Well, I am both happy and sad to announce that at last this trilogy of mine is complete. Happy, because I can't believe it actually turned out exactly as I had imagined, and sad because my ValjeanXJavert paired stories are over. Well, for now at least...who knows what idea will come across me in the future. First came In the Debt of a Thief, then I'll Sleep in Your Embrace, At Last. I can't believe I've been able to finish all three in such quick succesion, its a first for me (as well as my first run of stories that are actually related to each other). Again, this story can stand on its own, as it is the third alternate ending I had in mind for "Les Miserables", but I would love it if people would be willing to read the other two and leave some comments/constructive criticism. I wanted to post it last night, but it was already pretty late when I finally finished typing and I was supposed to have shut down the computer, though instead I ran twenty minutes over my internet curfew. But its up now! (all I wanted was for school to finish today! Thank God for Fridays!) I realized my Valjean in this story is based heavily on the dialogue and overall character of the actor who portrayed him in the 1978 version of Les Miserables. Just thought I'd mention that for anyone who might care. ;]

Right now, I just want to thank every writer out there who continues to support this beautiful pairing, and for all of you who have read my series in all its upcoming. I'm really proud of it, and I can't thank enough the tons and tons of writers and their stories who helped inspire me and give me ideas for these stories to be completed. There are just too many to list (plus I'm feeling pretty lazy right now...ehehehe...and there are just too many to count!! I'm such a hopeless crazed fangirl...ehehehehe) And thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review! You can't imagine how much it means to me to read the great comments I get on my writing. They make me feel quite loved. Wow, I can't really think of anything else to say. Well, I guess its just on with the story now!

- Yukaido

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"Nooo!" Valjean bellowed, racing forward from the edge of the bridge and dashing to the spot where the man had stood just seconds before. But he was already too late. Javert, without any warning or implications of any kind, had dropped from the bridge as if he had a stone tied to his foot, some almost physical pull that had sought to plunge his very being into the clutches of death. Valjean gripped the stone bordering the bridge tightly in both hands, his nails digging into it and carving small cravats in the hard granite. The reality of what had just happened hit him with a force so strong, he almost staggered, buckling under its weight. Javert...Javert had just committed suicide.

Javert. The proud, haughty law enforcer. Javert, one of the city of Paris' finest Inspectors, known to every criminal in every corner of every alleyway, every man who had ever been convicted of wrong in his life, as a name to be feared. Javert, the man lest any unfortunate lawbreaker run into be locked up in jail, without an ounce of pity or mercy or remorse. But this man--this man, who Valjean had just witnessed make the decision to take his own life--this man had not been Javert. This man had been a hollow body, a cast away shadow of the man Valjean had feared his entire life. Had respected. No, this man had not been Javert. He had been a lost soul on the brink of eternity.

Chaos whirled through Valjean's mind, emotions entangling with desperate, rash thoughts, all leading back to the same conclusion: that this was wrong. Javert could not be allowed to take this decision upon himself. He was making a mistake! But in his old age, jumping into the torrential waters after Javert would be asking for his own death as well. It could only end in the loss of two lives that night to the raging Seine. But when his mind again accosted him, another realization flashed through Valjean. Living in a world without Javert would be like living forever bound, forever trapped in a hell infinitely more painful than even death itself.

Without another doubt, Valjean jumped into the Seine.

Immediately, Valjean was overtaken by the ferocity of the current, the waves making quick haste to pull him under. But he fought. In his time in the Toulon prison, he had been known to his fellow prisoners and even some of the guards as Jack because he possessed a nearly inhuman strength in breaking the boulders at the quarry, a strength which refused to diminish even after nineteen years of this grueling work. Even in Montreuil-sur-mer, when he was mayor, he had lifted the full weight of a loaded cart to save an older man named Fauchelevent who was trapped underneath it--Javert, he remembered, had been there to witness that--and then later, during his short recapture with him serving on the prisoner holding boat, Orion, he had shown a display of great strength yet again when he saved a sailor on board that had fallen from a mooring line while trying to help furl the sail. All in one instance, Valjean had been able to hoist the sailor to safety and "fall" from the ship into the sea, where he was able to secure his escape. It was under that pretense he had drowned, cutting off Javert's hunt for a few months at most. It had taken much strength to remain under the water while swimming away from the prison hold as not to be spotted--he would not give in now to death without a fight.

