Okay, so this chapter is super serious, and I dunno how it even happened, but I'm sorry and not at the same time, and I did all this research into the subject matter, and that's why it took a few days. Love you guys; keep the criticism coming, please.
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. Story mine.
Eponine opens her eyes and immediately shuts them again; she is surrounded by blinding amounts of white. She blinks twice, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar environment, and hears a sigh of relief coming from her right. She tries to turn her head to see who it is, but there's something in her nose that won't let her. "Thank God, 'Ponine!" Grantaire's face swims into view; she doesn't know how it's possible for someone to look both ecstatic and furious, but trust Grantaire to be able to do it.
"Pardon the cliché, but where am I?" she croaks out. She sounds about how she feels.
"Hospital. Eponine Thérnadier, do you have any clue what you've put us through?"
"To be honest, no. What happened? I remember…we had a meeting…and I…well, I went to meet Montparnasse to…oh, God. Grantaire, what did I do?" she asks frantically, praying that it's not the answer that she thinks it is, or else she'll never forgive herself.
"You OD'd on coke. Montparnasse called me, and, by the time I got there, he was gone. 'Ponine…how long was that going on?" he asks gently.
She sighs. "A few months. It wasn't frequent…just whenever I really needed to not be Eponine for a while."
"That's bullshit. You almost died."
"Really, R, because I'm pretty sure you do the exact same thing with alcohol," she snaps, and it makes her head hurt. Grantaire sighs and glances over at the heart monitor which has sped up a little.
"I'm supposed to not be upsetting you. Good job, right? I didn't mean to be accusatory. Just…we were all really worried about you."
"Does Gavroche know?"
"Of course he knows, 'Ponine. We weren't not gonna tell him that his sister almost died."
"Fair enough," she sighs. "Has…he visited?"
Grantaire knows who she's talking about. "He came once, with everyone else," he tells her reluctantly, shaking his head when her face lights up. "'Ponine."
"I know. I'm pathetic. But it's okay, because he came to see me. He cares about me."
Grantaire shakes his head again. "Such a feminist, and yet so co-dependent."
"I thought you weren't supposed to be upsetting me," she reminds him, wincing at the pain in her head. "When do I get to leave?"
"You had to stay until you woke up, which is now, and I think they mentioned a psychological evaluation?"
She groans. "Grantaire. This is ridiculous. I'm not a coke addict."
"Aren't you?" he sounds genuinely concerned.
"No! I'm not! It happened like all of four times!"
"Okay, okay, I believe you, calm down, or else the nurses will kick me out."
"Eponine!" Jehan walks through the doorway. "You're awake!" He looks wonderful, but gaunt, his dirty blonde tresses unwashed and sloppily braided, his duck-print sweater crumpled and unwashed, his bright teal pants wrinkled. Courfeyrac walks in behind him, looking equally disheveled, with dark shadows under his eyes.
"God, you had us worried, 'Ponine." He walks up to her, squeezes her hand, and bends over to plant a kiss on her forehead, which does little to no good for her headache. "Wanna tell us what happened?"
"Montparnasse happened," Eponine answers gravely, and Jehan goes even paler, if that's possible.
Enjolras and Combeferre walk in. "Joly sends his apologies for not coming, but, and I quote, 'do you even know how many people get sick in hospitals?,' so I doubt we'll be seeing him for a few days," Combeferre explains, shaking his head in mild disbelief.
"Only three guests at a time." A large woman with red hair wearing scrubs and carrying a clipboard walks into the room, looking distastefully at all the boys. "And only family." Everyone but Grantaire walks out, grumbling about erroneous hospital rules and the lack of vending machines on this floor. "Are you family, sir?"
"He's my brother," Eponine says without thinking. The nurse looks back and forth between them, taking in Eponine's chestnut hair and Grantaire's black curls, the difference in their complexions, a complete lack of resemblance, but, to her credit, says nothing of it.
