Author's Note: I suggest playing 'Spot the Plot Point' but you only win the big prize if you can not only spot it but explain how it is a plot point as well.

14.

Left alone, Grantaire washes and changes his clothes slowly, almost lethargically, hindered both by his emotional and physical state. His fingers do not quite obey him, the pain in his head is distracting and he pauses more than once on the verge of wondering what the point is. However, when his automatic movements have ceased, he glances at the mirror and discovers that he is looking ridiculously presentable. Perhaps because whatever Enjolras may be in a few months or a year, he is alive now and for him Grantaire wants to try.

A part of him doesn't believe what is happening is real. Enjolras is simply not the type to get an illness like that. He is not some poet who would sit by a window and waste away prettily. At the same time, it is unthinkable to imagine the uglier side of the disease taking hold of a creature such as him. It is wrong. It should have slid away when it touched him, or turned into spring rain, just like everything ugly and dirty has always seemed to be washed and transformed when encountering his spirit…

There is a knock on the door and Grantaire grumbles some sort of invitation, expecting Suzanne with the coffee she has promised. The coffee does enter the room but it is carried by the very object of his thoughts. Enjolras leaves the tray on the bedside table and turns, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Am I intruding?"

"No…" Grantaire manages softly.

"In that case, may I remain and have a word with you?"

"Yes. Of course." He tries to make it not sound so weak and defeated. Enjolras sits on the edge of the bed and looks at him in silence for about half a minute while Grantaire is trying to find any words at all.

"I am not yet dead, Grantaire," he eventually points out with an air of slight irritation. Grantaire feels his eyes starting to sting and quickly looks away. There is a quiet exasperated sigh from Enjolras but when he speaks again his voice is friendly.

"Come, my friend. Sit with me."

Grantaire obeys silently, sitting on the bed and chancing a glance up. Enjolras looks back at him calmly.

"Why did you come all this way? I believe you are searching for something but perhaps searching for it in the wrong place."

Grantaire shakes his head and takes a deep breath. In order to have this conversation with Enjolras, he would have to distance himself from his immediate emotions and that is a challenge. But Enjolras is a rational man and he will only respond to reason.

"For a man who wants to make an impact, you are terribly bad at recognizing the impact you are making," he says finally.

Enjolras frowns a little.

"What do you mean? It is true I could certainly never see why you seemed fond of me almost to the point of… worship." The last word is spoken with obvious distaste.

"It is not as simple as that", Grantaire says, rubbing his temples. He knows the headache won't go away for a few hours more. "We need you."

"You do not need me," Enjolras says with certainty. "Neither you, nor the rest, nor the country. You have your own life. And if you don't, you can build it and I cannot build it for you. As for France and the Amis, it is not the time for a revolution at this particular moment and when the time comes, there will be enough people who can lead it."

Grantaires shakes his head again.

"No… No, Enjolras, no, it's not that. I will try to explain but I was never very good at making sense. You are…" He struggles for a metaphor that Enjolras would not roll his eyes at and suddenly smiles a little. "You are not the king. You are the republic. You are not so much important as the leader but as the connection. You are the spirit of the group as you were the soul of the people at the barricades. You brought us together. It does not matter that Feuilly may have initially joined because of your ideas, Courfeyrac because of his curiosity, Combeferre because of the bond you share and I because you fascinated me. Perhaps we were all there for different reasons but you were the link that connected us and once the link was gone… Well, we failed to stay connected. You always have your eyes on the future – that future which is above and beyond our personal destinies. Why could I never be persuaded to look that far? Perhaps for many reasons, but one of them was because, Enjolras, you dreamed of change and I wanted things to stay the same. I was happy with my friends at the back room of the café, just drinking and laughing and living our lives together. Losing that was as horrible to me as losing your bright future would be to you. I feel like I have lost the one thing that mattered to me and made me so happy. And I feel like I will not be able to find that thing anywhere else. Perhaps it was naivety but I came here hoping that if I could find you and bring you back to us, the circle would be restored. The thought that we may never sit together again and listen to you…"

He stops with tears in his eyes, his throat constricting and choking off the end of that sentence. Enjolras, who has listened with an attentive, slightly thoughtful expression, watches him for a moment. Then he reaches back and takes the still-unopened stack of letters from the bedside table.

"May I?"

Grantaire shrugs and nods, not sure why Enjolras would be interested in his latters but not caring too much. He hasn't felt like he could open them in the last two days. He would have to read all of the enquiries after their friend's health that must be written there and be reminded of the answer every time. Enjolras can read them if he wants to though. Nothing in them could be so private that he would want to hide it from him.

Having received his permission, the blond picks the top letter, opens it and reads aloud.

Dear R,

Fine mess you've gotten yourself into! And to think I never believed you when you said women chased you all the time. Must be through if this one has trotted after you half a world away. Courfeyrac spilled the whole story to me after Combeferre asked him for legal advice. I've been asking around to see if any of my contacts know anything. We may or may not have something useful so it's not worth writing to you about it yet. But now Courfeyrac is playing dumb and pretending he can't remember a simple message so that means I'll have to go and talk to Monsieur Governmnet Position personally. Really, Grantaire, you and that skirt of yours owe me a week's worth of drinks. Give my regards to Enjolras and hurry up and drag yourselves back here. I might need Enjolras to tutor me for my bar exam on account of Pontmercy being too damn annoying sometimes.

Bahorel

Grantaire can't help a smile and Enjolras raises an eyebrow.

