(Hi everyone! Thank you all so much for the wonderful response you've given me on this story. It means so much to me to know that this one is appreciated. Here's the next chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it! As for an answer to some of your questions, yes, a migraine can be as bad as I've described here. There are a few types of migraines, one more severe than the other. My brother has a rare kind, that had him lose consciousness once..)

The walk towards Combeferre's car was slow and difficult. Enjolras tried his best to stay upright and move his feet, but he had a hard time keeping his eyes open and concentrating on Combeferre's reassuring words. Every movement he made, no matter how small the steps, felt like an iron hammer slamming the back of his head and he wanted nothing more than to lie down pass out.

It definitely didn't help that his stomach was determined to empty its contents, although it still had not quite decided when that would happen, leaving Enjolras with the constant feeling of being sick. He let out a miserable moan when his stomach turned over for the umpteenth time and he tripped over his own feet.

The arm around his waist tightened and then there was a low, soothing voice near his ear.

"Just a few more steps, Julien, we're almost there. Come on, one foot in front of the other."

Combeferre's voice was calm and soft, but the slight tremor betrayed the concern that was hidden in there. He had seen his fair share of migraines; and he wasn't unfamiliar to them himself, but he had never before witnessed a case such as severe as Enjolras', though he had heard and learned about cases where the patient could experience strong neurological symptoms such as troubled vision and hearing; confusion; sluggish movements and even loss of consciousness.

Combeferre shared a look with Bahorel, who was on the other side of Enjolras, keeping him upright. Both friends kept up their quiet whispers of encouragement, but the medical student doubted if Enjolras was actually hearing them. His younger friend was trembling violently and Combeferre knew it had to be from the effort it took for him to stay upright and keep walking. He couldn't be more relieved when they rounded the corner and he spotted his car.

Enjolras remained quiet throughout their walk. He closed his eyes, pressed his lips together and forced his legs to keep moving. He swallowed thickly and let out a shaky breath. If only the world could stop spinning, he'd be very grateful.

Just when they rounded the corner, and Combeferre reassured him they were practically there, Enjolras' eyes turned wide and he stopped dead in his tracks. Apparently his stomach had decided now was the time. He was scared though as he knew throwing up would mean an increased pressure in his head and he was pretty sure that if that happened, his head would actually have to explode. He tried to take deep breaths through his nose and prayed he could keep the inevitable at bay. Please...please don't...not now...

Combeferre had spent enough time with a sick Enjolras to recognize the look on his friend's face and the horror in his eyes the minute he stopped walking. The older one wasn't at all surprised; migraines were usually paired with nausea and Combeferre hadn't missed the way Enjolras had held a tight grip on his stomach ever since he had arrived at the Musain. He let out a sad sigh as he watched Enjolras do his best to fight the urge to throw up, because he knew very well that it was no use. It was going to come out no matter how much his friend tried to resist.

He carefully maneuvered himself so that he was standing behind Enjolras while still holding a firm grip on him. Bahorel seemed to realize what was going on and - with a stomach not all that steady due to alcohol - mumbled something about bringing Enjolras' stuff to the car and walked away.

Combeferre gently brushed his friend's hair back and placed a cool hand on his forehead. "Don't fight it, Julien, it's going to happen anyway, just let it out."

Enjolras let out a choked sound and shook his head defiantly. His breathing picked up and he clenched his hands into fists.

Combeferre closed his eyes in quiet frustration. "It'll only get worse if you try to keep it in. I'm right here, it will be alright, I promise. There's no shame in this."

All he got in response was a groan and another shake of the head. But when Enjolras tried to say something, his face turned ashen and he bucked forward. If it wasn't for Combeferre's firm grip, he would've lost his balance. And just as he feared, the pain that erupted in his head the moment he started throwing up, was unbearable. His vision blackened around the edges and he was sure he very nearly passed out, but Combeferre's voice kept him grounded. He felt hot tears slip from his eyes as the retching seemed to go on forever.

Combeferre remained a solid presence through it all. He knew the pain Enjolras was in had to be torturous and he tried to alleviate some of the pain by lightly massaging his scalp, neck and shoulders. He continued his gentle ministrations after the vomiting had subsided and he carefully pulled Enjolras closer to him so that his younger friend could lean against him fully and catch his breath.

After a few minutes, Combeferre gently thumbed the few tears on Enjolras' face away and he placed the younger one's arm over his shoulders. His own arm once again returned to its place around Enjolras' waist. "Let's get you home, shall we?", he whispered kindly.