After the check-up, with Eponine reassuring the nurse that she's fine, that she feels fine, that she just wants to wear her own clothes again, Eponine leaves to talk to Dr. Schacter, the resident psychologist, and Grantaire walks out to the waiting room where Courfeyrac, Jehan, Enjolras, and Combeferre are sipping coffee and whispering quietly. "Hey, guys."
They all look up. "How is she?" Jehan asks.
Grantaire sighs and runs a hand over his beanie, straightening it. "She's putting on a brave face, but I think she scared herself even more than she scared us. She's really ashamed that Gavroche knows, and she's really afraid of what's going to happen. She doesn't wanna go to rehab for it, y'know?"
They're all silent, as they've mostly been for the past twenty-four hours. This is the first time anyone in their group has truly been close to dying, and it's terrifying, especially since it's Eponine, whom they all adore. She means something special to all of them.
"Hey, guys!" Feuilly runs up, out of breath, wearing his trademark newsboy hat, with his messenger bag slung across his torso. "What's happening? Is she okay?"
"She's awake. After this stupid psychological evaluation thing, she can go," Courfeyrac explains. Combeferre hands Feuilly a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
"Thanks, 'Ferre. God. I wanted to come over as soon as you called, but I had work and class, and I couldn't just drop it…I feel awful," Feuilly babbles slightly incoherently.
"Feuilly. Breathe."
He inhales and exhales exaggeratedly. "Thanks."
Combeferre smiles without feeling. "Don't mention it."
They sit there like that for about an hour, Grantaire dying for a cigarette, Enjolras trying to figure out whether or not he should hold Grantaire's hand, Courfeyrac about to burst from trying not to comment on the sexual tension that has sprung up seemingly overnight between his two friends, Combeferre reading an article about artificial insemination, and Feuilly tying and retying his shoelaces, a nervous habit. Finally, Eponine emerges from the back of the hospital wearing a pair of worn jeans and an old T-shirt of Courfeyrac's that she borrowed and never returned that Grantaire had brought her. "Hey."
"Hey," they all murmur.
"Good news is, no rehab," she says, trying to force a smile.
"Bad news?" Combeferre stands up.
"I mean, I OD'd on cocaine, so that's pretty much all the bad news necessary, right?"
Grantaire chuckles. "C'mere." He holds his arms open and Eponine throws her arms around him, breathing in his familiar smell of sweat, cigarettes, and Old Spice Fiji. "Love you, 'Ponine, and we're gonna be here for you always, okay?" They hold each other for a while before he finally lets her go, and as soon as he does, she's instantly pulled into a hug from Jehan.
It's now that she starts silently crying as Jehan pats her hair and whispers soothingly into her ear, "We're here for you, baby, and Montparnasse is not coming anywhere near you ever again."
When her hug with Jehan is done, Courfeyrac presses a kiss to her forehead and grips her chin to make her look up at his face. "You ever need anything, 'Ponine, I'm here. You're gonna get through this." She's no longer silent-crying now, it's become shaky sobbing, and other patients are glaring, but none of them care.
Combeferre takes her hand, squeezes it reassuringly, and kisses it, like some sort of bespectacled Prince Charming. Enjolras just looks at her, and she can read all that she needs from him in his eyes. It's a wonderful gift they have, being able to communicate through glances.
She turns to Feuilly, who she can tell is trying very hard to be manly and tough, but when she hugs him, he starts shaking. "I was so terrified that we'd lost you, 'Ponine. I didn't know what to do."
When she finally pulls away, she looks at all her boys, not failing to notice that Marius is not among them, which she tucks away for a day when she's feeling good about herself, and she tries to break the silence. "I'm starving. Does anyone want tacos?"
Feuilly grabs her hand as they walk down the stairs outside the hospital, and she leans over and kisses his cheek; he blushes, and she wonders how she never noticed that before. Maybe it would be good to be around someone who didn't encourage her excess like Montparnasse or Grantaire did. It didn't matter anyway; she was getting ahead of herself. Right now, she's just happy to be alive; however, she can't help but feel that she met a new side of herself in this process, and she's afraid of what that new side could grow to become. She most certainly is unwelcome in her life, she thinks to herself, and relays her Taco Bell order to Grantaire.