On the 27th of April, 2013, there was an accident.

Joly was on his internship at Jyal hospital when they brought him in. He was the first of the friends to see what had happened.

Grantaire was brought in by the ambulance at 3:34 in the morning, blood covering his body. He had been driving home, clearly intoxicated, when his car left the road and hit a lamppost. Six doctors had tried to resuscitate the drunk. Some tried to give up but Joly continued to push, hoping he could do something to save his friend.

At 3:51am, they called Grantaire's time of death.

Outside the ER, each member of the Les Amis arrived. Enjolras was the first there, soon followed by Combeferre, Bossuet and the rest of the gang. Joly did say that he wanted to be the one to tell them but when he walked out to deliver the news, he just couldn't find the words. He was too scared to be the one that broke all of their hearts. With a simple lie, he was able to avoid this confrontation. It was co-worker, Elliot, who didn't even know the group that informed them of their friend's death.

Three weeks later, they had the funeral. Very few people had actually come to terms with what happened, the others were still in the early stages. Joly had been awoken several times with sweat dripping down his skin. In his slumber, the vision of Grantaire's bloodied body would leap at him. Bossuet always hugged him and hushed words of comfort as Musichetta prepared some tea. They both tried to be there for Joly as much as they could. Even at the funeral, they sat either side of him and held his hand throughout the ceremony.

It was only a small funeral, just as Grantaire would have wanted. Not even all of the Les Amis showed up. What the gathering was missing was a certain blonde leader.

While it disappointed a few of the friends, it didn't surprise anyone. Enjolras had been evading anything that had to do with Grantaire's death. Some believe it was because the two got into an argument shortly before Grantaire departed them that night; but the argument was no different to usual. There was nothing Enjolras, or anyone else, could have done differently. As soon as his name was brought up, Enjolras managed to turn the subject to something else. He even avoided Joly at all cost, never even looking at the young medical student. Whenever Joly said something, Enjolras would ignore it. Everyone else was noticing how this hurt the young man, and many even spoke to him about it. Combeffere said, "You'll have to speak to him one day," and Bossuet had even threatened to hurt Enjolras if it continued. How did the leader respond to this?

"I'm sorry but I have more important things to deal with than his feelings." Enjolras couldn't even bring himself to say the name of his once close friend.

After the funeral, Joly was one of the first to leave. He knew where to find Enjolras; the same place he always was. Joly's car stopped outside the Cafe Musain and walked in. Just as he expected, Enjolras was alone in the building, looking up at the plans they had scattered across the wall.

"You weren't at the funeral," Joly muttered. For the first time since the accident, Enjolras spoke back.

"I don't think one person's presence would have made a difference." His tone was dreary, as if it had been a while since he allowed himself the pleasure of sleep. Joly walked closer to the blonde, the only sound in the room came from his shoes hitting the loose floorboards.

"I know, but he would have wanted you to be there." There was no response this time. Joly stopped walking a few inches behind Enjolras. He didn't know what he wanted exactly, but he wanted Enjolras to react. "He cared about you, an awful lot." This was true. Everyone knew about Grantaire's not to hidden love of their leader except him. At least, that's what they thought.

"Yes. You could even say he was in love with me. It's a shame I didn't reciprocate the feeling." Joly ran his tongue over his lips, trying to think of anything that he could say that would comfort the visibly hurting Enjolras. Sighing in defeat, he went back to the oldest line in medical history.

"We did all we could." It appeared to hit a nerve in the blonde. He was ready to listen to pointless apologies, but not that.

"No, you didn't. You should have tried harder!" Enjolras snapped around and there was a look on Enjolras's face nobody had ever seen before. Behind the thin layer of hatred and anger, there was fear and great sorrow. His eyes were wide and slightly red while his chest was moving up and down from the deep breathes he was failing to control. His usually strong, confident voice was shaking. "Don't you dare lie about something like that. Maybe if you weren't so busy making sure you were free of any illness, you would have been able to actually do your job and Grantaire would still be alive. Grantaire's dead and you were meant to save him but you did…"

The rant was stopped when Joly pulled Enjolras into an embrace. He didn't argue, he didn't tell Enjolras to calm down; he didn't do anything but hug him. This was what he needed. Enjolras was shocked at this sudden gesture at first. He just stood there for a few seconds before relaxing into it. His arms wrapped around Joly's stomach and he placed his head on the fancy coats shoulder. For the first time since he was little, Enjolras started to sob. He just let all the pain from Grantaire's death out and Joly placed a hand through the golden locks, preparing himself to stand there and comfort Enjolras for as long as he needed.

After all, what are friends for?