Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"'Ferre, Enj, look, look, look!" someone shouted happily from the other side of the road. Combeferre watched how an excited Courfeyrac stood jumping up and down on the sidewalk, waving at them with one arm and grinning from ear to ear. He was only just in time to grab Enjolras by his small shoulders to prevent the young boy from running across the street without looking.

"Watch out, Julien!" Combeferre snapped, heart beating loud and fast in his chest when honking cars sped by them. "What did I tell you? We always look three times before crossing the streets!" He held a firm hold on his young friend's shoulder and uttered a frustrated sigh. It was a miracle that the child was still in one piece with all the stunts he pulled. He was always careless and reckless when he was out and Combeferre sometimes wondered if it had something to do with his extremely strict upbringing.

Enjolras looked up at his older friend with wide eyes and a defiant frown as if he had no idea why Combeferre was snapping at him. He crossed his small arms in front of his chest and sulkily kicked at a small rock. "I did look... 'M not stupid 'Ferre. I looked real good."

Combeferre shook his head and move the hand on Eniolras' shoulder to the nape of his young friend's neck, letting it rest there. He felt small tremors go through Enjolras' body and a half smile tugged at his lips. He knew Enjolras had scared himself as well. "You know just as well as I do that you did not look. Don't scare me like that Julien. I'm not as young as you, my heart is much more vulnerable."

Combeferre smiled when he heard Enjolras chuckle brightly and he was satisfied that that shocked expression was replaced by a cheerful one. He loved it when he could make Enjolras smile.

"You're joking 'Ferre, I know you're not that old," Enjolras laughed, looking up at his older friend to catch the playful wink Combeferre gave him before turning his attention back to the boy on the other side of the road. "What does Courf have on his arm?"

Combeferre readjusted his backpack and turned a little more concerned. Just before the weekend, on Friday afternoon, Courfeyrac had fallen down the stairs and broke his arm. Combeferre knew, because Courfeyracs parents had called him to let him know. The older boy was somewhat of a guardian to the two boys and he always brought them to their school before going to his own. To some it may seem odd that a boy of fourteen spent so much time with two boys five years younger than him, but Combeferre loved them and he didn't mind hanging out with them at all. He saw himself as an older brother of some sort. Especially to Enjolras, who really didn't have such a loving family around him at all.

"It's called a cast, Julien," Combeferre explained as he and Enjolras waited for the lights to turn green. "Remember that I told you Courf fell down the stairs? Well by putting a cast around the broken arm, it heals better and faster."

Enjolras nodded impatiently and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eager for the light to turn green so that he could check it out himself. He and Courfeyrac had been close friends ever since the brown haired boy moved into town and joined his class. Enjolras never had many friends. People always found him weird and his sudden enthusiasm or passion often scared the other children away. Of course Combeferre was always there for him, but it was good for the blond boy to finally have a friend his own age. Courfeyrac was immediately mesmerized by Enjolras' personality and Enjolras found Courfeyracs cheerfulness addicting. They became close friends pretty much right away. And whoever was Enjolras' friend, was Combeferre's friend. When the cars finally stopped, Enjolras pulled out of Combeferre's grip and sprinted towards the other side of the road, almost colliding with Courfeyrac in his haste. Combeferre smiled and shook his head before calmly crossing the street as well.

"Look, look!" Courfeyrac exclaimed again, his eyes wide with excitement, and he reached out his arm to show the cast. "Isn't it cool? Everybody at school is going to love this. I'm a daredevil! I laugh in the face of pain!"

Enjolras grinned and carefully traced his fingers across the stark white plaster. His own blue eyes were shining just as bright as Courfeyracs and his mouth was slightly agape in amazement.

"And see this?" Courfeyrac turned his arm and pointed to a drawing of a pirate skull, complete with eye patch, hat and knife. "My dad drew this. He told me that everyone would now know how tough I am. And! And he said that I was allowed to let everyone draw or write on it if I wanted to. Look! Look, 'Ferre, isn't it cool?"

