Grantaire walked up to the front door, leaning against it. "Who's there?!" He called.
"The French Revolution!" Came the response. Grantaire rolled his eyes. Ever since Enjolras had shouted that at one of their protests, it had become a customary saying among the Amis. Grantaire didn't bother to point out the large differences between the revolution, and what they were currently trying to do, not really wanting a fight.
Grantaire opened the door, quite a few people walking in. All of the rest of the Amis, minus Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta. Feuilly sat down heavily on the couch, no one seeming to notice Enjolras yet.
"I hope this is important, I missed a break in work for this." He muttered. Bahorel, who had thankfully been informed of the meeting, stood beside the couch.
"Wait, you get breaks?" He joked with a smirk, Feuilly rolling his eyes,
"Hahah, very funny." He grumbled. Had grown Enjolras been present, he would have instantly started going off about how it "wasn't" funny, and how Feuilly's employer was a demon. But he wasn't. Everyone in the group seemed to notice the silence, and Eponine, who had brought Gavroche with her, was the first to speak up,
"Where's Enjolras?" She said. Grantaire picked up Enjolras, gently rousing him. He then placed Enjolras on his lap, everyone who had not been present for the day's events giving the child a confused look.
"Who's that?" Feuilly asked, as Bahorel played around with his iPad, trying to get Skype to work, so that Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta could join. The group had barely ever held emergency meetings, and the couple of times they had, they had been very important, so everyone was quick to show up, even Marius, who was hovering awkwardly in the corner of the room.
"This… Is Enjolras." Courfeyrac introduced. Gavroche frowned,
"Enjolras has a kid? But, he would never!" He exclaimed. Courfeyrac shook his head,
"The kid is Enjolras. Enjolras is the kid." Courfeyrac attempted to explain. Everyone froze, before Bahorel shouted out,
"There's no way! You must be trying to prank us!" Grantaire shook his head vehemently,
"Julien, what's your name, and who are your best friends?" Grantaire asked, speaking every word slowly and carefully so that Enjolras would understand. Enjolras, still half out of it from sleep, yawned.
"My name is Julien Enjolwas, maman say I will say it right when I am big. My friends are Couf and Ferre'." He murmured, leaning into Grantaire. More shocked silence.
"Alright," Eponine said, breaking the silence, "Run us through what happened, will y'all?" Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Grantaire looked at each other, nodding.
"So," Combeferre began, before pausing, "Are Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta in yet?" He questioned, directing it at Bahorel.
"We're here." Came a voice from the iPad. Bahorel dropped the iPad in shock at the suddenness of the voice. Quick-thinking Gavroche thankfully caught it, passing it to Feuilly for safe-keeping. Feuilly held it up, to show Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta on the screen.
"So… What's going on?" The voice, apparently Musichetta's said. Courfeyrac gave them a quick explanation, and the three reacted in largely the same way the others had, first in disbelief, then shock, then horror, and then curiosity.
"What happened is this. Courfeyrac and I were getting to leave to go to see Courfeyrac's parents, as you all know. Enjolras was supposed to come with us, but was too busy. We were spending the last night together, and he said he felt ill. I thought it might be the beginning of a bout of stomach flu. We got him into bed early, and were gone by the time he woke up. I texted Grantaire to go check on him." Combeferre began, Grantaire nodding, and telling his part,
"I came here, and just found him like this. So, of course, I texted Combeferre, and had him and Courfeyrac come back." Courfeyrac piped in,
"Mhm! He's been largely the same since Combeferre and I came here. Just a normal three-year-old." He finished. There was a moment of silence, and Joly spoke up,
"You're… Absolutely sure it's him?" He said. Combeferre nodded,
"Positive." He answered. "Do any of you have any ideas on how this could have happened?" He asked.
"Oh, sure, each wilder as the next." Feuilly murmured.
"Well, how was he acting a few days before this?" Jehan, who was sitting on the floor's, soft voice entered the conversation.
"He wasn't acting that different at the past few meetings, I think." Bahorel recalled, shrugging, "I don't know…R, you're the resident Apollo-stalker, what do you think?" Bahorel was only half joking. Grantaire went red,
"I don't stalk him, Bahorel." He grumbled, looking down at his shoes.
