Your Rapture: Chapter Three: The Way Things Are
A.N.: Apparently, according to my constant listener and best bud, Charlene, I've turned Marius into my friend Andy. Good God, she's right. Beware all, for mayhem will ensue! Muahaha!
Not knowing what else to say to the ecstatic Brianna, they bid goodbye and were about to head back up to heaven when Javert's voice popped up nervously.
"Well, erm, you see, it really does seem pointless to come all the way down here without staying just a bit longer. Couldn't we just, um, look around for a bit? He he?"
Valjean sighed and rolled his eyes at Javert's terrible attempt at a cover up.
"Of course will go see Mademoiselle Leroux if that's what you want!" he exclaimed.
"That's not what I said!" Javert shouted, blushing furiously.
"No, but it's what you meant. Now come, let us be off!"
They ran through the night, graceful and silent, invisible to any but a medium or a fellow spirit. Even if he was trying to act nonchalantly about his visit to his former mistress, Javert out-distanced them all as he ran, a powerful black figure, becoming a silhouette against the neon lights of the city.
When they finally did reach the apartment, the others were struggling to get to the window ledge, panting and clutching at their chests.
"Did...you have...to run....so fast?" Fantine breathed heavily. Marius, in his exhaustion, fell off the building several times while trying to walk, though it was more likely that after the first time he was doing it for kicks.
Javert waited impatiently for them to catch their breath before gliding through the window easily, not even flinching as he went through solid glass. The apartment was well lit and a CD was playing, though Javert had more important things to do than listen to the music. Good! Emily must be home then! He heard her talking – to who he didn't give a thought – and eagerly followed the sound of her voice, which laughed occasionally. It was then that Javert heard a male voice speaking in the silences where she wasn't.
She wasn't alone in the apartment as she usually was.
The others would swear by the Holy Book of God that his eyes turned bright green with jealousy when he first laid eyes on Jason Durmount. He was a young man, around twenty five, Javert guessed, with short brown hair and intensely blue eyes. He had straight white teeth and a dazzling smile. His personality only brightened his good looks, for he was a true and proper gentlemen as well as a sensible, modern day man.
Javert hated his guts.
Marius and Valjean had to pile on top of chief inspector Javert to keep him from attempting to murder the innocent young man. If a ghost was intent on doing it, he could really tear someone up, or at least make them a bit mentally unbalanced. Javert was mad enough to do anything.
Who was he, this cocksure little boy, to come into her life? The life he had died for! Who was he to think he was even close to being worthy enough to talk and flirt with her?
When the blood curdling snarls had finally stopped, Javert writhed beneath his attackers and barked out words in protest. "Get off! Get off! I'm going to rip his head off!"
"No Javert, stop it! You've no idea what you're doing!" Valjean said, managing to keep a good hold on him.
"How can you possibly understand?" the mad dog charged back.
Valjean knocked him over in his pure anger. "Don't start saying things like that to me, Monsieur La Inspector! I know perfectly well how terrifying and jealousy inspiring it is to be afraid of loosing someone!" Marius wisely backed up behind the two women, knowing he'd been the cause of Valjean's surmounting jealousy; knowing he'd been the one Valjean had feared would snatch away Cosette.
And what was worst of all was that he had.
Valjean was quick to cool, however, and Javert was too surprised by the sudden attack to do anything about the young man with the glass of red wine in his hands. They managed to drag Javert off to a corner where he subsequently glared and pouted until the young man prepared to leave.
When Emily quickly kissed him good night, however, Javert's jaw dropped, his eyes doubled in size, and he became absolutely paralyzed.
...
It took several attempts of chucking him into the lake in Central Park to reawaken Javert from his paralyzing shock. She'd kissed him! Actually kissed him! And not the way you'd kiss a relative, either.
"Stop it!" Fantine cried frustrated as they got into the elevator back up to heaven. There was always the stairs, but they were all extremely tired, even if the stairs did have more ceremony. "Nothing's changed! So she's got a boyfriend? What do you care? Isn't it enough that she's happy?" She was obviously happy, for she smiled and laughed and sighed endlessly over this Jason Durmount. Javert simply gave the sense maker the cold shoulder.
"Look," Valjean said, tired of his friend's sour mood. "Even if you could go back to earth as a live thing, the only way God-" pause for angel chorus "- would even think of letting you go down there is as a dog, and then what would you have?"
Marius looked rather disgusted. "She would marry a dog?"
"I think that's illegal," Cosette piped in timidly.
"It's no longer your job to worry and fret over her," Fantine continued, the soft whirlwind surrounding her head and slowly turning her back into a woman, her golden hair tied into a bun. "You've done your piece. You saved her life, you got your eternity. Why don't you just leave her alone to move on and find her own happiness, whether it lies with someone else or not?"
"Because!" Javert finally shouted back. "Because...because that's the first time anyone's ever cried over me!" he murmured, but not so softly that no one could hear him.