Finally, Valjean was able to thrash his way back to the surface, long enough to suck in a gulp of air before being pulled back under. But, in that short period of time, Valjean had managed to gain a slight perspective of his bearings back. He sensed he had already passed under the bridge and was now on the opposite side, the water pulling him further away from the center of the city. Now the Seine would twist towards the outskirts of Paris, where the waters would once again become calm and tranquil. If he could just last until then, he might have a chance of coming out of this alive. And if he could survive, quite a few years older than the Inspector, then perhaps Javert had a chance as well. His heart momentarily lightened with hope, only to be crushed moments after it had come. Javert had jumped into the Seine in the hopes of not coming out. He would not resist the current. No, Valjean couldn't expend himself on false, useless hopes. They wouldn't serve him now; he had to find Javert, and he had to find him quickly--before it was too late.

Valjean managed to resurface once more to suck in a breath, but already he could feel his strength fading. He could not drag this on much longer. This time, when the waves again pulled him under, Valjean stroked his arms and legs in the direction of the current, not against it, hoping desperately that he could somehow catch up to wherever the Seine had washed Javert to. That is, if he hasn't already sunk to the bottom...A chill ran through Valjean even with the frigid waters of the river having already soaked through his clothes to his unprotected skin, and he immediately banished the thought from his mind. But at last, solace and mercy were taken on Valjean's despairing soul: for there, just ahead, Valjean could at last see Javert. Relief swelled through him. As soon as it had come, however, it was gone, leaving in its wake a feeling that made Valjean's blood seem like ice. For now Valjean saw that Javert's eyes were closed, and his arms hung limply at his sides, giving no resistance against the rolling waves that carried his body further downstream. His mouth lay slightly open, all traces of the air above them gone from his lungs. It seemed as if death had already wound its way through Javert's soul.

"Noooo!!!" Valjean's mind again cried out, agony tearing through every ounce of his entire being. Frantically, Valjean began swimming towards Javert's limp body, winding his arms around Javert's waist and beginning his perilous and desperate journey back to the water's surface. Javert couldn't give up now! He couldn't give up on Javert now. Not after how much they had struggled and persevered through throughout both of their lives. Valjean wouldn't give up until everything in his power had been done to save this man. Already, Valjean could feel the current slowing down, but also, he realized, his last reserves of strength were failing him. He had not been able in this time to draw another breath of air from the surface. And Javert was no small man, considering his height and stature. His unconscious body was far too much for Valjean to carry, along with the weight of his own body, and no matter how hard he kicked, the surface didn't seem to be getting any closer. Slowly, Valjean felt his breath escaping him and a darkness threatened to cloud his mind.

"Please, just let me last a few seconds longer. Just a few seconds longer..." Valjean internally begged. And at the last possible moment, Valjean, still supporting Javert's body between his arms, broke the surface. Immediately, Valjean gulped in deep, grateful breaths of the cool night air. Still struggling to keep Javert's head above the water, Valjean slowly began swimming to the shore. Here, the river was tranquil once more, and before long, Valjean had hoisted himself and Javert's still, motionless body onto the grass next to the river's edge. Valjean collapsed onto the good, solid ground, his face lying downward in the damp grass, still heaving deep breaths from the rescue he had just taken place in. His old body ached from the strain he had induced on it, and his limbs were so exhausted, he could now barely feel them. But this exhaustion he must deal with later. Pushing away his body's loud protesting, Valjean struggled onto his knees and painfully crawled the short distance to where Javert's inert body still lay face up in the grass. Javert's eyes remained closed and when Valjean quickly reached to feel against the inside of Javert's wrist, he couldn't find a pulse. His anxiety reaching its peak, Valjean leaned his ear down to see if he could feel or even hear any breath coming from Javert's mouth. There was none.

Valjean sat back in stunned disbelief, too shocked to comprehend anything around him any longer. He couldn't be...no, I won't believe it! He can't be....

I was too late.

At this, Valjean gathered the upper half of Javert's torso in his arms, Javert's head falling limply to the side to rest against Valjean's shoulder. Already, Valjean could feel the tears gathering in his eyes.

"Breath, Javert!" he exclaimed, the stinging tears so overwhelming they threatened to overflow, "Breath!" He shook Javert's shoulders helplessly. "Don't die on me like this!"