Enjolras did not answer. He was completely drained of all energy and even though the walk to Combeferre's car was only about ten more meters, to Enjolras it felt more like ten kilometers. His head was pounding and every step he made caused a sharp pain to flash behind his eyes. He was still nauseous and he feared he might throw up again. He knew he was letting Combeferre carry pretty much all of his weight, but he couldn't help it. He just didn't have the strength any more to care about his pride.

When they got to the car, Combeferre carefully put his friend in the front seat and pulled the back of the chair back so that Enjolras could lie more comfortably. Then he turned to Bahorel, who was eyeing his sick leader worriedly.

"Is he going to be okay?"

Combeferre smiled softly and squeezed Bahorel's shoulder. "Yes, he'll be fine. It will probably take a day or two for him to get back on his feet, but at least it's the weekend." He hesitated for a minute and he looked back at the car. He really wanted to get Enjolras home and in bed as fast as possible, but it felt wrong to not offer his friend a ride home.

"Can I drop you off at your place?" Combeferre then asked, but Bahorel shook his head almost immediately.

"No, that's okay 'Ferre, get him home, I don't mind a little walk."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive", Bahorel smiled, "Call me when he feels better, will you 'Ferre?" When Combeferre promised he would, Bahorel turned around and started his way back to his own apartment. Combeferre watched him turn the corner and then got behind the wheel. He glanced at Enjolras and he frowned. His poor friend really did not look good. He turned around in his seat and pulled a small bottle of water from the back. Then he gently nudged Enjolras' shoulder and coaxed him into drinking a few sips. The blond let out a small sigh of relief.

"Almost home now", Combeferre said softly and he started the engine.

They got to the apartment Combeferre shared with Courfeyrac and Enjolras within ten minutes. It proved a little difficult to get his weakened friend up the stairs, but they managed in the end. When they arrived at the front door, Combeferre pulled out the keys and carefully unlocked the door. He silently prayed for Courfeyrac to still be asleep on the couch, because the last thing Enjolras needed right now was a jumping, drunken Courfeyrac.

As the door opened, he let out a small thank you to whoever was listening, because Courfeyrac was still out cold. He had curled himself into a tight ball and was clutching the blanket Combeferre had thrown around him earlier as if he was afraid someone would steal it away from him. It was actually a quite endearing sight and Combeferre couldn't suppress a small smile.

Enjolras' small whimper however brought him back to the problems at hand and he carefully guided his friend to the nearest bedroom, which happened to be his own. He made sure the lights were off before they entered. Once there, he pulled back the covers of the bed and gently pushed his friend down. Then he took off Enjolras' jacket and shoes and rushed towards the bathroom to get a glass of water and the painkillers that the blond desperately needed. Enjolras swallowed them thankfully.

His friend still looked confused and a little scared, but Combeferre promised him everything would be alright. The most important thing for now, was that Enjolras would get some sleep. He could provide the blond with answers when he woke up again.

"Please, stay?" Enjolras whispered weakly and he turned pleading eyes towards Combeferre. The painkillers had yet to start working and he really did not want to be alone right now.

Combeferre smiled at him and gently carded his fingers through the blond curls. "Sure", he said quietly, "I'll stay, just try to go to sleep now Julien. You'll feel better when you wake up, I promise.."

Enjolras did as he was told and soon enough he let the blissful darkness claim him. When Combeferre was positive his younger friend was fast asleep, he quietly moved himself to the small couch. Might as well get some sleep myself, he thought tiredly. Before his own eyes fell closed, he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was already after five in the morning. So much for my quiet evening of peaceful rest.

He woke up again not even an hour later to the sound of retching coming from the bathroom. Courfeyrac or Enjolras?, was the first thing that crossed his mind. Both could be equally possible, since one was bound to have a massive hangover that more often than not was paired with throwing up, and the other would still be fighting the symptoms of the migraine from hell. When Combeferre opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the bed, he had his answer and with a deep sigh he pulled himself up and made his way to the bathroom.

TBC.

(So yeah, I said this would be a three-shot, but I'm having fun with it, so maybe it'll be a four or five chapter story. Definitely not longer than that though. More fluffyness in the next chapter :) Please let me know if you liked the chapter in a review? It would mean a lot, thanks! And if you have any ideas of your own, please let me know, I'm always open to them)