(Thank you all for the kind reviews. They mean so much to me. I know there were some grammatical mistakes in the previous chapter. I apologize for that. I was in kind of a rush when I wrote that chapter, but I hope this one will be better written. Enjoy!)

Enjolras woke up very early the next morning. It was still dark outside and the city was asleep. He lay on his back, eyes open, looking at the ceiling. Thoughts running back to that dreadful moment in the alley and the unfortunate event at the café it resulted into.

He felt utterly ashamed. There was no excuse for the way he had overreacted. Not according to Enjolras himself. Nothing happened, he kept telling himself. Nothing happened that evening so why did I have to go and embarrass myself like that?

And the looks. The looks his amis had thrown his way. Shock, confusion, anger, pity? He kept seeing Grantaire's depressed expression whenever he closed his eyes. Enjolras closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. His hands turned into fists to his side. They were going to want to know what was going on. They were expecting an explanation for his sudden outburst yesterday. They cannot know.

"You have to get this under control Enjolras", he whispered to himself. "It's the only thing you can do. Get it under control, don't think about it, and forget it ever happened." It never happened.

But that was easier said than done. Combeferre had already followed him home, knowing something was up. Had been knocking and calling for him for at least two hours straight. Enjolras hadn't answered him once; had completely ignored his oldest friend until he had given up and left.

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't hide in his room forever. His friends would definitely know something was up then and he wouldn't be able to have them believe some easy found, simple explanation. No, he had to go out and face them, even though at this point it was one of the hardest things he thought possible. Should he just pretend nothing was wrong? Act like everything was okay? Tell them that yesterday he was just really piqued and he really could not handle all the cheerfulness of the night? If he openly apologized to Grantaire, something he had to do anyway, they might believe him sooner.

Yes, he would just have to face them. Wave what happened the night before in the café away as if it was nothing special. Apologize for it and move on as if all was well. He just had to stop thinking about that alleyway, because really nothing happened. Get it under control, keep it under control and forget about it. He kept playing that same mantra in his head over and over again.

He was supposed to give a speech today together with Courfeyrac. Some of the other Amis would be there as well, handing out folders, looking out for new recruits. He had to face his friends before that however. He had to convince them first and then he could go on like he always had.

He took another deep breath, tried to steady his fast beating heart and willed himself to get some more sleep. It didn't take long for the darkness to take over again.

He was running. Running away from them. He had only just escaped, but they weren't going to let him go so easily. It was dark, so dark, he couldn't see anything. He only knew he had to keep running, never stop, they'll catch you. It didn't work however, for suddenly his feet wouldn't move anymore. He was glued to his spot and no matter how hard he tried, he was not able to go on.

No, no, no, he thought. He looked around and saw Antoine and Louis, closing in on him. He started panicking. He had to get out of there, he had to! Come on, come on, keep running!

Then he felt them. Felt their hands, smelt their breaths, heard them purr and moan. He couldn't get out of their grip, he coulnd't move at all and he knew they would be able to do whatever they wanted to do with him. They undressed him, kissed him, caressed him, tasted him, pressed against him.

He was close to crying now, begging them, begging them to stop, but they wouldn't listen. The tears had come, streaming down his face when Antoine turned him around and shoved him harshly against the wall. It would happen now, this would mean the end of him as he was.

At the first thrust Enjolras' eyes shot open. He was panting, drenched in sweat, heart beating painfully in his chest. He sat up, pulling the soaked covers away from him. It was a dream. Only a dream. He could have cried tears of relieve right then and there.

His eyes shifted to the clock on the wall. Only 7 o'clock in the morning. He had slept two hours since he last woke up. There was no way he was going to sleep now any more. He felt himself shake all over his body, the adrenaline of the nightmare slowly ebbing away, leaving him a broken mess.

They're still out there. The thought hit him like a brick wall. He hadn't thought about that at all. They were still out there, they knew how he looked, who he was, they had the pamphlets! Enjolras started to panick all over again. He let his head fall in his hands and tried to remain calm. Stop it Enjolras, you have to stop this. Get it under control, get a grip. Nothing happened.

He stood and walked towards the door, checking twice if it was really locked and then moved towards the wardrobe to find clothes for the day. Although knowing it was going to be a warm day, he pulled on several layers of shirts, a vest and his jacket. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but feel disgusted. He pulled a hand through his hair and turned away.

It was still too early to go out. He wouldn't meet his friends for at least another four hours and the speech he was going to give wasn't due till that afternoon. He needed a distraction till that time. Something that would allow him to think about anything else. Something that would help him forget about the events in the alleyway and the nightmare he had just woken up from.

He walked over to his desk, sat down, and tried to focus on his studies. He was already ahead of schedule, but there were always things to be done. Starting on an essay, he allowed his mind to be overtaken by arguments, images and ideals of his desired future for France. It didn't help him forget completely, but it offered a distraction and it was something Enjolras welcomed most at the moment.

A couple streets beyond, Combeferre was lying in his bed, eyes open, thoughts travelling to the night before. He had hardly slept. He was really shocked by his friends' behavior. Enjolras always had his emotions under control. He hardly ever opened up to anyone; didn't like to let people in too deep. Of course, he had seen his friend angry before. He had seen him upset, frustrated and even sad sometimes. But never in the quantity of yesterday evening. Never like that. Never in a state of complete panic. Not ever had he seen his friend flinching at a touch, jumping at a compliment, panicking after a genuine, friendly hug.

He couldn't quite lay his finger on it, but something was very wrong and he had to find out what. No doubt Enjolras would have a story ready today, but it better be a very convincing one for him to buy it.

He turned to the clock, realizing he had been lying and thinking like this for nearly two hours. It was nearly 9 o'clock now. Enjolras would probably be awake already. He never slept late.

Would it be wise to drop by right now? Enjolras ignored him yesterday. Left him standing outside his door for nearly two hours. He knew they had a meeting scheduled at eleven, a few hours before they were heading out demonstrating in public. Enjolras didn't like to be disturbed before a meeting. He was always preparing, always working on the last details.

But still. Something told him Enjolras needed his friend, whether he would admit it or not; liked it or not. He got out of his bed, dressed slowly and decided to make his way to his friends' apartment. He would just try to get Enjolras out for a coffee or breakfast before making their way to the meeting together. Maybe, if he played it right, Enjolras would open up to him. Tell him what was on his mind. What made him act the way he acted towards Grantaire.

Yes, he would go. And he grabbed his jacket of the wall and made his way outside.

TBC.

(Well, that wasn't an easy chapter! Hope you liked it though. Let me know if you do, or if you don't. Reviews make my day and help me update faster! I really appreciate them. See you next time!)