"Yeah, yah kinda do." Gavroche countered. Grantaire glared at him, a glare that could almost match one of Enjolras' icy ones. Gavroche let out a squeak, shifting closer to Eponine.
"He was acting pretty much the same last meeting. Called me useless about three times, and delivered another speech on freedom or whatever," Grantaire reported, "He was wincing a bit, like his legs and arms were sore, but that was it."
"He did say his legs ached a few days ago, but I just gave him Motrin and didn't think much of it. Thought it was just from the last stunt he pulled at a protest," Combeferre reflected.
"So…" Marius said, asking the question they were all thinking, "Do you think somebody did this to him… Or it just happened?" More silence.
"Why would somebody do this to him though?! Who could possibly hate him?" Combeferre asked, in the tone a mother would use to talk about her child.
"A lot of people." Joly pointed out.
"Yes… You're right," Combeferre corrected.
"These things don't just happen. Somebody must have done it." Bossuet decided. There was a murmur of agreement across the room.
"Now the questions are who, why, and how." Courfeyrac supplied.
"Honestly!" Gavroche suddenly exclaimed after a minute or silence, as no one had answered any of the questions, "Whatever it was, it was probably given to him like poison! He doesn't have any wounds we know of."
"What're you getting at?" Courfeyrac inquired. Eponine let out a loud, exasperated sigh, putting a hand on her little brothers shoulder,
"He means someone probably slipped something into his drink." She explained, rolling her eyes, "Losers."
"While it's slightly concerning that you two suggested that, you may be onto something…" Combeferre murmured. Enjolras began squirming, and climbed out of Grantaire's lap, now awake enough to notice all of the people in the room. He looked at Combeferre, his eyes wide.
"Of course he'd be a flipping perfect three-year-old," Eponine muttered, taking in Enjolras' angelic features. With his sky blue eyes, and slightly longer than average golden hair, which curled in all of the right places, Enjolras looked about as adorable as a child his age could get.
"You should see him when he wakes up in the morning," Courfeyrac commented, "Not so angel-like then." Combeferre gave a small chuckle,
"No, his hair is more like that woman with snake hair in the mornings." He claimed.
"Medusa." Grantaire gave out. Combeferre smiled,
"Yes, Medusa." He confirmed.
"Who are they, Ferre'?" Enjolras loudly whispered, everyone hearing it. Bahorel looked like he would melt from the cuteness of the toddler, which was the exact way Grantaire felt on the inside.
"These are our friends." Combeferre responded, Enjolras walked over to Combeferre, reaching his arms out to be picked up, with trust Grantaire had never seen from Enjolras in his eyes. Combeferre gladly lifted the boy, letting Enjolras hide his face in the much larger person's chest.
"He's never been good in social situations." Combeferre explained, running his fingers through Enjolras' hair.
"Never knew you were so good with kids." Eponine observed.
"Oh, I've never really been good with kids. I'm just good with Enjolras," Combeferre explained.
"You're good with Gavroche." Eponine pointed out. Gavroche glared at her,
"I ain't a kid no more!" He exclaimed.
"10 is still a kid," Eponine replied, Gavroche crossing his arms. Before they could debate the subject further, Combeferre cut in.
"We need to figure out some sort of schedule with watching him. We cannot leave a three-year-old alone, and I do not trust anyone outside of this group with him." Combeferre announced. "And some people in this group." He muttered in afterthought.
"Should we all take shifts or something?" Jehan suggested, twisting his long hair around his fingers.
"That may not work. We all have different jobs that we have to be in at different times." Feuilly contradicted. Combeferre thought for a second, before pulling a notebook down from a bookshelf, and grabbing a pen from a cup holder, doing all of this whilst balancing Enjolras on his hip.
"Everyone, write down your typical work schedules here." He said, "We can figure out something from here. Enjolras will be staying with Courfeyrac and I, of course, but we'll need someone to look after him when we go to work. Feuilly, you can be exempt from this, if you'd like, since you have a lot of occupations, and so few time. Eponine, you can as well, since you already have kids to look after."
"M'not a kid!" Gavroche protested, Eponine affectionately ruffling his hair. Combeferre passed the notebook and pen to Bahorel first, waiting for the notebook to be passed around the room. Grantaire took this time to move closer to Combeferre, and fawn over Enjolras, who seemed to have taken a liking to him for whatever reason.
