Chapter Eleven: A Clearer View Only Leads to More Questions


In many ways Alexis Enjolras appeared as his father did. Those hard, cold eyes could cut through to one's soul and there was a soldier's rigidness to their postures. It was even in the way that they held their heads high, chin up, and appeared to look down upon their subjects. This had been the first thing that Bouvet had seen when he'd met the younger Enjolras, even as wounded as he had been, and he'd resented it. He had judged the boy to be nothing more than an outwardly rebellious Nicolas Enjolras. The father gained power through his quiet treachery and the son gained in through open, violent rebellion against the king.

Bouvet had not been alive during Robespierre's Reign of Terror, but his elder brother and father had. Granted, his brother had been very young, but they had each heard of the horrors that Robespierre and Saint Just brought upon the people of France during the time before Napoleon. Bouvet had dreamt of it when he was young. At night he would wake screaming after being tormented by two men, both faceless monsters dripping in the blood of many, who wished to drag him away to the guillotine. Nothing had ever frightened him so in his life, and he had sworn to his delusional, dying father that he would never allow anything so dreadful to come about as long as he lived.

Now he had the chance to stop it from happening again and his convictions were wavering. He's a terrible young man that will only grow more and more power hungry. He will be the next Saint Just. The National Guard shuddered at the thought. No, he was not to that point yet. He thought he might be, at first, but he'd seen more at that horrible day at the guillotine as the head had rolled from the neck, blood splattering everywhere, and all Bouvet could think of was that horrible scream that had come from none other that Enjolras himself. A scream that would never have left Saint Just's lips. It was on that day when he began to question what he was doing.

He will be the next Saint Just.

"No," Bouvet murmured, leaning against the alley wall. "Not the younger one."

As the young man looked up to the moon that was rising in the sky, then to the setting sun, he shoved himself from the wall, a new assurance in his steps. This had to stop. The Reign of Terror had been the death of innocents, and while these students might not be fully innocent in the whole affair, they were not guilty of wrongdoing. That decided, he chose his side once and for all.

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"Your revolutionary hasn't returned?"

Valjean looked up from his book to see Javert standing in the doorway, slightly disheveled for him, and with an irritated look on his face. "Marius? Is he gone?"

"Don't play a fool, Valjean," Javert growled. "You know very well what my father had planned."

"And you do not approve?"

"Of course not."

Valjean closed his book quietly, setting it aside and leaned forward with a thoughtful look about him. "I wonder," he began slowly, "how a man as devout in your ways as you are, Inspector, could have become that way."

Javert grew very red in the face, though Valjean had not the slightest idea why. He stood in his place for a moment, feeling his former nemesis' eyes watching him, and walked silently over to the window. His crystal eyes seemed fixated on some object or another through the glass and a sigh lifted his shoulders before letting them fall back into their rigid position. "I once said that there was nothing that we shared," the former inspector began quietly, not moving to look Valjean in the eye. "That… neither of us could change."

"You did say that, yes," Valjean murmured when the smaller man seemed to pause.

"I believe you know my history, Valjean. Gypsy parentage never was looked highly upon… I took to the streets when I was old enough to. You see what children do to survive on the streets." That one sentence was as close to the confession as anyone would ever receive, Valjean realized. Yes, certainly he did know what children did to survive. Theft was one of those things, as he had found out through his own life. Though he wished to say something, he bit his tongue, waiting for Javert to continue, and continue he did, though not without halts here and there in his monologue. "I was thirteen when Madame DeLancy found me snatching an apple from her tree. She was like you, speaking of mercy and God's love. I'd never heard anything so… preposterous," Javert spat. "It disgusted me and I left after our first visit, but returned." He turned, finally making eye contact with Valjean. "I went back to them and they took me in. I swore that I would never soiled their good name. I have never done so, and shall never."

"To spend one's entire life repenting for a sin committed in one's youth," Valjean murmured, eye lids fluttering heavily.

He heard Javert snort. "So we are not so different after all," the inspector growled out. "Go on, Valjean. Gloat. Let's hear it."

Their eyes met and Valjean smiled. "I have no place to gloat, nor do I wish to. We are all human." That said, he stood and took up his book. "We do what we can to follow the right path. It is all we can do."

"And that boy?"

"And your father."

"He's not-"

"He is the man that raised you. He is your father."

Javert sat in silence as he watched Valjean leave the room. His mind swam with all the words that had been spoken, and it continued to do so even as the sun set low in the sky.

