2/7/13

So guys, I hate to be a review whore but … I need your reviews! I just want to know if I am ruining My Apollo Series with this sequel. Please review even if it is to tell me if you don't like it. I don't even care if you flame … I just need to know if this is worth continuing at this rate.

On the topic of my rate, as I am participating in Camp NaNoWriMo for the whole of July so my updates will be much slower but you will still be hearing from me I assure you! And on the fifteenth of July I am going on holiday for two weeks so my schedule is out the window!

And I am now replying to your reviews by PM except if you are a guest!

Chapter 6

Enjolras walked with Erica to the one place he didn't want to go. Erica had been invited home by her father to pick up all her belongings as she was finally properly moving out. It had only been a week since Erica entered his life, and he already couldn't remember her not living there. But it still pained him to see her lying in the couch Grantaire always ended up sprawled on when he was staying. Her brown curls were the mirror of his and they had the same quirky personality. Enjolras was beginning to doubt if he had actually done this for the right reasons. She was so like him. And it wounded him every morning when he woke up with his head nestled in brown curls; just to fully open his eyes and to find a different body against him than the one he always wished would be there. It crushed his heart but he loved Erica; just in a completely different way to her older brother.

The Grantaire household loomed above him and Enjolras swallowed nervously. It was strange to see a five year old girl comforting a twenty two year old. "It'll be okay Enjy, Nicky and Papa won't let anything happen," she smiled as her little feet jumped up the stairs. Enjolras wished he could have the certainty that the little girl displayed so casually. She pushed the dilapidated old door open and skipped in before Enjolras had even reached the top of the stairs. He hurried in after her; he refused to leave her in there alone once again. The house still made him cringe; everything was falling apart and the darkness clung to you as soon as you stepped over the threshold. Enjolras could only see the outlines of furniture but stumbled through. "Erica?" he shouted through the shroud of darkness. "Where are you, sweetie?" he called out with slightly more concern. A hand grabbed his arm and another wrapped round his mouth. Enjolras lashed out with all his power but the man was too strong. He clamped his jaws down on the man's hand and he growled in pain but didn't move.

"Just chloroform him already!" a familiar voice snarled. It was Louis, head of the Grantaire clan and man who seemed to harbour a grudge against the boys who taught Nic to be a respectable human being. Because Louis hated respectable human beings; Erica always told Enjolras it was because he couldn't be one so he didn't want anyone to. He had chuckled at the thought, which he brushed off as five-year-old girl logic, but now it actually seemed like a good theory. A cloth was pressed over his mouth and the smell jutted him out of his thoughts. Enjolras renewed his struggles but unconsciousness claimed his mind.

XXX

Enjolras woke up with a groan. His head was fuzzy and the room was a blur. "And our little bourgeois is awake," Louis chuckled, lifting Enjolras' chin up. After examining Enjolras thoroughly he chuckled again, "I can see why littl' R dotes on this one!"

Francis laughed along."A real fancy boy," he agreed and Enjolras snarled. If there was anything Enjolras hated more than the monarchy, it was being called a fancy boy. He tried to move away from Louis' grip but his arms and legs were all tied up too tight for him to move more than an inch.

"I am not a fancy boy!" he snarled, almost forgetting that he was a prisoner.

"I don't think you are in a position to be arguing with us kiddo," Xavier smirked, pressed his foot down slowly on Enjolras' ankle. He bit his lip to stop himself crying out at the pain, even when you could hear the bone start to crack. The other three men just stood and watched as Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to escape the agony.

XXX

He didn't know how long he had been down there. But it had to be around a week since he last saw the outside of the dark cellar. The brothers had fed him so form of gruel once a day and kept a bucket of grimy water full in the corner. So they weren't trying to kill him; and they didn't seem to want anything from him. All that happened was that one of them came down, gave him food, roughed him up a bit and then left, submerging him in the darkness once again. Every part of his body ached and the room was slowly shrinking in on him. The darkness was crushing and the stench was becoming unbearable. Enjolras found himself curled up in the corner panting as his head swum. They had to be looking for him; the Amis had to be looking for him. And their heroes; Grantaire and his masked accomplice, Le Libérateur et Le Révolutionnaire. They had to be coming to save him; they always did. The mystery of Le Révolutionnaire still puzzled him; during one of his missions, Grantaire had picked up a partner in rescue that was like a vigilante in training. He let out a deep sigh that bordered on a sob. Enjolras hated having to rely on others; he was an independent soul but not even Apollo could live without others. Without his Dionysus.

XXX

"Where are they both?" Combeferre cursed out loud and everyone looked at him sympathetically. Enjolras was everything to him and he had been missing for a week now. He was nowhere to be seen and now Combeferre couldn't find Grantaire anywhere either. They needed La Libérateur to find Enjolras. Enjolras never missed meetings and he hadn't been home at all; Combeferre slammed his fist onto the table. Courfeyrac jumped awake, looking bemused; Courfeyrac had been helping Combeferre look for Enjolras all night, every night and had got no sleep at all. Combeferre apologised profusely for waking him up but Courfeyrac just shrugged him off. They all knew how protective Combeferre was of his little brother and could not imagine the strain he must be under. But they didn't understand the importance of Grantaire. Combeferre needed Grantaire for these sorts of things. La Révolutionnairewas nothing without La Libérateur. Combeferre was La Révolutionnairebut he wasn't a hero; he was an extra set of hands to help Grantaire in his hair-brained schemes. He couldn't do this by himself; he felt hopeless. His mind swum and he found himself struggling to breathe. Combeferre's chest squeezed tighter and his head pounded the room was a blur. He fell onto the floor hyperventilating.

The air would just not come; his lungs starved and all become one large blur. He could hear talking but it was as if he was hearing through cotton wool yet they were shouting in his head. Someone touched his shoulders but the panic consumed his whole world; Combeferre squeezed his eyes closed. He prayed that when he opened them it would be Enjolras holding him; his heart clenched and breathing became even harder as the reality hit. "'Ferre? Lucien!" the voice shouted but Combeferre couldn't respond. "Breathe for me Luce, in and out," the voice reassured him. He opened his eyes slowly as his breathing slowed to find Jehan holding him.

"I-I need him home …I need him," Combeferre mumbled with tear gathering in his eyes. Everyone knew that the two men were joined by some form of invisible bond but this was the first time Combeferre had broken down without Enjolras. Jehan held him close and kissed him on the top of his head tenderly.

"We'll find him 'Ferre, I promise," Jehan whispered. Everyone was too absorbed in their friend's troubles to notice the swoosh of a caped figure leaving through the back door. Jehan's promise would be fulfilled … ifLa Libérateur had anything to do with it!