A/N: Thanks for the reviews and responses, everyone! Credit again for much of the prompt/set up goes to Enjolrastic.

Rating for swearing, mentions of police brutality, detention, and assassination attempts, and recovery room issues.

Chapter 2: Emergence

'Enjolras, are you sure you don't want a vest? Those death threats sounded pretty serious this time.'

'I won't need it. Give that vest to Bahorel if he wants it; he's out nearest the police barricade."

"You'll be up there on the stage"

"I'll be fine, Feuilly. The last thing we need is to show them we're the slightest bit afraid.'

These words still cut clearly through the haze in Enjolras' mind even as he slowly became aware that there was some feeling in his body after all. 'Those bastards really went too far this time,' he thought as he slowly opened his eyes and winced against the light that pierced his line of sight.

"Auguste Enjolras, can you hear me? You've been shot and you're now in the hospital," a familiar voice said from his left side. "You survived an operation and you're now in the recovery room."

"Doctor Louison?" Enjolras managed to croak out. He had not seen the lady in some time, not since his best friend Combeferre was starting out his training in the trauma surgery department. Even after all these years she was still the same squat, stern but maternal figure who figured a great deal in his friend's stories. 'If she's the attending, that means I'm at the Saint-Michel Hospital,' he realized. Fortunately this place was only five minutes away from where the rally had been.

"Good thing you still remember me, young man," the anaesthesiologist said. "How are you feeling?"

Enjolras grimaced as he became aware of the ache welling up in his midsection, which was swathed in gauze. He also saw that his arms and legs were also bandaged, but a little less tightly. "I've been better. What happened to the others?"

Louison gave him a pointed look. "For now, consider yourself lucky to be alive," she said before getting a penlight and a thermometer in order to begin running some tests. "You were incredibly difficult to put under before surgery, not to mention you needed a transfusion in the process. You were this close to coding and you might have if it hadn't been Doctor Thenardier doing the surgery. "

Enjolras rolled his eyes before answering Louison's next questions about whether he was feeling any discomfort or worse, a loss of sensation. All the while he was trying to recall what had happened during the demonstration. Everything was a blur of shots, running footsteps, people shrieking for help, and eventually the crash of police batons meeting sticks and stones amid clouds of tear gas. 'The gunman was unmasked. He was shooting to kill and he was almost sure he had me there,' he noted. The assailant was most likely still on the loose, which was not something he could take lightly.

As he looked around he also realized that Louison had placed him in a screened off cubicle. Yet even so he could hear whispers of nurses and doctors as well as the groans of patients elsewhere in the recovery room. "Am I in isolation or something?"

"This is just an additional precaution for your security," Louison replied dismissively. She heard a rapping on the curtain frame and she cautiously pulled the curtain aside by an inch before breathing a sigh of relief. "Good to see you here Combeferre."

Combeferre was pale and haggard when he stepped into the cubicle, but a relieved smile lit up his face when he made eye contact with his friend. "That was too close even for a close call, Enjolras. You've had everyone worried sick," he said.

"Shouldn't have been. Someone sold everyone out," Enjolras replied. He tried to take a deep breath and nearly groaned at the pain in his side. "Where are Courfeyrac and Bahorel? They were in the ambulance with me and the others?"

"Courfeyrac is in the waiting room, Bahorel went out to your...headquarters but he said he'd be back," Combeferre said.

"Feuilly?"

"According to the rest he's fine."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at his friend's suddenly cautious tone. "There's something you aren't telling me, Daniel."

Combeferre sighed deeply; whenever they used given names around each other it was a sign that something serious was afoot. "He's over at the army camp trying to get the others out. A hundred protestors were rounded up by the military," he said in a whisper.

"How many dead?"

"Fifty. Maybe more."

"How many wounded?"

"No one knows the final count yet. There are people still being brought in for treatment, since the riots haven't stopped."

Enjolras was silent at this new knowledge. This was far too much even for the notably brutal authorities of the capital. Something would have to be done right away. "When can I go?"

Louison clucked her tongue as she looked up from writing something in his hospital chart while Combeferre shook his head. "That's not my call to make. You'd better ask the surgeon for clearance," Combeferre said.

"When can I speak to him?"

"Her. She's still in the middle of an operation."

Enjolras swore under his breath before glancing at the various monitors he was hooked up to. Every hour, or even every minute's delay was a further opportunity for the government to exercise its impunity. "At least I should get a message out to the Congress-"

"Which has just been disbanded thanks to what happened this afternoon," Combeferre said. He looked about before speaking again. "It's a firestorm, Enjolras. I don't know what happened this afternoon, and I don't know exactly what you did, but it's gotten the Ministry For Public Order in an uproar."

