16/2/14
Here is a one-shot for my 900th and faithful reviewer Fay Lily … this started off happy, I swear this was meant to be happy! I definitely enjoyed writing it though. I may carry on in this universe when I have time, what does everyone think?
The ages of all the amis in this are:
Combeferre – 6
Enjolras – 5
Jehan – 4
Grantaire – 3
Bahorel – 5
Bossuet – 6
Joly – 5
Eponine – 16 (babysitter)
Courfeyrac - 5
Baby Barricade
"Enjolwas is gwounded again," Combeferre sighed as he stretched up on his tiptoes to press the phone back onto the hook.
"And the babysitter is demandin that Gwantaire stays with 'er while Enjolwas is kept in 'is room," Jehan added, settling down and sipping on his mug of warm milk. Enjolras had only just turned five and was still always getting into trouble with his mother and step-father. Grantaire was his three year old step brother and they were as different as night and day; Enjolras was the golden, perfect child of the richest woman in town and Grantaire was the black haired, tanned son of an abusive southern merchant/drunkard. Grantaire looked at Enjolras as if he was the best thing that ever happened to the world and he sincerely loved his big brother; yet Enjolras was coolly indifferent towards his whole family, including the slightly tubby toddler that seemed to follow him everywhere. Combeferre had heard his mother talking about how Grantaire's attachment to Enjolras must come from something called past trauma. The young Combeferre didn't know what that meant and neither did Jehan but both children decided to look after their leader's little brother, therefore bringing him into the group.
"So what we gunna dwo now?" Courfeyrac asked as he lay on his chest on the floor, swinging his legs backwards and forwards with a repetitive motion.
"I dunno, but Ferre's babysitta makin cookies," Bahorel chuckled and suddenly everyone was on their feet sprinting towards the door to the kitchen with a flurry of tiny footsteps and giggles.
It was quarter of an hour later when the phone rang and Combeferre jumped to pull it down and answer. "Combeferre ousehold," Combeferre said like his mother had always told him to do if he answered the phone.
"It is R," the tiny voice on the other end replied nervously. "Enjolwas locked imselwf in da sittin woom," he explained with the signature broken English of a toddler.
"Does he need our help R?" Combeferre encouraged their smallest member.
"Yep, Ellsie da babysitter can't get im out and she not lookin well," R chuckled and all the boys could hear thumping and shouting in the background.
"Okay R we're coming," Combeferre smiled slightly, hanging up on the toddler. "Come on guys, we're going to Enjolwas'," Combeferre smiled before turning his puppy eyes on his favourite babysitter, Eponine.
XXX
It was about quarter of an hour later when Eponine pulled up to the doors of the Enjolras household and ushered the gaggle of young children out of the people carrier. Combeferre had easily convinced her that they should go help Ellie with her troublesome charges. When they pushed open the unlocked door the house was in chaos. Enjolras had penned himself into his bedroom with a stack of furniture and was proceeding to throw various items of stationary, with surprising accuracy at the frazzled babysitter. Both babysitter and five year old were screaming and bawling at each other but what struck Eponine was the three year old toddler curled in the corner sobbing clutching a tattered stuffed lion. All the shouting and banging and throwing terrified the young Grantaire; it reminded him of the times his father would come home and violence would follow in his wake. "Hey, hey," Eponine soothed cradling the toddler in her arms. Within seconds everything fell silent as Enjolras saw his baby brother crying. They weren't close, but Enjolras did care for the child that had whisked into his life with a man he hated.
XXX
Two hours later, Enjolras' mother returned home. The babysitter had texted to say all Enjolras' friends were home but we she pushed open the door the house was too quiet. She strode through the house and found her two sons sat on the floor in the living room. The babysitter was curled up calmly reading on the settee and her charges were settled in the centre of the floor. Grantaire was curled us, asleep, with his brown hair resting on Enjolras' crossed legs. Her eldest son sat idly curling his fingers through the brown locks and was intently watching an episode of Thomas the Tank Engine. Mrs Enjolras nodded to the babysitter that she could leave and the tall blonde woman settled next to her two perfect boys. Enjolras looked up with a small smile at his mother. She smiled back and ruffled his hair silently, not wanting to wake the sleeping toddler. The new family settled down to watch the old children's show, forming a perfect and content picture in the light of the screen.