Suddenly, at the moment Valjean thought he could hold back the racking tears no longer, he heard a weak cough from the bundle in his arms, and he felt the broad shoulders move up and down in quick succession as Javert's breathing sputtered back, the Seine water forcing its way painfully out of his lungs. Slowly, agonizingly slow, Valjean saw Javert's eyes open halfway, an almost dazed look becoming them. The man in his arms tilted his head slightly upwards, meeting the stunned, joyous gaze of Valjean. Javert peered at him behind half lidded eyes.

"Valjean?" he murmured, his eyes clouded over with confusion. Valjean smiled softly down at him, a mixture of both overwhelming happiness and relief, giving a small nod.

"Yes, Javert. It is I."

Javert continued to stare at the man in what appeared to be astonishment.

"But you are alive. I am dead." he stated in bewilderment.

"That is where you are wrong, Inspector. I pulled you out of the current." Valjean responded, his mind reeling at how close he had really come to losing him. Javert was lost for words, stumbling over his sentences as he desperately grasped for some sense to all of this.

"But...I do not understand," Javert stuttered, "How did this happen? How is it that you and I are possibly still alive?"

"Ssh. We can speak of this later," Valjean interrupted him, still smiling softly, "First, we must get back to the city where we can seek shelter for the night, and a good, warm fire to dry our clothes."

Valjean lightly shifted Javert's weight in his arms, making a movement to stand up, and the other man numbly moved to follow suit. Javert didn't understand any of it. Especially the fact that he had awoken to be in the arms of the very man he had been trying to escape from all along. However, for now, he was just too flustered to attempt to conclude an answer for any of this. But suddenly, an excruciating wave of pain rippled through Javert's body, and he fell back against Valjean's arms, hissing in a sharp intake of breath as he clutched at his abdomen with his right hand. To Valjean's horror, when Javert removed his hand, it was covered in blood.

Immediately, Javert's eyes glazed over in pain, and a distant look enshrouded Javert's seemingly far off gaze, frightening Valjean to his very core.

"I remember now," Javert said quietly, "It seems I did not plan out my own suicide very well. Where I fell...there were jagged rocks...I remember the pain when I hit them before falling unconscious..."

Another sharp intake of breath.

This time, Valjean was clearly aware of the tears spilling from the corner of his eyes. He had only just gotten Javert back. God couldn't be planning to take him away again so soon.

"Oh, Javert," Valjean choked out, his voice openly faltering, "Please don't leave me now. Not like this."

Javert gazed at Valjean's face calmly as the tears fell freely down the older man's cheeks, as one who has already accepted his fate would be expected to do. Then he mumbled softly.

"You know, you are the first person to have shed tears for me?" Oh, the irony that these tears would be bestowed onto the Inspector from the convict whom he hunted.

"Then don't let me be the last." Valjean begged woefully. Javert smiled weakly, fighting back another wince of pain.

"There are some things we cannot change, Jean." he breathed. He paused again, then lifted his eyes to gaze once more at the night sky, the stars at last reappearing in the black blanket of nightfall.

"So this must be God's way of punishing me," Javert grudgingly admitted, "At last, once I've found the one thing that I truly wanted all these years, I can only be alive to be with you for mere minutes before death takes you away from me again." Once more, he grimaced.

Valjean was too overwhelmed for a few moments to respond right away. Although Javert hadn't come out directly and said what was going through his mind just now, Valjean understood perfectly what his words had meant. And instead of coming out with a direct answer of his own, Valjean made a promise to the dying man he held in his arms.

"I swear to you, Javert, I will be wherever you are." he tearfully vowed.

At this, Javert allowed his head to lie against Valjean's shoulder, a slight smile gracing his face.

"I'm not sure if that is possible, my friend. For you are going to heaven when you die, whereas I am surely going to hell." he amended.

"Then I will deny Heaven's gates."

Javert smiled one final time, leaning into Valjean's shoulder for what he feared would be the last. Already he could sense his breathing becoming shallower, and faster and faster the pain emanating from his stomach was becoming dimmer.

"Well then...." Javert ended, "If that is to be the case, then goodbye Valjean, and may we be given forgiveness enough to meet each other once more in the afterlife."

With that being said, Javert drew his last breath and as his body finally came to rest in Valjean's arms, another soul ascended to Heaven's gates to join the countless others who had lost their lives that night at the barricades.

All that could be heard next to the gentle trickle of the river was the soft weeping of a man who's heart had been broken.