Combeferre, who was watching his two younger friends with amusement, raised his eyebrows a little and nodded. "Yes, Courf, it's very cool indeed. You'll be the point of attention for days, I'm sure." Combefere grinned and ruffled the brown curls. Then he draped both his arms around his younger friend's shoulders and gently nudged them in the direction of the school. He couldn't help but smile contently all the way there, listening to the lively chatter of Enjolras and Courfeyrac.

When they arrived at the building, Combeferre had to tighten his hold on both his friends to keep them from hurrying off into the school. He knelt down a little so that he was on eyelevel with them and held a firm grip on their upper arm. "Now you both know what we agreed upon right? You both wait here for me after school. No wandering off or playing adventure games unless within the school gates, am I clear? I don't want a repetition of last week. I can still feel Monsieur Enjolras' glare because I brought you back home late."

Courfeyrac nodded impatiently, eager to go inside, but Enjolras looked down at his feet and mumbled a soft apology. He too didn't want a repetition of last week. It wasn't all that fun at home when his mother and father were angry with him. And he felt guilty for them being mad at Combeferre as well while his older friend was in no way to blame. He looked back up when he felt a gentle hand squeeze the nape of his neck and he smiled at Combeferre's kind face. "Promise 'Ferre," he said quietly, blushing furiously when Combeferre placed a light kiss on his forehead.

"Alright then, off you go," the bespectacled boy chuckled. He watched the two boys run off together and give him the peace sign just before they went inside. Combeferre snorted and shook his head. Then he turned around and walked towards his own school.

Enjolras was in a bad mood. He loved Courfeyrac and he thought his cast was totally awesome, but he didn't like the attention Courfeyrac was getting from everyone. Not because he didn't think his friend deserved it, but because he felt left out. The other school children never paid attention to him and usually that didn't matter, because he had Courfeyrac, but now Courfeyrac was constantly busy and nobody really noticed Enjolras anymore. And he didn't like that. He felt a little jealous even and he wished he could be just as popular for once.

During lunch break, Enjolras sat at the end of the table watching how other children scribbled and drew all over Courfeyracs cast. He clenched his jaw and frowned annoyed when he realized that he hadn't even gotten the chance to decorate his friend's plaster yet. There was a sudden burning feeling behind his eyes and Enjolras quickly stood from the table and walked towards the bathrooms. He knew he was being childish and he chastised himself for it, but unconsciously Enjolras felt very lonely. He was Courfeyracs best friend and yet it was almost as if he wasn't even there today.

He stayed there during the entire lunch break. Luckily they only had gym for two hours and then they were done for the day. He hated gym. He was always picked last, unless Courfeyrac was the one to pick and he just wasn't good at it. Enjolras wanted to go home.

When he learned that his friend was excused from gym because of his injury, Enjolras felt even more miserable. The only thing that made these two hours only slightly bearable was the fact that Courf was there with him. He sulkily made his way towards the dressing rooms and changed into his sports uniform. Nobody really paid attention to him, but even though Courfeyrac wasn't there, he and his stupid cast were still talk of the hour.

"It's not that cool you know," Enjolras muttered bitterly under his breath, not loud enough for anyone to hear but himself, "He fell down the stairs. It was just a stupid accident."

He was the last one to enter the gym and saw they were going to play basketball. Again. They always played basketball. With a deep sigh, the blond took a seat on one of the benches and waited for the teacher to choose captains who could then chose their teammates. Again, he was picked last.

Enjolras was in such a miserable, bitter mood, that he wasn't paying attention to the game at all. He was just standing there somewhere in the middle of the court, wondering why on earth they had to play games like this while they could much better spend time studying or doing something useful. He was sunken so deep into his own thoughts that he was too late to notice two of the tall boys run in his direction. In a desperate attempt to avoid a collision, he made an awkward twist and stumbled over his own feet. As he fell to the floor, he had no time to catch himself on his arms or hands. He tried though.

