Blood

"Oh God, Cosette." Valjean didn´t even notice his chair toppling over, as he ran to his daughter. But she only raised a hand, way too calm for her own appearance. Even Javert was flustered by the sight of her bloody dress.

"I´m fine." she told him, and her voice sounded tired, not scared, or concerned, or any of the other mental states a young woman like her should be in, when she showed up, covered over and over in blood. Not hers.

"What happened?" Valjean demanded to know. He glared at the boy, clearly wishing for a reason to blame him on the spot. But he didn´t have one, not yet.

"I didn´t get there until it was over." the boy said, unwillingly giving Valjean what he´d waited for.

"Why?" he barked. "Where were you when this happened?"

"It wasn´t his fault." Cosette spoke, before Marius had a chance. She sat down, her legs shaking and Valjean went down along with her, kneeling like one would kneel before a small child.

"I went to the theater alone." she told, totally out of context. "And if Pascal hadn´t found Marius here at the house, instead of you, he wouldn´t have known at all."

Valjean´s eyes searched Javert´s, instinctively. For help? This last remark had clearly been a strike against him. You haven´t been there either, Dad!

"We were … out." Valjean tried to explain his absence and soon would have lost himself in explanations and justifications, things they didn´t have time for. So Javert took over, before it would get out of hand.

"Who´s Pascal?" he asked. "And what theater are you talking about?"

The girl glanced at him for a moment, clearly not amused. But eventually she answered.

"He came here with a message for Papa. He said you payed him to find someone. A family?"

"The boy." Valjean´s gaze was full of awe, shock almost. The kid had come back after all.

"Did he find them?" Javert asked and Cosette nodded.

"I told him to show me where they were."

"Cosette!" Valjean visibly paled at the thought, but her gaze was stern.

"You weren´t there." she sounded accusing stating this simple fact. "And I figured that time might be short. I thought I could help."

"You could have send for me." Marius took over, taking her hand again and knelt down before her chair, just like Valjean. He bumped into his side, as if by accident. "I could have come with you." he told Cosette. "I could have protected you."

"Really, you could have?" Valjean glared at the boy. "Then why did this happen? I thought you´re so keen about being around her all the time."

"I believe it´s less important why things happened, than what!" Javert stopped this ridiculous fight before it could even start. "I for my part am dying to know what happened at this damn theater."

All three of them lowered their eyes for a moment, like rebuked children. Good.

"Pascal told me that there were people there." Cosette went on. "Homeless. They work in a kitchen in the back of the theater, running a small restaurant for the poor. The owner of the theater allows them to sleep in the old dorm if they want to."

"And our family is there too?" Had it not been for Cosette´s bloody dress, Javert would have stormed out and marched to the theater at once. But the blood spoke a clear language. Something had already happened there. Something bad.

"Did they attack you?" Valjean was aghast at the idea. "Or one of the others there?"

But Cosette shook her head. "No everyone there was really nice." she said and for a moment her collected mask cracked, and Javert could see tears in her eyes. "You would like them, really. The things they accomplished there …" she shook her head. "But I didn´t get a chance to speak to those people you searched."

Valjean took both her hands, out of Marius´, as if the boy wasn´t even there. "Cosette." he spoke, softly. "What happened?"

For a moment Javert believed the girl would start crying, but then she pulled it back, just as quick as it had started, and simply kept talking.

"I sent Pascal back to the house." she gulped the rest of this lump in her throat. "In case you´d be back by then. I thought in the meantime I could talk to some of those people. Find this family before you got there. To save you some time." She took a shaking breath. "Only I didn´t." Her gaze showed clearly how she was reliving the fear again, while the memories came back to her. "Someone else did."

"Oh God." Valjean exclaimed and his gaze was so helpless. So lost. "I should have never … I …"

"It was not her place to be." Javert stopped him, impatiently. "And she was not supposed to be here at the house either. That the boy found her was nothing you could have foreseen." he turned to Cosette. "And you shouldn´t have meddled in our business, Mademoiselle. These things are not for civilians. There is police and there is citizens. You could have gotten hurt."

Cosette glared at him, with seething disgust. "You are not police either." she stated clearly, her voice so low he almost didn´t hear it. Almost. God, this girl knew how to aim.

"But he´s right." Valjean saved him, finally getting up. "You shouldn´t have gone there. What if you´d gotten hurt? You have any idea what that would have done to me?"

