"No." Enjolras shook his head, glaring daggers at Courfeyrac's phone. "We aren't calling the others. You want Jehan knowing how you fall apart because you see him die? Do you want Combeferre knowing I've made a fool out of myself because I can't handle simple life here? You'll keep it to yourself, Courf, I'll keep it to MINE." It was, as much as anything, an order like he might have given there, and his voice was sharp as he issued it. "We can help each other, sure. But if the others...They can't know."
They couldn't tell anyone else the details. Enjolras would have none of them know that stuff. He'd learn to deal with it instead. It was still possible, wasn't it? He hoped so.