When Cosette awoke the next day, she didn't know what to do. She sat up in the unfamiliar- but comfortable- bed, and felt extremely awkward. She'd never been a guest in someone's house for any extended period of time before, and had no idea how to go about it.

But am I really a guest? She had no idea.

She didn't remember falling asleep the night before, but she was unsurprised. She'd been exhausted.

She found a clock and it was eight-thirty. Marius must have gotten back quite late- he didn't leave until after ten-thirty, and she'd been asleep when he got back. He could still be asleep. Cosette bit her lip- what if he hadn't had a chance to tell grandfather and everyone that she was there? She didn't want to just waltz downstairs and have Marius' Aunt and Grandfather look at her in surprise, and then have to sit with them and eat breakfast for the next half-hour without Marius. Besides, she had no idea what to tell them about her father. She cringed at the idea of having them know what happened, even if it had been a mistake. But they seemed rather judgmental, and Cosette would stand by her father no matter what. She did not want an argument.

But what if they were all waiting for her? She didn't know if they were the kind of family who always dined together, including breakfast. She and her father almost always ate together, but that was only because they had the same sleeping habits. They both woke early, so they ate breakfast together. On the occasional day she'd sleep late- those days were very common when she had been with Marius in the garden- he'd eaten alone and had Toussaint make something for her. But was everyone downstairs, aware that she was still upstairs, dawdling, hungry and waiting for her?

She cringed, really not wanting to go downstairs. But she got out of bed and began dressing. After she'd dressed and was in the midst of brushing her hair, someone knocked at the door. She went over and opened it. It was Nicolette.

"Good morning, Mademoiselle," she said cheerily. "I came to inquire if you'd like to join the family for breakfast."

"Oh!" Cosette said, relieved that she'd gotten some help. "I would. I'll be down in a moment, after I put my hair up. Thank you for coming to get me. Oh- do you know whether Marius has told his grandfather I'm here...?"

"Monsieur Pontmercy has informed his family. Monsieur Gillenormond is pleased that you are staying here."

Cosette smiled. "I'll be right down. Thank you."

She found her combs and fastened her hair back, and then went downstairs. Grandfather looked unsurprised to see her. In fact, everyone greeted her rather happily and seemed to suspect nothing. Only Marius had something of a shadow in his eyes, knowing the truth. She wondered what had happened at the jail the night before.

After breakfast, she looked meaningfully at Marius, who took her into the living room.

"It's not over yet," he said simply. "There's a lot more to this case that guilt or innocence. To get him out, we're going to need to prove his innocence, rather than just claim it. Which means there will be a trial."

"Oh," Cosette said, and buried her face in her hands. Yesterday, her life had been simple- she'd had little more to worry about than what dress would look better on her. But today?

Her stomach turned over guiltily. She barely had a right to be upset, compared to how horrible her father must be feeling.

"Is he alright? Is he safe? Do you think they're feeding him well? Is he warm enough?"

Marius grimaced. It was likely that his well-being was severely below even Cosette's worst fears. "I can try to see if they'll let us bring him something," he sidestepped the question.

"Oh, that's a good idea!" Cosette said, and promptly left to pack some things.

An hour later, Marius was at the jail again. He was greeted by the news that his future father-in-law was being held without bail.

He just politely smiled and gave the police no reaction. Nothing to use against him. He was allowed back into the room he'd talked to Valjean in before.

He had stayed up almost the entire night before thinking over his choices, and this was the decision he came up with.

"Jean Valjean," Marius said. "Here's what has to happen, for me to get you out of jail. I will be your lawyer. But to do that effectively, I can't let any personal feelings get in the way, and neither can you. We have to trust each other, and you have to tell me the truth. No lies, of omission or otherwise. Do you understand?"

Valjean didn't say anything.

"I'm trying to help you!" Marius said angrily. How could this man be so ungrateful?

"I don't want to be helped. I want you to promise to take care of Cosette. What's happened to me is done. I have lived my life."

"Fine. If you don't want help, then you won't get any. But keep in mind, no one wants to let you rot in here, like a member of some chain gang. And it's going to get a lot worse. You won't be here for long. In a few weeks, you'll be in the galleys, which will make this place look like Versailles."

"I am no stranger," Valjean said calmly.

Marius slammed his fist against the table between them. "Don't you want help?" Marius exclaimed. "Every man wants something. What do you want?"

"I want Cosette to be happy," he said.

"You can't be that selfless. That can't be the only thing you want," Marius baited him, sensing he was nearer. "Don't you want something for yourself?"

"I've never been a man who needed a lot. I do not need material pleasures, I never needed money or fancy things. I had her, and I was happy."

"There. That's it," Marius said, understanding. "You want to see her."

Valjean closed his eyes. He was silent for a long time, but then Marius could see his shoulders shaking. "Monsieur Pontmercy, you are a good man. I know it. I know you will take care of my daughter, and make her happy... but you must understand. I never wanted anything. For my nine years with her, I never did anything for myself, because I never wanted anything. As long as she was with me, I was happy. She was all I had, all I ever wanted. She was my happiness, the light in my life, the warmth. Even now, I will be fine with the jail, as long as I knew she was happy. And..."

He could barely let out this last part, afraid it was selfish.

