XII: Harsh Words

Aimée's thumb tracing along his finger snapped Javert from his awe. He realized fully then that his hand was entwined with Aimée's. It was new to him, the comfort and easiness of just holding on to another human being. The warmth of touch brought out a new side to him, one that he had thought he lost after years of looking into the face of lawbreakers. Javert's eyes were closed as the last firework died away, head bowed and brows furrowed together.

"Javert…is everything alright?" Aimée asked, looking at him. "What's wrong?" She let go of his hand and he found himself immediately missing the warmth. Javert stiffened when he felt a light touch on his shoulder.

"I'm leaving," he finally said, too ashamed to look up at her. The touch from his shoulder retreated and he was left alone in the darkness from his lids.

"What?"

The breath that left his lungs was heavy. "I'm leaving," he repeated, forcing himself to look at her. "I'm leaving Toulon."

She looked at him then, beautiful in the moonlight, porcelain skin, stormy eyes, hair that glowed like silver. The deep purple dress flowed from her like a river of fine silk and her necklace brought Javert's gaze to the curve of her throat as it met her collarbone. She looked so strong…so much better than what he had seen before.

And now he was probably going to destroy her once again.

How many more cruelties must one woman take? he lamented in his head.

Aimée shook her head. "No, you're not."

"I am."

"But…but…" It was a mystery why his words had sucked the air from her lungs. As she recalled, she never really actually gotten to know the man. But, he had shone kindness and security to her when no one else had. Carried her from danger and let her stay in his own house.

"It's for my job. An inmate, Valjean, he broke his parole. I've been assigned to find him." Javert spoke as quickly as he could, trying to make Aimée understand that he had to leave. There was no other option. Nothing he could do.

"It's for your job?" she asked, her eyes dating about his face. Aimée took a step towards him and Javert retreated, already knowing what she was going to say. "You're doing this for a job? Leaving?"

"It's more than that, I have to find-"

Aimée started to fill a heat rise in her chest. "You're no better than my father. Leaving to just get a promotion."

His face darkened at her words. "I'm nothing like your father," he said with a surprising bite. "I stayed with you after he left you. I found you in the rain, I've watched you heal."

She stepped backwards, surprised. Then, Aimée sniffed and felt the all too familiar pinpricks start behind her eyes. She shook her head, forcing the tears to stay away. She was not going to cry…too much crying. Aimée Lamenté hoped she was never going to cry again.

Javert reached out to her, but she stepped back again, her back almost pressing against Ombre's shoulder.

"I was hoping we could become friends," she said.

Javert's face fell. "I…I had thought we already were, mademoiselle." Had he judged everything wrong? He had never really gotten a chance to know someone...maybe he had exaggerated how well he knew the young woman.

"Makes it even worse then," she said bitterly.

Javert's hand fell limply at his side. The memory of her fingers entwined with his was now just a shadow of a memory. "I'm telling you this because you deserve to know. I was not going to leave you without explanation." His voice was getting stronger as he spoke to her. "I do not want to see you hurt again."

The woman's eyes glistened in the darkness and Javert bit the inside of his cheek. She held up a hand to her face and gave one little sob, her other hand desperately trying to wipe away the threat of tears. Amazingly, her kohl did not streak against her lids.

"Who will…" she didn't finish, was lost for words. Javert stepped forward and, in the boldest move of his life, let his heavy hands rest on her shoulders. She shivered from the sudden warmth.

"You've given me inspiration to enforce the law, Aimée," he said softly, her name leaving sparks in his mouth, "you've made me want to protect those who cannot protect themselves. In order to do that, I need authority. This job will give me just that."

He cast his eyes downwards as his words became too heavy to bear. Aimée felt her stab of anger start to disappear as his somber exterior started to crumble before her very eyes. She began to see a living, breathing man in front of her, not a stern uniform.

"I can't stand it anymore, stepping aside while men like Anton or your father go about harming others." When he looked up, his green eyes were pleading with her, downturned and sad, desperate for her to understand the words that he spoke. Javert ignored the discomfort he had, the uneasiness that came with confession. This was too important to give her anything but the truth…his truth. He was tired of living his life without anyone knowing what he thought, what he felt. A man could only take so many years of solitude.

"Where will you go?"

"Paris."

She swallowed, Paris was so far, it seemed. A world away.

"You admitted you assumed we were friends," she said quietly.

Javert nodded. "I assumed we were."

Aimée searched his face. "Why?"

Javert withdrew his hands from her shoulders. "Why what?"

"Why?" she asked again, "Why speak to me in the first place? Why watch over me so many times, why worry? I see it in your eyes every time you look at me…worried I might break like some glass doll."

Javert did not know the exact reason why, so he stayed quiet. He didn't know if he thought she needed his help, or if he thought she was alone and desperate for someone to be there for her. Maybe it was even her beauty, as undeniable as it was, the stormy blue eyes that held as much majesty as the roiling ocean. Maybe Javert did it out of his own loneliness, his own feeling of isolation that kept him awake at night in his big empty house.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, looking down. This new Javert that stood in front of Aimée was starting to disappear, starting to change back into the stiff, uncomfortable man she was familiar with.

Aimée found herself not wanting that to happen.
"Do you want to leave?" she asked, crouching slightly as she tried to catch his eyes. His gaze remained on the stone beneath his shoes.

"I have to leave," he answered, not knowing what to admit.

"I asked you if you wanted to leave, Javert."

