(Thanks again for the support. You are all amazing and it means so much to me :) Can't believe it's been more than a year already since my first fanfic... Hope you like this next chapter.)
With a somewhat disappointed sigh, Combeferre dropped back in his chair. For a few minutes he had dared to hope that Enjolras was waking up. He had felt his best friend's hand move within his own and he knew Grantaire felt the same thing if his expectant face was anything to go by. But no matter how hopeful the two friends were, Enjolras' face remained slack and his eyes did not open. And soon enough the small twitching of his fingers stopped as well.
"Damnit," Combeferre whispered softly and he dragged a tired hand across his face. He shouldn't be this surprised. Enjolras had lost a lot of blood and his body was traumatized. It only natural that he was unconscious and according to Joly he could stay that way for quite a while, maybe even a few days. But feeling his friend's hand move within his own had caused Combeferre's heart to flutter with hope and the medical student couldn't stop himself from doing his very best to coax Enjolras back to awareness. The disappointment and fear when he failed to do so made his heart heavy with newfound worry. Opposite from him, he saw Grantaire deflate visibly, almost like a punctured air balloon. The sorrow in his friend's face spoke volumes and Combeferre wished there was something he could do to take away the guilt and pain in Grantaire's heart. It didn't belong there. Just as Enjolras didn't belong in this bed.
"What if he never wakes up?" Grantaire suddenly interrupted the silence, his eyes filling with unwanted tears. "What if I never get the change to apologize or make it up to him? 'Ferre… What do I do then? He needs to know… There is so much he needs to know… There is so much he needs to do... He has to wake up..."
"He'll wake up," Combeferre said just as quietly, his own eyes not leaving Enjolras' still face. Though the medical student was just as worried as Grantaire – maybe even more so – and though his heart ached to have to see his best friend lie so still and pale in the bed, there was one thing that Combeferre knew for sure. There was one thing he did not doubt. Enjolras would wake up. Simply because there was no other choice. There was too much that needed to be done; too much that Enjolras had to accomplish. And that wasn't even the main reason. The main reason of why Enjolras had to wake up, was because he had made a promise. A promise to Combeferre that he wouldn't part this world without him. The same promise that Combeferre had made to Enjolras. The older student had made that very clear the last time when Enjolras was robbed and nearly got himself killed in the proces. They had an agreement and neither of them was leaving without the other. If they went down, they would do so together. That was the only way for them, even though both boys knew it wasn't something they could actually control.
"He'll wake up, 'Taire," Combeferre said again, with a little more power to his voice this time. "He has to, you see. Like you say, there is much he needs to know and there is much he needs to do... Needs to change... He'll have to wake up. He doesn't get any other option. It's as simple as that… So you see, 'Taire, he'll wake up. Just be patient. It will all be fine."
Grantaire didn't say anything but squeezed Enjolras' hand tightly while watching Combeferre with a worried frown. His words did nothing to comfort the drunkard. Not at all. If anything, they left him more fearful, because if Enjolras truly didn't wake up, then there was a big chance that their revolutionary group would not only lose one friend, but two. Or three… Because what life was there left for Grantaire if Enjolras died? He loved all the Amis, he truly did. But the only thing that gave his life purpose, was their Golden Leader. Without him, Grantaire would just be lost. Without his light, he would forever be in darkness.
Combeferre's quiet voice snapped Grantaire out of his thoughts only to realize that his friend wasn't speaking to him, but had focused his attention back on Enjolras.
"Won't you, Julien?" Combeferre whispered softly as he carded his hand through the blond curls and let it rest there. He brought Enjolras' hand up and gently kissed the bruised knuckles, unaware of the concerned look Grantaire was giving him. "You made me a promise, remember. And you never break a promise… So, you will wake up. You will. I know you will. You never disappoint me."
Grantaire had difficulty swallowing passed the growing lump in his throat and he had to press his lips together to prevent his bottom lip from quivering. This wasn't right. None of it was right. Enjolras lying motionless and pale in a bed was wrong. Combeferre breaking down and losing it was wrong. Gavroche having to witness the grotesque injury in his role model's side was wrong. Joly being forced to do a cauterization on his leader was wrong. The Amis not knowing what the hell happened was wrong. Grantaire not getting a chance to apologize was wrong. Enjolras dying was wrong. So wrong.
He opened his mouth to say something; to offer some words of comfort to Combeferre, just as the medical student had tried with him earlier, but the sudden loud voices behind the bedroom door shut him up. Both Grantaire and Combeferre looked up shocked to the bang of the door opening and watched how a panicked, disheveled Courfeyrac burst into the room. He was pale and sweating and Grantaire guessed he must have been running a long way if the panting was anything to go by. Behind him a confused Joly shrugged his shoulders as if to apologize for their friend's sudden entrance.
Courfeyrac came to a stop in the middle of the room, looking at Enjolras as if his friend had sprung a second head. He shook his head and slowly moved closer to the bed, immediately taking hold of the hand Combeferre had reached out to him. "'Vroche… Gavroche… H-He told me what happened. I didn't believe him. G-God… Is he alright? Has he woken up yet? Will he be okay? Is he in pain? How long has he been like this? 'Ferre, why isn't he waking up?"
