. And we also are a club, I suppose at heart, because we are here for people to make friends and to find a safe space." Grantaire added, trying to reign in the blatant liberalness of the group.

Sebastien nodded, seeming to approve after Grantaire spoke.

"And does this contribute to class credit? Or is it an extracurricular?" Annette inquired.

"Extracurricular. However, we do get some teachers who give extra credit for going to events we put on so that's a nice perk." Feuilly answered.

"I see. And I know Nikolas is an art major, but I think there are other law majors here?" Sebastien tried.

Bahorel and Bousset raised their hands. Joly raised Marius's hand for him. "There's another, Courfeyrac, but he's not here right now." Bahorel said.

"Yes, the boy in the hospital." Sebastien looked uncomfortable.

"Etienne and I are med students." Joly added, seeing that obviously and trying to change the subject.

"I'm double majoring in women's studies and neurology." Cosette said next.

"I'm social work." Eponine specified.

"I'm in human development." Musichetta stated.

"I'm a fine arts major." Feuilly smiled.

"I'm literature and writing, emphasis on writing." Jehan chirped.

"You all seem so wonderful. I'm glad she has so many friends." Annette smiled.

"Trust me. We're all here for many reasons. You won't find one person in here who doesn't have a story about how Enjolras helped us, and that's a big reason of why we stay. We wouldn't be who we are without her, in some way. She changes people with her speeches. She's a very powerful presence. We'd be nothing without her." Grantaire replied.

"Yeah, I mean, I remember when she flat out took down Professor Jibson." Bahorel laughed.

"Took down?" Sebastien frowned.

"He means verbally knocked him down a peg. There a student last year who undocumented parents and he had verbally abused her until she came to Enj-Julia and she escorted her to class and unleashed verbal hell." Feuilly grinned.

"She wasn't leeching off the system, she was paying for her own classes, she shouldn't have to deal with horrible professors because of her parents' immigration status." Grantaire tried to salvage it.

"She could've been on a scholarship, it wouldn't have mattered. She was a citizen of this country and more importantly, she deserves respect because she's a human being. Enjolras just reminded him of that." Eponine snapped.

"Yeah. I mean, he was very problematic in other ways too. So Enjolras exposed his huge faults to the faculty and if he wanted to keep his job, he had to clean up his act. People earned the ability to come here and they should be treated like mature adults." Cosette added.

"I understand." Sebastien said, looking like he'd wished he'd never brought it up.

"You taught her well, Monsieur." Musichetta smiled.

He nodded sharply.

"You know, she's in one of my classes and she does incredibly well. It's a privilege to share classes with her." Bahorel changed the subject. Sebastien and Annette's uncomfortableness was extremely visible.

"Thank you. I'm sorry. You must think we're horrible parents. It's not that we're not proud of her, it's just this is the first time we're hearing about things like this. She knows this isn't the professional young lady we thought we raised." Annette grimaced.

"Oh no, she's totally professional! She helped me when I was building my resume!" Cosette tried.

"Yeah, and she always sends thank-you cards and writes good emails to professors!" Marius added.

"That's not what I meant." Annette muttered.

"Oh! Someone write this down! I just remembered, someone's gotta ask Professor Muriel, the religious studies professor, about becoming our new faculty advisor. She said he was first on the list to replace Larmarque." Grantaire remembered rather loudly.

Sebastien puffed up a bit at the mention of religious studies. It seemed that was one subject he approved of.

"Really? I thought he'd be too religious for her." Marius asked bluntly.

"No, he's religious but he gets that other people aren't and that's to be respected. Also, he thinks that no religion is better than any other one so I can see why she'd choose him." Bousset explained, knowing as he'd enrolled in a religious studies class with said professor accidentally.

"I go by his office on my way to work. I'll ask for Enjolras." Eponine offered.

Grantaire nodded and took a swig from his flask.

"Do you always drink from a flask?" Sebastien asked disdainfully.

"No. This is just cheaper than buying wine here." Grantaire replied, but he thought he answered too quickly for Sebastien's liking as that derisive expression didn't leave.

He felt like sinking into the floor. He had chances to impress her parents and every time he had to go and fuck it up. He'd bet that once Monsieur Enjolras found out he liked his daughter, he'd never be allowed around Enjolras again. Musichetta must've noticed how awkward he was feeling as she asked to see him about helping her.

"What do you need?" He asked.

"I just figured you needed to get away for a minute. How's the interrogation?" Musichetta handed him some water.

"Oh I don't think the interrogation has started actually." He murmured, ever-so-slightly terrified.

She nodded. "You wanna pop by later? Joly's working at the hospital and Bousset is going to a study group. It'll just be you and me."

"Oh are we having an affair now?" He asked, amused.

"I thought we'd been doing that for a little while now." She pouted, clearly teasing.

He laughed. "Sure. But I can't stay long. I got an art project to finish."

"For school or for the gallery?" She inquired.

"The gallery. If I'm lucky, I'll get a few thousand for it." He sighed.

"You're worth more but all right. Go home and finish it. When it's done, come by." Musichetta commanded softly.

He nodded and headed back over to Enjolras's parents. "I'm going to head home to finish a project I've been working on. If you need me, you have my number."

"Oh yes. Etienne was nice enough to give that to us. We'll call you if anything changes." Annette promised.

He nodded again and headed home. The gallery liked paintings that looked like pictures so he had decided to paint the picture he had of Enjolras sleeping on his chest. It was sweet, innocent and still sexy in a way. He'd gotten the sketch perfect, as perfect as he got painting Enjolras and he started filling the lines in- wait. Maybe this would be better in charcoal.

**Eponine**: Where'd you go?

**Grantaire**: Home. Working on painting to sell.

**Eponine**: Aw, okay. Am I bothering you?

**Grantaire**: No, I'm torn between paint like a picture and charcoal.

**Eponine**: What are you painting?

**Grantaire**: Enjolras.

**Eponine**: Aw.

**Eponine**: Please remind me why I shouldn't kill Enjolras's parents.

**Grantaire**: What happened?

**Eponine**: Jehan told them that he'd gotten a huge scholarship because of his amazing poetry and her father essentially told him scholarships were useless and they shouldn't be given out for such 'low subjects' like poetry. Jehan was almost in tears.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, as much as the curls would let him. Jehan was not in a place for this kind of stress about his future. Sometimes, he really hated her parents.

**Grantaire**: Tell Jehan that they just don't understand since they've been rich all their lives. Scholarships never entered their minds. I mean, they pay for Enjolras's education, apartment, food, car and gas, without any help whatsoever.

**Eponine**: Cosette's with him. Cosette and he are always good together.

**Grantaire**: Do you need me to come over?

**Eponine**: No, you got money to make. Cosette's got this. I'll probably spend the night with him.

**Grantaire**: Good. Someone should.

**Eponine**: All right. I'll tell everyone not to bother you. You're working. We'll fill you in tomorrow.

Grantaire went back to his art, frowning. He tried to measure each and see it in his mind when his phone buzzed again.

**Eponine**: Feuilly says that you should go with the charcoal. Exotic or something.

**Grantaire**: He means I don't use it often.

**Eponine**: Whatever. Night.

**Grantaire**: Night.

Since Feuilly was pretty amazing with art, he decided to follow his advice. He unpacked his charcoal supplies and started tracing the lines of the sketch. He wasn't sure how long he spent, just tracing and shading and creating shadows. But once he finished, he scrubbed the ash off his arms and hands before admiring the piece. Yeah, he was glad he decided to follow Feuilly's advice.

**Grantaire**: You are so getting free lunch for a week.

**Feuilly**: As much as I love free stuff, I can't accept that. It was just a little idea. I don't even know what exactly your painting.

**Grantaire**: [Enclosed Picture Message]

**Feuilly**: God, that's gorgeous. You should ask a lot for that.

**Grantaire**: Well, I'll see if they want it first.

**Feuilly**: Fair enough.

**Grantaire**: Not kidding. Will be buying lunch for you.

**Feuilly**: Not until you sell it, okay?

**Grantaire**: Fair enough.

**Feuilly**: Get some sleep. I can tell you're exhausted.

Grantaire smiled. That was just like Feuilly. To be the one who never had enough money, was constantly stressed about getting evicted/fired, who never had enough time to get enough sleep was the one who worried about everyone.

**Grantaire**: Have to pop over to see Musichetta but I'll get to bed early tonight I promise.

**Feuilly**: Thanks. Good night.

He called the gallery and left a message that he had a finished product ready to sell. He texted Musichetta who said she was home and ready to work her magic. Then he grabbed his keys and drove over to Musichetta's.

"Hey." He called and Musichetta called him into the master bedroom.

She smiled at him. "Did you hear about poor Jehan?"

"Ep told me. I wish I'd been there for him." He nodded, sighing tiredly.

"Do you trust me?" She asked suddenly.

"Yes." He answered immediately.

"You have work tomorrow?" She inquired.

He shook his head. "I still got about a week left of leave."

"Okay good. Take off your shirt and lie down on the bed." She ordered gently.

He did as she asked, unsure but he did trust her as he said. He heard her put on lotion or something and then her hands were kneading into his back. He fought to keep himself from tensing.

"Too much?" She asked.

"Surprised." He replied. "Where did you learn to massage people?"

"It was an elective I took sophomore year. That's where I met Joly actually. He was trying to get over his hypochondria and it sort of failed miserably but it gave me a chance to see my cute boyfriend completely red." She explained, continuing on.

"That's mean." He groaned into the pillow.

"It's all about pressure. The right pressure on the right part of the muscle." She added.

"I can't believe how much pressure this job is. I can't believe Combeferre has done this for so long without breaking. I can barely handle it for a couple weeks." He started, needing to talk to someone about this. He wasn't strong enough to do it on his own like Combeferre was.

"Don't judge yourself by that. This is most definitely the most serious thing we've ever faced and you can't be expected to handle everything perfectly. Especially since Combeferre's pent up feelings for her are very much getting in the way if him functioning. And don't think I don't know what's been going on between you two. He may love her too but he's loved her for a while and he needs to start functioning again." She started on a really knotted muscle in his lower back.

He grunted in pain, trying to mask the pain as discomfort. "Who- told you he- ugh loved her?"

"Well, sometimes, a mother knows." She chuckled.

Ice flooded through his veins. "Oh my God, are you pregnant? Please tell me you're not pregnant. I mean, if you want kids that's great. But I don't think we could bear caring for a kid. They're loud and annoying and tiny and easily crushable and oh god I'm just making this work you love big families-"

"R! R! Grantaire!" She shouted, finally getting him to shut up.

"What?" He matched her voice.

"I'm not pregnant. I promise. You're sweet to worry though." She calmed him down and kissed his forehead.

"You sure?" He squeaked.

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure I'm not pregnant. But you all are essentially my children and I love you all like I am your mother. Which is how I knew you needed someone to talk to tonight. You're all my little social justice babies who are often childish idiots."

"Okay." Grantaire allowed his heart to slow down.

"Besides, I've known Combeferre loved her since his sophomore year. Especially in the fact that he's never dated anyone else. Kind of in the way I know Courfeyrac and Jehan are mad about one another, they just haven't realized it yet." She added lightly.

"Really?" He sat up, surprised. He never saw Courfeyrac settling down for something monogamous with Jehan.

"Oh yeah. Lay back down."

She continued on with the massage until he was little more than jelly and he felt a good sized weight had been dropped off his shoulders. She easily guided him up and half-walked half-carried him over to the guest bedroom.

"Remember sweetie, whenever you need to be reminded that you're loved, just stop by." She kissed the side of his face.

"I think Combeferre needs it more than I do." He muttered.

"Combeferre's feelings don't invalidate yours. It's not a competition. You are just as worthy of love and friendship as Combeferre is. And if I'm being honest, you're handling this much better than he is and you're doing us a great service by helping us. I mean, I've never heard Combeferre offer to help people with their homework like that. People usually go to him. But you have two different styles of keeping us together. Don't compare yourself to him." She started stroking his hair back.

He hummed in response.

"Go to sleep, honey. I'll make breakfast for you in the morning." She promised.

"Make sure I'm up before nine. If the gallery calls, I want to jump on that before they sell my spot to someone else." He corrected.

"Okay honey." She turned off the light and he dropped off fairly quickly.

_Buzzzzz. Buzzzzz. Buzzzzz._

His pocket was vibrating annoyingly, and he dug his phone out with intent to throw it across the room but he saw the caller ID.

"Hello, Mr. Edwards." He answered, trying to dispel his drowsiness.

"Hello, Mr. Grantaire. I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Edwards asked. He was nice enough as gallery agents went.

"No, I just haven't had my morning coffee. I'm fine." He lied, trying to sound professional.

He put his phone on speaker, while he tried to quickly and quietly put his shirt back on. He wasn't sure when Edwards would want to meet and if he had an opening now, he had to be ready.

"All right then. Well, I got your message from late last night. I've got an opening at three for a viewing and we can discuss if this suits the gallery and if so, price." Edwards said.

"Three sounds wonderful. I'll bring it by." Grantaire agreed, relieved and slowing down.

"Okay. I'll see you then." Edwards hung up. He preferred doing things face to face.

He put the alert into his phone and then put his phone down. A knock sounded.

"Nikolas? It's eight forty-five?" Musichetta called out.

"I'm up. I've already got my meeting set up." He answered back.

"Okay dear. Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes." Musichetta replied.

"Thanks." He went to the kitchen and Joly was cooking. He knew Bousset was not allowed to cook. He was way too unlucky.

"And don't even think about trying to pay us back. Trust me, we've got this covered." Joly snapped, not even turning back to Grantaire, somehow being able to read his mind.

"Fine." He huffed.

"You like crispy bacon?" Joly asked.

"Duh. Who doesn't?" Grantaire asked back.

"I'm just asking. You could be a weirdo who hates crispy bacon." Joly defended.

"Please. I'm fucked up but I'm not that fucked up." Grantaire replied.

"Fuck off and get ready for bacon." Joly snapped.

Breakfast was nice. Joly was a wonderful cook, and Grantaire spent at least five minutes making everyone laugh with his bacon walrus impression. Once breakfast was finished, he loaded the dishwasher because there was no way he wasn't helping in some way.

"All right. I'm going to head over to the hospital. Maybe I can talk to Combeferre and calm him down. Bring him back." Grantaire sighed.

"If not, just tell him to go to class. He's been skipping a lot lately and I can't keep sending him notes forever. Gigi's got a test on Monday and he can't skip it." Joly added.

"Gigi?" Grantaire stopped.

"Oh yeah. She's a cute little five foot two twig whose name is very long. So she says just to call her Gigi." Joly shrugged.

"That's cute. I'll remember that." Grantaire smiled and nodded.

He drove back over to the hospital. Combeferre wasn't there but her mother was.

"Hello." He greeted them. "You're here early."

"I didn't want to leave her for a long time. I get worried about her." Annette gave a watery smile.

He dug out his very abused tiny bag of Kleenex and handed one to her.

"Oh thank you. Sorry. I know we're supposed to be happy but I can't help still worry about her because she's still not awake and championing for something." Annette sniffled.

He smiled at her description. "Yeah, it's still pretty nerve-wracking. If you don't mind me asking-"

"He's working. He likes to get ahead on his projects." Annette finished.

He took her word as she meant it, an end to the conversation.

"I'm going to get some coffee. Would you like some?" Annette asked.

"No thanks. I just came from breakfast, I'm good." He declined.

She nodded and headed out.

He sighed and just listened contently to her steady heartbeat monitor.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

* * *

**Hey everyone. So now it's four in the morning and I have to get up at nine and go to a test I haven't studied for. Welcome to college, where you bid sleep goodbye and procrastination becomes your best friend and worst enemy. Ah, well. Here ya go. Review if you can. I really appreciate it when you do. Thanks, everyone.**


	17. Chapter 17

He waited for an hour for Combeferre to show up. He never did. So Grantaire figured he had to be at home. There didn't seem to be anywhere else he could be at the moment. He waited until Madame Enjolras was in the restroom before he kissed Enjolras's forehead, whispered in her ear that he loved her and stroked her hair for a bit. He didn't want to Madame to see exactly how deep he was already in love with her daughter. He didn't think her parents would approve much. When Madame came back, he excused himself and decided to visit Courfeyrac since he was still in the hospital.

He knocked and waited a bit for Courfeyrac to call 'come in'.

"Hey." Grantaire murmured.

Courfeyrac smiled. "Hey. Good to see you."

"Good to see you to. Any news?" Grantaire asked.

"I'm getting out tomorrow. On an out-patient basis. There's this clinic I think I told you about but with the drugs I'm not sure. So that's nice." Courfeyrac beamed.

"That's fantastic!" Grantaire kissed Courfeyrac's cheek. "Does Marius know?"

"No. I'm not allowed a phone and he always spends Saturday mornings with Cosette. So when he comes by today, I'll tell him." Courfeyrac answered.

"Well, I'm glad you're coming home. I've missed you." Grantaire squeezed Courfeyrac's hand.

Courfeyrac just smiled tiredly.

"Still drowsy?" Grantaire frowned.

"No. Just tired. Didn't sleep well last night." Courfeyrac shook his head.

"What's wrong?" Grantaire asked.

"My parents are also coming home tomorrow. So they've called the hospital and I- I don't want them to see me like this." Courfeyrac admitted.

"They love you." Grantaire started.

"I know they love me. But I don't want my baby sister to see me cooped up in a hospital bed. I'm her hero. She won't understand this." Courfeyrac held up his wrists, which were still bandaged tightly in gauze. He knew they would be for some time. Especially if Courfeyrac didn't want to see his scars.

"How old is she?" Grantaire inquired. He'd heard about Courfeyrac's sister, who was his pride and joy but didn't know that much about her.

"She's thirteen. She'll be fourteen in a couple months." Courfeyrac replied.

"So middle school?" Grantaire clarified.

Courfeyrac nodded.

"I'll bet she's been introduced to it. If not her teachers, your parents." Grantaire tried.

"No. We don't start that until high school and I know my parents don't want to tell her. She's- ugh, she's a- I know! She's a mini-Cosette. That's Adelaide." Courfeyrac struggled.

"That's adorable but I'm sure she could understand. And-" Grantaire tried to go back to the point.

"I don't want her to understand this." Courfeyrac pouted.

"Your family is here to take you at your worst. That's what family does. They take you at your best and they help you when you're at your worst. Your sister will learn eventually, if she hasn't taken the initiative to learn about the mental illness her brother has." Grantaire finished.

Courfeyrac sighed. "I know. I just want to protect her."

"You will. You'll threaten her first boyfriend, and she'll hate you for it, and you'll call her every week after school to get all the dirt on the girls' she's friends with and you'll get the scoop on all the cute boys, or girls, and you will protect her from bullies in the best way that you can. You're her brother. But not telling her about mental illness and telling her that it's okay gives ignorance an opening and she might hide her own illness because her big brother is strong and nothing ever hurts him and she should be more like him." Grantaire promised.

"That sounds like experience." Courfeyrac noticed.

"Sort of. I've seen that with my brothers. Ryan and Riley were close, since they were only a couple years apart in age. Ryan was the big brother and Riley was the cute high schooler. Didn't last long since Riley died when he was seventeen but I got enough of it." Grantaire shrugged, trying to be vague but wanting to show he knew what he was saying.

Courfeyrac nodded and kept quiet for a while. "How did you deal with it?"

"Well, I got unusually lucky with me. When I was suicidal, uh, honestly, I dealt with it by drinking and breaking into my father's room. Which when you're drunk is very hard. But I was in therapy pretty young and when I found out I wasn't broken, it changed my perspective. My therapist helped me recover from the destructive tendencies I'd built for myself and while I'm still an alcoholic, I'm not suicidal anymore." Grantaire explained.

Courfeyrac lay on his bed, mouth agape, eyes wide.

"What? You asked how I dealt with it." Grantaire frowned.

"I meant with your brother. Not you. You were suicidal?" Courfeyrac asked almost frantically.

"When I was much younger, yes. Because I couldn't be who I really was. I was assigned to the wrong sex at birth. My parents didn't recognize that. They still haven't, really. I said some shit but I don't think they'll get it. Anyway, I've never attempted it but when I was twelve, I seriously considered it because I thought I had no other option because I couldn't be who I truly was." Grantaire described, knowing being fully honest was the best option even if it was slightly discomforting.

Courfeyrac sat up rather quickly and threw his arms around him, digging his face into his shoulder. Grantaire hugged him back.

"I'm sorry." Courfeyrac murmured.

"It's okay. Transitioning made my life so much better." Grantaire kissed the side of his head.

"I'm glad. I don't want you to feel this way." Courfeyrac mumbled.

He didn't answer because yes, he still had relapses and would always have relapses but Courfeyrac would understand.

They stayed like that for a minute.

"I'm still sorry." Courfeyrac repeated.

"I know. A very wise man said the saddest people smile the brightest." Grantaire teased, hoping Courfeyrac would understand.

"I said that." Courfeyrac groaned.

"I know. That's why I said wise man." Grantaire teased.

Courfeyrac laughed breathily. "I wouldn't call myself wise. I ended up in here, didn't I?"

"Yeah well, Beyoncé, Charles Baudelaire, Winston Churchill, and Degas also could've ended up in here and we all think they're pretty smart. I mean poetry, painting, politics and we've even got God in here." Grantaire disagreed.

Courfeyrac chuckled. "Beyoncé is God. I didn't know she has depression."

"Post-partum. I totally didn't find that out when I was stalking her Wikipedia page. What, no." Grantaire joked.

Courfeyrac smiled.

"Just because you have depression doesn't mean you're as worthless as you feel." Grantaire pressed.

Courfeyrac didn't meet his eyes.

"It will get better. That's what therapy is for, that's what you're meds are for and that's what we are for. We're here to convince you that you are worth it." Grantaire promised.

Courfeyrac blushed deeply.

"Okay. I'm going a bit too far. I'm sorry." Grantaire sighed and squeezed his hand.

"You got work today?" Courfeyrac asked, trying to change the subject.

"No. I still got a few days of leave left." Grantaire declined.

Courfeyrac nodded.

"I do want to check on Combeferre later on though." Grantaire mused.

"What's wrong with Combeferre?" Courfeyrac pulled back.

"I just want to make sure he got some food. You know." Grantaire lied, shrugging.

Courfeyrac nodded and snuggled back into Grantaire.

"One more thing. Ryan and Riley?" Courfeyrac smirked. Granted, he couldn't see it but he knew Courfeyrac well enough to know that smirk.

"Yeah see, this is why I didn't want to tell you I had siblings. Yes, all my siblings are R Grand R. Rachel, Rémy, Ryan, Riley and René." Grantaire groaned.

Courfeyrac just shook his head. "No. Rachel, Rémy, Ryan, Riley and Nikolas."

Grantaire smiled and kissed his friend again.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" Grantaire sighed.

"I see no reason to bring it up again. You don't like those people just as Julia hates her grandfather." Courfeyrac shrugged.

"How did you know he was her grandfather?" Grantaire demanded.

"Well, when we first asked she got really defensive. So I googled him. Found his son and then googled him and saw enough to know Enjolras was a part of that family. But she doesn't like it so I don't tell her I know." Courfeyrac explained.

"Wow. That sounds much easier than what I went through." Grantaire muttered.

"Probably was. I just got curious. And had access to a computer." Courfeyrac stated.

"I had access to the computer. But not the curiosity." Grantaire admitted.

Courfeyrac nodded. Grantaire kissed him again, admiring his friend's loyalty.

"We're gonna have a lot of kisses to make up for when this is all over." Courfeyrac hummed.

"Well, if Enjolras could repay me for you guys, I wouldn't say no." Grantaire teased.

Courfeyrac popped his head up, kissed Grantaire right on the mouth, and snuggled back down into Grantaire's shoulder.

They stayed that way for a while before Grantaire knew he had to go check on Combeferre. Otherwise, the man was not getting to eat lunch. So he kissed Courfeyrac on the cheek, said goodbye, and drove over to Enjolras and Combeferre's apartment. The door was unlocked, as per usual since the Amis were constantly over at the flat and locking it was essentially useless, and he came in.

"'Ferre?" He called out.

He got no answer.

He opened the door to Combeferre's room and found him sprawled out on his bed, clothes and shoes still on, the cards the Amis had made spread out around him. The room itself was filthy. Since he knew if Combeferre had been feeling better, if the situations were reversed, he'd do the same Grantaire started to pick up the room. He collected the cards and put them on the nightstand, he removed Combeferre's shoes and threw them in the closet, he organized the desk as best as he could and started making him lunch. The entire time Combeferre just slept. When the soup he decided to make was ready, he shook Combeferre awake.

"What are you doing in my room?" Combeferre slurred, still half-asleep.

"I made food. Come on." He gently tapped his arm and Combeferre shuffled to the kitchen.

He waited until after Combeferre had eaten before speaking again.

"I'm sorry about last night. We were just trying to help." Grantaire sighed.

"It wasn't your fault. I just couldn't handle that at the moment. I knew Enjolras's parents were coming and honestly all I did was go home and cry. I wasn't expecting such forgiveness." Combeferre sighed.

"Forgiveness?" Grantaire echoed.

Combeferre nodded. "I thought I'd at least set fire to every bridge I had with these people. I love them all dearly but I- I fucked up. Badly. You took over for me and two of my friends had major crisis and I couldn't even see out of that damn hospital room. I ignored the people who mean the most to me and you all were wonderful to me when I was less than a stranger to you."

Once more, Combeferre's word, Inadequate, seemed to stand out in Grantaire's head.

"Just because you think you're worthless doesn't mean we do." Grantaire said simply.

"I was an ass. I was more than an ass. I was a terrible person, especially to you. You have every right to want to see her and I certainly had no right kicking you out of her room." Combeferre sighed.

"Well, I wasn't exactly an angel. I said some pretty nasty things." Grantaire countered.

"True things." Combeferre muttered.

"No. I was angry and I said things I regret now. I shouldn't have told you about Jehan, actually, I told him I'd keep it a secret and I doubt Marius cares but I still shouldn't have brought him into it. I let my anger get the better of me and I completely forgot about you being my friend." Grantaire shook his head.

"But you were still right. You are not my punching bag. I cannot treat you like a doormat. You are my friend and I should've realized you were also going through hell. You love her as much as I do, if not more." Combeferre said.

"Well, I think you were right in a way. For a long time, I was in love with her stage persona. She's a completely different person. She's kind, gentle, funny, she has a wicked tongue which I'm kind of terrified of, and her eyes are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I've seen some beautiful shit. She's so bright, her smile just makes me wanna kiss her and let her light consume me. I'm sorry. This must be so cruel to you." Grantaire noticed the pained expression on Combeferre's face and remembered Combeferre loved her to.

"It's… hard." Combeferre admitted. "If I'm being honest with myself, I knew she would never choose me. I'm too similar to her. I get carried off with her picture of her utopia and I don't stop her from doing things. You stop her. You improve her arguments. You make her listen to you. You challenge her. I've never seen her like this with any other person. Granted, you're the only person she's ever expressed attraction to so I'm a bit biased about that."

"I don't think anybody has." Grantaire added.

"Regardless, she chose you and she will never choose me. It just hurts." Combeferre confessed.

"Well of course it hurts. You're allowed to be hurt because she chose me over you." Grantaire started.

"But that doesn't give me the right to treat you like shit." Combeferre interjected.

"That's not what I was going to say." Grantaire countered.

"No but that's what you were going to mean." Combeferre responded.

"But you have to let yourself heal. Just obsessing over her lying on a hospital bed doesn't evoke healing. You're going to make yourself worse." Grantaire finished.

"Like you're an expert." Combeferre snorted. "How long have you been in love with her?"

"Long time. But I've had crushes before her. I had a healthy sex life in high school. I've fallen for straight guys. I've fallen for straight girls who won't have anything to do with a tranny." Grantaire explained.

"Don't call yourself that. That'd be like Jehan calling himself a faggot." Combeferre retorted.

"It's… well, it is what it is. Anyway, I do know some semblance of what I'm talking about." Grantaire avoided the topic. He didn't really need a lecture on how he treated himself. Combeferre needed healing right now.

Combeferre nodded. "I'm sorry for the things I said that day. I was wrong to say that you don't love her, I can see it when you look at her. Not when you stare at her during meetings and she's up on the table but when she laughs. You look at her like you're about to laugh with her but you don't. Instead, you just smile, warmly and you just look at her just to enjoy her laughter. You look at her like the way you'd look at a sunrise. Quiet, private and with all the radiance and warmth you can experience in a single moment."

