Inspector Javert looked out into the night. He could almost feel the insults from his colleagues a block away at the station.
"Look at him. Always on the look out for Valjean." They'd laugh.
If they only knew. If they knew why Javert stood out there every night looking into the inky blackness. If they knew why he wanted to catch Valjean so badly. But they didn't.
Oh, well. What they don't know can't hurt them. He thought, sighing.
He continued to stare out into the night. It was so dark, so cold, so empty.
Empty. That was the word he was looking for. His work seemed so empty. Valjean was the only prisoner that ever escaped him. Valjean was the only person he ever cared about. Without him he was empty. Empty. Constant emptiness. It was the emptiness that wouldn't go away. It was the emptiness that kept him going.
He could only keep going with the hope that if he ever caught Valjean again, he wouldn't feel this emptiness.
Hope. That word no longer had meaning to the inspector. Hope was what you had when people cared. Who cared about a lonely old inspector who spent all his time trying to find one person? No one, that's who. Even the one person he wanted to care about him was against him.
"Why can't I tell him, dammit!" Or better yet, why can't I corner him long enough to tell him?
Feelings started to bubble inside him. Fear, anger, hatred, depression, happiness.
Happiness. A feeling that only came when he thought about Valjean. A feeling the inspector would probably never feel again.
Depression. Something he felt often. Everything seemed to depress Javert anymore. From happy couples walking down the street to going home at night to an empty home.
Anger. At himself at the fact that he couldn't tell him.
Hatred. Towards his line of work that kept him from loving Valjean.
Fear. Fear of rejection from his love.
A stir in the blackness of the night shook Javert from his thoughts. The sewer cover was moving. Javert ran over to see if he could assist in any way. The person may have been trapped down there for a while.
The sewer cover came off. Instead of a person coming out, a body was thrown out, causing Javert to jump back in surprise. Following the body a person lifted himself from the sewers.
Valjean. Javert's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
"Valjean!" He yelled, not knowing what he was doing.
Valjean's voice was low and menacing. It was obvious that he meant business. "Get out of my way, Javert. This man needs a hospital."
"But I...."
"Now!" Valjean yelled.
Javert sighed. Let him have his wish. "Go." He said despondently.
Valjean ran on, bringing the wounded man with him. Leaving Javert behind.
A burst of happiness then heartache. The man he only wished to get closer to had pushed him away, quite forcefully at that. Valjean would never love him. Not the way he loved him.
Heartache. What Javert felt his life was forever doomed to be. A life without the man he loved was a life not worth living in his eyes.
I can't go on like this. Javert thought in total shock. I have to end this torture........ this...... this madness!
He walked the dark, deserted streets to a bridge overlooking the Seine. Climbing up onto the edge, he looked out at the water below.
Fear. Fear of doing the right thing. Valjean could have killed me! He spared my already damned life. This is the only way to end my torture.
Hatred. For himself that he couldn't tell Valjean how he really felt.
Anger. That Valjean hadn't killed him to put an end to his suffering.
Depression. That his love didn't return that love.
Happiness. That he got to see him one last time.
Hope. That God would take pity on him. A lost, lonely soul that had found its way to Heaven. Hope that he would one day see Valjean in Heaven.
He let his body fall. Head over heels it tumbled into the Seine.
Empty. A feeling that existed. A feeling that was fading. A feeling that he felt no more.
The only thing Javert could feel now was the cold of the Seine. It engulfed his entire body as he could no longer feel the cold........