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As soon as Valjean deemed Bahorel healed enough, Bahorel spent all his time in Grantaire’s room, waiting for him to wake up.
He only left to eat. All of the amis ate together, in Marius’ parlor, on the floor. None of them wanted to eat in the elegant dining room.
Valjean had assured them all Grantaire would be fine, his wounds were bandaged, and he just needed to sleep off the drugs. Marius decided it was best if only Bahorel, Joly, Bossuet, and Valjean were allowed in Grantaire’s room. He didn’t want Grantaire to be too upset when he woke up. He always said when, never if.
Bahorel almost never left Grantaire’s side.
Grantaire groaned as he opened his eyes, sitting up in bed. It was an odd sensation feeling clothes on his body.
It took all of Bahorel’s will to not immediately say Grantaire’s name upon seeing him wake up.
Grantaire rubbed his eyes. “Bahorel?” His voice was husky and hoarse, but Bahorel could tell immediately that it wasn’t slurring from intoxication.
“Do you know your name?” Bahorel asked, voice oddly gentle.
“Grantaire. My head hurts. Bahorel…”
Bahorel burst into tears, rolling onto the bed to wrap Grantaire in his arms.
Grantaire shrieked and shoved Bahorel.
Bahorel barely kept himself on the bed, but did let go. “Grantaire, do you know what happened?”
All Grantaire did for a moment was stare at Bahorel. “Leave me alone.” He said after a long moment.
“What? Grantaire, we’re safe, we’re in Marius’ home. All of us are safe, Jean is dead.”
“Leave me alone!” Grantaire repeated, louder, clutching his arms to his chest. “Get out!”
“Grantaire, I just want to tell you what’s going on, we’re safe, you’re healed, and the tonics he was giving you-”
Grantaire screamed bloody murder, a long blood-curdling shriek, and he didn’t stop until Bahorel jumped off the bed and went to the door.
“I’ll tell Enjolras to come.” Bahorel said tentatively, and left the room. Grantaire stopped screaming.
Enjolras came in in a few minutes, gently shutting the door behind him when he entered.
“May I sit, Grantaire?” He asked.
Grantaire nodded.
Enjolras sat on the end of the bed, facing Grantaire, who had properly sat up at that point.
“Go on. Berate me.” Grantaire said.
“You abandoned us.” Enjolras said. “You abandoned me. You scared me, you had me truly terrified.” There wasn’t much malice in his voice.
“I’m sorry.”
Enjolras sighed. “You are already forgiven. I know you want to be treated like normal, but I really don’t want to insult you.”
“Well I really don’t want to be treated like a broken teacup.”
“We all care about you, that’s why we’re so worried! We don’t hate you, I know you’re thinking we do.”
“I was kissing his feet willingly-”
“Grantaire. I love you. And I don’t want to hear you insult yourself.”
“...You still love me?”
“I do. Fuck, my father can’t change that. And he’s gone now. He’ll never hurt either of us again.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Cosette’s father confirmed for me himself.”
Grantaire nodded.
“I hate myself for it too. I think all of us are mad at ourselves for obeying when we did.”
“It was survival, you had to-”
“Tell that to yourself.”
“I hate your stupid logic.”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Apollo.”
“May I hold you?”
Grantaire shook his head. “I don’t want to be touched. But stay with me. Tell me about Marius, and the others.”
“As you wish.” Enjolras said with a little smile.