Seven
Aftercare

Combeferre felt like his head was about to explode. He could smell so much blood; blood that would be toxic to him mingling with blood he could happily gorge himself on for hours. His fangs had extended almost past his chin, and his heart was beating rapidly, his whole body desperate to latch on to the nearest living thing and feast.

The fighting was over, though, and he could see the panic in the Room of Doors as they tried to find a way to cut off the connection between Musichetta's home and their compound.

The gun in his hand dropped to the floor, in a puddle of blood that was almost black. There was blood on his hands, and before he registered what he was doing his tongue was lapping at it. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt as disgusted with himself as he did in that moment.

But then another scent reached him. Blood, yes, but the blood of...

His hand dropped from his face, no doubt leaving a smear behind, and he darted forwards. The scent of Éponine's blood was suddenly strong, stronger than anybody else's, and he saw a twitching form lying amongst the dead of their enemy.

It was Éponine. She was naked, so she had obviously transformed into a werewolf at some point. A part of him felt almost happy that she had turned against her initial decision to leave the compound and joined them in their fight, but the happiness rapidly turned to panic when he realised that she was clutching a hand to a gaping wound to her abdomen.

He was on his knees beside her in seconds. Through the bloodlust that was threatening to completely take hold of him, he managed to latch on to the fact that Éponine was possibly dying, and that cleared his thoughts a little.

He slid his arm beneath her and eased her into his lap.

"'Ponine," he murmured, lisping slightly through his mouthful of fangs.

Her eyelids blinked in a sleepy, vague way that told him she was slipping away fast. Fuck, there was so much blood, and he hated himself for the fact that, if his mouth could be watering right now, it would be, because Éponine's blood smelled delicious.

"'Ponine, it's going to be fine," he said, trying to keep his voice as soothing as possible. He signalled towards the rest of them to get their attention, and Jehan was the first to run over, closely followed by Bossuet and Courfeyrac.

"Shit, I'll go and get Joly," Bossuet said. He stood there naked, due to his own transformation at some point during the battle, and as they watched he shifted into his other form, that of a golden eagle. He took off down the corridor and out of sight.

Combeferre placed his hands over Éponine's on her stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood. He moved one hand, though, to push her dark hair back from her face. She smiled at the gesture, and tipped her head back a little to meet his eyes. But the smile faded slightly.

"Oh..." she breathed. "I thought...I thought you were Marius."

Combeferre sucked in a breath, and then let it out. He brushed his hand over her hair again. "Sorry," he said. At that moment, Marius walked past; his skin was still glowing, but not as brightly as Combeferre had observed it during the battle itself. The flames that had been about to burst forth had settled down slightly, leaving just a bubbling beneath the skin. "Marius!" he called, stopping the man in his tracks.

Marius turned slowly, and then his mouth dropped open when he saw the scene that lay before him. He hurried over. "Is she -? What happened?"

"I think she's been shot," Jehan said, crouching next to them, his face tight with worry. Their other friends, bloody and battered, gathered around them.

"I couldn't..." Éponine's voice was a soft, quiet thread of sound that was almost undetectable, but somehow, all of them heard it. "She was about to shoot you...Marius..."

She seemed to know what direction his voice was coming from, and one of her hands slipped from her stomach to stretch out towards him. In that moment, Combeferre desperately wished he was elsewhere instead of looking upon a scene that was so intimate and yet so heartbreaking. There was not a soul in the room apart from Éponine herself that didn't realise that Marius would never return her affections.

Marius knelt beside her, and his hand touched hers, curling around her fingers, sticky with blood. "I'm here," he said, and then glanced at Combeferre.

Combeferre kept his eyes fixed on Éponine's face, hating the way that her skin had gone ashen and grey around the edges. She was losing blood so fast.

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, and looked up into Enjolras' face.

"Joly is on his way," Enjolras said. "I have no doubt."

"Enjolras..." Éponine said, almost a sigh. "Do I still have to leave?"

