A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing the previous chapter-and sorry for the cliffhanger. Naturally this chapter has lots of warnings for all things medical, foul language, threats of violence, and discussion about abuse.
Chapter 13: Capacity and Audacity
It is a rare day for Enjolras when time seems to move at a leisurely pace or at least one slower than he'd like it to be. 'We're adrift till we find leads,' he muses with some measure of irritated impatience after listening to Eponine's voicemail regarding Clara Gardner's reticence. He grits his teeth when he sees that the wall clock next to his cubicle shows the time to be nearly twelve noon. Chances are that all his usual informants are out for lunch, thus making any inquiry within this hour short or next to useless.
As he sends emails to the Blakeneys and Andrew Ffoulkes to relay this news to them, his phone begins to ring shrilly with an incoming call. Enjolras raises an eyebrow when he sees who the call is from. "Hello Musichetta. This is unusual."
"Enjolras, are you sitting down?" Musichetta asks. Her words are clear but there is a terseness in her tone. "I have pretty nasty news for you but you have to let me finish everything I've got to say before you jump in."
"I could do that." He can hear the commotion of an emergency room in the background, which only unsettles him further since it's not where his friend usually works. "What is it?"
"Eponine is in the ER, and I mean she's here as a patient. Apparently she went out for lunch, your dad was there and he pretty much shoved her out of her seat," Musichetta begins. "She's got a nasty wound on her head, but nothing else has come up so we're still observing her and the baby. Combeferre, Joly, and I are with her now."
'This has to be some sick joke,' Enjolras thinks but he looks around and finds that the hands on the clock are still ticking, a sure sign he is wide awake and not caught in some nightmare. "May I talk to Eponine?"
"She's undergoing some tests, but I'll tell her to call you back right away," Musichetta replies. "You have to come here though, right away."
"I definitely will. Tell her I'll be there in a few minutes. Thank you," Enjolras says quickly even as he grabs his briefcase and starts walking quickly to the door. There are a thousand and one questions racing through his mind, ranging from whether Eponine and the baby will be fine, all the way to whatever twisted reason has brought his father to this city. This last problem has him reaching for his phone to contact Ari, but her phone does not ring. 'Has my father gotten to her too?' he wonders as he sends her a message informing her of this fact. The very idea is enough to make him feel sick, more so when he recalls Courfeyrac's story from over the weekend. Nevertheless he has to banish this from his mind, if only to keep calm as he rushes to his car and floors the gas pedal en route out of the parking lot.
Despite taking every possible shortcut to the neighbourhood of Saint Michel it still feels like an eternity for Enjolras till he finally catches sight of the familiar hospital facade. He parks the car in the first available space he finds and races into the emergency room, not even stopping to let the security guard at the door check his briefcase or ask him where he's going. Almost immediately he catches sight of Navet racing past with an armful of charts. "Navet, where is Eponine?" he asks frantically.
The young doctor nearly drops his load. "She's there-she just got back from her tests," he says, pointing to a screened off cubicle. "Combeferre is there too."
"Thanks, Navet," Enjolras calls even as he walks quickly towards this particular area. Despite what Musichetta has already told him, he feels as if his stomach drops at the sight of Eponine sitting up on a cot, biting her lip while Combeferre carefully injects some anaesthetic around a gash that runs from her left temple all the way to her forehead. Her hair is caked with blood and there are huge crimson stains all over the shoulders and neckline of her white shirt. All the same she quickly glances towards the sound of him pulling the curtain back. "Auguste!" she whispers, sitting up straight.
"Eponine, don't move," Combeferre warns, only to end up sighing when he realizes who has just entered the cubicle. "It's a shallow cut, but the problem with head wounds is that they tend to bleed profusely," he explains calmly.
It's all that Enjolras can do not to wince at this information but he takes Eponine's hand to try to help her calm down. "What happened?" he asks as he pushes her hair back from her face.
Eponine swallows hard before taking a few deep breaths. "Your dad showed up during my lunch break with an offer he thought I couldn't refuse," she finally says. She shakes her head as if trying to clear away the memory. "He said he'd help me get extra training and even pay for it, as long as I left you and got rid of our baby."
For a moment Enjolras is silent, even as he can feel fury welling up in his veins and threatening to spill from his lips. "Then what did you say?"
