Just a short note before we continue. If any of you had problems imagining Javert´s current appearance, know that I had some trouble with that too. I made a picture that might help with that. Just check out nureinname on deviantart.

It´s not much but it helped me to picture a changed Javert.

And now let´s continue with the story …

Dying for Something

He wasn´t used to such long journeys. Driving for hours, out of the city, and then the same way back, almost without a break. If he´d been ten years younger, twenty years, it would have been easier. But he did this for his grandson, so he kept moving on. And finally, finally he reached the gates of Paris.

He passed it, and left it behind. The streets were almost empty. Even though the siege was long gone, the people seemed to remember it well, and stayed inside, for their own safety. No one wanted to get involved with whatever business the national guard had had here. Maybe Monsieur Fauchelevent and his strange friend were right after all. Not that he had doubted that. But seeing it with his own eyes, made it more real.

He didn´t dare to drive the stolen fiacre all the way to his old friend´s house. He parked it a few streets away, not intending to ever go back and fetch it. The police would find it and return it to whoever owned it. And the idea that it was a baron who´d driven it there, would surely never even cross their minds.

His legs were aching, and so was his back. But he reminded himself, again and again, why he was doing this. Marius. And his sweet bride. They had to be safe. His life was expendable. And if this should be his last march, so be it. He´d been a fighter once, in his younger years. Now that it was called for, his old bones remembered their former strength. They would carry him, for as long as it was necessary.

Finally he reached the house. His old friend was still awake, he could see the lights on, in his sitting room, where he was probably reading into the night again. Some things just never changed.

When he knocked the faithful servant Bernard opened him.

"Monsieur Gillenormand." he exclaimed at his unexpected appearance. "We didn´t expect a visit."

"I know." the baron took off his hat, and stepped inside. Oh God his legs were shaking. Visibly as it seemed because the good Bernard instantly offered him to sit down.

"I need to speak to Jérôme. Monsieur Desperaux." the baron spoke, but took the chair, gratefully.

"Did I just hear my name?" the familiar voice sounded from the door. "My God, Grégoire. What are you doing here?"

Bernard instantly stepped back to allow the master of the house, to greet his guest.

"Did you walk here?" he asked, when he saw his old friend´s condition. The baron laughed.

"Walking is healthy, did they never tell you this?"

But his old friend didn´t join the joke. He knew something was wrong. He´d always known such things.

"What is it?" he asked, therefor.

And the baron straightened in his seat.

"You see, my friend." he spoke. "I´m in some sort of situation." he looked at Bernard for a moment, but the man was serving Jérôme´s family for so long, he knew he could trust him. So he spoke it out: "I need your help."

...

When Javert left his room in the morning, entering the little restaurant of their Inn, he found Valjean sitting separately from the kids, eating a small breakfast in solitude. Cosette and Marius were quiet too, not talking much, just eating. And already Javert felt as if he was intruding.

The feeling changed the moment Valjean spotted him. He gave him a demonstrative once over, and started nodding, approvingly.

"Now." he spoke, skipping back a little as if to make space for him to sit. "That´s more like it."

Javert rolled his eyes. "Please. Spare me that." He had only tamed his beard a bit, cleaned up, but that was all. Still he had to admit he did feel like a human being again, not like this walking pest he´d been before.

He took his seat on the table, glancing over at the girl and her boyfriend, talking more by now and even quieter. There had to be a reason why Valjean had decided to eat his breakfast away from them. And when the gaze of the girl met Javert, he had an idea why.

"I told her …" Valjean admitted, before Javert could ask the question. "What is going on. Why we´re on the run."

Javert just couldn´t believe it. He did what?

"She asked me, I had no choice." Valjean defended himself, as if Javert had cried out his thought instead of just thinking it. "We´re on the run, Javert." he recalled a fact that was well known to both of them. "And I have no secrets from my daughter."

The snort came almost unasked. "No, I´m sure you don´t." Javert retorted. "You always tell her everything."

Valjean paled, and searched the children again, as if to check. No, they were not listening.