"Oh, poor Javert," Cosette said sadly, wrapping a now human arm around a now human shoulder. "Poor, poor, Javert," she said with all sincerity.
"I know it's hard, Javert, but Fantine really is right," Valjean consoled. "You aren't her guardian angel; you're only the past memory of someone she once loved. Your job now is to figure out what to do with your daughter."
Javert sighed sadly. "So anything that ever was considered love is over now?"
"No, most certainly not," the wise old good Catholic man continued. "Death cannot stop love. It can only delay it for a little while."
...
Whilst the memory of Cojack the black German shepherd was a past memory for one Ms. Emily Leroux, it certainly wasn't a dead memory. Emily had picked up the framed picture of her beloved pooch, smiled fondly at it, and then went to go brush her teeth.
As she smeared spearmint tooth paste all over the purple brush, she considered that she might be going a little bit crazy. On occasion, she thought she almost saw Cojack again, as though he'd come back. But she was a sensible girl, and was certain this was only the fond wishing of a silly girl, and Emily detested being so silly.
She'd admitted to Jason a few weeks ago when they'd only just met that she thought she might be going crazy, seeing her dead dog all over her apartment. To her delight he hadn't laughed but seemed to give it serious thought, and said "You know, I had a cat like that once. He was in a dream of mine once, and he looked so creepy, I decided not to wish him back to life anymore."
That had made Emily laugh.
She sighed, rinsing her mouth out to get rid of the paste, and finally, resigned that even if she were going crazy, she wasn't going to be so fool hardy enough to even consider finding a pet physic.
...
P.O.V
Brianna
New York City, New York
Present Day: 2005
There are a few defined rules about dog life: Don't go into another's territory unless you're looking for trouble. When fighting, fight to maim, not to kill. If you do kill with intention and swift purpose, then you are a murder. And, of course, the ever famous Big Two: The law of Tooth and Claw, and Survival of the Fittest. They apply very well to the life of a stray dog in New York City.
You can find dogs that have owners who do believe in God, or dogs simply outside big city life, but no stray believes in God, for if He's there, what good has He ever done us?
I suppose that, all combined, is what condemned me to my fate.
But that is not until further ahead in the story.
The story goes, for now, like this:
It is a few days after I first see my father and I am elated! Even when I think of it now, I am so happy, I do not think! That is why, when it begins to rain a bit too hard to escape in a card board box, I decide to head for a dry thicket of trees within the cemetery.
I don't give a single thought as to whose territory it is.
Just as I am settled in for a long evening of sweet dreams, I hear the first, last, and only warning: The blood curdling snarl goes to a fevered pitch as the bitch rams straight into me.
"It is you!" she screams at me. "You are far out of your territory, loner! Out! Out now!" she demands.
It doesn't take the rest of the pack long to catch up, but they stay back. It is her fight.
"Please," I beg. "I just need a place to sleep for the night. Please, have mercy on a poor soul!"
"Mercy is for the weak," she cries, attacking me, her claws ripping down my side. I cry out in pain and skitter away, but do not fight.
"Please!" I beg once more. Why won't she let me stay? Suddenly, I can't remember any of the laws that are vital to life. She ignores my pleas, and takes a vicious bite out of me.
That does it.
It is war now! The blood flies in the rain and our claws rake terrible patterns on each other. My teeth sink into her back and she cries out in pain, now definitely beaten, and she is backing down. I don't care! I want her head!
Snarling, I follow her forward, and try to engage her in fighting with me. She is confused, and refuses. So much for her. My teeth, red stained with blood, lash out, getting a firm grip on her throat. Her pack is too terrified to move. No one ever followed up a fight like this before! If I wasn't careful, I'd kill!
Unfortunately, that's what I was going for.
Her eyes glaze over. She is in her last death throws. She hasn't a prayer now. Finally, like a sacrificial animal, she sinks to her knees, and makes no sound and makes no move.
Nor will she ever again.
Suddenly all that I have done comes swooping down on me, and, in horror, I look up at the Dead One's pack, which are backing away in terror.
"You killed her," one whispers.
I try to deny the truth before my eyes. "No...I- I didn't mean to! She...She hurt me! I just, I just!"
"You just wanted revenge!" an angered one cries.
"Well...Yes!"
"And you got it! She is dead because of you!"
"No! No, that's not true!"
"Your teeth latched onto her throat! You sucked the life out of her! You're a murderer!"
"No!" I cry, trying, trying desperately to deny it. Simultaneously, they run. The ground is mine; her blood is mine, and the price? That too is mine.
Oh Heaven above! What have I done?
...
Javert wasn't at all aware that any of this was going on at the time, and if he'd been told some pack was fighting, he'd give you a look of "What difference does that make to me?" and return to his business.
His business now was stalking.
"Javert, I hardly think stalking the one you love is going to do much to woo her," said a candid Fantine.
"Worked perfectly for me!" crowed Marius, who took a moment to snuggle his wife. Both Valjean and Fantine gave him a cold look and he realized his mistake, with a nervous laugh, and backed down.
