A/N Oh, the joys of college holidays. So much time to write! This is sort of a filler chapter that sets up some future plot points. And there is a massive twist at the end, so enjoy! R and R and thanks to all you wonderful people who have followed and favourited!

Oh, just wanted to plug a story here, not one of my own, but The World About to Dawn's Enjolras/OC fiction, Behind the Red Flag. It's brilliant and definitely deserves more coverage than its getting!

Anyway, on with my story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Can't be bothered. Not him.

Chapter Fifteen

With their faith in each other and the cause restored once more, the evening soon descended into far more light-hearted matters, and, for once, Enjolras did not protest. He sat comfortably at his usual table, a rarely seen smile gracing his features, feeling secure in the knowledge that despite their love of horseplay, wine, and bad puns his friends believed in him and, therefore, synonymously believed in the cause. By chance his gaze fell on Courfeyrac and Aimee sat beside one another at the table and once again he felt the stirrings of a strange emotion, the same reaction as when Aimee greeted the dandy so enthusiastically. As Courfeyrac tugged playfully on a strand of Aimee's hair, Enjolras felt an angry burst of heat flare deep in his gut, wishing he was the one to be making her smile like that.

"Jealousy does not suit your complexion, my friend." Combeferre's tone was wry and a small smirk hovered on his usually gentle features as he seated himself beside the speechless and somewhat flustered blonde.

"I am not jealous!" he eventually sputtered out, a far cry from his usual eloquence. "Why on earth would I be jealous?"

"Mmmhmm," Combeferre hummed, raising an eyebrow sceptically before abruptly changing the subject. "Those cuts on her hand look rather severe. What happened?"

Enjolras paused for a moment, uncertain as to how he should answer. He was uncomfortable about lying to any of his friends, Combeferre especially, but he was fairly certain that Aimee would be reluctant for the details of her… episode… to be public knowledge throughout the group. "She…er…she fell…and landed on some glass." He looked guiltily away from Combeferre's searching eyes, just in time to see Courfeyrac pull a laughing Aimee away from the main group and into a shadowed back corner. 'What are they doing?' he thought to himself, his mind jumping to far too many conclusions. Combeferre was quick to draw his attention back however, his words causing Enjolras to freeze.

"Well, that's very odd," the young doctor said slowly, "because Aimee told me that she got them by breaking a glass while doing the washing up."

With a sigh, Enjolras turned back to face his closest friend. Reluctantly, he met Combeferre's eyes, shamefaced for being the cause of the confusion and hurt showing there clearly. "We both lied," he admitted heavily, "it wasn't a glass, it was… it was a razor; my razor to be exact."

Combeferre's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What was she doing with your razor?"

"She had some kind of… crisis the night everyone left for the holidays and she somehow managed to convince herself that we had all left her, that we were never coming back, and that she was utterly alone." His expression darkened as he remembered how completely broken she had appeared slumped on the floor of his room. "I don't actually know how aware she was, almost as if she was still half asleep and stuck in whatever nightmare she had been having, but awake at the same time."

"It sounds somewhat like she was having a minor panic attack whilst also sleepwalking." Combeferre cast a glance over to the corner in which Aimee and Courfeyrac where still ensconced, obviously deep in discussion for their foreheads were nearly touching. "It was probably due to the physical injury she sustained to her head or possibly a deeper, hidden emotional trauma which none of us completely understands."

"She went to my room, desperate for any kind of human contact, and completely panicked when I wasn't there. I was in the kitchen, studying," he explained for Combeferre's benefit, "and she cut herself with my razor, down two or more of her fingers." He frowned at the dark memory. "Afterwards she was muttering something about 'proving she was 'real' and that 'ghosts didn't bleed'." He shook his head before admitting, "I have never been so terrified in my life as when I realized that she could have bled herself to death less than ten paces behind me and I would never have known." He shuddered at the thought.

"So it only happened the once?"

Enjolras nodded. "She seemed much better afterwards, but that was probably because I didn't dare let her out of my sight."

"Yes, you do seem rather taken with her." Combeferre's eyes danced with laughter behind his spectacles as he watched his friend turn an unflattering shade of red.

"She is a friend, a very good friend. To us all," he stressed. "I just happened to be the one who was there." He decided to refrain from mentioning about the hours of teasing banter they had shared, the viciously competitive games of chess, and heartfelt confessions on both their parts.

Combeferre simply tilted his chair back onto two legs Bahorel style and took a drink from the cup he was holding. "Mmmhmm."

Aimee smiled good naturedly as Courfeyrac played with a strand of her hair and dozily allowed herself to tune out of the conversation; the boys were all making witty puns that she couldn't even begin to understand. As casually as possible she glanced across to where Enjolras was sitting with Combeferre, the two of them clearly discussing something of importance. She was attempting to read into Enjolras abashed expression compared with Combeferre's teasing one, but turned away as she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Courfeyrac murmured quietly, his voice unheard by any of the others thanks to Joly's nearly hysterical ramblings about the splinter in his palm that he was certain was going septic.

"Need some 'alone time', you two?" Bahorel suggested with a smirk.

Aimee only laughed in response and followed Courfeyrac to one of the quieter, albeit less well lit, corners of the room. After they sat down, Courfeyrac rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable about something. This concerned Aimee somewhat for her best friend was rarely short of words and to see him so downhearted was worrying to say the least.

"How was your family?" she asked brightly, trying to dispel his melancholy mood. No doubt he would launch into an amusing anecdote to make her laugh and he would forget to ask her about her hand and her relationship with Enjolras.

"Let's just say I had better work out my differences with law clerking," he said with false cheer, "as my allowance is, well, significantly less than it was." He sighed, "'Significantly less' meaning 'nothing'."

