Hi There! Here's the third chapter ;) Merci beaucoup Starishadow and my sis E ;)

R

"He has a concussion; three ribs broken, two cracked; loads of bruises; and the cut on his forehead requires stitches..." Enjolras sucked in a sharp breath, as Joly looked up at him

"I'd prefer to patch him up somewhere..." he looked around, searching for the right word. "…cleaner". The leader nodded.

"We can go to my place, it's nearby," he said weakly.

Grantaire felt dizzy. His head was throbbing, his vision was swimming, and his torso was on fire. He tried to concentrate on what Joly was saying, but at the moment his words didn't make any sense. He looked up at Enjolras, who, as he noticed, surprised, was standing next to him, with a hand on his back. Before he could do anything about it (not that he minded), Joly crouched down to face him.

"R, we're going to get you to Enjolras' place, okay? So that I can patch you up" he said clearly. Grantaire, once he had finally understood, nodded, and instantly regretted the action as a wave of nausea exploded in his stomach.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur. He remembered Joly's and Enjolras' hands helping him up and guiding him to the door, as his ribs screamed in protest, which he chose to ignore – it wasn't as if it was the first time he had broken a rib, right?

He remembered a sudden wave of wind that he felt when they opened the door, getting in a car, and then, he supposed, he had drifted off to sleep - as soon as his head touched the headrest. When he woke up, he was lying on something soft and comfortable. He tried to get up, but firm - yet gentle - hands held him down. He looked up to see Enjolras' pale form standing beside him. He looked worried, if not panicked ('Oh come on, it's Enjolras, he doesn't panic,' he thought to himself). Joly, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen, but Grantaire thought he might be preparing stuff to get him 'patched up', as the med student had put it. The artist looked around his unfamiliar surroundings and he realised he must be at Enjolras' place. He hadn't been there before, so he figured he should use the occasion, since he could. The room they were in was huge. Really, the whole space was bigger than his family's house, if he could even call it that.

It was square shaped, two opposite walls were painted red, and the others black (no surprises there), the windows were gigantic, and Grantaire suspected that during the day the light here was astounding. He was lying on a black couch, and that was all he could notice before Joly came in through the door that led to the bathroom, which he caught a glimpse of when the student opened it. He was carrying a bowl, most likely filled with water, a cloth and a box. He handed the bowl and cloth to Enjolras and told him to clean his forehead from blood, as he prepared his medical equipment.

Enjolras dipped the cloth in the lukewarm water, and gingerly started cleansing the wound. He hoped beyond hope that he didn't cause Grantaire much more pain. He felt kind of hesitant, not sure if he liked the idea of stitching up the artist on his couch. Not that he minded him lying there, no, he just thought he'd feel better if Grantaire was being taken care of in a regular hospital with regular doctors. Ok, Joly was a medicine student, but still - he was a student, what if something went wrong? He let off a shaky breath. Joly surely knew what he was doing, he told himself. He should stop panicking and have more faith in his friends. All his friends.

Grantaire's gasp of pain shook him out of it. He realised he was pressing the cloth to the gash too hard.

"Sorry" he muttered.

"Ok, Enjolras... Give me that..." Joly said, and he put the bowl down on the coffee table. He followed Joly's line of sight and saw with dread that he was looking at the needle. Hesitantly, he reached for it.

"Won't you knock him out or something?' asked Enjolras shakily. Ok, now he really didn't like the idea.

"I can't, he has a concussion," came the feared response. He looked back at his patient and sighed.

"Here, when you feel pain, bite down of this as hard as you can." Grantaire did not answer, because Joly had just put a wad of fabric into his mouth and he preferred not to nod. Joly threaded the needle and looked at Enjolras, who looked disgusted at the medieval circumstances the operation was to be performed under. His face became even more repulsed when Joly made him part of it:

"Hold him still."

well

I'm sorry XD

R&R please

R

ps. Doesn't it look awesome? R&R R XDDDD