"I told him to leave me alone, but I probably should have told him to go to hell instead," Eponine replies. "That's the least he deserves after he slapped me and I hit my head on the counter."
"He just left her bleeding there on the floor, Enjolras. It was the restaurant owner who brought her here," Combeferre informs his best friend. "Now stay still. I need to stitch this up," he tells Eponine.
"How many stitches will you put in?" she asks in a small voice.
"Five, maybe six. It could be worse."
Eponine sighs as she leans back on the cot. "I hate this. You'd think I'd be used to this by now."
"You're not usually the one getting stitched up," Enjolras reminds her. He clasps her shoulder both to reassure her and keep her still as Combeferre gets to work. He can't bear to watch Combeferre actually suturing the wound, so he just focuses on looking at Eponine instead, checking if she is in more pain than she ought to be. Now and then she hisses and tries not to wince, and that's when he has to hold her more tightly. "Where are Musichetta and Joly?" he asks as soon as Combeferre ties off and cuts the last stitch.
"They are getting the initial results of the x-ray, but so far I think it looks good," Combeferre says.
"Isn't she supposed to avoid x-rays since she's pregnant?" Enjolras asks.
"The risk is less for a head x-ray, and well there's no faster way to make sure she didn't break anything. I think your kid is doing the best out of all of this-better than you," Combeferre says as he begins covering the stitches with gauze padding and tape.
"What do you mean?" Enjolras asks.
"You're nearly shaking, Auguste," Eponine whispers. "May I please borrow your stethoscope? I need to let him hear something," she asks Combeferre.
Combeferre gapes at her in disbelief. "I could just get you a Doppler machine. That's easier."
Eponine shakes her head, eliciting a knowing sigh from Combeferre as he hands over his stethoscope. She presses the stethoscope's bell to her abdomen and moves it around slowly, as if she is searching for something. After about a minute she smiles with relief before handing the earpiece to Enjolras. "Listen."
Enjolras looks at her confusedly as he dons the earpiece, but in a moment he picks up on a rapid tapping, akin to the sound of horses in full gallop. "Is that the baby moving?"
"That's his or her heartbeat. I probably won't be able to feel any kicking for a few more weeks yet," Eponine replies, smiling widely with glee and relief.
"It's really that fast?"
"Yeah. I figure that's about a hundred and forty beats per minute. It's good."
Enjolras listens in for a few moments longer, just to make sure he is hearing all of this properly, before he hands the stethoscope back to Combeferre. "That's incredible. I didn't know you could do that," he remarks incredulously.
"You can guess what I'll be doing up until this kid is born," Eponine laughs as she ruffles his hair. She waves as she sees Musichetta and Joly walking in, the latter holding an envelope from the radiology department. "Told you my head was perfectly sound."
"You're right about that. But since you did take a hard fall, you still need to be observed for a little longer-it's for the baby this time," Musichetta replies. She glances at her watch and at Enjolras. "You got here in record time. Very good."
"I know I broke the city speed limit," Enjolras mutters.
"That would be a first for you," Joly quips as he pulls up a seat for Musichetta. He looks more worriedly at Enjolras. "So are you going to haul your dad all the way to the courts for this?"
"A restraining order would be more straightforward," Enjolras answers. 'My mother will need one as well,' he realizes grimly even as he places another call to her phone. Much to his surprise she picks up after two rings. "Mom, did you get my message?" he asks quickly.
"I did. This is all just a sick joke, isn't it?" Ari replies, her voice growing more frantic with each word. "Please tell me you're just joking."
"I wouldn't ever joke about something like that." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "I haven't spoken to him yet, but he managed to get to Eponine. She's in the emergency room now."
"Oh no. Oh my God. Is she okay? What about your baby?" Ari shrieks.
"They're not in danger. Hopefully they'll be okay."
"Who told him I was here?"
"I don't know," Enjolras replies. "Where are you now?"
"At your Aunt Madeline's lakeside house. She invited me to see what she did to the place," Ari takes a deep breath, clearly fighting to remain in control. "So should I stay put in the meantime?"
"Yes, that might be best," Enjolras says. He's not about to risk another injury on his watch, especially since he does not know anything as to his father's present whereabouts. "Do you need me or someone to meet you someplace?"