Grantaire swallowed a lump in his throat. Combeferre smiled softly and reached over to hug Grantaire. Grantaire returned it immediately.

"Thank you." Grantaire managed.

After a while, they pulled back.

"I'm sorry for what I said that day too. I was wrong and I'm sorry." Grantaire apologized.

"Thanks." Combeferre let the word hang for a while. "What now?"

"What do you mean?" Grantaire frowned.

"What now? My friends-"

"Still love you and understand you're only human and you've been having a rough time. I'll just text everyone we'll see you tomorrow." Grantaire shrugged.

"Tomorrow?" Combeferre asked.

"Courfeyrac's coming home tomorrow. He is officially not a danger to himself anymore. Marius is probably with him right now and he'll text all of us and we're going to meet up and celebrate. You can talk about it or not. Up to you." Grantaire grinned.

Combeferre returned the smile. "That's fantastic. It'll be so nice having him home here with us."

"Yeah it will. And you know what? It's probably best you didn't stick around last night. Enjolras's father nearly made Jehan cry." Grantaire said.

"Jehan? What on earth for?" Combeferre demanded.

"Apparently, he wasn't too happy about Jehan's choice in majors." Grantaire frowned.

"Dick." Combeferre muttered.

"Yeah. And I know he hates me." Grantaire sighed.

"What do you mean?" Combeferre inquired.

"He hates my profession, and he gave me the dirtiest look when I was drinking from my flask." Grantaire admitted.

"Well, maybe it's just his coping mechanism." Combeferre tried.

"Well, we'll know for sure when Enjolras gets better." Grantaire dismissed.

"I'm sure. Even if he doesn't like you, that's not going to stop her." Combeferre smirked.

"I know that smirk. That is the Enjolras is going to kill someone smirk. I love it." Grantaire laughed.

Combeferre joined him. "Well, I may know her best but sometimes that just means I know when to stay out of her way."

Grantaire laughed harder. Then Combeferre sighed.

"Sometimes I really hate her parents." Combeferre admitted quietly.

"What do you mean?" Grantaire asked.

"You wanna know what they asked me yesterday?" Combeferre growled.

Grantaire nodded, knowing the right answer was yes.

"They asked me on whether Enjolras would sign a DNR order. As if they don't know!" Combeferre shouted, standing sharply and pacing.

"'Ferre, she's their daughter. They don't want to plan for if something were to happen to her. No parent should outlive their child." Grantaire defended.

"Yeah well they shouldn't ask their friends!" Combeferre slumped back into his seat, revealing the core of the problem.

"What did you tell them?" Grantaire inquired.

"I told them no, of course not. Enjolras isn't dying without a fight, whether it's by her or the medical personnel. They should know that." Combeferre snapped.

"I don't think they know their daughter very well. And I think they know that. She changed from high school to college, she took on an entirely new personality. She stopped being the girl they knew because her eyes were opened to the injustices of the world and they don't see that. I don't want to tell you anything else because she doesn't want it known and I would never break her trust but there's a reason she never introduced us before." Grantaire disclosed.

Combeferre sighed. "I know. She's told me that. She plays everything so close to the chest."

"It's not about us. It's about them." Grantaire reassured.

Combeferre nodded tiredly.

His phone buzzed and so did Combeferre's.

**Marius**: Courfeyrac is coming home tomorrow!

"Speak of the devil." Grantaire muttered.

"I'm so glad. I've really missed him. I owe him several apologies." Combeferre smiled at his phone.

"Don't hold yourself to a standard you can't meet. You're only human." Grantaire presented.

Combeferre didn't answer him.

"Hey, have you met Courfeyrac's parents?" Grantaire asked, suddenly remembering.

"Yeah, they're good people. I met them when I moved in freshman year." Combeferre nodded.

"Okay. They're coming back from their vacation to find out their son tried to commit suicide. I'm a bit worried." Grantaire said.

"Oh they're coming back tomorrow? Well, I can talk to them if you want me to." Combeferre offered.

"That'd be nice, thanks. He's worried about what they're going to say and he's especially scared about his little sister." Grantaire explained.

"I understand. He's always been protective of her. Even just in conversation." Combeferre smiled faintly.

Then he checked the time, as something was nagging at him to do so. Two twenty-five.

"Fuck! I'm going to be late for my meeting!" Grantaire shouted, startling Combeferre.

"What meeting?" Combeferre asked.

"I have a viewing at three at the gallery where I sell my work. Luckily, I've got the pieces in my car." Grantaire started heading towards the door.

"I'll call Courfeyrac's parents. Go, and good luck." Combeferre called after him.

He drove with a fury and just barely made it a couple minutes early. Edwards was enthralled with the piece, if he did say so himself. Grantaire almost couldn't part with it since it had turned out so nicely and Edwards agreed that he would put it to be leased for the moment, and if anyone gave him a serious offer he would contact Grantaire. The one with Enjolras's eyes and the emotional pain, which he titled Despair wasn't as popular but Edwards seemed to want to pay to have it displayed so he just sold it to him. Someone else could buy it and he'd never have to see how badly he screwed up her eyes again. There was another but it simply became included in the package and all-in-all he got a pretty good deal for three pieces of art work. So Grantaire thanked him and collected his dues for the paintings. He deposited it, turned his phone back on and texted Combeferre.

**Grantaire**: Finished. How'd they take it?

**Combeferre**: Got their voicemails but I'm expecting them to call me soon.

**Grantaire**: Good. You want me to come back over?

**Combeferre**: No. I'm good here. I'm even making a snack. Eponine is coming over.

**Grantaire**: Hey, Ep is MY badass best friend.

**Combeferre**: She's only coming over because she needs my help and wants to check on me.

**Grantaire**: All right. Update me and Marius about the whole rental situation all right?

**Combeferre**: Of course.

**Grantaire**: Oh, also, you apparently have a test with Gigi on Monday. Joly told me to remind you.

**Combeferre**: Oh thanks I'd completely forgotten. Maybe Eponine and I can study together.

**Grantaire**: I'm sure your teachers will be glad to see you.

**Combeferre**: Is that a thinly veiled reference that I've been skipping too much class?

**Grantaire**: Wasn't that thinly veiled apparently.

**Combeferre**: I get your point.

**Grantaire**: All right. Have fun.

**Combeferre**: I'll text you later.

He put his phone away and drove home. Then he scrolled through the group messages for which he'd turned off his phone in the first place.

**Marius**: Courfeyrac is coming home tomorrow!

**Cosette**: That's fantastic!

**Eponine**: What time?

**Marius**: Discharge should be around two o'clock.

**Bahorel**: Who's hosting the party to celebrate?

**Musichetta**: Maybe we oughta hold it at the Musain. I'm sure he'd like to see something other than another room.

**Joly**: Sounds good. I'm no expert but I'd want to see something else for a change.

**Feuilly**: Shall we hold it there?

**Combeferre**: I think we should. If Marius can agree with me, as we know him best, he hates being cooped up for a long time.

**Marius**: I agree.

**Combeferre**: Then it's settled. The Musain at about two thirty.

**Feuilly**: Should it be a potluck?

**Combeferre**: Nah. I got this. Someone should get cake, though.

**Marius**: His favorite flavor is angel food cake. He loves eating with his fingers.

**Cosette**: I can bake him one. And I'll bake one for the rest of us too.

**Combeferre**: I can take care the rest. I've definitely got a few party platter coupons.

**Bahorel**: Good to have you back, man.

**Feuilly**: You're coming of course right?

**Combeferre**: Yes, I'm coming and I'm sure Grantaire will be coming too.

**Cosette**: Yeah, he's been doing this for a little while. Where is he?

**Musichetta**: At his gallery selling a painting.

**Combeferre**: In a meeting with his art dealer.

**Cosette**: Ah. I'm glad. His paintings are the best. I hope he gets a lot of money for it.

**Feuilly**: Well, I'm sure he'll tell us.

**Bahorel**: Well, it's not like he keeps secrets from us.

**Combeferre**: Actually, there is one secret he has been keeping from us.

Grantaire's heart almost stopped. He'd just made up with Combeferre. What the hell was he talking about? He couldn't possibly tell them about him and Enjolras sleeping together. Enjolras would never forgive him.

**Musichetta**: What possible secret could he be hiding?

**Combeferre**: He is actually a decent cook when it comes to soup. I don't have food poisoning this time.

**Bahorel**: Bwa ha ha ha ha!

**Joly**: LOL.

**Musichetta**: Good one, Ferre.

He sighed in relief. He should've known better than to doubt Combeferre would keep that secret. Enjolras meant a lot to him too.

The rest of the messages were just his friends goofing around with Combeferre, glad he had come back to them. He smiled and started working on a paper, although it wasn't due for two weeks he just wanted to get it out of the way.

His phone buzzed about two hours later.

"Hello?" He answered, not even looking at the caller ID.

"Nikolas?" Luc replied, unsure.

"Hey, doc! Sorry, I was just working on a paper." Grantaire apologized.

"Don't worry. I'm glad you're doing well. I've got the list of the clinics and rehab centers you asked for." Luc assuaged.

"That's fantastic. I've got my pen and paper ready." He scrambled to his desk and wrote down all the names Luc rattled off.

"Thanks. I'll get these over to him. I really appreciate this." Grantaire thanked.

"Hey. You know that I'm here to help. I'm glad to be of service to your friends." Luc finished and he thanked him again before hanging up.

He called Jehan next.

"Yello?" Jehan chirped.

"I'm glad to hear you're feeling better." Grantaire smiled.

"I'm doing all right. You called me." Jehan said.

"I did. I got that list of clinics." He relayed the list when Jehan was ready.

"Thanks. I'll call them on Monday." Jehan acknowledged.

"Okay. You doing okay?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah. He just caught me off guard, is all. I've got a thick skin." Jehan toughed out, knowing exactly what Grantaire had meant.

"Hey. I'm serious." Grantaire pressed.

"I'm serious too. I expected something totally different from Enjolras's parents." Jehan expressed.

"I know. I don't want to say anything else but I completely get where you're coming from." Grantaire stated.

"You promise her something?" Jehan inquired lightly.

"She doesn't want it to be known." Grantaire managed to explain.

"I understand. Boyfriend issues." Jehan laughed.

"Oh shut up." Grantaire mumbled.

"Oh come on. We've been waiting for you two to get together for ages!" Jehan chastised.

"We've only been together a few weeks!" Grantaire protested. "Well, basically, not counting since she got hurt. That's only a few weeks."

"Too bad. You two are more than adorable. Star-crossed lovers like Romeo and Juliet!" Jehan cackled.

"Six people died in that play because all the adults were dicks!" Grantaire shouted.

"Yeah well, we're not teenagers and we're not dicks. Romeo and Juliet were star-crossed lovers and that's all that matters." Jehan said succinctly.

"All right. But… you've already got poems for when she wakes up, don't you?" Grantaire realized.

"Oh yeah." Jehan chirped giddily.

"Oh fuck." Grantaire groaned.

Jehan laughed maniacally.

"Shut up, flower boy!" Grantaire snapped.

"I'm evil, I know." Jehan grinned.

"Prick." Grantaire muttered.

"You coming to the party at the Musain tomorrow?" Jehan asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Grantaire promised.

"Okay. I gotta go. I'm meeting up with some other kids in my math class for group studying." Jehan said.

"See you tomorrow, flower boy." Grantaire hung up.

He finished his paper, thankfully it was only four pages and double-spaced, and submitted it. Then he called Combeferre.

"Hey, Taire, what's up?" Combeferre answered.

"You eat dinner yet?" Grantaire asked.

"It's only six thirty." Combeferre protested.

"Do I need to get Eponine?" Grantaire threatened.

"I sent Eponine home. I needed to study and she didn't really want to study." Combeferre said.

"Oh really?" Grantaire wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Screw you, R. She just wanted to screw around. Not in the sexual way!" Combeferre added sharply as Grantaire laughed.

"You just walked right into that." Grantaire protested.

"I am not like you, Nikolas Grantaire." Combeferre growled.

"Anyways, dinner." Grantaire got back on track.

"No I have not had dinner." Combeferre enunciated, grumbling.

"Good. Because I don't want to make anything and I'm tired of eating take-out alone." Grantaire smiled.

"All right. You want Chinese or pizza?" Combeferre asked.

"Whichever you want." Grantaire shrugged.

"All right. And I'm not letting you pay for your share. You can pay me back by helping me study." Combeferre refused.

"But I-"

"End of story." Combeferre finished.

"Fine. But I will help you study so hard." Grantaire acquiesced.

"Taire, you're dating Enjolras." Combeferre teased.

"Fuck." Grantaire laughed.

"See you in twenty?" Combeferre asked.

"Yeah I'll leave now." Grantaire hung up and drove over to Combeferre's place. He opened the door and saw Combeferre spread out on the couch.

"All right. Give me your textbook." Grantaire said.

Combeferre pointed at the textbook and he saw the marked chapters he was supposed to study. He reviewed them and started calling out terms Combeferre had highlighted and waited for his answers. He didn't really understand, as it was a Molecular Genetics class, but he went off the textbook for a few minutes until a knock sounded.

"That's the pizza guy." Combeferre got up to pay and accepted the two medium pizzas. He paid and Grantaire got out the plates. It was the rule in that apartment that food was to be kept on plates and crumbs were to be kept off the couch. Well, as much as can be as humanly possible. Combeferre and Enjolras knew they were only mere college students.

After the pizza had been thoroughly consumed (Combeferre doesn't eat pizza crust, and honestly, Grantaire was so torn about leaving on principle but Combeferre let him eat it and all was forgiven), they went back to studying. Terms, main ideas, short answer, fill-in-the-blanks later and suddenly it was past twelve.

"I don't want you driving home this late. It's dangerous." Combeferre said as he put his textbook and notes away.

"I've driven here and back at much later nights." Grantaire frowned.

"There's been a rash of accidents lately. I don't want you getting hurt." Combeferre explained and he must have known it was a lousy reason since Combeferre wouldn't look at him.

Then it hit him. Combeferre didn't want to be alone. They'd all had nights where they wanted company because they were just so done with being alone. And usually he had Enjolras to help him. Now he was all alone in a big apartment with a room he couldn't enter.

"Okay. I'll stay." Grantaire acquiesced.

Combeferre smiled and yawned. "You can take Enjolras's room."

Combeferre stopped, seeming to realize exactly what he had said.

"R, I'm sorry." Combeferre started but Grantaire held up a hand.

"Relax. It's just a room. I'll be fine." Grantaire grandstanded. _I think_.

After all, how bad could a room be? It was a room. It couldn't hurt him. He'd be fine. He kissed Combeferre good night and Combeferre pulled him into a hard hug. Grantaire knew it was for more than helping him study. He returned it as hard as he could and held on until Combeferre let go.

"It's amazing how someone like me has friends like you." Combeferre sighed.

"No. It's really not." Grantaire shook his head and smiled gently.

He closed Combeferre's door and sighed. How was a room so daunting? It was just a room. So he decided he wasn't going to let this bother him and he went inside her room. The first thing he became aware of was the smell. Her scent slammed into him like a ton of bricks. He nearly choked. Somehow, that new book smell, her deodorant, and a touch of lilac perfume combined into something purely Enjolras. He tried to just to think of it as Enjolras was on vacation but it didn't work. So instead, he just tried to focus on going to sleep. He stripped down to his boxers and went to get into her bed. But for some reason he couldn't do it. So he almost ran out of her room and knocked on Combeferre's door.

"Come in." Combeferre called unsurely.

He entered and saw Combeferre with a book and a frown.

"What's wrong?" Combeferre asked.

"Do you have some shorts I can borrow? I can't sleep in her bed without some kind of buffer. Not without her." Grantaire sighed, completely sure he wasn't making sense.

But Combeferre seemed to understand anyway. "Big dresser, third drawer down."

He nodded and picked out the first pair of pants with a draw-string which just happened to be sweatpants. Yes the weather was getting cold but the apartment was always at room temperature as best as can be. But honestly he wouldn't mind. Sweatpants and socks were good enough pajamas.

"Come on. Take off your glasses and go to sleep." Grantaire pressed.

Combeferre smiled tiredly and marked the place in his book, took off his glasses and turned off the light. He closed the door behind him, just in case Combeferre wanted privacy.

After he slipped them on, he crawled into her bed and closed his eyes. Her scent almost amplified as he laid down on her pillow, so much so he wanted to cry. A few tears slipped out, and he wiped his eyes furiously. He couldn't believe himself. Crying over something so simple. He couldn't be this weak! It was just a room!

But he knew it wasn't just a room. Her scent, her things, her bed, her pillows, there was nothing in this room that didn't remind him of her. Knowing he was in this room but she wasn't. She wasn't in her own room to tell him to get out. Or maybe even to sleep with her. He closed his eyes and tried to dream, hoping sleep would come soon. He could almost feel her breath against his neck. Indulging himself further into the dream, the touch of her skin came alive across his body and he could hear her breathing gently and he allowed himself to stay up just a touch longer. He started running his thumb up and down her arm and he could hear her sigh of contentment. He slipped into sleep, nuzzling into her hair and trying to bring her closer.

"R! R, get up! Get up, get up get up!" Someone was shouting and shaking him, almost violently.

He wanted to snuggle back into Enjolras but all he got was a face full of pillow with her scent and nothing else.

"R! I said get up! Wake up!" The voice turned out to be Combeferre yelling into his ear, absolutely terrified.

Forcing himself to return to consciousness and an empty bed, he propped himself up on his elbows. His bleary eyes revealed a petrifying picture. Combeferre's face was stark white, and he'd thrown a sweater on to mismatch with his gym shorts. He wore flip-flops and started throwing Grantaire's own shirt at him.

"Wha- wha?" He tried to manage but lethargy still held him tight in its grasp.

"We don't have time for you to wake up. I can get you coffee later. Get your shirt on and let's go." Combeferre barked, his voice shaking with fear.

Grantaire did as Combeferre said and threw himself out of bed, completely forgetting his shoes. Combeferre grabbed his hand and they raced down the stairs. Grantaire's heart was hammering. Combeferre never got this scared.

"What's happened? What's wrong?" Grantaire begged, desperate. They ran into Combeferre's car and Combeferre jammed the key in the ignition.

"Enjolras just coded."

* * *

**Oh I'm so evil! Don't worry. I'm not cruel. Mostly. Well, sort of. I can no longer lie. I am kind of cruel. Man, though, the way I busted this chapter out you'd think I have all the free time in the world. I just couldn't stop writing. By the way, Guest who keeps reviewing, thank you. Your comments, and others like them, give me strength that I'm not capable of myself. Thank you so much for them. Don't ever be sorry for asking. Reviews are very much appreciated.**

**P.S. To answer your question, yes he did.**


	18. Chapter 18

"_Enjolras just coded."_

"What?" Grantaire heart had stopped. This couldn't be happening. Enjolras couldn't be… he couldn't even say it. She couldn't be. He would kill himself rather than admit it.

"I don't know. I just got a frantic call from Enjolras's mother. She said to get down to the hospital immediately and she was crying. I could overhear the shouts of the nurses and doctors of 'code blue'. We gotta get down there now!" Combeferre's hands were shaking but honestly he knew he wasn't any better at the moment. He was too scared to ask to drive. If Combeferre didn't get them into an accident, he would.

They drove as fast as the two o'clock traffic would allow them, which was pretty quick but not quick enough. He could barely breathe the entire time. Once they swung haphazardly into a space, Combeferre threw the car into park and they grabbed each other's hands once more, running together inside as quick as Grantaire could carry them. They went up the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator, and they both stopped when they saw Courfeyrac waiting outside her room. He was just in his boxers and a hospital gown. The white bandages stood out against the light blue fabric and the tear streaks were clear on his face.

"No. Please, God, no!" Grantaire shouted, everything in his life crumbling down around him. Combeferre sank to his knees and sobbed into Grantaire's waist.

"No, no, no, no! She's alive! They brought her back!" Courfeyrac protested and he ran to his friends.

"Oh thank God." Grantaire heard Combeferre mutter. He didn't care. Enjolras was alive. She was alive! His life wasn't over!

Courfeyrac fell to his knees and hugged Combeferre. Grantaire joined them a second later. Soon, they were one big mess of tears, snot, and limbs.

"Boys?" A weak voice called out.

Grantaire popped his head up and saw a very pale Sebastien standing over them. He swallowed his tears and started.

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you for getting down here so quickly. I really appreciate it." Sebastien managed.

"Of course. There's nowhere we'd rather be." Combeferre sniffled.

"Well, thank you. Um, is there… um, anything I can get you?" Sebastien asked.

Courfeyrac frowned.

"He wants to be useful." Grantaire hissed under his breath.

"Um, we could all do with some coffee, sir." Combeferre suggested, tears still running down his cheeks.

Sebastien nodded, patted Combeferre on the head and slowly roamed over to where the cafeteria was.

"Do you-" Combeferre sniffed, "Do you know what happened?"

Courfeyrac mimicked Combeferre. "Not really. I was talking with one of the graveyard shift nurses and over her pager, Enjolras's code blue sounded and I begged her to let me go to her. She took pity on me and let me out."

Grantaire nodded. He kissed his two friends, hard and desperate, and then he broke down crying again. Courfeyrac immediately went to his friend and started hugging the stuffing out of him. Combeferre curled up next to him and sobbed.

"Boys, I'm so sorry but I do need you to move. You're kind of in the middle of the floor." A passing nurse Grantaire didn't recognize told them.

Grantaire nodded and lifted him and his friends up, and Courfeyrac had to help him with Combeferre, who'd become almost boneless. They carried each other to little row of chairs and collapsed into them. Sebastien returned with coffee, cream, milk and sugar.

"I wasn't sure how you boys took your coffee so I grabbed everything." Sebastien shrugged.

They thanked him and made their coffee, drinking it slowly. Sebastien broke down soon after they started.

"I'm sorry, boys." Sebastien apologized and Combeferre only hugged him.

Courfeyrac wailed and Grantaire grabbed him tightly. They stayed that way for a little while until a doctor approached.

"Monsieur? Your wife is awake." The doctor said.

"Awake?" Combeferre asked as he pulled back.

"Annette just couldn't… she couldn't watch…" Sebastien tried and failed.

"His wife fainted when she heard the news." The doctor finished.

"Go to her. We'll be all right." Grantaire nodded at him.

Sebastien frowned but followed the doctor.

"What are we gonna do? What are we going to do?" Courfeyrac squealed, still tightly pressed against Grantaire's chest.

"I don't know. I don't know." Grantaire just succumbed to his tears and he felt Combeferre hit his shoulder and cry.

They cried until he couldn't cry anymore and Combeferre was half-asleep from exhaustion. Courfeyrac had stopped crying too but he wore a blank expression on his face. Grantaire kissed his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and his eyes. Then another one of his hands found Combeferre and he started running his hand through Combeferre's hair. He hoped he was giving his friends' some sort of comfort.

"I don't want to live in a world without her." Combeferre mumbled.

"Neither do I." Grantaire agreed.

"She'd kill us if we made a suicide pact now." Courfeyrac muttered, completely serious.

"You're right. I think we just oughta go out and get plastered." Grantaire stated.

"I can ask if I'm allowed to have alcohol but I'm down for that." Courfeyrac replied.

"No." Combeferre said.

"No?" Courfeyrac and Grantaire asked on cue.

"No. Getting drunk is not the solution here. Getting drunk won't help her get better." Combeferre started.

Sebastien returned, helping Annette walk to the chair. She was chalk white, her eyes as red as her broken heart. Enjolras's doctor, Doctor Torres, came over.

"We got her back." Was her first statement. "Yes it was traumatic cardiac arrest but however, we got to her fast enough. Her heart has stabilized, and thankfully, the intubation tube gave her the required oxygen as to help prevent brain damage. Now, I cannot say that she will not have any brain damage, as that is rare but the damage won't be as bad as it could've been."

A sigh of relief echoed through the group.

"She may have trouble remembering certain things, or she may have forgotten how to do things she learned to do years ago. It's very common." Doctor Torres started but then her pager went off. She shouted, "Excuse me." as she ran off.

"That's not her. It can't be her. Too quick." Grantaire begged. He had no idea whether it was her, but he couldn't believe it.

"What were you doing here so early?" Courfeyrac asked gently.

"We fell asleep and the hospital staff must've taken pity on us." Sebastien answered.

"All right. New vote for getting absolutely plastered. Two out of three." Grantaire said, wanting to get so drunk he'd forget her.

"Christmas." Annette muttered.

"Pardon?" Combeferre frowned.

"It'll be Christmas soon. It's Julia's favorite holiday. And then there's her birthday." Annette said, still not making much sense. "I can't believe she might not be there."

She seemed to collapse in on herself, crying. Sebastien embraced her tightly and Courfeyrac pushed into Grantaire. Combeferre nuzzled into Grantaire's leg and he started stroking his hair again. After an eternity, a nurse walked over.

"I was sent for family of Julia Enjolras?" She asked, unsurely.

"Yes." Chorused all five of them.

She looked them all over and shrugged but nodded. "All right. Doctor Torres wants you to follow me."

They all stood, and Grantaire slung his arm around Combeferre's waist and Courfeyrac leaned on him heavily and he barely managed to keep pace with Sebastien and Annette though they seemed to have the same problem. They followed her to Enjolras's room. There were multiple doctors were around her and they were doing something to her.

"Too much activity to be death. They wouldn't bring us over if she was dead." Combeferre supplied, some strength returning to his legs.

A touch of hope entered his soul.

"Yes, hello. I'm sorry to be so mysterious but I've never seen a ROSC case this young." Doctor apologized.

"ROSC?" Combeferre asked breathlessly, standing on his own.

"Yes. Return of spontaneous circulation. She's breathing on her own now. We're taking out the intubation tube. It's not unusual, for older people. She's the youngest I've ever seen it in. Granted, I'm not the Mayo Clinic. However, she is steadily improving from earlier. This is a very good sign. If you prayed, I'm pretty sure He just answered." Doctor Torres smiled.

Grantaire could've kissed her. Enjolras was going to be okay! She was breathing. He couldn't keep the tears from streaming down his face, and honestly he didn't care. Enjolras was getting better. She was getting better, and he couldn't be happier. He could do anything! Combeferre was holding onto him so tight, he finally noticed he could barely breathe. He didn't care. Enjolras was getting better. He could've been expelled from school and evicted and still couldn't be bothered. His world was coming back to him. She was going to be okay.

"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you." Annette was shaking Torres's hand furiously and Sebastien was crying tears of joy.

Once they collected themselves, they thanked Torres again and again but eventually headed back down to their respective homes. Courfeyrac had to stay in the hospital, since he hadn't been officially been discharged but they had promised to pick him up at two exactly so he could get some sleep.

Combeferre and Grantaire got into Combeferre's car and Grantaire frowned.

"Did you tell Courfeyrac's parents about the party?" Grantaire asked.

Combeferre straightened. "No. Oops. Maybe Marius did."

"Relax. They'll understand." Grantaire dismissed. After all, nothing could go wrong today. It just couldn't.

"I'll call them in the morning." Combeferre promised and they drove back to Combeferre's apartment. Since it was now about four, it went unspoken that Grantaire was still sleeping over. But still he closed the door to Enjolras's room and sat down on the couch. His feet were cold and when he went to figure out why, he realized his socks were ripped clean through. His feet were filthy.

"Do you have any socks I can borrow?" Grantaire asked quietly. Combeferre tossed a pair at his head.

"Sorry. I was aiming for the couch. Speaking of, I'm not making you stay out on the couch. Come on." Combeferre invited him in.

He put on the new socks, threw the old ones away and laid down on the other side of the bed.

"You got work tomorrow?" Combeferre asked.

"No. I still got a little leave left. I do have to go back to work next Sunday. It's been a long two weeks." Grantaire sighed.

"I thought you only had two weeks of leave." Combeferre noticed.

"Originally, yeah but Mark is going out of town in two weeks and he and I worked out switching shifts so he could make a little extra money and while I'm not getting paid for this week, selling my paintings gives me the freedom to do that. I'm good." Grantaire promised.

"Oh. I meant to ask earlier but why were you making out with a pillow?" Combeferre remembered.

"I did that?" Grantaire blushed.

"Essentially." Combeferre smirked.

"Must have been dreaming." Grantaire muttered, slightly embarrassed.

"Night." Combeferre said.

"Night." And the exhaustion now deep in his bones seemed to take effect. His emotions melted into a simple mix of drowsiness and contentment. Soon after, he slipped back into sleep.

The next morning, Combeferre was already up and making food by the time he bothered to get out of bed. He checked Combeferre's alarm clock and saw it was a little after ten. He climbed out of bed and headed into the kitchen, where Combeferre was finishing French toast and eggs.

