My thanks to Nurzubesuch who beta-read the story. All errors remaining are mine.

Chapter IV

Thankfully, once the night was over, the worst of the sickness that touched Javert was too. When the doctor came back, as promised, the fever had already been reduced to a somewhat more reasonable level. It couldn't be said that Javert was completely cured, however he was out of danger, unless he got careless and exposed himself once again to the elements without taking proper precaution.

Javert woke up during the middle of the afternoon and, while he was still a bit disorientated, there was nothing left from the delusional state he had been in during the night.

"Valjean?" he called out, when he realized that he was still in bed, even though the sun was shining outside, telling him it was the middle of the day, but not knowing how much time had passed since he last remembered.

His grumbling stomach told him it had been quite a while since that last meal and he realized belatedly he wasn't wearing the same nightshirt as before, even though he couldn't, for the life of him, remember changing clothes.

"Javert!" Valjean exclaimed as he entered the room, alerted by Javert's cry. "You're awake!"

"Your power of observation is simply astonishing," Javert muttered dryly, voice a bit rough, but stronger than it had been the night before. "What day is it?"

"Wednesday," Valjean answered promptly, having anticipated the question. "You've been out for about twenty-four hours. Well, you've been conscious during the night, but your fever was too high for you to remember I think."

Javert frowned, trying to jog his memory but Valjean was right, he couldn't remember anything. He hoped nothing too shameful had happened. However, judging by the fact his clothes had been changed, he wouldn't bet on it.

"Who dressed me?" he asked, almost accusingly.

Valjean refused to apologize or feel guilty about it. He had done the one and only thing he could have under the circumstances and he would do it all over again in a heartbeat if he had to.

"I had to put you in a cool bath, because of the fever. There was no other way to break it," he explained succinctly, in a voice that told Javert he shouldn't try to argue the point and, indeed, he was not.

He was certainly not happy to know that the mayor had had to take care of him as actually a child, without his acting the part obviously, but he couldn't blame Valjean.

"Thank you," he murmured, as if the words cost him a lot, but Valjean didn't comment; he simply nodded.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked and Javert acquiesced.

"I'm hungry, to tell you the truth," he said forwardly, not waiting for Valjean to ask the question, knowing it was not the time to try and be prideful but actually ask for what he needed. "Could I have something to eat before you go to work?"

Valjean blinked, not about the request for the food – as he had been expecting it due to the fact that it had been more than a day since Javert's last meal – but the other part. His inspector couldn't be serious.

"You cannot possibly think I'm going to leave you alone when you're sick!" Valjean exclaimed as if it was an aberration to even think of it.

Javert raised his eyebrow.

"I'm feeling much better. I assure you, you do not need to babysit me," Javert stated but Valjean wouldn't hear a word of it.

"It has nothing to do with your ability to take care of yourself. It's a matter of principles. You do not leave a ch- someone alone when they are sick. I'm not going to the factory."

The almost lapsus didn't escape Javert's notice and his eyes narrowed. He really didn't like the fact that Valjean seemed to be forgetting the truth of who he really was and he suddenly wondered if his sickness hadn't made things worse.

"I'm not a child, Valjean," he countered, his voice dangerous and Valjean lifted his hands up in surrender.

"I know, I know. I promise I haven't forgotten. It was just a slip of the tongue but I did mean a person. I assure you, even as an adult, I would tell you the same thing."

Javert scrutinized his face, looking for any trace of lies, but didn't appear to find any. He relented. Apparently, Valjean did mean that he would do the same thing for an adult and it... surprised him less than he would have thought some months ago. However, he couldn't let him do that. He was the mayor of the town, as well as the man in charge of the whole factory. He had already missed two days of work and was well within the third.

"You have to go. You're the mayor, you must have more important things to do than staying home with me. If anything happen, there is always Madame Antoinette."

"No I don't."

Javert blinked. Then frowned. Then argued.

"What do you mean you don't? How can you have nothing else to do?"

That was impossible and he didn't abide with Valjean lying to him now. The man had been honest to a fault up to now and he wasn't going to let that change just because he caught a little cold.

"Of course I have other things to do, but that was not what you said. And I can safely say, I have nothing more important to do," Valjean repeated, insisting of this point and Javert found himself speechless.

How could the man even believe for one second that he was more important than the rest of the town because, in the end, that was what he was doing, choosing to take care of him instead of doing his job and taking care of the whole town at once. However he could see in his eyes that the man wouldn't relent. He was stubborn and would probably insist on staying with him until he was completely back on his feet and that just wouldn't do.

Javert still nodded.

"Alright, I won't say anything else about you staying here, today. But tomorrow, you're going to the factory and-," he continued, raising his voice as the man was apparently going to argue with him once again. "I'm coming with you."

Valjean shut his mouth, swallowing the argument that he was going to advance and frowned, seeming to think about the proposition.

"Are you sure it's a good idea? Would it not cause you to be sicker again?" Valjean asked, not really sure he remembered how well children got better once the worst was over, his memories too thin to be more than just flashes.