"It was only supposed to be a demonstration," Enjolras seethed. It was supposed to be a usual event for the radical faction, one for everyone to join whether they were at the bottom of the grassroots or already working in the halls of power. There was always the potential for danger: scuffles, temporary detention at the precinct, and of course the media howling about the dangers of the ruffians trying to overthrow the government. The young man rubbed his temples as he saw again the blackness of a gun barrel pointed in his direction. It now shifted the battleground entirely into terra incognita.

At that moment he heard the rustling of the curtain being pulled back and he turned to see who the newcomer was. This abrupt action sent another bolt of pain through his abdomen, forcing him to grit his teeth again. Through his agonized haze he was vaguely aware of Combeferre conferring with a young woman dressed in red scrubs. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy bun, and a wayward strand fell into her face as she reached for his chart. "Miss, I think that is for the attending physician—" he blurted out.

The woman's brow furrowed as she signed something on the chart. "Is this how you greet everyone who stitches you up?"

Combeferre chuckled as he looked first at the woman and then at his friend. "I do not believe you've been properly introduced. Eponine, meet my friend and favourite congressman Auguste Enjolras. Enjolras, meet my colleague Eponine Thenardier. She saved your life."

Enjolras managed to nod especially now Louison had put some additional painkillers in his IV line. "Thank you Dr. Thenardier. I need to speak with you about when I could leave the hospital."

She snorted as she met his questioning gaze. "It's only been an hour since you got out of the operating room, Mr. Enjolras. You aren't in a wholly stable condition yet."

"When is the earliest time then?"

"If no complications arise, then within a week."

Enjolras crossed his arms, making sure not to disturb the bandages on his elbows. "Isn't there any way it can be earlier?"

"If you cooperate, then maybe. Right now it's too early to tell," Eponine replied.

Enjolras rolled his eyes impatiently. "What do you mean by too early to tell?"

Eponine picked up the chart and held it up. "See these numbers here? Until they straighten themselves out, you're not going anywhere. The last thing anyone needs is you bleeding out on the hospital steps or something worse."

"Dr. Thenardier, with all due respect, this is an emergency," Enjolras said sternly as he tried to sit up. "I have friends out there who are illegally detained and I refuse to sit here and do nothing about it."

Combeferre sighed deeply. "Enjolras, please cooperate. That's the best help you can be at this time."

"I don't think anyone here understands the immediacy of this situation," Enjolras retorted.

"Immediacy? You came in here with three bullets lodged into you, and one almost blew your spleen apart and another was only half an inch away from puncturing your lungs. That is immediacy," Eponine snapped as she put her hands akimbo. "In short, you almost died."

Enjolras glared at her. "More people will die if no one does anything."

"Everyone here knows that. The emergency room has been packed for the past six hours," the surgeon said. "Don't think we aren't worried about what is going on."

The politician nodded, even as he considered for a moment asking to be signed out against medical advice. He quickly dismissed the thought, knowing it would not be the smartest idea when both Combeferre and Louison were present. "There must be something that can still be done."

"You may have visitors. Not here, but once you're brought to your room. Your friend Courfeyrac was able to arrange it," Eponine said curtly. She glanced at the monitors before going closer to inspect the bandages. "Everything seems to be holding. You're not feeling faint or in pain, are you?" she asked.

"What's one supposed to feel after surgery?" he answered caustically.

Eponine gave him a look of disgust. "I think all is well with him, Louison," she said.

"Indeed. Don't be so antagonistic. That goes for both of you," Louison chided before poking her head out of the cubicle and yelling for an orderly to bring over a gurney.

Combeferre touched Eponine's shoulder. "Are you making rounds later?"

The woman bit her lip. "I'll see. That depends how many cases get sent up to me. Good luck with your next ones," she said before stalking out of the cubicle.

Combeferre sighed deeply as he looked at Enjolras. "Was that necessary?"

"All I need is for her to sign me out," Enjolras said. "How difficult is that to do?"

"You have no idea. And you really shouldn't get too cocky with someone who can use a scalpel as well as she does. I'd start composing my apology if I were you," Combeferre warned. "I'll see you later and get Courfeyrac and the rest to come up too."

Enjolras nodded gratefully. "By the way Combeferre, what does the spleen do?"

Combeferre chuckled amusedly. "Do you really want to know now?"

"Could you give me a short, layman's explanation?" Enjolras asked.

"Let me put it this way: without it, you'll be on antibiotics for a very long time, maybe for life," Combeferre said. "You might want to remember that the next time you go to these things without a bulletproof vest or get mad at someone for saying, 'I told you so'."