30Lovlies! I know... I've been a terrible terrible TERRIBLE person for keeping you all so long... But school, life, it often gets in the way... BUT now I am out for summer, SO I promise you that there will be more updates sooner! I promise!
But here is the infamous meeting I promised you what, fourteen years ago? I know... long time ago... BUT if you want updates sooner... REVIEW FOR PEETY SAKE!
Warning: Nothing really, just fluff and cheese
Disclaimer: Still not mine
Combeferre smiled, tapping the doorframe slightly with a closed fist. "Always mon Amis, always.
"Gav, stop fiddling with your collar. Courf, that goes for you as well." Éponine chided, glaring at the young man as she knelt to fix her brother's shirt.
"But Ponine, it's so tight! Why do I hafta wear this?" The young boy complained, fixing her with his best puppy dog eyes.
"Because Gav, we're in a very nice place and we have to look our best. This means a lot to Enjolras that we're all here looking nice." She gently reminded him. "Besides, you get to wear your medal, isn't that a good thing?"
The little boy thought for a moment before nodding. Éponine , happy she quelled her brother's fidgeting, rose and turned to the young men behind her to do the same for them.
"Alright, Courf, hands away from the collar or I will remove your musical collection from our movie shelf one by one very slowly and in un-repairable ways."
Color drained from his cheeks, but his childlike nature kept the complaint coming.
"But Pon, it's so tight! I could suffocate! I could die! Youch!" He frowned towards Bahorel who had given him a well deserved smack across the crown of his head.
"You're not going to die you lump, you're going to put up with the fact it's the first time you've been in an oxford that's been buttoned in almost a half decade and you're going to support Enj without complaining." Grantiare drilled off, his head not leaving his hand as he lazily sat in an arm chair closest the door which their fearless leader had entered nearly a half hour ago.
When the group arrived, Lemarque's wife greeted them at the door and ushered them into a large study space. One bookshelf styled door was open towards the back of the room and once they were all assembled, Lemarque's disembodied voice flowed through and called Enjolras to his back office. With only a shoulder squeeze from Combeferre and reassuring looks from the rest of them, he entered the office and with futher instrution, shut the door behind him.
"D'you think he's getting in trouble?" Marius asked, scratching at the bandage that was still wrapped around his torso, his crutch for his ankle was leaning against one of the wrapping bookshelves.
"No you dunce." Courfeyac quipped. "He's getting something, but it's definitely not trouble."
"And stop scratiching at that! You could get infected! Who knows where that cructch has been and you've been touching it all day and this room! Who know's the last time someone disinfected all of the books and the shelfs and the dust! The dust! Boussette, did we bring allergy medication? Chetta?" Joly started to hyperventilate, reaching for and clutching onto his lovers when the got to his side. The young hypoconriac was also relying on a crutch because of his ankle, but Musichetta had carefully disinfected his before he got out of the hospital.
"Joly, you are fine. Marius, Joly's right, stop scratching. Now shush, I'm trying to listen!" Grantaire chided again, leaning closer to the door.
"Taire, there is no way you can hear through that book shelf." Éponine drawled, lowering herself onto Combeferre's lap.
"Maybe he's listening to the words of the pages! I often find falling asleep on a book opens more doors to creativity than anything else." Jehan hummed, leaning happily against Courfeyac's leg.
The would be collective sigh was never realeased. After everything that had happened, and after the ordeal that Jehan went through that nearly cost them their little poet, the group began to appreciate his little tid bits that much more.
Despite the doctor's positivity and Courfeyac's early thought that Jehan hadn't sustained any internal injuries aside from bruised ribs, the X-Ray scan picked up several cracked ribs and further tests showed that he had a ruptured spleen to boot due to the heavy kicks he received to the back while their prisoner.
The group all gathered in Enjolras' room again to wait out the surgery, with exception of Combeferre who had been allowed to be near the OR and be the first to report back.
It was long and agonizing and no one had heard anyone wail like Courfeyac did when Combeferre returned after hour three, teary eyed to relay there were some complications and it was a bigger rupture than originally thought.
Another three hours passed before the surgeon appeared in the cramped hospital room. With the worse feared, the reassuring smile that broke across the older woman's face brought tears of joy around the room, and Courfeyac actually threw himself into the surgeon's arms, thanking her profusely.
When he had finally woken up after surgery, the first thing he did was recite one of his poems about the beauty of an ever blooming vine (No matter the knife, no matter the winter, the fruit will arrive if only swifter). Courfeyac burst into tears once again.
No, the group would not be sighing or rolling their eyes anytime soon about anything that came out of the poet's mouth.
So where Grantaire's creative doors might've been bursting off their hinges at the moment as he strained to hear the meeting, the bookshelf door was a fortified barrier to the conversation within the small study.
With his nerves still on high alert and his heart racing at dangerous speeds (especially in his current medical state.), Enjolras stood stock still for a moment after been ushered into the small room, the door swinging slowly shut behind him.
Professor Lemarque was busy writing something at his desk, his glasses were askew on his withered face and the ink of his pen was being drawn gracefully across an already mostly written letter.
The grandfather clock which stood ominously behind his right shoulder ticked dreadfully loud as the seconds turned into what Enjolras considered to be hours, but truly it was only about thirty seconds before Lemarque smiled at his last remark on the page and stored his pen before looking up to greet his young guest.
"Ah, Gabriel, you look well! Are you and your friends healing along then? I am shocked you're all here so soon after everything, I understand one of your friends underwent major surgery a fortnight ago." Lemarque finished and gestured for Enjolras to take the seat in front of the desk.