"Or me." Marius demanded his share of attention.

"I …"

"She still hasn´t told us what happened." Javert raised a hand, stepping between this.

"What happened?" Marius cried. "These men you´re hunting … They found her. That´s what happened."

"What?" Valjean was too startled by these news to realize the accusation behind the boy´s words. And that was probably a good thing.

"They killed a man." Marius cried. "Before her eyes. They could have killed her too. If I hadn´t interrupted them just in time …"

"Cosette." Valjean was back with his daughter instantly, but this time Marius would not allow him to steal his show. He seriously grabbed Valjean, and made him look at him, away from her.

"I don´t know what you were thinking when you brought these things into her life." he hissed at him. "But maybe this is something totally normal for an ex criminal like you."

Javert instinctively moved when Valjean grabbed the boy. There was something unusually dangerous in his eyes. Something the boy seemed unreceptive for.

"All right, that´s enough!" the former inspector bellowed, tearing them apart.

He shoved them both away from Cosette, making it clear that this fight would not be fought today. And the girl, as unbelievable as it was, actually took her place behind his shoulder, as if she was glad to be shielded from this, even if it was by him. When he was sure neither Valjean nor the boy would object against his intervention, he turned to the girl.

"Would you mind telling the story yourself?"
She only nodded, grateful actually to be put back in charge. "I talked to the owner of that theater. Told her we´d like to support her project with some money. She shouldn´t be scared by me asking questions."

Javert nodded, silently commenting her about this approach.

"And then there was noise from above." she went on. "As if people were fighting. And shouts."

"Yeah, I heard that too." Marius chipped in. "I´d just arrived with the kid."

"She´s talking!" Javert silenced him. "What happened?"

"You heard a scream, Marius." she corrected her fiance. "That was later." She glanced at Javert briefly but obviously felt more comfortable looking at her father. "They took the wife." she said. "I don´t know why. When we ran upstairs … all I could see was the blood. It was everywhere." She needed a moment to collect herself. "They´d stabbed the man. He lay on the ground. Some others tried to help him, but … I don´t believe they chased them away. These people were too scared to have scared anyone away. I tried …" she shook her head, helplessly. "I didn´t know how to help the man. He was already fading."

"Cosette, I´m so sorry." Valjean spoke. "You shouldn´t have seen this."

"He grabbed me." she just went on, ignoring her father´s words, as well as her fiance´s glare at Valjean. "In his struggle with death. He begged me to find and save his wife. To bring her back. Because she was the only one who knew."

Javert was not alone with his impatience to hear her continue. Only she didn´t.

"Knew?" he asked. "Knew what?"

But Cosette only looked at him, chuckling quietly. Good question, right? "He died …" she said. "Before he could tell me."

Dammit.

"What you heard, Marius, was the scream of the woman." Cosette went back again. "They dragged her behind … I guess. I could hear her but I couldn´t move."

"Yeah, I …" Marius was much more humble all the sudden. "I saw a carriage leave." He turned to Javert. "I found her over the bleeding man. She told me to hurry and stop these men. I tried, but I wasn´t fast enough. All I saw was the fiacre driving away."

"What kind of fiacre?" Javert instantly asked. "How big? How many horses?"

"Big." the student answered. "Two horses."

All right. Javert nodded. That at least was better than nothing.

"We´ll go back there." he decided, actually ordering Valjean, who wouldn´t have moved from his daughter´s side if it had been up to him. "See what we can find out." he turned to Marius. "You stay with her. And from now on," he faced Cosette. "You´ll leave this kind of work to your father and me. You understand?"

He could see in her eyes, that if things had been different, and if she hadn´t just watched a man die under her hands, she would have objected, never giving him any right at all to tell her what to do. But she had seen a man die, and no matter how well she hid it, she was shocked, and scared to death.

Javert just nodded, grateful not to hear any objections for a change. A single glance at Valjean was all it took, and his partner followed him outside. Hesitating but he did.

...

"And did you find anything at the theater?" Vidocq asked him.

"It was already getting dark." Javert answered as if this would excuse their lack of success. "These people were not the most talkative ones. And the few things they could tell us, were not very helpful. From what I remember it had not been a planned killing. The man had struggled against those kidnappers, and by some stupid accident had gotten a knife into his guts. Probably a knife he´d tried to use himself to fight those men." He shook his head. "They took the wife as a substitute. For whatever information she had in her head."