"Oh, but this is fun!" Cosette cried happily, changing the subject. "We really ought to do this more often! Can't we, Papa? Can't we come back down and do this more often?"
What they were doing was sitting on the roof top of the theater, watching a Broadway Musical being performed. The musical? Why, Les Miserable, of course! Emily was in the theater with Jason, which was the only reason Javert agreed to stay to watch it. He loathed it with a passion, remembering days when Emily had played that horrid CD when he had lived with her.
"Of course, my dear!" Valjean said jovially. "It is a good group event!" Javert hated group activities. At the moment, he really, really hated this one because Valjean would not stop humming to it.
"No humming," Javert ordered with an icy glare in Valjean's direction.
Just to spite him, Valjean burst into loud song right on time with the performer below. The fact that Valjean was terribly tone-death did nothing to help. "YOU CAN TAKE! YOU CAN GIVE! LET HIM BE! LET HIM-"
"Enough!" cried Javert, covering his ears with his paws. Valjean stopped, for even the polite Fantine was cringing a bit. "Can't we go home?" Javert complained, having had quite enough interruptions to break into song. This was quite an astonishing request, for Javert never asked to go "home."
"But monsieur, aren't you enjoying yourself?" asked Cosette.
"They make me look like a religious psycho," he grumbled.
"Yeah, well, you are pretty weird," teased Marius, who was given a light hit by Cosette. Javert merely glared.
"Sorry monsieur," said Valjean. "We will stay until it is over. That's not too long from now anyway!"
It was long enough for Javert, who decided he wasn't even interested in following Emily home, if it truly was her life, which stunned the others. He was just tired and unhappy, and, like a child, wanted to go home, and repeated this desire several times.
"Oh, but can't we go down and see the set and the costumes?" begged Fantine, fascinated. Valjean decided it would be alright once everyone left, which was surprisingly soon. Apparently, they, too, were tired and wanted to go home to bed, like Javert. They glided through the ceiling with ease and comfort, slowly landing on the stage. After hunting around for a bit, they managed to find the light switch, and everything looked much better in the light. They found the costume room quickly enough, and it took Marius seconds to find a box full of things that hadn't yet been put away and were in disorder.
And with Marius, chaos could begin relatively quickly.
"Oh! Look at this!" Marius said, his tail wagging furiously. With his teeth, he pulled out a black cape with red on the side that went to the person's back, a brass chain around it. He unceremoniously draped this over Javert's head, despite Fantine shouting at Marius to put it down. Javert, now lost in a sea of cape, wriggled and struggled to find the edge. Unfortunately for him, he found the edge that the brass chain connected, so that the cloth really could be worn as a cape.
"Oh dear," said Valjean, a paw to his temple.
"Get it off!" Javert shouted, trying his best to wiggle out of it.
Marius was completely ignoring him, finding a lively pink bonnet and snagging that to Cosette's head, who was trying to reason with him to put everything back. It didn't do much good, for he put a flower purple hat on Fantine's head, a white cravat around Valjean, who looked down at it rather surprised, and finally, a large, black hat with one large, fluffy black feather in it for himself.
"Hey look!" he said importantly, pointing to his head. "I have a hat!"
"Yes, we can see that, now can we get out of these ridiculous costumes and go home yet?" Javert growled, irritated as he chewed at the brass around his neck.
"En garde! I'm a Musketeer!"
Cosette sighed, and tipped his hat forward and over his eyes. Marius stumbled and fell, shoving the hat back into place on his black head. He faked looking hurt at Cosette. "My lady! Doth thou fraternize with the enemy?"
Cosette giggled. "Oh, Marius!"
"Revenge!" he shouted, waving an invisible sword at Javert, who was getting steadily more annoyed. Fantine managed to rip off her bonnet, Valjean did the same with his cravat while he helped Cosette out of her own hat, and she managed to find the buckle for Javert's cape, and release him.
At just perfect timing, a security guard walked in, and was absolutely stunned as he saw nothing waving around a black hat and asking him "Can I keep this?" The man nodded faintly before falling to the floor.
Valjean shoved the crew out the door. "Let's get out of here before someone else finds us!"
...
Javert was nearly dead with fatigue in the elevator. His eyes were closed; he drooped against the wall, and snored very lightly. Marius and Valjean had to push him awake and out of the elevator. Yawning, he stepped out, and the five began walking off to go to sleep.
There was only one problem with that.
Javert was so tired he walked with his eyes closed. He knew the way to his room well enough. When he bumped against the solid thing, he didn't open one sleep blurred eye, but instead tried to go around it. He continued bumping into that same solid wall without even thinking what it was. Grumbling, he began to shove against it, when finally, he shouted "What is going on!" and opened his eyes angrily.
He visibly paled as a row of tall angels stared down at him. He noticed that the others were also looking fearfully at the row archangels. "Erm...Did I do something wrong?"
"Javert, there is a problem with your daughter. You must go back down immediately."
To Be Continued...
