12/6/13

Thanks again for the support I have received. I really do appreciate this!

EmmaLaird – Thanks, that bit is where I got my inspiration!

TotaltotheMax – Happy Barricade Day … slightly late. Thanks and I hope you like this chapter!

Chapter 5

It had been a week and everything seemed to be progressing nicely. Combeferre's wounds were sealing and Enjolras had finally managed to reassure Combeferre that if he left then Combeferre would still be safe. It was a major breakthrough in returning his past mental state. But not everything was well. He still refused to be left alone in a room and only Enjolras and Grantaire were allowed to touch him. Joly was an exception, he was allowed to treat Combeferre but only if one of the other two were in contact. It was all much better than expected despite all the problems. Until Enjolras woke up one morning to find Combeferre had disappeared. He was swept up in an instant frenzy. Panic flooded his mind and coursed through his veins in a tsunami of emotions. Grantaire was asleep by the door with his fingers twitching restlessly. "Ferre? Lucien?" Enjolras shouted, jumping up; also waking Grantaire, who proceeded to fall off his chair with an almighty crash.

"Where is he?" Grantaire asked in a slightly drunken haze.

"How am I supposed to know winecask!" Enjolras shouted in anger; not at Grantaire, at himself. It just came out at the drunkard. Grantire fell silent and Enjolras instantly regretted his words.

Enjolras opened his mouth to apologise but Grantaire shook his head. "Let's just find him," Grantaire replied with a glare at Enjolras. Enjolras nodded with a sigh and checked all the small rooms and alcoves off his apartment. Grantaire opened the door and darted to see if Combeferre had gone that way. Enjolras pushed open the door into the washroom and let out a deep sigh of relief when he saw Combeferre stood there. He was stood still as a stone statue; he was hardly blinking. The only movement was the slow rise and fall of his chest. Enjolras stepped in slowly as Combeferre slowly lifted his hand. His trembling finger ran slowly up and down his healing scars that would forever mar his body. Enjolras felt tears gather in his eyes as he saw his brother so broken. But yet even scarred and mentally fractured, Combeferre looked so strong. He was stood perfectly straight and his face was emotionless as if he was in indifference.

Enjolras stepped closer as a tear ran slowly down his cheek. He hated to see Combeferre this way. He just hated it. Combeferre had always been the strong one; he was the one who, no matter what, would be there with words of advice and a strong shoulder for you to lean on. Enjolras needed his guide, his right hand man, his older brother. He was shocked into silence when a shaking thumb brushed the tear off his cheek. Enjolras stood there gawping as Combeferre ran his finger down the track that the solitary tear left. Combeferre just stood with his thumb resting on Enjolras' cheek. Enjolras didn't want to move for fear if ruining this progress with the older man. However he began to smile slightly at the long desired understanding since this all happened. "I won't cry Ferre," he reassured the other man and pressed Combeferre's hand to his cheek. Enjolras took a deep breath as he removed his hand from on top of Ferre's. "And Ferre shouldn't cry either," he added softly and brushed the tear, that was lingering on Combeferre's cheek, away with a smooth motion.

Combeferre leant on Enjolras' shoulder and Enjolras slowly entwined his fingers with Combeferre's.

They stood there, perfectly still; relishing in the moment before Grantaire pushed the front door open. Combeferre jumped away from Enjolras at the noise with fear spreading across his features. His glasses slid down his nose but his hand still clutched onto Enjolras'. "Pollo, I can't find him!" Grantaire shouted as he walked into the flat. The bathroom door swung open and Grantaire spotted them in their moment together. He nodded to Enjolras before returning to his sentry position. Enjolras tenderly pushed Combeferre's glasses back up his nose and nodded towards the bed. Combeferre nodded almost unnoticeably and Enjolras took all of Combeferre's weight as they walked.

Once Combeferre was laid back under his blankets and his glasses were safely off his nose, Enjolras sat next to Grantaire. He waked as Combeferre drifted back to sleep before speaking. "I'm grateful Taire," he mumbled. Enjolras hated to admit it; but the cynical drunkard, who he had always despaired with, had been his rock during these troubled times. He had always thought Grantaore unable to do anything if worth; but here he was. The man who claimed to hate the world had saved the revolution, saved Combeferre, and in itself he had saved Enjolras in the process. And that he would never forget. Enjolras never forgot things like this; Grantaire had earns respect in the blonde haired revolutionary's eyes. Enjolras turned to face him as Grantaire continued to watch his self-appointed charge.

