18/6/13

Thanks to the reviewers! I love that you have seen this through to the beginning of the sequel!

Almost An Actress – Thanks baby, honoured to have you!

Darci the Thespian – I would have liked to keep them together … but then my reason for him breaking it off would be void.

MademoiselleKraut – Maybe they will … maybe they won't

Stagepageandscreen – Aww sorry sweetie. He needs your hugs

TotaltotheMax – He is the king of foolish choices, and it is ok to love my sadistic writing ;)

Chapter 2

It had been three months; and still there was no sight of Grantaire. After Grantaire had returned back to life and they had all taken him home, Courfeyrac had been determined that they next day they would both arrive together at the Musain hand in hand. He had even bet fifty francs on it with Bahorel. What they hadn't expected was, come the next morning, for Enjolras to walk in alone. He just arrived with a pile of books and notes and sat down in the corner like nothing had ever happened. Courfeyrac had instantly glanced to the door expecting the drunkard to follow at a respectful distance. He never did. Grantaire had never returned and his departure was a taboo subject with Enjolras. Anyone that even mentioned Grantaire's name was shot down in a ball of fire by their leader. But that never stopped them worrying about him and looking for him; who knows what the drunkard would do to himself. This whole incident from before proved his point.

They had spent weeks hunting the streets and underhand establishments all of Paris; all the places he used to frequent before this. That was why Courfeyrac was surprised when he just saw Grantaire walking down the street one morning. Grantaire had obviously been trying so hard to hide from his worried friends but no he had finally slipped up and Courfeyrac pounced on the first chance he had. He blended in with the crowd and practically snuck up on the drunkard. "Grantaire," he shouted and grabbed his arm as the winecask made to run. Grantaire let out a groan and turned around to face Courfeyrac. He was certainly worse for wear. Grantaire had never prided himself on his appearance like Courfeyrac did but everywhere they went he was slightly smart; smart for a drunkard. But now he wasn't; his clothes were torn and dirty and hung loosely on a too thin frame. His eyes were hollow but the most worrying sight was what was hidden behind those brown eyes. Complete and utter indifference; no emotions, no thoughts lurked in their depths. It was a truly unsettling to see his friend in such a state he was almost unrecognisable compared to the real Grantaire. Something had gone seriously wrong since they last saw the drunkard and Courfeyrac was not leaving until he knew what.

"What's happened to you 'Taire?" Courfeyrac asked, gripping Grantaire's arm.
"Nothing is wrong," Grantaire replied. Even his voice was emotionless and empty. Courfeyrac realised that without Enjolras in his life, Grantaire was a shell. He was devoid of all the life and spirit he was infamous for unless he had people in his life to sustain it for. Grantaire needed the Amis; he just thought they were better off without him. They most certainly weren't better off without him and even if it meant beating some sense into that stupid head of his, Courfeyrac had to get him to understand.
"Don't use that line; it is almost as bad as 'I'm fine!'" Courfeyrac exclaimed, his grip tightening on Grantaire's arm.
"I'm fine," Grantaire practically growled, wrenching his arm viciously away from Courfeyrac. "And I thought I told Enjolras not to look for me and not to let you lot do so," he snarled turning around.
"Come back R, we all miss you," he pleaded, standing in Grantaire's way.
"Well, I have a life now without you guys! I don't need you anymore!" he snapped, pushing Courfeyrac out if his way and disappearing into the crowd. Courfeyrac desperately searched for his lost friend; but he was gone once again.

Courfeyrac arrived at the Musain before Enjolras and so instantly dived into his monologue of how they had to save Grantaire. "He wasn't good, mes amis. He was empty, like a shell!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, thumping his fists on the table. "Why will you not listen to me?" he cried out as his friends sighed. He could not understand why none of them wanted to help their friend. Grantaire was an idiot sometimes but he still needed to be helped; he was still one of them at heart.

"If he says he is better off without us then there is nothing we can do. Are you sure you weren't just thinking he needs us?" Combeferre sighed and Courfeyrac glared at him. He could still see Grantaire's lifeless eyes boring into his, and his emotionless voice echoed in his mind. Grantaire was never emotionless; he was easy to read unless he had something to hide. He was certainly hiding something and the others had to understand this.