Vidocq frowned, deeply. "You don´t know what it was?"

Javert looked up, but didn´t answer. And Vidocq sighed.

"What did you do after that?"

"You misunderstand." Javert closed his eyes, taking his glass again, before glancing back up at Vidocq. "It wasn´t over. Not that night."

He could see how the burly spy began to guess something. His eyes went down, wandering around for a moment, trying to think.

"When exactly was that?" he asked, for confirmation, and Javert almost laughed. Good, he was getting there.

"Two days ago." he said. "Wednesday night."

Vidocq´s gaze cleared, mouth opening. "The night of the fire."

The smile that had somehow snuck onto Javert´s features vanished, never to be seen again. He didn´t even need to nod. Vidocq knew he was right.

"It was Valjean´s house that burned that night." He looked past Vidocq, into the distance, and the memory was enough to bring the pictures back. "We saw the smoke. Even from the theater." he shook his head, still not able to get the image out of his mind. "We both knew instantly that something was wrong. We just didn´t know how wrong."

...

When they´d gotten back, the house had been blazing. Thanks to some godly blessing, that Javert could not quite believe in, the firewards had reached the street very quick. Probably the only reason why the house remained the only loss that night, and not the whole neighborhood.

The police was there too, securing the street while the firemen were pumping water onto the house. One officer was very busy with the two witnesses, he´d found. Especially with the female one.

Cosette for her own part was very busy trying to get him off her case.

"I said I´m fine!" she cried, pushing him away, as he tried to examine her closer. When she saw her father though, she finally became the child again she had once been.

"Papa!" she threw herself into his arms, and Valjean of course was holding her tight.

Javert stepped between them and the officer, who still wasn´t willing to be dismissed.

"Keep your distance, man." he told him, still very polite for his standards. But the young officer was not intimidated that easily.

"You know I can´t do that." he told him, and the gaze he saw reminded Javert of some of the better young men he´d known under his command. He regarded the young lad, trying to read him.

"You know me, don´t you?" he asked for confirmation and the officer nodded.

"Yes, I do."

Javert narrowed his eyes. "You know what happened today?" he demanded, but this time he only received a frown, suspicious, but unknowing. No, he´d not been with these men that had attacked him and Valjean. But that didn´t have to mean anything.

"Javert!" Valjean´s call made him swirl around. There was something in his gaze – something urgent and demanding, and it told Javert instantly that something was wrong.

He gestured for the officer to stay where he was and repeated one last time, emphasizing: "Keep your distance."

The man started to follow, demanding his place, but Javert stopped him.

"I said … give us a second."

This time his tone worked. The man stopped, and took a step back. He would not be dismissed for long though, Javert could tell. But at least he respected their wish for the moment. A good man. Or at least the potential for one. Javert turned to Valjean.

The ex convict grabbed his arm, and alone this gesture was enough to tell Javert that he was scared. Just how much, Javert knew when he whispered into his ear.

"She said a man came, asking for me." Valjean´s grip got stronger. "Antoine. For me."

It took Javert a moment, but seeing the fear in Valjean´s eyes, he finally began to understand the meaning of his words. For him. Him. Dear God.

He looked about, by instinct, searching the surroundings with his eyes. Corners and shadows everywhere. So many places where someone could hide. Watching. Waiting. And he could see nothing, no one at all. The fire blinded his eyes for the darkness, making it even more impenetrable.

Again the hand on his arm grabbed faster, demanding his attention. "I know he´s here." Valjean hissed. "He´s here, Antoine. He´s watching us." his eyes were on the same dark spots Javert had eyed just a moment ago, and his eyes were so haunted. Like that of a mad man. A paranoid. Only Javert knew better than to call him that.

Valjean shook his head. "If we leave this place, he´ll find us." he looked so helpless now, pleading Javert for advice. For help. Guidance. "She´d never be save, no matter where I hide her."

For a moment, Javert felt Valjean´s helplessness infecting him. He was right. Of course he was right. There was no way they could ever be completely sure to have lost their pursuer before they´d go to their homes, no matter if it would be the apartment or the Pontmercy mansion. An attacker like this would not be stopped by any of those doors. And catching him was very unlikely. So what to do? What? If they didn´t find a way now, they´d never sleep again. Dammit, if only he still held the power he once held. He would be able to protect them. But this way he was powerless. So …

His head swirled around, back to the young officer. And his feet started moving before he even knew it.

