Summary: Enjolras' mum is an alcoholic, Bossuet tries to fall down some stairs and Musichetta is everything and more.

Enjolras appreciates all that Combeferre's and Courfeyrac's families have done for him, and when he told them he was looking for his own place they had assured him that it wasn't necessary and he wasn't imposing, but he can't keep living with his friends. They are both as dedicated to their cause as he is - in some ways, even more - and would never intentionally take his attention away from it, but they both mean so much to him and when they're together it can feel like everything is right in the world because he is with his friends and they are happy. He can't afford that distraction. He needs to be alone.

It's no surprise, really, that Combeferre doesn't approve of Enjolras getting his own apartment. Without someone to remind him, Enjolras has a habit of working well past the point of what would generally be considered a safe amount. Which secretly is another reason he is looking to move out. He knows that he can push past whatever wall is telling him to stop at these times. Or perhaps it's not such a secret, judging by the disapproving looks Combeferre has been giving him ever since he announced his decision. However, it doesn't stop him from standing behind Enjolras with a hand resting on his shoulder as Enjolras rings the doorbell of his parent's house.

It's been two years since Enjolras has seen his parents in in any capacity more than fleeting glimpses in the street. Regardless of this, the landlord of the apartment he wants to rent is insisting that he have their signature on the rental agreement. If it were anyone else Enjolras would have begged them to come along to his parents house with him to stop him doing anything stupid, but it's Combeferre, and Combeferre knows what he needs without ever being asked.

-00000-

His mother opens the door. When she sees the two of them standing there, she only stares for a moment, before closing the door again. Enjolras sighs and Combeferre squeezes his shoulder quickly before Enjolras rings the bell again. "I only need you to sign a rental agreement" he says when the door opens.

His mother nods. "Alright" she says, and then adds with a sneer in Combeferre's direction "but he can't come in here."

Enjolras tries to look unconcerned by her statement, but inside he is seething. "Combeferre can come in wherever he wants" he says, and sweeps into the building without a second glance at her, or even to see if Combeferre is following. He knows he will be.

There's a wine bottle sitting on the kitchen bench and it's almost empty. Enjolras immediately wishes that he came another day, or that he had not let Combeferre come with him. His mother is not particularly pleasant at the best of times, but she was raised to be polite and charming, and habits taught from birth are hard to break. Unless her tongue has been loosened with alcohol. Enjolras has been accused as being cruel at times, but his is always an unintentional cruelty, words spoken without thought to their repercussions or the effects they will have on others; no malice, just a lack of consideration in his haste to prove his point or win an argument. Impulsive action has never been part of his mother's repertoire. She means every little thing she says, and every little piece of nastiness is chosen carefully to hurt as much as possible. Enjolras has no problems ignoring her, but he would not wish her on Combeferre now.

When he looks away from the bottle, he notices that she is glaring hatefully at Combeferre's back, and so he places himself between them and thrusts the rental agreement into her hand. His mother glances over it briefly before placing it on the counter. "I need a witness to sign this."

"Combeferre can witness."

"Combeferre can not witness." She sniffs. "I can't in good conscience allow my witness to be so untrustworthy."

"Then we will wait outside" and he wants to snarl it, but that would just mean she won, wormed her way under his skin. He knows when to pick his battles, and he really needs her to sign the agreement. He can say something later.

"You won't" his mother says, and there is a smirk playing about her lips because she knows she is getting to him. "I'm not coming out after you. You can wait in here."

Enjolras grits his teeth and sits down stiffly on the couch, Combeferre following. His mother leans against the bench. "So, Combeferre," she practically purrs, and Enjolras wants to take his friend as far away as possible. "How is university?"

Combeferre has always been too polite. "It's going well, thank you." he replies, and Enjolras can see where this is going before it happens.

"And you want to be a doctor." she muses. "I wonder, are you going to be as careless with your patients as you were with my son?"

Enjolras feels Combeferre stiffen, despite the distance between their seating positions, but to his credit he doesn't show any other reaction. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

His mother laughs the overly polite laugh she taught herself for dinner parties with old, boring men. "It's just that you led Enjolras so astray, filled his head with stories of revolution and violence and now look at him; so smart and never even finished lycée because of what you taught him. And you're at university to be a doctor. It hardly seems fair."