"I am not making this up!" Courfeyrac cried out desperately. They needed to save Grantaire; he certainly needed saving there was no doubt. He always needed them, he was nothing without them, He couldn't have moved on without talking to them. There was something wrong with one of his best friends and no one was listening to him. "I'll save him by myself then!" Courfeyrac screamed and pushed out of the door past a confused Enjolras.

"What's wrong with him?" Enjolras asked, looking out the door after Courfeyrac; everyone fell silent. Grantaire had become a taboo subject around their leader and everyone was reluctant to bring him up. All apart from one that is; Combeferre was the only one that dared face the wrath of Enjolras.

"Grantaire," Combeferre replied with a shrug. Enjolras glared at him and his body instantly tensed. "Courfeyrac is worried about him. He says that Grantaire's not doing well without us," Enjolras' best friend explained calmly while everyone else subtly backed away.

"Well, he can come back if he wants," Enjolras snapped, secretly wishing he would come back. He hated that Grantaire was suffering but his mind was still focused on the fact they could not be together until this was all over.

"What has happened between the two of you?" Combeferre asked and the rest of the amis winced at his brash statement. They all had been thinking it; but Enjolras was scary when his anger was directed at you. The fury built in their explosive leader but Combeferre just stood firm in front of him. If one person could still the storm that was raging amongst the Amis then it was Combeferre, their guide.

"Nothing!" Enjolras exclaimed defensively. It was obvious to his brother that there was something wrong but he could not openly challenge Enjolras like that in front of his followers. He knew that there were limits to how much he could try to change Enjolras' views for the better before the stubborn revolutionary would just shut himself off from them all. That moment was on the verge of these limits; it wasn't worth pushing. "I am just saying that maybe it isn't entirely bad Grantaire is gone. And if he wants to come back then he can walk back in any moment," he explained with his fury lessening by the second. He dropped his papers on the table with an almighty thump. "Does anyone else have anything they want to get out of the way before we begin?" he asked with a slight snarl as if he was challenging anyone else to speak. No one spoke up and Enjolras nodded. "Then we can begin the meeting properly," he stated, pulling out a sheet of paper and laying it on the table.

Courfeyrac had returned to the alley he saw Grantaire disappear into in a vain attempt to find his friend. Grantaire was nowhere to be seen, but it didn't look good. This was on the edge of gang border; this was where the Grantaire family started to take over from Patron-Minette. The realisation dawned on him; Grantaire had gone home. No one knew about Grantaire's past apart from Combeferre and Enjolras who only knew the barest of details about what happened before he left. Courfeyrac sat on the floor leaning on the wall; maybe he had made up with his family, maybe he actually had people to care for him now. The Grantaire family were well known and Grantaire could be respected with them. He couldn't spoil that for him. Eventually Courfeyrac stood up again and look down the alley. He looked one more time and turned away to walk home. He couldn't help feeling that he was leaving Grantaire and throwing away his loyalty to the drunkard; but it had to be done.

Grantaire stood in the darkness of the alleyway, watching. He hated doing this to them all. But they didn't need him, give Courfeyrac a day or two then he would have forgotten all about that chance meeting. Grantaire slid down the wall and sat with his head on his hands. It would be lying to tell himself that he didn't need them. He needed them with all his heart but his heart was shattered now. He could not return to Enjolras; things would never be the same after what happened. His heart wouldn't be able to cope with seeing the marble god then was almost his. People walked past the alley staying well clear of his slumped form. "Oi petite belette!" a gruff voice shouted from the entrance. Grantaire sighed standing up.

"I'm coming gros lourdaud," Grantaire shouted back before walking over.

"What have I told you about talking to me like that Little R?" the man snarled.

"I don't seem to remember Louis," Grantaire replied as he approached. The giant of a man, Louis Grantaire, cuffed Grantaire around the face, nudging his already swollen eye.

"I said don't!" he snarled, pulling Grantaire along behind him. "And we have work to do!" he added with a smile to the rest of the members of the Grantaire clan.

These are the translations to the French insults:

Petite Belette – Little Weasel

Gros Lourdaud – Big Oaf