"We need to report a burglary." he told the man, and the officer frowned.

"All right." he said. "I listen."

"Not here. At the station."

The man narrowed his eyes. And Javert stepped closer.

"Listen to me. You say you know me. Then you must know I don´t trust the police anymore, not after what happened."

"Then why do you want to come to the station?"

"Exactly."

That was all Javert would say, and somehow his gaze did the rest. The young officer might not completely understand it all, but he understood enough to know that this was about something more serious than a simple burglary gone wrong.

"You want to come and report." he repeated, as if to make sure. Javert nodded. And the officer raised his brows. "To report what happened?"

Javert halted, only for a second. "You´ll get a report." he promised, nothing more. "You do want to know where the blood on her dress comes from, don´t you?"

He gestured behind himself at Cosette, and the young officer reconsidered. Eventually he nodded. "All right. But it better be a good explanation."

"Right." Javert agreed, but didn´t intent to explain what he meant. He´d talked to this lad long enough. Now there were other people who needed his attention.

"What are you doing?" Valjean hissed, more scared than before. "Why would you …?"

But this time Javert´s grip was faster than Valjean´s, and his warning glare, merely inches away from his own face, silenced him. He didn´t need to say it. Valjean understood more than enough only by this glance. And Javert knew the only thing he could say that would silence him for good. Something Valjean hated as much as he hated it when Valjean called him Antoine. Because he was just as powerless against it.

He said: "Trust me."

...

There was a tiny smirk in Vidocq´s eyes, but for the most part he was anxious. Anxious to hear the next part.

"What did you tell them?" he asked, and Javert almost laughed about this eagerness. Like a child that wanted to hear the ending to a campfire story. Well, since this was why he was still here in this house, and not out there in the streets fighting for his life and running from the police like a dog, he could as well do him the favor.

"We told them there´d been a burglary. That two men struggled for reasons we didn´t know. And the blood on the girl´s dress was from that."

Vidocq laughed, very delighted now. "Not even a lie. Very good. What did they say?"

Javert watched him snicker, amused as if witnessing a very funny stage act. And the burly spy seemed to be amused even more by his silence.

"Don´t tell me they believed you." he chuckled and Javert closed his eyes, tired of it at last.

"Of course they didn´t believe it."

...

He had expected it would be him who´d lose his patience with the police first, knowing that there´d be questions that probably wouldn´t make much sense – and yes, he was well aware of the fact that there´d been a time when he´d asked these questions and that back then they had made sense to him. But since he knew better by now, of course he´d seen it coming. Maybe that was the reason why he could stand it longer than Valjean, who once again managed it to take him by surprise, bursting out in the middle of their questioning.

"Someone … set my house on fire!" he cried, throwing both of his hands on Gisqet´s desk. "I don´t know who it was and neither does my daughter. We told you he wore a mask."

"They." Javert corrected, quickly, before Valjean could blow their story with his outburst.

"It just seems strange to me that you insisted on reporting, and now that you actually have the chance to report you refuse to give us any details."

"There are no details." Javert stated, collected, before Valjean could shout again.

The police prefect regarded him, suspiciously, and eventually found: "I find that hard to believe. An observant man like you? And you missed details?"

"We weren´t there when it happened."

"You weren´t."

Javert could feel Valjean´s anger increase at the sound of doubt in Gisquet´s voice. But it was the young officer who spoke first after that.

"Actually …" he said, gaining the prefect´s attention with his professional tone. "It´s true. They arrived after the firewards had already started to put out the fire."

Gisqet only raised a doubting brow. "They could have left the scene before you got there and come back to make it look like that."

"Oh dear God, you really believe what you´re saying?" Valjean finally cried out. "You suspect Javert, again, of a crime he didn´t commit? Didn´t you do enough of that already?"

"Monsieur, calm down." Gisqet demanded, but without success.

"Instead of suspecting him of a ridiculous crime, you should rather ask why some of your men wear cuts on their cheeks lately."

Javert took his arm, trying to silence him before it got out of hand, but Gisqet had heard it, and there was no way to change that again.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"You heard me."

Javert tugged Valjean a little more. "Let´s go. They have no reason to hold us." He faced the prefect. "And we´re done here."

"Just one more minute, Javert." Gisqet rose from his seat. "Alone?"