Combeferre looks stricken and Enjolras wants to rage at his mother, to storm out of her house with Combeferre to take him away from here, rental agreement be damned, because there was not anything worse she could have said. Enjolras knows that there is some part of Combeferre that blames himself for Enjolras being expelled, that feels guilty about getting to go to university while Enjolras attends night school and no matter how many times he tells Combeferre it wasn't his fault and that he made his own decisions, there is a part of Combeferre that hates himself a little for what he believes was his role in depriving his best friend of a normal formal education.

And he would have done it, if not for the doorbell ringing at that moment. His mother flashes them one last smile before she goes to answer. Enjolras takes Combeferre's hand in his own. "She's been drinking. You shouldn't listen to her, it's all cruel nonsense. You're going to make a great doctor, and you never did any wrong by me. You know that, right?" he asks, and Combeferre nods stiffly, but he does look slightly better.

Enjolras hears his mother laugh a genuine laugh from the entrance hall, almost flirtatious, even, and then a few seconds later Courfeyrac comes bouncing into the kitchen. Enjolras would be surprised to see him, if not for the fact that Courfeyrac always seems to manage to be just where he needs him most, like he has some sixth sense that tells him Enjolras is about to do something stupid. His mother follows and she is smiling, actually smiling, and Enjolras doesn't think he's ever seen her smile in his life. It's disconcerting, how much she looks like him.

"Would you like some coffee?" she asks, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"No thank you, ma'am" Courfeyrac beams, and Enjolras has the briefest flash of irrational dislike for his friend at that moment, though whether it's because he is inherently distrustful of people who get along with his parents or because of the easy way Courfeyrac gets on with his mother when he himself has never been able to connect with her, he can't know for sure. "I'm just here to make sure Enjolras gets back to my place safely."

"Well I'll just sign this agreement and you can take him home." His mother walks over to the paper, pen in hand. "You can witness, correct?"

Courfeyrac nods, smiles, and Enjolras' mother signs his rental agreement.

It's not until the three of them are sweeping out of the house, his mother giving one last call of goodbye to Courfeyrac, that Enjolras realises that she never looked at Combeferre again once Courfeyrac arrived. He squeezes his wrist gently in thanks, and Courfeyrac smiles softly.

-00000-

They meet Bossuet when they're moving Enjolras' stuff into his new apartment. He doesn't have a lot of things, so between the six of them that turn up at 10am, it only takes three trips from the car and up the stairs to have everything in the room. They're standing around looking at the boxes, the flatpacked bed and mattress and otherwise empty room, when Joly shuffles in without knocking (leaning heavily on his cane, leg shaking slightly and Enjolras has a momentary flash of guilt for getting an apartment in a building without an elevator) and Bossuet follows. Joly had originally planned to meet with them to help move boxes when Bossuet had texted him and said that he had just been fired from his latest job and would he like to meet up now he had some spare time. They've been dating for a few weeks now, but his schedule has never lined up with anyone else's for Bossuet to meet the rest of Les Amis. When Joly had tentatively asked if he could get him to bring along instead of helping, everyone had agreed immediately.

Bossuet is maybe four or five years older than any of the rest of them and prematurely balding, but his smiles are as easy as Joly's, and when Jehan expresses his deep regret of the loss of his job in this life of uncertainty Bossuet doesn't seem put off. Instead, he offers a rueful grin and says that the only certainty in this life is that he will lose every job he has. Jehan smiles back.

They can't stay long, however, because they won't have much time for each other over the next few days with Joly's exams coming up soon, and Enjolras is sad to see the two of them go. As they turn to leave, Bossuet trips at the top of the stairs, and for a moment it seems as if he will go tumbling down the lot of them. They all make a step towards him as if they could possibly stop him, but it is Grantaire who catches him and hugs him tight to his body just as he rounds the corner from downstairs. Grantaire had promised along with the rest to help Enjolras move his things, but unlike Joly, he had not given a reason as to why he hadn't turned up. Looking at him now, though, behind the surprise on his face for literally catching a grown man, Enjolras can see he has been drinking, and drinking heavily. It brings unpleasant memories of his mother only a few days ago, and he can't keep the look of distaste from his face.