A painful snap made Enjolras world tilt and for a moment he feared he was going to pass out. Seconds later he wished that he had. It felt like fire was spreading from his wrist to his hand and his arm and he squeezed his eyes shut. Before he knew it, his face crumpled and he was full on crying.

TBC.

Chapter Text

Enjolras sobbed quietly as he cradled his injured wrist close to his chest and tried to curl in on himself. Thick tears slowly trickled down his cheeks to form a small puddle on the floor and Enjolras muttered the same word over and over again between his quiet gasps for air. "Ow, ow, ow." The young boy felt lightheaded and the pain only got worse the longer he lay there. He didn't notice the group of children that had formed around him and he didn't hear them whisper worried words about him. The two boys who had nearly run into him stood next to him, holding their arms insecurely, not knowing what to do.

"Out of the way, come on, let me through."

Enjolras knew it was their teacher, Valjean, approaching but he didn't know how he felt about that yet. He never really determined if he liked the man or not. He hated gym and he hardly ever participated which the teacher found frustrating. But the man was usually kind to him and tried to stimulate him into joining the games whenever he could. Enjolras wondered if he was going to tell him to suck it up and force him to continue playing. A voice deep inside his head said that of course he wouldn't, but that voice couldn't quite convince Enjolras yet. He blinked one eye open and saw how the man made his way through the group of children to get closer to him. His bottom lip quivered harder when his teacher crouched down next to him and offered him a kind smile.

Valjean carefully pulled Enjolras up in a sitting position and reached out to take hold of the boy's injured wrist. When Enjolras flinched away from him and kept his arm at safe distance from his grasp, the man placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said: "It's okay, Julien, I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to see it for a second. I'll be careful, I promise."

Enjolras swallowed past the growing lump in his throat and turned big eyes to his teacher as if to determine if the man was telling the truth. Then he slowly, cautiously, laid his arm in his Valjeans outstretched hand and winced when the man traced his fingers over the red skin of his wrist. A new round of tears fell from his eyes and Enjolras wished Combeferre was there to make it all better. He did his best not to be bothered by the snickering comment of a girl to his right that this was the most he had moved during gym class all year, but he felt himself turn an embarrassing shade of red. Enjolras was suddenly grateful for his curly hair that always fell in front of his eyes, because he really didn't want anyone to see the shame in his eyes.

Valjean gave the girl an angry look, but didn't say anything to her. Instead he focused his attention on the boy in front of him. He carefully turned the wrist in his hand and prodded the skin in a few places, apologizing whenever Enjolras gasped or whimpered in response. He had hoped that they were just dealing with a severe sprain, but the quick swelling and the fiery pain that Enjolras was complaining about made him almost sure that the bone was broken. He felt sorry for the child. Though Enjolras never really participated much in his class, he had heard lovely stories about him from other teachers and there was just something about him that caused Valjean to care about the boy in a different way than he did for the other children.

"Alright, I'm all done," he said softly as stood back up, pulling Enjolras to his feet as well. "I'll take you to the school nurse and then I think a little trip to the hospital is in order."

Enjolars' eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. "No… N-No sir, it's okay, I don't need a hospital… I don't want to go."

Valjean smiled at him and laid both his hands on the boy's shoulders, squeezing softly in the hope to reassure the frightened boy. Then he gently pushed him towards the dressing rooms. Before they went inside, Valjean turned around to the other children and told them to play along quietly until he got back. "There is nothing scary about a hospital, Julien," he said kindly when the two of them entered the dressing room to collect Enjolras' bag and clothes, "It's just a place where they help people get better and where they will take the pain away. You'll probably get a cast just like your friend."