"And as long as I could see her sometimes. To hear her voice, at least, and see her smile... she's all I have. I just want to see her- one a week, even... less... Just to know that she's there, and that I'll see her again. That's all it would take to keep me alive."

He sat back, having admitted what he truly needed. Marius stared at this man in amazement.

"Well I'm afraid that's impossible," he said curtly.

Valjean snapped his eyes open, shocked by this young man's cruelty. But in a minute, even that subsided. Of course he couldn't see Cosette. A man like him, talking to a young woman like her, as if they were family? They were not family. She did not belong within miles of him.

"I understand," he resigned.

"No, you don't," Marius said, his voice softening. He leaned in towards Valjean, and put his hands on the table. "You cannot see Cosette while locked up. Like I said, in a week or so you'll be transferred to the galleys. You cannot expect me to bring Cosette to the galleys. I will not do that."

That was his reasoning? Valjean's heart thawed. Why, of course the boy was right. Man. Whatever Monsieur Pontmercy was, he was right. Cosette did not belong there, among rapists and murderers and thieves.

"She'll be terrified, and if one of us turns our back- I can't even think of it," Marius shuddered, and Valjean did too. "Those men are animals, and the least they could do to her would be yell obscenities she doesn't even understand. But you're not that kind of man. You don't belong there.

"You still haven't told me what you did. I have no idea how guilty or how innocent you are, and keep in mind that I'm not promising anything. But I promised Cosette I would try to get you out, and I will. If you'll let me defend you in court, to act as your representation, I believe I can help you... but only if you trust me. This is for you, but it's also for her, you see? She wants you out- if you just sat here and didn't fight, you'd be giving up, and you'd hurt her more than if you really had committed those crimes.

"And if you fight, you might be able to see her again. She could come to the trial," Marius said.

"Are you coercing me?" Valjean said.

"Yes," Marius admitted. "If you promise to trust me, or at least try, then I'll promise to help you. And then, if I can at least get you to trial, you can see her again. I'm asking for you to try and fight for your own freedom, and in return, you get what you want."

"I just have to let you defend me?"

"If you're as innocent as Cosette believes, then it should be no problem. And then you can live with us, just like we'd planned."

"Do you trust me?" Valjean asked. "I'm supposed to trust you with my happiness, my freedom... but what do you think?"

"You've yet to tell me anything helpful to persuade me one way or the other. But I'm inclined to think you're good."

"And why is that?"

"Cosette lived with you for nine years. For half her life, you were teaching her morals and raising her. You are either the very best liar in the world," Marius said, "Or a good man. For anything less than either of those things could not have existed beside her. Which is it?"

Valjean did not answer.

"Fine," Marius snapped. "We'll get to that part later. But let's begin," he opened the file. "Let's go through your charges together, shall we?"

Once Marius left, Cosette took herself upstairs and with the help of Nicolette, ran herself a bath. She hated feeling useless, and this was precisely how she felt at the moment. She couldn't bring her father home. Marius had said she could help once it came time for the trial- her accounts of life growing up with her father would help prove his innocence- but Marius had not started researching yet. And she couldn't go to the jail, because Marius would not take her.

Though she huffed and complained, she was secretly glad. She did not want to see her father bound in chains, wearing a prisoner's uniform and a number, just like the brutish men she'd seen passing once. She would not be able to bear the image.

So she sought refuge. Sleep was the best thing, but that was not an option. Marius made her feel better when he was near, but he was out. She could not stand to sit with grandfather or Aunt Gillenormond and pretend nothing was wrong, so she went by herself.

She wanted to talk to a priest, and made a note to herself to ask Marius to take her to church later. Things would be much easier if people would let me out on my own, she complained. But she immediately revoked it- she had no desire to be out alone. The lack of organization to the city wildness made her feel frightened, and she did not have enough experience with it to face it alone.

She felt the hot water all around her, and knew it had been the right choice. It was comforting. The weight of the water surrounded her, and the soft scent of lavender from the bath salts made her drowsy, but in a thoughtless and calm way. Her hands drifted atop the glassy surface of the water, pretending it was thick and hard and protective, not liquid. She pretended she was encased in some kind of armor, not naked and exposed.

But as quickly as the comfort came, she suddenly felt incredibly threatened. She felt lonely and scared, and desired company. Her heart picked up speed, and her mind flashed over the sick memories of the previous evening.

'Jean Valjean!'

She shook her head, but could not rid it of the images of the police officers dolling out blows onto her father's back. She felt her fingers, freezing again, as they had been the night before, the ice beneath her feet, the sharp, icy shards blowing in the biting wind. She heard her own yells, drowned out by the wind. She heard the quiet of the apartment she used to share with her father, with nothing but the ticking of the clock, foreboding. A reminder that he was not there to protect her anymore.

She wanted to scream. Instead, she put her head under the water, feeling the warm bathwater press into her ears, silencing everything for a moment. She stayed under until her lungs burned, until she remembered that she was still alive.

Hurriedly, she washed her hair, got out of the bath and dried off, dressing again and running downstairs. After searching several empty rooms for any inhabitant, any at all, she found and talked to Nicolette and the cook mindlessly, finding that pretending nothing was wrong was actually the best comfort.