"Of course you don't," Combeferre answered for him. "You don't have to go anywhere, Éponine." Her body jerked a little in his arms, and her hand slipped out of Marius.

Thankfully, at that moment, Joly ran through the door, carrying his bag, Bossuet flying ahead of him. Joly's face was tired, his hands caked with dried blood and dried pastes and the scent of medicine was strong coming from him.

"Musichetta is stable," he announced to the room in general, "But some of the Guard managed to reach the safe room – they blew a hole in the wall –"

"Is Cosette all right?" Marius interrupted, struggling to his feet.

"She's fine," Joly said, kneeling beside Éponine and Combeferre. "Grantaire managed to fight them all off; they're all dead now."

Before another word could be said, Marius was out of the room. They all watched him leave before turning their attentions back to Éponine and Joly.

"Courfeyrac, deal with the dead and any survivors," Enjolras said, standing up from where he crouched beside Combeferre. "We're not wasting resources on healing them. You know what to do."

If Combeferre had been doing anything else at that moment, he probably would have argued that point, but he had no energy to do anything else but hold Éponine, and pray desperately that she was going to pull through.

OOO

Musichetta had woken up at some point during the fighting, probably when the hole had been blown in the wall to the safe room.

The woman's panic was clear, and it was for that reason Cosette remained by her side when Joly took off, summoned by Bossuet to deal with a seriously wounded Éponine.

Cosette was sorry to hear that the other woman had been injured, and wondered if the fighting was over now. Musichetta let out a small whimper from her swollen mouth, and Cosette slipped her hand into Musichetta's, brushing her thumb over the back of the other woman's hand.

"It's all right," she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. "It's all right. I'm here. Do you remember me?"

Musichetta nodded her head slightly.

"I think the fighting is over," Cosette continued. "And you're safe. You're with the rest of us –"

"Joly," Musichetta mumbled.

"He's just gone for a moment," Cosette said, and stroked some of Musichetta's dark brown curls away from her forehead as gently as she could. "He'll be back soon, all right? Then we'll move you to an actual bed. I bet this isn't very comfortable for you."

Musichetta's head shook a little, and then she spoke again. "They didn't take you."

"No," Cosette agreed, and she glanced towards the hole that had been blasted into the wall. Somewhere beyond it was Grantaire, but she hadn't seen him since he'd ducked his head in to say that all of the demons that had tried entering the safe room were dead. Worry made her stomach twist and tighten, but before she could let it take hold of her, she turned her attention back to Musichetta. She smiled. "I had good people protecting me, just like they're protecting you," she said, threading her hand through Musichetta's hair. The other woman's eyes closed a little.

A few moments later, Marius barrelled into the room, looking seconds away from shouting. When he saw her, his mouth opened, but she untangled her hand from Musichetta's curls to hold it up to silence him. "Don't," she said. "Try and be quiet."

He crept forwards. "You're all right," he said.

"Of course I am," she said, giving him a small smile. "I had Grantaire protecting me."

"I saw," Marius said, and he raked a hand through his hair. There was blood on his hand, she saw, and she wondered whose it was.

"How is..." She paused for a moments. "How is everything?"

"They've gone," Marius said. "I managed to blow up the connection between Musichetta's home and our compound, so they shouldn't be back tonight. Everyone is fine, I think – a few injuries, but...Éponine..."

Cosette glanced down at Musichetta. Musichetta's eyes were steady and fixed on Marius as he spoke. He swallowed. "Éponine took a bullet for me," he said. "It's – it isn't looking good, at the minute, but I'm sure that Joly will be able to help her."

Cosette felt sick. "Oh, no," she whispered.

"Joly is an excellent healer," Marius hastened to add. "He's brilliant. I'm sure he can..."

There was a crashing sound outside that snatched all of their attentions, and both Cosette and Marius turned themselves towards the hole in the wall, uncertain of what was going on outside.