For a moment, Enjolras felt excited with that idea, but the pain and his fear for the hospital – which he had had ever since he was a little child – soon overruled his excitement. Besides, it wasn't as if he was just as cool with a cast as Courfeyrac was. Everyone wanted to draw on Courf's cast. Enjolras doubted if people would even notice his if he got one. What if no one wanted to sign it? What if they would just think Enjolras was a weakling? What if Courf would think Enjolras was trying to copy him? No, he didn't feel excited about it at all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was silent all the way towards the school nurse's station and so far lost in his own mind that he didn't really register anything Valjean was saying to him, though he did know they were mostly reassurances and encouragements. When they arrived there, Valjean knocked on the door before bending down again until he was on Enjolras' eyelevel.

"Don't worry, Julien, everything is going to be okay. The nurse is going to call your parents and then they'll come to pick you up and take you to see a doctor. If you want, I can tell Courfeyrac for you? I know the two of you always go home together so I assume he must be notified anyway."

Enjolras looked up confusedly when Valjean mentioned his parents. Why were they going to call them? He didn't want them to know what happened. What if they were going to be mad again? He wanted to tell his teacher that, but Valjean was already telling the nurse what had happened and before Enjolras knew it, he said his goodbye's and made his way back to the gym. Enjolras looked after him, still trying to figure out what was going to happen now, when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He looked around and felt his eyes fill with tears again.

"Come my child," the school nurse said kindly, leading him inside the room. "You can lie down on the bed. Or sit, whatever is more comfortable for you. I'll give you some ice for your wrist and then I'll call your parents, does that sound okay?"

Enjolras wanted to say 'no', but for some reason he was already nodding his head. He was confused. Maybe it was because of the pain, Enjolras wondered. He sat down on the bed and held the ice package against his injured wrist, sighing when the cold allowed him some form of pain relief. He looked around the room, taking in the awful bright paintings and childish figures decorating the walls. He couldn't imagine that anyone would be comforted by them. If anything, all those colors would make one nervous instead of calm.

"Sweetie, neither of your parents is picking up their phone. Do you know of another way that I can reach them? Or is there someone else I can call for you?"

Enjolras looked up at the nurse and frowned. That could be right. His parents both worked late on Mondays and they probably wouldn't be back home until after diner. They hardly ever picked up their phone when they were at work, Enjolras knew, he had tried often enough. On Mondays he usually stayed with Combeferre and his parents for diner before going home. Enjolras glanced at the clock. It was nearly three in the afternoon, which meant that Combeferre was probably already done with his classes and now studying in the library until it was time to pick him and Courfeyrac up.

"C-Could you call Combeferre?" Enjolras asked quietly, "He's my friend… He always picks me up on Mondays after school."

The nurse nodded kindly – not knowing that Combeferre was in fact only a teenager himself – and asked Enjolras for his number which the boy knew out of the top of his head. He briefly watched the nurse make the phone call before turning his attention to his aching hand. The sight of it frightened him and he quickly covered it with the ice package again, not wanting to look at it any longer.

"He is on his way," the nurse said as she hung up the phone. She moved towards the fridge in the corner of the room and took out a small package of juice which she gave to Enjolras. Then she opened a closet and pulled out a cloth which she quickly turned into a make-shift sling. She carefully laid it around Enjolras' neck and helped him to get his arm in there as comfortably as possible. "There," she muttered softly, "does that feel better?"

It did and Enjolras nodded timidly. He whispered a quiet thank you and sank back against the pillows of the bed, closing his eyes. He was still a little dizzy and the severe pain in combination with the far too sugary juice drink had left him feeling nauseous.

When the door of the room opened after little more than fifteen minutes, Enjolras opened his eyes again to see who had entered. As soon as his eyes caught sight of Combeferre, Enjolras' face crumpled and he started crying again. Harder than he had before when it all happened. He didn't know why, but seeing Combeferre suddenly made his wrist hurt more than ever and yet he was so relieved, because Combeferre was here and Combeferre always made everything better.

