With a mood different than that of the first round, the new group settled into their roles just as quickly. The out-voted all died off soon enough, leaving those in the bunker alone once more. During one of their first nights, while all were generally relaxing and either enjoying each other's company or simply the peace and quiet, the atmosphere was still, and calm.

Cosette and Musichetta sat together away from the others, softly talking about the second lot of cuts they'd had to make from the group, and how the two boys the girl with fortune-teller eyes was closest to had lost out. It was something Cosette could sympathise with; she'd lost Marius in the first turn, and thus tried to be a comfort to her friend as she came to terms with the loss.

In terms of body shape and colouring, the two girls were at opposite ends of the spectrum, what with Cosette's fair complexion, long, sun-kissed hair of gold, and petite frame, while Musichetta lay claim to plump, strong limbs and hair as rich and dark as the earth. That, combined with skin several shades darker than Cosette's, they were certainly both beauties in their own right. The fact that Musichetta had neither of the people she loved with her was only another difference between them.

Across the room, Grantaire sat alone, a biro pen scratching out the beginnings of a portrait into the page of a recently found notebook. However, his eyes were soon drawn to the figure approaching him, though the red shirt made it easy to tell who it was before they'd spoken a word.

"What brings you over to this particular couch, if I may?"

"I'm just checking in with everyone. Making sure they're alright." Taking a seat next to the other student, Enjolras waited patiently for his answer as Grantaire pushed himself out of his slouch.

"Yeah, yeah…I'm good."

"Good."

"…What about you? Has anyone asked you how you are?"

"I'm fine."

The answer came just a little too fast, and sounded just a little too rehearsed, so Grantaire pushed a little more.

"Only…I know you lost Courf' and Combeferre this time around. That must be hard, I know you were close with both of them."

"Yes, well…my friendship with them didn't change the fact that their professions didn't help us in the long run."

"Well, 'Ferre was a lawyer; that was useful in the first round, why not the second?"

"Because in the first round, that was all we had to go on, and in the first round, a knowledge of the law would have been crucial. But now, I had to apply the same argument I did for him as I did Claquesous; he wouldn't have been the only lawyer left alive, I'm sure. And knowing LSF wasn't enough to save him. The same goes for Courfeyrac."

"That makes sense. And for that, you're probably going to get an A in this class."

Leaning back into the sofa cushions, Enjolras raised a brow at Grantaire, who by this point had gone back to his drawing.

"…But?"

"But." He said steadily, not looking up again. "I haven't seen you smile once since you've been in this bunker, this turn or the last."

"Well, according to you, that's why Marius is here."

"You didn't vote for him." Grantaire pointed out, finally glancing up at his companion. "I'm just saying; you were more at ease with Courfeyrac and Combeferre here. Maybe you should have taken that into consideration."

"You're missing the point of the exercise. The point isn't 'how many friends can you fit in the bunker', it's who should be saved in order to better the human race."

"And yet, you saved me."

"You're a farmer. Your skills-"

"My skills are unique to the group, yes – but not to the world. I won't be the only person who can plough a field. Plus, I have a criminal record of some kind – I could be dangerous. And that's just what the card said. Combeferre had two specialized skills, I only had one. So…why save me?"

Enjolras looked at him for some time before answering, choosing his words carefully. He hadn't expected Grantaire to think things through as he had done, and thus, wasn't prepared for the question.

"Would you like me to take into account your personality as well as the card?"

"Fine."

"You're argumentative, and rude at the best of times, and uncooperative. But…you're also very kind, generous, and you're loyal, amongst other things. Those are traits I value in a person. Plus, we let Montparnasse in, and genetic lotto win or not, he's a criminal. Your record is hypothetical, his isn't. It wouldn't have felt right not bringing you in."

The comment wasn't one Grantaire had been expecting at all, and his surprise must have shown on his face, because, for the first time since Musichetta had pitched her card to the group, Enjolras smiled. It was only slight, but it was enough to transform his face completely. He usually seemed so stern and focused, seeing an expression like this was one Grantaire would do his best to ingrain in his memory. Quickly thinking of something else to say, he turned his body round to face the other fully.

"That makes sense, I think…so, what about your 'extra trait'? How does it feel to suddenly be on the other side of the fence?"

Smirking this time, Enjolras accompanied it with a curious frown.

"What makes you think it didn't apply to me anyway?"

Before he could get an answer, Feuilly came into the room, quickly finding Enjolras and jogging over to him.

"Hey, sorry – can I have a word?"

"Sure."

