A/N: This was a request from AO3, for a fic about the first time Enjolras held his daughter, the first time he took her home, etc. Set between chapters 2 and 3 of Compatibility.

"Charlie!" Enjolras gasped, charging into the hospital waiting room and skidding to a halt by the desk. "Charlotte," he managed, taking in deep breaths. "Charlotte Monroe."

"Are you the father?"

"Yes." Still breathing heavily, he nodded, as if the receptionist hadn't understand the word.

"Name?"

"Enjolras Molloy."

"You're not down on file. I'm afraid you're not allowed in."

Enjolras's face darkened.

"Which room is she in?" he demanded. "This is my daughter we're talking about, and I am being there when she is born."

"I'm sorry, I can't disclose that information."

"Look, I am begging you her-"

"It's up to the mother who is present, and she wanted to be alone," the woman interrupted.

"We don't get along," Enjolras explained. "That's why she's done this, out of bitterness and spite. But she's not keeping the child - I am. And I need to be there. I need to be the first one to hold my daughter. Do you understand?"

"I never told you this," she said quietly, glancing round then leaning closer. "But I understand perfectly. She's in room seven. Down that corridor, second left, third door on the right."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, before turning and running again, stopping only when he reached the correct room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Charlie spat at him, glaring. The expression twisted when she let out a cry of pain, hands fluttering down by her stomach. Enjolras slowly entered the room, seating himself in the chair next to her and taking her hand gently, not even wincing when she squeezed it.

"You are not leaving me out of this," he told her, voice low and slightly cold. "She's my daughter too."

"I see you decided on company after all," a doctor said briskly, walking into the room and checking a machine. "How long between contractions?"

"I don't know!" she hissed, wincing when another contraction came.

"Just over two minutes," Enjolras told him, muttering something under his breath when she squeezed his hand again, crying out wordlessly.

"I fucking hate you!" she growled at Enjolras. "If you ever try and come anywhere near me again-"

"Well that won't be happening, because we're over," he interrupted. "You made that clear eight months ago." The doctor watched the exchange silently before clearing his throat.

"If you are just going to argue, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he told Enjolras, before turning back to checking things with Charlie. Her cries were almost constant, her grip on his hand like iron, but Enjolras didn't complain, simply kept his eyes on her's. It didn't matter how much he hated Charlie, he wasn't going to walk away when she needed him. He'd lived with the woman for nearly eight months and had come to care for her slightly. He didn't even notice what the doctor was doing until he heard a different cry. His head snapped round to face the doctor and he stood shakily, dropping Charlie's hand almost instantly.

"Is she okay?" he asked faintly.

"Your daughter is fine and healthy," the doctor informed them, not looking up from the crying baby.

"May I?" Enjolras held out his arms slightly.

The second his daughter was in his arms, Enjolras felt complete - a feeling which had been missing since he'd left for London.

"Alana," he whispered, running a finger down the side of her face. He smiled happily when she gripped his finger, tiny fingers barely going all the way round, and had to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. "She's beautiful."

"The mother is also perfectly healthy," the doctor said, cutting in on the moment. Enjolras nodded to show he'd heard but didn't look away from his daughter.

"May I see her?" Charlie asked finally, voice leaving no room for discussion. Enjolras angled his arms so she could see Alana, moving slightly closer. "She's got your eyes."

"No need to sound so disappointed."

The doctor looked between them again. "From your conversation earlier, it sounds like you two aren't together."

"We're not," they said together.

"Who is going to be looking after your daughter?"

"Alana is coming home with me," Enjolras said firmly.

"Then while I finish off, the nurse will go through what you need to know."

Enjolras reluctantly handed Alana back to the doctor and listened intently to everything the young nurse told him, eagerly accepting his daughter back when the doctor was finished.

"You'll be needing to feed her," the nurse said. "I'll go get a bottle and some milk. Tomorrow, when you're more awake, I'll show you how to sort everything before you go home. Is there anything else you need to know?"

"I don't think so."

"Then I'll leave you alone with your daughter for a few minutes," she smiled, leaving them with Charlie.

"Have you got somewhere to go?" he asked finally, glancing over.

"Someone I used to work with is after a new flatmate. She said I can move in whenever I want so long as it's this month."