"It would seem, Grantaire, that you have accidentally caused the reassembly of the Amis around a cause that has nothing to do with me. Perhaps the link between you is not as weakened as you fear."

Grantaire blinks.

"It is not a reassembly. And it is not the Amis, only three of them. And it is not a cause, it is…" he waves a hand vaguely. Enjolras is looking at him with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Do you think I just started reading your personal letters out of curiosity?"

"It did not occur to me to wonder…" But truly, the idea of Enjolras displaying this type of gossipy curiosity is preposterous. "Then why?"

The blond head tilts gently to the side.

"I have an idea what they are likely to contain and I want you to hear it. The same people have written to me as well – perhaps not with the same words but I imagine I have managed to infer enough about their general sentiments and the more important goings-on. The fact of the matter, Grantaire, is… You have brought them together. Maybe not with a direct action but by reaching out to them for help and by coming here to find me, you have given them a cause. It is a very different cause, I admit, and one that I had not really thought about, but you seem to believe in it. That we should stay together, hold on to our connection? It is a belief. I'd like to think you did not just come here because of some obsession with me."

"I… No, I suppose not but… Is this why you are reading this to me? To convince me we should go on without you? Because a few of us happened to come together on this occasion simply by chance?"

"By chance?" Enjolras looks at him a little sternly. "Did you send an appeal for help to an unnamed person with an unknown address? You asked Combeferre because he is your friend and a man you can depend on. The rest joined without you even asking because they cannot stand injustice, or leaving a friend in need of assistance. And you did not even ask assistance for yourself. You have a heart, Grantaire, and a man with a heart cannot be without ideals, whatever I may have said to you when you have angered me in the past. It is not me that connects you. It is your hearts. Good, strong hearts that will always find each other when they need to or when someone needs them to. Shall we see what the others have written?"

As the letters are opened one after the other, Grantaire's head almost starts spinning and he can practically hear the voices of his friends, each distinctly different and bringing a different emotion, a kaleidoscope. Jehan, as always, empathizes with the fate of the women of the streets and has offered his help. In fact, Enjolras is right – all of them have made themselves available to carry out some task should the need arise. And all of them want to know how he is doing on his mission. Apart from that, Feuilly congratulates him on making Bahorel swallow his indignation and talk to Combeferre. Marius complains about Bahorel's impatience regarding his exam and assures him that he will assist Combeferre on legal matters if a certified lawyer is needed since Courfeyrac and Bossuet have not yet received their certificates. Courfeyrac asks after Enjolras, teases him about Suzanne and, somewhat more surprisingly, informs him briefly on his son's new habits. Victor, it would appear, can wave a rattle as a formidable weapon. Joly's current obsession seems to be garlic and in his letter he beseeches Grantaire to somehow make Enjolras eat it in large quantities for his health. At this Enjolras laughs so sincerely that even Grantaire manages to offer a chuckle, albeit a little pained. If only garlic was the answer. Bossuet swears he feels like Joly is preparing to fight off vampires and laughingly shares that Musichetta has threatened to leave her betrothed and move in with him if some of the spice in question does not leave the house.

At the last letter Grantaire finds it hard to keep it together and his eyes start watering again. This one is from Combeferre.

Dear Grantaire,

I hope dearly that this letter reaches you, and that it reaches you in good health. If it does, then you probably know that I wrote to tell Enjolras about your arrival. I could not keep it secret from him and then I could not keep his address secret from the rest of us who wanted to know on what basis I had only given it to you. I seemed to manage better a few years ago when I was trying to avoid revealing any information about our society. But then again, keeping secrets from friends is much harder and I hope I am forgiven by both of you. I also hope that you are together; that you have found him, not only this letter; that the two of you have not found some reason to part. If you are together, you must have found out by now why I worry about him so much and why I hope you can bring him back with you. I would like nothing more than to be wrong in my fears, even though he himself and his American doctors seem certain in his condition. There is not much I can do over a letter so I hope I will have the chance to see you both personally, as soon as the distance and your means permit. Everyone has dropped some money with me to pay for your return since much of what you had must have gone to help your friend. I have not dared send it because I do not even know if it will reach you, but if you can just write to us to confirm where you are, it will be on its way as soon as possible. I will try to make sure it travels safe. We hope you will be all right until then.

I have used the phrase 'I hope' five times already but I do hope for a lot of things. It pains me that in my current position I can do nothing for either of you but hope. But until I can do more, I shall rest my faith on you, my friend.

Meanwhile, I will try to be of some use to Mlle Lenglen. Courfeyrac and I have been looking into her case. It isn't very easy with so little information but, to my surprise, Bahorel came to talk to me about it and it is possible he may have found us some leads. I must thank you – it was the first conversation I have had with him in a despicably long time and I'd like to think it did not end on a hostile note. We will continue to do our best and write to you if we have news. My hope is that when my next letter reaches you, you will be on your way back. Hopefully not alone.

Give my love to Enjolras, even though I have already sent it to him on paper, and remember that you have our support.

Yours,

J.M. Combeferre

When Enjolras finishes reading, there is silence for a while. Grantaire swallows a few times, gulping down tears. What he has heard has touched him in many ways, making his heart both lighter and heavier at the same time. The silence is eventually broken by Enjolras.

"I'll come back with you." He pauses. "Even if it means being fed nothing but garlic when we reach Paris."

And Grantaire has to laugh with him.

End Note: So did you spot anything? No worries if you have no idea what I'm talking about, there's probably one in a million chance you will figure out what it is with so little information. Perhaps if you're good I may give you an additional hint next chapter. But do review, please. For the boys' sake.