Bossuet doesn't look shaken by his almost-fall, and it seems as if he has to struggle a little to extract himself from Grantaire's grip. Once he manages to, though, he only smiles and holds out his hand. "Bossuet. Let me buy you a drink."

Grantaire looks briefly over at the rest of them and seems about to decline, he did already promise to do something else after all, when he sees something - Enjolras can't be sure what - and suddenly he looks desperately sad. Enjolras wants to ask him what's wrong, to fix whatever may be troubling his friend, but he is only good at the latter, and only when what is wrong is something that can be fought. But it's only for a moment, and Grantaire forces a smile on his face, taking the offered hand. "Grantaire. I can't say no to that."

They walk down the stairs, shoulders brushing, and Joly only has time to send them all a confused look before hurrying off after his boyfriend and his best friend.

Enjolras is disappointed to see Grantaire go. Setting up his apartment would've been easier with his eye for detail. But he supposes that Feuilly is staying to offer his artistic eye, so Enjolras is not left completely to his own devices.

-00000-

More and more of their protests have been turning violent of late, and Enjolras has given up trying to stop it. He doesn't agree with violent protest in theory, he doesn't want anyone to get hurt or arrested, and when rallies turn violent it just adds weight to the voices of those claiming that protests only exist as a way for kids to start fights, rather than as legitimate expressions of grievances. But in practice, it's hard to deny the feeling that roars in his chest when someone throws that first punch or shouts that first obscenity. It's the knowledge that people are actually listening to him, that his words are reaching them and touching their sense of outrage and desire for change, and it's intoxicating. It makes him want to speak more, to shout louder, and once the crowd is chanting with him, it's impossible to stop.

He only wishes that Joly and Bossuet didn't decide to bring Musichetta to this particular protest. Honestly, he wishes that they hadn't bought her to any protests just yet, and especially not for a first meeting. They've only known her for a few days, so no one else has met her just yet, but Enjolras likes Joly and Bossuet and he's pretty sure they like him and he wants Musichetta to like him, too. But he knows what he looks like when he gives a speech, the image that he gives off.

He heard it on TV once, or read it in a book, he doesn't remember. You've got to have the tombstones in in your eyes. That look that says you're ready to die right here and now for what you're doing, and daring your opponent to feel the same or to flee, because they're never going to win if they don't.

He doesn't understand why Joly and Bossuet bought her to a rally to meet him for the first time if they want her to like him. People don't like him like this. They're inspired by him, they'll follow him to the ends of the earth, but they don't likehim.

But he looks into Musichetta's eyes for the first time, and a graveyard looks back. They stare at each other in silence for a while before Enjolras offers her his hand to shake. He doesn't know many women, just the mothers and sisters of the people he cares about. It's one of his failings, and something he has always been meaning to rectify, and he has no good excuse as to why he hasn't. He wonders now, though, if all girls stare up at you in a way that dares you to try something, to underestimate them and feel their wrath. If they all hoard defiance like a dragon hoards gold. He knows those feelings well, has them in his own heart.

-00000-

Grantaire appears out of the crowd, smiling and happy in the way that he has been at every rally since he started offering Enjolras a hand off stage and Enjolras started taking it. Enjolras is glad to know that there is something he can do to make Grantaire feel more involved in their protests, and how much that involvement seems to be agreeing with him.

Grantaire throws his arms around Joly and Bossuet's shoulders and squeezes in between the two of them. Enjolras and Musichetta turn away from each other, and Musichetta offers Grantaire a grin in return to his smile. When Joly introduces her as his and Bossuet's girlfriend, Grantaire's smile stays on his face, but it is fixed there, not natural as it was before, and when Musichetta invites him to have drinks with the three of them his eyes are distrustful when he begs out citing work.

Enjolras wonders what Grantaire saw in Musichetta that made him wary of her, and whether he sees it in Enjolras, too.