"Just … one thing." he spoke to Javert, still watching the kids. "I´m sure that this won´t happen, but … If Cosette should ever ask you … anything. Could you … just … not tell her that you saw me at the barricades?"

Javert raised his brows. What?

"Marius thanks God does not remember me." Valjean explained. "And I want to keep it that way."

Was he serious? Javert looked at him, then at the kids, then back at him, and totally failed to see the reason in this.

"You saved your daughter´s sweetheart, from certain death." he recalled, just to make sure he didn´t misinterpret any small details. But Valjean´s reaction made clear that he hadn´t misinterpreted anything. "Why would you avoid to be her hero … and gain a little bit of her attention back?" he asked.

But Valjean´s reaction was defiant. "I don´t have to justify myself to you." he grumbled. "This is how I want it."

Javert couldn´t help but had to smirk at this man, that would never stop to be a mystery to him. And yet he was such an open book, he probably didn´t even realize it.

"Tell me one thing, Valjean." he asked, quietly. "Does she even know your real name?"

He received a deadly glare for this provocation, and it would have been a lie if Javert had claimed not to enjoy this.

"I´m not the only one with secrets here, inspector." Valjean practically spat the last word. "You call me a thief but you know how to pick a lock and very professionally if I may add. You shoot people when you´re given the order, not even knowing who they are and why they have to die."

Now it was Javert´s turn to glare. "I told you, I never did one of those." he hissed.

"But you approve to it. Don´t you? That´s at least how you talk about it. You think that some of these actions can be justified. Killing … in the name of the law."

"What do you think executions are?"

"Murder. No more no less. Just like these … operations."

Javert kept glaring, but so did Valjean, each of them trying to defeat the other one´s point only with their stare. Each of them failed.

"You know nothing, Valjean." Javert rasped. "Nothing at all."

"But you do?"

"I know certain things are necessary. Sometimes you have to do things you are not proud of." He gave Valjean a look. "I´m sure you know that feeling." After that he dropped his gaze, only for a moment. "And sometimes you are forced to do cruel things, even terrible things, things you know would condemn you to hell, if they were not done for the right reasons."

When he looked at Valjean again, the other man shook his head. "You sound exactly like Moreau. What reason could that possibly be, Javert? What?"

"You have no idea, Valjean. In your little world you might not see a reason. But there are reasons. In the world I lived in … there are reasons. Whether we like it or not."

"I don´t think I ever want to understand those reasons." was all Valjean would respond to that. But Javert had already started to think. Without him wanting it, his thoughts had started to turn, back to Moreau and what he had said. Suddenly, after Valjean´s objection, he saw Moreau´s words in a new light.

A good question indeed. What reason could it possible be? He was so convinced about being a patriot. And Javert had seen a lot of men claiming that. He knew the difference between one that only said it, and one that really meant it. Moreau had meant it. So he indeed had to be working for someone very powerful. Someone so powerful he was ready to kill and even die for, to protect them.

Next to him Valjean sighed. "Look at me." he spoke, absentmindedly, shaking his head. His gaze was somewhere in the distance. "I´m on the run from the law yet again. Only this time you´re not the one coming after me. This time I´m dragging you behind."

Obviously Valjean had had other thoughts, circling in his mind. Javert had almost laughed.

"Or I´m dragging you behind." When the ex-convict looked at him, he shook his head. "Does it really matter how we got here, Valjean?" he fended the question. "We are here. Now we have to deal with it."

With no further objection, Valjean turned to look over at Cosette and Marius, still talking quietly.

"I need to bring them somewhere safe." he said and Javert could not argue with that. "But where is safe?" Valjean sighed. "These people who are after us …" he didn´t know how to go on, Javert could see that. His desperation. His struggle.

"There´s a convent not too far away from here." he suggested, and Valjean turned to him, startled. "This should be safe enough." Javert said. "And it´s better than to drive miles and miles away from Paris. I have a feeling we´ll be needed there, very soon."

Valjean glanced at the kids again, considering. Eventually he nodded. "All right. Deal." He turned to Javert as if he had something more to say, but he didn´t. He merely seemed to wait for Javert to do or say something. To seal their deal maybe?

