28/2/13

Disclaimer – I own nowt!

Bonjour mes amis, thanks for the support I have received for this fanfiction

Juliet116 – I know he is so sweet like that! Hadley Fraser is my favourite every Grantaire and I feel he just fits the part so naturally … And I am afraid it is later for Taire waking up! Sorry and all that.

Audrey Lynne – Thank you so much and I am afraid this chapter probably won't help you decide

Warning! This chapter is highly emotionally straining and upsetting. Please, please, please don't stop reading when it gets incredibly sad because it gets a lot better near the end! … Also please do not kill me for this! It just came to me in an English Lesson and I just thought "Damn, that works too well" So enjoy!

Chapter 4

Enjolras blinked his eyes open and stretched out. The position on the chair was not the most comfortable but at least he could think clearly after a long period of mind rest. All his joints clicked and he groaned as cramped muscles could finally move again. Once the sleep had slackened his firm hold on his mind, Enjolras looked around his room. Gloomy, overcast and silent; rain thrashed against the window in complete contrast to the blazing sunlight it was when he fell asleep. Combeferre was still sat by Grantaire's bedside but had his heand hung in his hands as his golden locks hid his expression. "Combeferre," Enjolras whispered slowly standing up and the medical student's shoulders tensed, almost in shock.
"Enjolras," he whispered raising his head but still not looking at the revolutionary. "Enjolras," he hissed staring at the wall. This sudden change of mood shocked Enjolras to the core. The duo had always been best friends ... Combeferre had never spoken to him in that way before.
"What is wrong mon ami?" Enjolras muttered, genuinely concerned.
"You are what is wrong!" Combeferre snapped, suddenly facing Enjolras. He looked haggard, tired and red rimmed his usually joyful eyes. A scruffy beard lined his face and his cheeks were hollowed. Enjolras backed away in horror.
"W, what?" He stammered as Combeferre stood up. The other boys joints clicked and cracked like Enjolras' did showing he had not moved in a long time.
"You have been asleep for a whole week!" Combeferre snapped anger raging a storm in his eyes.

The blonde revolutionary gawped. A week; a whole seven day week. He knew that he was tired but surely not that tired. "I am sorry mon ami but I can take over the watch now, you need to sleep," Enjolras murmured apologetically. Combeferre's eyes were suddenly full of tears and it looked like he was going to burst.
"Grantaire is dead!" He shouted with hate resonating in his voice. The room fell deathly silent, it was if the world had stopped as Enjolras drifted into shock. Grantaire couldn't be dead. Nicholas had to be alive. Combeferre's furious voice broke the silence. "Grantaire died a day ago, he awoke momentarily before he was hit with a seizure. We could not wake you! You wouldn't wake as he cried your name and began apologising to his dearest friend. You left him alone in his final moments," Combeferre hissed threateningly. "You said we always be together ... Nicholas died horribly alone!" Combeferre cried and burst into floods of tears.

Every word Combeferre shouted was like another dagger piercing Enjolras' marble heart. He wasn't as emotionless as everyone imagined him to be, he was not a marble statue. Their leader could hurt as well. And he was certainly hurting now. He had left his friend to die alone and in pain ... He could never forgive himself. But yet he could not cry. He had no way of letting these poisonous emotions out of his shattered mind but to stare in shock at Grantaire's spiritless body. Grantaire was the one who looked like a marble statue. His eyes were resting closed and his face was a mask of indifference that the winecask had never been able to wear in life. For a moment, Enjolras could pretend that that was not his friend laid on the bed and it was some imposter pretending to be Grantaire. But the way his brown fringe hung down over his eyes and scarf hung askew round his neck brought Enjolras back to the definite conclusion. That could be no one else. Images flashed through his mind of the humorous ami making light of any situation. Like that time, Combeferre had accidentally broken one of his painting. Grantaire just smiled his little enchanting smile, where his lip slowly curled up and his eyes twinkled, and proceeded to smash the broken painting over his friend's head and laugh. Grantaire's laugh was always infectious and could cheer Enjolras up every time he was feeling down. That laugh he would never hear again. Another dagger inside.

He could not rid his mind if the image of Grantaire smiling and flicking his fringe away from those crystal eyes. He screwed his eyes shut and tears trailed down his cheeks. "Why did you have to be so harsh to him? Then this would have never happened! We loved him even if you didn't!" Combeferre shouted stood next to Enjolras. Enjolras cried but could not find any words to describe and express his grief. "It is all your fault!" he shouted and stormed out of the room. The air felt thick and heavy weighing down on his troubled soul. His mind just could not comprehend that the unsinkable Grantaire was the man laid as still as stone in front of him. But yet it was. He could stop the flashes of times he had been overly critical of the jolly cynic.

The door flung open and Combeferre stood in the door way with a woman Enjolras didn't recognise. The unknown woman looked around and her eyes settled on Grantaire's limp body. A choked cry escaped her lips and she ran in and fell to the floor by his side. "My baby, my little Nic," she cried out holding his pale clammy hand rubbing his skin under her worn fingers. Grantaire's mother. Enjolras stepped backwards, the floorboard creaked and the woman's attention was attracted to the tall revolutionary. "You!" she shouted with rage. "It was you who killed my Nicholas!" she screamed striding towards Enjolras. He never thought he could be so scared of a single short woman; he was wrong. He face was tear stained and her hands twitching with grief. "I, I, I," Enjolras stuttered as she drew closer. With one swift movement Mme Grantaire had smack Enjolras around the face and was storming back to her son's side. Enjolras rubbed his cheek in shock but could not form a witty retort that would have usually shot out of his mouth. "I, I didn't know," he muttered but the distraught woman paid no heed to his strained words.

After about ten minutes of strained silence with the only noise being the faint sobs from Mme Grantaire, Combeferre stepped into the room. "Adriene, you need to head home now," Combeferre whispered and Grantaire's mother cried onto his shoulder and he led her out of the room. Then it was just him and the empty shell that used to be Grantaire. That was when the emotions came. All the feelings he had locked inside himself poured out in a seemingly endless flurry and tears flowed like a moving tide. His sobs caught in his sore throat and the Enjolras we all know collapsed into an emotional heap. He fell back into the chair he had slept in, and cried and cried. The world faded as his mind was just a ball of grief.

"Enjolras, Enj," he heard Combeferre whisper in a more soothing tone, that the last moment they talked lacked. "It's alright stop crying," Combeferre added. This made Enjolras falter and stare up at his friend through tear filled eyes.

"Ferre," Enjolras hoarsely whispered.

"That's right it's me," Combeferre muttered hugging Enjolras.

"But, but," Enjolras stuttered, his mind unable to comprehend this change in character.

"Enj, you were just dreaming," Combeferre muttered, "… and Grantaire has woken up."

A/N – Please don't hurt me! *raises chair in self-defence* if you kill me then there will be no more updates!