Warning: There is a description of a car accident, but not in detail. Also warnings for descriptions of panic attacks.
"Combeferre, could you drive me to the store later? I need more food."
It was a Thursday evening and everyone was sitting around and chatting at the Musain. Some people were studying or trying to get work done (really, it was only Enjolras, Combeferre, and Joly), but most were just socializing and relaxing before the weekend started. Combeferre sighed, glancing at his friend's hopeful expression. He loved Courfeyrac, he really did, but he was getting tired of having to drive him around. It wouldn't be a problem if Courfeyrac lived closer to things, but he didn't and so Combeferre was stuck driving him around.
"I suppose," he replied, placing a sticky note in his book.
Courfeyrac grinned. "Thanks, 'Ferre!" he shouted, before turning back to his conversation with Bahorel and Feuilly.
"You know, you don't have to drive him," Enjolras noted, looking up from his laptop to glance at his best friend.
"You know he can't drive, Enjolras. It's not really a problem."
"But we all took Driver's Ed. I don't know why he doesn't know how… Not to mention, you've been driving him around since you got your license. You should teach him how to, or just tell him to take the bus."
Combeferre paused. Enjolras did have a point. He'd been driving Courfeyrac places for nearly five and a half years now; Courf really should have learned by now.
"Fair enough. I'll try to teach him later on," he concluded, turning back to his book.
Everyone who knew James Courfeyrac knew about his sisters. He had three of them, all younger than him.
The oldest was Bridget, who was 18 and was affectionately known as Bee by the group. She planned on going into music when she graduated and loved hanging out with the girls of the group, especially Musichetta. She had the same brown hair as Courfeyrac, only hers was straight. She had loving brown eyes and she was always stealing her brother's hoodies. She laughed loudly and was always asking what protests they were planning next. She was especially involved in the group when they discussed worker's rights or environmental problems.
Jeanne was 15 and she was much quieter than her older sister and brother. Every time the group saw her, she'd be reading another classic book. She really liked Combeferre, Joly, and Jehan because they tended to be softer than the rest of them and would always suggest books for her to read. She took after her mother's looks; she had curly blonde hair, and green eyes that always seemed to be shining. She wouldn't participate much with the group, but when they discussed topics such as child abuse, she'd quietly set aside her book and pay close attention (she wanted to be a social worker or a child therapist when she was older).
Aimee was the baby of the Courfeyrac family. She was 7 years old and she was always giggling and holding onto her brother's back. She was the spitting image of Courf; she had curly brown hair and bright brown eyes just like him, with freckles dusted across her cheeks and nose. She absolutely adored Bossuet, Bahorel, and Grantaire and would follow them around wherever they went… unless Enjolras was talking. When Enjolras was talking, she seemed to be hypnotized and would sit on the floor in front of him while he spoke. She'd stare at the man with her mouth partly open and it was one of the few times when she wasn't babbling away. Courfeyrac would always tease Enjolras because whenever she did that, E would wear a tiny smile for the rest of the night.
All of Les Amis adored Courfeyrac's sisters and would always question when he would bring them to see the group. But there was something they didn't know.
Courfeyrac used to have a brother.
Isaac was 11 years old when Courf was born, and he was not happy about it. He didn't want a baby brother, he wanted a new bike. But he got a crying baby who smelled really badly.
"How can you not love him, Isaac? James's a cutie," his mother would say, moving so that he could hold the baby.
Isaac wrinkled up his nose as James was placed in his arms. The baby had small tufts of brown hair and pink skin that seemed way too fragile for him.
Isaac looked closely at him wondering what the big deal was. He knew lots of people with babies; he tended to think that they were ugly. His face was close to the baby's and he was trying to decipher what his eye color was when James got this really big grin on his face. He had no teeth but he was smiling widely at Isaac and Isaac couldn't help but think that maybe having a baby brother wouldn't be all that bad.
"Isaac, can you take James to his friend's house today? It's on the way to your soccer practice and I have to pick up your grandmother's birthday gift."
Seventeen year old Isaac sighed, turning to look at his mother where she was attempting to feed baby Bridget. His mom's stomach was getting bigger day by day, and Isaac wondered if he'd soon have another little sister soon. "I guess so. C'mon, Jamie, we're leaving in five minutes!" he shouted up the stairs before trying to find his soccer ball and cleats.