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The knock on the door brought several people out of an almost peaceful sleep and sent about half scrambling for the door. Gavroche was the first to bound up, allowing Joly, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac to sink gratefully back to their places on the floor. The boy swung the door open and promptly slammed it again.

"Who was it?" Grantaire asked, leaning against the wall.

"That bastard Bouvet!" the gamin announced, a horrible look on his young face.

Courfeyrac was on his feet again, followed closely by Combeferre. He flung the door back open to find Bouvet was still there, looking about ready to knock again. "What are you doing here?" Courfeyrac growled.

"I need to speak to Enjolras. Is he well?"

"Have you cared in the past?" Combeferre asked lowly, glaring over his glasses. "What do you have to say?"

"I'd prefer it to be for his ears, though if you wish to listen you may."

"Oh we may!" Grantaire howled from behind. He waved a hand around theatrically, grinning lopsided. "We may listen in! Don't you feel honoured?"

"Oh very," Joly grumbled.

"Please, time could be very valuable in all of this," Bouvet murmured.

"To deliver him to the government as a sacrifice?" Combeferre asked quietly, a sharp note to his voice that none of the other students had ever heard before. It was cold, and eerily calm for as wild as his eyes had become. "To his father? I won't allow it."

"Then you know that Nicolas Enjolras is after his son?" Bouvet asked, dark eyes widening.

"And using you to do it!" Grantaire bellowed.

"No! Perhaps at one time, but I won't help him. I can't. You must let me in to see Enjolras. There are details that you don't know. Can't know, but I must tell them to you or you'll have no chance against his father. The man is a lunatic. He'll have the country if he can and he'll use all of you to take it from the king!"

"I've seen your type," Combeferre assured him. "Enjolras and I grew up with them. Those boys that would do anything to further themselves in any way. It starts young, but once it's instilled it never leaves. I suggest you leave this flat before it becomes the place you fall."

"But I must-"

Combeferre reached calmly into his jacket and pulled a pistol from it, aiming. "I said to leave, monsieur. I do not speak lightly."

"Combeferre, put that away." Everyone in the room looked to see Enjolras standing in the doorway leading from his bedroom. "I wish to hear what Monsieur Bouvet has to say."

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A/N: Wow, this has taken a long time to put together, and for that I am very sorry. I've been struggling through writer's block on this story, on everything, finals, exhaustion, and plenty of other excuses that I just can't think of right now. I have a new xanga site up just for my fanfiction, and on it I plan to post my art work for all of this. Possibly clips of stories too, I haven't decided. Anyway, our dear Enjolras was the first to make it up on there and I'd be much obliged if you'd take a looksee.www dot>xanga dot>com/Takada underscore>Saiko underscore>chan last chapter is what happens when I absolutely force a chapter to come. I do that from time to time to update, but regret it later. It never comes out right. But then again, if I don't do it every once and a while, people start to yell b/c of the lack of updates…. Anyway, hope this one was a little less scattered…

Tsunami Wave: Thanks so much! Sorry for the long wait…

Nothing Toulouse: I like throwing one liners in there that make people laugh. Makes my day to hear that it works :) And I finally updated for you! Look at this! I won't let it die completely. I love this story too much. I promise! It shall continue! There may be long, quiet periods where everyone thinks I've gone and tripped over the edge of a cliff or perhaps been eaten by some overly large animal, but I assure you this hasn't happened yet. Oh, and finals didn't kill me, so this is my celebration. Cheers.

Melissa Brandybuck: I've always pictured Enjolras' father as horrible, but he's reached a whole new low in my mind. Perhaps he shall sink further? Who knows?

Precious Angel: That's what I LOVE about Bouvet, you never really know which side he's on. Well, now you do, but who's to say he won't change his mind again?

Barricade girl: I'm glad to see that no one likes Nicolas Enjolras. My job here is going on the right direction to being completed.

Caligirl-HPLVR: Glad you like it! Hope that I didn't make everyone wait toooooooo long… : hides from angry reviewers :

SoloWolf: Yay! Another Enjolras fan! We seem to come out in high numbers…. I'm glad you like how I portray him. Gotta love the guy….

Kagii: Repetition is fine… as long as I know people are reading!

A/N: Oh, and ya'll, we've reached the hundred page mark:) Okay, that's with responses to reviews written in there, but still! It's so loooooong:happy: