(Thank you all so much for your reviews and support. Means a lot. I was actually planning on updating my other story, but this just wouldn't let go of me. Hope you like it!)

Combeferre woke up to the sound of a loud clattering. He had fallen asleep late the previous night after wondering and worrying about the boy he had put in his bed after he had collapsed from exhaustion. The boy had been sleeping sound for the whole night and Combeferre had moved to his sofa to make himself more comfortable. Apparently, had had fallen asleep there.

When he opened his eyes he saw the boy stumbling around the room. He picked up the kettle that had fallen on the floor and then looked apologetically at the medical student. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you", he said quietly.

Combeferre watched the boy grab his jacket from the floor and looked at the clock on the wall. It was only seven o'clock in the morning. Surely the boy did not have to be anywhere at this hour. "That's quite alright", he said in response, "are you going somewhere?"

The boy nodded shortly. "I am indeed. I've been making use of your hospitality for far too long I'm afraid. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful and as I said, I will pay you back as soon as possible. But I'm feeling better now and it's time for me to go. I've got things to do and I don't wish to be any kind of bother to you any longer monsieur."

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. "You've hardly been a bother, kid. All you did was sleep." He highly doubted the blonde was feeling any better. He didn't look better at all. He was panting slightly; he had a feverish kind of blush on his cheeks and he was obviously limping, even though he tried his very best to hide it. On top of that, he had an arm draped around his torso constantly to keep it from moving too much.

"In your bed monsieur, which was very rude of me", the boy said, while turning around and stumbling towards the door. He leaned heavily against the doorframe for a second, catching his breath and said: "Thank you again monsieur, for your kindness. Have a good day."

Before he could close the door behind him however, Combeferre spoke up. "Wait just a minute! There can't be much for you to be doing at this hour. You have not eaten anything yet; you've hardly any clothes on you and have you looked outside?" It was snowing and undoubtedly freezing cold. "Where on earth do you have to go right now? You told me yesterday your parents don't live here and you don't have your own place to stay. You can barely walk and you look like you're about to collapse any second."

The boy gave him an icy look. "I don't think any of that is of your concern monsieur." And with that he closed the door and was gone, leaving a confused Combeferre behind. He let himself fall back on the sofa with a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. Why would he be this concerned anyway. It wasn't like he knew the kid or was in any way obligated to help him. Accept perhaps for his own feeling of obligation to help anyone in need of medical care. Yet he couldn't shake that strange protective feeling he had had ever since he had laid eyes on the boy.

He scratched his head and then stood up. He was awake now. Might as well get some work to do before classes start, he thought. Today would be a long one. He had classes until three and then he had to assist at the hospital until seven.

While he tried desperately to memorize the location of each muscle in the human body, his mind kept going back to the blonde boy wandering the snowy streets of Paris injured and in nothing more than an undershirt and jacket. Stop it Combeferre, he thought. You don't even know him. You've offered him a place to stay; food to eat. If he doesn't want your help, there 's not much else you can do. But no matter what he told himself, he couldn't shake that worried feeling.

The day crept by very slowly. Classes were not nearly as fascinating as they had been so far, although that might had more to do with Combeferre's interest being somewhere else than in the pro's and con's of bloodletting. His work at the hospital was limited to ordering papers and guiding patients to their beds. He wasn't allowed to do anything else yet, since he was only a medical student in his first year.

Then the clock finally stroke seven and he could go home. He tightened his jacket around him and hid as much of his face as possible in his shawl to keep the sharp cold out. He sure hoped and prayed the boy had found a warm place to stay for the night.

He only had to walk a short distance to his apartment and he wouldn't have to leave again until the day after tomorrow, because he didn't have classes or work the next day. He was in such a hurry to get back inside he almost missed the curly-haired boy leaning against the apartment building. He was looking firmly to the ground and tried to get the shivers running through his body under control. Which of course he couldn't.

Combeferre was surprised to say the least, momentarily lost for words. He eyed the boy from head to toe. God, he thought, he looks awful. Then the blonde raised his head. He had dark smudges under his eyes, which were glazed over by fever and exhaustion, but he still had that proud and defiant look. He cleared his throat and said: "I tried to get you back the money I owe you for letting me stay last night, but I couldn't find anyone who would give me work." He hesitated and looked to the ground again. "I don't normally ask for favours. Especially not from people I don't know and certainly not when I can't repay them for their services. But I don't have a place to stay and honestly, I don't feel very well and you are the only person in Paris I know. And trust." He added those last words with a small smile.

