(Hi guys! Thank you for the support on the first chapter. Here's the next one. Hope you'll like it!)
Enjolras sobbed quietly as he cradled his injured wrist close to his chest and tried to curl in on himself. Thick tears slowly trickled down his cheeks to form a small puddle on the floor and Enjolras muttered the same word over and over again between his quiet gasps for air. "Ow, ow, ow." The young boy felt lightheaded and the pain only got worse the longer he lay there. He didn't notice the group of children that had formed around him and he didn't hear them whisper worried words about him. The two boys who had nearly run into him stood next to him, holding their arms insecurely, not knowing what to do.
"Out of the way, come on, let me through."
Enjolras knew it was their teacher, Valjean, approaching but he didn't know how he felt about that yet. He never really determined if he liked the man or not. He hated gym and he hardly ever participated which the teacher found frustrating. But the man was usually kind to him and tried to stimulate him into joining the games whenever he could. Enjolras wondered if he was going to tell him to suck it up and force him to continue playing. A voice deep inside his head said that of course he wouldn't, but that voice couldn't quite convince Enjolras yet. He blinked one eye open and saw how the man made his way through the group of children to get closer to him. His bottom lip quivered harder when his teacher crouched down next to him and offered him a kind smile.
Valjean carefully pulled Enjolras up in a sitting position and reached out to take hold of the boy's injured wrist. When Enjolras flinched away from him and kept his arm at safe distance from his grasp, the man placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said: "It's okay, Julien, I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to see it for a second. I'll be careful, I promise."
Enjolras swallowed past the growing lump in his throat and turned big eyes to his teacher as if to determine if the man was telling the truth. Then he slowly, cautiously, laid his arm in his Valjeans outstretched hand and winced when the man traced his fingers over the red skin of his wrist. A new round of tears fell from his eyes and Enjolras wished Combeferre was there to make it all better. He did his best not to be bothered by the snickering comment of a girl to his right that this was the most he had moved during gym class all year, but he felt himself turn an embarrassing shade of red. Enjolras was suddenly grateful for his curly hair that always fell in front of his eyes, because he really didn't want anyone to see the shame in his eyes.
Valjean gave the girl an angry look, but didn't say anything to her. Instead he focused his attention on the boy in front of him. He carefully turned the wrist in his hand and prodded the skin in a few places, apologizing whenever Enjolras gasped or whimpered in response. He had hoped that they were just dealing with a severe sprain, but the quick swelling and the fiery pain that Enjolras was complaining about made him almost sure that the bone was broken. He felt sorry for the child. Though Enjolras never really participated much in his class, he had heard lovely stories about him from other teachers and there was just something about him that caused Valjean to care about the boy in a different way than he did for the other children.
"Alright, I'm all done," he said softly as stood back up, pulling Enjolras to his feet as well. "I'll take you to the school nurse and then I think a little trip to the hospital is in order."
Enjolars' eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. "No… N-No sir, it's okay, I don't need a hospital… I don't want to go."
Valjean smiled at him and laid both his hands on the boy's shoulders, squeezing softly in the hope to reassure the frightened boy. Then he gently pushed him towards the dressing rooms. Before they went inside, Valjean turned around to the other children and told them to play along quietly until he got back. "There is nothing scary about a hospital, Julien," he said kindly when the two of them entered the dressing room to collect Enjolras' bag and clothes, "It's just a place where they help people get better and where they will take the pain away. You'll probably get a cast just like your friend."
For a moment, Enjolras felt excited with that idea, but the pain and his fear for the hospital – which he had had ever since he was a little child – soon overruled his excitement. Besides, it wasn't as if he was just as cool with a cast as Courfeyrac was. Everyone wanted to draw on Courf's cast. Enjolras doubted if people would even notice his if he got one. What if no one wanted to sign it? What if they would just think Enjolras was a weakling? What if Courf would think Enjolras was trying to copy him? No, he didn't feel excited about it at all.
He was silent all the way towards the school nurse's station and so far lost in his own mind that he didn't really register anything Valjean was saying to him, though he did know they were mostly reassurances and encouragements. When they arrived there, Valjean knocked on the door before bending down again until he was on Enjolras' eyelevel.
"Don't worry, Julien, everything is going to be okay. The nurse is going to call your parents and then they'll come to pick you up and take you to see a doctor. If you want, I can tell Courfeyrac for you? I know the two of you always go home together so I assume he must be notified anyway."
Enjolras looked up confusedly when Valjean mentioned his parents. Why were they going to call them? He didn't want them to know what happened. What if they were going to be mad again? He wanted to tell his teacher that, but Valjean was already telling the nurse what had happened and before Enjolras knew it, he said his goodbye's and made his way back to the gym. Enjolras looked after him, still trying to figure out what was going to happen now, when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He looked around and felt his eyes fill with tears again.
"Come my child," the school nurse said kindly, leading him inside the room. "You can lie down on the bed. Or sit, whatever is more comfortable for you. I'll give you some ice for your wrist and then I'll call your parents, does that sound okay?"