Combeferre immediately closed the distance between himself and the small figure on the bed and allowed Enjolras to hide his face in the crook of his neck, holding him close. He muttered soft, encouraging words to the small blonde boy in his arms and gently carded his hand through the curly locks. Neither of the two paid attention to the nurse who was standing there watching them with a surprised and slightly annoyed look on her face.

"Excuse me," she said coolly, interrupting the stream of comforting words Combeferre was whispering in Enjolras' ear while the blonde boy continued sobbing on his shoulder. "Excuse me, but you are still a child yourself. You can't take him."

Combeferre looked up at her and scowled. "I'm nearly fifteen. I'm not a child," he said, not all too friendly as he carefully helped Enjolras up on his feet. "And I very well can take him, he needs a hospital, you said so yourself."

The nurse huffed. "Yes, well, be that as it may, he can only leave here with an adult." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and came to stand in front of the door, effectively blocking their way out.

Combeferre sighed and shook his head. He knew that of course. He wasn't stupid. That's why he had called his father as soon as he was done speaking to the nurse on his phone. "I know he needs an adult. I called my father and he is waiting in his car just outside the school building. I only came in here to get Julien. My father will drive us to the hospital. If you don't believe me then you can walk with me and see for yourself."

Enjolras watched the conversation between the nurse and his friend with wide eyes and slight amusement. Combeferre was always so calm and polite and Enjolras couldn't help but find it a little funny whenever he got worked up. Especially when that was because of his concern for Enjolras; he secretly liked how much Combeferre cared about him.

In the end, the nurse decided not to outside with Enjolras and Combeferre but settled for a short phone call with Combeferre's father. She then let the two of them go with a note from Valjean explaining exactly what happened.

"What about Courf…," Enjolras whispered quietly as the two of them made their way towards the car. "He is going to wait here but no one is coming to get him…"

Combeferre smiled softly and draped his arm around Enjolras' shoulders. "Don't you worry about that Julien, I took care of that already. His mother will pick him up and she'll let us know when he's home so that we can call him to explain what happened, alright? You just focus on yourself and don't worry about anything else."

Enjolras nodded and leaned in closer to Combeferre. "It hurts a lot, 'Ferre…," he admitted softly, fighting against the tears as he felt another blush spread across his cheeks.

"I know it does, my friend. But we're going to get you fixed right up, just wait and see," Combeferre said reassuringly as he waited for Enjolras to get into the car before sliding in next to him. He smiled and nodded at his father to let him know they were ready to go and allowed Enjolras to lean against his chest. He carefully wounded his arms around the young boy and let his chin rest atop the messy blonde curls. "Only a little while longer and then you'll be fine, I promise."

Chapter Text

Combeferre couldn't help but smile softly when he and his father led a wide eyed, teary Enjolras into the examination room. It wasn't fair of course and he definitely didn't find it amusing that Enjolras was in pain, but his young friend just looked darn cute being as nervous as he was. Combeferre's smile widened when he felt a small pressure in his hand and realized that Enjolras reached out for him. He quickly closed his hand around that of his young friend and squeezed it tightly. He hoped that he could offer the boy some courage even though he knew there really wasn't anything to be afraid of. Combeferre had always found hospitals fascinating. Even when he was a child, he was never scared of going there. He was the kind of child that asked the doctors question after question.

Enjolras was the complete opposite though. The young boy did his best to appear brave, but it was all too obvious that he felt anxious. His small hands were sweaty and Combeferre could feel the tension in his body. Enjolras had been tearing up ever since they drove away from the school and Combeferre was sure it was almost just as much due to his nerves as it was to the pain. His bottom lip stuck out in a pout and Combeferre wanted to smother him with hugs every time he looked at Enjolras' face.

"Don't be afraid, Julien," Combeferre said kindly as he helped the young boy on the examination bed, which was too high for him to climb on his own. "A doctor will be here any minute now and he will wrap your wrist up so you can go home. I promise. It'll be over before you know it."