Javert shook his head.

"I'll be alright tomorrow, perhaps still a little more tired than usual but it's hardly something to worry about if I'm staying at your office. I will just have to be careful not to be cold again and... warn you if I'm feeling chills."

The last part was said in a whisper, some part of him embarrassed because he had known he was too cold the day they had been out and if he had only listened to Valjean instead of shutting his body out and insisting everything was alright, that they could continue, he would never have been sick in the first place. He had known all along he should have listened but hadn't wanted to give in.

Valjean, apparently hadn't realized that he had. He had simply thought the cold had sneaked up on Javert instead of being deliberately ignored for the better part of the day. His eyes turned severe.

"Yes, you will," he said, his voice letting no place to argument, even if Javert had been wanting to say anything of the sort.

He acquiesced despondently, lowering his eyes under the almost-glare that was directed at him, showing once again the urgency of finding the gypsies before there was nothing left of the man he once was, except for memories.

Valjean's gaze softened and he almost cursed under his breath about his continuing failure to remember, first that Javert was an adult, then when he did remember that part, that he was beginning to feel the same emotions a child would.

"I'll go get something for you to eat and drink and if you're still feeling better tomorrow, then I'm taking you with me to the factory," he said, getting up to do just as he said.

"Valjean!" Javert called as he was reaching the door and he turned back questioningly. "Thank you."

Valjean smiled at the obvious afterthought.

"You're welcome."

To say that the workers and the foreman were surprised when the mayor showed up with his little guest in tow was an understatement and the whispered gossip spread rapidly around the tables. However, no one made any remark to the man in question, or the child who stayed so quiet and so well-behaved in the boss' office. Besides, it was heart-warming for a good part of the employees to see their boss not on his own for once. Most of them were grateful he had found someone to spend time with, as he had always seemed so lonely before.

Javert had to admit that part of the reason he had wanted to go to the factory with Valjean had nothing to do with getting the man working once again – though it had been his primary concern – but because he was bored out of his mind by staying home, especially now that he didn't have anything more to investigate in Valjean's house. However, it turned out that his day at the office was hardly more exciting and watching Valjean's work did nothing to ease the feeling of absolute uselessness that was beginning to be his daily routine.

He chose not to say anything about it to the mayor though, for fear it would make him decide not to stay and, therefore, render his insistence to come and suffer here through the day completely moot. No, he would simply have to bear it until the end of the day which, thankfully, was not going to be for very much longer.

He curled himself down in the chair he had requisitioned as his own, thankful that for once Valjean had decorated the room as it was proper for a man of his standing instead of the bare necessities he used at home. He supposed it was not to raise questions from the people who would be visiting the office during his working hours. Javert didn't even notice when his musing became muddled and he finally succumbed to sleep, his tiredness not having completely disappeared from the previous days, as he had warned Valjean the day before.

Valjean did have plenty of work to make up for, as he had already missed three days. Being mayor was not exactly without problems and he had to admit, he feared to think how much he would have had to do had he continued to stay home, without Javert's insistence. However, he was now putting a final point to his day and, once he put his pen down and turned to his guest, ready to tell him he was done, he stopped right in his track and let a small smile grace his face.

Javert was currently asleep, curled up in his chair, seeming without a care in the world. Valjean frowned, hesitating about waking him up because he certainly needed the rest. He could not stay there, though, and he wasn't sure Javert would appreciate the alternative. Oh, well, he could always berate him once he woke up.

Carefully, without a sound, he approached the little figure and lifted him up, an arm under his tights and arranged for the child's arms to come rest around his neck so that he could carry him with one arm only. Javert stirred in his sleep, opening slightly his eyes, but Valjean shushed him before he had time to completely waking up.

"Shush... Go back to sleep, it's alright," Valjean whispered and, while a few weeks ago Javert would have immediately fully woken up at such an order, now he only went straight back to sleep, snuggling without even realizing it against Valjean's shoulder.

Thankfully, there was no one left in the factory to see the spectacle and Valjean quickly made his way through the streets, ignoring all the eyes lingering on him, curious about what was going on and just how close the man was to the child he had taken to work with him that day. And, amidst all of these wondering glances, one persisted as long as the mayor and the child were still in view.

Watching carefully, making sure the child was not faking sleep but was actually soundly in the realm of dreams, the old woman smiled to herself. It was time to carry out her promise.

Valjean had barely put his nose outside, the following day, that he heard the whole town buzzing about the group of gypsies being back on the docks, just as before. People were complaining, even though there had been no theft of any sort reported and that, for the moment, all the gypsies had done was park their caravans and nothing more. As the rumors circulated around them, Valjean looked at Javert who was walking at his side, having decided to come to the factory with him once again. Javert nodded.

He had realized immediately that the gypsies had to be the same and the fact they revealed themselves now, as if they had never left, meant that the old woman who had put the curse on him had apparently decided he had learnt the lesson she had set out to teach him and thought it was time for the enchantment to be lifted. However, unlike the moment she had chosen to curse him, it was apparently his decision to make.

