Grantaire, Grow Up
Chapter 7: The Night Ends at Last
Enjolras' thoughts were rudely interrupted by a shout from the front door. He turned around to see what was happening now as Combeferre came running out of the kitchen with a soaking wet Joly close behind.
-o-
In the doorway to Grantaire's apartment stood Jehan and Courfeyrac. Jehan stood still, turning white as a ghost, a few silent tears running down his face. Courfeyrac, on the other hand, had completely fallen apart at the sight of Grantaire lying limp against the chair. He had let out an ear-piercing cry and collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably as Combeferre and Joly ran back into the room. He spoke as well, but through the sobs the only words the others could make out were "dead" and "all my fault."
Enjolras had no idea what to do, something that seemed to be becoming more frequent, and he didn't like it. His sore throat had returned as well, and he suddenly found himself wanting to retreat to his own home, and bed. Joly was a mess, soaking wet from trying to clean himself off from his medical procedure to keep Grantaire alive and still visibly shaking. Combeferre looked between the two of them and, deciding it would be up to him to quell this newest crisis, walked over to Courfeyrac, sat down next to him, and drew him in close. Jehan remained unmoving, turning yet whiter.
"Courf…" Combeferre said softly, "Courf, please listen to me. He's not dead…Courf, he's going to be ok, we got here in time…He's just asleep…please calm down, you're going to make yourself sick…" This went on for some time, the message not getting through to the upset man. It did click with Jehan, however, who sighed with relief before collapsing on the floor next to his friends.
"Do you mean it, Ferre? Is he really going to be ok?" He asked, his face a mix of apprehension and hope.
Combeferre hesitated just a moment before replying. "Yes, it will take some time, but he should make a full recovery." He glanced back at Joly briefly before continuing to try to calm Courfeyrac down.
Jehan burst into a wide smile, the relief returning him to his natural overly happy state. He took over Combeferre's attempts at calming their friend, grabbing Courfeyrac's face and forcing him to make eye contact. "Courfeyrac, I told you back in the alley, Grantaire would be ok. This night is ending and the sun is rising once more. Our friend is safe and he will be well again. And this isn't your fault." He completed his assessment with growing firmness.
Courfeyrac stared into the poet's eyes for a few moments, letting his words sink in. When they finally did, a small smile appeared on his face, before it became buried in the younger man's chest as Courfeyrac all but threw himself onto Jehan's chest in a tight embrace. Jehan fell backwards, again, with Courfeyrac on top of him, but quickly returned the hug nevertheless.
Feeling his friends would be fine now, Combeferre turned his attention to the others in the room. Joly had disappeared during the ordeal in the doorway, presumably to return to scrubbing himself with every speck of soap available in the kitchen. Neither Enjolras nor Grantaire had moved, the latter still slumped awkwardly against the chair and the former standing unwavering near the painting in the corner.
"Enjolras," he said after contemplating a bit, "come here and help me move Grantaire to his bed." Enjolras was again slow on the uptake, but after watching Combeferre get up from the doorway floor and walk over to Grantaire it finally clicked. He glanced back at the painting one more time before moving over to help his friend move the painting's creator to a more comfortable location. Grantaire was lighter than he had expected, and moving him proved rather easy. He was a mess though, pale white with bags around his eyes, vomit covered in places, and very cold.
"Let's try to get him cleaned up some as well, and changed into some clothes that aren't soaking wet from the rain and filthy from everything that has gone on here," Combeferre said as he began to leave the room, "I'll grab some soap and water from the kitchen, why don't you start to get him undressed."
Enjorlas tensed at the thought. He wanted to object, but before he could get the words out, Combeferre had already disappeared, and he was once again alone with the object of his newfound…with Grantaire. He gulped as he turned away from the bedroom door back to where Grantaire lay on the bed. I can do this, he told himself, it's no big deal really. Besides, it's just Grantaire, why am I so concerned? I'm just shaken up from everything that's gone on today. It has been enough to upset anyone; there's nothing else going on. There's nothing more to it than that. It's just Grantaire.
Combeferre returned, dish of water, soap, and towel in hand, and was quite surprised to see Enjolras still standing where he had left him. He set his things down and turned to place a hand on his leader's shoulder. "Enj, are you alright?"
Enjolras jumped slightly at the touch, then turned to meet his friend's gaze. "I'm fine."
"Really, Enj? You don't seem fine." Combeferre replied with raised eyebrows.