"Morning honey." Combeferre teased.

"My, my, aren't we domestic?" Grantaire countered.

"Oh shut up. At least I can make food without killing anyone." Combeferre shot back and he laughed.

"Oh I don't care. Nothing could spoil my mood today." Grantaire grinned.

"I've called Courfeyrac's parents. The party is still on because they're not coming back for a long while. They already called Marius and they can't leave until two since Marius somehow calmed them down enough to not to leave the car and take a plane. So by the time they get here, it'll be after six." Combeferre informed him.

"That's good. Courfeyrac didn't want them to see him in the hospital." Grantaire sighed.

"I think that's one of the reasons Marius did that. But the bandages have to stay on. They'll have to be on for a little bit while his stitches are still healing." Combeferre frowned.

"Yeah but this is long-sleeve weather. Christmas is coming up fast." Grantaire replied.

"True. But watch it. Enjolras catches you talking about Christmas before Halloween and she'll skin you." Combeferre laughed.

"Oh I think she'd forgive me today. After all, she hasn't thrown Courfeyrac into the meatloaf yet." Grantaire smiled.

"I'm just glad he's coming home." Combeferre sighed contently.

"So am I." Grantaire grinned.

"I'm going to go back to the hospital after breakfast. You wanna come?" Combeferre asked.

"Sure. I'll stop by Enjolras's room first while you visit Courfeyrac." Grantaire nodded.

They ate breakfast in amiable silence. Then while Combeferre was loading the dishwasher, he absolutely refused to allow Grantaire to do it, Grantaire popped into Enjolras's room. He grabbed one of her books, almost on a whim, just to read to her since he assumed she would like it. He slipped it into his pocket and together they drove to the hospital. They parted ways in the elevator and he found Enjolras's room surprisingly empty. Sebastien and Annette must still be sleeping off the adrenaline and fear. So he pulled a chair right up to her, the doctors must have moved them, and started reading from _To Kill a Mockingbird_.

He'd gotten to about chapter four, it was long first chapters, when Combeferre knocked. He put the book down and turned.

"You want to see him?" Combeferre asked gently.

Grantaire checked the time. It was one fifteen.

"Wow. I'm surprised her parents haven't shown up yet." Grantaire noticed.

"If they fell asleep in one of those chairs, I see why they're so tired." Combeferre said.

"Does he want to see me? Can he see me?" Grantaire countered, remembering Combeferre's question.

"Yeah he can see you. I didn't ask but I'm sure he wants to see you. He's been giddy as a schoolboy all morning according to his nurses." Combeferre smiled.

He smiled back. "Why not? I'm sure she wouldn't mind hearing your voice."

Combeferre nodded and Grantaire kissed his cheek as he left.

"Are you sure you know who you're dating?" Combeferre called after him.

He laughed all the way to Courfeyrac's room.

"R! Hey!" Courfeyrac bounced on his bed.

"Hey!" Grantaire embraced his friend.

"Where is everyone? I would've thought they'd be here right now." Courfeyrac asked, and Grantaire became aware he didn't know about the party. So he thought he'd surprise him.

"Oh I forgot to call them. I got so caught up in making it to my meeting on time I forgot to tell people to visit you today." Grantaire frowned, putting on a little act for his friend. Though, in actuality, this entire sentence was entirely true.

"It's all right. Did you tell them about Enjolras?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Ask Combeferre." Grantaire dismissed. He had completely forgotten to tell everyone that she was breathing on her own!

"He said to ask you!" Courfeyrac laughed.

"I'm sorry. I completely forgot and I think he did too. We were really tired last night and now all we can think about is how happy we are about you coming home today and Enjolras getting better." Grantaire blushed good-naturedly.

"Wait, what meeting were you talking about?" Courfeyrac pressed.

"I met with the gallery I sell to occasionally. They paid me for a couple pieces." Grantaire answered.

Courfeyrac's smile brightened. "Really? I'm so glad! You're a wonderful artist."

"It was a fair price for what I gave them." Grantaire stated.

"Are they going on display? When is the showing?" Courfeyrac demanded.

"No showing. But if someone buys a piece, they'll put my pieces up in its old place. There're no showings these next couple of months. It's not a Christmas gallery. There are specific galleries who do Christmas showings but my gallery doesn't participate in those. If I were to have Christmas paintings, they would buy them from me and sell them to another gallery." Grantaire explained.

"But do they tell you?" Courfeyrac insisted.

"Yes, I think they tell me because I might get a call about a price, depending on the painting." Grantaire nodded.

"When they do tell you, tell me. I'd like to see them." Courfeyrac smiled.

Grantaire hugged his friend again. "Thanks."

"And when Enjolras gets better, she'd like to see them too. She loves going to museums and galleries." Courfeyrac added.

Grantaire nudged him playfully. Courfeyrac nudged him right back. They were about to start an all-out war, Grantaire was two seconds away from tickling the little bastard, when Marius knocked.

"Hey, Marius." Courfeyrac beamed.

"You seem happy." Marius matched his smile and hugged Courfeyrac.

"I am happy. Apparently, R and Ferre have not told you all something." Courfeyrac was about ready to burst.

"Not yet. Let's not tell them yet." Grantaire hoped that saying that would convey to Marius the party was a secret.

Marius frowned, completely oblivious.

"All right. But when will we tell them?" Courfeyrac asked.

"A little after you get discharged. Let's have them be happy about one thing first." Grantaire eyed Marius and he saw the recognition in Marius's eyes.

"Yeah, don't worry. Maybe we'll text everyone when we send them a picture of you at home." Marius added, thankfully catching on. Though, if he had his druthers', anyone else would have shown up. Marius was horrible at surprises.

"Sounds okay." Courfeyrac's spirit dampened a little but he still shone strong with the good news.

"Marius, why don't you get the paperwork started since he's being released to you?" Grantaire tried sending Marius away without Courfeyrac noticing.

"Sure. I'll be right back." Marius smiled, oblivious to that fact himself and headed out.

"Is there a reason you want Marius gone?" Courfeyrac frowned, acting like he knew more than he thought.

"I want you out of this hospital." Grantaire admitted.

"Fair enough." Courfeyrac smiled, and Grantaire cheered internally.

Combeferre returned soon after.

Grantaire and Courfeyrac cocked their heads in confusion.

"Sebastien and Annette showed up. I wanted to give them some privacy with their daughter. They looked a lot better than I've seen them in a long time." Combeferre explained.

"Hope will do that to you." Grantaire quipped and Combeferre shoved him lightly.

"I'm just glad this is all working out. I'd hate to be dead when she's not." Courfeyrac sighed.

Grantaire and Combeferre looked at him, frowning.

"I'm fine, I promise. Just… I didn't word that right." Courfeyrac defended.

"Are you sure you're fine?" Combeferre asked his dangerous question.

Everyone knew that when Combeferre asked are you sure you're fine, he became a human lie detector. If Enjolras was skipping meals or sleep, are you sure you're fine and Enjolras got food and a nap on the couch in the Musain and no one was allowed to make noise. If Bahorel got beat up in a bar fight gone bad, are you sure you're fine and Bahorel was swarmed with ice packs and Band-Aids. If Grantaire was getting drunk too much, are you sure you're fine, and the Musain wouldn't serve him for a few days so he could dry out a bit and Combeferre made sure he had someone to talk to.

"I swear, Combeferre. I'm well enough to be released." Courfeyrac pleaded.

He must not have been lying as Combeferre nodded, satisfied.

Marius popped back in soon after and after many hospital forms signed and initialed, again he thought there was too much bureaucracy, Courfeyrac was finally free to go. Marius gave him some clothes from home, as the ones he came in in had already been given to Marius to get the blood out. He wasn't sure but he thought Marius got rid of the shirt soaked in blood. He would've.

Then they drove to Combeferre's apartment, Grantaire got his car and they all drove to Marius and Courfeyrac's apartment. He called Eponine, who he knew was already there.

"Hey, R." Eponine answered.

"So, we're on our way home. Everyone already there?" Grantaire replied.

"Yep. Everyone's here." Eponine responded happily.

"Okay so he doesn't know that you guys are all there." Grantaire started and suddenly, Cosette shouted out, "Okay so Marius says that this is a surprise party!"

"Oh I think Marius beat you to it." Eponine laughed.

"All right. We're almost there. See you soon." Grantaire hung up.

"Bye!" Eponine shouted.

He pulled up and parked next to the apartment building since their building had limited spaces. He caught up with Marius and Combeferre and Courfeyrac. Grantaire and Combeferre headed up first and opened the door and hid behind the dark walls and Courfeyrac frowned at the dark room and then someone flipped the lights on and everyone jumped.

"SURPRISE!"

Courfeyrac shrieked, jumping about two feet into the air. When he calmed down, he saw all of his friends and they pulled him inside. He started laughing and shot Grantaire and Combeferre a look.

"I know you two did this." He accused, a smile ruining his tone.

"Actually, they did this. We had nothing to do with it." Combeferre said truthfully.

Courfeyrac grinned so wide Grantaire thought it impressive his face had yet to split and accepted the soul-crushing hug from Eponine and Cosette. Then they led him to the kitchen. There, a huge angel food cake with the words Welcome Home written in green colored frosting, Cosette was a baking master, and another huge cake with about twenty candles in it.

Courfeyrac was damn near tears and wiped his eyes furiously.

"I love you all so much." Courfeyrac managed.

"We love you too. Blow out the candles and make a wish." Cosette chirped, still attached to Courfeyrac's left side.

He leaned over, made sure Cosette wasn't going to catch on fire, and blew out the candles. When the last one was out, they all cheered and Cosette and Eponine kissed him.

The party went on for hours, and it seemed like Combeferre had never left them. Then, at about four thirty, Combeferre stood on a chair and that drew everyone's attention. That was always Enjolras's signal to quiet down and listen to her. She never needed words.

"All right so I know we're celebrating one friend returning to us. Now I have news about the other. It starts bad but it gets good so don't worry. Last night about two, Enjolras coded but they brought her back!" Combeferre shouted that last part after the huge gasp that flooded the group. "They brought her back and with return of spontaneous circulation, she's breathing on her own and she's getting better!"

A cheer erupted and Combeferre jumped off the chair and everyone seemed to squeeze into a tight group hug. Grantaire somehow ended up getting squished between Bahorel and Courfeyrac. Music started being played and Eponine grabbed Grantaire's hand and he started dancing with her.

At roughly six fifteen, a little pink blur ran into the room and Courfeyrac laughed louder than he had all day. He swung who had to be the thirteen year old Adelaide into the air and kissed her face until her giggles were little more than a single note.

Then Courfeyrac's parents joined them, relieved that their son seemed unharmed. He smiled at them and they smiled back. Courfeyrac got all his good looks from his mother, there was no doubt. Her wavy brown hair done up in a loose ponytail, her brilliant brown eyes, her gentle features, almost flawless skin, and her petite stature was reflected clearly in her son. Courfeyrac's father however did give him something. His height. Courfeyrac was long and lanky and Courfeyrac's father seemed to give him every ounce of height he had. His black hair, sharp features, and bow mouth were found much more easily in Adelaide. But neither was unattractive. In fact, Grantaire suspected Adelaide would not stay single long, especially if she was like her brother.

"To those of you who haven't met my parents, my parents. I've shown you all the pictures of Adelaide." Courfeyrac announced.

"Hi!" They chorused.

"Hello. Oh it's wonderful to meet you all." Courfeyrac's mother's grin matched her son's.

"It's nice to meet you too." Cosette answered.

"All right, I'm going to go spend some time with my parents." Courfeyrac announced.

"Don't worry. Spend time with family. However, you still have to come home tonight. And I mean tonight. You've got school tomorrow." Marius reminded.

"You got it." Courfeyrac ruffled Marius's hair and carried his sister out after hugging his family tightly.

"I'm glad he's with his family. They love him, they really do." Marius sighed.

"Yeah his parents are awesome." Combeferre mused.

"And his sister's so cute. Did you see her outfit?" Cosette cooed.

"I did. Even for a thirteen year old, that's a huge love of pink." Bahorel stated and laughter broke out.

"Would you expect anything less from a Courfeyrac?" Combeferre shot back and the laughter increased.

He felt his heat swell with happiness and contentment. His friends were together, enjoying themselves and he could just watch their happy faces and burn this moment into his mind. He never wanted to forget today. Well, he wanted to forget the uncertainty of whether Enjolras was dead or not, but everything else was great.

The party greatly slowed down after Courfeyrac left but the feeling still resonated until late in the night. Grantaire flopped down onto the couch, exhausted and then suddenly groaned under the weight of Jehan.

"That was me." Grantaire told him.

"I know. I wanted to snuggle and since my usual cuddle-buddy isn't here…" Jehan trailed off.

"Now I get that job?" Grantaire said sarcastically.

"Yep." Jehan chirped and curled into Grantaire. "Thanks."

"For what?" Grantaire frowned.

"Bringing him home." Jehan nodded to Combeferre. "Bringing them both home."

"I didn't do that by myself. In fact, I screwed up a lot of it." Grantaire countered.

"You did a lot more than you think. I just wanted to say thanks." Jehan shrugged and nuzzled his nose into his shoulder. Grantaire pulled him close and rested his head on Jehan's. Jehan ended up falling asleep on him.

By the time eleven rolled around, people were thinking about going home, after all they had school too, and Courfeyrac returned. He looked a little like he'd been crying but he looked happy enough.

"You okay?" Combeferre asked immediately.

Courfeyrac nodded and saw Jehan and smiled a gooey smile. Courfeyrac ran his fingers through Jehan's hair and Jehan kissed Courfeyrac's wrist.

Oh so this is what Musichetta meant by Courfeyrac and Jehan were mad about each other. Jehan got off Grantaire, thankfully, as his legs were falling asleep, and he stood up. Courfeyrac bid them all goodnight, gave each and every one tight hugs and they all showered him with kisses and said any variance of I love you, you're wonderful, I miss you, and I'm glad you're home.

Then everyone went home, finally hopeful that things were starting to look up.

School seemed inconsequential compared to his joy at Enjolras's recovery. His classes went fast, since he wasn't really paying attention, but he got his notes and homework and when he was done, he went to the hospital. Enjolras wasn't in her room.

He nearly panicked but he remembered to ask someone and not just assume something had happened.

"She's not in ICU anymore. She was stable enough to be moved to a private room." The receptionist informed him and he got her new room number.

He was so glad to see Enjolras out of the ICU and the private room seemed to be very nice. He wasn't sure if Daddy's money was buying it or this hospital was just really nice. The room was a little larger than the ICU room, the walls weren't glass, but the door was wide. He opened it and saw Enjolras still hooked up to many machines but not as many as before. The intubation tube was missing and she simply had oxygen fed to her through her nose. As if an overnight miracle had happened, she looked so much better. She was still sweating but it had stopped pouring down her face and faded to a few rivulets at her hairline. Her skin shined like he knew it to when she smiled, and her position wasn't so stiff and harsh. She looked much more relaxed, with her arm across her stomach. If he didn't know, he would've said she was simply asleep. Sebastien and Annette were missing but he was just glad for the privacy. He wanted to talk to her.

"Hey. It's me again. I'm so proud of you. I knew you could beat this. I knew it in my heart. I know that sounds weird but I did. I couldn't fathom the world if you were dead. I wouldn't want to live in it. Don't worry, not suicidal, but I'd get worse and probably die of an alcohol overdose. But that doesn't matter. You're getting better. You look a lot better too. You don't look so… dead. You look so alive. At least a lot more alive than you did. I don't know if you can hear me but I hope you can. Come back to us. I now that sounds super cliché and kind of stupid but we miss you. We need you. I need you. You don't seem to be hearing me but oh well. Do you want me to read to you some more? I accidentally took the book home with me. I think you'd want to hear it. I hope so anyway. It'll pass the time."

So he brought the book back out of his backpack and opened to chapter four and started reading.

Chapter ten his phone rang.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Hey, Taire. You with her right now?" Combeferre asked.

"Yeah. You should see her. She looks so much better, I can't believe it." Grantaire smiled.

"I saw her this morning before I went to class. Her parents there?" Combeferre inquired.

"No." Grantaire replied.

"Must be working. I'm working the night shift at the hospital so if anyone calls, I'm forwarding them to you. Just thought I'd tell you." Combeferre stated.

Grantaire could tell the other meaning behind Combeferre's words. He was telling him that he had gone back to school and was doing the things he was supposed to in order to pass. These past three weeks must have been hell on his grades. But if anyone could go missing for three weeks and still get an A, it was Combeferre.

"Text me when you're home safe, okay? Don't care what time it is. Just text me." Grantaire tried.

"You got it." From his voice, Combeferre was smiling before he hung up.

Then he realized his words. Night shift at the hospital. Night shift. He peaked at his phone for the time and visiting hours were almost over.

"Don't tell me we can't kick you out either." A new nurse, a male nurse, groaned. He was average height, small build, with on his tan face. Either he was really tan or perhaps he was of Middle Eastern descent, Grantaire wasn't sure. But the disapproving expression was clear on his face. "I heard about that med student kid back in ICU."

"Oh no, sir, I just lost track of time. I was reading to her." Grantaire held up the book in defense.

His expression softened and he said, "Visiting hours is almost over."

"All right, sir. Good night." Grantaire bid and the nurse left. He kissed Enjolras's forehead good night, stuffed the book back into his backpack and went home.

For some reason, he slept like absolute shit that night. He kept waking up from a nightmare he couldn't remember, drenched in sweat and feeling lost. Every time he tried to go back to sleep that feeling would return and he'd be wide awake. Right before seven, he gave up on sleeping and checked his phone. At six thirty, Combeferre had texted him he was home safe and he texted back that he needed to get some sleep now.

He showered, shaved and dressed. He had only gotten a few hours of sleep but the shower and the coffee he just made helped wake him up. He finished his homework for the week and sighed. It was only eight and he didn't have class until noon. Usually he opened on Tuesdays. He would get up early, go to class, do his homework and pass out because he usually opened on Wednesdays too. But now he was bored with nothing to do. He thought about visiting Enjolras, but he already planned on doing that after class. He didn't think anyone would mind. Well, she certainly wouldn't mind if he came early. After a quick check online, the staff wouldn't mind. Visiting hours began at eight.

So at about nine, he arrived at the hospital and Sebastien and Annette were once again missing. They probably felt more comfortable working now that their daughter was safer now. Being in a normal room and no more tube down her throat gave them a lot of hope. He brought the book out again. He began reading from chapter ten.

"Oh hello, Grantaire. I didn't expect to see you here so early." Annette's voice surprised him a little while later.

He jumped and she conveyed a silent apology. He was almost thankful for her interruption. The book was fascinating but reading it aloud nearly sent him to sleep.

"I couldn't sleep and since I don't have class for a while I thought I might come here." Grantaire tried to stifle a yawn.

Annette smiled at him. "It's very sweet of you."

Grantaire smiled back.

"Where's Monsieur?" Grantaire asked.

"He's grabbing us some breakfast. I can have him grab you some." She offered but he shook his head.

"I've already had breakfast." He replied.

"I really missed her yesterday and since I still have a lot of work to do, I brought work here." Annette held up her laptop case that Grantaire hadn't noticed before. She set up and got to work, but she stayed close to her daughter. Sebastien joined them soon after.

"Hello, Grantaire." Sebastien nodded to him.

He nodded back and hid a yawn. Sebastien opened his mouth but Annette shook her head. Probably ask about why he was so tired or here so early. He held up the book to them.

"Do you mind if I keep reading?" He asked.

Sebastien's face softened. "Of course. Go ahead."

So he began again. He scooted close to her and put his head on his hand. About halfway through chapter twelve, he closed his eyes and for some reason, maybe it was the book, maybe it was his own exhaustion, he didn't open them again.

Someone was stroking his hair. Nimble fingers caressed through his hair, but it wasn't Musichetta. Her fingers were about this small but held a different touch. It wasn't Cosette either. She didn't do it that way. These fingers were gentle but curled at the end to gently card through his curls. Maybe it was Annette, he couldn't remember anyone doing this particular style to him before.

"Madame?" He asked softly, trying to figure out his surroundings.

"According to the note they left on your face, they went to get lunch."

He had to be dreaming. He knew that voice but it couldn't be possible. Still, he raised his head and opened his eyes. He followed the arm up to a chest clad in a hospital gown and to an exhausted smile but an awake pair of stunning blue eyes he was afraid he'd never see again.

He leaned forward and kissed her, trying to show how he felt instead of mere words which couldn't possibly be good enough. She responded gently, he felt his nose bump the oxygen thing (nasal cannula he thought but don't quote him) and he heard her heart monitor pick up so he pulled back, not wanting to hurt her. He smiled at her and almost wanted to cry tears of joy.

She just smiled at him and said, "Hey."

* * *

**And there we go. I pounded this out with free time I didn't even really have so I'm sorry I'll update as soon as I can but don't expect it for a little while.**

**Dear Guest, I personally want to say something to you. If you're not this guest, then you don't have to continue. You can if you want to though. Guest, thank you for your kind words. It makes me feel so loved. Also, I know you what you're going through. I was in a place one time when I thought I would never have friends. Let alone friends like the ones I'm writing here. But I promise you, it will come. Everyone has the potential to have friends. From what you've written me, you seem like a kind and gentle soul who gives their love freely. And one day people will see that. It took me a long time to realize I had the potential to have friends but I pushed them away because I thought I wasn't good enough for their love. You will have friends. And if you need someone to talk to, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. You've got a friend in me.**


	19. Chapter 19

He burst into tears. He couldn't control it, and Enjolras just cooed and wiped his tears away.

"I'm so glad you're safe. How did you get out? Has your sister been arrested?" Enjolras peppered him with questions but all he could do was cry.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to talk.

"We're all safe. That's a long story and not yet." Grantaire answered.

"But you're safe? They didn't hurt you?" She demanded.

"I got a tad hurt but it's nothing, I'm fine. I'm safe." He kissed her hand and up her arm, tears still streaming down his face.

She wrapped her hand around his head and brought him close again. She kissed the tears off his face before kissing him passionately and when he heard her parents come back, he broke them apart and she nodded, catching the unspoken message that her parents were here and _didn't_ know they were together. He stepped out to get a doctor, and saw her parents rapidly approaching. He ran to them.

"She's awake." Was all he needed to say. They ran into her room and gushed over her. She allowed herself to be hugged nearly to the death and he fetched a doctor. Doctor Torres came over and he stepped out for a minute.

He sent out a group message.

**To Combeferre/Courfeyrac/Jehan/Musichetta/Joly/Bousset/Marius/Cosette/Eponine/Bahorel/Feuilly**: EVERYONE DROP EVERYTHING! SKIP CLASS! COME TO THE HOSPITAL IMMEDIATELY! SHE'S AWAKE!

He knew everyone would do as he said. They had been waiting for three agonizing weeks for Enjolras to get better. It was about fucking time. He wiped his eyes furiously after allowing himself to cry for a little bit. He grinned and popped back in and Enjolras had been fussed over and he could tell she hated being the center of attention.

"Well, you seem as healthy as a gunshot victim survivor can be for the moment. I'll have a nurse check on you every few hours for the next couple days and we'll see how you heal from there." Doctor Torres informed her.

"I hate to ask but I'm kind of cold and the blanket seems a little thin." Enjolras blushed, running her hand on the blanket.

"Unfortunately, you still do have a fever although it broke a couple nights ago, you haven't recovered fully and I don't want to exacerbate it." Doctor Torres frowned.

"All right. Thank you." Enjolras blushed further.

"Everyone's coming over. I told them to drop everything." Grantaire announced.

Enjolras's eyes narrowed. "I think I heard her right as a Tuesday," At her parents' nod she continued, "It's a school day. Everyone has class. Don't tell them to skip class."

"Already did. We've been waiting for three weeks and I'm not making them wait any longer. Besides, our professors will understand. Your shooting was all over campus for a little while." Grantaire shot back, grinning.

Enjolras pouted.

"You'd drop everything to come see us." Grantaire added and when she frowned, he'd knew he'd won.

"Fine." She muttered.

Annette then smothered her in another hug. Sebastien clapped him on the back and grinned.

Combeferre was the first to arrive, as Grantaire expected. You could see the pure relief in his eyes when he looked at her. He ran to her and attacked her with a strong hug. She clung to him and Grantaire felt a pang of jealousy before stifling it roughly. She had literally just come from kissing him. She chose him. Remember that.

Marius and Courfeyrac showed up next. Courfeyrac joined the hug that Combeferre hadn't ended and Marius waited for the room on Enjolras's hospital bed. When they finally broke apart, Grantaire subtly pushed Marius towards her and he gave her a cautious hug. Then she looked right at Grantaire and shook her head. She'd seen that. A blush crept onto his cheeks. She grinned.

Joly and Bousset were next about ten minutes later. Bousset slipped as he came into the room, Grantaire and Combeferre helped him up and Joly bee-lined past him and immediately went to checking her over.

Grantaire could tell that Enjolras was uncomfortable but she allowed herself to be fussed over because she knew it would help Joly. Once Joly was satisfied, he gave her a huge hug. Bousset waited until his boyfriend pulled back before he gave her his own hug.

Cosette, Eponine and Musichetta arrived next. After them, Bahorel and Feuilly showed up and once she'd been hugged by every single Ami, she addressed them all.

"I'm so glad to see all of you. I love you all, and if you have class after this, you better go. I know you do, Fey. I have that class with you. I am not an excuse."

A storm of laughter broke from the group. Courfeyrac blushed and tugged at the long-sleeves of his shirt. If he looked, he could see the bandages but he knew Enjolras wouldn't look. Enjolras would have no reason to look. So he gave Courfeyrac's hand a quick squeeze. Courfeyrac gave him a grateful smile.

"I've been taking notes for you, so don't worry." Courfeyrac dismissed.

Enjolras nodded, satisfied.

"Okay, I was willing to let a few people slide but this is too much. There're fifteen people in this room! Out!" The same nurse from last night ordered.

"R, Ferre, Fey, stay here. The rest of you get to class! Or work. Or whatever." Enjolras commanded, using her leader voice.

He relished in what she said, knowing she was awake and talking to say such things again.

After many kisses, hugs and declarations of love, the room was empty the people she had asked for and her parents.

"You two too! Mom, Dad, I love you but they have things to go do and you are obviously going to be here for a while so just pop out for a little bit." Enjolras told her parents.

Her mom chuckled breathily and grabbed her father's arm and led him out.

She patted the bed and Grantaire sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her.

"I'm grateful the nurse showed up. I'm starting to get really tired." She put her hand on her chest, right where she'd been shot, frowning deeply.

"Maybe we should call the nurse, get you some meds." Combeferre offered.

"No. I have things to say and I'm going to say them before I fall asleep again." Enjolras declared.

"All right. But then, I'm getting the nurse and getting you some pain meds. That's why they exist. To help with the pain." Combeferre enunciated.

"All right. Courfeyrac, I'm serious about the notes. I've got three weeks of work to make up." Enjolras started.

"I'm sure our teachers will give you time. Don't stress about school." Courfeyrac tried.

"I'm always stressed about school. Next subject. Combeferre, report on the Amis." Enjolras stated.

"All right, Madame President. We're all as fine as we can be. There were a couple crises but Grantaire handled them as best as he could." Combeferre gave him a small smile, ready for Enjolras's demand of where was he. Grantaire had his answer right on his tongue.

"I see. But they're handled?" Enjolras pressed.

"They're handled." Grantaire answered.

She nodded decisively.

"All right. Now, shoo. He and I have a lot of things to talk about." She waved and Combeferre and Courfeyrac kissed her before heading out.

"You're exhausted." He accused once they had shut the door.

"Just a little bit." She dismissed.

"Oh my God. It's been one day. It hasn't even been one day. It's been a few hours. It hasn't even been that! You have to let yourself heal." He insisted.

"I've missed three weeks. I can handle this. I'm only a little tired. I have things to do-" She started.

"Remember sophomore year? You were only a _little_ sick. You had other things to do. You got _pneumonia_. If you don't stop and take a break, you will get sicker. You nearly died once. I'm not letting you kill yourself again." He pressed.

She blushed. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"Excuse me?" The nurse who kicked them out popped his head in. "Your friend said you needed some medication for the pain."

She shook her head while he nodded.

"What's your pain, scale of one to ten?" The nurse asked with a no-nonsense voice.

"Maybe two or three?" She shrugged but after an intense glare, she sighed and answered, "Okay. More like a seven."