Enjolras looked at him, eyes wide and shining. "Promise?"

Combeferre let out a small laugh and gently ruffled the curly mess of blonde hair. "Yes, I promise."

Combeferre's father stood at a little distance of the two boys and watched them with a smile. He had always thought there was something special about them. About the way they clicked, connected. It had been that way pretty much since Enjolras was born and Combeferre and his family came to visit. He knew Enjolras' parents must think the same. They at least trusted Combeferre with their son from an earlu age on. Thinking of Enjolras' parents made Combeferre's father want to slip out the room and call again. He liked Enjolras' parents, but they were sometimes quite hard to fathom. And they were very strict and always busy, which was something Combeferre often complained about.

Just when the older man wanted to excuse himself and make the call in the hallway, a doctor came into the room. Combeferre's father didn't miss how Enjolras immediately grabbed his older friend's hand. He smiled another soft smile.

"Good afternoon, my name is doctor Plouton," the doctor said kindly as he shook the hand of Combeferre's father and smiled at the two boys on the examination bed. He was a relatively young man with dark brown hair and gentle eyes. Combeferre would have trusted him right away, but Enjolras needed a little more convincing. The young boy leaned heavily against his older friend as if trying to hide away from the doctor.

Doctor Ploutons smile only widened and he looked down at his chart. "Now, let me see here... The nurses told me that I was going to look at the wrist of a boy named Julien." His eyes shifted from Enjolras to Combeferre and back to Enjolras again. There was no doubt about who his patient was, but he asked anyway. "Which one of you is Julien?"

Enjolras felt his heart beat faster and he tried to press even closer to Combeferre when his older friend draped a strong arm around his shoulders. His wrist throbbed mercilessly but he almost didn't notice it because of the nerves running through his body.

"This is Julien," Combeferre said kindly, "He fell during gym class and the teacher thought he might have broken his wrist."

"I see," Doctor Plouton nodded and he walked towards the bed, from under which he pulled out a stool and sat down. He smiled at his young patient, who did his best not to look at him. This wasn't his first time dealing with frightened children. It was more of a rule that a child was scared of doctors or of hospitals. Children like Combeferre were the exception. Luckily dr. Plouton was usually great with children and he was sure that he could lure this one out of his shell as well. Even if it was only for a short while. He leaned forward a little and spoke in a hushed voice.

"Now Julien, I dare to guess that you don't like being here one bit, am I right?"

Enjolras stared at him before shaking his head timidly.

Dr. Pouton smiled again. "I'll tell you a secret. You know, when I was your age, I hated hospitals. I despised them. I never wanted to go there." He saw how he had managed to get Enjolras' full attention and he leaned further forwards so that he could whisper in his patient's ear. "And you know what… I actually still don't like them at all. I always want to get out of here as fast as I can. And I bet you want that too, so how about we make this a quick examination and then we can both get out of here?"

Enjolras' wide eyes grew even wider and he nodded his head jerkily. The young boy did not even notice when Combeferre tried to hide his chuckle with a surprised cough.

Dr. Plouton spared a glance at the older boy and winked. "Okay then," he said, sitting up straight again to carefully remove the sling around Enjolras' shoulder. "Let me see that wrist of yours. I'm not going to do anything, I just want to take a look at it, is that all right?"

Enjolras hesitated for a second, but then nodded again and carefully lay his hurting arm on the armrest of the bed. He bit his lip when the doctor softly prodded the skin in a few places and more tears fell from his bright blue eyes. He felt Combeferre squeezing his neck, but it didn't help. The pain was really bad and so he immediately murmured a pain filled 'yes' when the doctor asked him if it hurt a lot.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Dr. Plouton said gently. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm first going to give you something that will help with the pain. I promise you'll be feeling better straight away. Then we're going to make some x-rays of that wrist to see what kind of break we're dealing with here. And then I'm going to fix your arm, put it in a cast and you can go home. How does that sound?"