Contrary to what Enjolras had thought, Grantaire looked worse than Combeferre did at that time. And it was worrying that the strong one looked like he could keel over at any moment. His stubble had grown unruly and looked unkempt compared to the shortness he permanently kept it at. His face was hollowed out and his pupils grew. Light shimmered from the faint sheen of sweat that coated his porcelain features. If Enjolras hadn't been looking so closely he would have missed the slight shivering and twitching of Grantaire's muscles and the difficultly he had swallowing. "Grantaire? What's wrong?" Enjolras asked cautiously.
"I'm fine!" Grantaire snapped, completely out of character; this just made Enjolras more concerned.

"No you are not! Tell me," he demanded as Grantaire looked weak and began to struggle breathing. He lifted up his shirt to show Enjolras his chest.

A raging gasp tore open his stomach about ten centimetres long but the red inflamed skin spread across his waist. "Poisoned blade," Grantaire mumbled as his strength began to falter. Grantaire only found out that he had been stabbed when the adrenaline had worn off. Adrenaline covered any pain; but when you hit the low, the pain bit back. But Combeferre was more important right now; he would live. "I'm going to get Joly!" Enjolras stated as he stood up, ignoring Grantaire's protests. "You need medical help!" he shouted when Grantaire grabbed his arm. Enjolras darted out the door and as soon as it shut, Grantaire let the façade fall and collapsed onto the floor.

XXX

Enjolras returned with Joly in tow about ten minutes later, fearful that something would have happened while he was gone. Something had happened while he was gone, but he never would have guessed. Enjolras thumped the door open and looked around the room. Grantaire was laid, almost unconscious and very delirious, in the bed that Combeferre previously occupied. What was more shocking was that Combeferre sat at his bedside coaxing the man into drinking from a cup. It looked as if nothing had ever happened and Combeferre was just asking as their group doctor again. He didn't look up as the two men walked in. "I need some more dandelions," he commented and Enjolras' jaw nearly hit the floor. Joly was in equal shock but snapped out of it quicker than the younger man was able to. "Vitamin K deficiency?" Joly asked setting his medical bag down. Combeferre nodded as he coaxed more of the liquid down Grantaire's throat with a little protest from the incapacitated drunkard.

"They stabbed him with a blood thinner, and Grantaire already had thin blood and his drinking doesn't help. Therefore it acted as an overdose, that mixed with the blood loss has hit him hard," Combeferre explained while Enjolras was still gawping. He would have stabbed Grantaire himself if he had known this would happen. It was a breakthrough.

"So what are you giving him?" Joly asked, seemly unfazed by this remarkable change in Combeferre's new demeanour. The man was still hunched over and unsure of himself but he had returned to his usual mother hen attitude when faced with a problem. Who thought it could be that simple.

"Dandelion tea with heaps of milk," Combeferre stated as he patiently pushed more down Grantaire's reluctant throat.

"I down't wike it," Grantaire slurred as his turned his head away from Combeferre. Combeferre sighed like he always used to.

"Would you like some cheese instead?" Combeferre asked tenderly as Grantaire pouted like a child amount to throw a tantrum. Blood loss and drugs always did this to him; it was just how anything like this made him react. Plus he always sulked when he was ill. Grantaire slowly nodded and Joly darted out of the door on a mission to find Brie and Parsley. "Can you drink a little more for me?" Combeferre encouraged. Enjolras was still stood as still as a marble statue; he just didn't know what to do or what had happened.

"No," Grantaire sulked wincing as he rolled away from the blasphemous liquid.

"Nicolas," Combeferre stated sternly moving the cup back to his mouth.

"No, I wefuse. It tastes icky!" he exclaimed but his resolve was clearly faltering as he became drowsy. Enjolras couldn't help a small smile sneaking onto his face.

Now, this did not mean Combeferre was back to normal. He was still trembling slightly and his eyes darted everywhere around him with a frenzied panic. There was still a long way to go but Grantaire throwing a tantrum certainly drew more of the real Combeferre out. Joly had returned with the cheese and parsley and Grantaire had wolfed that down with a tiny bit of the dandelion tea, much to his disgust. Soon after, the younger doctor went home, he wasn't needed there anyway and Enjolras went to clean up all the mess they had made in this frenzy. It didn't take long and he expected Combeferre to still be sat in the old wooden chair by the bed side. He really should learn not to expect things when those two were involved. He returned to find Grantaire curled up gripping onto Combeferre's arm. Combeferre lay snuggled up in the blankets next to the sleeping drunkard. He had a light sheen of sweat coating his face and neck; but it seemed Grantaire's lingering touch soothed his troubled mind and protected it from the night terrors.

Enjolras settled on the chair with his spare blanket and watched the duo. His two closest friends laying in each other's arms. In any other situation that would be highly amusing. But in this situation, it was progress.