"So your friend was right. He told me you don't like accepting help. Well, unfortunately, I get paid to help you so you're stuck with me." He teased as he injected the syringe into her IV.

She chuckled lightly and her head fell onto Grantaire's shoulder.

"This should begin working in about ten to fifteen minutes." The nurse said and headed out.

She curled up closer to him.

"You're being awfully cuddly." Grantaire noticed.

"I'm allowed." She mumbled.

"I'm not protesting." He pressed his lips to her forehead gently.

"I hate having to slow down. I have things to do!" She repeated.

"Right now, the only thing you have to do is heal." He countered.

"When did you become Combeferre?" She pouted.

He just smiled. "You should get some rest."

"Again with the medical advice. I can take care of myself." She groaned.

"This coming from the woman who just lied to the nurse." He cocked an eyebrow.

She had the good-nature to blush.

"Please. For me." He tried.

"You are not on a high enough boyfriend level to try that." She murmured.

"Duly noted." He replied, amused that she has boyfriend levels. Made sense.

"Sorry." She stated, not exactly sounding apologetic but he could understand her meaning.

"It's okay. We've only been dating a few weeks. It's understandable." He dismissed.

"Thanks." She sighed.

"Just so we're on the same page, I can kiss you, snuggle, and take you on dates. I cannot make heartfelt pleas to try to get you to listen to me. We good?" He asked.

"If there's anything else, I'll tell you. There probably will be more things but I can't think of them at the moment." She yawned.

He knew the meds were beginning to kick in. Morphine put you to sleep pretty quickly.

"Don't worry. We got time." He savored those words. Time was something he never thought he'd have with her again.

"All right. I think I'll lie down for a little bit." He pulled away from her as she settled back on onto her bed. She lay on her side, pressing her hand to her chest again.

"You okay?" He asked, bringing him directly to her line of sight, immediately thinking maybe he oughta get the nurse, even if she didn't want him to.

"I got shot in the chest, correct?" She countered.

He nodded, frowning.

"Well, I would suppose my chest should be just a tad sore for a little bit." She said sarcastically.

He glared at her half-heartedly. "Get some sleep or I'm sending Combeferre up here."

"No need to be cruel, R. That's my specialty." She teased.

He smiled, kissed her forehead and she pulled him in for another kiss. Well, pulled was the wrong word. She had tugged on his shirt with barely enough force to alert him that she wanted him closer and he did the rest.

"You're very romantic in a hospital bed." He noticed with a grin.

"Ah romantic schromantic. This is the only time we'll get when my parents are here." She dismissed and he laughed.

"I can wait until your parents leave." He offered.

"_I_ don't want to." She refused, sounding like a petulant child.

"All right." He laughed.

He kissed her goodbye and waited by the door for her to fall back asleep. She seemed to settle quickly and so he headed down. Her parents, Combeferre and Courfeyrac were waiting for him.

"You can go back up but she's asleep." He told them.

Her parents nodded but went up anyways.

"I swear I have no idea how she ended up so insane. Her parents seem to be regular people." Grantaire muttered.

"What happened?" Combeferre frowned.

"She lied to the nurse." Grantaire replied.

Combeferre groaned. "Saw that coming. I swear it's like she likes being sick. Otherwise, she'd stop and let herself get better instead of getting sicker and sicker."

"You going to go to class?" Grantaire asked Courfeyrac.

"Yeah but I don't have to leave for another thirty minutes." Courfeyrac nodded.

"Got it. You going to class?" Grantaire asked Combeferre.

"I've got hospital hours today. I'll head over in a little bit. What about you?" Combeferre explained.

"I've missed class today. I'll email my professors, they'll understand. I don't have to tell them I fell asleep in her hospital room." Grantaire admitted.

Combeferre smiled and shook his head.

"Don't throw stones boy." Grantaire warned.

"No, I was thinking, damn he's ending up like me." Combeferre teased.

The three laughed.

_I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Called a police and a fireman  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Make a dragon wanna retire man  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Say my name you know who I am  
I'm too hot (hot damn)  
Am I bad 'bout that money, break it down_

"Who's that?" Combeferre asked, while Courfeyrac started dancing.

"Jehan." Grantaire both answered the phone and Combeferre.

"Hey R, you got class today?" Jehan rolled his name.

"It's over by now." Grantaire answered.

"You wanna come over and be my muse?" Jehan tried.

"I'd love to." Grantaire smiled gently.

Courfeyrac frowned and Grantaire held up a hand. "I'll head over right now, okay?"

"Sure. See you soon." Jehan hung up.

"He just wanted me to come over and be his poetic muse." Grantaire flaunted.

Courfeyrac huffed.

Combeferre stared at him. "He can't make all his assignments about you."

"He could." Courfeyrac muttered.

"You want to come with?" Grantaire offered dryly.

"No. I got class. I already got a lot to make up." Courfeyrac sighed dejectedly.

"I think you can get a doctor's note." Grantaire said and Courfeyrac nodded, and then perked up.

"Oh yeah, I need to do that. See ya." Courfeyrac walked off.

"Tell Jehan I said hi." Combeferre gave him a goodbye hug and he drove over to Jehan's.

"Hey dude. Thanks for coming." Jehan let him after his knock.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Grantaire asked unsurely. He'd never seen a poetic muse before.

"Honestly, just talk to me. I can handle it from there." Jehan shrugged.

"I think I should tell you that Courfeyrac was very upset that you chose me over him." Grantaire teased.

"Oh. Well, I'm only supposed to use one muse per poem, it's more challenging that way," Jehan mocked his teacher's voice. "But I've already used him for three and honestly I don't want to use him again. Otherwise, I think I'm going to get caught and fail."

"She fails you if you use a muse more than once?" Grantaire asked, incredulous.

"Not the class. Just the assignment." Jehan explained.

"Hey, did you ever make that appointment?" Grantaire remembered.

"From the list of clinics you gave me? Yeah I did. I was talking with Courfeyrac yesterday, and he mentioned the name of one of the clinics you gave me as the one the hospital is sending him too. So I called, and they had an appointment like five minutes after Courf's so we figured we could carpool." Jehan grinned.

"Good. And you're covered insurance wise?" Grantaire inquired.

"I asked them about that. Apparently, they hired a legal expert for this very thing. It's a special kind of clinic that gets government funding and must be covered by state medical and whatever loophole they can find to help people not have to pay as much they do. They're good people." Jehan smiled.

"I'm glad. Which is it?" Grantaire questioned.

"The one over in Belle Mina." Jehan answered.

"Got it. You two ever need a ride, just ask." Grantaire promised.

"Thank you, but I think we'll be good." Jehan replied.

Grantaire smiled.

Jehan's eyes widened. "Don't move. Don't even stop smiling."

He froze, and waited while Jehan scribbled something down for a little bit.

"Okay, you're good you can move." Jehan chirped after a little while.

Grantaire relaxed, rubbing his cheeks.

"You wanna hear?" Jehan asked.

Grantaire nodded happily.

"All right.

Smile formed from tender care  
Help given though unaware  
His true love may be far away  
But in friends is where his heart will stay  
Love is within our grasp  
As long as we have his hands to clasp  
For he gives his strength when we are weary  
And still he shows his smile clearly

I mean it's just the first draft but-"

Grantaire grabbed Jehan's arm and pulled him into a tight hug.

Jehan patted his back and it took a little while for Grantaire to clear his eyes and release him.

"It was wonderful." Grantaire muttered.

"Yeesh, do I need to grab a hanky?" Jehan teased.

"Shut up, flower boy." Grantaire swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair.

"You okay?" Jehan asked.

"Yeah I'm okay. I'm great." Grantaire smiled. "Enjolras is awake, Courfeyrac is out of the hospital, and Combeferre is back. What else do I need to be happy?"

Jehan frowned. "I don't know. You just seem a little off."

"Okay I really liked the poem. I was touched." Grantaire admitted.

"I guess I'm just seeing things." Jehan shook his head.

"Don't dismiss your instincts. This may be the adrenaline wearing off, or something." Grantaire tried.

"I suppose." Jehan muttered.

Grantaire groaned as he sat down on the couch. He patted the seat next to him and Jehan curled into him.

"How are you feeling?" Jehan asked.

"I'm just tired." He answered lightly.

"You sure?" Jehan pressed.

"Yeah. Didn't sleep well last night. Oh shit I was supposed to write my professors." Grantaire shot up.

"Relax. Use my laptop." Jehan retrieved said instrument and he logged into his email and typed up an apology while relaying what has happened with Enjolras.

"Should I say I'm her boyfriend? Would that help?" Grantaire frowned, staring at the screen.

"They sticklers?" Jehan questioned.

"Not exactly but when they said they want an excused absence they want it to be excused." Grantaire muttered.

"Huh?" Jehan asked.

"Like doctor's notes and shit like that." Grantaire explained.

"Well, I think this counts. Besides, there's not a professor at school who doesn't know about Enjolras, and saying you're friends should be good enough." Jehan shrugged.

"All right." Grantaire sent the emails out.

"Why did you not want to tell them?" Jehan inquired.

"Because with Enjolras, I don't know where she is on keeping things public. I mean, the only reason you guys knew we were dating was because Combeferre accidentally outed us." Grantaire answered.

"So she's ashamed of you?" Jehan frowned.

"Oh no, God, no. No." Grantaire defended. "She's proud of me. I know that because she's told me. On your advice, actually. She's not ashamed of me. I think she just wants everything to be private. She's not a public person."

"She's a very public person." Jehan started.

"No, she's not." Grantaire interrupted. "The stage persona is. The leader of the Amis is. But Enjolras herself, not really. I mean, we should guess by her parents. Two people very different from us and there's a reason for that. There are so many layers to that woman."

"What is she, an ogre?" Jehan teased.

"Okay, don't make any more Shrek references. Enjolras may kill you. She hates that movie." Grantaire laughed.

"What? Why? I thought with a green male protagonist, who's not human, the beauty is more than skin deep message, the hilarity and drama. It's a great movie." Jehan protested.

"Well," Grantaire did his best Aaron Eckheart impression, "You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

Jehan laughed.

"Now _that_ was a good movie." Grantaire offered.

"That it was." Jehan agreed.

They fell into comfortable silence.

"Do you think she's awake now?" Grantaire asked, about ten minutes later.

"Dude, you've only been over here for thirty minutes." Jehan laughed.

"Sorry." Grantaire blushed.

"You got any homework?" Jehan asked.

"A little." Grantaire admitted.

"Go home and do it. I've got what I need." Jehan shoved him lightly.

"Oh really? Sheesh, I used to have such high standards for myself." Grantaire teased and Jehan laughed.

"Well, you once slept with Courfeyrac. You have no standards." Jehan shot back.

"I didn't think you'd ever say that." Grantaire frowned.

"Why? He says the same thing." Jehan matched him.

"I know but I just never thought you'd say that." Grantaire shrugged.

"Well, Courfeyrac can sleep with whoever he wants." Jehan's voice was almost a growl.

Then Grantaire remembered that Courfeyrac and Jehan were crazy about each other, but neither knew it yet, according to Musichetta.

"Never mind. I gotta get home." Grantaire shook his head and grabbed his stuff.

"You sure?" Jehan pressed.

"Yeah. I think I've been spending too much time with Enjolras." Grantaire smiled and Jehan hugged him goodbye.

The next day, right after class, he headed straight for the hospital. He went up to her room and found someone else in her bed. She had nuzzled into Courfeyrac's neck and had curled into him with his arm wrapped around her waist.

"Hey, Taire." Courfeyrac smiled sleepily at him.

Grantaire cocked an eyebrow.

"I popped by to tell her what she'd missed in class and stuff. She saw the bandages under my shirt and I couldn't keep it from her. We cried for a bit, I'm sure I still show it, and then we ended up like this. She fell asleep a little while ago but I didn't want to wake her." Courfeyrac explained.

"How long have you been here?" Grantaire laughed.

"What time is it now?" Courfeyrac asked.

"About two thirty." Grantaire answered.

Courfeyrac frowned. "Long time."

Grantaire chuckled.

"My arm is numb." Courfeyrac pursed his lips.

"Do you want me to get her off? Or at least attempt to?" Grantaire inquired dryly.

"Normally, I would say no but I have homework I really need to do. I'm already still pretty behind." Courfeyrac sighed.

"All right." Grantaire got on the other side of the bed and gently slid his hands underneath her back and legs and lifted slowly, methodically. Courfeyrac, with the speed of an inchworm, pulled himself free of her and got off the bed. Grantaire set her down and Enjolras frowned.

"Where's my personal space heater?" She murmured.

Grantaire and Courfeyrac grinned. Courfeyrac always had hot skin. If you were cold, you needed a good, strong hug from Courfeyrac. And since Enjolras almost never remembered her jacket, she got many of those on Combeferre's orders.

She opened her eyes and frowned. "When did you get over there?"

"I've got homework. R is here to keep you company." Courfeyrac kissed her and she whined, "I'm cold."

"I take it her fever has yet to subside." Grantaire sighed.

Courfeyrac shook his head. "It's not very high but still, the doctor doesn't want to take any chances."

Grantaire nodded.

Enjolras whined again.

"I swear she is the worst patient ever. I feel so bad for her nurses and doctors." Courfeyrac muttered.

"That's something we all share." Grantaire agreed.

Courfeyrac squeezed his shoulder and headed out.

"You took away my space heater." Enjolras frowned, looking almost betrayed.

"Your space heater has homework. I thought you were not an excuse." Grantaire repeated her earlier words.

"Don't quote me to me." Enjolras snapped but there wasn't any real heat behind it.

"I'd ask if you want coffee but I don't think they'll allow me to give you any." Grantaire sat on the side of her bed.

"No. Solid food is off the table and so is any caffeinated drink. Water and orange juice is all I get." She pouted.

"Well, that is something I cannot change." Grantaire apologized.

"I think there is one thing I really need to champion for change in hospitals." She started.

"What?" He asked, unsurprised she couldn't let go of her 'protest' ways even to heal.

"There needs to be something to do while you're in here. I'm so bored all the time." She demanded.

"You only woke up yesterday! How can you get bored?" He was floored.

"There's no books, there's no computers, there's no games. No nothing." She sulked.

"There's a TV right there." He pointed.

"Uh, no thank you. Last night one of the nurses turned it on and then put it on the Briefcase. I refuse to watch that dumb show. It's putting one poor family against another poor family. Its exploitation disguised as entertainment!" She shouted.

"Easy. You want to get sedated again?" He put his hands up.

"No. What I want is to have decent entertainment here. I don't want to be bored to death." She pouted.

Grantaire's phone rang.

"Hey 'Ferre." He answered.

"Hey. You're with Enjolras, right? I was texting Courfeyrac and he said you showed up and I wanna know if she's still awake." Combeferre asked.

"Yeah, she's here. You want her?" Grantaire inquired.

"That'd be nice."

He handed the phone to her.

"Yeah… hey… what…what do you mean you couldn't find it… have you looked… I'm sorry, I know you tried… I don't know what I could've done with it… yeah… and it wasn't under my bed… yeah… thanks anyways… I'll talk to you later… bye."

"What'd you lose?" He asked as Enjolras gave back his phone.

"My copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. I like to read it before I go to sleep and apparently Combeferre couldn't find it in my room." She pouted.

Grantaire blushed. "Oh. I have it." He pulled it out of his backpack. "I think your parents thought it was mine and put it in my bag when I fell asleep reading it."

"You were reading it?" He handed it to her.

"I was reading it to you, yeah." He admitted, the blush getting deeper.

She smiled at him. "That's very sweet."

He didn't answer her. She scooted over to him and laid on his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Speaking of, where are your parents?" He asked.

"At work. I sent them home. Mom needed the rest and Dad… I just wanted him to be with Mom." She explained.

"You mean you're already tired of your parents?" He chuckled.

"I get tired of my parents three hours after I get off the train for Christmas holidays. I'm just lucky that I don't have to go home for summer anymore." She admitted.

He cocked an eyebrow.

"I love my parents. I really do. But I prefer to be doing things that matter, not chatting about who was wearing what to the debutante ball."

"You go to debutante balls?" He chuckled.

"I used to, yeah. That one will stay with you." She ordered.

He nodded, still snickering.

"They're all awful by the way. I always hated them. I'm pretty sure everyone hates them, they just do it to show their superiority over other people. I've got better manners, I've got a more expensive dress, I've got these shoes _and_ this purse." Her voice went high to mocking status.

"Did you ever do that? Brag about something better?" He asked.

"Sometimes. There were girls in the debutantes that I hated, and I mean _hated_, and I put up with it for a while because I could always have dresses that were at least five hundred dollars more than theirs were." She blushed.

"Oh I'm sure they knew that." He laughed.

"I made sure they did." She said playfully and they dissolved into laughter which was interrupted by her frowning deeply and putting her hand on her chest.

"Still sore?" He asked sympathetically.

"Like you wouldn't believe." She gritted out.

"You know, you came really close to dying. You almost did once. Don't do that again." He said, rubbing his nose on her hair.

"Well, at least I know that if I had died, I would've died for a good cause." She kissed her shoulder.

"No. You're not allowed to die for me. Ever. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars." He stated.

She just smiles at him and yawned.

"You tired?" He asked immediately.

"Just comfortable." She lay her head back down.

He rubbed his arm down her back and sighed. The serenity they had ended when Grantaire's stomach growled loudly.

"Have you eaten lunch?" She demanded.

"No. Usually I eat lunch on campus but today I skipped it. I wasn't all that hungry." He shrugged.

"Go get some food. I'll not have you starve." She shooed him away.

"All right, all right." He kissed her gently and grabbed his backpack, as it held his wallet. He walked down to the cafeteria, got a little food, decided not to tempt her with solid food and coffee and ate downstairs. Once he finished, he headed back up to her room. She was lying on her stomach with her gown almost off her body, just covering her front. He found Jehan at her back, with a cascade of washable markers and a wet paper towel.

"Hey… babe." Grantaire said unsurely.

Enjolras turned her head.

"Don't move." Jehan stated.

"Sorry." She moved back to her original position.

"What are you doing?" Grantaire asked.

"I'm drawing. What does it look like I'm doing?" Jehan laughed.

"I see that." Grantaire peeked at the drawing. From the outline Jehan had created, he saw feathers and large appendages.

"Isn't this usually done on someone's stomach? Wouldn't that be easier?" Grantaire asked.

"They won't let me sleep on my stomach. Granted, it's not always comfortable but this is the best compromise I could get." She frowned.

"Okay sweetie." He fought to keep his laughter inside him.

Enjolras let out a high-pitched whine and buried her head in her pillow.

"Stop moving!" Jehan demanded.

"Sorry Jehan." She murmured through the pillow.

"So what now?" Grantaire inquired lightly.

"I could use some help." Jehan offered a green marker and he hopped back on the bed, and started on her right ankle. He decided on doing some leaves and vines wrapped around her ankles and next were her wrists. When he got to her wrists, he looked over at her and saw her sound asleep. He just shook his head and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"So you decided to come visit her today too?" Grantaire's amused voice unsilenced the room.

"Like any of us can really stay away." Jehan laughed.

"No we can't." Grantaire smiled.

They worked in silence, Jehan creating massive wings that spread across her chest and Grantaire did more simple drawings around her ankles, wrists and then her hands and feet. When he finished, he pulled back and watched Jehan work.

"You know, if you weren't so into poetry, you could really be an artist." Grantaire praised.

Jehan grinned and blushed. "I'm not as good as you though."

"No one's as good as me." Grantaire teased.

Jehan shoved him lightly.

"Do you want me to help you or do you want to do this on your own?" Grantaire asked.

"Doesn't matter." Jehan shrugged.

So Grantaire just let Jehan work. It took a little while but eventually, Jehan finished and her wings were black gold tinged with red, feathers that you could touch and shade cast at just the right angle.

"They're beautiful, Jehan." Grantaire smiled.

"Here. Move. I'm going to take some pictures so Enjolras can see them." Grantaire scooted over and let Jehan snap as many pictures as he wanted.

"Send some to me, too." Grantaire asked.

Jehan nodded.

Jehan and Grantaire had just sat with her, Grantaire coming over to her and running his fingers lightly up and down her thigh and Jehan started writing something down, whether for his poetry class or for himself Grantaire wasn't sure. Enjolras woke after a little while.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Grantaire smiled.

"Not morning." Enjolras grumbled.

"Don't be grumpy with me." Grantaire replied.

"I need coffee. I always have coffee after naps." Enjolras huffed.

"No coffee for you." Grantaire said, trying to mimic the Seinfeld sketch of 'No soup for you'.

"Healthy mind, healthy body, healthy coffee." She mumbled.

"That- okay, I can't get you coffee so stop asking for it." Grantaire fought to keep his laughter down. What she had said made almost no sense to him.

She huffed.

"Here. This is the finished product of what I did to your back." Jehan offered his phone and Enjolras cooed.

"Oh Jehan this is beautiful. I love it."

"I'm glad you like it." Jehan blushed.

She just stared at it and smiled.

"You know Grantaire did your hands and feet." Jehan deflected.

She then switched to admiring that, and kissed Grantaire to show her admiration.

"I'm glad I could inspire you." She whispered into his ear.

"Do you want me to leave? Am I treading on your moment?" Jehan asked, shoving his supplies into his bag.

Enjolras jumped slightly and blushed deeply.

"I kind of forgot you were here."

Jehan smiled and took his phone back. "I sent them to Combeferre and told him to save them. It's cool. I should go."

"You don't have to go." Grantaire protested.

"No, I got homework anyways." Jehan excused and gave Enjolras a kiss goodbye before heading out.

"Did we chase him out?" Enjolras asked, frowning.

"I think he wanted to give us some privacy." Grantaire answered.

She nodded.

"Now, where were we?" He leaned back to kiss her again but only went about halfway. He wanted to make sure she was okay with this. He knew her answer was yes when she closed the distance. He cupped her chin as she snaked her arms around his waist. She pressed forward, trying to deepen the kiss.

"You guys are so lucky I am not her parents."

Combeferre was shaking his head at them, but Grantaire knew to look for the pain in his eyes. Surprisingly, he didn't find much.

Enjolras was panting, and he immediately turned to her. She had her hand on her chest, with that same frown as before, and her breath sounded ragged.

Combeferre went to her and snapped his fingers and jerked his thumb back, signaling that Grantaire was to get the nurse. Grantaire started to follow his orders.

"It's your fault. You startled me." Enjolras hissed at Combeferre.

"I'm sorry." Combeferre apologized. "But- what is that?"

Grantaire stopped at the doorway at Combeferre's icy tone and followed Combeferre's finger to To Kill a Mockingbird.

"Oh I brought that a little while ago. I was reading it to her." Grantaire answered.

"You couldn't have called me and told me that? I spent an hour searching through her room for that damn book!" Combeferre growled.

"I'm sorry! By the time I found out she wanted it, you'd already given up. By the way, she's still breathing funny." Enjolras's breathing pattern had not changed.

Combeferre waved him out, groaning. Grantaire got the nurse, who returned with medication and a strict warning for her to take it easy immediately. That meant that Combeferre and Grantaire were to be kicked out.

"But 'Ferre just got here." Enjolras protested.

"I'm sorry but respiratory problems are taken very seriously around here. You need rest. You'll need a helluva lot of rest to recover from this, whether you like this or not. So boys, shoo and lady, rest." The nurse said as he escorted them from the room. Grantaire only went back to get his backpack. (And perhaps steal a goodbye kiss.)

"Sorry boys, but I gotta make sure she doesn't have a respiratory attack." The nurse apologized.

"No problem. I get it. You look really familiar. Have we had any classes together?" Combeferre asked.

"No. I would've recognized that little blonde ball of anger following you if we had." The nurse shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I just could've sworn I've seen you before." Combeferre frowned.

"Don't think we've ever met before." The nurse shrugged. "Oh. Tell Eponine I say hi, though, if you can."

"Eponine?" Grantaire repeated.

"Eponine Thernadier? She was in here the other day but I didn't get a chance to talk to her. She and I have been friends since we were kids, but we lost touch when her parents lost their hotel and they had to move. It's nice to see she's doing so well." The nurse explained.

"I've seen you in Eponine's pictures on her phone." Combeferre had finally placed him.

"Yeah we were good friends before she moved. I'd like to reconnect with her." The nurse smiled.

"And your name is…" Combeferre trailed off.

"Montparnasse. Henri Montparnasse." He answered.

"Montparnasse? Like the city?" Grantaire asked.

Montparnasse nodded.

"Well, it's good to meet you." Grantaire shook his hand, followed by Combeferre. "We'll deliver your message. You'll probably see her come to visit Enjolras."

"Thanks. And by the way, I wouldn't drop by again today. Morphine has a bad habit of staying in a person's system a while, especially those who aren't used to it." Montparnasse advised.

They nodded and Combeferre texted Eponine said information. She then made him go back and get his number. Then they could go to their cars together.

"You doing okay? I didn't think anything could pull you away from her now." Grantaire asked.

"Yeah. When she finds out how much class I skipped, I'm dead. So my line of thinking is if I catch up on my homework before she gets released from the hospital, I'm safe. Well, _safer_." Combeferre admitted.

Grantaire chuckled. "As much as she hates being an excuse, I think she'll allow this one."

"I'm not testing that theory. She is dangerous and has access to many of my things." Combeferre deadpanned.

Grantaire just laughed.

* * *

**Okay here we go. I accidentally posted eighteen again, thanks Guest for pointing that out. So here is the correct chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, leave a review if you can, I'm starving so now I'm going to eat lunch. Bye, peeps!**


	20. Chapter 20

It took two and a half weeks for Enjolras to be released from the hospital. She wasn't back in perfect health, but she was well enough to be discharged. Although, if Grantaire was really honest, he wasn't entirely sure if Enjolras did some weaseling to get out of the hospital. She had really hated being in that place, especially since she had no privacy. She couldn't even go to the bathroom without someone knowing. So she was released, she signed all the forms and Combeferre had promised that if she got just a sneeze then he would haul her back as quick as he could. They had wanted to throw another party, but Combeferre wouldn't let them. He said it would cause too much stress on her body. Her mind, however, seemed to be active as ever. She was ever ready to get up, get going and start leading the Amis again. But her body couldn't keep up with her mind. She constantly had to lean on Combeferre in order to get around. Combeferre accompanied her to as many classes as he could, and if he couldn't he sent someone else to. Granted, she was still weak and she needed the help. It seemed like every time he saw her those first few days, they had all basically lived with one another since they saw each other so much, she needed help from Combeferre. She'd fall asleep on him just as often. She very begrudgingly accepted the help under the order that otherwise, she would not be allowed to return to her classes. However there was one thing that he didn't mind about this entire situation. He may or may not have received a stealthy Snapchat from Courfeyrac a picture of Enjolras looking like Grumpy Cat. If he did receive such a picture, then he would not have saved it to his computer. Of course not. What are you talking about?

But something else had started to begin after she was released from the hospital. Combeferre had started taking care of her, to be expected, but it seemed almost obsessive. She always seemed to be on his arm. He always held her close. Unfortunately, Grantaire couldn't help feeling jealous. Combeferre lived with her, he got everything about her already, why couldn't he share her with the rest of them? He knew logically that Combeferre was a medical student, he understood what happened to the body when it had been shot (as best as he could) and he could make sure she got back on her feet best. He wasn't hoarding her to himself, but sometimes he couldn't help it. Still, it wasn't like she had stopped dating him, and she certainly wasn't dating Combeferre. So he did his best to pour his jealousy into his sketches. He had no idea for any paintings though he drew a lot. Mostly now in the meetings, he just sat in the corner and sketched. Caricatures, calligraphy, and cartoons. Nothing of importance. Just doodles to practice. Doodles of nothing much. Nothing much of import.

He was nothing of import. He watched as Combeferre coddled and healed his girlfriend and stewed in jealousy, guilt and self-pity. Why would she want a guy like him? Why would anyone? After all, he got her shot. If he hadn't met her, she never would've been put into danger. Even if she had met him, if he hadn't kept his stupid last name Rachel wouldn't have found him. He was to blame for her being so injured she still needed Combeferre. She was so injured she could barely see him. She had been so injured, her brain hadn't quire recovered as well as they had hoped for. Her freaking out the day after she got home did little to assuage the guilt that had begun to develop in his stomach.