"I'm ready!" six year old James called, racing down the stairs with his Gameboy in hand. "Do I get to ride with you?" he questioned with a smile, turning to face his older brother.
Isaac finished pulling on his cleats before grinning and ruffling James's hair. "Yep. C'mon, we don't want you to be late for…"
"Alex!"
"Alex's house. Let's go," he finished, kissing his mother's cheek quickly before dragging James out to the car.
"When do I get to sit up front with you?" James asked, buckling himself into his seat as Isaac started the car.
"Well, you're six now so you've still got a little ways to go." He drove for a little ways before he turned on the radio station, pausing at one with the classics.
"I don't like this station. It's for old people. Can you put in my CD?"
"Nope. I'm driving, I get to listen to my music."
James pouted. "But you always get to listen to your music!"
Isaac grinned. "When you get to drive, you'll get to choose the music."
"But that's not for forever!"
"Well, I guess you'll have to stick with my mu—Shit!"
Isaac attempted to swerve out of the truck's way.
It didn't work.
There was an impact, and James's Gameboy flew out of his hands. There was glass shattering and the car flipped once before stopping. James was whimpering quietly when it stopped and he held onto his head tightly.
He was still whimpering when a middle aged woman tapped on his window loudly.
"Sweetie? Are you okay? Oh my God, Ben, call the ambulance!"
James tried not to move but his head really hurt and he didn't hear his brother.
"Is-Isaac? Are you okay?" he sniffled. He waited. No response. "Isaac?" Nothing. He didn't understand why his brother wasn't talking. He didn't understand why his head hurt, but it did and he was scared and he wanted his brother to take him home.
"Kid, we're gonna get you out okay? You just gotta hold on a minute."
All James knew was that there were lights and sirens and people were asking him questions and all he wanted to find Isaac because he could answer all the questions and then he could take them both home. Some lady looked at his head and said something about a cussion before he felt arms around him.
"James! Oh thank God. James, you're okay, everything's okay," his mother whispered in his ear and he was crying because he didn't understand what was going on and his mother was crying into his shoulder and he just wanted to go home.
"Mommy? Where's Isaac? I want to go home," he whimpered, pressing his face into her stomach.
His mother let out a quiet sob. "James, Isaac… Isaac's not… Oh God, Braden, what am I supposed to tell him?" she asked his father, standing up.
James looked up at his mother, confusion in his eyes. "What's wrong with Isaac? He wasn't 'sponding to me in the car. Is he okay?"
His mother let out another sob, before pressing her face into his father's shoulder.
"James… Isaac's dead."
The funeral was three weeks later and all James knew was that his brother wasn't coming home and everyone was crying and it was all his fault. If he hadn't argued about playing his CD then Isaac would still be here and his mother would still have a smile and his heart wouldn't hurt so badly.
He was wearing a new suit his mother got him and he was sniffling softly as different people said good things about his big brother. Then his mom took his hand and him and his dad and baby Bridget went up with her and she was saying nice things and then she was crying. He decided he wanted to say nice things too.
He reached for the microphone and closed his eyes for a second, thinking hard about what he wanted to say.
"Isaac was my big brother. He was really nice to me and he would always play with me, no matter what. He'd even play with me when his friends were over!" There was a wet laugh from the crowd. "But Isaac was a really cool big brother. Sometimes he'd take me to get ice cream and other times he'd help me with my games! I just… I want my big brother back," he finished, wiping at his eyes as the tears came again.
He felt his mother pick him up and take him back to his seat. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to fall asleep so he wouldn't hurt so badly anymore.
For a long time after that, Courfeyrac couldn't even get into a car without panicking. After his mother made him go to therapy when he was 8, he slowly learned to react better when he was in one. He'd still dig his nails into his palm and close his eyes, but it was better than having a panic attack.
When he started middle school, he could ride in cars easier, but he still tended to dig his nails into his palm. That was also when he met Combeferre and Enjolras. The trio clicked immediately and soon spent all of their time with each other. Courfeyrac felt comfortable around them, and he hadn't felt truly comfortable around anyone since the car accident.