Combeferre felt his heart jump a little. A warm feeling spreading through his body and only because the boy had come back to him because he trusted him. He then realised he still hadn't said anything. "Uh, yes, of course you can stay. I'm actually really glad you came back. You had me worrying all day." He didn't mean to say that, but it just slipped out. The boy frowned at that. "Why? You don't even know me."

The medical student didn't answer that. He motioned for the boy to follow him up the stairs towards his apartment. As he expected, the blonde refused any help. In front of the door they paused. Combeferre turned around to face him: "You can stay on one condition. You have to let me check you over. I know you're hurt and sick, despite your efforts to hide it from me."

The boy looked at Combeferre with wide eyes. "I'm a medical student", he added. The blonde pursed his lips and nodded. "Fine, if it matters to you that much. I don't owe you any explanations however." Combeferre frowned and looked at the boy sceptically. "Very well", he said, "May I at least know your name, or should I just call you 'kid'?"

'Kid' scowled and growled he was nearly fifteen years old and therefore certainly not a child. "My name is Enjolras", he then said.

"Alright, Enjolras, welcome back to my humble apartment. My name is Combeferre and I'm turning eighteen in a few months." He then opened the door and led Enjorlas inside. He couldn't explain that amused, comfortable and excited feeling filling his heart when his blonde companion smiled shyly at him.

Enjolras went straight for the sofa, but Combeferre grabbed him gently by the shoulders and steered him towards his bed. Enjolras was about to protest but Combeferre held up his hand, silencing him successfully. When he had placed the blonde on the bed, he threw a blanket around his shaking shoulders and then he started looking for his medical supplies. He felt Enjolras watch his every move.

He returned to the bed with water, bandages, thread and needle, some sort of soothing lotion and Laudanum. He noticed Enjolras' nervous swallow and rapid blinking and suppressed a smile. He might be nearly fifteen but he definitely still has a fear for doctors. "Don't worry, I have a very gentle touch", he said winking friendly. It earned him another smile.

"I noticed you were holding you're torso earlier, may I remove your shirt for a minute to examine?" Enjolras hesitatingly put a hand around his ribs and averted his eyes. "It was our deal, remember?", Combeferre said softly. The blonde looked back up, nodded and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Combeferre couldn't hold back the gasp once the boy's body was shirtless. He was covered in bruises. Black and blue. And there were several cuts as well. Enjolras bit his lip and looked away.

"Mon Dieu", he breathed and he gently placed a hand on the boy's arm. "How did this happen?" he asked and he searched Enjolras' face to make eye contact. Enjolras looked up, eyes filled with tears he did not want to shed. "No explanations, that was our deal remember?", he whispered. He took a shaky breath and turned his head away from Combeferre.

The medical student opened his mouth but closed it again. The kid barely knew him. Of course he would not push him if he didn't want to tell. So instead he nodded and got back to work. He gently prodded the skin, searching for any broken bones – which luckily weren't there, although there were some severely bruised ribs – and cleaned and bandaged the small cuts. Combeferre apologized every time his patient hissed or gasped at the pain.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?", Combeferre asked, hoping he wouldn't be, but remembering the limp the boy had earlier. Enjolras motioned towards his feet. "The ankle?", Combeferre asked. Enjolras once again only nodded. Fortunately his ankle was only twisted and should heal well without any bandages or splint.

He then opened the bottle of Laudanum and poured some of the liquid in a small cup. "Here, drink this", he said when he put the cup in Enjolras' hand.

"What is it?", the blonde asked.

"It's called Laudanum, you've probably heard of it? It takes the pain away and helps you sleep. You need to sleep."

For the first time since they met, Enjolras didn't protest. He swallowed the medicine, wincing at its bitter taste and looked at Combeferre again. "Thank you", he whispered.

The older boy smiled sympathetically and covered the boy with a blanket. "Get some rest. And no sneaking out tomorrow morning. You're staying here at least until I say you're well enough to go." He meant it. There was no way he was letting the kid leave now. Not after what he had seen.

Enjolras didn't say anything, but only closed his eyes. He was asleep within seconds. Combeferre gently pulled a hand through the boy's curls. He still had to clean some of the dirt away, but it could wait. Sleep was what the kid needed the most now. So, he silently stood and put away the medical supplies. It was still fairly early, so he went to his desk and decided to work on his studies, looking back to the young patient in his bed every other minute. Just to make sure he was still there.

TBC.

(Another chapter done. Hope you liked it! Please let me know and review. I'm dying to know what you think of this chapter!)