Since Enjolras chomping at the bit to get out and do something worthwhile, Combeferre allowed a meeting with someone who was guaranteed not to exacerbate her. Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Enjolras, as the three officers of the Les Amis, had been talking with Professor Muriel, the religious studies professor, about becoming the new academic advisor now that that slot was empty. Muriel had agreed, after all it was little more than title, and she had been open to discussing how to incorporate other religions into the religious liberty protests and how they could be represented in allies and friends. He had been thrilled that Enjolras supported religious liberty for every religion. Muslims, Hindus, and atheists to name a few. According to Courfeyrac, he was the first person to ever include atheists when talking about religious liberty. She was very impressed. Muriel had asked for her to write down ways to for him to contact her, but though she accepted the pencil, she had hesitated. Courfeyrac asked if she was okay and she didn't answer him. Combeferre recognized something was wrong, had Courfeyrac stay and write out the list Muriel wanted and hauled Enjolras into the nearest gender neutral bathroom. She had clutched the pencil in her hand but she held it like a toddler would.

"I don't remember how to hold this. I know I'm supposed to hold it a certain way but I can't remember what it is."

Once Combeferre had calmed her down and took her home, they all realized that Enjolras hadn't come out of her coma as completely unscathed as they had hoped. She couldn't remember how to hold a pencil, although she could remember how to spell everything she wanted to say. After that, Combeferre spent a lot of time trying to reteach Enjolras how to hold a pencil and dictating her essays and speeches. Enjolras had wanted to lead another meeting but Combeferre wouldn't let her, and had been right to. Courfeyrac had barely begun his report on how the elections had been going in terms of polls when Grantaire easily caught Enjolras struggling to breathe and pressing her hand to her wound, as she was wont to do when she was in pain. Combeferre, who hadn't taken his eyes off of her, had immediately called an end to the business part of the meeting and taken her home. She had waved pathetically as a goodbye to everyone and they didn't see her again for two days.

Eventually, Grantaire got tired of it. He was already very aware that Combeferre was going to steal her away from him, and Enjolras deserved him more. She needed him much, much more while he was just sitting in the back drinking water and drawing nothing. Guilt would choke him up every time he saw her. She deserved Combeferre. She needed Combeferre. Combeferre loved her, it wouldn't be long before she loved Combeferre. It just broke his heart to realize that.

It had been roughly two weeks since her release when he decided to end his relationship with her. He knew it would kill him but he had to do it. He'd barely seen her, Combeferre barely allowed her near anyone but she didn't protest. And that's how he knew. He knew it wouldn't be long before she fell for him, like the opposite of Florence Nightingale syndrome and so at the next meeting, he skipped the business part to get plastered because he knew he'd need the liquid courage. He was halfway there when Enjolras put her hand on his shoulder, frowning.

"Yeah?" He croaked, she obviously wanted to say something.

"Are you all right?" She asked.

"I wouldn't say that." He murmured, but she heard him.

"I'm surprised at you. You're usually not like this." She frowned.

"Don't care. I forgot to ask, where'd your parents go?" He remembered, trying to change the subject. The care in her voice weakened his resolve.

"Um, I sent them home. I'm on the mend, so there's no reason for them to hover and I'm tired of people hovering. They can always fly back if necessary." She answered.

"That's good." He said as he took another long drink, doing his best to get the strength to do this. _I need to protect her_, echoed in his mind over and over again.

"I don't understand. You've been doing so well in terms of your drinking lately." Enjolras sighed wistfully.

"Whatever." Grantaire turned back to the bar.

"Are you sick?" Enjolras pressed.

Grantaire didn't answer her.

"Look, Taire, maybe you should see Combeferre, you don't look well." Enjolras sounded different but the minute she had _his_ name he no longer cared.

He stood, almost fell and when she went to help him steady he wrenched his body away from her. He swayed before pulling himself up to his full height, which wasn't as impressive when drunk. She frowned, not at all intimidated, seemingly torn between worry and anger.

"How could you? Why should I see him? He's the one stealing you from me!" He shouted.

"Is that what this is about? You don't understand-" She tried.

"I don't understand? I heard him clear as day talking to you! He said he loved you! He's loved you since freshman year! He loves you when you wake him up at five and he loves you when you lead protests! He loves you!" He cut her off.

"Taire-" She frowned.

"Look, I get it. Okay, I get it. I hate it but I get it. He's better for you. He's healthier for you. You're much safer with him. I know that. I know I'm not good enough for you. I know I can't compete with Combeferre over you so go be with him. It's better for the both of you." He slumped, trying his best to follow through with his original point.

"No, no, no, Grantaire! You must have misunderstood. 'Ferre doesn't love me like that! He's like my brother, like a part of my family. He's never said he loves me like that. I think I would've remembered that." She put her hands on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. He couldn't meet it.

"No. You're right. He's never said it… to your face. You were unconscious. At least I never confessed my love like that, all cliché and everything." His joke fell flat and he sighed. "I'm sorry, Enjolras, I really do care about you and it's because I care about you that I am going to get out of your way and let you be with who you really need to be with. I'm sorry, Enjolras. I really wished this could've worked out. I would've given anything for it to. Goodbye."

He left her standing in shock and he sat down on the edge of the sidewalk. He hadn't brought his car, he didn't want to drink, cry and crash and end up hurting someone else in his own pain. He put his head on his knees and did his best to not cry.

"Nikolas? Nikolas, what is it?" Musichetta's voice startled him.

He looked up to see her running over to him and embracing him tightly.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Enjolras and I broke up." He admitted, and saying it made it all the more real. The dam burst and he broke down into tears and he cried into her shoulder for a little bit. Then she stood, supporting them both.

"I'm going to take you home, honey. You'll stay with me tonight." She carried him over to her car.

"What about the boys?" He managed to say.

"Joly brought his own car, since he is helping Eponine with her science homework. Bousset can catch a ride with him." Musichetta soothed and drove him home.

He wanted to drink more but Musichetta wouldn't let him, saying it would only make him feel worse tomorrow. He couldn't imagine feeling worse. But she was right as he was struck by nausea and he spent the rest of the night, sobbing and throwing up while Musichetta stroked his hair and listened. Once his stomach was empty, he just laid his head on the toilet seat and sobbed.

"I didn't want to lose her, I just… it's not fair, it's just not fair! I love her! I loved her. I have to stop loving her now. I have to stop loving all of her. And I know there's a difference between the girl she really is and the stage persona. One is the brilliant leader and the other has stage fright. I wasn't supposed to say that. Don't tell her you know that. She'll get mad at me. Like she always does. You know it's amazing that she could care for me… she used to care for me even though she used to get so mad at me. Still does, actually. And it's weird, looking at her on stage versus at home. They're two different people you know. I love both because they're both who she is but I really do love the girl inside, although I don't know her as well. I wanted to get to know her so bad. There's so much to her and it's so much more than the persona. She's not just some statue I can put on a pedestal and worship from below. I know she's human but I want to worship her. I want to look at her like she's my everything and now I can't. She's so much more and now it's gone. I'll never have her again."

"Nikolas, Nikolas, it's going to be okay. Everything's going to be all right."

"Why did I even have to fall in love with her? Why couldn't I fall in love with someone like Eponine? Everyone thought we should date a little while ago. Why couldn't I fall in love with her?"

"One, I'm pretty sure Eponine likes Combeferre," Grantaire wailed at the name, "and she doesn't know it yet. Two, Enjolras needs someone to balance her out. If she dated someone who believes as strongly as she does, nothing would truly get done. She'd be too far up in the clouds all the time. You ground her and help her not fly into the sun and crash. Three, you and Eponine would not be well together. You would bring each other down instead of bringing each other up. It's different when you're best friends versus dating. Lastly, if you hadn't fallen in love with the stage persona then you wouldn't have met everyone and we are all better for knowing you."

"No you're not."

"Yes we are, Nikolas. I know you don't see it, but we are. You cannot listen to that awful voice in your head that tells you you're not good enough, you put us in danger, that you bring us down. You do so much more than you know, Nikolas."

He didn't answer her. She hugged him, forced a glass of water down his throat, gave him some rice to eat and then half-walked half-carried him to bed. He thanked her, though it was highly slurred from alcohol and exhaustion and she kissed his cheek. He passed out a little while later.

Fuck, he hated hangovers. He was much more used to them compared to other people but sometimes, they still fucking hurt. Granted, if Musichetta hadn't given him food and water he probably would feel worse. He should help her for helping him. She deserved it. He crawled out of bed, and nearly cried when he saw the glass of water next to the aspirin. He downed them both quickly and went to the kitchen where she would probably be making breakfast. But she wasn't there. Maybe she wasn't up yet. No, it was past nine, she should be up. However, he did keep her up pretty late. Maybe she was sleeping in.

"Hey, Taire." Joly's voice sent him jumping out of his skin. "Sorry."

Grantaire nodded at him.

"'Chetta texted me last night about what happened. I'm so sorry, Taire." Joly hugged him and he clung to Joly like a lifeboat.

"Where's Bousset?" Grantaire asked, though muffled.

"He got called into work today. Of course the one day he doesn't get much sleep, he gets called in." Joly tried for laughter but didn't get very far.

"I'm sorry." Grantaire mumbled.

He let go of Joly and sat down at the kitchen table.

"You hungry?" Joly asked.

Grantaire shook his head, then regretted it as it exacerbated his headache.

"I'm going to make you something anyway. You need food with a hangover." Joly decided.

Grantaire was too tired to protest.

Joly pressed a kiss to Grantaire's curls and patted his shoulder.

"How late did you get in?" Grantaire asked.

Joly exhaled loudly. "Actually, I just got home. Ep and I didn't finish until about three. I crashed on Cosette's couch for a couple hours."

"What took so long? Ep's not that bad at science." Grantaire cocked his head in confusion.

"Had nothing to do with Ep. No one knows what caused it, 'Ferre certainly didn't say anything afterwards and we didn't press but he and Enjolras got into a huge fight just after you and Musichetta left. They went outside so we couldn't get every word but we heard your name a lot and something about him saying something to her while she was unconscious but a lot of it was… well, it was about you. She was beyond angry with him about how he treated you or something. She said betrayed a lot. And then she, well, she tried to storm off but she couldn't. She wasn't strong enough but she wouldn't let him help her. I've never seen her that angry. She went home with Courfeyrac and _he_ called Combeferre when they got home. Combeferre was devastated. And Marius went home with us. It was like no one could move when they were fighting. We could just sit there in horrid fascination. It was awful. Honestly, I'm kind of glad you weren't there to witness it."

Grantaire frowned deeply. He was about to reach for his phone to call her, but it wasn't there and he remembered that he'd broken up with her and there was no way she would take his call. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

Joly made him bacon and waffles and if he didn't feel bad for his friend making him food, he wouldn't have eaten. But Joly had gone to all that trouble and wasted his food on him so the least he could do was eat it. Musichetta joined them as they were eating. Thankfully, he was spared any lovey-dovey spectacles. They must have known he didn't want to see anyone else happy and dating. Well, most people who just went through a break-up didn't want to see it.

Once they finished, and Grantaire loaded the dishwasher before anyone could say anything and he started cleaning the guest room to help repay them for letting him spend the night. But something was missing.

"Hey, um, have you seen my phone? I don't remember where it ended up." Grantaire asked.

"Yeah, I left it in my car. I figured you wouldn't want everyone calling you about what happened so I just left it out of your reach." Musichetta answered.

"Thanks." He hugged her and grabbed her keys.

His phone was dead when he found it. So he hooked it up to Bousset's charger and left it alone, turning it on silent so it could charge faster. He wanted to help clean the rest of the house but Musichetta just told him that he was required to have ice cream and snuggle with her while watching the Holiday (Musichetta's favorite romance movie). Joly fell asleep on his other side and he and Musichetta just shared about a pint of Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream. (Apparently, this was a combination of two perfect break-up foods.) He ate a lot of it but Musichetta didn't really like chocolate so he didn't feel too bad. When the movie was over, he pulled himself away from Joly and went to his phone, turning over the idea in his mind of if he should go into work today to get his mind off what happened.

There had been several calls but only one text. That one text was from Enjolras, from roughly what would've been around when she and Combeferre had finished fighting. He opened it and wailed.

**Enjolras (1/2)**: I hate you so much sometimes. Here I am putting in all this effort into a relationship I thought we both wanted and you do this. How could you? I trusted you and you betrayed me. How could you betray me like that? I really cared about you. I let you into my heart and you took advantage of my weakness and stabbed me in the back. You are worse than the people who say you don't exist. You're even worse than the woman who shot me! You know

**Enjolras (2/2)**: what? You were right. I thought it was your cynicism but I was wrong. You just knew yourself better than I did. You were right. You would fuck this up royally and now I have to deal with a broken heart. Trusting you was a mistake. I never should've gotten involved with you. If there was ever a time I said a nice word about you, I take it back now. I take everything back now. And you were right about one more thing. Don't come back to the Musain. I am officially kicking you out. Final say.

"Nikolas?" Musichetta was at the door but he just held out his phone. She read it. "_You_ broke up with _her_?"

He nodded. "I was just trying to keep her safe."

"Dear, you stay here. I am going to give her a piece of my mind." Musichetta threatened.

"No! Please, no! I don't want to make it worse. Please just leave it alone." Grantaire begged.

"No! I don't care how angry she is! She has no right to say these things to you!" Musichetta shouted.

"Please." He whimpered, sounding like a pathetic dog licking the hand of the master who hit him.

Musichetta sighed and gritted out, "I won't go over there. I promise."

"Thank you." Grantaire sniffled. "Can you leave me alone? I just want to stay here and be miserable for a little bit."

"Feeling sad at a time like this is completely valid. I'll leave you alone for a little while but not too long. You deserve comfort and more ice cream." Musichetta kissed his cheek and squeezed him so tight he couldn't breathe. It felt good to be loved by someone.

She left him alone and he sat for a minute. He studied the room. The neatly made bed, the clean rug, the landline apparently in use, the open closet, the- wait a minute. Landline in use? Grantaire hadn't heard it ring, and there was only person home who was awake enough to call people. _Oh please, oh please, oh please, oh please_, he begged internally, _PLEASE don't let this be what I think it is_. He hesitated before deciding to invade her privacy just in order to see who she was calling. If he was wrong, he could just hang up and she'd be none the wiser. After all, he _was_ a pretty terrible guy.

"You sound terrible. Are you taking your meds? Do you need to go back to the hospital? Should I text Courfeyrac to drive you? You know, I can send Joly over right away."

His heart sank. There was only one person who could answer that.

"It's not something he can heal." Enjolras sighed. Musichetta was right. She sounded exhausted and depressed.

"I saw that text you sent him. That's not like you. Why did you do that?" Musichetta asked.

"I don't know. I know I probably shouldn't have done that. No, I know I shouldn't have done it but I couldn't take it back. Not after it was so late. I tried calling him a couple times but I never seemed to be able to hit the connect button." Enjolras admitted.

"But why, sweetheart, why? Why did you say those awful things?" Musichetta pressed.

"Because I was so angry with Combeferre and with him and what he said really, really hurt. And I wanted to get him back. I wanted him to hurt because he hurt me. And sometimes I would want to call him just to chew him out again for what he did to me. I know that sounds really petty but it felt good at the time. It doesn't feel good now. I still don't understand though. I really liked this and he just- he broke my heart. Everyone kept telling me of how much he's in love with me. I don't believe a word of that anymore. Why would he do that?" Enjolras was holding back sobs.

"He wanted to keep you safe." Musichetta stated.

"I am safe. What am I gonna do, fall down a flight of stairs and die?" Enjolras dismissed.

"No, darling, that's not what I meant. You missed how hysterical he was right after. He cried for hours. Also, I will admit he was drunk-"

"That's for damn sure. I could smell it on his breath from twenty miles away." Enjolras muttered repulsively.

"And that may have contributed to everything coming out the way it did." Musichetta forced. "Sweetheart, he's terrified."

"Terrified of what?" Enjolras asked unsurely.

"He's trying to deal with a horrific situation and, yes there will be sometimes when he makes mistakes but he tries. And that should be the answer. That you know he's trying. Honey, that's what makes the difference. And he's still afraid that his family is going to come back and track him down and kill whoever tries to defend him. You and I both know nothing stopped them before." Musichetta answered.

"There's something he said I don't get." Enjolras interjected. It had obviously been on her mind and now she couldn't hold it in.

"What, dear?" Musichetta asked.

"Something Grantaire said. He said something about not being able to compete with Combeferre for me. What did he mean by that?" Enjolras replied.

"Think about it, dear. Who do you go to with your personal problems?" Musichetta responded.

"Combeferre." Enjolras stated.

"Who do you go to with the Amis stuff?" Musichetta asked.

"Combeferre." Enjolras repeated.

"Out of everyone in the Amis, who are you most likely to listen to?" Musichetta cut deep.

"Combeferre." Enjolras sighed.

"Who is constantly taking care of you? Even though that's something usually done by a romantic partner, especially in this situation?" Musichetta reminded.

"Combeferre." Enjolras whispered.

"See what I mean? You depend on him, like you don't do R. It's not something to feel guilty about, it's just part of your dynamic. Especially right now, because you're injured. Don't feel bad about that. However, Grantaire feels like he has to compete with Combeferre to take care of you, medically and romantically. Combeferre is the one you fall asleep on. Combeferre is the one who you ask for help on with your homework. Combeferre is the one who has been teaching you how to hold a pencil once more. Combeferre has been the only one you allow around you when you're in pain."

"That's not true." Enjolras interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Musichetta said, surprised.

"I don't only allow Combeferre specifically around me when I'm in pain. Combeferre won't allow me around anyone else because he doesn't want to stress me out. I do want to be around Taire when I'm in pain but I usually just get taken home. I mean I get it I wanna feel better but I also want him." Enjolras sighed.

"My point still stands. You haven't told him any of this, mostly because you haven't been able to. He is still stuck in guilt. He feels that he hasn't lived up to the standard Combeferre has set. He thinks Combeferre deserves you more. A lot of this is his abysmal self-esteem. He doesn't think he's good enough for you. And so he thinks that since he's not good enough for you, he shouldn't put you through this. And he is so scared of hurting you again, that he distances himself from you even though it's the last thing he wants to do. It's noble in a twisted sort of way." Musichetta finished.

Enjolras was strangely silent.

"Honey, you two need to talk. Face-to-face. You two need to work this out and figure yourselves out since you two are great together and I know you both care deeply about one another. You need communication, not me relaying drunken ramblings of your boyfriend." Musichetta said.

"Did you know?" Enjolras interjected hotly.

"Know what, dear?" Musichetta frowned. He winced as he recognized her tone of voice.

"Did you know that Combeferre was-" She gagged, but not in disgust, "In love with me? Why am I asking? Of course you did. You know everything."

"Yes, I did. But it wasn't my secret to tell. Like how I know Courfeyrac and Jehan are quite mad about each other but they haven't quite realized it yet. I hope they will soon." Musichetta sighed.

Suddenly, Enjolras was crying. "I don't know what to say. To either of them. I love Combeferre but not like that. He's like the older brother I never had and I thought he loved me like a sister. And to make it worse, I asked Courfeyrac he'd said that he was just trying to do what's best for him since I'd never shown any interest in romance and when I did it wasn't directed at Combeferre and Combeferre asked him not to say anything. So both of my best friends basically kept this huge secret from me and now I feel like I can't trust anyone."

"No, sweetie, you can trust everyone. We all love you but watching you get shot was hard on everyone. Especially Nikolas." Musichetta shushed.

"How would you feel in Joly and Bousset kept something this big from you? You'd feel betrayed, angry and hurt!" Enjolras snapped.

"I know. I would feel that way. And I'm sorry you had to go through this." Musichetta agreed. "I'm not trying to tell you not to feel that way. Your feelings are just as valid as his. However, I'm just trying to inform you of things that you couldn't have known."

"I just… I just… I want him back. I want everything back to the way it was. It was perfect like that! Not like it is now." Enjolras retorted.

"Change is a part of life." Musichetta tried.

"I don't care." Enjolras huffed.

"You know he still loves you?" Musichetta asked unexpectedly.

"Oh yes I am afraid I am very aware of that fact!" Enjolras growled.

"No, darling. Nikolas." Musichetta clarified.

"Didn't you hear? _R_ broke up with _me_!" Enjolras snarled.

"He only broke up with you because he's afraid." Musichetta explained.

"Afraid of what?" Enjolras demanded.

"Afraid of losing his friends, and most importantly, losing you." Musichetta answered.

"How would he lose me and the others?" Enjolras asked, innocently.

"Because think about it. He thinks that our friends love you more than him. If you two were to break up, badly, and I mean worse than last night, he thinks everyone would choose your side and that would be it. He doesn't think he can take you leaving him because he thinks he's too dangerous to be around. His heart just can't bear it." Musichetta said.

Enjolras sniffled.

"And as much as I hate it, we can't forget about his relatives. We may be safe for now but there's no guarantee that they won't come back. There's no guarantee that they won't come after him again. Honestly, he's not afraid of that. He's afraid of them coming after _us_." Musichetta pressed.

"Are you revealing some big secret?" Enjolras asked.

"If you pay attention to certain details, it's plain to see. But remember, you missed a lot of this while you were unconscious." Musichetta reminded.

"What should I do?" Enjolras beseeched.

"Talk to him. Tell him you don't blame him for your getting shot." Musichetta started.

"Where did he get that idea?" Enjolras interrupted heatedly.

"Um, I'm pretty sure his own depression and Combeferre. No one but those two knows but I can tell you something went down between those two. It was big. Combeferre wouldn't even hear Nikolas's name and Nikolas would only visit you certain hours because he knew Combeferre would be gone. They wouldn't be in the same room for a little while. And right after Joly sent him to get Combeferre to sleep, he had a bit of a breakdown afterwards. Now I can't be absolutely sure, but I can put two and two together." Musichetta explained and he blushed, deeply embarrassed.

"But he doesn't understand! It shouldn't matter what _Combeferre_ said. _I've_ never believed it was his fault!" Enjolras shouted.

"Tell _him_ that. And I'm warning you that might not be enough. Guilt is a hard emotion to prove wrong, especially in someone like Grantaire. He loves you, darling, but he's so guilty of your getting shot that he thinks the only way to protect you is to leave." Musichetta relayed.

"But I don't want him to leave!" Enjolras whispered, sounding like she was crying.

"You don't?" Of course he had to make the mistake of opening his mouth in shock. He slapped a hand to his mouth but it was too late.

"Grantaire, are you listening?" Enjolras asked.

"Yes." He answered.

"Why?" Enjolras didn't sound angry, she just sounded tired.

"I'd rather hear you choose Combeferre over the phone rather than doing it face-to-face like you always insist to do. I figured it'd be easier." He replied despondently.

"You figured what would be easier?" Enjolras pressed.

"Leaving. That way, I could just put in for a transfer and pack my shit and leave. No one would kick me out and I could remember the good times without the bad." He admitted.

"Nikolas! How could you think such thing?" Musichetta cried.

"I won't put you all in danger again." He snapped.

Then his ears picked up on Enjolras's breath. She was breathing hard and he knew the exact signs that she had pushed herself too hard and she needed to rest.

"You're making that noise again." He accused.

"What noise?" Enjolras tried, and failed, to sound ignorant. Her breath and little gasps of pain gave her away.

"The noise you make when your chest hurts. It means you're having trouble breathing because you overextended yourself. Hang on." He put down the phone and brought out his cell phone.

"Hey, R." Courfeyrac answered joyfully, obviously blissfully unaware of the proceedings in the other room.

"'Fey, she needs to take her pain meds. Now." Grantaire ordered.

"Okay." Courfeyrac said unsurely.

"You have her meds right?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah I have them, I'm just doing the math so I don't give her too much." Courfeyrac replied.

"You got it. I'll see you soon." Grantaire smiled.

"Bye." Courfeyrac hung up.

He picked up the receiver for Musichetta's phone and held it back up to his ear. Both Musichetta and Grantaire could hear Courfeyrac coming in and Enjolras acquiescing to the medication. He heard a kiss and Enjolras giggled breathlessly.

He was about to hang up when Enjolras hissed, "This isn't over, R. You owe me a good talk when I feel better."

"You need to let yourself heal." Grantaire pushed.

"I don't care. I care about you. Now," She stopped to breathe, "I want to see you soon."

"You will." He choked out.

"Musichetta, I don't care what you have to do, he is not allowed to leave us. And ignore my last text. That was wrong. I don't know if you heard but I realize that was wrong and just delete it and forget it."

"Okay." He murmured.

"Did you hear?" Enjolras asked.

"Yes. I heard." He replied.

She stopped to breathe for another minute. Her chest was heaving as if she had just run a mile in a dead sprint.

"I'm serious about that talk, Grantaire. I want to have it with you." Enjolras gasped.

"All right." He answered.

"Promise me." She pressed, somehow knowing he would never willingly break a promise to her.

"I promise." He swore.

"Be safe, R." Enjolras replied.

He didn't answer, he only hung up.

* * *

**So I'm sick as a dog. At least when you're sick, it gives you plenty of time to write. Here ya go, my lovelies, enjoy. Review if you can.**


	21. Chapter 21

It was a long few days. He kept busy with school and work. He had told Emma not to push, and she understood after he told her about the break-up. She just gave him a hug and a twenty-minute break instead of a ten. The entire time he waited for Enjolras to call him. She never did. It was Tuesday after class when Courfeyrac called him.

"Hey, R." Courfeyrac chirped, but it wasn't his usual happy voice. It was strained and forced.

"'Courf, you don't have to be fake happy with me." Grantaire reminded.

"I'm not fake happy. I'm just… I'm trying to be positive and the situation keeps getting worse and worse." Courfeyrac sighed.

"What's wrong?" Grantaire asked.

"Enjolras… she's in a mood." Courfeyrac hissed and stopped.

"What kind of mood?" Grantaire prompted.

"I don't know how to describe it. She hasn't gotten out of the apartment in three days." Courfeyrac frowned.

"So she went home?" Grantaire inquired.

"No. She's still here. Marius and I have been sharing a bed since Sunday. Not that we mind." He added that last bit quickly. Probably worried that Enjolras could hear him.

"I'm sure you don't." Grantaire said.

"And the worst part is Combeferre keeps calling but she won't answer. She's completely turned off her phone. I mean I know they fought but I've never seen her like this. All she does is stay in her pajamas and avoid people. She barely even talks to me. I'm starting to get really worried." Courfeyrac admitted.

"Ask her if she minds if I come over." Grantaire tried. Enjolras needed to listen to someone and he did promise her a talk.

"Doesn't matter. I've been asking for everyone since she showed up. She keeps saying she's too tired for visitors. She just doesn't seem well." Courfeyrac dismissed gloomily.

"All right. Well, maybe she just needs some personal time." Grantaire tried.

"No. This is different. I've seen her when she needs personal time. This isn't the same." Courfeyrac sighed.

"Honey, you called me." Grantaire said after a minute of silence.

"Honey? Your girlfriend is in the other room." Courfeyrac teased.

Grantaire sighed deeply.

"What was that? I know that kind of a sigh. What did you do that for? What's wrong?" Courfeyrac peppered him with questions.

"I wouldn't call her my girlfriend right now." Grantaire said.

Courfeyrac gasped starkly. "You're kidding. You've got to be kidding. Please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not. I wish I was." Grantaire whispered.

"Oh God. That explains a lot. I'm so sorry." Courfeyrac groaned.

"It's okay." Grantaire lied.

"Wait a minute. Enjolras would've told me if you two broke up. Are you sure you're one the same page here?" Courfeyrac protested, trying desperately to hold on to the hope that they could still be together.

"Yeah, 'Fey. I'm sure." Grantaire sighed.

He couldn't see it, but he could hear Courfeyrac deflating.

"I'm sorry." Grantaire apologized.

"Why are you apologizing to me? You're the one who should be upset!" Courfeyrac objected.

"I am upset. It's heartbreaking. But I can manage." Grantaire promised.

"Um, hold on… R… yeah sure… hold on" The phone changed hands. "Shoo!" Enjolras's voice surprised him.

"I'm sorry for not calling, I haven't been feeling well lately. I'm exhausted and hungry. Yes that was a snide comment to you Courfeyrac, I'm starving. Make me food." Enjolras said. "Sorry. I wanted to be alone for a minute."

"It's okay." Grantaire stated unsurely.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm really tired. I do want to talk to you. I swear. I just… I'm very tired." Enjolras sighed.

"Emotional tired?" He asked.

"Mm-hmm." She hummed.

"Like that April?" He knew he was cutting a little deep but he couldn't let her stay in bed forever.

"No." She surprised him. "I know it sounds like it but… that was grief. This isn't… this _isn't_. I don't know how else to explain it."

"Are you sure?" He pressed.

"I'm sure. Thank you for wanting to take care of me." Enjolras cooed.

He didn't answer her.

The line went silent awkwardly.