Enjolras and Combeferre confided in Courfeyrac with their plans for the future. Courfeyrac didn't really understand at the time how they were going to do it, but Enjolras's eyes were always brighter when he was talking about something important and Courfeyrac liked seeing his friends happy.
By the time high school came around, Aimee was born and Courfeyrac was spending most of his time with Combeferre and Enjolras. The three were always thinking of ways to make the world better or they were simply hanging out together.
The one thing every one of Courfeyrac's classmates was excited for was driver's ed. Everyone just wanted to drive and be independent and finally be able to get out of the house. Every time someone mentioned this, he'd smile and agree with them, only to subtly dig his nails into his hand. He'd take the class, of course, but honestly, he was terrified that he'd have some sort of reaction while taking it. He shook these fears off, but he was pretty sure Combeferre knew something was off about him.
He actually did pretty well in the class. He picked up on things quickly, and only had to leave the classroom twice when they were talking about car accidents and distracted driving. He acted excited along with his classmates. "Once I get my license, I'll be able to take my sisters to the beach." "I'm totally gonna pass the test on the first try." He lied easily, and only Combeferre and Enjolras seemed to think something was off. They didn't question him after he first said nothing was wrong.
He passed his permit test on the first try. Enjolras didn't even do that. (Combeferre did, but that was beside the point). He showed off his permit to everyone he met, including his new friend Grantaire.
"Look at it!" he squealed, shoving it into R's face.
"That's really awesome Courf. I'm glad you passed," he replied, rolling his eyes and sounding rather bored. He had failed his first time, but really wasn't studying much.
"I could always help you study, R. You might need my wisdom!"
Grantaire punched him in the arm.
The first Saturday after getting his permit, Courfeyrac's dad took him to an empty church parking lot and tried to teach him to drive.
Key word being try.
"Alright, now what you want to do first is get used to pushing in the clutch all the way. You can't shift gears if you don't push the clutch in all the way. Then you w—"
"Dad. I know. I took the course," he rolled his eyes from the passenger's seat.
"Alright, then let's see you try." His dad walked around to the passenger's side and Courfeyrac hesitantly got into the front seat.
He adjusted the seat and buckled himself in before taking a deep breath. He started the car and drove about twenty feet before the memories started coming in.
"Well, I guess you'll have to stick with my mu—Shit!" Sirens. Loud voices. Pain in his head. Isaac? Where was Isaac? Tears. Concussion. Hugs. More tears.
"James? James! James, breathe!"
Courfeyrac's breathing was coming in short little gasps. His eyes were squeezed shut, his nails were breaking the skin in his palm, he was whimpering and he just wanted the memories to stop.
Funeral. Suits. Black. People crying. "I want my brother back." My fault. My fault. My fault.
His eyes opened suddenly as he felt his father's hand grip his wrist. His breathing was still quick and he couldn't stop whimpering, but he quieted and tried to focus on his dad's voice.
"James, you're okay. You have to breathe. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Breath in, breath out. You're okay."
Courfeyrac shuddered before he finally was able to breathe properly again. He had a headache and there was still a small tightness in his chest but the memories had stop and he could breathe. He shakily stood up before climbing into the back seat and curling into a ball. His father drove him, glancing at Courfeyrac every time they stopped. Courf just wanted for the memories to stop filtering in.
Later that night, he heard his parents discussing what to do.
"You didn't see him, Suzanne. He kept whispering 'my fault, my fault'. He couldn't breathe and he scared me. We have to do something. He won't be able to drive like that."
"We still have the therapist's number. We could try her… But I thought he was okay! He hasn't had a major problem since elementary school."
He could hear his mother sigh from his spot on the stairs.
"I never wanted any of this to happen… Why did it have to happen?"
"I don't know, Suzanne. I truly don't."
Courfeyrac hadn't questioned his parents the next morning when there was a jar of pills on his bedside table.
They hadn't questioned him when he said he didn't really want to drive.
Combeferre glanced at Courfeyrac where he was chattering away in the passenger's seat. He was telling a story about something Aimee had done when she was a baby and he had this really large smile on his face. Combeferre laughed with him before pulling into an empty lot.
"Uh, 'Ferre? This isn't the grocery store…" Courfeyrac trailed, a confused look in his eyes.
