Capable of being Terrible Enjolras/Grantaire

Part 11- The Call

OH MY GOD it's been so long. I actually got to go see  Les Mis with my friend and it was amazing! Hope you all enjoy this.

       Some how Enjolras had made it to a two months. He called Grantaire everyday, but never got a response. He only knew he was alive because of Eponine. They had tried to explain it all to him, but something had happened. He made them promise to never leave him alone. 

      He had lost his right leg. They said it was the best chance to stop it from spreading to his upper body, since they had gotten most of the cancer out of his upper body already. They said he could fly back for a little, but for two weeks at the max (with regular chemo at a different doctor). He was going to see Grantaire.

   Enjolras understood that R would probably never want to see him, never want to talk to him again. But he had to try. He hated flying. With a passion, but he hated being away from his family and Grantaire more. So he sucked it up, and let the little kids stare at his fake leg and his bald head. 

   Eponine picked him up, and took him to the coffee shop. He was going to see Grantaire. Enjolras worried though. About what he might see, and what Grantaire might see in him. He had a beanie on, the only way to keep his head warm. He was wearing shorts, and a red shirt. Same thing he wore when he first met Grantaire. 

     "Okay... now!" Cosette whispered, and Enjolras did his best to walk with the crutches and went up to the counter. 

    Grantaires hair was longer now. Longer and messy, and his eyes had dark circles. "What can I get for you?" 

   But Enjolras couldn't say anything. He stared at the love of his life in front of him, and almost wept.  "H-hi R." 

    His head snapped up, anger in his eyes. The anger diminished the second he saw the state of Enjolras. He tilted his head at the beanie, so Enjolras took it off, revealing his bald head. 

    "R, your shift is over." 

   They walked silently over to a booth, Grantaire staring at his leg the whole time. 

   "Why didn't you tell me?" Before walking into the shop Enjolras told himself he wouldn't cry, but at hearing the words crushed him.

 "I know, I know I'm awful and I should've said something but I was too scared and I love you so much. I called you everyday, and-"

  "You should have told me, I could've-"

"Hold on. Do you know how... how bad it is? The cancer?"

"You're not allowed to die." Grantaire was sobbing, and he pulled out a cigarette, something he had quit (or told Enjolras he had quit) months ago.  

"It's not bad. I mean, it's awful, but I should be good. And I want to make everything that I possibly can up to you. I should have told you. I guess I didn't because I thought I was sparing you, but I was really only sparing myself.  I didn't know I was capable of being terrible to you." 

      At the end of the second week, Enjolras realized how bad Grantaire had gotten. How much he drank, how his thighs were cut up. And it was all Enjolras' fault. He did his best to help, but he was so weak from the chemo and tired, which almost helped Grantaire more. Now he had a mission, a purpose. 

     Grantaire came with him to the airport. Enjolras was about to turn to say goodbye when suddenly Grantaire pulled something out of his pocket.