(Hi there! So this chapter took some time to get up because I've been so caught up with studies and my other story lately. It's been hard to focus on all three, but here it is. Hope you like this one, enjoy!)

It had been a few hours since the boy in Combeferre's bed had succumbed to sleep again. He had been so engrossed in the book he was reading, that he had tried to ignore his growing exhaustion for as long as he possibly could until, finally, he had fallen asleep on top of the Rousseau, successfully using it as a pillow.

Combeferre found it endearing to say the least, although he would never tell the boy that out loud. He could almost feel the furious glare that would be thrown his way. He had been pretending to work on his studies while Enjolras was reading his book, but in reality, he had been observing the boy closely. That is until the blonde looked up and friendly, albeit a bit coolly, asked him subtly to mind his own business instead of watching him read.

Combeferre had frowned amused and had continued the essay he was working on. When he had looked up again a little while later, Enjolras had passed out on top of his book, sound asleep. The medical student had carefully removed the book and then pulled the covers over the boy. He made sure to put the book on the nightstand next to the bed, so Enjolras could continue reading it when he woke up. It amazed Combeferre to see how far in the book the boy had already come.

Now, a few hours later, Combeferre's amazement was replaced once again by worry. The boy's temperature had risen too high for the medical's students liking and his body was now wracked with feverish shivers. He unconsciously tried to pull the covers up higher; to bury himself under them, while curling in on himself in a desperate attempt to get warmer.

Combeferre had feared this would happen ever since he noticed the feverish blush on the boy's face the night prior. Enjolras had no doubt caught a severe cold during his long walks through the snowy streets of Paris and Combeferre prayed it wouldn't turn into something more serious. He had placed himself firmly on the edge of the bed as he tried to untangle the blanket from the blonde.

Enjolras moaned pitifully in response. He reluctantly opened his eyes and tried to glare at Combeferre, but his eyes were unfocused and glazed over by fever, so he failed miserably. "I'm so cold", he whispered instead and he tried to wrap himself in his blanket once again. Combeferre nodded and placed a cool hand on the boy's forehead, frowning at the heat he felt. He then pulled a thermometer out of his medical bag which he had positioned next to the bed and motioned for Enjolras to open his mouth.

The blonde did as he was told and Combeferre slid the thermometer under his tongue, absentmindedly stroking Enjorlas' curls in an attempt to comfort him. Although his first reflex was to pull away, Enjolras found the touch quite comforting indeed, so he let Combeferre continue and tried to shift his attention from feeling miserable to focusing on his new found friends' soothing touch.

When Combeferre pulled the thermometer out of the Enjolras' mouth, it read 103 F. The medical student pressed his lips together and cursed inwardly. "Got to get that temperature down", he then mumbled silently, more to himself than to Enjolras. The blonde watched closely as Combeferre stood up to collect water, a cloth and again that bottle of Laudanum, which Enjolras really didn't look forward to taking.

Combeferre returned to the bed and smiled sadly at the boy. "You're not going to like it, but I've got to get that fever down Enjolras", he said gently. He then reached out and pulled the covers down to the boys waist, causing him to shiver more violently. "No, please", he whispered weakly as he tried to get the blanket back up. "Please, I'm so cold." But Combeferre did not give in and softly batted Enjolras' hands away from the covers.

He then unbuttoned the top of Enjolras' shirt so he had better access to the boy's neck and shoulders. He wasn't surprised when the blonde gasped in shock as soon as the cold, moist cloth made contact with his too hot skin. Combeferre placed one cloth on Enjolras' forehead, while moving with another around his neck, shoulders and upper torso. Enjolras only started to tremble more and he tried to squirm away from the touch that felt like knives of ice trying to pierce his body.

Combeferre held him still however and for that he whimpered weakly (something he would never admit to or believe in the future). The medical student resumed his stroking of Enjolras' hair in a desperate attempt to distract the boy from the uncomfortable cold. It only helped a little. Combeferre replaced the cloth on Enjolras' forehead and the one he was using a few times and after a little while of trying to cool the boy's body down, he once again placed the thermometer under Enjolras' tongue. It now read 102 F. Still too high, but it'll do for now, Combeferre thought.

He offered Enjolras' the Laudanum to help him sleep more comfortably, but the blonde refused. He didn't like the medicine at all, it made his defences even weaker than they already were and it dulled his nerves. Combeferre didn't force it on him and for that Enjolras was glad. He was still terribly cold though and he doubted if he could fall back asleep without at least a little bit of warmth. He looked up at Combeferre with pleading eyes. "Please Combeferre, I'm so cold, can I please have the blanket back?" His winced at the weakness and the near begging tone of his own voice.

"Only for as long as your temperature doesn't rise up again", Combeferre answered as he pulled the blankets back up. He didn't remove the cloth from the boy's forehead. Enjolras was immensely grateful for the covers, although they gave him far too little warmth as he had hoped. He closed his eyes and he heard Combeferre's voice asking something, but his mind was too hazed to comprehend what it was. He frowned his confusion and mumbled unintelligibly.

Then he felt a gentle squeeze of his hand and he opened his eyes. Combeferre was hovering right above him. He felt a hand below his shoulders, pushing him up a little. "I said you need to drink some water, then you can go back to sleep", Combeferre said as he supported the boy and set the cup at his lips. Enjolras nodded and took a few sips.

"I'm sorry", he muttered quietly when Combeferre removed the water.

"For what?"

"For being a burden", Enjolras whispered sleepily. "I don't like to be a burden, I try not to but I always fail." There was something resembling defeat in his voice and it didn't suit him.

Combeferre clenched his teeth. He cursed the person who ever put that idea in the boy's head. "You're not a burden, Enjolras and don't ever say that to me again. You'll never be a burden. You're just sick, it is hardly your fault." The blonde frowned unconvinced but kept his eyes closed. Combeferre sighed and once again pulled a hand through Enjolras' hair. With that, the boy fell back into blissful darkness.

TBC.

(There we go! Poor, young, sick Enjolras. I hope you liked this chapter, please let me know what you think! I'll try to update my other story today as well, but I'm not making any promises! Till next time!)