He gave him a nod, and Valjean seemed to be satisfied. He had his unspoken promise. And maybe, Javert thought to himself, there were worse things on earth, than to make a pact like that.

His eyes found the kids again, and they were both watching him now. Javert sighed. So now they knew. What would come next?

...

He knew he probably shouldn´t do it. This man scared Cosette, enough to make her beautiful face turn hard, and her voice cold. But he just had to talk to him. And if it was only this one time.

Marius felt his face grow cold, as he approached him, but he walked on, until he was at him.

"You are the inspector." he spoke, and Javert turned to him, startled. So far his attention had been on the carriage, preparing it for their departure. Now he looked at him, as if Marius had accused him of a crime.

The young student nodded. "Cosette told me. I knew I´d seen your face before but … you´ve changed."

A sigh escaped him, his eyes never leaving the face of the man he´d met first as a spy, trying to infiltrate him and his friends, to stop their revolution. An enemy behind the barricade. But now, looking back, Marius couldn´t help but wonder, if it hadn´t been better if the inspector had succeeded. Maybe some of them would still be alive if he had. Maybe all of them would be alive now. Not just him.

"I guess the barricades changed us all." was all he knew to say to this man. What else was there to say? It was so obvious that Javert had been through a lot himself, so he surely didn´t need Marius to tell him. And yet he was back now, to help them against another danger. Marius did not know why Cosette hated him so much. All he could feel was the utmost respect for this man, who was currently frowning at him, as if he didn´t know what Marius was talking about.

"You see …" the younger man spoke. "I thought I was the only one who survived."

And at this the inspector cocked his head, suddenly avoiding his gaze.

"You got lucky, boy." he told him. "You should thank your guardian angel for getting you out of there."

Marius couldn´t help the bitter chuckle that came up in him. "I can´t even remember how I got out. All I remember is getting shot." He needed to take a breath against the visions. "Screams, and shots and explosions around me. As if the world was crushing down. And the blood of my friends, everywhere." His voice was breaking. "Oh God, my friends …"

He more felt than saw the other man beside him, shifting uncomfortable from one foot to the other. Marius knew that he was bothering him, with his grief. He surely hadn´t intended to start crying in front of this man. Dammit, why did he have to be so weak? Why had he been so weak, back then, when it would have mattered not to be?

"There was a woman, Eponine." he told him, not able to stop himself. "She died in my arms. After she had saved my life." Again the tears came unexpected, suffocating him. "Why did all this happen, inspector?" he managed to ask, fighting it back unsuccessfully. "Do you know it? Because I don´t." he shook his head, not even looking at the inspector. "Maybe I never did."

He didn´t expect Javert to give him an answer. He knew there was none. The more it surprised him when he indeed got one. And if it was only in the form of a mystifying response.

"I´m in the process of finding that out, boy." the inspector told him, and that alone made Marius halt, forgetting his tears at last. What? Had he just heard him right? Finding out? What could he possibly find out? What had happened, had happened because of a bad fate. Of bad luck. Coincidences, too cruel to be named. Right?

Except …

But before he could ask him, the inspector padded his shoulder. "Come on now." he said, as if the matter was over. "Get in. We need to leave."

...

Valjean climbed on the coachman´s seat, to join Javert. He could have stayed with Cosette in the back but he had things to talk about, that only the inspector would understand. And besides that fact, he really rather kept his distance from the two young and their love. He´d spent hours in this small cab with them last night, and he did not urge to repeat this experience. Should they have their privacy. He didn´t need to be a part of it.

Javert glanced at him with reluctance, when he took his seat next to him, but didn´t speak. He just pulled the reins, and the horses started moving.

"If I didn´t know any better …" Valjean mentioned, what he´d seen earlier, between Javert and the boy. "I´d almost say you showed some form of compassion there." He received a side glance from the other man. "As if you actually regretted what happened at the barricades." Valjean watched the face beside him carefully. It was stony. No change in Javert´s expression at all, dark as it was.

