(Hi guys! Thank you all for the response on the previous chapter :) I'm so happy you're enjoying this one. Got another chapter for you; though it's a bit shorter than the first one. Hope you'll like it and I'll try to update No Place for a Revolutionary and I Hear You Calling this weekend before I go on holiday, but I'm not making any promises. Enjoy this one!)

Enjolras felt as if something was splitting his skull in two. He had no idea how long he had been sitting on the floor; he had no idea what time it was and he had no idea what was going on with him. All he knew was that he had been fine – well...fine enough – one minute and the next his brain felt like it was about to explode; his stomach was in a rollercoaster, taking his vision along for the ride and he was vaguely aware of the fact that he was trembling like a leaf.

And as if he wasn't feeling bad enough, someone suddenly loudly stumbled up the stairs and turned on the lights. The brightness that shone from them pierced Enjolras' head and a small moan escaped his throat before he all but crawled towards the closest and darkest corner of the room, where he leaned against the wall and tried to make himself as small as possible. The fact that someone was actually there and probably able to help him did not even cross his mind. All was blocked out by the amount of pain that erupted behind his eyes.

"Enjolras?"

Someone was talking to him. Enjolras couldn't place the voice; it seemed to come from far away or from under the water, but at the same time it felt as if the person was shouting in his ear. He curled in tighter on himself and tried to turn away from all the senses his broken head could not handle.

"Enjolras?"

The voice was much closer now and Enjolras knew it was familiar. Very familiar and yet he had the hardest time placing it. On top of that, he really could not bear the noise the person was making. His mind put in a lot of effort to form the words 'shut up', but when they finally reached his lips, something else entirely seemed to come out. He sounded unintelligible and when he tried again, the words still did not make any sense. Not to himself and probably not to the person who has standing near him either.

The person carefully touched his shoulder and started talking to him, but Enjolras couldn't focus on what he was saying. Everything blurred together and was dominated by the fierce pain behind his eyes. He took a deep and shaky breath and tried to calm down his whirling stomach. If whoever was shouting at him could just shut the hell up...that would make him very happy.

Just when the man next to Enjolras stopped talking, somewhere in the distance, a sharp, penetrating sound could be heard. If he had been able to keep his eyes open, Enjolras would have rolled them in frustration. The shrill noise kept blaring through the café and Enjolras realized it was his phone he was hearing.

He heard how the man next to him turned away and walked towards the sound. Yes, please make it stop, Enjolras silently prayed as he pressed his hands harder against his ears hoping he could block the sound out that way.

He didn't even try to make sense of the conversation the man was having on his phone. He actually couldn't care less. All he cared about right now and all he focussed on was to breath through the pain and try not to throw up or pass out.

Although...passing out didn't even sound like a bad idea if he had to be honest...

Combeferre drove back to the Musain as fast as he could without actually breaking any speed limits. The minute Bahorel had answered the phone and told Combeferre that Enjolras wasn't doing so good, the medical student had been sick with worry. The only thing that soothed his racing heart was the fact that Bahorel didn't believe Enjolras was injured. Just stay calm, it's probably nothing too serious. Maybe he's coming down with something and Bahorel is just freaking out because he's drunk, Combeferre tried to tell himself, although Bahorel wasn't one to easily freak out, even when drunk.

He couldn't help but find it frustratingly annoying that the one night that he was actually free and allowed to rest - after one of the most hectic weeks of his life - he was pulled away from that by one roommate who was too drunk to function and another who had probably worked himself sick again. It was frustrating, but - honestly enough - he was used to it. And somewhere deep down he actually liked taking care of his two idiots of roommates.

He parked the car a few blocks away from the Café and started running towards the entrance. He figured Enjolras was probably still upstairs where they usually held all their meetings and stayed behind for a drink or two. Except for tonight, because tonight everyone had agreed to either go out clubbing or go home and sleep. Enjolras had successfully maneuvered his way out of both and had apparently been the only one to stay behind at the Café.

As he walked up the stairs he heard Bahorel call his name. He didn't hear Enjolas, but he was sure his best friend was up there as well. And he was proven right as soon as he entered the room, where he spotted Bahorel standing over a hunched figure. Enjolras sat huddled in a corner, back pressed against the wall, head resting on his knees, hair a complete mess and both arms crossed over his head.

"'Ferre, thank God you're here, I don't know what's wrong with him. I've asked him a million times, but he's just mumbling words that don't make sense..."

Combeferre eyed his best friend worriedly as he approached him and Bahorel. He quietly bent down so he and Enjolras were on eye level. Next, he carefully reached out and pulled Enjolras' arms away from his head, ignoring the small moan that elicited from him, and lifted his head with his hand.

Enjolras kept his eyes firmly closed but allowed Combeferre to raise his head. The deep frown and obvious pain edged across his face told the medical student more than enough. A headache. He had seen Enjolras with his fair share of headaches already - more than the poor student probably deserved - and he could usually recognize one coming up before Enjolras even realized himself.

However, he had never before seen his friend in a state like this. It worried him a little and when Bahorel spoke up again - voice loud and slurred from alcohol use - Enjolras visibly flinched and his face contorted in pain. Along with the closed eyes, the trembling, the convulsive swallowing and the lack of any head wound or bump, Combeferre was 90% sure they were dealing with a migraine. And a bad one at that.

He lowered his own voice and turned to Bahorel. "Could you turn the lights off?", he asked quietly while he brushed a strand of hair from Enjolras' eyes.

Bahorel frowned, but did as he was told. When he turned back to his friends, he noticed how Combeferre had crouched down closer to his friend and was now carefully carding his fingers through Enjolras' hair while speaking softly to him. Apparently Combeferre was able to make sense of all the unintelligible mumbling. And besides that, Enjolras seemed to realize it was Combeferre who was with him, while before he obviously did not even acknowledge Bahorel at all.

Combeferre let out a deep breath when he realized what was going on with Enjolras. He was actually kind of relieved. A migraine could of course be very painful; very unpleasant, but at least it wasn't anything life threatening. He silently sat down next to Enjolras and let his friend lean in close. He whispered questions in the younger ones ear and carefully listened to the low answers Enjolras gave him to confirm his diagnosis.

"My...head r-really h-hurts...'Ferre", he breathed shakily and he slowly turned to press his forehead against Combeferre's shoulder. "What's w-wrong with m-me?"

Combeferre kept his own voice as low and soft as possible when he answered. "Nothing is wrong with you, Julien, it's a migraine...a bad one, I have to admit, but it'll all be alright. I'm going to take you back home, give you something for the pain and then you're going to sleep." He knew firsthand that experiencing a migraine - and such a bad one like Enjolras' was now - for the first time could be more than a little scary.

Enjolras breathed in deeply through his nose and slowly blew out again. He swallowed thickly and pressed his hand tighter against his stomach. He wasn't going to throw up. Not now; not in the Musain... Everything was still hazy, his head still felt like it was splitting in two and he didn't understand half of what was going on, but he did feel safer now that Combeferre was with him.

"Sound good?" Combeferre added quietly, successfully bringing Enjolras back to him instead of lost in his own mind. And when Enjolras nodded slowly, he placed one arm around his waist and along with Bahorel's help, he lifted Enjolras up to his feet. "Okay then, small steps", he muttered and they made their way out of the Café and towards Combeferre's car. For once Enjolras did not even try to hide his pain or his weakness - mostly because he just didn't have the strength for it – and he leaned heavily on both Combeferre and Bahorel letting them take most of his weight.

TBC.

(And that's where they go back to their apartment and the fluffy 'taking-care-of-Enjolras' will begin. But that's for the next chapter. Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks)