A/N: So this was a request from tumblr user enjy-r, who requested Enjolras having to learn to cope with fatherhood and a few things from early on in Alana's life, with possible guilt about Grantaire. This is set between chapters 2 and 3 of Compatibility, and just after Maybe There Is A God After All.

For the first week after Alana was born, Enjolras barely left her side. Alana became his life, and it was with great regret that he handed her over to Mrs Dodd Monday morning so that he could go in to work.

"If I didn't have bills to pay, I wouldn't be leaving you," he told her before they left the flat, her innocent eyes watching him as they always did. "I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."

The crying started as soon as he turned to leave, Mrs Dodd having assured him she'd be fine. It was almost enough to stop Enjolras from going but he knew he had no choice. He had to work, or they'd be out on the street within only a couple of weeks.

It had taken him three days to talk his boss at the bar into giving him earlier hours but he had eventually succeeded, even though it meant changing his library hours to match. Leaving the house at eight am and not returning till nine pm was starting to take its toll but it meant he could pay the bills and Mrs Dodd (even if she did insist it wasn't needed, he still had his pride).

The first time Alana woke him crying, Enjolras was there within moments, picking her up and walking round the room, soothing her until she fell quiet again. The three am feedings become routine, and he slowly became accustomed to the lack of sleep, never once complaining, even when he was woken five times in one night.

Alana was only just under a month old when Enjolras woke up one morning gasping, still in the clutches of the dream which had woken him. One glance at the calendar told him all he needed to know - it was Grantaire's birthday. For the first time since Alana had been born, Enjolras seriously regretted leaving, the guilt overwhelming as he curled up on the bed, missing his ex-boyfriend more than ever. The cries from the cot was the only thing to make him move, pulling Alana into his arms and rocking her there gently, singing to her softly for the first time. The tears stopping almost instantly, she gurgled happily as she stared up at him so he continued. He fell silent only when he had to try and force his own tears to not fall. Grantaire had always been the one to sing, and Enjolras was once again reminded of his guilt at leaving him.

"I shouldn't have left," he whispered, blinking away a stray tear, but then he looked down at Alana. "But then I wouldn't have you. I can't win. I can't have everything, so I must make do with what I am allowed to have." His breath caught when she suddenly smiled up at him and, at least for a few moments, he let himself forget Grantaire and focus on his daughter, scrabbling for his phone to snap a picture. Her first smile was something he couldn't let himself forget.

When Alana was three months old, Enjolras quit his bar job.

"It will mean less money," he told Alana that night. He told her every little thing even though she was too young to understand, partly because he needed someone he could talk to. "But that doesn't matter. This will mean I get to spend more time with you. Besides, I can't work there anymore. It hurts too much. He's the only drunkard I want in my life... Even though I hated him for drinking so much. These feelings are just impossible. I still love him, Allie, and I think I'd forgive him all his flaws just to have him with me again. Not that he'd take me back. He must hate me for all I did."

Placing Alana down for a moment, he stood to fetch himself a drink, tripping and falling when he caught the corner of the sofa. Hearing the giggle from behind him, he froze before rolling over and sitting up to face his daughter.

"Allie?"

She laughed again and he grinned, jumping up and scooping her up into his arms. "This is brilliant!" he laughed. The urge suddenly came upon him to tell someone that his daughter had just laughed for the first time, and he found himself wishing he hadn't cut all contact with back home. Combeferre would have been the first to know about this had he still been talking to his old best friend, and he sighed.

Once Alana was asleep, he sat at the table and stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of him, searching for the right words to use.

Combeferre,

If this just gets scrunched up and thrown in the bin, then I understand. It's been a year and a half since I left and I've never contacted you before, so I get it if you're mad. I would be. I just need to try.

Things have changed a lot in these eighteen months. I'm a dad now, something I didn't think would happen for many years. In fact, that's partly why I'm writing. I still haven't quite got my head round the fact that I'm doing this alone, without him. Alana, my daughter, is making me miss you even more. She laughed today for the first time and my gut reaction was the grab my phone and ring you, but I couldn't. And yes, I know this is my own fault.

How are you all? Is Marius still with Cosette, and has Eponine finally got over him? What about Courfeyrac and Jehan, did anything happen there? And Joly, Bossuet and Musichette, I hope they're still okay. Tell Bahorel to watch who he picks fights with, and Feuilly not to work too hard.

And how is he? I suppose I understand if you don't want to tell me, but I have to ask.

My address is on the back, for in case you do decide to reply.

Enjolras

Sealing the letter, he wrote on his friend's old address, hoping he hadn't moved and that he would at least read it. He daren't reread anything for fear that this sheet, like the seventeen before it, would end up in the bin and he would never find the nerve to send the letter.

The next two months passed smoothly, even with the decreased wages entering the house, and their changed routine suited the small family. Enjolras eventually stopped hoping for a reply to his letter, assuming Combeferre had decided to just ignore him and never knowing that the letter had just been thrown away by the new tenants. He was still stuck with the early mornings, thanks to the library refusing to allow him to change his shifts, but arriving home at three pm meant he could spend some time with his daughter every afternoon.

Christmas had come and gone quietly, with Enjolras having saved up enough to buy Alana a couple of toys but with no other celebrations taking place. All he could think about when hearing carols was the year Bahorel, Grantaire and Courfeyrac had got everyone drunk and dragged them out carol singing, resulting in a heap of ten sleeping bodies in their living room the next morning, and the thought of even trying to make a big Christmas dinner reminded him of Combeferre nearly blowing the cooker up and Feuilly setting the kitchen on fire two years previous.

The first time Alana sat up on her own, Enjolras had just walked into Mrs Dodd's flat to pick her up. Their elderly neighbour had come to dote on the pair of them and Enjolras was growing to love her as a surrogate mother, often staying to talk about their days or accepting the cakes she was always baking and giving him to take home. Upon seeing his daughter push her way up he rushed over, crouching beside her and beaming. Once again his phone was out and taking pictures so he would never forget this moment (not that he truly thought he would anyway) before he was hugging his five-month-old daughter to him.

"She's growing so fast," Mrs Dodd said fondly and he nodded, standing and smiling happily.

"Not long until she'll be crawling around now," he replied, kissing the thin hair that was starting to grow.

His phone was soon full of pictures of Alana, and he carefully saved all the "firsts" into a separate folder. It was early Spring when he got to add the next picture - he'd barely walked into the lounge when he was almost tripping over the little girl crawling towards him. Immediately planning to buy a babygate for the kitchen the next day, he quickly shut the door behind him and walked to the other side of the room, crouching down and grinning as she crawled towards him.

By the time Alana was six months old, Enjolras finally reckoned he was starting to get used to this parenthood thing. He no longer made any mistakes when mixing her milk, he liked to joke that he'd come an expert at checking the temperature of bathwater, changing nappies had become easier than he ever thought it would, he would read fairytales and sing lullabies and do all the things he never thought he'd be seen dead doing. He could understand what she wanted by how she was crying, get her back to sleep within fifteen minutes of her waking up during the night, and had even got to the point where he could fall asleep again no matter how many times she woke him.

The first problems came when Enjolras was ill. Nothing too serious, only man-flu, but he was a light sleeper at the best of times and only the faintest of noises woke him up when under the weather.

It was around this time that Alana started teething.

"I am begging you," Enjolras whispered, dragging himself out of bed and over to her cot. "Please go back to sleep. I'm so tired." Somehow (he wasn't even sure himself) he managed to quieten her down and get her back to sleep, but he was barely dozing off when the cries started again. This continued for a couple of hours until, sleep deprived and completely exhausted, Enjolras couldn't take it any longer. "Will you please just shut up?" he snapped at his daughter. His tone of voice silenced her immediately. It was the first time Enjolras had raised his voice whilst in her presence and she stared up at him for a moment before crying again, louder this time. Sighing, he picked her up and started shushing her. "I'm sorry sweetheart," he whispered, feeling guilty for losing his temper a little. "Come on now, let's get you back to sleep, and tomorrow I'll ask Mrs Dodd if she knows of anything that could help."

The next cracks appeared when someone Enjolras worked with went on maternity and, instead of finding a new member of staff to cover her shifts, Enjolras was called in instead. Working double shifts most days, when added on to sleeping less and less hours each night due to both Alana waking him and his exhaustion making it harder for him to fall asleep in the first place, was making Enjolras turn into a zombie. As such, he started forgetting things.

He lost his flat keys ten times before he gave in and asked Mrs Dodd if she would look after a spare set for him. Half-asleep one night it took him over half an hour to work out why Alana was screaming, instead of the usual few minutes. When he forgot to do the laundry he had to go rooting through the basket searching for the cleanest looking and smelling work shirt he could find, a wave of nostalgia washing over him when he remembered Grantaire often doing the same thing at home. The worst time was when he realised he'd run out of milk at two am, leaving him awake the rest of the night, trying to soothe a screaming hungry baby.

By the next day he was barely awake, his (thankfully single) shift passing smoothly and with him managing not to slip into unconsciousness at any point. Buying milk on his way home, he collected Alana from Mrs Dodd and fed her as quickly as he could, thankful when she fell asleep straight away afterwards. Placing Alana into her cot and pulling the blanket over her gently, Enjolras collapsed into bed, asleep instantly.

Waking the next morning after over twelve hours sleep felt like heaven, and Enjolras was reminded of how he'd felt just before handing his first year dissertation in. He'd stayed up for 72 hours straight researching and writing the final section, finally collapsing on his desk two nights before it was due in. Grantaire had dragged him to bed and he'd slept for 14 hours before waking and accepting all the lectures Combeferre and Joly had to offer on how sleep deprivation was bad for your health, even listening when Grantaire had ranted at him, demanding promises that he'd be less stupid in future.

"I miss home," Enjolras mumbled to himself as he crawled out of bed and staggered over to Alana, who was awake and hungry.

And that, he decided as he changed her nappy and fed her, was the problem. He still thought of the house he'd shared for over a year with Combeferre, Grantaire, Courfeyrac and Jehan as home, even though it had been almost two years since he'd lived there. Slowly he came to the realisation that while he continued to live in the past, he wasn't going to be able to make his new life truly work.

"You walked away from that past," Enjolras told himself sternly. "You made your bed, now lie in it. You've got Alana. Life is pretty damn good with her in it, now quit complaining."

Life started to improve again after that. Enjolras took short naps during the day whenever Alana dozed off and he eventually stopped being quite so exhausted all the time. His excitement grew as she started babbling, only stringing together random letters to make gobbledygook but he would happily listen for hours on end if given the chance. When he heard her starting to try out new tones and patterns, similar to ones he'd use himself, he made sure he found time to read to her every day, noting the changes when she started to sound like she was making more sense even though there were still no real words spoken.

It was soon after that Alana started to pull herself up into a standing position using any furniture nearby for support. Within weeks she was able to sit back down again and even walk slightly, still holding onto nearby furniture to stop her from falling. Enjolras found himself smiling more and more those days, as he watched his daughter with pride. Her hair was starting to grow more thickly now and it was obvious she didn't just take after him with her eyes. He was glad, in a way, that Alana had inherited his golden curls instead of Charlie's red hair - it was one less thing to remind him of her.

On her first birthday, Enjolras did his best to make a fuss. He'd saved up for weeks to be able to buy Alana some decent presents, and it made his heart warm to see her face light up at them. Seeing her pull herself up, he settled back with a smile to watch her walk the length of the sofa as she so often did, then suddenly leant forwards when she let go and took a shaky step towards him. Enjolras's heart was in his mouth the whole time she made the few steps between the sofa and him, hands outstretched slightly so as to catch her if she stumbled and fell. When she reached him, he let himself relax and hug her tightly.

"My little star," he grinned, kissing her hair. "I'll never be able to keep an eye on you now," he teased.

"Da... da."

The word made him freeze, staring down at Alana with his mouth slightly open.

"Allie?" he said slowly. "Say that again."

"Dada." She spoke with more confidence this time, her smile lighting up her little face as he laughed excitedly.

"You're speaking!" he cried, scooping her up and spinning her round. "Oh my god your first word!"

It was impossible, he thought, to be happier than he was that day.

All in all, Enjolras decided that night whilst watching Alana sleep, he liked what his life had become. It was as far away from what he'd planned as was possible, but he didn't care. He had Alana and he loved her, and that was the important thing.