Summary: Fantine's ghost walks with Valjean during his nightly patrols as a Guard.
"Lovely evening for a stroll, Monsieur," said the spirit as she appeared beside Fauchelevent. "Making your rounds, I see? May I say, you look very handsome in your Guard uniform."
"Thank you, mademoiselle," he said, smiling slightly as he turned the corner.
"I feel much safer knowing that there are brave men like you out there protecting our fair city." She smiled up at him. "You know, Monsieur le Gendarme, you remind me of a mayor I once knew. He was a good, dutiful man who served his town well into middle age. Is Monsieur expecting any trouble tonight?"
"Well, there have been rumors of a student uprising that could take place any day now. And of course, gangs are always a danger on these streets."
"And if the student uprising were to break out tonight, then of course Monsieur would be duty-bound to suppress it?"
"Of course," said Jean stiffly, not wanting to think about it. "But I would do everything I could to negotiate a peaceful surrender before I fired a single shot."
"In order to fit in," Fantine whispered.
Jean nodded. "To fit in," he agreed.
"Monsieur must remember that he has a daughter who would be quite lost and alone if anything were to happen to him," she said.
"I doubt it," he said. "I am of little importance to her."
"Do no say such things, Monsieur," the scandalized ghost chided him. "She may have found a young man to love, but that does not mean that she has any less love for her father." She rested a hand upon his shoulder to prove her point.
"Why am I seeing you more often?" he asked her. "Not that I'm complaining, of course, but...am I going insane? Has living in the convent with no one but Cosette for company begun to take its toll on my sanity?"
"No," said Fantine sympathetically. "You have a strong soul. A man who emerged sane after nineteen years on a chain gang can endure anything, especially with Cosette at his side. If you don't mind my bragging a bit, I think she is the best comfort a man could have in his old age."
"Then what does this mean?"
"That you are dying, Monsieur," said Fantine.
"Dying?" Jean repeated incredulously.
"Yes, of old age. Time will catch up on you all at once, simply as that."
"How much longer do I have?"
"A year, more or less. You will be seeing me more often as the date gets closer."
Jean turned to her. "Fantine, going on without you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
"You're doing a fantastic job, mon cher."
"When will I die?"
"I don't know exactly. But I do know that it will be painless, like falling asleep."
"Like you."
Fantine nodded. "Like me."
"And Cosette will have someone to care for her?"
"You will see to it, Jean. If it is the last thing you do."
He nodded firmly. "Yes. I will."
"And soon, these conversations won't be just in your head. They'll be real, up there." She pointed to the sky. "And we can have them every day, forever."
"There's nothing I'd like better, Fantine. Truly, I'd do anything to bring you back." He swallowed hard. "It should have been me dying, instead of you. I was old, and you were so very young."
She kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry about it, mon amour. Such are the distributions of God."
