a/n: short, self-indulgent drabble about javert's backstory


i.

You are seven. Your mother has just been arrested. She was a thief, and you are now alone. Men in big coats with strong, clear voices and broad, sweaty hands have just taken your only mother in the world away.

You cannot bring yourself to care.

ii.

The orphanage is dirty, disgusting, cobwebs and dust and bunks like boxes for children to sleep in. You make do with what you have. The blankets are too thin to keep the cold out. You pray each night you do not fall sick.

One day, you do. That is the day you stop praying.

iii.

You have no faith in god. You rest it instead in man. Someday, you shall one of them, with a big coat and an unaccented voice. Someday, you will take away people like your mother, like your father, take them away and create others like you.

You will do good in the world.

iv.

Children have an endless capacity for cruelty. Especially for things so unlike themselves. You create a list in your head. Each and every slur, defined and filed away. They call you whore's son, and circus trash, but nothing hurts more than the laughter. As if the mere idea of him as a policeman was nothing but a joke. Soon, you grow thick skin. Soon, you stop reacting.

You cannot bring yourself to care.

v.

You work twice as hard, for half as much. You climb through ranks, slow and sure. Each step forward brings new scrutiny, deadlines and accusations piling down on your shoulders. But you have worked for all you have. You are honest.

You are not your mother.

vi.

They send you to release a man. He is a thief, like your mother, but with a strong voice and broad palms. You are not sure what to make of this man, contradictory to what you have always known. He has his convictions, and his own faith.

You are not sure this man should walk free.

vii.

Valjean breaks his parole. You have predicted this from the start. Nobody can defy the laws of the world, step over the dichotomy, and survive. You task yourself with finding the man, determined that justice find him and run it's course.

There is no god, but there is man.

viii.

You have thrown away decades of your life in pursuit of this man. You run on faith alone, faith in the justice of the world, that it should balance in the favor of equity. There is a revolution. It is of no concern to you, but there is balance to uphold. What is justice, after all, without balance.

What are you, without balance?

ix.

You are fifty-three. You have thrown away half your life in pursuit.

And today, you have thrown away your faith.

x.

You are Inspector Javert. You have failed.