"Good." An awkward silence fell and Enjolras concentrated on Alana again, focusing on her bright eyes and the way she clung to his finger as if it were a lifeline. "Can I stay with her overnight?" he asked the nurse when she came back in carrying the bottle and handed it over to him.

"Of course you can."

"Not in here, I need to sleep and I don't want no screaming baby waking me up," Charlie muttered. "I'm fucking exhausted thanks to her."

"And then you wonder why I hate you," he sighed, not looking away from Alana. "Is there somewhere the two of us can spend the night?"

"Of course." Charlie pulled a face at the nurse when she gave her a strange look. "This way please."

Alana felt right in his arms, Enjolras decided, as he carried her up the stairs to his flat. He had a feeling the baby carrier he'd bought a few weeks before wouldn't be used very often when he was in the flat, but he didn't care.

"Is this your new daughter, dear?" his neighbour asked, peeking her head out of her flat. Enjolras smiled over at her, having grown fond of the elderly lady in the past couple of weeks.

"Yes Mrs Dodd," he replied, moving closer so she could see Alana.

"She has your eyes."

"So I've been told."

"Well I'll let you get into your flat," she said after cooing over Alana for a few more minutes. "And remember, any time you need her looking after whilst you go off to work, you just tell me. I love children but mine are all grown up and moved away. It's such a shame that Charlotte wants nothing to do with her."

"I know, and thank you once again Mrs Dodd."

"I'll see you later then dear."

"I'll see you round Mrs Dodd."

Unlocking his flat, Enjolras hesitated in the doorway, looking down at Alana before stepping inside. "Welcome home," he whispered, dropping his bag down before kicking the door shut. Alana just blinked up at him before making another grab for his finger. Enjolras laughed and placed the tip of his forefinger again her palm as he sat on the sofa, smiling happily when she clung on again. "I love you," he murmured. "I always will, and I will always be here for you. That's a promise. Your mother..." He sighed. He knew Alana couldn't understand him yet, but he still felt the need to talk to her, to explain everything. "Your mother and I don't get along, and she doesn't feel she could afford to look after a child. She always thinks she's too young to be a mother. Yet another thing she hates me for I suppose. But I want you. I will always want you in my life, because you are my beautiful little girl. And I think this is the the closest I've ever got to cheesy film territory, so I'm just gonna shut up now."

Alana stared up at him for another few seconds before her eyes closed and mouth opened slightly, head turning to face his chest as she fell asleep. Enjolras kept silent, not wanting to wake her, but moved slightly, pulling his legs up and lying back on the sofa whilst watching her constantly, memorising every feature so he would never forget this moment.

He wasn't sure when it dawned on him completely, but he slowly came to the feeling that there was something missing. When he realised what it was, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and breathed in deeply, reminding himself that this was his own fault. Unconsciously he'd tightened his grip and he quickly forced himself to relax when he heard Alana wake and whimper slightly.

"Sorry Allie," he said softly, stroking her head until she settled again. "There's someone missing today," he started once she was silent again, eyes watching him constantly. "He's called Grantaire. He's a... a very special person. I love him. But we didn't always get along, and love can't hold everything together forever. So I left. It broke my heart, and was possibly the worst decision I ever made but I'd never change things. Because leaving gave me you. But..." He hesitated before continuing. "I used to think, when we were together, that one day I'd marry him. I never mentioned it to him or anyone else of course - it took me months to even admit I was serious about him, let alone tell him I loved him - but it was my private daydream. I always thought that after I'd married him, well that we'd have kids. I never really thought about it that much, but in this moment I was always with Grantaire. Only this moment's here, and he's not." Enjolras's voice shook slightly and he took in another deep breath to try and steady his feelings. "And it's my fault." Alana's hand reached out towards his face and he moved her slightly so she could reach, sighing when she touched the tears he hadn't been able to keep inside. "At least I have you. Life will be hard for a while, I can't pretend otherwise, but I've got you and right now, you are my life."

Enjolras could have continued talking to his daughter all night, and Alana would have happily listened to the sound of her father's voice, but the exhaustion from a night sat up watching his newborn baby was catching up and he felt himself dozing off. Forcing himself awake, he managed to keep his eyes open until Alana was asleep again, held firmly against his chest, then allowed his eyes to drift shut.

It was no surprise when his dreams featured a dark-haired artist holding a child, but next morning Enjolras couldn't recall just why exactly he felt so sad upon waking.