Aimee leaned in close enough for their foreheads to nearly touch, trying to convey her sympathy through that simple gesture. "What happened?"

"I refused to marry some girl that my parents had chosen for me and got into the worst argument of my life with my father over my political beliefs." He grinned, but the emotion did not quite reach his eyes. "Maybe I should have taken you with me; I could have passed you off as my fiancé and saved myself a whole mass of drama."

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm quite glad I didn't go with you actually, I was an emotional mess," she admitted, "and before you start, yes, staying with Enjolras actually did help a lot."

"Are you going to tell me what actually happened over the holidays?"

"Don't change the subject," she reprimanded, "I'm not the one who just got their allowance cut off." She kissed his forehead gently. "You give so much kindness and care to people, Jerome. It's about time you received a little in return."

He smoothed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone with a sigh and a glimmer of a smile. "Let's just enjoy tonight, shall we? I have plenty of time to talk and worry it over some other day."

Moving apart somewhat, leaning easily back in their chairs, they sat in easy silence for a minute until his next question which made Aimee choke on a mouthful of wine. "So when did you become attracted to Enjolras?"

When she had finally managed to get her breathing back under control, her response was much like Enjolras' had been when faced with the same topic. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Denial!" he replied in a sing song voice, his face split into a huge grin.

She glared at him.

"Oh, someone's been taking lessons from Enjolras…or is it Julien now?" he teased mercilessly, all while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

At that comment, Aimee felt herself go the colour of Enjolras' favourite red waistcoat. She thumped her friend on the arm, stood, and flounced over to the table that Combeferre and Enjolras were currently occupying, stoically ignoring his raucous laughter. As she sat down, she noticed that the medical student threw her another of his piercing looks, this one clearly tempered with pity. That could only mean one thing.

"You told him!" she hissed, rounding on Enjolras, keeping her voice low so as not to attract any more attention.

"I thought he should know!" he hissed back. "And what if it happens again, hm? Shouldn't he have some kind of information about it?"

She fell silent at that and looked down to where her hands were tangled in her lap, unconsciously tracing the healing cuts, completely missing the apologetic and protective look Enjolras gave her.

Combeferre cleared his throat awkwardly as the silence became heavy. "So, how was your holiday season?"

Aimee brightened a little and flashed Enjolras a dangerous smirk. "We got snowed in and I soundly beat Julien at chess."

"It was twice!" he shot back, not appreciating the questioning look that Combeferre gave him when Aimee used his first name.

"Yes, two championships. Anyway, I managed to drag Enjolras out on New Year's Eve for a bit of fun." She flushed a little as she remembered their rather…intimate…moment.

"Did you make any resolutions? The only one I made was to appreciate my friends more and I think after tonight that shouldn't be too hard." Combeferre gazed fondly over at the bickering group of young men who were now playing cards and gave a small smile as Jehan offered to share his cards with Eponine, Ophelia as normal hung around his neck.

Aimee visibly straightened as she remembered what she had resolved to try and do. "I want to try and find out of bit about my past," she said, "maybe…try and make some sense of my dreams, which are now a lot less frequent by the way." She gave a helpless gesture. "I just have no idea where to start."

"The library," Courfeyrac said confidently, dropping easily into the chair beside her. "They keep copies of every newspaper from every day as research material. As your memories are quite…violent," he treaded carefully as he saw her flinch, "it is likely that it was reported upon in a newspaper. It's worth a shot." He shrugged. "I can take you next week if you like."

Aimee gladly took him up on his offer and the talk at the table returned once again to more general matters. Only a few minutes later, and much to everyone's' surprise, the door swung open and Marius entered the room at almost a swagger. He appeared to be different somehow and Aimee frowned slightly as she studied the young man, trying to discern what the change was.

He stood tall and straight instead of slightly hunched as was his usual stance and a slight smile hovered over his lips. A dreamy, preoccupied look was on his features and he was happier than Aimee had ever seen him.

"The visit with his grandfather must have gone well," she muttered to Courfeyrac who nodded in bewildered agreement.

"Marius, you're late." Enjolras' tone was as icy as the wind rattling the shutters and Aimee involuntarily cringed in sympathy for the lecture Marius was undoubtedly about to receive. Surprisingly, however, Enjolras said no more and simply ignored the younger man, choosing instead to return to talking with Combeferre.

"What's wrong today?" Aimee heard Joly ask and, accompanied by Courfeyrac, she made her way over to their table to hear the conversation better.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost," Courfeyrac commented, pulling up a chair for his ex-roommate.

"Some wine and say what's going on!" Grantaire offered, handing the chilled young man a full glass.

"A ghost you say, a ghost maybe. For so long she has been like a ghost to me, one minute here and then she would be gone," Marius mused cryptically. Aimee noticed how Eponine seemed to turn in on herself, as if unable to listen to the conversation but also unwilling to leave.

"I am agog! I am aghast!" Grantaire bellowed to the room. "Is Marius in love again? At last? I haven't heard you 'oooh' and 'ahhh' over anyone since that mystery girl of yours back in 32'. Have you finally found a replacement?"

"I'm getting a really bad sense of dèja vu," Courfeyrac mumbled from next to her.

Marius laughed, a happy gleam in his eye. "Not replaced, no. I've found her again." He beamed at them all, completely missing the agonized look on Eponine's face. "I've found Cosette!"

A/N Do you like the twist? Hate it? *hides from Marius/Eponine shippers* I'll explain in the next chapter (hopefully) or if not, at least in the near future. I'm hoping to start ramping up the suspense and romantic tension now, heading as we do towards the barricades. Yes! There are going to be barricades!

Until next time, mes amis!

Libz x