Summary: Fantine's ghost's perspective as Valjean carries Marius through the sewers.
Upon arriving in limbo, the first thing they did was tell me his real name. Jean Valjean. I never heard it from his own lips, but hearing it from Saint-Pierre was the next best thing.
This is far above and beyond anything I ever would have asked of him. First going to the barricades to look for Marius, and now this. When I made him promise to take care of my daughter, I never imagined that anything like this would come up in a million years, but I love him all the more for doing it. I can only hope that this Marius fellow is worth it; that he is my daughter's true love and will bring her nothing but security and happiness. Even I wasn't stupid enough to fall in love at first sight. If he turns out to be anything like Félix, I shall bring my eternal wrath down upon him. The fact that he fought in a revolution indicates that he is not, but I worry about his sanity if he become suicidal at the possibility of losing Cosette. And the way he treated Éponine shows that he may be a rather shallow and oblivious, if not downright cruel, person. She may have been a bully to Cosette at one time, but it was only because her parents were doing it, and it certainly didn't deserve the death penalty.
It is strange to have a daughter who is nearly the same age as you.
Oh, how I wish that I had told Jean my entire story, so he could have warned Cosette not to fall into the same trappings of which no one warned me! I was too embarrassed to tell him, for fear that he might judge me; but now I know better and it is too late. How horrible for a mother not to be there for her daughter, for a wife not to be there for her husband-in-spirit! Had it occurred, the earthly realm might have called it a marriage of convenience, and it would have been convenient- for deepest love.
The sewers are dark, but I can see clearly. The water is rising now. He is up to his neck in it. I did not think it was possible to die twice. Until it was about to happen to me, I scarcely thought it possible to die once. But I am dying a second time as I watch this man I love so dearly suffering so much for- let's face it- my sake. Every step, every stain upon his sacred body, fills me with great anger at the injustice in the world. I would give anything to be at his side, giving him support and guidance. But alas, it is not to be for us. Not now. In his hour of need, I am powerless. There is no worse feeling. Believe me; I know. It is a small comfort to know that never once has he regretted his promise to me.
First Champmathieu, then Javert, and now Marius. I would say he was stupid if I did not realize that this was not so. He is killing himself for his family, strangers, and even enemies; and in a terrible way it makes me happy that he is becoming closer to me every day. Bent and humbled, covered in filth, he is more handsome than ever to me because he radiates a saint's divine light. The strength in his muscles is nothing compared to the strength in his soul; one will soon give out, while the other will endure forever.
I silently pray for God to bring him home. Please, don't let him drown down here. Don't let him fall and never be found. Don't rob him of any more of his dignity. Don't let him get lost. Let him see his child again. It is the first time I have thought of her as his child. It pains me, but what rightful claim do I have over her now? She is not even 'ours'.
Did you not think that angels must sometimes pray too?
Who is that man speaking to him beside the gate? He seems vaguely familiar.
My throat catches as I realize that it is Monsieur Thénardier, the husband of that vile woman who treated my Cosette like a slave, and who is in his own right a very vile man. He is going by some other name now, and has tried on three separate occasions to rob Jean. Jean's only hope is to remain in the shadows so that he is not recognized.
Oh, thank God! Thénardier has a key. Salvation is yet possible. Oh, monsieur, I will forgive you everything if you let Jean out of here unharmed.
Jean, in his resourcefulness, gives Thénardier the ring. The rich boy has been robbed; so be it. It is a small price to pay for my daughter's hand. The gate opens and light floods in. The hard part of Jean's journey is over. I was not a religious woman in life, but I have found something to worship since then. Or rather, someone.
It is Javert.
No, not Javert. Not now. Oh, Jean, why do you have to be such a hero all the time?
Javert folds his arms and says something about bringing criminals to justice. Jean keeps his head. Just like the time on my deathbed- I would never forget that dark, furious face. I am proud of the fact that my last action as a living woman was to rise out of bed to defend Jean.
Jean says something, softly without raising his voice, but Javert seems to back off just a tiny bit. This is Jean's power. He insists on getting a carriage for Marius to take him to his grandfather's house. Javert is breaking. He holds up a gun- and then drops it into the river.
Jean's good deed has inspired mercy. Javert is human, after all, and Jean works miracles.
Cosette, if you ever do anything to hurt your papa, you will answer to me.
