The Things That Make you Happy (e/R)

Recovery

Éponine's apartment was only three streets further. By the time they arrived by her doorstep, it was fully dark and Grantaire was exhausted. He knew he couldn't complain, seeing as the boy next to him had lord knows how many stitches, but is was pretty tiring to carry someone almost as big as himself by the arm for three long streets. He didn't know if Enjolras was still conscious, but his legs were limping along, so he guessed so. He rang the doorbell and heard footsteps softly approaching on the other side. He was still looking around all the time, those men could've followed them or find them any second.

The door opened a small bit, only for the girl's head to pop out. She looked surprised when she saw the two and widened the door immediately. Grantaire didn't hesitate to rush inside and drag the other boy with him. Éponine closed the door and looked at them in horror.

"So how're ya doing? Has your fever slowed down yet?" At least he could try to break the mood.

"What is happening here, R." He sighed.

"Help me get him to a bed. I'll explain everything I know, I promise."

And she did. Her apartment was small, but Grantaire knew every corner in every room from being here so much. He guessed that's what you got from only having one friend...

Together, they laid Enjolras down on the bed in the guest room, usually reserved for Grantaire, for when they didn't sleep in one bed. The boy coughed and breathed heavily but he looked asleep. "The wound didn't reopen, the stitches are still there. I think it just hurts from moving the wound and running, he's not moved like this in a long time. He should be okay sleeping it off and resting." He said while trying to remember what Joly had said. The young medic was still in training and whenever the group was hanging out in the hospital, he always blurted out random information he knew about stitch wounds. Usually, Enjolras gave a pained chuckle and replied 'good to know' while all Combeferre did was nod in agreement.

"R." He knew it. He slowly turned away from Enjolras to Éponine, who looked at him with her arms crossed. "I did what you asked. The boy's sleeping in the bed. Now tell me, what's going on." She sounded pissed. "Fine." He explained what had happened and wondered if all of it had really happened in one day. Once he was done, his friend had a few complaints. "You know, straight home and bedrest, means straight home and bedrest, especially if that was the advice of the hospital."

"I couldn't, Ep, he looked so in need of just being outside, I couldn't-"

"It was doctor's orders, R! You can't just ignore that! I love you but I don't wanna be in on all this. I'm still sick myself, I can't-.. I can't, R." She looked like she was sorry, and also just really, really tired.

Grantaire knew this wasn't her fight, and he shouldn't have involved her in the first place. "I'm sorry, Ép... I didn't mean to drag you into this. We'll move out tomorrow morning."

She sighed and gave his shoulder a pat. "Let's just all get some sleep until we actually start killing each other, alright?" When Grantaire nodded she smiled a little. "Good, now, please don't start drinking and take a shower please. You stink."

That made him grin in return.

Grantaire sat down on a chair with a deep sigh when Éponine had closed the door. Then he bowed forward, and pulled out a bottle of scotch form under his old bed, in which Enjolras was sleeping now. Just one sip wouldn't hurt. 

"I thought she said she didn't want you to drink."

"I thought you were asleep."