Just a pup, a les misérables fanfic

There was a triumphant, nearly arrogant grin on the boy's face. It was thanks to him Inspector Javert had been caught as a spy. The policeman felt a hatred of him the way he did of any criminal, especially a traitor to his country. And what was revolution except being a traitor? Now he would die at the hands of these criminals. He didn't mind dying in the line of duty, in service to the law. What bothered him at that moment was that a mere child had caused it. Then the child- Gavroche he heard his friends call him- started boasting.

"…Little people know when little people fight, we may look easy pickings but we've got some bite. So never kick a dog, because he's just a pup. We'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up. So you'd better run for cover when the pup grows up."

He would never expected it, but something about what boy said made him think back to another boy. The association was so wrong, he told himself. Nonetheless, he couldn't help it from coming to mind.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Inspector Gerard! Inspector Gerard!" The seven year old child shouted the policeman's name as he ran. While not a guard, Gerard was still at the prison often, and the boy respected him to an almost religious level. The guards there hated Javert, who would never acknowledge his Gypsy first name that tied him to his mother. Since she was still serving her sentence, Javert had to live in prison. The closest he came to knowing his father was the glimpses he caught of him working on the galleys, a thief doing his time.

The guards all expected Javert would be in prison well past his childhood. What could the son of a gypsy whore and a thief be except a criminal himself? Gerard was different. He always had a kind word for the boy, and once he had even allowed him to examine his gun and sword. To any boy, it would be a treat. To a boy who secretly wanted to be a policeman, it was a dream come true for a moment.

"Here comes that little brat." The guard talking to Gerard gave the boy a suspicious look. "I don't know why we can't arrest him now and be done with it. It will only save us trouble later."

"Let him be. I've told you before, he's never done anything wrong. What's the matter, young man?"

That was another thing Javert liked about Gerard. He always treated him like a man, not a boy.

"Sir, I heard one of the prisoners talking. He's hidden away pieces of metal and sharpened them into knives. He and some of the others are going to use them to break out tonight."

Everyone regarded him seriously at that.

"How did you find that out?" Gerard asked. Javert smiled.

"They think I'm too little to cause them any problems, but I know how to listen for things."

"Well you've done a fine job, son. You've probably even saved some lives."

All went as Javert hoped that evening. The escape was stopped before it started when the guards did "surprise inspections" of the prisoners. Unfortunately, things didn't go so well the next morning. He was walking around the prison yard when he felt someone grab him. It had been his bad luck that he'd lost track of time, and the guards hadn't thought to look for him there before letting the convicts into the enclosure. Not that they cared if the half gypsy boy was beaten up anyway.

"So you thought it would be clever to go to the guards, did you?' The biggest convict grabbed him before he'd even known he was there. Others gathered around. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be on the outside now. "

"Little snitch thinks he's some kind of police hound,' one of the others put in.

"Nah, he can't be a police hound. He's still a pup."

"Know what we do to pups?" The convict holding him asked. Before Javert could answer he'd been dropped to the ground and kicked hard in the ribs. Instead of staying down, Javert came up with his foot and kicked him where it would hurt the worst. That incapacitated the one convict, but brought down all the others on him. A grown man couldn't have faught them off, but that didn't stop Javert from trying.

What happened next was a blur of hitting and kicking. It would leave Javert with cracked ribs, various bruises, a split lip, and a ringing in his head by the time a shot was fired, breaking it up. He'd done his share though. One convict had a missing tooth, and another would have a black eye. A third was holding his stomach painfully. The boy would simply not give up the fight. He was breathless and couldn't make himself move now that the fight was over though. He soon felt Inspector Gerard helping him to his feet.

"You going to be all right son?" He knew he wasn't all right at the moment. Javert nodded. Gerard turned to the guards who were walking up. The look he gave them let them know they'd have a serious talk later. He proceeded to gently examine Javert's wounds as the convicts were restrained and taken away.

"I don't see anything life threatening. The ribs seem to be the worst. I'll take you to get them taped up."

It was on the way to see the prison doctor that Javert finally let himself cry, not in pain but in anger.

"I hate them! I hate convicts! That goes for my no good father and mother too! I'm not one of them! I'm not!"

"No one thinks you are."

"Yes they do! I hear how everyone talks, like there's no way I won't be a criminal someday just because I was born with scum like them. I was born in sin."

"Every man is," Gerard said in his kind voice. "We each have to choose our way and what will become of us. That's much more important than how we were born."

"How can I choose? What choice do I have?"

"You chose to do the right thing letting us know about the escape. "

"As if that maters. I'm still no better than a criminal to the guards. They let me get beat up."

"They were wrong. But you'll be rewarded for the good you do someday. Those who follow the path of the righteous get their reward eventually." He took out a cloth and wiped away the blood as best he could. Then he removed a medal from his own uniform and pinned it on the boy.

"What's this for?"

"Bravery," the policeman smiled. "You're a very brave young man. I think you should have your reward for it now. And when you're old enough, I'll help you to become whatever you want to be."

Javert didn't hesitate, fingering the medal as if it were a relic of a saint.

"I want to be a policeman. I want to be like you."

"Then I'll help you get the scholarships you need to get into the academy," Gerard promised.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gerard had kept that promise, and many times after entering the force he'd thought of him. They'd worked together on several cases, and Javert's respect for him had only deepened. That good man had helped him escape what might have been his fate otherwise.

The last thing Javert expected was to have another man, one who had been on the opposite side of the law this time, help him escape his fate again. He'd never expected that he would see something that reminded him of Gerard in Jean ValJean when he'd set him free. A convict who was a good man. Unthinkable!

He'd been dwelling on that ever since, but his thoughts were broken when he saw the body of Gavroche lying there. Just a child, but he'd stood up for what he thought was right. He'd had courage.

He and I were more alike than either of us knew. Javert thought. He couldn't stop the unwanted rush of grief for a boy who could have grown to become an incredible man. One more way the law had been wrong. Gavroche had not deserved to die. He glanced around, almost as if he could feel the spirit of Gerard behind him, and removed the medal he had always worn with pride. Then he pinned it on the child. The boy would never know that he had earned Javert's respect, but it felt right to do what he could to honor him. Somehow, he was sure the boy was enjoying a much richer reward. Perhaps soon he would have the chance to tell him in person that he was sorry, that he was proud of him.