Oops…instead of doing my papers, I've done another chapter. But there's no class tomorrow because of Election Day…I'll do them then. Who wants to graduate college anyway? That would mean I'd have to face…the real world! Eek! Anyway, here it is. Enjoy!

Feuilly walked the streets of Paris quickly, taking back alleys that he had discovered as an orphan in the streets, his head down against the wind and light snow that had begun to fall. He was soon banging on the younger medical student's door, fidgeting impatiently on the step. Finally, the door opened a crack and Joly peered out.

"Feuilly! What are you doing, my friend? Come in out of the cold!"

"I'm actually in somewhat of a hurry, Joly. I need your assistance and your knowledge."

"Oh?"

"My…friend is quite ill, and neither of us can afford a doctor," Feuilly admitted, a little ashamed, "I wondered if you would come by and do what you can."

"Of course. Just let me fetch my coat and a few other things. Do come in for a minute, while I gather them. Tell me what her symptoms are."

"Her skin is gray as ash," Feuilly said, stepping in and shutting the door, "one minute she's cold to the touch and throwing away the blankets, saying she's burning up, and the next minute she's boiling to touch and shivering under them. And she's constantly damp with sweat."

"Is this the girl that you and Grantaire made the bet about? The one you were so miserable about losing last night?" Joly said, stuffing something into a bag. Feuilly blushed.

"Yes," he admitted.

"What happened? I thought she had gone away forever."

"How do you know that?"

"You were practically shouting your story to anyone who would listen. I came outside to see if you were all right while you were retching, and you spouted more than just bile," Joly replied dryly, a half-grin twisting his mouth. Feuilly coughed, embarrassed,

"I…Courfeyrac took me in while I was drunk. I came home the next morning to find her on my doorstep, barefoot and with a torn dress. She said that she had walked a mile to get there, and had been there nearly half the night. Pontmercy betrayed her to…a terrible brute."

"I would expect no less from a Bonapartist," Joly pointed out, putting his arms into his coat and shrugging it on, "all right, let's go."

The two men hurried down the streets, Feuilly avoiding the back alleys he had used on the way there for Joly's sake. A hypochondriac, Joly probably would have collapsed from some sort of virus he had picked up from a less than savory breath of air from the questionable streets. How a man could be so worried and yet so cheerful all the time was beyond Feuilly.

As they hurried along, Feuilly elaborated on what had happened to Eponine the night before, and the events of the morning. Joly nodded and kept up a pleasant, encouraging stream of replies that soothed Feuilly a little.

They finally reached Feuilly's house, and he went first into the back room. Eponine had fallen into a fitful sleep, her face pinched with worry and her body tense.

As gently as he could, Feuilly shook Eponine's shoulder, calling her softly back to consciousness. Her eyes blinked open, and took in the two men. Her body tensed and there was a flash of fear as she took in Joly. He knelt by the bed so that his face was level with hers, and spoke,

"Good day, mademoiselle Eponine. My name is Joly, and I'm a friend of Feuilly. I'm a medical student, and he has asked me if I can help you to feel better. May I?" His cheerful, easygoing demeanor seemed to comfort Eponine, and she nodded, managing a small smile.

"I'll be here too," Feuilly said, perching by her feet. Her smile widened a bit as she looked at him, and he saw fondness in her eyes.

"Excellent," Joly said, "I'll need your wrist to take your pulse, and then I'll need to lay a hand on your forehead to get your temperature, all right?"

"All right," she said softly. Feuilly stood close by as Joly looked Eponine over, explaining everything that he was doing. Feuilly wondered at this at first, but then realized that she had probably never seen a doctor before. The medical student had her at ease and smiling, asking her about herself as he looked her over.

Finally, he asked for a glass of water, and as Eponine didn't seem to mind staying with him alone, Feuilly fetched it. Joly had a folded paper with some powder in it, and he spoke to Eponine.

"I'm going to need you to put out your tongue, and I'm going to put this on it. It will be very bitter – that's what the water is for. You can't spit it out, allright?"

She nodded and put her tongue out. Joly poured a little of the powder on it, and Eponine pulled a terrible face, grabbing for the water glass and gulping it down. Feuilly and Joly traded small smiles as she sputtered a bit.

"Oh! That was 'orrible!"

"I know," Joly said sympathetically, "and unfortunately, you're going to have to do that again twice a day until this is gone."

"Can't I just take it all at once?" she asked, still making a face. Joly laughed.

"I'm sorry, but no. It should be gone in a little less than a week, though, so you'll have to suffer until then. But it will make you feel better."

"All right," she said, taking another drink of water. Joly said goodbye and walked with Feuilly to the front room. The men shook hands.

"She'll need as much broth and tea as you can get into her, and a bit of the powder every day until it's gone. If she's up to it, you can also feed her a bit of bread soaked in tea or broth. Keep her warm and comfortable," Joly instructed.

"Thank you so much," Feuilly said, "let me at least pay you for the medicine."

"I refuse," Joly said, smiling, "it's left over from the last few times I've thought myself sick. I'm getting quite the pile of it."

"You're kind," Feuilly said, "thank you again."

"As long as you invite me to the wedding," Joly said teasingly, making Feuilly sputter.

"Wh-what?"

"Oh, Feuilly, it's terribly obvious that you're smitten with the girl. You hovered like a mother over her child while I was looking at her."

"I…I didn't want her to be frightened, that's all," Feuilly protested, making Joly laugh.

"You needn't be ashamed, my friend. We've all been making bets on when your wedding would be."

"What?"

"Of course. When you were 'apprenticing' her, you were late for meetings, and no one ever saw you, except painting on the corner with her by your side. And with a girl as pretty as Eponine, it was only a matter of time," Joly replied, so jovially that Feuilly couldn't be angry with him.

"So everyone knew that I was smitten but me?" Feuilly asked. Joly nodded.

"I can only hope Grantaire loses," Feuilly said dryly, "What month did he put his money on?"

"He's got ten francs on June. We all put in ten, and whoever guesses the right month gets the pot."

"What are the months that nobody picked?"

"Can't tell you that, my friend" Joly said cheerfully, "self interest, you know."

Feuilly laughed. It was a good feeling after the past few days. Joly joined in, and only when they heard Eponine stir in the other room did they quiet down. Joly took his leave, and Feuilly rejoined Eponine in the bedroom.

The medicine Joly had given her seemed to be working well, as she slept peacefully, her face smooth and free of worry. Her breathing was deep and even, and Feuilly felt more relaxed as he bent down to kiss her forehead tenderly. He tried to read, but began to yawn and doze in the hard chair. He rummaged around and found his last blanket and pillow, and lay on the floor next to the bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

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