"There are lots of people, Taire'." Enjolras reported, lifting head off of Combeferre's chest, Grantaire smiling,
"Yeah, there are, and that's good. We have lots of friends." He informed.
"They are my friends?" Enjolras inquired, tilting his head sideways. Grantaire laughed,
"Yes, they are your friends." He confirmed. The rest of the Amis watched this interaction in amusement. Grantaire was finally passed the notebook, and he quickly put down,
Free at almost any time
His career as an artist gave him a lot of flexibility, which almost made up for the lack of money. What really made up for that lack was the fact that he loved doing it. He then passed the notebook, which had now gone through everyone, Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta having told their schedules to Feuilly, who still possessed Bahorels's iPad, to Combeferre, who began looking through it, most likely creating a thousand charts and graphs in his mind of the data.
Marius began talking to an annoyed Courfeyrac about his love life, and Bahorel and Feuilly began to joke around, Eponine and Gavroche joining in. Jehan simply watched his friends with amusement.
"What are we going to do about Enjolras' job?" Grantaire asked, Combeferre sighing,
"We'll just call him in sick. And if his boss gets suspicious, explain the whole situation. I've met Lamarque, he seems like a very nice man." Combeferre answered, setting Enjolras down on the ground as he continued looking through the notebook. Enjolras climbed into Grantaire's lap, apparently not keen on socializing with people he didn't already know.
"Can I take a picture of him?!" Courfeyrac begged, Combeferre looking up from the notebook,
"Why?" He asked.
"Because he's adorable! Don't you want a picture of him saved?" Courfeyrac defended.
"Nothing that would be particularly mortifying to him once we get him back to normal." Combeferre ordered. Courfeyrac just gave him a smirk, taking out his phone and snapping a few.
"Alright." Combeferre finally said, "Based on the information you've given me, Jehan will take him Monday, Bahorel for a few hours Tuesday, and Grantaire for a couple more, Grantaire alone on Wednesday, Joly and crew Thursday, Cosette Friday, since I am not entrusting a child to Marius, and Courfeyrac's always got the weekend off." Combeferre read. The group seemed mainly satisfied with their times, Eponine standing up,
"Feuilly and I can be backup, in case someone's unavailable." She offered, Feuilly giving a nod. Combeferre bobbed his head in approval.
"I can also be backup." Grantaire came in. Combeferre frowned,
"You've already got him a lot, if you want you can just-" He started, Grantaire cutting him off,
"It's fine, Combeferre. Mini-Apollo and I will be fine together." Enjolras blinked at him,
"Who is Pollo?" He asked, the question the same as the one he had asked earlier. Grantaire grinned,
"You." He replied, Enjolras wrinkling his nose,
"I am not Pollo. I am Julien." He protested, all of the Amis bursting into laughter at how much that sentence mirrored Enjolras' older self. Grantaire rolled his eyes,
"Very well, Julien," he said, tickling Enjolras' belly. Enjolras shrieked, letting out a few loud giggles. Combeferre smiled,
"Cute as the two of you are, please give me the baby, it's about time for him to get some sleep." He said. Grantaire put Enjolras down, Enjolras taking Combeferre's hand.
"He's three, Combeferre, I don't think that's baby age." Bossuet pointed out.
"He's the baby of the group now," Combeferre defended. Gavroche beamed,
"Ey', that means I'm no longer the baby!" He exclaimed. Eponine rolled her eyes,
"Temporarily," She corrected him. Gavroche scowled at her, but his eyes were sparking with laughter and contentedness, something that looked particularly good in his eyes, of which had been devoid of a safe and stable life for so long.
"Alright, gang, I think it's about time to clear out," Feuilly said, "Enjolras needs his rest, and he's not going to get any with us all being loud here." Bahorel nodded in agreement.
"Bye y'all." Eponine said, taking Gavroche's hand and walking out. Bahorel, Jehan, Marius, and Feuilly were quick to follow them, Grantaire turned to leave with them, and Enjolras let out a loud shriek. Grantaire whipped around, giving Combeferre, who was holding Enjolras' hand still, and Courfeyrac, who was flopped out on the couch, an alarmed look.