Enjolras wanted to say 'no', but for some reason he was already nodding his head. He was confused. Maybe it was because of the pain, Enjolras wondered. He sat down on the bed and held the ice package against his injured wrist, sighing when the cold allowed him some form of pain relief. He looked around the room, taking in the awful bright paintings and childish figures decorating the walls. He couldn't imagine that anyone would be comforted by them. If anything, all those colors would make one nervous instead of calm.
"Sweetie, neither of your parents is picking up their phone. Do you know of another way that I can reach them? Or is there someone else I can call for you?"
Enjolras looked up at the nurse and frowned. That could be right. His parents both worked late on Mondays and they probably wouldn't be back home until after diner. They hardly ever picked up their phone when they were at work, Enjolras knew, he had tried often enough. On Mondays he usually stayed with Combeferre and his parents for diner before going home. Enjolras glanced at the clock. It was nearly three in the afternoon, which meant that Combeferre was probably already done with his classes and now studying in the library until it was time to pick him and Courfeyrac up.
"C-Could you call Combeferre?" Enjolras asked quietly, "He's my friend… He always picks me up on Mondays after school."
The nurse nodded kindly – not knowing that Combeferre was in fact only a teenager himself – and asked Enjolras for his number which the boy knew out of the top of his head. He briefly watched the nurse make the phone call before turning his attention to his aching hand. The sight of it frightened him and he quickly covered it with the ice package again, not wanting to look at it any longer.
"He is on his way," the nurse said as she hung up the phone. She moved towards the fridge in the corner of the room and took out a small package of juice which she gave to Enjolras. Then she opened a closet and pulled out a cloth which she quickly turned into a make-shift sling. She carefully laid it around Enjolras' neck and helped him to get his arm in there as comfortably as possible. "There," she muttered softly, "does that feel better?"
It did and Enjolras nodded timidly. He whispered a quiet thank you and sank back against the pillows of the bed, closing his eyes. He was still a little dizzy and the severe pain in combination with the far too sugary juice drink had left him feeling nauseous.
When the door of the room opened after little more than fifteen minutes, Enjolras opened his eyes again to see who had entered. As soon as his eyes caught sight of Combeferre, Enjolras' face crumpled and he started crying again. Harder than he had before when it all happened. He didn't know why, but seeing Combeferre suddenly made his wrist hurt more than ever and yet he was so relieved, because Combeferre was here and Combeferre always made everything better.
Combeferre immediately closed the distance between himself and the small figure on the bed and allowed Enjolras to hide his face in the crook of his neck, holding him close. He muttered soft, encouraging words to the small blonde boy in his arms and gently carded his hand through the curly locks. Neither of the two paid attention to the nurse who was standing there watching them with a surprised and slightly annoyed look on her face.
"Excuse me," she said coolly, interrupting the stream of comforting words Combeferre was whispering in Enjolras' ear while the blonde boy continued sobbing on his shoulder. "Excuse me, but you are still a child yourself. You can't take him."
Combeferre looked up at her and scowled. "I'm nearly fifteen. I'm not a child," he said, not all too friendly as he carefully helped Enjolras up on his feet. "And I very well can take him, he needs a hospital, you said so yourself."
The nurse huffed. "Yes, well, be that as it may, he can only leave here with an adult." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and came to stand in front of the door, effectively blocking their way out.
Combeferre sighed and shook his head. He knew that of course. He wasn't stupid. That's why he had called his father as soon as he was done speaking to the nurse on his phone. "I know he needs an adult. I called my father and he is waiting in his car just outside the school building. I only came in here to get Julien. My father will drive us to the hospital. If you don't believe me then you can walk with me and see for yourself."
Enjolras watched the conversation between the nurse and his friend with wide eyes and slight amusement. Combeferre was always so calm and polite and Enjolras couldn't help but find it a little funny whenever he got worked up. Especially when that was because of his concern for Enjolras; he secretly liked how much Combeferre cared about him.
In the end, the nurse decided not to outside with Enjolras and Combeferre but settled for a short phone call with Combeferre's father. She then let the two of them go with a note from Valjean explaining exactly what happened.
"What about Courf…," Enjolras whispered quietly as the two of them made their way towards the car. "He is going to wait here but no one is coming to get him…"
Combeferre smiled softly and draped his arm around Enjolras' shoulders. "Don't you worry about that Julien, I took care of that already. His mother will pick him up and she'll let us know when he's home so that we can call him to explain what happened, alright? You just focus on yourself and don't worry about anything else."
Enjolras nodded and leaned in closer to Combeferre. "It hurts a lot, 'Ferre…," he admitted softly, fighting against the tears as he felt another blush spread across his cheeks.
"I know it does, my friend. But we're going to get you fixed right up, just wait and see," Combeferre said reassuringly as he waited for Enjolras to get into the car before sliding in next to him. He smiled and nodded at his father to let him know they were ready to go and allowed Enjolras to lean against his chest. He carefully wounded his arms around the young boy and let his chin rest atop the messy blonde curls. "Only a little while longer and then you'll be fine, I promise."
TBC.
(I know I said a two-shot, but it's going to be a three-shot. I hope you don't mind! Please let me know what you think and review? I always appreciate to hear what you think)