Enjolras hesitated a moment, then conceded, "ok, I'm not fine. Do you blame me?"
"No, I don't," he replied, returning to his supplies and moving to begin cleaning their friend, "To be honest, I am more afraid than I have ever been in my life." He paused, and Enjolras regarded him closely, clearly surprised by his statement. "For a moment there I thought we had lost our friend, and I was terrified by the thought. You give Grantaire little credit, but he means a lot to us, to all of us. Even you, whether you'll admit to it or not." This last sentence he said glancing back up at the blond revolutionary, a smile and a slight wink coinciding with it.
Enjolras was back on the defensive at that, "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Combeferre chuckled before returning to his work. "I'm sure you know. Or if you don't, you will in time. You are here; for now, you have to at least admit that there was a reason you came here, after I specifically told you to go home instead. And that reason, if I may be so bold, is currently lying unconscious on this bed."
Enjolras was stunned, unsure of what to say in response. So he said nothing, choosing instead to stand silently watching his best friend tend to the man who, before tonight, he'd never paid much attention to or given a second thought to.
"Perhaps I've been too bold," Combeferre said after a few moments of silence, looking up again at his friend, "contrary to popular belief, I can't read your mind. Maybe you need time to sort things out and collect your thoughts?"
Enjolras hesitated again, something else he rarely did but which seemed to be becoming a regular occurrence, before nodding in return, just once.
Combeferre sighed, returning once more to his work, "well, you will have it. Joly finally calmed down enough to speak, and he says Grantaire will be unconscious for two or three days. We've decided to take turns tending to him. In the meantime, you can sort out whatever is going on inside your head. I won't press you any more about it…But if you decide you want to talk about it, you know where to find me." With that, he placed his bowl of now dirty water aside and stood up. "Now, will you help me get Grantaire changed into some clean clothes and placed properly in bed?"
Enjolras tensed once more, then nodded, again only once, before moving to help his friend. What am I going to do now? He thought.
-o-
Joly had nearly scrubbed his hands and arms raw in the attempt to clean himself off before he finally deemed himself germ free. He left the kitchen and moved back into the main room. At first he was shocked to see Grantaire was no longer lying on the floor, but after a few seconds his memory caught up with him and he vaguely recalled Combeferre talking to him while he was frantically washing his upper body. Courfeyrac had finally calmed down, or at least he was no longer crying. He was still half attached to Jehan, but the two had been able to move to a sitting position once again. Jehan alone seemed to be somewhat relaxed, leaning against the wall behind him while his friend leaned on him for support, in more ways than one.
"How is he?" Joly asked when Jehan noticed him enter the room.
"He'll be ok. It's hard to see a friend so hurt," Jehan replied.
Joly was unsure if that last sentence was meant to describe Courfeyrac, Jehan, himself, or the others, but, figuring it would probably work with any, he didn't ask. "How are you doing?" was the question he asked instead.
Jehan paused a moment before replying. "I'll be ok too. It's been a rough night for all of us I think. It'll be good to see the sun rise once more and bring light to our darkness. What about you?"
It was Joly's turn to pause. Instead of answering right away, he moved over to sit down next to his friends. "I'm not sure. I knew it would probably be bad when we came here, but I wasn't expecting this. I'm not sure what to make of it."
"What happened?" Jehan asked, eyes growing wide with concern.
Joly debated internally whether or not he should tell his friend the details. Finally, he decided if they were going to help Grantaire, they'd need to know, all of them. And Grantaire would need all of their help to recover. "He poisoned himself, with medicine I had given him. We almost didn't make it in time, if we'd been a few minutes later I don't think we could have saved him. As it was I still almost lost him when I was…getting the medicine, poison, out of his system. Thankfully I had something with me that would balance it out, so he should recover with no lasting problems." He paused again, a single tear beginning to form, "I don't know what I would have done if my medicine had killed him. It would have been all my fault…"
Courfeyrac had looked up as he listened to Joly's description, but he cut him off at this point before the medical student could continue. "It's not your fault Joly, and it wouldn't have been if things had turned out differently," He said defiantly, "I'm the one who started this, I pushed both of them to argue. It's my fault."
Jehan groaned, "Courf, Joly, stop this. Neither of you are to blame, and you both know it. If he didn't have your medicine, he would have found some other way. And if you hadn't started their argument it would have erupted on its own anyway, they were both out of sorts this evening. Be grateful things unfolded in a way that could be fixed. The argument could have happened after we were all gone, and no one would have known to look for Grantaire and help. And he could have come back and used something you weren't able to heal. This has been a dark night for Les Amis, but it could have been much worse." He finished with a huff, looking back and forth between his two friends.
