Notes: I have been sitting on this chapter for the last couple days...let me know what you think...
The two week rest period went too quickly for Enjolras. Just as he started to feel like his old self both in mind and body, it was time to begin chemo again. As the dreaded day grew closer, Enjolras could feel his spirit begin to sink slightly. Unlike before, where Enjolras hadn't any preconceived notions about the horrors of chemotherapy, this time he knew exactly what he was facing. Prior to this first round, despite Dr. Jernetts warning of the side effects, Enjolras was convinced he'd still live his life normally. He was certain he'd still attend and perform well in his classes, run Les Amis meetings, plan rallies, and never really have to think about cancer. However, this naivety became questionable by the second treatment, and completely squashed by the third. He knew now he faced weeks of nausea, dizziness, and extreme exhaustion and fatigue.
"We should pick something fun to do the night before you have to start chemo." Combeferre suggested over breakfast, two days before the Dreaded Day.
"Wait, what?" Enjolras asked a little taken back.
"We should do something fun before you begin your chemo again." Combeferre passed Enjolras sugar for his coffee.
"Like what?" Enjolras asked, it dawning on him Combeferre was trying hard not to be overbearing.
"Well, nothing too crazy. Maybe we can have everyone over or something."
"Sure." Enjolras shrugged, sipping his coffee and succeeding in burning his tongue in the process, "Sounds good to me."
"Great." Combeferre smiled, "I'll talk to everyone today."
Enjolras smiled back, knowing more than likely Combeferre had already preplanned this "gathering."
Sure enough, the next night everyone showed up at Combeferre's and Enjolras's apartment. Most brought small gifts with them.
Marius and Cosette arrived with a new hat in tow (the same style but grey this time instead of black) and a bunch of baked goods.
"I tried to make them somewhat bland." Cosette cautioned, after kissing Enjolras lightly on the cheek, "I figured they might help settle your stomach."
Enjolras had thanked her, feeling his ears turning red, hating that it was now common knowledge how sick the chemo made him.
Joly came with a box filled with herbs, swearing up and down they were to help with pain and nausea.
"You should brew it tea." He said, "Use about a half a teaspoon for each cup. It's strong, but it should help you tolerate the chemo a little better."
Jehan brought a book of poems.
"I marked my favorites." He said, handing Enjolras the worn read book, "Since I won't be there tomorrow, maybe you can read over them yourself."
Courfeyrac, who had insisted on taking Enjolras to his appointment, showed up with a handful of flowers, which Enjolras thought he recognized from the neighbors porch.
"I wanted to symbolize your beauty in my life." Courfeyrac both grinned and winked at Enjolras, "Don't mind the dirt."
"Are those from—" Combeferre began, but was cut off by Courfeyrac who dug into the bunch of baked goods, making a face.
"No offense, Cosette." He said, chewing as though it pained him, "But those practically have no taste."
Grantaire quite predictably brought nothing, but himself. He barely exchanged any words with Enjolras-besides telling him he'd drop off his reading assignments-and sat down next to Joly, looking uncomfortable.
"So," Combeferre said, once everyone was seated and eating some of the food he'd put out, "As you know, I gathered everyone here to wish Enjolras luck into going into his second round of chemo."
"Oh, he's who the party is for?" Courfeyrac asked, pointing at Enjolras, causing everyone to laugh.
"The purpose of tonight," Combeferre continued, completely ignoring Courfeyrac, "Is to enjoy one another's company, eat and drink lots, and make it a night to remember."
"Here, here" Courfeyrac said, taking his glass of wine and banging it into Combeferre's. Once again everyone laughed. Combeferre just shook his head, and then everyone did as he had asked. They enjoyed just spending time together, ate and drank till they thought they'd burst, and did their best to make Enjolras as well as themselves forget what tomorrow held.
"It kind of sucks he has to go through another round of that shit." Grantaire said to Courfeyrac as they stopped at a local bar for a drink later that night.
"Tell me about it." Courfeyrac replied, "I can't stand to see him so sick."