"No, it isn't. How do I say this? Okay, so I don't mind driving you around, I don't, but don't you think you should learn? I mean, it's been nearly six years. So I thought maybe I'd teach you," Combeferre said hopefully, motioning to the empty parking lot. "There's nobody around and it's really big, and I drive an automatic so it won't be hard to learn."
Courfeyrac's eyes widened and he pressed himself closer to the car door. "I appreciate the thought, Combeferre, but I really… I really don't want to right now, okay?" he said shakily, digging his nails into his palms.
Combeferre didn't see the anxiety in his friend's body language and shook his head. "You can't rely on everyone to drive you. It'd be a lot easier for you. You'd be able to get to school a lot quicker."
"I'll take the bus! Just, please 'Ferre, please, not now!"
Combeferre was just irritated. "Courfeyrac. C'mon. You're twenty-one. You're learning to drive," he said, opening his door and going around to open Courf's.
Courfeyrac protested loudly and Combeferre just didn't understand why he was disagreeing so much. He grumbled under his breath until Courfeyrac suddenly stopped and ran in the other direction.
"James Courfeyrac!" he shouted, sighing loudly before chasing after him.
Courfeyrac couldn't breathe. His palms were bleeding slightly and his head hurt and oh god, I'm so sorry, Isaac. It's all my fault.
Combeferre found him curled into a ball underneath a tree, crying and whimpering.
"Courfeyrac?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry."
Combeferre frowned, kneeling down and looking at his friend. He was inhaling quickly and 'Ferre didn't understand why he kept repeating those same lines.
"Courfeyrac? Hey, you're okay. Do you know where you are?"
Courfeyrac gasped. Yes, he was on the street and he was surrounded by sirens and there were people he didn't know asking him questions and he just wanted his brother and—
"Courfeyrac, you need to breathe. You're in an empty parking lot. It's me, it's Combeferre. You're okay, everything's okay."
Combeferre? Oh. Yes, Combeferre, he was a friend.
Courfeyrac opened his eyes to see his friend's concerned face.
"You're okay. You need to calm down. Breathe with me, okay? Deep breath in, deep breath out. Breathe with me." Combeferre took slow breaths, trying not to let his worry show.
Courfeyrac tried to match his breathing but his chest hurt and he needed the breaths or else he'd pass out and oh God, Isaac, where are you?
"Hey, hey, hey! Courf, it's just me. C'mon, you can do it. In and out. Just like that. There you go. You're okay, you're okay."
He let out a whimper, but managed to get his breathing to match Combeferre's.
"Good, good. Okay, I'm going to take your hand. It's bleeding a little bit. You gotta relax your fingers. Okay?"
He felt warm hands in his and he managed to stop pressing so hard into his palm, and instead gripped onto his friend's hands.
"'Ferre, it's—it's all my fault. I didn't—I didn't mean to, it just it came out of nowhere!"
Combeferre brushed a strand of hair from his friend's face. "Slow down. You're okay. I can't understand you, you need to relax. Don't talk for a few minutes. Just breathe."
Courfeyrac nodded and shut his eyes, trying to stop the memories from flowing in again. It took about ten minutes, but he eventually calmed down and was able to sit up and smile sheepishly at his friend.
"I…"
Combeferre held up his hands. "You don't have to explain now. Let's just get your groceries, yeah?"
Courfeyrac smiled gratefully before walking with him back to the car.
Courfeyrac was curled up on his couch while Combeferre was making him tea. He was grateful that Marius was out with Cosette because he didn't really want to explain to two people at the moment. He wasn't even sure Marius noticed that he never drove.
Combeferre came out a few moments later, pressing a cup into his hands and sitting next to him. He gave Courfeyrac a few moments to think before he spoke. "So, what happened today? I've never seen you react like that before…"
Courfeyrac sighed softly and sipped at his tea.
"Did I ever tell you I had an older brother?"
A/N So there's your daily allowance of angst. Some lovely Courfeyrac/Combeferre friendship (could be read as pre-romance if you want, although I just wrote it as an awesome friendship) and some background on Courf's family. Thanks goes to Tumblr/ao3 writer goldfishtobleroneandamitie for her help on names for Courf's family!
I hope you guys liked it and I also hope you don't hate me for writing this.
