Jean's father hadn't actually busted him out of jail until two days later. The entire time, Javert was worried, much like the rest of the police. Jean was a good lad, had didn't deserve to be sitting in jail, and there was the uncertainty of whether or not he would be bailed out this time.
However, the day rolled around that Monsieur Valjean called in, requesting his son's release, and wiring the bail money. Jean didn't look so cocky when he left that evening. Before, Javert had witnessed him strut out with a debonair attitude, but this time, he almost looked embarrassed, or ashamed. Of course, Father Madeleine had showed up, looking just as jovial as ever. He didn't look like he'd stressed over his grandson's condition at all the past few days.
Javert watched them leave, his hands folded behind his back. Deputy Allard walked up, laying a heavy hand on the young officer's shoulder. "Next time, he might be stuck here for good."
Looking at the tiled floor, Javert mumbled, "Let's hope there is no 'next time.'"
The next time Jean was caught stealing, Javert was at the office. He immediately stood when he saw Officer Colbert dragging the young man in by his elbow. Javert walked up to them quickly, asking, "Jean, you didn't steal again, did you?"
"Of course he did," Colbert answered for the young man. "He's just a rotten punk."
Javert scowled. "Don't talk about him like that. He's not just a thief." He turned saddened eyes to Jean. "Who was it this time, Jean?"
Jean just stared at the floor for a few seconds, acting as if he didn't intend to share his answer. Then he mumbled, "Tell ya later..." Then Colbert took him in the back to get him filed in.
Colbert approached Javert after Jean was behind bars, his arms crossed and his eyebrows knit together. "What is it with you and the Valjean kid? Why do you stick up for him like that?"
Javert sighed, and without looking up, replied, "It's called compassion. I wouldn't expect you to know anything about that, Colbert." He looked up at his fellow officer with narrowed eyes. "Jean only does what he does to help others. He's extremely selfless."
"He breaks the law, Javert. You need to learn the difference between what is right and what is wrong. Our job is to uphold the law, and showing pity for Jean isn't doing that."
"What if what is right and what is law aren't the same thing?" Javert knew he shouldn't be asking such questions. Colbert could easily report him for this, but for some reason, he didn't care in that moment.
Colbert left his desk at that point, and Javert went to check on Jean. The young man was sitting in his cell, staring at the floor, his hands folded in front of him. From a distance, it almost looked like he was praying, but when Javert drew closer, he saw that Jean's eyes were open, and he was merely deep in thought. He cleared his throat, and Jean glanced up at him, before stating, "It was Madame Palomer."
Javert cocked an eyebrow. "That strange woman that lives in the park?"
Jean nodded. "She needed bird seed for her pigeons. And I know she hasn't been eating, herself, lately. Any bread she's had, she's been sharing with the birds. She'd let herself starve before them." He was startled when the door to his cell slid open. "Wh-what are you doing?" he asked in surprise.
Javert stepped inside, closing the door behind himself. "I'm going to sit with you." He walked over, sitting on the concrete floor next to the bench Jean was on. "This is my break, anyway."
Swallowing, Jean looked down at the cracked, dusty floor. "Umm, thank you." After a moment of silence passed between them, he asked, "So, what's your life like?"
Javert looked back at him questioningly. "What?"
With a shrug, Jean elaborated. "You know a lot about me by now. I'm assuming you read my file already." When Javert looked away, he knew he was right. "So, tell me something about you. What were you like when you were my age?"
Thinking about the question for a moment, Javert took off his police cap, laying it on the floor. He sighed through his nose. "I was a lot like you, actually." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "I never really knew my father. He got arrested shortly after I was born. Burglary and attempted murder. After he got out, I...only saw him for a few minutes." He cleared his throat. "Then he disappeared, and I heard he got locked up again. I have no idea where he is now.
"It was just my mother and I for the longest time. She had different men all the time, but none of them stuck around long enough for me to get to know them. She died of syphilis when I was...maybe seventeen. Before that, I was stealing food for us, because she had a hard time keeping down a job. It was all I could do for her. No one would let me get a job because of who my father was.
"After she died, I emancipated myself in order to stay out of foster care for the next year. It wasn't too bad. I got to move out of my hometown, start over in a place where no one knew me or my parents. I decided to become a police officer, and here I am. It wasn't easy, but it was really worth it. I really feel like my own person now, and less like the shadow of my father."
When Javert finished his story, he looked up to see Jean staring at him. The younger man swallowed dryly, then looked away as he searched for what to say. He finally came up with, "Is that why you helped me? You took those groceries to Madame Faucheux, and you drove me to Monsieur Savatier's house."
Nodding lightly, Javert answered, "Yes, I suppose that's why I did it." He looked back at Jean. "How many more times are you going to be arrested?"
Jean shrugged, leaning back against the concrete wall. "Don't know." He paused, then turned to Javert. "How many times were you arrested when you were younger?"
With a little smile, Javert admitted, "I never was. I never got caught when I stole food." He laughed at Jean's bewildered expression. "It's all in technique. Maybe I'd teach you, if it wouldn't cost me my job."
Jean was out on bail a few hours after his little pow-wow with Javert. He couldn't understand the officer. Just who's side was he on? He seemed so different now from when they'd met earlier that summer. Javert was all law when he tackled Jean to the ground, keeping him there until the authorities could arrive. Jean hadn't been tackled many times before. It had been slightly frightening - not that much ever scared Jean Valjean.
And now, Javert was different. He was understanding, empathetic. He had helped Jean, almost like an accomplice at times. Javert had treated Jean with kindness, instead of pity, unlike the other officers.
That night, as Jean stared into the floor mirror in his bedroom, he saw a deviant - a mutt who took what he wanted without regard for others. It was hard to believe that Javert had once been like him, mangy and feral. Now Javert was a wolf, dignified and reserved. But that day, he'd changed in Jean's eyes. He was no longer the cold wolf Jean had seen him to be before. Now he was a hound, just like Jean, who saw the need in other people's eyes, and served that need when he deemed it appropriate.
Jean wanted to be like that. Where would this road end, the one that he was on? Constantly stealing, although for good purposes, would only lead him down a path where no one could reach him, help him out, bring him home. He thought about Javert's father, how he'd only met his son once for a few minutes. Jean never wanted that if he had a family someday.
That night, Javert hardly left Jean's thoughts. Could he turn his life around, like Javert had? He prayed that there was still a chance for him.
A/N: Hey, we actually had a review! Sweet! I hope you guys like this story so far. I know things are pretty slow right now, but things will get more exciting, soon. Also, I'd like to apologize for the inconsistency in the chapter lengths. I don't have Microsoft Word anymore, and I'm using Wordpad, which doesn't keep track of word count or pages, so I never know how long a chapter is until I go to post it. Anyway, here's the wall of fame.
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CastiellaWinchester94