"Jehan is right," Combeferre said, reentering the room. "This night could have gone in so many different directions. Let's be grateful that we have gotten it under control."
Courfeyrac and Joly made eye contact with one another, agreement passing between them, before both turned to Combeferre and nodded their approval.
"So what do we do now?" Courfeyrac asked, straightening up so he was sitting properly instead of half-lying on his friend's lap. "What's our next step?"
Combeferre thought for a moment, before answering. "Joly and I will take turns watching over Grantaire. He will need some medical care as he recovers, and he definitely should not be left alone until we figure out what is going on with him. The rest of the Amis need to be told what all has happened as well; my guess is they are probably all back at the Musain by now, waiting for us to return."
"Courf and I can go talk to them," Jehan said cheerfully, nudging his friend in the side. "But they'll want to come and see for themselves that he is alright, you know."
"Yeah. It's ok if they stop by, but tell them he'll be unconscious for few days. When he does wake up Joly and I will need to talk with him first before we can let anyone else see him."
"I'll pass the message along," Jehan said, before standing and reaching his hand out to help Courfeyrac up off the ground.
"Ferre, you're sure he's ok?" Courfeyrac asked after getting up.
"I'm positive Courf. Grantaire will live." Combeferre's reply gave Courfeyrac the resolve he needed to follow Jehan out the door and back to the Musain. After they had left, Combeferre turned to Joly, who was still seated on the floor. "Why don't you head home, my friend. I can take first watch."
"Are you sure? I can stay too, just in case something happens. He might have a negative reaction to the medicine. Or there might be unforeseen complications from the vomiting. Or…"
"Joly, stop. We got it under control. He's going to be fine. He just needs rest now, and so do you. I can handle it. Go home, get some sleep, and then when you come back tomorrow you can bring along all the supplies we will need for the next few days."
Joly wavered, clearly wanting to bring up some more objections, but he faltered under Combeferre's gaze. "Alright, I'll make out a list of everything we need before I go to bed. If there's any change send for me immediately. I'll leave my medical bag here with you too, just in case. I know I've left some other supplies around here somewhere, but I don't know where Grantaire's put them…"
"Thank you, Joly. I will see you tomorrow. Now go home and get some rest."
"Yes, alright. Ferre, take care of him, won't you?"
"I will, I promise." With that, Joly stood and, after just a moment's hesitation, also left.
"And what would you have me do?" Enjolras asked quietly, stepping out of the doorway behind Combeferre where he'd been standing while this conversation went on.
Combeferre turned around to look at his friend, appraising him for the first time since he'd entered the café dripping mud several hours ago. "You look like you could use a good night's rest yourself. I think you should take my advice from earlier and go home."
"But what if…" Enjolras started, but he was quickly cut off.
"No way, Enjolras. If I needed help, I would have asked Joly to stay behind. I can handle this on my own for now. I'm sure you heard Jehan, the others will want to stop in and see for themselves that Grantaire is ok, so I'm sure I won't be alone for long. You said earlier you weren't feeling well, and you certainly look unwell," he said sternly. Enjolras looked slightly hurt by the chastisement, and Combeferre softened before adding, "I know you mean well my friend. But you won't be helping anyone if you get sick too. Go home, get some sleep, and come back tomorrow to check on him if you're that concerned about him. I promise you, everything will be fine. Trust me. Small victories, remember?"
"Small victories; it's how the war is won," Enjolras said, smiling slightly. "Ok, I'm going. But I'm coming back first thing in the morning to check on both of you. We need every man if our revolution is going to succeed, and you look like you could use a good night's sleep as well."
"I concede defeat, my liege," Combeferre said, laughing. Enjolras simply shook his head at the comment before walking out the door as well, shutting it behind him and leaving his best friend alone to care for his…for Grantaire.
Combeferre waited a moment to make sure everyone was truly gone, before returning to the bedroom to check on his unconscious patient. Satisfied Grantaire was still doing well, he returned to the main room and set about trying to put it back into some semblance of order. He made a fair amount of progress, getting much of the mess cleared up and the furniture straightened up, until his eyes came to rest upon the painting in the corner. Wow, he thought to himself, absorbing every detail. He stood rooted to the spot, amazed by the work of art in front of him, until he heard a knock at the door.