Enjolras blinked at the doctor for a second and then looked up to Combeferre for advice. When his older friend nodded encouragingly, Enjolras turned back to the doctor. "O-Okay..," he whispered shakily. But when his eyes fell on the syringe the doctor was holding, he immediately regretted his words.

It took some convincing and a lot of reassuring and encouraging words from Combeferre before Enjolras allowed the doctor to inject him with a type of painkilling drugs. And while Enjolras gasped miserably when the needle connected with his skin, Combeferre quickly felt him relax against his body, a sign that – as the doctor had said – the drugs took immediate effect. The teenager wondered if Plouton might have given Enjolras more than just a painkiller, because his younger friend certainly was a lot more calm.

Taking the x-rays took less time than Combeferre and his father had guessed. Enjolras was cooperative and followed the doctors every instruction flawlessly, laying his arm in different positions and being as still as possible during the process. Afterwards, they returned to the examination room where the doctor told them they would have to wait a little while. It was in those minutes that Combeferre's father stepped outside to try and contact Enjolras' parents again. Combeferre stayed with his sleepy young friend and together they waited for the doctor to return with the x-rays.

"Am I going to be cool like Courf now, 'Ferre?" Enjolras asked quietly, eyes drooping and voice a little slurred.

Combeferre chuckled. "Definitely, Julien. You and him are going to be the two most admired children at school." In reality, Combeferre didn't find it cool at all. He wasn't happy with the fact that now both of his two young protégé's were dealing with a broken bone and the fact that they thought it was 'cool' didn't really calm his nerves. He just hoped they wouldn't become even more reckless than they already were.

After a little while, both the doctor and Combeferre's father came back into the room. Combeferre immediately searched his father's face, wondering if the man had news about Enjolras' parents. He had thought that he would find a dark expression there, but his father actually looked relieved and a little cheerful. He walked over to Enjolras, squeezing Combeferre's shoulder as he passed by, and crouched down in front of him.

"I was just on the phone with your dad, Julien," he said kindly, waiting for Enjolras to look up in expectation. "And he told me that he was sorry he wasn't here with you. He thought you were very brave and he asked if you could save him and your mother a spot on your cast so they could write on it tonight."

The way the boy's face lit up after hearing those words actually nearly broke Combeferre's heart. He knew his father was fond of the Enjolras', but he didn't really like them. Enjolras' dad should've been here with him.

"Dad said I was brave?" Enjolras asked happily – and a little too surprised for Combeferre's liking.

Combeferre's father smiled and nodded. "You bet he did, son. He and your mother will pick you up at our place as soon as they're done with work."

Enjolras was beaming. He was actually beaming. It was almost as if the fact that he was still in a hospital didn't bother him at all anymore. He leaned on Combeferre with a content smile on his face and absentmindedly fidgeted with the quick splint the doctor had made for his wrist earlier.

Dr. Plouton smiled at the exchange between Combeferre's father and his patient. When they were done, he showed them the x-rays of Enjolras' wrist, explaining in every detail what break they were dealing with and how they were going to fix it. It wasn't a pretty fracture. It was actually pretty bad and slightly dislocated, so the doctor was going to have to put his young patient to sleep in order to fix it.

"It's called a closed reduction, which sounds difficult, but it really isn't. What I'm going to do is just push the bone back in its place without having to break the skin or anything like that. But, because it is a very painful procedure, I'm going to give Julien here a general anesthetic, which will pull him under."

The doctor turned his attention back on Enjolras. "While you're asleep, I'm going to fix your arm, which will only take a couple of minutes and then I'll put the cast on as well. We'll take another x-ray to see if I have set the bone correctly. You won't feel a single thing. And when you wake up, you'll be ready to go home. Sound good?"