"Taire? You still there?" Enjolras asked.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm still here." He tried hiding how badly his heart had hurt when she said that.

"Um, Courfeyrac is making me a grilled cheese. I should go eat that." Enjolras said awkwardly.

"Yeah. Yeah go eat. I'll finish talking to Courfeyrac later." Grantaire dismissed and hung up.

That sucked.

He exhaled and groaned. He'd had awkward talks with his exes before but this was one he didn't want to stick around for. He wanted to go- he wanted to get out-

No. He had promised Enjolras that he would talk with her. He had to keep that promise. He owed her that.

He flopped around his house for a while, waiting for someone to call back. Courfeyrac called him back about two hours later.

"Hey. I'm not sure who else I'm supposed to call for this." Courfeyrac started.

"About what?" Grantaire asked.

"I've got an appointment at the clinic in about forty-five minutes, I gotta meet Jehan, and Marius is with Cosette and I don't want to leave her alone. But she won't let me call Combeferre or Joly and I can't think of anyone else who's not at work or in class. You're not at work, are you?" Courfeyrac replied.

"No I opened today, I'm done with work. I can come over." Grantaire grabbed his keys.

"Thank you!" Courfeyrac hung up and he headed over to Courfeyrac's apartment.

Courfeyrac met him outside.

"Thanks." Courfeyrac hugged him tightly.

"No problem. I'm glad to help." Grantaire grinned.

"Feel free to help yourself to anything you want. And if you get Enjolras to eat something, I will forever be grateful." Courfeyrac offered.

"Did she eat the grilled cheese sandwich?" Grantaire frowned.

"About half of it. But then she went back to bed. She looked really sad." Courfeyrac admitted.

Grantaire didn't answer, his stomach clenching that he had made her upset enough to not eat.

"I'm also sorry." Courfeyrac sighed after a time.

"Why?" Grantaire asked.

"Because I'm asking you to take care of your ex. Your very recent ex." Courfeyrac replied.

"I'll be okay. Besides, she'll probably just sleep most of the time." Grantaire shrugged.

Courfeyrac nodded and headed out after giving him the key. He let himself into the apartment and found his hypothesis correct. Enjolras was spread out across Courfeyrac's bed and he sat down next to her.

Sometimes he felt honored just to look at her. This was one of those times. She looked so peaceful. The worry lines just faded away and left the twenty-two year old woman who could've been an angel. The gentle rise and fall of her chest was almost too pure, her lips slightly parted and he had leaned down before he stopped himself. His heart tightened and he couldn't stand to be in that room any longer. He suppressed the urge to kiss her cheek and headed out to the living room. He just flopped down onto the couch and turned on the TV. He wasn't really watching anything, more just keeping his mind occupied, and he kept his ears open for any sound from Enjolras. But after ten minutes he couldn't stand just lying there uselessly and he got up to start making some food for her. He looked through Courfeyrac's cabinets decided to make mac and cheese. That seemed easy enough while still being somewhat healthy. He was draining the mac when the door opened. He turned and saw Enjolras, looking like a wild cat with bed hair and dragging the comforter behind her. He stirred in the butter, milk and cheese and spooned it into two bowls. He brought them out and sat on the floor.

"Get up on the couch." Her tone gave him no choice.

So he sat down and she curled up on his side with her head on his shoulder.

"You have to eat something." Grantaire pushed the mac and cheese.

"You're all gonna make me fat." She murmured but accepted the cheesy goodness.

"You could use a little fat." He shot back.

"Excuse me?" She accused.

"You lose weight way too easily." He explained.

"I will fiercely debate my own body image… after food." She smiled.

"I'm not attacking your body image. I'm attacking your lack of health." He counted.

She pouted as she ate. He was just glad she was eating.

"Why are you here?" She asked, after she had eaten about three-fourths of her mac and cheese.

"Because Courfeyrac needed someone to watch you." He answered.

"No. Why are _you_ here?" She repeated.

"Because I missed you." He replied.

"Why?" She frowned, as if this answer did not satisfy her.

"Because you're the greatest person I know." He responded, swallowing hard.

She frowned deeper and pressed her hand against her chest. "My chest hurts."

His ears picked up her breathing hard once again. Except she'd had almost no exercise and nothing emotional exhausting had happened, as far as he knew. He let her sit while he put away the dishes and decided to call Joly and see if this was supposed to be normal for someone like her but all he got was his voicemail. So, even though he knew she wouldn't like it, her health came first and he called Combeferre.

"Hey." Combeferre answered gloomily.

"Enjolras is at Courfeyrac's. I think she needs your help. I can't reach Joly." Grantaire stated.

"I'll be over there in a few minutes." Combeferre hung up, obviously speeding to get here.

True to his word, a few minutes later Combeferre showed.

"What? You break every law on your way over here?" Grantaire asked.

"Nah. I was at the grocery store down the street." Combeferre explained. "Hi."

Enjolras frowned in confusion. "Hi."

"I need to check your stitches." Combeferre announced, kneeling down next to her.

She unburied herself from the covers and pulled down her top to expose her wound. It was a little red but it didn't seem infected. Well, he thought so. He wasn't a medical student.

"Have you been crying?" Combeferre asked, his voice strictly business.

"No." Enjolras huffed, affronted.

"I'm not asking as your friend. I'm asking as a med student trying to keep you out of the hospital." Combeferre snapped.

"Maybe a little." Enjolras blushed.

"All right. Crying probably strained your wound a bit and since you haven't ripped your stitches out, I don't think you have to go back to the hospital." Enjolras sighed in relief. "However, I want you to take it easy and honestly, do your best not to cry for a little while."

Enjolras nodded and bundled back up in the covers.

Combeferre sighed. "Can we talk?"

"I suppose there's no law against it." Enjolras snapped.

Knowing that this was between them, Grantaire decided to go down to his car and listen to the radio. He kept the car off and hoped they wouldn't be a few hours. His battery would be fine for like two hours but anything more and he wouldn't risk it.

Of course, the first song that came on was Escape (The Pina Colada song). He started chuckling which blew into full blown laughter and bad signing.

"If you like Pina Coladas  
And getting caught in the rain  
If you're not into yoga  
If you have half a brain  
If you like making love at midnight  
In the dunes on the cape  
Then I'm the love that you've looked for  
Write to me and escape"

He just enjoyed the music for a little while, all the time keeping a watch on the clock. Someone pounded on the door, scaring the shit out of him.

Combeferre laughed. "I gotcha."

Grantaire did the mature thing and stuck out his tongue.

"Come on. She wants you again." Combeferre waved.

He opened the door, turning off the radio and they headed back up.

"You two have a good talk?" Grantaire asked.

"We're not totally okay, but we're better. She's agreed to come home so I can keep a closer eye on her. And she's speaking to me again so that's a miracle." Combeferre smiled.

Grantaire nodded.

"Actually, you were right that day." Combeferre sighed.

"Which one?" Grantaire asked.

"You said she'd be disappointed in me because I wasn't treating out friends the way I should. You were right." Combeferre explained.

"I'm sorry I was right." Grantaire put his hand on Combeferre's shoulder.

"Did you really break up with her?" Combeferre asked suddenly, stopping before the door.

"Yes." Grantaire said tightly.

"I can't believe it. She told me that when we were fighting but I didn't believe her. Why?" Combeferre stated.

"I need to keep her safe." Grantaire kept his tone.

"I love you, and I love you dearly Grantaire, regardless of our fights, but you are an idiot." Combeferre laughed.

Grantaire frowned, a little hurt.

"She doesn't care about safety. She cares about you. She wants to snuggle with you right now." Combeferre continued.

"That's because she can't get you." Grantaire muttered.

"She and I don't cuddle. Yes, she will fall asleep on me but that's an issue of trust. She also falls asleep on you." Combeferre pressed.

"Look, it's over so don't push it. I don't really want to talk about this." Grantaire opened the door a little roughly and smoothed his expression before coming back to her and sitting back down on the couch. She latched onto him and rubbed her face into where his neck and shoulder met.

"Are you comfortable?" He teased.

"Yes." Her answer was slightly muffled.

"Have a good talk?" He repeated.

She shrugged. "Went okay."

"You're still mad at him." It wasn't a question.

She nodded.

"Holding onto that anger isn't going to make anything better." He attempted.

"I know. But I want to be mad for a little while. I'm not trying to hold a grudge I just want to be mad. Do you understand?" She asked.

"I understand." He promised.

"I'm tired but I'm also tired of sleeping." She whined.

"How about we watch some mindless TV?" He offered.

"Deal." She agreed.

"I'm going to finish grocery shopping and then I'll come and pick you up okay?" Combeferre declared.

She nodded.

"Okay." Grantaire said since Combeferre probably couldn't see her under the mass of blanket.

Combeferre nodded and headed out. Grantaire turned on the TV and since How It's Made was on, he turned on that channel.

"You remembered." She purred.

"It was very unexpected." He wanted to shrug but he didn't want to disturb her more.

"I can be a very unexpected person." She chuckled.

"Oh, Enj." He teased, loving how the sound rolled off his tongue.

"That's better than Enjy. If you must call me by a nickname, choose that one." She decided.

He smiled and thought, _you know what? This could work. Maybe he and Enjolras were over but maybe they could still be friends. He would still have those weeks with her. That could be enough_.

Then Enjolras huffed and grabbed his arms, which were behind the couch, and brought them to her waist.

"Snuggling doesn't count if it's just me. I want you." She explained.

"Oh excuse me." He dramatized and held her close.

"I'm sorry." She said after a little bit.

"Sorry? About what?" Grantaire frowned.

"We need to talk and I'm just too tired. I swear that doesn't mean I don't want to have it." She explained.

"It's okay. You're not feeling well, I get that." He dismissed.

"I'm still sorry. Must've sucked waiting for a call that never came." She sighed.

"I knew you were having a rough time. Don't feel bad." He tried.

"I really meant to. Combeferre would call me like five times a minute I just turned it off to ignore him. I wanted to call you, I swear but my phone was off and I was angry at 'Ferre. So I didn't." She said.

"You're allowed to feel. I understand." He insisted.

"I don't want to date him." She stated.

"Pardon?" He asked.

"I don't want to date Combeferre. You told me that night that I should want to date him but I don't and that's the end of that." She said matter-of-factly.

"All righty then." He chuckled.

She hummed incoherently. He buried the urge to kiss her head and snuggle down deeper. He just held her tightly.

Combeferre returned soon after. Grantaire unwrapped her from the covers and picked her up bridal style. She had squawked but hadn't moved from his arms. He carried her to the car and they drove home. It was silent, Grantaire could've held the awkwardness in his hand, and he was very grateful it was a short ride back to Enjolras's apartment. He offered to carry Enjolras up the stairs but her glare was his answer. He put up his hands in defense and went to grab some bags.

"Only take one. She'll need you after the second story." Combeferre had told him.

He grabbed the bag Combeferre offered and went up the stairs. Enjolras was on the second story landing, clutching her chest and panting. Not needing her permission, he picked her back up and she didn't protest until they got to the door.

"I hate being this weak." She muttered.

"You're not weak. You've been shot, in the chest I might add which not many people survive, an infection wreaked havoc on your body, and your rib punctured your lung. This isn't weakness, this is your body trying it's best for what's happened to it." He countered.

She huffed.

"Enj, I know I've said this before but you need to let yourself heal. Otherwise, you will stay like this for a very long time, much longer than need be. I think that's why you've been feeling so lousy. Your mind is trying to push your body to something it cannot do. You need to sleep, you need to eat, and you can't push yourself to somewhere you're not ready to go just yet." He continued.

She pouted.

"Please." He finished.

"Fine." She relented.

"I know you won't come up to scratch half the time, but I know that you try." He butchered.

She laughed. "That wasn't even close."

He smiled and set her down on her bed. He tucked her in and then helped Combeferre grab the rest of the groceries.

"You want some tea? I'm making some." Combeferre offered.

"I'll ask her." Grantaire said and did so.

"He always makes me tea. When this is over, I'm never having tea again." She muttered.

"She said she'd love some." Grantaire told Combeferre.

"Great. I wasn't asking her. She doesn't have a choice. Tea has amazing properties to heal and it'll do her good. I was asking you. Do _you_ want some?" Combeferre asked.

"Why not?" Grantaire accepted.

So three tea bags were placed in the water and stirred accordingly. He brought Enjolras hers and she begrudgingly accepted it. Grantaire just chuckled at her antics, and they all complied on Enjolras's bed. He drained his fairly quickly as they sat in silence, enjoying each other.

"This is boring. I hate tea. Someone read to me, or help me plan my essay for History of Law." Enjolras announced, prickling up like a porcupine.

"I write your planner for you. That essay isn't due for three weeks." Combeferre protested.

"One of you choose. I'm bored." She whined.

Grantaire rolled his eyes and grabbed the first book he saw on her desk. "You really are the worst patient."

"Am not." She countered.

"Yes. Yes, you are." Combeferre agreed.

She pouted.

He opened the book, something called La fiesta del chivo, and frowned.

"Did you take Spanish?" Grantaire asked.

"No, she hasn't taken her language yet." Combeferre answered.

"I don't have to take a language. I'm already bilingual." Enjolras corrected.

"Since when?" Combeferre asked, seemingly affronted that he didn't know this about her.

"My parents exposed me to several languages when I was younger and I chose one and now I'm perfectly fluent in French and English." Enjolras replied.

Grantaire laughed lightly. Combeferre was staring with his mouth open.

"Close your mouth, 'Ferre, we are not a codfish." Grantaire and Enjolras said on cue.

Combeferre snapped his mouth shut. Enjolras and Grantaire broke into laughter and high-fived.

"That's adorable." Combeferre said dryly.

Enjolras's smile brightened but Grantaire's disappeared. Thankfully, he plastered a fake one on before Enjolras saw it. Combeferre saw it though.

"But no I can't read it. Not without a translator." Enjolras pressed a hand on her chest through a smile, trying to calm down, pain clear on her face.

"Slow your breathing. It'll stop hurting." Combeferre instructed.

Enjolras nodded and did as Combeferre said. Then she seemed to remember something.

"Dammit. How am I supposed at stay mad at you with both of you making me laugh?"

It was Combeferre and Grantaire's turn to laugh boisterously. It got worse as Combeferre was leaning backwards and then fell off the bed. Enjolras shrieked with laughter. But it was ruined when Enjolras started coughing violently.

Combeferre immediately rushed to her and helped her calm down.

"All right, as much as I adore this, I gotta cut this short. You should finish your tea and then rest." Combeferre ordered, as he checked her throat.

It spoke volumes when Enjolras nodded and drained her tea.

Grantaire and Combeferre left her alone.

"She okay?" Grantaire asked worriedly.

"Yeah. A lot of it is her lungs but just in case I made sure to check for any blood in her throat in case any capillaries broke but she's all right. But I'm glad I put honey in her tea. That'll help her throat." Combeferre sighed.

Grantaire sighed. "Will she ever be able to laugh like that again?"

"Yeah. But it'll take time. I have to try to convince her to try and go to physical therapy. I wasn't sure she needed it and she hated the idea so I let it go. I shouldn't have." Combeferre spat.

"Didn't the hospital take care of that?" Grantaire demanded.

"They can't force her to make an appointment. And her parents can't force her either. She's over eighteen. She hates hospitals and she hates doctors. Heaven knows why." Combeferre rolled his eyes then narrowed them. "Maybe _you_ know why."

"I don't know why." Grantaire said immediately.

Combeferre searched him and found his answer truthful.

Grantaire sighed. "I'm sorry about spilling the beans on you. I shouldn't have said it and I know why you were trying to keep a secret. I can make excuses but that doesn't undo what I did."

"It's okay. I understand. She made her own choices." Combeferre shrugged.

"She just seemed to need you so much and I thought she would be better off with you. I just wanted her to be happy, I didn't mean to create this rift between you." Grantaire continued on.

"You know, I was really mad at you at first. I hated you for telling her my secret. But then I realized it had to come out eventually. I love her, but I've known for a long time I'm not right for her. She chose you so I need to accept that and move on. It's just easier said than done." Combeferre stopped him.

"We could have weekly meetings about how well we're doing on that." Grantaire replied dryly.

Combeferre sighed. "I still can't believe you two broke up."

"Believe it." Grantaire snapped.

"I'm sorry. This must be very difficult for you, I'm just making it worse." Combeferre placed his hand on Grantaire's shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap. That's mean." Grantaire sighed.

"Stop apologizing. I know you're going through a hard time." Combeferre tried. "C'mon. You can help me cook dinner."

"How can I help? By burning down your kitchen?" Grantaire asked.

Combeferre laughed. "I'm just making something simple. Like soup or something. Even you can't screw that up."

He grinned and essentially just watched as Combeferre made breakfast for dinner. Eggs for Enjolras, waffles and bacon for Grantaire and Combeferre. She came out just as Grantaire was setting the table.

"Morning." She muttered.

"It's not morning. It's evening." Grantaire told her.

"But I smell bacon." She frowned, looking like a little lost puppy. Since he knew she'd kill him, he resisted the urge to coo.

"We're having breakfast for dinner." Grantaire explained.

"Oh." She said, the frown disappearing and she sat down.

"You don't get any bacon." Grantaire swallowed, biting his lip.

She looked up at him with pure innocent confusion. "Why don't I get bacon?"

"Because I wanted to give you something to go a little smoother down your throat. Also, I'm treating this like a cold since your lungs are still recovering and I don't care what face you give me, I said no." Combeferre stated, cocking one eyebrow as he stared at her.

Grantaire looked at her and saw she had been giving him puppy dog eyes. He was glad Combeferre had the food. Grantaire never would've been able to resist that.

The puppy dog eyes turned into a deep pout but Grantaire winked at her and she smiled gently. They ate while Combeferre told them about his day at the hospital. When Combeferre wasn't paying attention, Grantaire slipped her a piece of bacon and her smile was worth it to him. Dinner was soon finished, and when Grantaire was picking up the dishes, Enjolras kissed his cheek. He froze. Enjolras furrowed her brow in confusion.

"I think I'm going to go and rearrange my bookshelf or something." Combeferre scurried out, seeing the tension between his friends.

"R?" Enjolras asked.

"You shouldn't have done that." Grantaire ground out, remembering that Enjolras had never had an ex before.

"Why not? I like kissing you and I've kissed you before. I thought surprise kisses were supposed to be cute." Enjolras frowned.

"Well, they are but… Enj, we're over." Grantaire groaned, his heart aching when he said that.

"I- You- I can't- You were serious about that? I thought when I told you that I would never want to date Combeferre that was enough. That's why you did it, right?" Enjolras's face fell into heartbreak and the pain he had caused her knocked his feet out from under him and he knelt at her feet, like a mortal worshipping at a temple.

Grantaire hesitated, unsure as to his answer. He wanted to protect her but he didn't want to leave her.

"Please don't. _Please_ don't. I don't want you to leave. I like this and I want to keep this going." Enjolras begged as the war raged on inside of him.

"I want to keep you safe." He repeated his words to Musichetta.

"I don't want to be kept safe. There's going to be protests that go bad, there's going to be death threats and there's always going to be something. I live my life in the spotlight because of my work and I want there to be someone I trust waiting for me in the shadows. I was really hoping that could be you. And I've already- you know what? Never mind." Enjolras snapped.

"Don't think that this is because I don't want to date you-" He started.

"Then why are you doing this?" She asked.

"Because I couldn't bear it if you got hurt again because of me! I nearly got you killed once!" He shouted, his emotions overflowing and he fought tears.

"I didn't get hurt because of you. I got hurt because of what I said to her. This is her fault, not yours. I know 'Chetta said you felt guilty but I didn't know it was this bad. You did not do this to me." She pressed.

He felt the tears run down his face and Enjolras grabbed his hands and kissed the tears off his face.

"I'm sorry. If you don't want to do this, I understand. I'm a hard person to deal with." She pulled back.

He couldn't take the distance and leaned forward to her.

"This isn't you. But… I'm scared. I'm scared I'm going to hurt you. I couldn't bear it if I hurt you." He put his head on her shoulder.

"I think that's inevitable." She said and he pulled back, incredulous. "No, no, no, no that's not what I meant! I meant that relationships aren't perfect and we're going to stumble but that doesn't mean we have to fall."

He considered this. He wanted desperately to keep going in a relationship with her. He wasn't sure he could take being her friend when he had once held her as his girlfriend. His urges to kiss her would be too strong. But he would never want to allow her to get hurt.

"There's a reason I didn't chose to date Combeferre. I had lots of chances. But I didn't want to. Combeferre and I are much better off friends. That's the relationship I want with him, nothing more. I've never wanted anything more and I don't think I will ever want anything more. I chose you for a reason." She added.

"You chose me because I was there." He muttered.

"No. I chose you because… oh I swear you tell anyone this and I'll kill you… when you were gone the last two meetings before… what happened, and you didn't tell me where you were I- I missed you." She admitted.

He frowned at her. "What?"

"I missed you. I wanted you there with me. At the meetings." She blushed.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about missing me." He chuckled.

"Oh hush. But my point is I chose you for a reason. I wouldn't have slept with you had I not felt something." She smacked his arm lightly, but he could tell she meant what she said.

He nodded. "I believe you. That's not my issue."

"I want you here with me. Are we back together? Because I didn't really take you seriously when you broke up with me because A you were drunk and B the main reason you had was not true, Combeferre and I, never happening, and C Musichetta made it seem like we were going to talk as romantic partners. At least, I got that meaning from her." She amended.

He placed his head on her lap, sitting on his feet and she started running her hands through his hair, curling her fingers at the end to ease the knots out of his hair.

"I'm sorry." He apologized.

She didn't answer him.

"I want to do this with you so badly. It hurts when I see you and I can't be with you." He said.

"So what does that mean?" She whispered.

"It means," He sniffled, "If you'll forgive me, we can do this. I'd like to stay together."

He looked up at her and saw her relieved smile. She leaned down and kissed him gently. He pressed forward, turning something innocent into something more passionate. His hands went to her shoulders, down to her arms to her waist. His nails dug a bit into her waist and she moaned.

"I see you two made up." Combeferre's voice was light and dry.

They jumped apart from each other, and Enjolras pressed her hand to her chest.

"You've got to stop doing that. I'm just not strong enough." Enjolras panted.

"I'm sorry, dear." Combeferre's eyes were twinkling and Grantaire couldn't place why.

"I think I should go. I should be starting on homework soon." Grantaire blushed.

He stood and she hugged him. He kissed her cheek to say goodbye.

"I'll walk you out." Combeferre smiled.

Grantaire ducked his head and headed out.

"So that seemed pleasant." Combeferre teased.

"Shut up. And what's with you anyways?" Grantaire demanded.

Combeferre stopped. "She hasn't been happy for a few days now. I don't like it. And being with you obviously makes her happy. I'm glad you two made up. Also, does Courfeyrac know?" Combeferre asked.

He nodded.

"Tell him. That should brighten his day. And it saves you the trouble of telling everyone else again." Combeferre smiled.

He nodded again. He then hugged Combeferre tightly.

"It's not me you're dating." Combeferre chuckled.

"I'm glad you two are on better terms now. I wouldn't want to do anything to damage your relationship. I'm very glad she has you." Grantaire said, trying to put the meaning from his words into his eyes as he met Combeferre's.

"I mean, come on. Who else is she going to complain to when you piss her off?" Combeferre joked, a brilliant smile on his face.

Grantaire burst out laughing.

He clapped Combeferre on the back and headed home.

The next morning, he was woken by the sound of someone whispering and going through his stuff. Granted, he didn't live in the best neighborhood like Enjolras but this was the first time his place had been broken into. He must have forgotten to lock the door. No, he could've sworn he did. Dammit, he hoped he wouldn't have to pay for the damage on the lock. Probably would cost as much as one of his paintings. He opened his eyes and found his room empty. So he reached for the baseball bat he kept underneath his bed and slowly got out of bed, trying to be silent. He crept towards his door and heard female voices through the door. Unusual, but he knew women were no strangers to crime. He held the doorknob, stilled his nerves and threw open the door and waved the baseball bat with fury.

"Dear God, R, calm down!" Enjolras's voice stilled the bat.

"What are you doing in my house? I locked the door!" Grantaire shouted.

"That would be me." Musichetta surprised him, making him jump.

"What are you doing in my house?" Grantaire repeated.

"It's not a house, it's an apartment." Enjolras started.

"What are you doing in my _apartment_ then?!" Grantaire roared.

"I let her in. How she knew I had a key to your place I don't know." Musichetta took pity on him and answered him.

"I have my sources. And my parents have invited us to lunch." Enjolras replied.

"I'm going to ask, one more time. What are you doing in my apartment?" Grantaire stated through gritted teeth.

"I told you. My parents have invited us to lunch. We will be going." Enjolras responded.

"Sweetheart, you have to go on. That doesn't explain why we're in his apartment." Musichetta said, putting the shorts she picked up in the basket he didn't notice she was holding.

"What are you doing with my clothes?" He growled.

"My parents have invited us to lunch at the Hilton. We're going to said lunch. I need you to show up in presentable clothes but I still wanted you to be yourself so no clothes from Combeferre. And Musichetta has so gracefully offered her machine. So I figured if you were cleaning a couple of clothes that I could just as well launder the rest of them." Enjolras finally explained.

He set the baseball bat down and sighed.

"You need to start out with that next time. You know what? Please don't let there be a next time." He groaned.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." Enjolras frowned.

"It's all right. Don't do it again." He said then yawned. "You know you could've just told me you were coming over."

"I did. I texted you about an hour ago when these plans were made." Enjolras told him.

Grantaire frowned and fetched his phone. At eight-forty three, there was a text from Enjolras. He'd be damned.

"Sorry." He apologized but it was half-hearted. They'd still scared him to death.

"Well, we obviously woke you so I understand." Musichetta patted his shoulder.

"Me too." Enjolras chirped.

Grantaire rubbed his face with his hands.

"I hate you all." Grantaire groaned.

Enjolras smiled brightly then frowned. "Today is your day off right?"

"No, today is not my day off. But don't worry." Grantaire sighed. "If we finish by two, I can be a few minutes late. Emma will understand."

Enjolras's smile returned. Then she looked him over and frowned.

"Strip."

* * *

**Good day all. Or rather good night. I'm sorry this took so long. Finals and move out day were bitches. Hope you all enjoy this. Let me know what you think.**


	22. Chapter 22

Lunch started tense. Enjolras had picked out his outfit, his best jeans that had miraculously had no paint on them, and his Guns N' Roses t-shirt (he couldn't resist the quip he made about the last time Enjolras had seen that shirt, she had whipped him with the first shirt she'd grabbed out of the dryer. He had his work shoes on and had sat there quietly while Enjolras tried to tame his wild curls, which pretty much failed miserably but she seemed satisfied. But he wasn't satisfied now. Both Sebastien and Annette were looking at him with utter disdain. He had to focus on breathing to make sure he didn't run away. He really wanted to though.

"So my teachers have been really kind to me these past couple of weeks." Enjolras tried. Even she could notice the tension.

"I'm glad, dear." Annette smiled at her daughter before returning to his gaze.

"That's it! I didn't bring him all the way out here for you to stare at him like he's dirt. Out with it!" Enjolras snapped.

Sebastien started with "So you're dating our daughter."

Grantaire froze like a deer in headlights. He didn't know that they knew. Abort, abort, abort!

Enjolras groaned, embarrassed. "I had some choice in that too, you know."

"What are your prospects?" Sebastien asked hardly, setting the tone for this line of questioning.

"He has many. I know he's swimming in gallery offers to display his art." Enjolras answered for him.

"How many other women have you dated?" Sebastien asked.

Carefully not mentioning the men, Grantaire said. "Just one, sir."

"And why did it end?" Sebastien growled.

"She got accepted into a different college, sir. It was mutual." Grantaire explained.

"And does your virginity remain intact?" Sebastien interrogated.

"Dad!" Enjolras shrieked, mortified.

Grantaire stuttered out a, "I'd rather not answer that, sir. It's kind of personal."

"I must know what the man dating my daughter is capable of. Especially since his family is a bunch of moral degenerates. Is there anyone in your family who's not a convicted criminal?" Sebastien snarled.

"Uh, no, sir." Grantaire frowned.

"And are _you_?" Sebastien asked.

"Am I what, sir?" Grantaire inquired.

"Are you a convicted criminal?" Sebastien clarified.

"No, sir." Grantaire replied.

"Have you ever been arrested?" Sebastien asked.

"Twice but that was at Enj- Julia's protests. Never anything substantial. Nothing stuck because I didn't do anything wrong." Grantaire admitted, knowing he couldn't lie to this man.