"No." Valjean instantly denied, and somehow managed it to sound like a stubborn kid. Javert made him look at him, telling him with a nod, to let it be. That he would handle this.

"Wait outside with your daughter." he told him, and after a disdainful glance at Gisqet Valjean obeyed.

"You too, Biringer." the prefect ordered his officer. "This is between me and Javert."

The young man performed a quick respectful bow and left without a word. And Javert watched his former boss, walk around the desk, towards him.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "We have nothing more to say."

"I was wondering." Gisqet spoke. "An inspector as dedicated as you … I can´t imagine you staying out of the force like you did all these months."

"I thought it healthier to stay away from it for a change."

Gisqet didn´t react to the implication, if he´d even heard it. But on the other hand … of course he had.

"Tell me one thing." Javert could not help but ask. "Do you know about it? Did you hear what they did and decided to look the other way?"

Again Gisquet wouldn´t answer. Instead he forced the chat into another direction, rather obvious.

"I was wondering who this man is." he gestured for the door. "You never had any friends, not as long as I know you."

"He´s not a friend."

"Then what is he? A partner in crime?"

"That´s not your concern." Javert tried to turn around.

"I´ve known men like you my whole life." Gisqet insisted. "A dedication like yours usually doesn´t change sides. What was it that earned him your loyalty?"

Javert felt tempted to leave the prefect without an answer and that probably would have been for the best. But something inside him just couldn´t be stopped.

He said: "He never tried to kill me. Not even remotely."

And seeing the proper reaction in Gisqet´s face, he finally turned away and left.

...

They´d dropped the kids off at the Pontmercy mansion, figuring they´d be safest there. After they finally reached Valjean´s apartment, the old man went straight to the window, peeking out like a paranoid.

"You think he followed us?" he whispered. And Javert didn´t say anything. He silently reached past him and closed the curtains, blocking his view out as well as anyone´s view in.

"I have no idea how you managed it to hide from me for that long." he growled. "It is as if you want someone to see you."

Valjean visibly got smaller at this, but his worry wasn´t gone at all. "What if he followed us to the mansion after all?" he asked. "If he´s planning to attack them during the night. We should have stayed there."

"He´s after you, not them."

"And if he plans to get to me over Cosette? We shouldn´t have left her there alone."

Javert grabbed his shoulder, stopping him with force when he tried to head for the door, to run straight back to the mansion. "Stop that." he demanded.

"She´s safe where she is. No one followed us, not there not here. Trust me. I´ve got a feeling for these things."

"So do I."

"Really?" Javert glanced at him, blankly, asking. "Do you really? Or do you rather see shadows wherever you go? After all this time I wouldn´t be surprised."

Valjean relaxed a little, defeated, under Javert´s hand. And the former inspector nodded, satisfied.

"Go to bed." he ordered. "Rest. You´re half dead by now."

"You don´t have to take care of me like this."

But Javert insisted. "Yes, I do. Go."

When he saw the old man smile at him, so grateful, his hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder tighter. And while his mind still told him that this was wrong, that it hadn´t happened like that, he pulled Valjean in, and hugged his old foe, so tight as if he was hugging his long lost brother.

It was wrong. Altering memories like that felt like a betrayal. Javert knew that. Even if he did it secretly, without letting anyone – especially Vidocq – know. But he also knew that the last thing on Valjean´s mind would have been embarrassment. He probably would have reacted just like Javert imagined it now. Startled at first but accepting then, embracing the gesture. And he wouldn´t have cared at all, even if the whole world would have seen it. Sentimental old man.

Yeah, he probably would have, if it had ever happened. If Javert ever had had the courage to do this. If this leopard would have been able to change his spots, then maybe he could have actually given this kind of comfort. The way he felt it that night, not capable of dealing with the feeling then. In retrospective things always looked different. Felt different. And knowing what he knew now, Javert wished he would have done it. He really did.

But he hadn´t. The truth was that they had parted without much ardor, that Valjean had silently accepted his order to go to sleep, and the only true part in this made up memory was the grateful smile he´d given Javert. Javert had watched him go, and his eyes had been drawn to the key, still in the lock of the door. It hadn´t been the first time that he´d seen the silly heart shape carved into it. And he still regarded it as corny as ever.

He recalled having turned the key a second time, before he returned to the window to take his post there for the night. Just in case someone really should have followed them. But no one came for them that night. … Not in that night.