"Is this round going to be as bad as the first?" The image of Enjolras, shivering uncontrollably in Combeferre's arms, flashed in Grantaire's mind
"I think so." Courfeyrac sighed.
Grantaire shook his head, as he remembered the first time he'd met Enjolras. The two had collided (literally) during freshman orientation. Grantaire had been rushing to grab his books before the school store closed and Enjolras had been walking backward, talking a mile a minute to Combeferre and Courfeyrac (Grantaire still didn't what about, but now guessed it had to do with saving some sort of chastised group) when the two slammed into one another. Grantaire, who had been running with his head slightly down looked up just enough to crash with Enjolras's backside. He tripped over Enjolras, who in turn fell. The two tumbled into the grass, and sat up, Grantaire angry and Enjolras startled, and looked at one another.
"You should really watch where you're going." Grantaire had snapped. He couldn't help but immediately notice the beauty of the young man he'd just run into.
"Me?" Enjolras gasped, "You slammed into me!"
"How would you know? You were walking backward." Grantaire pointed out.
"Hey," Combeferre said in reasoning tone, adjusting his glasses, "It was an accident. No one's hurt, so how about we just move on, huh?"
"I guess this is what they refer to as a crash course." Courfeyrac joked, pulling Enjolras up, before extending his hand towards Grantaire, who shook off his help and stood up on his own.
The two then strangers glared at one another before they both turned and walked in opposite directions.
As it turned out, fate wouldn't allow them to be strangers for long. They ended up being in a lot of the same classes. The first term in their "Inquiry" class, they were assigned to do a project together and ended up fighting so much they both nearly failed the course. It wasn't until Combeferre stepped in after a heated argument at the apartment, and told them both they were both being stubborn and idiotic, did they finally come up with a compromise. Oddly Grantaire somewhat came to enjoy the relationship he developed with Enjolras throughout that first semester. As much as he was annoyed by Enjolras, he also greatly captivated by him. There was something about him that drew Grantaire's interests. More than he was willing to admit to anyone.
The heated arguments didn't cease when they began running in the same circle of friends (Courfeyrac had made friends with Joly who was Grantaire's roommate). Somehow, no matter how hard Grantaire tried, Enjolras always managed to get in the last word, swaying everyone to his side. As a result Grantaire had spent much time dreaming of wiping the smug smile of victory off of Enjolras's face. However, now that he'd seen Enjolras wear the look of complete defeat, he never wanted to see it again.
"I am afraid I'm not going to say or do the right things tomorrow." Courfeyrac continued swirling the whiskey around in his glass.
"You're one of his closest friends." Grantaire responded, "I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Yeah…but comfort is more Combeferre's strong suits." Courfeyrac shrugged, "I'm more the "fix-it" type of guy. It drives me crazy I can't fix this. He doesn't deserve it."
"No one who has cancer deserves it." Grantaire said a little harsher than he intended.
"No, you're right." Courfeyrac said tensely, "But Enjolras has had enough to deal with in his life. Cancer shouldn't have been added to the list."
"What could the Golden Boy really have had to deal with?" Grantaire couldn't resist asking, "I mean, I doubt he ever had so much as a blemish."
"You'd be surprised." Courfeyrac responded rather coldly, "Believe me. Things haven't always been as you think."
"What things?" Grantaire asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "What did he get stood up at the kindergarten dance?"
"Let's just drop it." Courfeyrac paused wearily, "I've already said too much. Besides, I should really head home. I have to be ready for tomorrow."
"Okay." Grantaire said somewhat bewildered, watching as Courfeyrac hastily paid his tab and gulped down the rest of his drink, "Well, good luck tomorrow."
As Grantaire lay in bed that night, woozy off of the amount of alcohol he'd just consumed, he couldn't stop relieving his conversation with Courfeyrac. The hint of Enjolras's life being less than picture-perfect was a foreign concept. After all, how could someone, who was so seemingly perfect, be anything but?