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When Valjean at last returned home, he didn't say a word to anyone, instead silently climbing the stairs and shutting himself in his room, lighting only a small candle enough to read at his desk by. That being done, he spent the rest of the night next to the flickering light, writing upon a faded piece of parchment he procured from the desk drawer.

How easy I can speak of it now, he thought, that I know the end is near.

Over the next few days, Cosette's father seemed to her to be almost lifeless, all traces of the glimmer his eyes usually held when she spoke with him gone. What had caused this sadness she could sense in him? Cosette wondered and worried, but she dared not ask in fear of refreshing some memory in him that might, she thought now, just shatter him. But the truth was, that Valjean had lost his will to live. As he had made clear to himself that dark night of the revolution, Valjean could not live in a world without Javert. Even after the proud, joyful event where Valjean had escorted his daughter up the aisle to give her hand in marriage, and after he had seen the loneliness finally vanish from Cosette's life upon her reuniting with Marius, he never gained back his will to live a day more without Javert. Only a few weeks later, Valjean followed him.

Upon Valjean's desk, Cosette found his will, the parchment of which he had written on for some many grueling hours until dawn the night he had returned to the Rue de l' Homme Arme. Oh, how it seemed she could just close her eyes, and she would open them to see her father sitting behind his desk once more, turning around to smile at her with that kind smile he always had, that happy glint still twinkling in his eyes. But she knew this could not be. He was gone...and she knew he had died a heartbroken man.

In his will, Valjean had left behind his life's story. At last, the secrets of her past were slowly unwound and revealed to Cosette after years of secrecy and holding back. At last, she knew the real truth of her mother and of her unforgiving childhood, and of the strangeness of this man named Jean Valjean. But none of this mattered to Cosette now, even after years of yearning for the truth from her father. For no matter what was said to her, no matter what happened, Jean Valjean would always be her loving father in her eyes. No, the only thing that mattered to Cosette was the last paragraph of her father's will, where his handwriting became uneven, as if the man writing it had been fighting back fierce emotions in trying to force the words onto the paper. This is what it read:

My love died the night of the barricades in my arms. I do not know if I can live without him. No. I know that I cannot. Please, do not despair for me, Cosette, when I am gone. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this. Just listen to this last lesson I leave to you, Cosette. If ever there comes a time in your life where you are certain of something you believe to be true, please, do not ignore it and push it aside. Act upon it. I've seen this happen many times in my life, child, from your mother who thought it right to sell herself to make enough money for your care, to Enjolras, the revolutionary leader, and the rest of the school boys, even Marius at one point, who believed it their duty to sacrifice their lives at the barricade to bring freedom to the people they fought for. This was the final mistake I made in my life. I didn't tell this man my true feelings for him until it was too late, because I was too afraid of being rejected. But when I finally did, he felt the same way for me as I did for him. If only I had acted sooner, he may have been alive today with me. But instead he died in my arms. And my heart died alongside him. So please, Cosette, I only ask one thing of you now. Please, just say a small prayer for me when I at last have left this world, that I may find him once more wherever he may be.

Signed,

Jean Valjean

Forever your loving father

Cosette felt Marius's lips softly touch her forehead, and his hand lightly wiping away a tear from her cheek as she cried silent tears before her father's grave. He smiled at her sadly, and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder one last time before slowly standing to leave her alone to her thoughts. Cosette listened to his footsteps quietly receding into the distance, not once moving her eyes from the small gravestone before her. The last thing Cosette thought before she too stood to leave the cemetery was, "This proves how love can overcome even death." On Cosette's request, one line had been engraved under the humble name, "Jean Valjean". Cosette never discovered the other man's name. She never found out if he was a man she had known during her life, or a figure from her father's past who he had at last run into once again. But she did know this: her father had loved him with all his heart. All she could do was pray.

And this is what the line read: May they be reunited in the Lord's loving embrace.

End

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One confession I must make. I felt as if I should be crying when I finally completed this. T.T I've never written a tragedy before. I mean, yes, I've killed characters off in my stories, but I've never actually kept them that way. I always find a way to bring them back. I'm sorry if I depressed anybody, but it was just such a great, and at the same time, woeful idea, I had to write it. My friend Yuki made a good point though...maybe I should have written this story second and I'll Sleep In Your Embrace, At Last as the last story in the trilogy...to end on a happier note. But I guess what is done is done. Sorry! But, please review and tell me what you thought!

Au' revoire!