"So Grantaire, how much do you drink?" Sebastien asked suddenly.

"Sir?" He frowned in confusion.

"How much do you drink?" Sebastien stated in disgust.

"Enough." Grantaire avoided.

"No, I think you drink more than 'enough'. I saw how much you drank while Julia was in the hospital." Sebastien accused.

"Of course. I almost died. That's a reason to drink." Enjolras interrupted snappily.

"Darling he- he's a _boozer_. And you know _his_ kind are. He'll get you knocked up and then he'll desert you." Sebastien spat.

"Don't you dare say such things. Grantaire would never do that to me. Besides I know he drank the first time I met him. He was drunk off his ass. I had to have Bahorel throw him out. But he came back. Sober. And that's what matters. He means a lot to me. Can you at least pretend to like him? You liked him before." Enjolras growled, matching her father's intensity.

"He's an artist. You'll be supporting him his entire life." Sebastien tried.

"Actually we just planned to go over to L'a Coup de Forde. He's paying." Enjolras sat back, a smug smirk on her face.

Grantaire stiffened, which thankfully no one noticed. When had they agreed to that? She was the one who insisted on paying for everything! There was no way he'd be able to afford the most expensive restaurant in town!

"Mom, will you at least try to talk some sense into him?" Enjolras groaned.

"Darling, we just don't want you to get hurt." Annette smiled.

"He's right here! You don't have to treat him like this! Especially since he's_ right here_! He can hear everything we're saying. Why do you think I barely come home anymore? You don't treat the people I care about most with respect! If you want, we can leave!" Enjolras shouted, drawing a couple stares but he knew she didn't mind.

"Don't leave." Sebastien hissed.

Enjolras made to stand up.

"Sit down, young lady." Sebastien growled.

Enjolras cocked an eyebrow in defiance.

"Julia Rose Enjolras, you sit down young lady or so help me I will ground you!" Sebastien's voice didn't go above a whisper but Grantaire could feel the threat.

Enjolras's mouth dropped open in surprise, "Ground me? What am I twelve? You haven't grounded me in years."

"There hasn't been a need since." Sebastien ground out.

"I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions. I date who I want to date and I don't need your damn permission." Enjolras shot back.

Grantaire watched in fasciation and he allowed himself to digest Sebastien's words.

"Rose? Your middle name is Rose?" Grantaire burst out laughing.

Enjolras went beet red.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry but I never thought you would have that name! I thought it would be more like Leah or Marie." Grantaire forced his laughter down as Enjolras went redder.

"Julia Leah? That does not sound at all pleasant." Annette made a disgusted face and Grantaire chuckled.

"I swear to God, you call me my flower or some variation, I will kill you." Enjolras growled.

"I won't. You're my Enj, not my Rose. But it's still pretty funny." Grantaire smirked.

"Don't tell Courfeyrac." Enjolras snapped.

"As you wish." Grantaire quoted.

Enjolras just nodded.

"Do you know what movie I just quoted?" Grantaire frowned.

She shook her head.

Grantaire gasped. "Have you ever heard of the Princess Bride?"

"Oh I've heard of that movie. It's just romance." Enjolras dismissed.

Grantaire slammed his utensils down. "It is so much more than that. Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles… I need to show you this movie. This mistake needs to be rectified. Movie night."

"Don't you have work tonight?" Enjolras asked.

"Whenever we have our next movie night. Instead of Breakfast Club, we'll watch Princess Bride." Grantaire shrugged.

"All right." Enjolras smiled.

Sebastien cleared his throat.

Enjolras cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, Daddy?"

Sebastien sat uncomfortably. Annette leaned over and whispered something to him.

"All right. So how's school?" Sebastien conceded to his wife's point. Whatever it was.

"School is going better than expected. I'd have my degree early if I didn't have to take so many electives." Enjolras groaned.

"Electives are good for you. That's how you explore." Annette chastised her lightly.

The rest of the lunch passed pretty much the same. Enjolras would answer most of the questions and Grantaire would sit in silence.

"I'll drive you to work, R." Enjolras offered when the lunch was over.

"Um, unless you want to pick me up to then you gotta just drive me home. My car is there." Grantaire stopped.

"Oh." Enjolras frowned.

"Besides, are you allowed to drive?" Grantaire asked seriously.

"We had this conversation already. I'm feeling much better and I drove here!" Enjolras protested.

Grantaire smiled and kissed her cheek. Enjolras relaxed when she realized he was teasing and shook her head in exasperated fondness.

"I still think I should drive." Grantaire teased and grabbed the keys. They climbed into the car and he headed home.

"There's no meeting tonight, right?" Grantaire asked.

"No. It's tomorrow. We moved it because too many people called and canceled. Very busy Friday I suppose." Enjolras answered.

"So when did we decide about the L'a Coup de Forde?" Grantaire tried to be casual but didn't quite make it.

"We didn't. I was lying." She chuckled, seemingly amused.

He gasped. "You lied?"

"You act like this is the first time I've ever lied to my parents. I was a normal child. And I had a secret dates with my boyfriend. Or a not-so-secret dates with my boyfriend as it turns out but I still snuck out and lied about what we were doing." She amended.

"_You_ snuck out? I thought you only snuck out because Combeferre banned you from doing something and you think you should do it anyways." He laughed.

"I'm not that bad." She muttered.

"And I am reminded of the ecoterrorist event just a few months ago." He teased.

"I didn't know they were ecoterrorist group!" She protested.

"Combeferre told you to stay away from them! But no! You knew best! You had to go and get involved with the planning of a bomb! How in the hell Larmarque got you from being thrown into federal prison is beyond me!" He reminded.

Enjolras went quiet for a time. She tried for a smile and said, "He convinced them that I was just in the wrong place in the wrong time. I was looking to change the world and they had lied to me."

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's okay. I need to learn from my mistake with Jack. I can't run and hide from him for the rest of my life. You're right I need to deal with what happened not stay away from the subject. You know you're actually a very smart man." She praised.

"Gee, I don't know, well-" He stuttered.

"I wouldn't date anyone with low intelligence. Now are you free tonight?" She huffed.

"I don't get off work until ten." He answered.

She grinned. "That's fine. Swing by my place? Pick me up?"

"Sure. Right after work." He matched it as he pulled up to his apartment.

"See you then." She said, kissed him goodbye and he went to work.

"You look fantastic." Emma noticed immediately.

"She and I are back together." He replied.

Emma broke into a huge smile.

Work was enjoyable but near the end he was getting antsy. The minute he closed the shop he took off like a shot towards Enjolras. He had missed her so much.

"That was quick." Enjolras laughed when he came through the door.

He kissed her to shut her up. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

She shoved a picnic basket into his hand, grabbed a handful of pillows and blankets and walked out. He followed her to the roof.

"Midnight picnic?" He asked.

She spread out the blanket and pillows

"Since I can't go out, I thought we could at least do this." She said, sitting down.

He smiled and sat down next to her, curling close to her. She pulled out sandwiches and handed one to him.

"I made these myself. And I made one for Combeferre so they're not poisonous." Enjolras beamed.

He grinned and accepted a sandwich. It was half-decent.

"Delicious." He praised.

They ate in almost silence and it wasn't long before they finished.

"So is this an official forgiveness for breaking up with you?" He asked lightly, but his heart started to pound a bit.

"If I hadn't forgiven you for breaking up with me than I wouldn't have brought you to my parents. I forgave you a while ago." She kissed his neck.

He smiled, then shivered but then for some reason tears started to roll down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I just thought I'd lost you forever and now you're being way too wonderful and I was an ass and I'm sorry I don't know why I'm crying."

"Hey now. It's okay." She kissed the tears away but then her face turned serious. "Just don't ever break up with me like that again."

"Yes, ma'am." He replied instantly.

She nodded and cuddled up to him.

He shook his head fondly and began pointing out what constellations he knew, even some that weren't in the sky at the moment. The Zodiac, Sirius, Orion, and a few others. She listened in contented silence. It took him a little while longer then he'd like to admit to realize he'd talked her to sleep. He gently carried her down to her bed, deciding to get the stuff from the roof when she was in bed. After he'd gotten her pillow and blankets from the roof and he'd tucked her in, she scared him as she grabbed his wrist. She didn't seem to be awake.

"Stay." She whispered.

He didn't have the heart to refuse. "Of course."

He kissed her cheek and stole one of Combeferre's pair of sweatpants to sleep in since it was getting cold. He changed and crawled into bed with her. She snuggled close to him and buried her head into his chest.

She mumbled, "Do you have work tomorrow?"

"No, tomorrow is Saturday and it's my day off." He assured her.

He stayed awake, just reveling in her appearance and the tranquility bestowed upon her in sleep. Combeferre turned the knob a little after one. Well, he knew it had to be Combeferre. No one else would have access.

Combeferre opened the door and was frowned when he saw Grantaire there.

"Hello. I'm here." Grantaire tried for a smile.

"I just wanted to make sure she wasn't sleeping on her stomach. I have to do this every night." Combeferre said, strictly business. "Make sure she sleeps on her side or back. Or on you. Just no pressure on the wound."

"You okay?" Grantaire asked, his friend was almost never this hard in personality.

"Hard day at the hospital. Get some sleep." Combeferre started to leave before turning back. "And by the way, how do you take your eggs?"

"Uh, scrambled?" Grantaire replied confusedly.

He nodded and closed the door. Grantaire shrugged it off, made sure Enjolras was still on him and not on her wound, and then sleep descended fast.

Sometime in the night, he felt something change. Enjolras was moving, thrashing a bit then she stopped. He hadn't gotten enough sleep at all and he cracked an eye open, just on the edge of sleep. Enjolras had stood up, probably to go to the bathroom. He didn't move but instead a door opening he heard her moving boxes around. She found whatever she was looking for and then the bed dipped again. He couldn't see anything and Enjolras had returned so he just closed his eye again and went back to sleep.

Scrambled eggs are waiting for him the next morning. He could smell them. He rubbed his face to wake up and slowly extracted himself from Enjolras, who still slept. With something in her hand. He frowned and tried to get a better look. Enjolras curled on her side, clutching a stuffed dog to her chest. It was white and brown, like something you'd find in a teddy bear shop. He clamped a hand over his mouth to stop the noise when he saw the dog was dressed as a policeman. The hat was on her bedside table. In this moment, Enjolras looked just like as innocent and pure as a child. Grantaire smiled so wide his cheeks began to hurt. He carefully exited the room and Combeferre opened his mouth to greet him.

"Sh!" Grantaire shushed.

Combeferre frowned.

"Come here. This is adorable." Grantaire waved him over.

Combeferre did as he asked and then Grantaire showed him the sleeping girl. Combeferre's face softened and he smiled.

Grantaire went and retrieved his phone from his pocket and snapped a couple dozen pictures.

"Are you going to show everyone?" Combeferre asked.

"Of course not. You think she'd trust me if I spilled the beans that she sleeps with a stuffed animal?" Grantaire countered.

Combeferre nodded, satisfied. "That's what I thought."

Grantaire had a sudden feeling he had passed a test he didn't know he was taking.

"But you are going to share that with me, aren't you?" Combeferre asked.

Grantaire nodded.

Combeferre smiled. "Let's just let her sleep."

He nodded again.

Scrambled eggs, bacon, and French toast were finished rather quickly.

"All I eat is breakfast food nowadays." Grantaire teased.

Combeferre smiled, getting the joke. "What about the sandwiches?"

"Sacrificed for the sake of the joke." Grantaire informed him.

"Ah." Combeferre laughed.

"Did you know her middle name is Rose?" Grantaire asked, just now remembering.

"No. No, I didn't. Rose? Julia Rose?" Combeferre tried it out.

"I know. However, if you tell another soul, I will not stop her from murdering you." Grantaire stated.

Combeferre's smile shook. "I understand."

Grantaire smiled then both were startled when 'Totally Fucked' from Spring Awakening started playing.

"That's not my phone." Grantaire put up his hands.

"Well it's not mine, I'll be right back." Combeferre hurried into Enjolras's room so she wasn't woken by the ringtone.

"Hello… this is Etienne… yes, she's asleep… oh I see… why don't you come to the meeting tonight… In the Musain, at six… yes… oh yes, you'd definitely be able to make that yes… all right… sure, I'll tell her when she wakes up… See you then. Goodbye." It was easy to overhear from Enjolras's room.

"That was her parents." Combeferre said, barely holding in laughter.

"Her ringtone for her parents is 'Totally Fucked'?" Grantaire grinned.

Combeferre nodded.

They could only keep their laughter stifled for a minute before collapsing into a laughing fit so strong Combeferre had to sit down in order to not fall over.

"We gotta be quiet. She's sleeping." Combeferre gasped out.

"Otherwise, we're going to be totally fucked." Grantaire shot and laughter consumed them once again.

It took a long time to calm down. Each breathless, they slumped in their chairs and heaved with brilliant smiles still plastered onto their faces.

"Her food's going to get cold." Grantaire noticed.

"Normally, she's up by now. But she's been a pretty deep sleeper these past few weeks." Combeferre replied.

"Should we wake her?" Grantaire asked.

"When did she fall asleep last night?" Combeferre responded.

"About midnight, midnight thirty." Grantaire guessed.

"Well, it's about ten now so she should be getting up. I got her." Combeferre hauled himself up and met Enjolras coming out the door.

Her hair was sticking up, her eyes drooped, and her body seemed smaller. The stuffed dog was nowhere in sight.

"Morning." She yawned.

"I got breakfast for you. Coffee's in the pot." Combeferre smiled.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" She spat.

Combeferre frowned. They knew Enjolras was almost never this snappy without reason.

"Sorry I didn't sleep very well last night. My chest was hurting." She sighed.

"Do you want some Tylenol?" Combeferre asked.

It surprised them both when she nodded. Combeferre's face said it all.

"Sure sweetie." Combeferre went and got the pills.

She downed them dry, grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the table.

"Morning, Taire." She murmured.

"You okay?" Grantaire asked.

She nodded. "I'll be fine."

They let her eat in silence since she obviously didn't want to be disturbed. Grantaire had a sneaking suspicion that her chest hurting was not the only reason she hadn't slept well. After all, stuffed animals were great for chasing away nightmares.

"I'm going over to Courfeyrac's today. Will you be okay on your own?" Combeferre said, and Grantaire realized that Combeferre was already dressed and ready to go.

"I can hang with her today." Grantaire offered.

"Either one is fine." She shrugged.

"All right. I'm heading over." Combeferre went to the door. "Oh by the way, your parents are coming to the meeting tonight, bye."

"Wait, what?" She called after him but he was already gone.

Grantaire smiled.

"Why are they coming to the meeting? The last time they made Jehan cry." She pouted.

"I'm sure they have their reasons." Grantaire tried.

She sulked. "This is my life. Must they interfere with it?"

"You have something to announce, don't you?" He accused.

"There's a protest that's going on in Belle Mina. Another white officer has killed another unarmed black man and I am going. It's next week." She admitted.

"I see. And you don't want your parents knowing?" He tried.

"They will not approve. They believe what the news tells them about this fabricated war on police. There is no war on police. There's a reason only a couple of networks are saying so. They're trying to scare the white population into being afraid of the black population. It's ridiculous." She sighed.

"I'm sorry." He muttered.

"Well, perhaps they won't stay long." She smiled.

"So what was your nightmare about?" He asked casually.

"I don't remember much. Gunshots, screams, that's about it." She admitted. "How did you know? Did I wake you?"

"No. But I knew when I woke up." He said, carefully avoiding he saw her with her little police dog.

She nodded and blushed. "You saw that?"

He nodded. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Okay then. I'm not going to. It's not that I don't trust you-" She started.

"It's okay to have things you want to keep private. You're a very private person I understand that." He interrupted.

She nodded.

"So don't worry." He grinned.

She smiled gently. "Would you mind if you hung with you today?"

"I'd love that." He leaned over and kissed her.

"I wouldn't mind spending the day like that." She chuckled when they broke apart.

He kissed her again.

"I have some homework to do so I may not be good company for a bit." He said when they arrived at his apartment, a little while later.

"I don't mind." She just flopped onto his couch and settled.

"Oh yes, feel free to get comfortable." He said ironically.

"I can't get comfortable on your couch but I'll try." She shot back.

He rolled his eyes fondly. He grabbed his laptop and sat down under her feet. He propped the laptop on her legs and started working.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Paper on how the Renaissance changed how the world perceived art." He answered.

"I'm surprised you have so many papers." She said.

"It's an art history class. All the homework we have is papers. Some aren't that long, some are." He replied, not really paying attention.

She hummed and lapsed back into silence. He typed, cited, and copied paste until he'd gotten about halfway done. Enjolras it seemed had stolen his phone and was playing on it. He cocked an eyebrow.

"You have better games than I do. Also I beat your high score." She smiled haughtily.

"Actually, the person you should be bragging to is Joly. I almost never play games on my phone. Drains the battery." Grantaire stated, putting his newest citation onto his Works Cited page.

"Is there an outlet somewhere near the couch?" She asked.

He pointed behind him. She got up, plugged his charger into said outlet and put her legs back on his lap. He worked on without really noticing. He was on a roll and he didn't want to stop in case he lost all this inspiration. She'd understand.

He was three-fourths of the way finished when his door flew open. Both jumped a bit as Cosette came marching into his apartment, ranting. She was in a white dress, with a red sash, with her hair tied up in a tight bun. She looked like a blonde Mary Poppins.

"I can't believe this! I've been working with them for months and this is how they treat me? I've been the one getting information, being the connection between them and us and I've been doing great work. And this is the thanks I get?"

"Cosette, what's wrong?" He asked, saving his paper. He loved Cosette, but he wasn't risking losing his paper.

She whirled around, her dress flowing with her, and then she noticed Enjolras.

"Hi, sweetie. I'm glad to see you out of the house." Cosette went and kissed Enjolras's cheek.

"It's good to see you too." Enjolras replied.

"Cosette, what's wrong?" He repeated.

"You know I've been the one working with the police since Enjolras couldn't?" She answered.

He nodded.

"I was wondering about that." Enjolras muttered.

"Well, you know that list of family and friends you gave me? They cross-checked it, or something, with something they got and they got a lead on Rachel. But now they won't tell me anything, other than they won't comment on an on-going investigation. I gave them the on-going investigation!" Cosette vented.

"They got a lead. That's something." He shrugged.

"I should be included on this!" Cosette replied.

"Cosette, remember I made you promise to not engage?" He reminded her.

"I'm not engaging. With her. I want to engage with the police." Cosette loop-holed.

"Cosette, this all seems very kind of you but even I have to back off eventually. They've been trained to handle suspects like her. We haven't." Enjolras tried.

"I know. But I want to be there to make sure she's caught. I wouldn't trust anything other than me. Or you, if that's the case." Cosette added.

He sighed. He'd never expected them to get caught. It was a weird feeling. But he knew his sister. She wouldn't get caught. She'd never been caught before.

"Well, the most we can do now is wait." He supplied.

"I don't want to wait." Cosette pouted.

"Unfortunately, that's the best option we got right now." He said.

Cosette frowned.

"Cosette, we must trust in the police." Enjolras started.

"But don't you say to never trust the police?" Cosette replied.

"Well, we shouldn't trust the police when it comes to a clear cut case of abuse of power. But we must trust the police to do their jobs. When I say fuck the police, I don't mean the police who do everything in their power to help the citizens and arrest the people who put us in danger." Enjolras explained.

Cosette deflated. "I'm scared."

"That's a good thing. It means you've got a sense of self-preservation." He responded.

"I'm tired of being scared of her. I mean, I like rooming with Ep, and I'm glad that Papa is listening to me but I'm really tired of being so scared. We have lives to move on with." Cosette snapped.

Grantaire felt a pit of guilt build in his stomach. As he was raised in this life, he'd never bothered to be scared. After all, he did earn their word. That was enough for him. But he'd never thought that his friends would still be scared. He knew it might barely enter their minds but he didn't know it was such a forefront in Cosette's.

"Don't worry. They have a good lead and that means they're close. I think Rachel will be much more focused on getting away from the police than coming back. For now, I think we're safe as can be." Enjolras assured her.

Cosette smiled and nodded.

"So I'm guessing that you haven't been contacted with the news." Cosette noticed.

Actually, he had. He'd gotten a phone call during work yesterday and a voicemail. Javert had called and told him of the lead but he had known that it wouldn't amount to much. Nothing ever did. No one had ever been able to do so before.

"Maybe. I was at work yesterday." He shrugged. He decided a half-truth was better than an outright lie.

Cosette nodded. "I didn't know you worked on Fridays."

"I usually open. I open a lot. But Etienne called me and asked if we could switch shifts since he had a big midterm later than his normal early classes so I switched. Normally, I open, go to class and then hit the meeting." He explained.

Cosette nodded, satisfied.

"What were you doing?" Cosette asked.

"Art history paper." He answered.

"Beating Joly's high score at Tetris." Enjolras smiled.

Cosette giggled. "Move over, I wanna try."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" He asked as he scooted and Enjolras put her thighs on his lap. It wasn't the most comfortable.

"Not til the meeting. Already finished my homework and Eponine's working right now. Marius is with Combeferre and Courfeyrac so you've got me til the meeting." Cosette chirped.

He groaned. "There's too much estrogen in this house."

"It's not a house, it's an apartment." Enjolras corrected.

He rolled his eyes and tried to go back to his paper. Of course, he'd lost his inspiration. But Enjolras had occupied Cosette's attention with Tetris and so he did his best to try and continue. He turned down the volume of the room as best as he could and tried to focus on his paper. Well, with both Enjolras and Cosette here, he totally failed.

"You know, you're more fun with R around." Cosette said.

"What do you mean?" Enjolras asked.

"You seem more… relaxed. It's a good look for you." Cosette explained.

"Keep going." Enjolras prompted.

"I mean, you're not usually the type of person to play games on your boyfriend's phone while he writes just to be close to him." Cosette tried.

"Why does everyone assume I'm not that person?" Enjolras grumbled.

"Enjolras, honey, up until about a few months ago, you hated him." Cosette stated.

"I never hated him." Enjolras protested.

"You acted like you hated him. You always got so frustrated with him, you fought with him constantly, and you kind of looked at him like he was trash." Leave it to Cosette to get right to the heart of things.

"I did not!" Enjolras countered.

"You did too. " Cosette said.

"You know, he's right here. He's not agreeing with you." Enjolras defended.

"He's not agreeing with you either. Besides, he's not listening. He's focused on his paper." He kept quiet at her assumption. He wouldn't mind hearing what Enjolras had to say because in truth Cosette was mostly right. Enjolras hadn't always been so kind to him.

Enjolras didn't answer her but he knew she was pouting. Ask any Ami and they'd tell you the same thing.

"Sweetie, I'm not trying to insult you. Or him. All I'm saying is that you're better around him." Cosette backtracked.

"We haven't been dating that long." Enjolras huffed.

"This counts. This was a long time in the making and you two have always been destined for each other." Cosette replied.

"I don't believe in destiny." Enjolras said, her voice lofty.

"You don't have to." Cosette said.

"Look, I know you're into the whole romanticized destiny and stuff but I'm not." Enjolras groaned.

"All I'm saying is that you and R are good for each other. You make him smile in ways I haven't seen in a long time. He makes you seem more human. It works." Cosette chirped.

"I am tired of this marble statue metaphor. Who started that, by the way?" Enjolras asked, thoroughly annoyed.

Grantaire swallowed. He had.

"I don't know." Cosette answered. "That was already here by the time I met you."

Enjolras huffed.

"Oh relax. It's not hurting you. Now, come on. Enough of this heavy talk. Now onto greater things." Cosette dramatized.

"Like what?" Enjolras asked, wary.

"Like what kind of party we're going to have for Christmas." Cosette smiled.

Grantaire stiffened. It seemed Cosette did not know Enjolras's stance on Christmas. He hit save and put his laptop to the side and grabbed Enjolras and brought her close.

"It's November. We do not begin discussing Christmas until after November." He informed Cosette as he clamped a hand over Enjolras's mouth. "She's very insistent on that."

Cosette nodded, slightly terrified.

Enjolras tried talking through Grantaire's hand and he just shushed her.

"Let's change the subject." Grantaire tried, Enjolras still struggling against his hand.

"Maybe I should just drive to the meeting by myself." Cosette backed away quickly.

"That's probably best." Enjolras licked his hand but he couldn't let go. "I'm not going to let you lose your venom on this poor, ignorant girl. She's only a baby."

Cosette just smiled as if something had been made clear to her. "I know she's teasing, but I'll give you two some time alone."

She closed the door on her way out. Enjolras frowned. He let her go and wiped her spit on her clothes.

"Talking about Christmas before November is over, I ask you. That's crazy. Isn't that crazy?" Enjolras growled.

"That's crazy." Grantaire agreed.

Enjolras slumped. "Sometimes I forget it's after October. What did we end up doing for Halloween?"

"Nothing. You were in the hospital. Nobody even realized it was Halloween until we started seeing Christmas everywhere." Grantaire answered.

"What did she mean, giving us some time alone?" She frowned.

"I've no idea." He shrugged.

"It's five thirty. We should get going." She sighed and got up. "I have to meet my parents."

He followed suit and grabbed her hand. She squeezed back with a gentle smile. The drive was spent in comfortable silence. Enjolras was thinking and he didn't disturb her. The back room was half-full when they arrived, her parents having beaten them there.

"Hi, Mom. Dad." She hugged her parents.

Grantaire just gave a little wave.

"We can't stay long but we did want to say goodbye to you and your friends. We've got a train to catch in an hour." Annette said.

Enjolras nodded, looking a bit more relieved.

"Oh you act like we're so bad." Sebastien teased.

"I have a lot of work to do tonight. Things to discuss, and debate. I didn't want to spend too much time on you." Enjolras explained.

"That's my girl." Sebastien praised.

Enjolras blushed, apparently unused to this sort of praise. Grantaire assumed Sebastien had never shown any type of approval towards the work she does for the Amis.

When Marius, Combeferre and Courfeyrac showed up it seemed everyone was there and Enjolras grabbed a chair. She stood and everyone went silent, knowing the meeting was beginning.

"Hello, everyone. My parents have a few words to say to us all before we start and then we will get going about what's going on Belle Mina." Enjolras stepped down and everyone's attention was now on her parents.

Annette stepped forward. "Well, now that Julia is better now, we do have to get back to our jobs and our lives. We have had a wonderful time meeting all of you. I know it's been a bit rough but I'm very glad we have met all of you."

Everyone just smiled, unsure if she was finished, not wanting to interrupt.

"Yes, I must agree." Sebastien joined her. "I'm proud that Julia has been able to meet such wonderful people, even though she may be doing things she maybe should not be doing."

Everyone chuckled at his teasing tone. It made his statement much lighter.

"I know there were times when we didn't all agree." Annette blushed slightly and paused for a minute. "For a long time, I never understood why she never brought any of her friends back home to meet us. So I could never understand how she could come to love you all. But now I do. I know that we are different in many ways but all of you are always welcome in our home. However, this does not mean that you can bring everyone home for Christmas dinner, Julia, because I am _not_ cooking for that many people. I have a hard enough time making Christmas dinner for the relatives we do have."

Everyone burst into laughter, and Annette and Sebastien bid adieu to everyone. Enjolras stepped outside to tell her parents good-bye and they waited patiently for her to return. Enjolras then returned glowing and jumped back up onto the chair.

"Everyone ready?" She called, coming back into the wonderful, stunning stage persona he had missed so dearly.

They all cheered.

"Les Amis de l'ABC, there is another racial injustice in our fair country. Next Friday, instead of a normal meeting, Combeferre, Courfeyrac and I are traveling to Belle Mina for the day and we will stand with the Black Lives Matter group protesting the murder of unarmed black men! Who's with me?"

He found himself cheering with the rest of the group, caught up in the beauty of the woman he loved so dearly. Her golden locks glowed in the halo that seemed to show her ascendance to an angel complete. Her skin shone as if it was cut marble, freshly freed from the stone she was trapped in. In her eyes, the blue became stronger than a storm at sea. And when he looked into her eyes, his heart skipped a beat. For the first time in a long time, she was home.

* * *

**Well I'm glad I finished this. It's an early birthday gift to me. I'm turning 21 on Wednesday. Whoo!**

**Review, will ya?**


	23. Chapter 23

"Come on, R, keep your eyes open." Combeferre's voice was soothing but his tone was demanding.

He raised his heavy lids and saw Combeferre and Enjolras standing over him, worry written on both their faces. He was flat on his back, on hard ground, probably concrete, and his head was playing the drum solo Hot for Teacher over and over again.