The questions tumbled from Courfeyrac's mouth like a waterfall and he didn't give anyone the chance to actually answer them. Tears gradually made their way down his cheeks, the sight of his close friend so still in the bed being too much. He pressed his forehead against Enjolras' and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He knew he was rambling, he always did when he was scared. But who could blame him. One minute he was casually talking to some of the students Enjolras had send him to and then another minute Gavroche came running to him, in tears, screaming that Enjolras had been pierced by a stake and was going to die. Courfeyrac was sure his heart had stopped beating right at that moment only to pound freakishly fast the second he started running back.
Combeferre placed a comforting hand on his friend's back and smiled sympathetically at Grantaire who was staring at Courfeyrac with wide eyes, still a little shocked by his friend's sudden entrance. "Calm down, Courf…" he said quietly after a few moments, "He's still hanging on…" The medical student pulled Courfeyrac away from Enjolras and into a tight hug, allowing him to cry on his shoulder just as Grantaire had done less than an hour ago.
Courfeyrac melted into the embrace and slowly started to calm down. When sobs were no longer wracking his body, he sniffed loudly and carefully sat down on the bed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, 'Ferre?" he whispered, voice still thick with emotion and tears.
"It means he's fighting," Joly interrupted gently before Combeferre could answer. "It means there is hope yet." The older medical student came to stand behind Grantaire and placed a firm hand on the drunkards shoulder, squeezing softly.
Courfeyrac stared at Joly for a second and then slowly nodded his head. It didn't really do much to settle his pounding heart, but at least his friend was still there. Still with them. Still fighting. He suddenly grinned and ruffled Enjolras' hair. "Course he is," he chuckled lightly, sounding a little more like himself, "He's a fighter... He never gives up. He'll be alright, right 'Ferre?" Courfeyrac gave his bespectacled friend a pleading look. Combeferre forced himself to smile and nodded. "Yes, he'll be alright."
Grantaire tried to ignore the soft sigh escaping from the retreating person behind him. Joly might be the more rational one at this point, but Grantaire didn't want to hear honest or rational opinions. He needed the same thing as Combeferre and Courfeyrac. He needed Enjolras to be alright.
Grantaire watched how the two friends huddled closer together next to Enjolras, with Combeferre explaining to Courfeyrac the things that happened after ther friend had fallen, and he felt a strange pang of jealousy in his heart. The three of them had such a special bond and Grantaire wished he could have something like that with someone. Preferably with Enjolras, of course, but he didn't think that would ever happen. He looked down at his hands - which were still folded around Enjolras' left hand – and rubbed soft circles on the skin with his thumb. Now that Courfeyrac was here, Grantaire felt like he was intruding on something private. He felt like he didn't belong there with them and it hurt, because he really didn't want to leave again. He didn't think he could stand it to be seperated from Enjolras now that it was all too clear that their blonde friend was hanging by a thread. He couldn't bear it if he left and Enjolras' heart stopped beating. Grantaire unconsciously tightened his hold on the hand in his own and tore his gaze away from the duo opposite of him. Instead he focused his attention back on Enjolras. His heart almost jumped out of his chest and skipped multiple beats when he realized that his Apollo's eyes had opened to slits and were staring at the ceiling.
Combeferre and Courfeyrac both looked up at hearing Grantaire's sudden distress and Combeferre nearly choked on a gasp when he saw that Enjolras was awake. He immediately leaned forward, cupped the side of Enjolras' face and gently turned his head towards him. Courfeyrac was right beside him. Grantaire stayed in his seat, but held Enjolras' hand in a death grip and watched with wide eyes how Combeferre tried to get his best friend's attention.
For a few seconds, Enjolras didn't respond at all, just kept staring straight ahead as if he wasn't really awake yet. But then suddenly his face contorted in a painful grimace and he let out a miserable, quiet whimper. The sound broke Grantaire's heart. Enjolras wasn't supposed to sound like that. He wasn't supposed to sound so weak and small. It wasn't right. The grip he had on the blonde's hand tightened even more when he felt Enjolras start to squeeze back in a desperate attempt to alleviate some of the pain.
"Julien," Combeferre said softly, leaning so close to Enjolras that he was whispering directly in his ear, "It's okay...You're okay... Try to breathe through it, mon Petit. I know it hurts... I know you're in pain... Please stay still... Don't try to move... We're right here, you're okay..."
Tears escaped Enjolras' eyes and he desperately squeezed them shut as he tried to curl into himself. A whispered plea of Combeferre's name escaped his lips, begging him with only one word to make it stop. To help him. To make it okay.
Combeferre turned away from Enjolras' face for a second, looking at Grantaire with tears in his eyes. "R, get Joly back in here."
TBC.
(I'm not all that sure about this one, but I hope you liked this chapter! Please review and let me know what you think? Tomorrow is actually my birthday and exactly a year since I started The Medical Student and his Protege. Time flies and I'm still so grateful to write these fics. It's a wonderful and dedicated fandom)