"Um, yes, Jehan, er, Jean Prouvaire, he was the one they held hostage during the fight and they roughed him up a bit. We thought it was only a bruised abdomen and that we'd be here sooner, but he had a ruptured spleen."
"Goodness, my dear boy, I hope my letter didn't seem too demanding, no one's on death's doorstep outside in my library are they?" Lemarque chuckled at the boy's seriousness, a light twinkle in his eye.
"Oh, no sir, Jehan is ok today, still a little soar and Courf frets every time he frowns, but he's alright."
"Courf?"
Enjolras flushed scarlet. "Oh, er, my friend, Antoine de Courfeyac, he's, er, he's Jehan's boyfriend."
"Ah, yes, of course. He's one of boys that found Father Colm."
"Yes, sir, him and Joly."
Lemarque assessed the boy for a moment, taking in his sweating brow and his trembling hands. The old man tilted his head in contemplative silence for a moment longer before he spoke again.
"Gabriel, is there a reason you are so nervous to speak to me today?"
The scarlet flush returned.
"No, sir, it's just."
"Gabriel," He rose from his seat to stand by the window, Enjolras strained to see that outside was the very spot he held the first protest revolving around the barricade's cause. "I've watched you give protests again and again both on the News and in person when you gave me a private viewing after my most recent medical dilemma. I watched you take over the parade and I heard you build your barricade. I heard the story recounted that you still bravely in front of, for lack of a better word, a firing squad for the safety of your friends and the strength in your belief. Gabriel Enjolras, I've watched you grow from a trouble-searching teenager to an extremely passionate and powerful young man. You led your friends bravely and never gave up on your belief that every student deserves an education, tuition be damned."
If eyes could pop out of one's skull, Enjolras' blue orbs would be rolling pathetically around Lemarque's desk, his lolling jaw still hanging slack at his feet like some cartoon.
Lemarque chuckled at the student's reaction.
"Gabriel, a lot of students have passed through my introductory class for political justice and have moved on without a care in the world, but you, you were there and ready to work from day one. Gabriel, you took this cause, a cause I have been advocating at this university for years and never have made as much of a dent or impact as you and your friends have in less than forty-eight hours.
"Never have I seen any student give as much dedication for anything than you and your friends did at the barricades. It is because of this that not only all of the scholarship students get their funds back, but also the administration is in serious talks to abolish tuition all together.
"Gabriel I am so incredibly proud of you."
Enjolras couldn't speak, couldn't control the tear that rolled down his normally stoic face and could barely manage the 'thank you' he managed to breath out as he looked onto his mentor, his inspiration, his father-figure in awe.
The old man's wrinkled face cracked into warm smile.
"Come, let's rejoin your friends so they don't think I've expelled you."
Enjolras let out a nervous bout of laughter. "I doubt they think that."
"Gabriel, I've had most, if not all of them in my classroom or in my office at some point in your academic career, don't think I don't know exactly what you've all feared would come out of this meeting." He paused and thought for a moment. "Well, that one with the glasses will have probably led to be calm, but come," he extended his hand towards the young man who rose to join him at the door. "Let's greet them with the good news."
The group had managed to entertain themselves (without breaking anything) with the small library for the entire forty-five minutes Enjolras was in the study.
Feuilly had found a wastebasket full of crumpled newspaper and began making various shapes and creatures from the paper. Bahorel found an old stack of cards in his jacket pocket and dealt in Courfeyac, Bousset, Cosette, Musichetta, and Gavroche for a riveting game of BS. Marius and Joly were sat adjacent to each other, discussing the pain of their fractured limbs while Jehan sat at their feet, doodling and crafting poems on their casts. Éponine was still in Combeferre's lap, eyes closed in though, her hand gently carding through his sandy locks. Combeferre was balancing her and a book he had found lying open on one of the coffee tables.
While the group all mingled and bided their time, Grantaire remained at the door to the study, straining his ear and praying he could listen into the conversation. When the door opened, Grantaire was the first on his feet.
Lemarque surveyed the group and smiled at them all. The group in return looked between the elderly professor and their leader, who, despite the lack of color in his cheeks, was also smiling.
"I am sure you are all wondering what I had to say to your leader in private." He began slowly; surveying each member and taking into account his or her injuries, despite the level of healing.
"I commend each and every one of you for your dedication to each other and to this cause. Are any of you on financial aid?"
He wasn't surprised to see the young woman with the dark brown hair and the ginger paper folder stand, hands raised.
"It's because of this cause that both of you can finish your education without monetary fear and it's because of all of you that future students may not even have to worry about that at all. So I thank you students, you've helped a lot of students toady."
Éponine had tears in her eyes and Feuilly was beaming. The rest were awe struck to hear what their stupidity had led to. Lemarque simply smiled, until his gaze found Grantaire, standing nervously by the chair he occupied for the better part of an hour.
"You're the one with the speech aren't you, Nicholas Grantaire. The one that brought the people back."
Everyone held their breath and Grantaire's cheeks turned blood red, his eyes darting to the floor.
"Yes, sir, that was me."
Lemarque nodded slowly. "Nicholas, I've seen you in just as many of my classes as Gabriel here and I've read your papers on your beliefs on society. Needless to say I was quite shocked to see what you had to say at the remains of your barricade that morning."
The blood that had rushed to Grantaire's cheeks darkened, Éponine feared he might start crying, if there was anything Grantaire hated, it was being the center of attention (sober at least.).
This didn't go unnoticed by Lemarque, but the old man finally smiled.
"You've found something to believe in then Nicholas?"
Grantaire finally looked up, looked up to see all of his friends, standing well and alive, looked up to see his leader, smiling. It was then he cracked his own small smile.
"Yes, sir, I certainly have."
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Until next time lovelies!