He cringed slightly, a boy too embarrassed to meet his mother's eyes after he stole sweets from the baker. If he was honest to her, she would look at him like he was an awkward, desperate child. A man too swept up in his own loneliness, holding on to one of the only friend he had made in his life.

Aimée took his silence in stride, building up her wall so the hurt would stay hidden. "Well," she said curtly, crossing her arms in front of her. "I wish you the best. We don't even know anything about each other, no use in getting upset over it." She pushed past him to leave, heading back to the light and hopefully more champagne.

"Your mother's name was Melanie Lamenté," Javert called after her, turning and watching her go. "She had brown hair, freckles, and a gap in her teeth." He didn't know why the words left his mouth, but when they did he noticed the desperation that floated with them. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. She paused on the stairs. "You wanted to name your brother Pascal. Your father does finance."

"What are you doing?" she asked, turning.

"You said we didn't know each other." Javert's voice was flat.

Her eyes darkened. "Are you trying to make this even harder for me? Proving that you know these things, that you've cared enough to listen to what I say before you leave?"

Javert took a step back as she approached him, pointing to his chest. It was Aimee's turn to confess. "Even though you've never told me anything about you, not even your full name, I couldn't help myself from feeling like you cared when no one else did. You don't know how relieved I was when I saw you in the rain or how touched I was that you came to the cemetery. You carried me across acres of land after I was attacked, fought for me."

Aimee's voice was rising and Javert was thankful that they were alone. She was standing closely now, her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. "And this past month? We never spoke, or when we did it was short lived. Yet, through all that, I knew that there was someone out there that cared enough to know how I was doing. A friend that worried. And now, after all of that, after we've finally come to terms with what we think, you pack up for some shining new job and leave me here."

When she was finished, her eyes were shining with angry tears. Javert's mouth went slack from shock. Her words held more fire and sincerity than he had expected. So she had thought of him as someone important…the first person who ever did. Suddenly, Aimée saw hurt in his eyes and her anger disappeared.

"Aimée…" Silence choked him.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, casting eyes downwards in embarrassment. "I'm being selfish. It's not fair to you. When do you depart?"

"Possibly tomorrow," he said, studying her intently.

He did not miss the pang of sadness that made her flinch. "I'm going to miss you." Suddenly, she stepped forward and gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders. At this point, she did not care about what was right or what was inappropriate. All she knew was that someone important to her was leaving and she needed as much comfort as possible in the short time they had.

Javert stood shocks still again, feeling as if her touch was turning him to stone.

You need to comfort her now, he told himself, she doesn't deserve stillness.

Then, softly, tentatively, he looped his arms around her. When he felt her shake with a heavy breath, he tightened his grip, holding her close and trying to make her understand that harming her was his biggest fear on this earth. She buried her face into his shoulder and he felt her hair tickle the side of his face. Aimée felt the stubble of his jaw scratch against her temple.
"Be safe," she told him.

His voice was lost then. The overwhelming feeling of this caring warmth followed by Aimée's words had thrown him into shock. No one had ever worried over him before, had never pleaded with him to stay safe. Javert now knew what it was like to have a friend, to have someone that didn't look at him in fear or distaste. He realized that he was leaving the one person on this earth that bothered to give a damn about him.

Leaving her here all alone.

The realization hit him like a train, and Javert's arms tightened around her once more. He reached up and placed a hand behind her head. "I will," he told her, patting her hair. "I will be safe. And so will you. You are resilient now. Your father, Anton, they cannot hurt you. You're stronger than they are."

Aimée lifted her head as she heard his quiet words, low as a rumble in his chest. She smiled, against all odds. "Thank you."

They broke apart and Javert's arms hung in the empty air for a moment, already missing the warmth. Regaining his composure, he let them fall back to his sides. Her eyes were still pleading with him silently, but she had accepted his leaving. His heart began to crack as he noticed how small she looked, her shoulders hunched and arms wrapped around herself for protection.

"I'll write," she said hopefully.

"Whenever I get the chance, I will respond," he said evenly.

She smiled at him, "I don't want my only memories of you to just be your frowning face. Do you even know how to smile?" Aimée reached out and took hold of his hand gently again.

Javert looked down, curled his fingers around hers, and looked up into those eyes that looked like the roiling ocean. He heaved a sad sigh and gave her a rueful smile, more genuine than anything that had ever graced his lips before.

Squeezing his hand, she shook her head. "That's it? Well, I guess I can settle for that." His smile widened at her sarcastic remark and her thumb gently running along his knuckles.

"That's better."

"Are you going to be alright?" Javert asked. His stormy green eyes watched her carefully.

She paused and hung her head. "Honestly, I don't know. I think I'll be fine…but I'm not sure. I'll have Anna…and hopefully Anton will leave soon."

Her words were so quiet, Javert had to fight of the urge to sweep her up and bring her to Paris with him. Then he would be able to protect her and make sure she was safe. The cruelties of the world would not find her there.

"I'll see you tomorrow before you leave," he said, snapping Javert back to attention.

"I don't know when I'll go," he said as Ombre shifted his weight from hoof to hoof.

"Well…if I'm not there will you at least stop by to say goodbye?" she pleaded, giving his hand another warm squeeze.

Javert swallowed, "Alright."

"Good."

The two newfound friends broke apart their grip and Javert pulled himself into the saddle. They gave each other the look of a heavy conversation and Javert's jaw clenched as he turned and rode off into the long night, leaving Aimée standing alone in the dark silence that swelled.