Enjolras was already tired and going to sleep did sound very tempting. So he nodded slowly and tried to stifle a yawn, which caused the doctor to chuckle. The young boy did everything the doctor told him – he breathed deeply into the anesthesia mask and obediently tried to count back from ten – and was asleep within the next ten minutes.

"How long will he be asleep for?" Combeferre's father asked as he and his son watched the doctor work on Enjolras' wrist along with a nurse.

"A little longer than an hour, I guess, it can differ. Every patient is different. We will probably be done before he wakes, but I want to keep him here at least until then to see how he responds to the anesthetics."

It turned out that dr. Plouton had set the bone correctly at the first attempt and so the cast could stay on. He told Combeferre and his father that they could stay with Enjolras until he woke up and then they'd have to press the call button so that he could do a last check-up. Enjolras slept for a full hour longer than the doctor had thought, but when he woke up he seemed to be doing alright. He was still a little drowsy and incoherent, but he didn't feel sick and he wasn't in any pain. Dr. Plouton carefully placed Enjolras' injured wrist in a new sling and gave Combeferre's father the prescription for the painkillers they had to pick up at the apothecary.

While they were driving home, Enjolras was a little giggly and he kept booping Combeferre's nose. Every time he succeeded – which actually wasn't that often, because he was still fighting off the remnants of the anesthetics – Enjolras laughed out loud. He kept trying until Combeferre's father arrived at the apothecary. By that time he was too tired to do much more than lie against his older friend's chest.

When they arrived at Combeferre's house, Courfeyrac ran out of the door with a bright smile on his face. He nearly ran into his two friend in his enthusiasm, but his smile faltered when he lay eyes on Enjolras. He knew his friend had gotten injured during gym class and he knew he had been at the hospital to see a doctor, but it really hadn't sunken in until now. His best friend looked pale and a little out of it to be honest and Courfeyrac felt confused.

"I-is he okay, 'Ferre?" the young boy asked nervously as he watched how his older friend carefully helped Enjolras inside. "I-Is it really bad? I-Is he going to… W-Will he be alright?"

Combeferre smiled gently as he guided Enjolras to the couch and pushed him down. He should've known Courfeyrac wasn't going to wait for him to call. He shouldn't be surprised that the boy was already waiting for them at his home. "Don't worry Courf. He's alright, just a little tired. Got a cast, just like you."

Courfeyrac stared at Enjolras for a little while longer, but then his face broke out in a wide smile. "Wow, that is so cool! Enj, we are going to be so cool, the two of us! I can't wait to go to school again. We are like cool-cast-brothers now!"

Enjolras tried to smile at his friend, but he suddenly remembered how left out he had felt today. He threw a quick glance at Courfeyrac's arm and swallowed thickly when he saw that it was covered in scribbles and little drawings. He tried his best not to be bothered by it, but failed miserably.

"I don't want to be cool-cast-brothers with you," he muttered miserably, and if Combeferre would later tell him he was pouting, Enjolras would not believe it. "You didn't even let me write on yours. You told me I could! 's not fair."

At hearing that, Combeferre raised his eyebrows and looked at Courfeyrac expectantly. The younger boy however looked just as surprised. Then he reached out his arm and opened his hand. "Course you can write on mine, silly!" he chuckled. "See! I saved the best spot for you and 'Ferre in my hand, because that's most easy to see and read."

Enjolras stared at the blank spot on the cast in Courfeyrac's palm and just below his hand. Then he grinned and pulled his own arm out of his sling. "I want you to write there on mine too! And you as well 'Ferre. But don't take up all the space, cause dad said he and mom wanted to write on here too and my cast is smaller than yours Courf."

Combeferre watched the exchange between his two young friends with a content smile. It was still a little unsettling, to have them both injured and hurt right after each other, but he was happy everything turned out to be okay. He settled himself on the couch between Enjolras and Courfeyrac and decided to watch a movie now that the three of them were together. It was only a matter of minutes before the two boys had curled in on him and at that point, Combeferre couldn't be happier.

The End.