"Of course I regret what happened that night." the former inspector growled at last, not even looking at him. "Too many lives were lost there. Far too many. And I will find the one who´s responsible."

Valjean regarded this man, beside him. The man that had hunted him for all these years. And now that things had changed so much, he didn´t even want to look at him. As if his mind was already far ahead, at the task that lay before him. The task he´d put upon himself, just as he had once put it on himself to take care of a lonely child, who had lost her mother. And in this moment Valjean could not help but wonder.

"You know …" he began again. "There was a time in my life … when I would have just packed and left. Taken Cosette and run away, as far as I could. Buying a house in England is easy when you know how."

He didn´t know for sure why he´d mentioned this last bit, but the gaze Javert gave him now, was a glare. Warningly.

"What do you propose here, Valjean?" he asked, lowly, and for a moment Valjean was embarrassed for having said it. "I can´t just leave now." the former inspector told him. "Maybe a convict like you can just run, but I can´t." Javert looked ahead again, stubbornly, his jaw working. "No, I have to do this."

Valjean didn´t know why it bothered him so much, what Javert had just said. Or the tone he´d used for this last sentence. As if he didn´t even consider if he would live or die in this.

"I didn´t propose anything." he said. "But you have only your own life to worry about. I have a young daughter to care for."

"And the boy now too." Javert added, driving a knife into Valjean´s soul once again.

"Yeah." he agreed. "Him now too."

Javert frowned, regarding him. "The convent will be safe for them." he emphasized once again. "Safe enough at least." He gave a little shrug, and turned back to the road. "But if you think you have to take them under your arm and run away to England, go ahead. I won´t stop you."

Valjean didn´t know what to say. Hearing those words should be a relief. But it wasn´t. Javert smirked at him, unnoticeable, and raised a brow.

"There was a time in my life too, when I would have never said that." he spoke, and somehow this simple admittance made Valjean understand, at last. That whatever had happened to Javert, was not just limited to an outside change of appearance. No, it had to be much more profound. And somehow he felt that he was responsible for that.

"If we just leave, what will you do?" he asked, but didn´t get an answer. "You can´t fight them all on your own." he cried. "You would die."

"Maybe" Javert was still not looking at him. His face darkened, and it scared Valjean to see this shadow over the other man´s face. "But this time at least," he said. "I´d die for a reason. One that I understand."

And that was the last thing he would speak on that matter.

...

"His name is Bourguignon." Jérôme spoke, writing down an address for his old friend. "Henry Bourguignon. We know each other from our days in the royal army. He´s a general now, and very powerful. He has influence that you can only imagine, knows the right people. If there is anyone who can help you find the answers that you need, it is him."

The baron looked at his old friend, reluctantly. He was sure Jérôme meant it well but … this situation was too serious for a well meant advice that in the end led to the wrong consequences.

"I don´t know, Jérôme. This whole thing seems to be rooted within the army. Maybe it´s unwise to turn to someone who is affiliated with them."

"Maybe. But Henry is different. I know him, Grégoire. He´s a man of honor. And he´s loyal to the king. If it is true what your friends say, then this conspiracy within the military is a great crime against France and the king, and he will not approve to it. Quite the contrary. He´ll do everything in his power to find those men, and bring them to justice, before they can do any more harm, maybe even to the king. You only need to convince him that the king might suffer if they are not punished. Then he will do everything in his power to help you."

The baron watched his friend, in his conviction."And you´re sure about this?"

"I know the man for years, Grégoire. He saved my life once. I would trust him blindly, any time."

The baron lowered his gaze, thoughtfully and nodded. He still felt uncomfortable with this. But Jérôme had always been an expert in human nature. When he said this man was loyal to king and country, he believed him.

"All right then." he said. "But I hope your friend has resources to protect himself. Because the people we go against, will not stop to even attack a high ranking officer like him. They already did this."

But Jérôme was faithful. "Don´t worry." he said. "Henry is brave. He never feared any enemy, no matter where they came from. And he does have resources. If anyone can protect you, and your friends, it is him."

...