"Don't frown. You'll get wrinkles." Grantaire teased, hoping to diffuse the tension.

If anything, the worry in Enjolras's eyes deepened.

"R, tell me everything you remember." Combeferre ordered.

"Um, we're in Belle Mina. Protest. Racial injustice, as you were screaming." Grantaire gestured to Enjolras. "Then, um, there was this gunshot, I don't know where it came from and people panicked. Enj tried to calm people down but everyone was just trying to escape, I don't blame them, guns are scary to normal people. She got hit by this big guy and I grabbed her. I threw over to you to get her out of the crowd and I fell. And I'm _fairly_ certain I got hit in the head and knocked out."

"Well, he's sarcastic. Is that a good sign?" Enjolras asked.

"It can be." Combeferre said.

"I'll be fine. I've had much worse." Grantaire dismissed.

"That doesn't dismiss your injuries now." Combeferre growled. He always got mad when his friends' were hurt and they tried to avoid his treatment. Usually this anger was reserved for Enjolras.

"I'm fine. I swear." Grantaire assured him.

Combeferre pursed his lips but sighed. "All right. But I want you to take it easy. No driving, no sudden movements, any dizziness, nausea, or any kind of symptom, you call me immediately."

"Aye, aye, sir." Grantaire chuckled.

"I'll stay with him too." Enjolras volunteered.

"All right. I'm going to head over to the meeting point, I'll tell everyone where you are." Combeferre put a hand on Enjolras's shoulder and squeezed. He offered a hand to Grantaire which he waved off. In all honesty, he wasn't sure going up too fast would help his case.

"We are going home." Enjolras stated.

"I figured." Grantaire snorted.

"Don't take that tone with me." Enjolras growled.

"Sassy." Grantaire teased.

"You stink." Enjolras groaned.

"I just showered." He protested.

"Your attitude stinks." She explained.

He nodded, and then his head hurt so he stopped.

"You bring your car?" He asked.

"Combeferre and I carpooled. You bring yours?" She answered.

"I carpooled with 'Chetta, Joly and Bousset. No point wasting gas." He replied.

"Okay. Combeferre can ride home with them." She nodded and wrapped her arm around him and led him to her car.

The noise was almost unbearable but thankfully, the riot had calmed down enough that she could get him over to her car without much incident. They still had to lay low, they both knew the cops would have no problems arresting them, even though they had done nothing wrong. But walking slowly and surely was enough to get past the cops and the other protesters barely paid them a glance. The ones that did either ignored them or asked if Grantaire was okay. He always answered in the affirmative. She drove him home in silence. He could tell she was worried but any time he tried to talk she never answered. So he stopped trying while she was driving. He'd get it out of her eventually. She drove him to his apartment, and ran to his door so she could help him get out.

"I'm not an invalid." He snapped, trying to squish the worry but it came out in his voice as annoyance.

She took a step back.

"I'm sorry. But I can handle myself. Are you okay? Your chest hurt?" He immediately apologized.

"No, no, I feel fine. My chest is fine. I mean, it's a little sore from the shouting but nothing really noticeable." She answered.

They headed up to his apartment and he grabbed a bottle of beer.

"If you're hurt, that's only going to make it worse." She growled. Her tone alone made him put it back.

"Enj, are you okay?" He asked. He put his hands on her arms and tried to look into her eyes.

She started sobbing, scaring him. He tried checking her over for any kind of wound they might have missed, but he didn't find any. That scared him more because he couldn't think of a reason for her to cry. Her mouth was moving and apologies flowed out but he could barely make sense of them. He brought her close but she broke his hold and walked away from him. She curled in on herself, like a wounded animal in a corner.

Finally, he made sense of the apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you got hurt, I didn't mean for it to happen, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm fine. It's okay." He said.

"No it's not okay! I'm terrified that this will happen every time that we go out to a protest and I know it's my fault for sending my friends into battle. Maybe even to their deaths!" She shouted, her voice choking on her final word, tears still streaming down her face.

"No one is going to die at a protest." He tried to assuage her but she didn't seem to hear.

"You're just the last in an ever-growing line to get trampled! People die because of that! I'm going to end up getting one of you killed at one of my rallies and it's only going to be my fault. No one else's." The river of tears mixed anger with fear and despair.

"It's not like you're sending us off to war. This isn't battle, we aren't your army. We're your friends. We believe in you. We chose to be here, you didn't make us. We chose to be with you. I chose to be with you." He dismissed her words, trying to get to her heart.

"You're my boyfriend. You're supposed to be with me." She muttered, almost hatefully.

"That's because there's nowhere I'd rather be." He insisted, putting his arms around her again.

"You got hurt." She repeated.

"Yeah, okay, I got hurt today. You got hurt once too. And I couldn't bear it. I hated seeing you in so much pain." He replied, tightening his hold on her.

"Is that when you knew you loved me?" Her voice was clear but soft. Afraid but still gentle. Her eyes held a wistfulness he couldn't understand.

"I don't think so. I don't think I loved you really, until I got to know you. But I knew I cared very deeply about you." He tried to answer as honestly as he could without making her uncomfortable.

"Combeferre said you loved me freshman year. Is that true?" She finally looked up and the emotions in her eyes nearly killed him.

He sighed and looked away. He could barely take her eyes but he knew she wanted his honesty. He gathered up the strength and admitted, "Yes and no. I know I loved the woman on stage, the mask you put on to get past your stage fright. She was incredible, beautiful and strong. Then I met you and that image didn't really disappear, Apollo. Then you threw me out but when I came back sober, you reluctantly accepted me. Then you started to talk to me, even if it was just during the debates. Then more. And I loved that. So yes I was in love but with the wrong person."

"So when did you start loving me? The real me?" She pressed.

"I don't know. Not long ago. But I've always cared about you." He confessed, getting slightly uncomfortable, not quite wanting to say 'I love you' just yet.

Her eyes went wide. "Sorry for putting you on the spot. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right." He smiled.

She blushed and started, "I-" but he put a finger on her lips.

"Hey, if you're not ready to say it, and you're only saying this because you want to make me feel better or something, then don't say it. That cheapens it. If you want to say it for you, not for me, then say it. But if there is anything and I mean anything that makes you feel like it's not the right time, then don't say it." He said, making sure he had eye contact, needing her to understand.

He dropped his hand and she stayed silent for a minute. His heart started hammering when she furrowed her brow, confused.

"Don't you want me to say it?" She asked.

He couldn't keep a scoff, breathless and scared, from escaping. "Of course I _want_ you to say it. But I want you to say it when you mean it with all your heart. When you're ready, when you want to say it, and when nothing else matters as much, then you say it. When your heart can't take it anymore and is on the brink of explosion, then say it. Otherwise, don't say it because it won't be genuine."

"You can be really romantic, you know that right?" She smiled, and he could've sworn he saw her eyes shining but there was no way she was crying over this. Must've been the light or residual tears from her earlier crying bit.

"Do you want to say it?" He asked.

"Not right now." She admitted. "That doesn't mean not ever."

"I know. Don't worry about me, I understand. I don't think I'm ready to say it either." He confessed.

He caught the barely audible whimper that seemed to catch in her throat. She turned away from him and brought her hand to her face.

"What's wrong?" He tried.

"Was any of that real?" Her voice was cold, but he could detect the fear in it.

"What?" He managed, completely thrown off by her question.

She turned back, and he stood stock still, shocked by the distrust in her eyes.

"About caring for me. Everything you just said. About how you feel about me." She asked, now unable to meet his eyes.

He realized the connection she'd just made in her mind. "Oh, no, no, sweetheart. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that I don't care very deeply about you, I always have and it only gets deeper every day. I simply meant that I don't think I'm ready to say I love you yet. I don't want to say it too soon, or when my heart's not truly sure of saying it. When I say it, it will be the right time, at the right place, and I promise you, you will know I'm not lying to you."

In one way, this was a lie. If anyone had asked him three months ago to say I love you to her he would've said it in an instant. And if she'd asked him, he would've said it. And meant it. Truly and deeply with all his heart. But he knew right now was the worst time to say that, and he wanted the first time he told her he loved her to be a memorable moment, not when she was just recovering from a spurt of crying. In another way, though, this was true. He was still getting to know the woman behind the curtain, a privilege never before given to anyone. And he wanted to make sure that when he did say it, he knew as much of her as he could and he could prove it to her that he truly loved her.

"So your heart told you that it was wrong?" She asked, her voice seemingly emotionless.

"No. My heart just told me to wait." He told her, brushing his lips against hers.

He didn't pull back, merely resting his forehead against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed and a small smile graced her face.

"And don't worry. If you ever want to hear that I love you, maybe not those words exactly, but I promise I'll tell you, all you have to do is say so. I'm your boyfriend. I'm supposed to make sure you get taken care of when you're feeling low." He smiled gently.

"But you're the one who's hurt! You pushed me out of the way and you could've been killed! I'm the one who should be taking care of you!" She pushed out of his embrace but then almost panicked when she realized she could've hurt him.

"Trust me, I'm fine. Didn't even need a hospital." He gently leaned down to kiss her, waiting for her to close the distance.

She didn't. She just frowned and stepped back, a wary expression on her face.

"The only reason we didn't take you there was because you asked for us not to. Do you remember that?" She asked, fear creeping back into her voice.

"If it were really that bad, Combeferre would've ignored me. Like he did that time when you broke your arm." He dismissed, not wanting to admit he didn't remember saying that.

"You didn't answer my question." She insisted.

"I'm fine. I promise." He tried.

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't trust you. I'm calling Joly."

"Not Combeferre?" He asked.

"He's not perfect. And I know you and him still aren't on the best of terms." She replied, digging through her purse.

"Come on. You know he would never misdiagnose someone on purpose, even if he had Napoleon himself. And we're not on bad terms, we're just figuring some things out. It's weird dating your friend's sister. But we're still good friends. He'd come running if I asked and vice versa." He admonished.

"I'm still calling Joly. If only for a second opinion. It won't hurt you." She decided, finding her phone.

He grabbed his chest and mimicked a line from West Side Story. "Oh it hurts, it hurts."

"Oh shut up." She snapped.

"You know there are other things we could do..." He started kissing her neck, until she squirmed away.

"Oh no, no, no! You are potentially injured and that is not a good idea. We are not doing that." She put the phone to her ear.

"We could…" He trailed off, grabbing her hand and bringing her back.

"Joly?" She perked up a bit.

"Well, way to spoil to the mood." He muttered, sulking slightly.

"Oh shut up. Oh no, not you Joly, I'm yelling at R… Have you guys left yet… Is 'Ferre with you… Oh, okay… Got it… I have the car and I wanted to make sure he got home okay… We did and that's one of the reasons I'm calling… Can you swing by Taire's place… No, no, everything's probably fine, I'm just probably paranoid but can you check R out… Thanks. I owe you one… No, that doesn't count… It does not… Fine call us even with this. Thanks, Joly." She hung up.

He pouted.

"Don't look at me like that." She retorted. "I'm trying to help you.

"I don't need help." He countered.

"Then just humor me, okay?" She snapped, and he realized that she wasn't annoyed, she was worried. "I know I'm probably paranoid but please. Please. For me."

"Okay. For you." He accepted. Nothing else had to be said.

"I'm sorry. You can't do that to me and I do that to you. That's not fair." She murmured.

"It's not like that. I'm doing this because you're afraid and I want you to not be afraid. You're worried and if you need Joly to check me out then I'll let Joly check me out. That's not end-all be-all for me. I can do things that you ask me to and it doesn't mean as much to me. So certain things will mean certain things to both of us but that doesn't necessarily mean it will have the same meaning for each of us. That's really not uncommon." He assured her.

"All right." She sighed.

"I'm fine." He said.

"I know you've said that." She muttered.

She must have caught the confusion that flittered over his face for just a moment.

"R, what have we been talking about?" She asked.

"You were being paranoid." He answered with confidence.

"And before that?" She pressed.

"You were crying." He stated.

"How did you get hurt?" She asked.

He stopped. He searched his memory but he couldn't find the answer. He knew he must've been hurt, his head felt like it was squeezed between two pistons, but he couldn't remember what happened.

"So she's not paranoid." Joly was suddenly in his apartment, medical bag in hand. Shit, he knew his apartment and Joly's was close but that was ninja like skill. He didn't even hear him opening the door.

"I guess so." She sighed.

"Sit down." Joly's tone gave no room for argument.

He did so, and lost his balance as he fell into his couch cushions.

"You were right to call me, Enjolras." Joly addressed, opening his kit.

Having been tested for a concussion before, he recognized the questions. He answered them to the best of his ability, which wasn't much but he got some answers right.

"He has a minor concussion. Not something to worry about." Joly assured Enjolras when she got a look of panic. "This means avoiding general physical exertion until you have no symptoms."

Grantaire perked up. That meant no exercise. Just lying around watching TV.

"I know what you're thinking and no, you can't. This rest I'm assigning you also includes limiting activities that require thinking and mental concentration, such as watching TV, schoolwork, reading, texting or using a computer. And no drinking!" Joly ordered.

"Come on Joly. I'm fine. I can watch TV. I'm going to get so bored." Grantaire protested.

"I don't care. Don't even think about it. Feel lucky I'm not dragging your ass to the hospital." Joly snapped.

Grantaire slumped and put his head in his hands.

"I'll stay with you." Enjolras offered.

Grantaire shrugged. The dip in the couch told him she'd joined him.

"And, oh God, I feel so uncomfortable saying this, I don't know if you two have gotten to this point already but I need to say it anyways, oh fuck I hate this, no sex. That's too much physical exertion." Joly stuttered out.

All three went beet red.

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Joly." Enjolras managed.

"R, I'm sorry but I got to do this. Otherwise, you won't heal. This will probably last a few days at most hopefully." Joly sighed, trying his best to get over his embarrassment.

"I gotta call Emma. I can't go to work apparently." Grantaire reached for his phone.

"That can wait for a little while. Why don't you get some rest?" Joly stayed his hand.

"I don't need to be coddled." Grantaire snapped.

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying rest will get this over with faster." Joly explained.

He huffed but nodded once, his headache slamming back into him.

"Man, this is like being hungover without the fun of drinking the night before." Grantaire muttered.

"I'm sorry." Enjolras whispered.

"So no TV, no school, no work, no exercise and no phone. Anything else I should know?" Grantaire asked, not ignoring Enjolras but he knew Joly hadn't heard her.

"Enjolras, when he falls asleep, wake him up about every few hours and make sure he doesn't have memory problems. Just set an alarm. You don't have to pull an all-nighter." Joly advised.

She nodded, or at least he assumed she did.

"All right. Do you want me to pretend to be a doctor and sign a note for you?" Joly asked.

"No. My teachers will believe me if I say I have a concussion. That's not exactly an excuse people use all the time." Grantaire replied.

"Have Enjolras email them. No computer." Joly ordered.

"I got it." Enjolras answered before he could.

"Okay." Joly leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Rest and this will be over soon. I'll check back in with you tomorrow."

"I'll leave the door open for you." Grantaire smiled.

Joly grinned.

"If you have any questions, call me or Ferre. Either of us will do." Joly told Enjolras.

"I will, of course." Enjolras gave Joly a hug good-bye and he headed out.

"Would you mind calling Emma? I want to give her enough time to schedule my replacement." Grantaire handed Enjolras his phone.

"Sure." Enjolras took it and he saw her scroll through his contacts.

"She's speed-dial seven by the way." Grantaire informed her.

She nodded and called.

"Hello, Miss Emma… I'm sorry that's all I know you as… Oh I'm so sorry, my name is Julia. Julia Enjolras… yes, her… he has… I see… the reason I'm calling instead of him is because we were at a protest, I don't know if he told you… he did, okay, so unfortunately, it went rather wrong and he was hurt… it's minor, it's minor I swear… he has a minor concussion… one of our medical student friends, he interns and works directly with doctors, says that the treatment involves no work or school… I'm not sure how long but Joly said it would only be a few days at most… Joly, James Joly yes… I'll tell him… yes, that seems reasonable… he's right here, I can ask- all right… it was nice to meet you too… goodbye."

"What did she say?" He asked.

"She said that she understood, she had a fun time in college too, and you were to call her when you got better and if you needed food. You talk about me?" She replied.

"Well, yeah. I have to for certain conversations." He responded unsurely, not sure where this was going.

"And you talk and talk and talk? She said for a long time I was all you talked about." She pressed, smirking.

He blushed and ducked his head. "I guess."

"That's adorable." She stroked his hair gently. "You should get some sleep."

He sighed. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope." She popped the 'p'.

"Fine." He stood, balanced himself since he got a little dizzy and headed to bed. She followed him.

"I'll wake you up in about two hours." She told him.

"Feel free to help yourself whatever you want." He gestured vaguely to his apartment.

"I'll email your teachers for you." She smiled.

"It's not locked by password. I don't do much but schoolwork on it." He said.

"You don't draw on your computer?" She asked.

"I'm not much of a digital art person. I prefer paints and charcoal." He replied.

"Okay. Now sleep." She commanded softly.

He smiled, leaned forward and she closed the distance to kiss him, softly, chastely. Her fingers ghosted over his hands and when she pulled away, he could still feel her touch against his skin. She left the room and he flopped down onto bed. He didn't realize how tired he was until he actually laid down with his head on a pillow. He was out before he even finished the thought.

"Taire, get up. Come on, I gotta ask you some questions." Enjolras's voice brought him back. He felt like he'd had a good nap. He pulled himself up and leaned close to her.

"Fire away." He prompted.

"Okay, so what is your name?" She asked.

"Taire, Grantaire." He said in a bad imitation of James Bond.

"R! Come on." She groaned, and he detected a hint of worry.

"Nicolas Evan Grantaire." He answered, dutifully.

"And what's my name?" She asked.

"Julia Rose Enjolras." He answered,

"And what happened today?" She asked.

"We went to a protest, gun shot, panic, I got knocked out, and I now have a concussion because of it." He answered.

"Okay. Who came to check you out?" She asked.

"James Joly." He answered.

"Last one. What kind of car do you drive?" She asked.

"What no asking for the date?" He replied.

"I figured you'd get tired of stuff like that." She said. "Car."

"Honda Element." He answered.

"All right. I think you're good for now. You want to go back to sleep?" She asked.

"Nah. I'm good. What are you doing?" He asked.

"I emailed your teachers and then played solitaire until my alarm went off. I also bumped up your win average." She smiled.

"Oh thank you for that." He chuckled.

"Also, you cheat." She mentioned.

"I do not." He protested.

"You play with one card draw instead of three. You cheat." She accused.

"I still lose a lot, as you should know." He grumbled.

"How is beyond me." She muttered.

He nudged her side playfully. She nudged him back. He wrapped a hand around her waist and brought himself closer to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his collarbone. Realizing (at least he was hoping he read the cues right) that she wanted to cuddle, not make-out, he leaned back to lie down and she snuggled closer to him. She hummed contentedly from his chest and her leg wrapped around his and he rubbed his thumb against the nape of her neck.

For a time, he didn't know how long, they just lay there. They simply lay there, enjoying each other's company, listening to each other breathe. At one point, he sort of drifted into limbo, the stage where you're not really asleep but you're not really awake. Then something entered his ears. Snorting. No, not snorting. Snoring. Soft snoring. Aw shit, he was snoring. He closed his mouth as to not embarrass himself further, Enjolras was probably wide awake. But the sound continued. Then he woke up fully, and realized the sound was not coming from him. A whisper of a laugh left his lips before he caught it and he kissed her forehead. She must've been exhausted, she'd probably gotten only a few hours of sleep before heading out. She never slept before a rally, although she said she did. Besides, she trusted him enough to fall asleep against him. She had gotten into a habit after she got out of the hospital of only doing this with Combeferre. Maybe he should've just should chalked it up to exhaustion, but he wanted to believe she trusted him.

"_And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's meant to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_"

His phone went off and he scrambled to find it before it woke Enjolras, but he knew it was too late when she snatched the phone out of his hands.

"Hello?" She answered. "He's indisposed, may I take a message?"

He waited while she frowned.

"My name is Julia Enjolras, I do believe this also concerns me."

He frowned and she shook her head at him.

"I see. We will be there right away." She hung up. "Joly is going to kill me but apparently, we're needed down at the police station."

"The police station? Our police station? Are we getting arrested?" He asked.

"We aren't." She said. "Rachel is."

He stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Never in a million years had he even suspected that Rachel would get caught. This… needed more thought.

"Stop thinking so hard. Did you understand me?" She chastised.

"I understand." He murmured.

"You look like you're about to faint, I'm calling them back." She started but he stopped her hand.

"I'm okay. I'm just- stupefied." He swallowed.

"Do you want to go?" She questioned.

"We should go. If they called, they want us down there and right now I think it's better if we don't piss off the police any further." He untangled his legs from hers and stood up. He blinked away the dizzy spell and got his shoes on.

"Don't think I didn't see that. I'm calling Combeferre to come and watch you. I'll go to the police." She snapped.

"I'll have to go down there eventually." He protested, but his stomach churned at the thought. He couldn't risk Rachel knowing he was there or the deal he made with his parents was off, and his friends' were in grave danger.

"I'm sure they could get an identification with just me. After all, I'm the one she shot." She stated confidently.

"Keep that confidence. I've met her lawyers. They're slime. And they will do everything they can to make you doubt yourself." He advised.

"I know how defense attorneys are." She tried but he shook his head.

"You don't know how to get away with murder. They do." He pressed.

"I believe you. I'll be all right." She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Go back to bed."

He sighed and nodded. He took his shoes off and climbed back into bed. She packed up her purse and called Combeferre. When he was on his way, she turned back to him.

"I'm sure Combeferre can find some way to entertain you." She kissed him goodbye. "I'll come see you when I'm done."

He waved and she left. He stared at the ceiling for about ten agonizing minutes before Combeferre showed.

"Hey. I am so sorry about this." Combeferre hugged him tight.

"Relax. You're not perfect." Grantaire dismissed, kissing his cheek.

"I brought a book, to make the time pass faster." Combeferre offered, almost overly forceful.

"It's all right. Take a breath. I'm okay. It's minor. And you really think Enjolras is going to let me do anything strenuous? I'll bet she'd skip class if she could." Grantaire put his hand on Combeferre's arm.

"If she could, what do you mean?" Combeferre's brow creased.

"Have you ever heard Enjolras ever skipping class without being forced to by us?" Grantaire deadpanned.

Combeferre chuckled. "No. No I have not."

"So don't worry. It'll be okay." Grantaire promised.

Combeferre took a deep breath and nodded. Combeferre then climbed onto Grantaire's bed with a thick volume.

"I'm not allowed to read." Grantaire pouted.

"I never said you would read. You are going to listen. I got something that you can't possibly think through." Combeferre countered.

"What book?" Grantaire said warily.

"The Successful Match: 200 Rules to Succeed in the Residency Match." Combeferre read.

"That sounds terrible." Grantaire frowned.

"No, it's about interpersonal relationships and making sure you become the best doctor you can be." Combeferre dismissed, opening the cover.

Combeferre hadn't brought that book for him to listen to. He knew it would knock him out. He barely made it past the first ten rules.

"Come on. Time to get up and answer repetitive questions." Combeferre was lightly shaking him.

Grantaire groaned. He felt like his headache had gotten worse and he felt sick to his stomach.

"Too bad. Check time." Combeferre was grinning, he could tell.

"Fine." He said but he didn't move.

"All right. Can I see your eyes?" Combeferre teased.

"No." Grantaire mumbled.

"Please?" Combeferre coaxed.

"Do I have to? I'm comfy." Grantaire muttered.

"Yes." Combeferre answered.

Grantaire let out an over-dramatic groan and carefully pulled himself up. He nearly threw up but he managed to suppress it.

"Do you want me to get you a bucket?" Combeferre asked, and for once Grantaire wasn't embarrassed. This was why Combeferre would make a great doctor. He made people feel at ease when they were sick, not feeling like they were a burden.

"I think I'm good. And I don't think I own a bucket." Grantaire said as he leaned against the wall.

"All right. Give me your eyes." Combeferre shined his penlight into his face and didn't change his expression at his reaction. He followed Combeferre's finger with his eyes and answered the questions about the year, the date and himself.

"All right. You're not really getting better but you're not worse." Combeferre sighed.

"That's good. We didn't expect this to go away so soon." Grantaire shrugged then winced.

"Yeah you'll rebound between feeling shitty and great. I'm sorry." Combeferre said.

"I've had worse. And don't beat yourself up about this. I'm just glad Enjolras got out of the way." Grantaire rested against Combeferre and Combeferre let his arm drape across Grantaire's chest.

"Don't start that. I worry about you too, you know." Combeferre kissed the side of his face.

"I know. But you know as well as I do that we're always going to put her first." Grantaire replied.

"I know. She's starting to you put you first. You should've seen the way she fought against the crowd after you got hit. It was like watching a giant throw people out of her way." Combeferre chuckled.

"Are you okay with us?" Grantaire asked.

"Which us are you talking about?" Combeferre responded.

"Me and her. I know this has to be hard for you." Grantaire explained.

"It's getting easier. You should see how happy she is around you. Now I know it's cliché but she really is happy. She needed someone in her life like that. And as much as I love our friends, I'm glad it was you. Because you're better around her. And she's better around you. And while I'm better around her, she's not always better around me. And it needs to work both ways. It took some time to realize that. But while I'll always love her, as my friend, as my sister, I'm beginning to free my heart. Does that make sense or are you just asleep now?" Combeferre answered.

"I'm awake. It makes sense." Grantaire hummed.

"Maybe now is not the best time to do this. You're still exhausted." Combeferre stated.

"'M wide awake." He slurred.

"Yeah right. You're not tired, at all." Combeferre snorted. "Do you want me to read again?"

Grantaire shook his head. "'L just make me sleepy."

"Of course. How dare I?" Combeferre teased.

Grantaire chuckled at his tone.

"Come on now. Get some sleep. You need the rest." Combeferre commanded with a whisper.

Grantaire snuggled into the crook of Combeferre's arm and sleep descended quickly.

The rest of the day passed in the same fashion. Combeferre would wake him, they'd screw around for a little while and then Grantaire would fall back asleep. Or at least he would try to. It was the first day and he was already so bored. Sleeping got so boring after a while. But Enjolras didn't come back. Combeferre had ordered in pizza, paid, and they'd eaten it still before her return.

"Should we call her? I'm getting worried." Combeferre asked.

"What safer place could she be than in a police station?" Grantaire replied.

"I don't know. I'm just worried. Usually she calls." Combeferre said.

"She's probably getting interviewed again. Cops like to make sure that you know your story for defense attorneys. Rachel can always somehow afford the best of the slime." Grantaire shrugged.

"I guess." Combeferre sighed.

"She's perfectly safe. If anything, she may have just forgotten to call." Grantaire assured.

Combeferre nodded. "Yeah, that's probably it. She just forgot."

Grantaire knew that Combeferre hadn't convinced himself, or anyone around him.

Twenty-five minutes agonizing minutes later, Combeferre had taken to pacing when they heard the door open. Enjolras looked almost defeated but that wasn't possible.

"Are you all right?" Combeferre had gotten to her first.

"I'm just tired. My chest hurts." Enjolras murmured.

Combeferre wrapped his arms around her and half-carried half-walked her over to the couch where Grantaire snuggled her close.

"What happened?" Grantaire asked.

"Well, it went about as well as you could think. I waited forever to get called up, made a positive identification, and you were right about the lawyers. I nearly slapped one of them. Essentially called me an attention whore. Pissed me off. And the ID may be a bit rude on transcript but Javert promised it would work. Ranted to him for a little bit while he was working. I think I yelled a bit too much today. Then the police interviewed me again to make sure I had my details right and then they finally let me go." She pressed a hand to her chest and Combeferre returned from the kitchen with pills and water. She downed them immediately.

"Well, you survived and hopefully we will never have to do that again." Grantaire nuzzled his nose into her hair.

"I won't but you'll have to." She muttered.

"Say again?" He tried.

"Javert told me when you get better, you'll have to prep for testifying." She replied.

Well, fuck.

* * *

**Hello dears. Sorry for this taking so long, shit went down in my family. I don't know what's in store for my family so it might be a while for me to write anything for a little while. Leave a review please.**


	24. Chapter 24

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hey guys, sorry this has been so late. But I've moved over to AO3, and I'll finish this there, same title and author and shit. I'll try to update as quick as possible over there. I'd post the link if I could but doesn't really let me**


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Les Miserables, Drama, Hurt-Comfort