"I'll be fine. You need to stay with Eponine," Ari insists. "Just keep me posted as to what Claude is doing. You take care of yourself too, dear."
"I will. Stay safe." Enjolras shuts his eyes for a moment when he hears the 'click' of the call ending. "My mother is staying with a family friend out of town, so she's safe for now," he tells Eponine and their friends. "No word from my father though."
Combeferre shakes his head. "Naturally. He's not going to start a confrontation unless he's sure of winning it."
"Fat chance," Eponine mutters as she shifts on the cot. "Do I really have to stay here in the ER all afternoon? I know what to watch out for and it's not like I'm having contractions or anything bad."
"She's got a point. This isn't the best place to stay if one intends to keep a wound clean and a baby safe," Joly offers.
"I guess you can go, as long as you head straight home and take it easy," Musichetta cautions. "I'm on call tonight, so you can reach me if you feel something is wrong."
Eponine smiles gratefully. "You guys are awesome. What do you think, Combeferre?"
"From a trauma standpoint, my work is done," Combeferre says, holding up his hands. He nods to Enjolras. "You have to help her out. I don't want her staying on her feet for too long."
"Will do. Thanks for everything," Enjolras says as he claps Combeferre's shoulder before letting his friend go off to finish writing up Eponine's chart so she can be discharged from the emergency room. He nearly starts on seeing Eponine lie back on the cot and shut her eyes. "Eponine, how are you feeling?"
She gives him a slight smile as she pats his hand. "It's just been a crazy day. What time is it?"
"It's not quite one in the afternoon."
"Really? Feels almost like past four to me."
Enjolras sneaks a kiss to her forehead before moving to sit next to her, since he feels his own adrenaline beginning to wear off. It's only now that it's sinking in how close he's come to losing his partner and their child thanks to his father's spite, and he can't help but inch even closer to her thanks to this very thought. Having her risk her life in her line of work is one thing that he's prepared for, but this incident has put everything in a whole new ball court.
Within half an hour Combeferre gives them the go-ahead to return home, as well as some antibiotics for Eponine's injury. Eponine is quiet but alert for most of the drive home, frantically sending text messages. "So much for plans today-I had consultations lined up even at the halfway house," she gripes as she pockets her phone. "Now you're stuck too, with me."
"I wouldn't call it being stuck if you're involved," Enjolras points out as he parks the car in their usual space in the basement parking lot. The truth is that he's not sure he can focus on work for the rest of the day, especially while things are so uncertain. "It's not as if we can make much headway yet in the case we're both working on."
"We have to give Clara time. She has to heal too," she says as she unbuckles her seatbelt. "Maybe tomorrow I'll get Chetta to help me there."
"Is Chetta even going to allow you back on the floor just yet?"
"She will. I have my ways."
Enjolras smirks knowingly as they head upstairs to their apartment. Once they are inside, Eponine unbuttons her stained shirt and tosses it to the floor before going off to the bathroom. He wordlessly follows her there, stopping when he sees her scrutinizing her reflection in the mirror. "I bet it looks hideous under the gauze," she whispers.
"Stop that," he chides as he pulls her into his arms and then plants a kiss on her cheek, just under the bandage. He places his palm on her midsection, wishing for a moment that they could feel some sort of movement there. "I don't care how it looks, as long as you and our baby are safe."
Eponine squeezes his fingers before reaching over to turn on the faucet. "Seriously though, what was your father thinking? Did he really believe he could just throw money at me like that, just to get me out of your life?"
He heaves a deep sigh as he gets a washcloth to help her get all the dried blood out of her hair. "He's bought loyalties before."
"So what does he do when people actually need his help?"
"He does whatever works—at least whatever doesn't give him enemies openly."
Eponine snorts as she continues washing her hair. "What's this, an 'I scratch your back, you scratch mine' situation?"
"You could put it that way," Enjolras says in a level tone, even as he tries not to smirk at the absurd mental image this brings to mind. "But this is going far, even for him."
"He never hit you, or Ari. Something is going on," she points out grimly as she begins scrubbing blood off her face and her neck.
"It still doesn't excuse his actions," he says adamantly as he holds back her wet hair away from her face. "Are you going to have to do this till your wound heals up?" he asks after a while when she turns off the water and straightens up.
