This will be the last Enjolras centric chapter for a few chapters I promise; onto Joly/Musichetta/Bossuet for the next few. I considered Courfeyrac to probably be in the worst state, so it made the most sense to focus on him first.
Just as Enjolras begins to calm down, Bahorel's head pops through the hospital curtain. He smiles half-heartedly, whispering to Cosette that Marius would like to speak to her. She nods, quickly asking him if he's okay to which he replies with a hesitant nod.
"Courfeyrac's parents just arrived," Bahorel sighs. "They were asking for you."
"I... Grantaire will be alone though," he mumbles quietly.
"I'll sit here with him. And Combeferre's parents are on their way; I um..."
"Thank you," he smiles gently, patting Bahorel on the shoulder as he wanders out.
It takes him a minute to prepare himself before he enters Courfeyrac's room; he inhales deeply, his hand twitching for the door handle. It's at this moment when he realises how bad his hands are shaking, and he has to brace himself again to push open the door. He can feel the nausea rising in his oesophagus, his stomach feeling like it's been tangled into knots. Slowly, he extends his arm, his fingertips brushing gently against the wood. A step forward, and the door is open wide enough for him to see Courfeyrac lying there.
He's frozen still, barely even through the door yet. He'd been told Courfeyrac was in a comatose state, but the knowledge did nothing to prepare him for the sight of his friend looking so lifeless. Various breathing apparatuses protrude from his mouth; intravenous drips attached to his arm; his head wrapped up in blood stained bandages.
"Enjolras," he hears the gentle tone of Mr Courfeyrac, his friend's father.
He walks further into the room, his lips still pressed together in silence. He's known Courfeyrac's family almost all of his life; they'd grown up together. Courfeyrac's father isn't much like his son; he's more serious, but once you get to know him he's one of the nicest people you would ever meet. Courfeyrac's mother is a lot more like him; cheery, optimistic and unyieldingly caring.
"It looks a lot worse than it actually is," his mother smiles. "He'll be going for surgery in a moment; they've been running scans and with the kind of injury it is-I'm not too good with all these fancy medical names-as long as they operate soon, the prognosis shall be good. And the doctors have said they're going to be very loose about enforcing visiting hours for the moment, which is great."
"The doctor said... coma?" Enjolras can hardly get his words out.
"It's often the body's response to a traumatic injury such as the ones your friend has sustained," the on call nurse explains. "His brain injury is moderate, and the doctor does not think it's fully responsible for his comatose state. He should wake up within a day or so. Complications may arise once he's conscious however; aphasia, apraxia, amnesia."
"That's something we can cope with later on," Courfeyrac's mother reaches out, sensing that Enjolras looks a little anxious.
"H-have Combeferre's parents arrived yet?" he manages to whisper.
"They're on their way now," Courfeyrac's dad nods. "They'll be in the building; there's probably a lot of legal stuff to do concerning this..."
"I'm sorry about... everything that's happened," it isn't much of a consolation, but it's all Enjolras can offer at the moment.
"No," Courfeyrac's mum shakes her head, standing up to hug the man. "It's been a rough day for all of us; you've lost three people who were dear to you and several others are in hospital. And you look a wreck; are you alright, pet?"
"I wish everyone would stop treating me like this; I feel awful that people are worrying about me when Combeferre is dead, and Jehan is dead and Feuilly is dead-"
"We need you to be able to help here; and you can't do that if you're not okay,son."
Courfeyrac's operation seems to go by quickly; Enjolras isn't sure how he occupies himself while waiting. Combeferre's parents join them in the waiting room for a while; all half-hearted smiles and held back tears before they head back home to start the grieving process. He misses them; they used to be like second parents when he and Combeferre were younger, but somehow they started to drift away as Combeferre drifted apart from them too. This meeting is rushed -almost even awkward- and although most of the strange feelings could be coined to grief, things have been like this for a while with them. It's not that they're bad people; they're really nice. It's just a matter of a lack of contact resulting in a growing distance between people.
Courfeyrac's parents however, are a different story. Like himself, his family are warm and make sure to keep in contact. They were also like a second set as parents, and now he's probably even closer to them than he is with his own set. When they'd moved in to their new student flat(which Enjolras is without a doubt going to struggle to return to), they both came and helped put stuff away and move in beds, and he knows that if he needs anything at all, he can just call them.
He's less explosive now; the migraine is finally beginning to fade and he's beginning to regain control of his emotions. Calmer, he smiles whole-heartedly when the doctor tells them that Courfeyrac is beginning to display motor responses a few hours later. It's another hour before he can be considered awake, and he's struggling with his words; but he's alive, and that's all Enjolras and Courfeyrac's family could ask for.
"Happened?" is all he says, but they understand what he means.
"There was an accident," Enjolras whispers calmly. "You're alright, but it's going to take you a while to get back on your feet."
"Hurts..."
"I know, honey," his mother lulls gently. "You're drugged up on painkillers, so they'll tale the edge of the pain away."
"Ferre?"
Nobody replies. They can't break it to him just yet; he's too unstable and getting upset may just cause him to move too quickly and hurt himself. He feels strange; like he doesn't quite have control of his body. He tries desperately to speak, but words just don't seem to come. It's like their meanings claw at his throat, trying to escape but unable to climb their way onto the tip of his tongue.
And it's terrifying.