And just like that, Grantaire was alone once more, left to draw his own conclusions about the information he'd just been given. Enjolras didn't hate him, that was good…Enjolras was more than likely gay? That was even better. These thoughts pulled his expression into a shy sort of smile, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he continued with his portrait, which, as of five seconds ago, now had a blond haired, blue eyed identity.

Just outside the doors, Feuilly spoke in a low voice as he explained a new development in their situation.

"The wildcard just told me that we need to start thinking about the whole 'reproduction' issue. He's going to bring it up at some point with the rest of the group, and told me not to tell anyone yet, but I figured it'd be something you'd want to know."

"I appreciate it, but…what's he going to suggest? Cosette isn't going to sleep with anyone but Marius, and while having another woman here is an advantage, we can't make her sleep with anyone if she doesn't want to."

The chemist just shrugged.

"I don't know. He's not going to like that, though – I agree with you one hundred percent, but to him, that's not logic."

"We can talk about it all when he brings it up, but I'm going to make myself clear right now; morality isn't the same as morality, and making either of them be with someone if they don't want it isn't moral. If he fights me on it, I'll fight him right back, and I'll win."

With a soft exhale, Feuilly just nodded, and with that, the conversation was at an end.

The subject wasn't brought up again until the next evening. The group were all in the recreation room, either reading or talking quietly amongst themselves when the wildcard came in. Enjolras caught Feuilly's eye, but gave nothing away as their teacher took a seat.

"I think we all need to talk."

Pages were bookmarked and attention drawn to him, Grantaire being the last to look up as he finished a small detail in his drawing.

"We need to start thinking of how we're going to tackle the 'reproduction' situation-"

"What's to tackle?" Musichetta interrupted, half-smirking. "I think it's pretty straightforward what goes where until what happens"

"That's not what I mean." He replied coolly, glancing to where Cosette's grip on Marius' hand has tightening little by little. "We need to work out the best program to get a pregnancy going as fast as possible."

"I guess you guys had better get on that then" Came Montparnasse's ever-helpful reply, though the colour Marius' face turned only made him chuckle even more. However, the humour wasn't shared by everyone in the room.

"I second that." Musichetta chimed in, narrowing her eyes at their teacher as she got to her feet. "I'm sure we'll have one in no time, knowing these two."

"You're dodging the point. We have six males here; to maximise the chances of conception, both you girl's need-"

"Mm, no – no, we don't need to do anything. I'm a girl, yes, but I'm not a baby factory either. The same goes for Cosette – her and Marius can do what they like, and if they have a kid, great. If I happen to develop feelings for someone here over the next year – great, we can bump uglies and spawn. But until then, I'm not sleeping with anyone-"

"Wasn't that part of your pitch?" The teacher remarked, also getting to his feet. "That you were female, and that you'd help repopulate?"

"Yes, I'm a girl – but I never said I'd do that." She snapped back, eyes alight. "I have the potential to have kids; that doesn't mean I'm going to, not until I want to anyway. That's not how it works."

By now, everyone was on their feet, the mood rapidly spiralling. Stepping closer to the wildcard, Feuilly was an even match with the older male, both in stature and certainty of being correct.

"You need to back off. We've only been in here, what? A day? The girl's will do what they want, and what happens, happens. Or we can take a vote, if you'd prefer?"

"You can vote against me all you like, it doesn't change the fact that I'm right."

Taking another step forward, the chemist maintained eye contact as he lowered his voice. "Yes it does, because you're not."

"This is rich, coming from the man who was willing to give up his place to a surgeon with Huntington's." The teacher retorted, urging Feuilly back with a light push. "You seemed all up for giving her your place simply because she was female."

His answer was accompanied with a push in return, this one more forceful than the last. Whether he meant it or not wasn't clear, but Feuilly was very strong for his age – any kind of physical situation was generally one he had the upper hand in.

"That doesn't mean I'm all for forcing girls to sleep with people they don't want to-"

"Stop it, both of you" A hand was placed on both of their chests, Marius glancing from one to the other, before eventually settling on the teacher.

"I think you should leave, Sir."

After a long pause, the older man eventually backed off, regarding them all with a look of pure condescension as he headed towards the door, stopping only once to turn back and have the last word.

"You all remember when the poet died? That was thinking with logic, and not with emotions. You're all doing the exact opposite now; this is illogical, and you all know it."

And with that, he was gone, leaving the group in the midst of a stunned silence. Hypothetical or not, the scene that had just unfolded left a bad taste in their mouths, and an uneasiness in their minds. It was a situation easy to remedy on paper, but none had actually put any thought into the fact that the reproduction had to be consensual. Or at least, it had to be if they wanted to preserve any sense of human morality after the world had come to an end.