It should have been easy. It was easy to tell Valjean they had to go immediately but, privately, in his thought, as both of them changed their course to the docks, he was reeling, fighting his doubts, his hesitation and his anxiety. He should have been jumping of joy, but all he could think about was: what was going to happen once he was back to normal?

He had, without even realizing it, let Valjean become an integral part of his life, not as an obsession to be caught as before, but as someone who was there, beside him, during the day, someone he could talk to, listen to or simply coexist with, in the same room, quietly, comfortably. Was all this going to disappear once he was an adult once again, once he was back to his post and in a position of authority, somewhat having the power to decide about Valjean's fate?

It was one thing for the man to be so at ease with him, even knowing who he really was, when he was a child, because there was nothing a child could do with the knowledge he was an ex-convict on the run, nothing a child could do to convince the authorities that the mayor of a town was someone who should be thrown into jail. However, even with his reassurance to Valjean he would not bring him back before a court, the balance of power would tip off and who knew how Valjean would react to it. He would probably lose the only person on this earth he could have called a... friend, he guessed the right word was, as strange as it may have seemed. He had a lot of acquaintance, but none of them had ever come closer than that, except for this once.

However, friends may not have been the right word, because it included a relationship on an equal footing. He knew it wasn't that. He knew that Valjean, for all the respect he gave Javert even in this form, could not completely dissociate from the fact that the person in front of him was barely six year old, at least physically, and the effects of the curse had made Javert look upon quite a few of Valjean's actions as someone would observe a father's action. He had behaved how Javert had always imagined – when he had allowed himself to imagine it, a long time ago, back when he had nothing in the world to occupy his thoughts – a father would act towards a cherished child. And it had been good, and no matter what may happen now, he knew it would end.

The thought made him stumble, so desolating it was, and Valjean immediately picked up on it, turning worried eyes towards him.

"Javert?" he asked in a whisper, not allowing his voice to carry for fear that someone else would hear and ask too many questions he would have no answer to give to.

"It's nothing. I guess I'm just wondering where we will go from here, Pa- Valjean," he said, the words faltering on his tongue and blushing at what he had almost said after being interrupted while he was having such thoughts.

Valjean didn't miss the slip and almost gasped out loud due to the emotions it made rise inside him. Last time, it had happened in the middle of a delirious episode, brought on by a fever, and could therefore be explained by this, by the fact that Javert hadn't really known where he was and with whom. This time, though, there was nothing to justify it except, perhaps, feelings and emotions mixed up with the effects of the curse.

"You... you have called me that before," Valjean admitted quietly, letting his hand rest on the head of the child, somewhat possessively, wondering whether he would be rejected or not.

"I did?" Javert asked, not remembering such an occasion but not shaking his head to make the hand go away. "I-"

He wasn't sure how to admit to Valjean that he had absolutely no idea what the man was talking about but he shouldn't have worried.

"It was during your fever, I know you don't remember much from that time. It... it won't change anything," Valjean continued. "When you're back to normal, it won't change anything if you don't want it to."

The words were barely whispered, Valjean not having dared to imagine any relationship continuing between them once the curse had been lifted. He had been already sure that Javert choosing not to report him immediately was almost too much to ask, even if the decision had been his alone, not influenced by any sort of plea from him.

"You promise?" Javert asked, looking straight ahead, not capable of looking at his interlocutor.

He felt Valjean's hand slip from his head and instead reaching out for his own and squeeze slightly.

"I promise."

There were no more words after that, as they finished making their way to the docks. Valjean was already wondering how they would ask for the right person once they were at the place but they had barely set foot in the camp that they were accosted by a young woman, with a brilliant smile that belied her poverty and lighted up her whole face.

"She's waiting for you, Inspector," she said, looking at the child with too knowing eyes and an unnatural ease for calling him by his title even when looking at him in such form. "Come with me. I'll take you there."

They followed her through the maze of caravans, Valjean looking around with curiosity as he had never had the occasion so visit such a camp and imagining the child he still held by the hand running around in such a place. He found it difficult to consider the fact that the man he had known as his inspector could have grown up in such a climate and still become the man he was.

When they arrived at their destination, they both entered the caravan indicated to them and Javert recognized immediately the face he had seen the night of the riot. She looked at Valjean first, a small smile widening the lines of her face but making her seem younger nonetheless.

"May you wait outside, child," she said and Valjean, even when such an appellation seemed so far from the truth, knew that she was talking to him, for he was still very much younger than her, even at his age.

He looked worriedly at Javert, who seemed to understand the trouble and squeezed the hand holding his once, before letting go completely.

"I'll be fine," he reassured and watched as Valjean left without another word, promising silently to wait just outside, before turning to the woman. "Madame."

She smiled at the greeting, far more polite than when they had met before and she nodded once, solemnly.

"It is time to reverse what has been done," she stated simply, matter-of-factly. "May what you have learnt stay with you beyond the day."