"I can shower as usual tomorrow," she says while she searches the medicine cabinet for a shower cap. She suddenly turns around and kisses him deeply, running her damp hands through his hair as he holds her close, just the way he's wanted to all afternoon. "I can take it from here. Thank you," she whispers against his lips.
"Anytime" he promises as he lets go of her so she can continue to wash up. He then goes off to change into more comfortable clothes, and then fetches his laptop so he can check his email and catch up on some paperwork. 'We really need to get a bigger place by the end of the year,' he realizes on seeing how their coffee table is piled high with books, papers, and other sundry. As it is he can't imagine where they can squeeze in a bassinet or a crib in this apartment.
Just as he opens his browser to begin his search, he hears urgent knocking on the door. He gets up to open the door a crack, only to clench his fist when he is met with an icy blue gaze. "You've got a lot of nerve to visit now," he says slowly.
"I'm not dropping in. I need to locate your mother. I know that you've been in contact with her," Claude says brusquely.
"There's a reason she's not dealing with you," Enjolras says as he steps out and shuts the door behind him. "I'm sure that it is related to the fact that my wife now has a head injury after you accosted her."
A cruel smile spreads over Claude's face. "What can I say? Pregnant women slip."
Enjolras glares at him, feeling nothing but utter revulsion. "Is that all you have to say to it? You not only suggested that she leave, but you ask her to kill a baby, your own grandchild?"
"A slut of her calibre will attach herself to the best opportunity available to her. I am only facilitating her choices," Claude sneers.
"I'm sure that leaving her in need of medical attention is an effective means of persuasion," Enjolras retorts dryly as he takes a step forward and crosses his arms.
"She's dragging you down, Auguste. Her, those friends of yours, everything." The older man shakes his head as he gives his son a look of disgust. "Do you think you're actually changing anything for the ilk you're fighting for? You only continue to disappoint me."
"I am not looking for your approval." Enjolras sees Claude's lip twist dangerously but this only adds impetus for what he has to say. "Your disapproval is something I have learned to countenance over the years—except when it results in injustice, in whatever form. Then it will be only right that I oppose you."
"You insolent-"Claude snarls as he tries to grab Enjolras' arm but he suddenly pales as he looks towards the apartment. "You. I thought you were-"
"Hospitalized or something worse? I'm sorry to disappoint you," Eponine chimes in from where she is now standing in the apartment doorway, holding up her phone to capture the scene before her. She pockets the gadget before going over to shove him away from the door. "You should leave before this thing becomes viral."
Claude is livid as he stares at her. "You stay out of this. I'm here to talk to my son."
"Actually you dragged her into this, starting this lunchtime," Enjolras says coldly. He steps forward and grabs Claude's fist before he can strike again. "Now go before I have to call security to show you the way out of this building."
"How dare you do this to your own father?" Claude roars.
"A good thing you remember the fact, but it's too late for that," Enjolras says as he lets go of Claude's arm. "You will not come near anyone in my family, or threaten them in any way. I will make sure of it."
"You seriously cannot take me to court over this. It will be her word against mine," Claude taunts him. "Who's going to trust her?"
"Anyone who can see the evidence for themselves," Eponine says as she discreetly grabs Enjolras' arm. "We're certainly not seeing you around though!"
Enjolras doesn't even wait for what his father has to say to this, but he takes the opportunity to drag Eponine into their apartment and shut the door. "Did you really get a video of that?" he asks breathlessly over the sound of Claude beginning to rage and swear in the hall.
Eponine nods gleefully. "We're not responsible for what my siblings or our friends will do once they get wind of this." She rolls her eyes on hearing a particularly vile expression. "Maybe we should call security before he does scare the neighbours."
"No need to; there's a good CCTV in the hall," Enjolras points out. Much to his relief the imprecations have now died down into the sound of footsteps fading away. "You're going to have to be careful with that footage though-it can cause some serious trouble if it does go viral," he says.
"Trouble for him, you mean?"
"Yes and maybe some."
She takes a deep breath as she steps forward and hugs him tightly. "You finally told him exactly what he needed to hear, after all these years," she says, smiling proudly at him. "You got him good there."