scienceandmoths:

Combeferre leans into Enjolras’ touch, brown eyes
half lidded as he looked up at the blond. His arms
tugged softly at his restraints, instinctively wanting
to reach up to touch the other. His touch was soothing,
calming. It carried relief with it, knowing that he would
soon be home again and have time for his wounds to heal.

“I can walk.” His voice was insistent in that matter, though
he truly wasn’t sure if he would be able to do so. His entire
body felt weak and exhausted, bruised and bloody and no
rest the entire time he’d been there.

As soon as the ropes were cut he reached out to touch
Enjolras, a weak smile on his face.

He tried to push himself out of the chair and stopped with
a hiss at the pain that shot up his chest and seemed to
spread to his limbs. He knew what was causing it, but he
was trying to avoid drawing attention to it. It would only
infuriate Enjolras more if he saw the words that had been
carved there for him to see.

“I may need some help standing..”

:: { ℑ⋅ℇ } ─ ─ ─ ::

              Normal circumstances would make 
           it easy to trust Combeferre’s judgment
           but he cannot see how he looks like and
           Enjolras would scorch this earth twice 
           over to have revenge for the pain. He’s
           going to make do with knowing his shoes
           are soaked in their pools of blood, in the
           end. 

              Trembling hands touch his face and 
           Enjolras is quick to catch them, hold on
           as the ropes go lax and he can see the
           heave of Combeferre’s chest, the way 
           his clothes are bloody from his midriff
           down. If they touch him, Enjolras thinks,
           all of the sudden incescened, if they had
           dared to touch him–

               But he has no time to follow that trail
            of thought because Combeferre makes a
            sound like a wounded animal and Enjolras
            immediately curls himself to take most of
            the weight. He doesn’t notice the gaping
            shirt because the blood is crusting and
            his focus in on Combeferre’s leg.

              “Just rest on me. I will carry you out.”
            By which he means I will drag you with
            me as we hobble out together. It’s slow
            going and near the exit there are two
            more bodies, non-government. Enjolras
            grits his jaw and walks past them.

               "Do we need Joly to prepare for
                                    surgery back at base?“ 

TL