"What now, Papa?" Cosette asked him, after the sisters had settled them into some rooms, small but sufficient. She had lived in such circumstances for a great part of her life, so he knew it was familiar for her. As if she came home after years of traveling. Marius on the other hand should be a little out of place here. But he didn´t seem to mind in any way.

"How long are we gonna be here?" Cosette wanted to know, and her gaze was determined to get an answer. She wouldn´t accept an: I don´t know. But unfortunately this was all Valjean could give her.

"I don´t know." he sighed and faced them both. "Cosette. Marius. I want you to keep quiet. Don´t tell anyone why we came here. You know the sisters never talk, so you both are safe here."

"What about you?" the light of his life wanted to know, and yet again he could only sigh and shake his head, knowing she wouldn´t like what he had to say.

"I need to go back." he told her.

"No."

"Cosette." he took her hands. "As long as these people are out there, we´ll never be safe. And we can´t just leave. Not anymore."

He knew he´d scared her, but there was simply no other way he could have said that.

"Papa."

"No more words. You will be safe here." he assured her. "Just stay here and … wait."

"What do you want to do?" Marius dared to ask, and Valjean looked up at him.

"Whatever I can … to help Javert …" his eyes met Cosette again.

"No."

"… find these men." he insisted on finishing what he had to say. "And bring them to justice, for what they did."

"What did they do?" Marius tone was very serious, very demanding, as if he already guessed the truth. But of course Valjean could not tell him. This was a truth he could never share, no matter how much the boy might deserve it. He´d been there after all. Had barely survived it. Yet, he was still just a kid. And as such he should not carry even more of this burden.

Valjean smiled at him, warmly, laying a hand around the boy´s neck. "Don´t worry. You two take care of each other."

"I want to help you, Monsieur."

"No, Marius. You are still recovering."

"So are you, sir." the boy insisted, but unsuccessfully.

"My wound is not as deep as yours." Valjean told him, and even Marius seemed to understand that he was not talking about the simple flesh wound of his body. "Don´t fear for me." he told them both. "I know my ways. I will be safe." he chuckled. "I´m under police protection after all."

But Cosette didn´t laugh for him, at his joke. Her face darkened at his words, so full of hate for the man he´d just mentioned. Valjean took her in, embracing her, and placed a kiss her on the head. "I will be back. I promise."

And with that he left them, walking out to join the man that once upon a time had been his enemy. Javert was deep in thought, studying a paper. It was the drawing they had found in Marianne´s place. He´d never taken it out of his pocket ever since, as if it were a talisman with magic powers. A magic power he now tried to understand, judging by the deep frown between his eyes.

Valjean stepped to his side.

"Well." he spoke and Javert turned to face him. "What are we gonna do next?"

...

He didn´t feel well with the thought to leave his old friend behind. But he figured it was safer for Jérôme this way. That he´d had to involve him in any way had been too much risk already. He didn´t need to get endangered any more, by being seen with him, in the city. They still didn´t know whom to trust, so spies and enemies could be hidden at every corner. If someone spotted him it would be risky enough. No need to get Jérôme to their attention too.

"Are you sure, you don´t want me to come with you?" he asked him, once again, and the old baron gave him a smile.

"It´s all right, Jérôme." he said. "I´m only going to talk to your friend. You say dropping your name should be enough, and I don´t want you to be seen with me."

Jérôme still didn´t look happy, so the baron padded his shoulder, reassuringly. "He´s a high ranking officer." he recalled what in fact Jérôme had told him. "Every visit to him will be official. Many people will know about it. No way for anyone to do something secretly. I´ll be totally safe. And so will be your friend. The best way to destroy their plan is to attack them all in the open." the baron spoke, handing his friend the letter he´d just written.

"I pray you´re right, old friend." Jérôme sighed, heavily, and looked down on the letter in his hand. "And I hope your friends, whoever they are, are worth that risk."

"It´s not about them." the baron spoke. "I do this for my grandson. He´s the only family I have left."

And at those words not even Jérôme could argue anymore. All he did was nodding, silently, and promise him to send the letter, as soon as he got into the city. It was the last time the two men ever spoke.