"No yelling. Use your words, Julien." Combeferre coaxed. Enjolras frowned,
"Do not go, Taire'!" He begged. Grantaire stood frozen, torn between the feeling he was intruding on the Triumvirate's space, and the overwhelming urge to stay with Enjolras.
"You can stay here, Grantaire," Combeferre reassured him, "It's fine." Grantaire let out a sigh of relief, walking over to Enjolras, and cupping his cheek.
"Was he always this clingy?" Grantaire asked, Courfeyrac giving a laugh from the couch.
"He still is this clingy," He sniggered, Combeferre shooting him a glare,
"Enough teasing our friend." He reprimanded. He paused for a second, "I suppose we'll have to take a shopping trip tomorrow, in order to buy everything Enj will need. The old clothes from Gavroche will have to do for now." He observed, lifting Enjolras up. He carried him into his bedroom, Courfeyrac getting up from the couch and following him in. Grantaire stayed in the living room, really not wanting to intrude on that. The remaining two thirds of the Triumvirate exited the room a second later, both sitting down on the couch.
"So… My best friend is a three-year-old." Combeferre murmured, Courfeyrac shifting on the couch, and laying his head across Combeferre's shoulder. Combeferre gave a hint of a smile at the touch, and leaned back, closing his eyes, while stroking his hand through Courfeyrac's hair. Grantaire stood awkwardly in the center of the room.
"So, uh, Grantaire, how's your art going?" Courfeyrac asked, Combeferre standing up and going into the kitchen.
"Pretty good." Grantaire reported, "I've been working on a large painting for a while now."
"Is it another large depiction of Enjolras?" Courfeyrac joked, Grantaire going red.
"Courfeyrac, stop teasing him," Combeferre chided from the kitchen, coming back out with three bowls of salad and three forks. He passed one to each Courfeyrac and Grantaire.
"I figured none of us have eaten much today," Combeferre explained, "And I needed to use the tomatoes and carrots, so I put this together real quick." Courfeyrac gave a nod of thanks, and Grantaire a mumble of one. They slowly ate their salad in silence, the opening of Enjolras' door startling them. Enjolras peeked his head out from behind it, his French flag blanket wrapped around him. Combeferre instantly abandoned his salad, which was only half finished, making his way over to Enjolras.
"Why are you still up, buddy?" He inquired, taking Enjolras tiny hands into his own. Enjolras blinked, wiping at his eyes with a hand,
"I cannot sleep, the room is dark and I am alone." Enjolras articulated. Combeferre smiled, taking Enjolras' hand and leading him fully into the living room.
"You can sleep with me," He instantly offered, Courfeyrac rolling his eyes, "You're going to establish a habit, Ferre." He warned, Combeferre raising an eyebrow,
"You going to come with us?" Courfeyrac nodded,
"Heck yeah, just like the old days." He exclaimed. Grantaire frowned,
"What old days?" he asked. Courfeyrac smirked, his eyes full of reminiscence.
"Mm, back when we were young, and we would stay at hotels with Combeferre's parents when we went on trips with them, we would all sleep in the same bed, and we would do it other times to, when one of us was sick, or having a particularly rough time." Courfeyrac recalled. Grantaire smiled,
"That sounds nice, I never got to sleep in the same bed as Eponine, since she's a boy and I'm a girl, and apparently people have a problem with that." He said. Eponine had been Grantaire's best friend since middle school, and she had been there every step of the way since.
"But… You're gay." Courfeyrac pointed out. Grantaire shrugged,
"Stupid gender sterotype stuff I guess," He replied. Combeferre gave a sympathetic nod, leading Enjolras into his bedroom, Courfeyrac following behind him, the usual bounce in his step dragged down by the exhaustion of the day. Grantaire followed them in, to say a small goodnight to Enjolras, then quickly left. He heard a small murmur from the room.
"Courfeyrac and I love you very much." He briefly wondered if there had ever been a friendship as close as these three were. He stretched out across the couch, where he'd be sleeping. Maybe they all had this situation handled after all. He then closed his eyes, despite the early time, waiting for the next day to come.
Oh, this is cross-posted on AO3, which has a much more active fandom. And I am not the author of Les Mis.