The process of getting out of the car seemed to
take an eternity. The combination of his exhaustion
and aching wounds making it a slow and painful
process, leaving him panting and leaning heavily
on the others once he was out of the vehicle.But he relaxes slightly once they are inside, knowing
that now he can be safe, and heal up. Now he can rest.Joly’s fussing, so familiar to him, is soothing, and he
can’t help the small smile even as he lets his head fall
back on the bed and his eyes slip closed. They open
again when he feels Enjolras’ hand squeeze his, a tired
and reassuring smile on his face as he returns the squeeze.“Of course it will be.”
But nonetheless he keeps his gaze on Enjolras until he
feels the medication pull him down into sleep.
:: { ℑ⋅ℇ } ─ ─ ─ ::
He doesn’t– he’s not a l l o w e d to
stay there while Joly works on their fellow
insurgent, but all he does in the slow as
molasses slide of the hours is pace, his
feet too fast for the way the world’s slowed
down. He burns a h o l e through the floor
and it’s when joly opens the door, blood
stained gloves in hand does Enjolras finally
feel the nausea catch up to him. He doesn’t
say anything, disappears down the corridor
to retch into the toilet and it’s an ugly sound.
It’s exhausting, his whole body slumps
over and God, God. Enjolras can’t breathe.
It takes energy, more than he has, to pull
himself up, to wash his face and rinse his
mouth and scrub the blood from underneath
his fingernails. He comes back into himself,
the fire of his soul dimming down to contain
itself in one body, to not reduce his vessel
to ash. Enjolras walks back to Combeferre.
He sits next to him until he wakes up.