Dr Fauchevault drove about halfway to his house before pulling over sharply to the side of the road right next to a train station. Marius actually thought, this is it, he's going to kill me, before Dr Fauchevault handed him the keys.

"You know the way to my house from here?"

Marius nodded.

"Alright," Dr Fauchevault said. "I want you to go to my house and tell Cosette that I'm probably not going to be home for a little while. There is a notebook in a chest in my room, she knows the one, that has a list of all the financial assistance she's going to need. I need you to tell her that, alright?"

"Sir?" Marius asked.

"Don't ask me where I'm going, son. Just tell her its for her safety."

"For her safety?"

"And tell her I love her. More than anything."

Marius nodded before stammering out, "Are you in the mob?"

Valjean smiled. "Do I look like I'm in the mob?"

"No."

"I'm not, if that reassures you. There's just something I have to do, now that it's been started."

Dr Fauchevault opened his door and got out of the car. "Take care of her, Marius."

"I will," Marius said. "Dr Fauchevault?" he called after the other man. "Thank you. For pulling me out of there. And if you see any of my friends, let them know I'm alright." Dr Fauchevault nodded, and Marius watched the other man walk up the steps to the train station before putting the keys in the ignition and driving away.


"Please," the boy said, his face pale as he supported the girl. "She's injured- concussed-"

"Sir?" the officer said, looking over at Javert, who sighed.

"I don't see anything here," he said deliberately, slowly, "except a couple of drunk and disorderlies inciting the people to riot. Put them in with the others."

The boy made a sharp noise of protest, the girl hanging limp off his shoulder. His eyes flooded with tears. Javert turned away.

He had been so close. Why hadn't he grabbed him? Handcuffed him right then and there and been done with it?

And more importantly, why had Valjean saved him?

No. No. He had work to do. Work. Work that he was unable to-

No.

He should track him down. He knew that he lived somewhere near here. He should track him down and- and what? Arrest the man who had saved his life?

He hadn't really saved his life- but no, he had. Or more importantly, he had risked himself to save Javert even if Javert might not have been in absolute danger, just like he had for that girl from so long ago. Like the man under the car. Like the whole damn town.

He strode into his office, ignoring the questions of the other officers except to bark out a quick "figure it out for your own damn selves," and tore down the bulletin board on which was stretched a huge map of the United States with pins in his potential locations. Then he took a deep breath, tossed the map into the garbage can, and rehung the bulletin board.

He was just one man. Just because one criminal may have had a soul didn't mean that the rest of them did. So why couldn't he stop thinking about that family he'd sent to various prisons across the country, or the man who'd begged him to send word to his wife, or that damn girl Valjean had tried to-

There were just so many of them! Damn Valjean for doing this to him. But no. Valjean wasn't damned. He was.

He took his few belongings out of his desk and placed them in a large cardboard box. Then he went back to the desk and wrote a simple letter explaining that he resigned as chief of police because he was no longer fit for service and walked out of the station, leaving his badge and gun on the desk behind him, heading for the bridge.

He stared up at the sky, then looked back down at the frosty, frothy waters. The sun was just beginning to set. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

A sudden bolt of muscle and blue silk barreled into him. He fell backwards, landing on his back. Stars popped in front of his eyes and he gasped for air. Whatever had knocked into him rolled over and sat up. Javert looked over at it.

"Oh, fuck, not you," he moaned.

Valjean leaned forward on his knees, panting slightly. "You're welcome," he said, looking over at the other man.

"For what?" Javert snapped.

"Saving your life!"

"Excuse me?"

"You handed in your badge!"

"Yeah?"

Valjean looked confused. "I kind of assumed you were going to throw yourself off the bridge."

Javert raised his eyebrows. "So you threw yourself at me?"

"I had to stop you."

"You're like two hundred pounds of pure muscle. You landing on me is probably more likely to kill me than jumping off this bridge."

"God, well, next time I'll just let you die, then."

"Thanks," Javert said and stood to walk towards the edge of the bridge again. Valjean grabbed his arm.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm handing in my resignation!"

"From what?"

"From life!"

"Javert!"

They struggled for a few minutes, Valjean finally managing to pull Javert off the bridge.

"God, would you take a fucking pill?" Valjean snapped, then realized he sounded like Cosette and took a deep breath. "Why do you want to kill yourself?"

"Because!" Javert cried. "I ruined your life. I ruined so many people's lives!"
"So you're just going to kill yourself? That's the most selfish thing I've ever heard," Valjean said. "I've done things a hundred times worse than you. I robbed a church, for christssake." Javert looked up at that confession, then hung his head once more. That, more than anything, concerned Valjean. "Javert, listen. I have wished, sometimes, that I could escape that. But I can't, and you can't. Listen!" He raised the other man's face to look at his. "I do not blame you for the things that have happened in my life. I thank god that he has given me ways to overcome it, and I think that He will do the same for you. Javert, all you have to do, to make that feeling of- of desperation, of rage go away is to work to make other people's lives better."

Javert looked up at him. "I don't know how," he whispered.

Valjean smiled in relief. "I'll show you," he said.