OOO

Grantaire had been sat against the wall outside, his elbows braced on his knees, inhaling the scent of blood and death that surrounded him. The bodies of those he had slain lay on the grounds, bodies cut open. The gun he had been given had been no use, in the end – he wasn't sure what had gone wrong – but his machete had been good enough.

He'd been worried he was out of practise, that his body had been wrecked through the years of abuse that came after, but even then, after all this time, he was still...he was still good at it. Good at killing.

He pressed his hands to his face. He wasn't sure he'd ever wanted a drink more than he had in that moment. He wanted to feel the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, feel his mind go fuzzy as his thoughts slowed. He didn't want to have to think. It didn't matter that these people had been trying to hurt Cosette: he could still see their faces, twisting in pain and panic as he advanced, still hear the thump of their bodies as they hit the ground.

He'd dream of it for days, he knew from experience, and that wasn't something he was entirely prepared for.

He heard a set of footsteps approach him. He looked up. It was Enjolras.

His golden blonde hair had fallen out of the ponytail it had been thrown up into, falling in messy strands around his face. His blue eyes were weary, and there was blood and dirt smudged all over his face, coating his hands and the pale grey sweatpants and white T-shirt he had obviously been wearing to bed before the sirens had begun. His heavy boots looked almost comical on his feet given the casual nature of the rest of his outfit.

"What happened?" Grantaire said. His voice sounded hoarse, even to his own ears.

"They surrendered," Enjolras said. "Marius threatened to blow the building up if they didn't leave. So they left."

"Congratulations to Marius," Grantaire muttered.

Enjolras looked around at the bodies on the ground. "Congratulations to yourself," he said, raising his eyebrows.

Something inside Grantaire snapped, and before he knew it he was on his feet and was slamming Enjolras up against the wall, one arm braced over the demon's throat.

"Are you fucking shitting me?" Grantaire growled. "Are you actually being serious? They're fucking dead and all you want to do is congratulate me?" His voice rose into a shout. "This is nothing to be proud of!"

"They work for the Demon King," Enjolras said, his voice stony and his face betraying no fear in light of his current predicament. He kept his hands resting lightly on Grantaire's arm. "They would have taken –"

"That doesn't change anything!" Grantaire bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. "They had lives! Maybe families! They were doing their job –"

"And you did yours!" Enjolras shouted back. "You keep on saying that your job is to protect Cosette –"

"It is!"

"Well then, what's the problem?" Enjolras snapped.

"What's the -? Where is your fucking humanity?" Grantaire said. "Yes, I will kill to protect Cosette, but it doesn't mean I have to fucking like it!"

"We all have to do things that we don't like," Enjolras said. "Are you going to put me down, now?"

Grantaire released him, shoving him to one side before dragging a hand over his own face.

"Grantaire," a soft voice spoke up from somewhere behind him.

He turned to look at Cosette. She stood on the flight of steps, her hands clutching the rails so tightly that her knuckles had turned a yellowy white.

"Cosette," he breathed, voice ragged.

She moved up the rest of the steps fast, her hands tucking into his and squeezing tightly. "It's all right," she said, looking up into his face with so much fucking trust in her eyes and didn't she realise that he wasn't deserving, wasn't worth it?

"Let's go back to our room," she suggested. "Okay?"

He didn't move, not even when she pulled on his hand. That was when her arms came around him and her face pressed into his chest.

"I love you," she whispered, fiercely. "I love you so much, Grantaire, and everything is all right. You just need to get out of here, okay? You need to calm down and relax. Please. For me." She said all of this quietly, into his chest, and then she looked up at him.

The next time she pulled on his hand to tow him down the corridor, he let her.

OOO

It had been a long, long time since Cosette had seen Grantaire in this kind of state, angry and trembling. She remembered when they had first met, when her father had first brought Grantaire home, and she'd felt (understandably) nervous in his presence. For a while, he had always seemed seconds away from exploding, from losing his temper, and it took time for that side of him to settle down.

It came back when he was stressed, and she had known it had been lying just below the surface ever since those strange little demons had broken into their home.

In their room, she pushed him down to sit on the bed. "You need to sleep," she said.

He raked a hand through his hair. There was blood all over his hands and arms. "I didn't mean to attack Enjolras," he said, voice quiet. "I just...I don't..."

"I know," she said, softly, smoothing one of her own hands over his hair. She bit her lip. "Maybe you should shower, first," she murmured, more to herself than to him. It made sense; there was blood all over him, after all, and that was probably a nasty reminder.

"Hmm." He stared at his hands, stretching the fingers wide. There was disgust clear in his face.

"Grantaire," she said, turning and rooting through one of the metal cupboards in their room. She found the towel and bag of toiletries crammed inside that belonged to Grantaire, and set them on the floor, along with a change of clothes. "Please, go and shower, and then come back here and we can both sleep. All right? How does that sound?"

He buried his head in his hands for a few moments, breathing heavily, and then he stood up and ducked down to pick up the clothes and towels that she was offering him. "Okay," he muttered.

She wrapped her hand around his upper arm and squeezed. "Thank you," she said, and watched as he left. He left the door open, presumably because his hands were free, and she was just crossing the room to shut it when Marius appeared in the doorway.

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right," he said. "Grantaire seemed a bit..."

"He's just getting a shower," Cosette said, stepping aside so Marius could enter the room properly.

"Will you be all right with him?" Marius asked. "He att-"

"I'll be perfectly fine with him," Cosette interrupted. "He won't hurt me. Grantaire just has...A bad past, okay? I think tonight probably brought some things back he'd rather forget. It's not my place to say."

She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall behind her.

"Oh," Marius said, more of a soft puff of breath than anything else. He mimicked her stance, the muscles in his arms tensing. She noticed that his skin seemed to be glowing slightly, and wondered whether he still felt as hot as he had done just over an hour ago.

"What about you?" she said. "Are you all right?"

"Tired," he said, with something like a laugh. "Very tired. I'm, um, I'm a fire demon."

That would explain the heat and the glowing, she thought to herself.

"When I'm threatened, or angry, or stressed, my powers come out," he said. "I'm not very good at controlling them, and it can be exhausting. I had to use them to destroy the link between the compound and Musichetta's home."

Now he mentioned it, she could see the tiredness in his face, in the slow way he was blinking his eyes and the way he was struggling to hide a yawn.

"You should go and sleep," she said.

"I know," he sighed. "But I don't think I'll be able to." He tapped the side of his head. "Mind is racing."

"Adrenaline?" she guessed, and then wondered whether demons had adrenaline. She pushed that thought away. "Well, you should try, at least."

"I'll probably go and see how everyone else is doing first," he said. "Do you want to come?"

"I'm going to wait for Grantaire," she said. "I think it's best I stay around him for tonight. But send everyone my best. And – and I really hope Éponine is okay. If you see her and she's awake, tell her – tell her I hope she gets well soon, please."

He nodded, and unfolded his arms. He edged towards the door.

She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. He stopped instantly, his back tensing beneath her fingertips.

"And Marius," she said, quietly. He turned around, slowly, eyes soft. "Thank you," she blurted out. "For – for worrying about me. It's, nice."

She felt like kicking herself, because nice wasn't what she meant to say, not at all. But then she noticed the slightly pink tinge to Marius' cheeks after she had spoken, and the way he was visibly struggling for something to say.

"It's – it's – it's all right," he said. "I mean, I was – I was worried about you."

"I know," she said, letting her hand drop off his shoulder. "That's, um, what I thanked you for?"

