While Cosette dreamed of Marius in the garden and Marius gushed on and on about Cosette as Eponine trailed behind him dejectedly, a whole other story was unfolding on Rue Plumet, not all that far away from our star-crossed lovers. Namely in Valjean's bedchambers, where the man found his annoyance at his adoptive daughter's probing at his past fading into numbing thoughts of a certain inspector, worry pensively creasing his brow.

The inspector in question stood out the man's window, hidden from sight behind a shrubbish-tree and staring at the man he'd been chasing for so long.

And yet, unlike what most might think, Javert was not there to bust into the convict's house and arrest him.

That's where the question arose in the man's mind: Why, in the Lord's holy name, have I come here?

He knew half the answer already; he was confused, but he couldn't ignore the evidence that presented itself to him. The honey-ish prickling of heat that travelled up his neck and to his cheekbones, the way his heartbeat had picked up its pace, the puffs of air from his lungs that seemed to grow a tad more shallow… Good heavens, reading out that list one might think him out of breath from running.

Yet he stood there completely still, not moving a muscle.

He hated the bit of light that seemed to joyously rise in his chest at the thought of Jean Valjean. The latter was a man he not so long ago vowed to put behind bars and yet, during the encounter in the town earlier that day, when he realized that the man that had fled away from the inspector and Monsieur Thenardier could possibly be the man that had fled from him for countless years, why did his heart feel happier at the thought that the infamous 24601 was once again reachable to him? It wasn't because he was now easier to catch and haul back to the galleys, only so far from him as of now, the two separated by the wall the window he looked through was a part of. No, if that was the reason, Javert wouldn't be feeling the way he did.

God, did he hate many things in that moment, things including the affections he was plagued with and himself for letting those affections play at him like a marionette being pulled by its strings.

In that moment, though hating, Javert opened his mouth to sing, his voice falling from his parted lips in a way it hadn't before; instead of his loud, lawful voice filling the air out the window, he for once sounded tentative and unsure, quiet.

"In my life…" he sang carefully, eyes not leaving the man in the bedchamber, "I am not all that sure why, dear heavens, I find myself here." He took in a sharp breath. "Could it be...that he is growing into someone that I somehow might hold dear?" At this thought, the inspector let his gaze drop to the dirt. He felt a great sense of conflict within him; his heart swelled and clenched as Valjean filled his head, the convict angering Javert as his face grew hotter. "Does he know…the torment he's brought onto me? Does he see…that I hate this new feeling of glee?"

Javert heard a sound from inside the bedchamber and started, hoping against hope that he had not been seen. Jean Valjean had sat upon his bed rather, letting out a frustrated groan and kept his eyes away; the younger man was fortunately well concealed behind the spiny branches of the tree that hid him.

When Javert had regained his composure, he continued, voice softer, "Why does he stay so far away? Could I make this right if he hears what I say?" He swallowed thickly. He felt a pang deep within his ribcage as he looked upon the tired looking man."In my life…he has stolen so much more than a damn loaf of bread. He may carry with him my heart instead."

Meanwhile, Valjean sat on his neatly made bed, shoulders growing hunched and hands being wrung in his lap. He studied the floor intensely and, not for the first time today, he felt like a grand old headache was coming on, his worrying mind worn from the day's events.

Inspector Javert, the man he had successfully eluded for quite a bit of time now, had stood only feet from him and Cosette. Mere feet. He had luckily escaped, but it had been a close call and with a heavy heart.

Jean Valjean was a fatigued man. If he could, he'd sleep, but it was useless to try as he'd most likely keep himself awake with paranoid and nail-biting thoughts that his pursuer could very easily find him that very night.

It was with his head tilted downwards that he started to sing, normally grandiose voice tiredly faint in the evening air.

"In my life…" he went, "I fear he will find me again, like he's done every time. And I'm sure...that he's drawing closer to me in pursuit of my 'crime'." The former mayor shook his head, a contemplative expression adorned. His brow was knit and his hand travelled up to rest upon his chest, right above his heart. "Though I know…it is sure that he has already won, I still hope…that I can be more than 24601."

Jean Valjean then threw his head back, straightening himself in an almost lazy manner. A droll voice in his head told him that maybe in another life he could be happier than right then, that he and the well-meaning inspector could have been close. It would have pleased him if it could be so, but if the past decade or two were evidence of anything it was that the concept really was an unattainable notion. Still, in his troubled eyes there lingered a faint gentleness.

"Should I keep on running until I am free?" Valjean pressed on airily."Present myself to him in hopes that he'll see? In my life…I just wish he could be…He could see, differently…" He gave a heavy sigh and added, "What I'd do to make it true."

"In my life…" they sang in unison, at the very same time that Marius and Eponine shared together a thought not so far from them, "there is someone who touches my life."

"I'll be bound," muttered Valjean, his low voice a gravelly blend of remorse and conflict.

"He'll be found," finished Javert. And it's then that Javert, though not knowing what he had the intention of doing, reached his large hand up, fingers teasing at the window frame. The latch was right there for him to open…and doing so could change so many things…

But then there was a girlish scream that sounded from nearby, making Valjean stiffly sit upright, his eyes wide, and Javert freeze. Beneath his breath with a panicked look whitening his eyes and paling his visage he murmured: "Cosette!"

Then he hurried away in a rush, leaving Javert truly all alone.

The younger man sighed, feeling a burden weigh him down even more.