17/10/13

Sorry I didn't publish at the weekend. Crazy life as my mum has just had an operation and both my betas are busy!

Chapter 4

Grantaire continued teaching the class his little tricks of the trade and for once actually found himself enjoying it. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone who asked; he had a reputation to uphold. But by the end of the lesson, he was dying to teach again and was even tutoring one of the pupils outside of class. He left his sketchbook and canvas in a locked cupboard, in Miss Nord's safe hands. Enjolras was waiting outside and was certainly not expecting to see Grantaire walk out of the room with a spring in his step. "Come on Pollo, we have English!" Grantaire chirped walking straight past him. Enjolras gawped slightly before darting after him in a hurry.

"What's happened to you?" Enjolras asked, finally catching up again.

"What do you mean?" Grantaire asked with one eyebrow raised at the taller man.

"You're all, all happy," Enjolras almost stuttered, waving his hands at Grantaire in confusion. The confusion grew even more when Grantaire actually laughed in response. Enjolras had never heard Grantaire laugh before; and he liked it. He had a musical laugh that resonated with a ring to it and made Enjolras want to laugh along with him. Of course he didn't; he had a reputation to uphold.

By the time the pair reached their English class, Enjolras noticed Grantaire sinking back into his nonchalant and rebellious attitude. Enjolras felt his heart sink against his will; Grantaire seemed to be a pleasure to be around when he was happy but he hated this cynical side of the artist. Mood swings would be a serious understatement when describing him. Grantaire took a seat at the back of the classroom and Enjolras sat on the front row, as usual. The teacher walked in and took his seat at the front, behind his desk and eyed the class sternly. "Pull out your books to page one hundred and six," he ordered without a second thought. Grantaire moaned to himself. He tried to slide his headphone in, to listen to the audio version, instead of reading. "Nicolas Grantaire! What are you doing?" the teacher shouted storming up the aisle towards his target. Grantaire slid the earphone out of his ear with a wince. "We do not allow listening to music here," he hissed, pushing the book towards Grantaire. "And for that you can read first, page one hundred and six," he stated, Grantaire froze.

"Urr, no," Grantaire replied bluntly. The teacher glared at him with a ferocious intensity.

"You have to do what I say Nicolas," he practically snarled at the new rebel in the class.

"Urr, no," he repeated again and the class fell silent. Grantaire was hauled out of his seat with a firm grip to his arm.

Grantaire was frog marched down the corridor with the English teacher furiously ranting in his ear the whole way. He tuned out the words and drifted into his own thoughts once again; they were a much nicer place than this hell he was living. He found himself sat in that painfully uncomfortable chair in the Headmaster's office for the second time in two days. "Nicolas I don't know what to do with you," Javert muttered and Grantaire just shrugged using his default response to any allegation. "You'll have to go in solitary detention for two days," he added with what sounded like a sigh. His English teacher left and Headmaster Javert marched his down to the cells. They weren't called cells but that was the concept; solitary was where they locked you in a room alone and gave you work to do. Grantaire had no intentions of doing the work but he was very familiar with what it entails.

Enjolras left his English lesson and dragged his feet to the Headmaster's office to pick up his charge. He hated this job but he was warming to the boy he was in charge of; even if he infuriated him most of the time. He knocked on Javert's door and was called in. He let out a deep sigh and slowly pushe the door open. "I'm here to pick up Nicolas sir," Enjolras sighed while standing straight and firm in the doorway.

"You are relieved of your duties looking after him, Julien. And he will not be back in your room for a few days," Javert explained and Enjolras' heart dropped against his will. He should be happy that he didn't need to babysit the rebel anymore. But yet he couldn't bring himself to be. Javert dismissed him and he walked out almost in a trance. He wanted to be happy and couldn't get his mind round why he wasn't. In his daze, Enjolras made his first mistake. He didn't look where he was going and walked straight into the school's biggest thug.

Gueulemer was not to be messed with; the last person that did ended up in the hospital for two weeks. "What you think you're doing faggot?" Gueulemer snarled, grabbing Enjolras' shirt collar and lifts him off the floor.

"Sorry Gueulemer. Just wasn't looking where I was walking," he apologised, hoping in vain to avoid an incident.

"I'll have to teach you a lesson then won't I blondie," he hissed and Enjolras braced himself for a punch. A shrill whistle caused both men to flinch and to turn round. Grantaire was stood about a foot behind Gueulemer with that smirk on his face that meant he was about to do something stupid.

"Hey fatso!" He shouted and Enjolras winced. Gueulemer snarled in anger and his fist tightened. "No wonder Enjolras walked into you, you fill the whole corridor!" He shouted and within seconds Enjolras was on the floor and Grantaire was wrestling with Gueulemer in the middle of the corridor. The littler man was able to avoid most of Gueulemer's blows but the giant was soon able to pin him down and batter his little body.

Enjolras shouted for someone to come help and tried to prise the men of each other but by the time Headmaster Javert arrived, Grantaire's body was already broken and limp. Gueulemer was escorted off and an ambulance called. Gueulemer struggled against the teacher's grip and spat on Grantaire's limp body; Enjolras felt rage build in him but it wouldn't help to have him in the same state as Grantaire. Gueulemer had never flipped out on anyone like that before but no one had intentionally insulted him. Guilt welled in Enjolras' stomach at the sight of Grantaire being pulled onto a stretcher and he found himself asking Headmaster Javert if he could go to the hospital to be with him.

Enjolras sat silently in Miss Nord's car, watching the world go by. The young art teacher had instantly volunteered to be the adult responsible for making sure Grantaire was alright and was allowed to take one friend of Grantaire's with her. Enjolras was the closest person to a friend Grantaire had. But when he arrived, he didn't expect to see a sobbing school boy sat in the waiting room, waiting to see Grantaire. The mysterious boy looked up at the two visitors and Enjolras instantly recognised him. "Jean-Henri?" Enjolras asked and the boy tightened.

"How do you know me?" Jean-Henri asked tensely as Enjolras sat down.

"Grantaire always talked about you and I recognised you from the drawing he showed me," Enjolras explained looking at the floor. "How did you get here so quickly?" Enjolras added and Jean almost broke into tears once again.

"I convinced my parents to let me come up during our half term holidays to see him. He said he hated it here and I missed him," Jean sobbed, Enjolras rested a hand on his shoulder. He never knew what he should do in emotional situations like this. His body became rigid as the overly trusting boy leant on his shoulder for comfort.

"You're his friend aren't you?" Jean-Henri asked with what looked like a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Enjolras looked down at Grantaire's boyfriend and studied the boy. He obviously caring and thoroughly in love like Grantaire was but also studious and law abiding, something Grantaire was certainly not. Jean-Henri should be good for the rebel; being in a stable relationship would help him have a stable life. Enjolras nodded as not to break the small boy's heart. "Look after him for me, please. He is self-destructive and needs someone responsible to watch over him," Jean practically begged and again Enjolras found himself bending to Jean's will. He found himself thinking of Jehan when he saw the boy clinging to his arm; they could be twins, the way they manipulated him with pouts and puppy dog was uncannily similar. And he also found himself warming to Jean-Henri and wanting to comfort the sobbing boy. He awkwardly pulled Jean-Henri in a soft embrace and let the boy cry onto his shoulder. Neither child noticed a doctor walking into the waiting room. "Are you the friends and family of Nicolas Grantaire?" he asked and all three of them snapped fully awake again.