"Ah, yeah." He went a little pinker, particularly his ears. She had the overwhelming urge to hug him, or kiss him, she wasn't sure which urge was stronger. So she went for a combination of both, wrapping on arm around his back and standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

When she lowered herself back down onto the flats of her feet, she noticed that his skin had gone from pink to almost being bright red, and the skin beneath his shirt felt very hot against her arm. She pulled away from him, feeling her own cheeks heat up.

"Goodnight," she said, stepping backwards again.

"Goo – goodnight," he said. Almost as if he wasn't aware he was doing it, one of his hands lifted and touched the spot she had kissed, and then he backed out of the room into the corridor.

She managed him one more smile before closing the door.

OOO

Their compound hadn't been built with a proper infirmary. There were few enough of them that Joly could get away with treating them all in their own bedrooms, which was how Combeferre found himself sat by Éponine's bedside, one of her hands resting in his.

Only the lamp by her bedside was on, throwing a warm yellow glow over the room, but she still managed to look cold and pale despite its warmth. Joly's verdict had been a very firm she'll live, delivered with a clap to Combeferre's back, but he couldn't shake the fear that still nestled at the bottom of his stomach. He was just grateful that he could no longer smell her blood and that his fangs had retracted properly.

She huffed softly in her sleep, turning her head away from him so that part of her face had been obscured. He eased back in the hard plastic chair filched from the safe room, trying to get comfortable although he knew he wouldn't sleep tonight. Couldn't, according to Joly; although he said she'd live, he thought it was best someone kept an eye on her, just in case.

As someone who technically didn't need to sleep, Combeferre had been the prime candidate; it just so happened he had a bigger motivation for wanting to make sure she was okay.

He looked around her room, saw the bag lying on its side on the floor, the sleeve of a dark red top trailing onto the carpet. She'd been so close to leaving tonight, in more ways than one. The idea scared him more than he knew it should have.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. He almost jumped when he heard the sound of Éponine's door creaking open, his body tensing until he saw Marius' familiar form in the doorway. The fire demon's skin was still glowing a little, and he looked more than a little apprehensive.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Joly says she'll live," Combeferre said. "But he wants her to be watched over, just in case."

"Oh, good." The relief was obvious in Marius' tone. "I feel...I don't know how I feel, you know?" He leaned against the doorframe, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers and eyes trained on Éponine. "She took a bullet for me. She nearly died."

"I know," Combeferre said, softly.

They both remained there, in silence; Marius watching Éponine, and Combeferre watching Marius. Eventually, Marius' eyes lifted to meet Combeferre's. "I'm sorry," he said.

"What for?" Combeferre said.

"I'm really not as oblivious to things as people think I am," Marius said, shaking his head. "I think where Éponine is concerned, I tried to ignore a lot of it. But I have noticed things."

"You've absolutely nothing to apologise for," Combeferre said, feeling more drained and tired in that moment than he could ever remember feeling before.

Marius didn't answer that, but instead said, "Tonight was terrible."

"That it was," Combeferre agreed, relieved to change the subject.

"How was everyone else afterwards?" Marius asked, edging into the room. "I didn't – I didn't hang around to check, and everyone seems to have disappeared..."

"Mainly superficial injuries, nothing too serious," Combeferre said. "Bahorel had a pretty nasty leg wound, but it was sorted very quickly. We would have been overwhelmed, though, eventually, if you hadn't done what you did."

"I just wish I could have done it sooner," Marius said, shrugging. "I hate how little control I have sometimes."

"You should work on that," Combeferre murmured, as Éponine's brow dipped into a frown and she began to twitch.

"I am trying," Marius said.

"We can work on it during your training sessions," Combeferre said, brushing his thumb over the back of Éponine's hands. "I had no idea you were struggling that much."

"Thanks," Marius said. "I'll come and see her again in the morning. Will you be all right tonight?"

"Yeah," Combeferre said, rubbing his eyes. "I don't need sleep."

"Hmm," Marius said, in a tone that suggested he didn't quite believe Combeferre. "Good night, Combeferre."

"Good night, Marius," Combeferre muttered in response.