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The next day…

"The new guy's really weird…" Marius stated, taking a sip of his slightly off juice that sat on the table top.

Combeferre was only half listening to what Marius was talking about; the other half of himself was wondering about how much longer he'd be in this place. He'd run all the tests. He'd answered all of their questions. He was an innocent man…so why was he here? "Weird how?"

"Like, he positioned his bed so that the foot is facing south and the boarder is facing north so that when he's sleeping the circulation of his blood won't be impeded by the great magnetic current between the two poles of the globe." Marius snorted. "Like...that's kind of weird."

"You're kind of weird but do I talk about it?" Combeferre said, biting his nail, trying to pass time.

"I'm just saying it's kind of strange for someone to be so superstitious about something that's even not real." Marius said, pouting.

"…Why do you think Cosette always wears that ring Marius? Do you even know?" Combeferre asked.

"Of course I know. It's to protect her from the ones who tried to take her away…"

"In all honesty Marius, do you really think that ring is protecting her in any way?" Combeferre said. Marius shook his head. "Exactly. See, superstition is like a blanket of hope. It's something that you can believe in to make yourself feel safer."

"Do you have any superstitions?" Marius asked.

"One or two." Combeferre admitted. "But it's ok to have superstitions, as long as they remain JUST superstitions." Marius nodded.

"I don't have attachment issues." Enjolras mumbled. "Sure, I like the jacket and all that, but I'm not THAT attached to it."

"Well, the doctors think otherwise." Courfeyrac shrugged. "They're keeping it away from you until you get out."

Enjolras was staring into space. No one could really tell what he was thinking. "But that could be months…or years…or decades…I could die in here…" Enjolras started wondering. What if he did die in here? What if he never saw outside the walls of the asylum? What if this was it? What if everyone else was gone and they left him behind and he had nothing in this world for company except the rats and dust and ghosts and- "I want my jacket back."

"There's the attachment. I told you he wouldn't take it lightly." Courfeyrac muttered to Cosette. She shrugged.

"It's just a jacket Enjolras." Grantaire said, only just loud enough to hear.

"It's not just a jacket!" Enjolras said sharply, making Grantaire jump and have a slight moment of panic. Loud noises weren't something he appreciated. He heard them a lot, but they made him uncomfortable…but it made him even more uncomfortable when it was Enjolras that was being loud. "That disgusting filth-covered piece of red cloth was the only thing I had from my life out there. Now I have nothing. They had no right to take that away from me! I'm not their prisoner!"

"…Yes…you are…" Grantaire whispered under his breath.

"What?"

Grantaire dug his nails into his palms. "I said, yes you are." He repeated, slightly louder than his usual tone. "You'll always be their prisoner Enjolras. Let's just face it. Once you step into this asylum, you belong to them. They can drug you, hit you, even poison you if you got annoying. Once you enter this hell, you are no longer a free man. Once you open your eyes, you'll see what this world really stands for. So no, you're not getting your jacket back. Odds are, you'll never get it back, because you're insane, just like me. Just like Cosette. Just like Courfeyrac. Just like everyone in this place. You can't change that."

"You can't tell me what I am, Grantaire. That's for me to decide." Enjolras said, feeling slightly torn between reality and what he wanted to be reality. Enjolras walked passed Grantaire and down the hall to the bathroom where he'd stare at his reflection for an hour or two.

Grantaire wondered if he had hurt him in any way…and if he had, he hadn't meant to. If anything he was trying to help him. Trying to help him get a grip on reality…

Combeferre POV

I stood in one of the hallways. One of the rooms with one of those dance studio mirrors plastered onto the wall…

People ask me what goes through my mind…I say my family…friends…my old life…

It was…in June…the thirteenth to be exact…that's why I hate the numbers 6 and 13. 6, because June is the sixth month and 13 because it was the 13th day of the 6th month. 6…13…bad numbers aren't they…

I remember their screams…the blood that was spilt…the pain that rang through my ears…they were good people…they didn't deserve the fate that fell upon them…why them?

My mother…she had a smile that could light up the ballroom at night. My father…he was a jolly chap. He knew the answer to everything. My brothers and sisters…too young to understand…too innocent to understand. The more I think about that night…the more it haunts me…6…13…

No one except for Enjolras and I really know what happened that night…I have tried telling the doctors the truth…but they don't believe me…do you know why I became best friends with Enjolras?

Because he believed my story…he talked me though it…he helped me back onto my feet…no one else knows though…why should I tell you? You're not my friend…I don't even know who you are…who are you?

My thoughts where interrupted when I heard the hall door open and close about five seconds later. I turned around to see little Miss Thenardier…she's rather beautiful…but not in a looks way…I mean…her hair's a mess and her face is always dirty…but her smile is beautiful. Her laugh is like a song I've only heard in my dreams…she reminds me of a young miss I used to know…

"Hi." She said with a smile. "Don't ask me why I'm stalking you. I'm just really bored."

I chuckled. "Yeah…it's easy to get bored in a place like this."

"What are you doing here?"

I turned around towards the wall mirror. "Thinking about stuff..." Eponine nodded. She then noticed a music player that sat on the floor by the edge of the mirror. She walked over to it and bent down to take a closer look. That music player had been there for what…three…four years? It'd basically never been touched. Eponine started pressing random buttons on the player, trying to get some form of entertainment out of it…

Just as I started to doubt it, the music player let out a strangled scratchy noise and then started playing a jazzy kind of dance song from what…2000? Eponine smiled. "I'm an genius!" I laughed. "I know this song. My dad used to play it on those rainy days when we were kids…"

"You miss home?" I asked.

"Yeah…and you?" I couldn't find the words to answer the question. Eponine noticed my discomfort and to my relief said, "Forget it, I said nothing…sorry." Eponine turned her attention back to the music. She then smiled and looked up at me. "Dance with me."

I snorted. "I…don't dance."

"Come on, it'll be fun, and since when do you get to do anything fun around here?" Eponine pulled my hand and lead me towards the center of the room. I laughed again. She took both my hands and interlocked our fingers. She makes me feel a sense of happiness that I've never really felt before…

We started dancing slowly in time with the music…it was nice. It felt calming. "You're the first person who's ever attempted to get that dusty old thing to work."

Eponine grinned. "Well, good for me." Eponine was silent for a moment. She then said, "I can't read you Combeferre."

I twitched my eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm usually really good at reading people. For example, I know that Courfeyrac can be rude, but he's soft and gentle at heart. And Enjolras, he plays this strong fighter kind of act…but I can see that underneath all that anger, he's scared…he's scared of being trapped. Now, when I try to read you…I don't know…I can't tell if this man that I'm dancing with is the real Combeferre. Is it?"

I shrugged. "Maybe…maybe not…perhaps it's just the nice side of me."

"I find it hard to believe that there's a bad side of you."