Thank you all for the comments. Yes, I know the last chapter was a little strange and the inspector we know would never act so aggressively. All I have to say on that account is plot-devices.
As to injuries sustained, I do understand that open clavicle fractures are uncommon but take into consideration the force of the blow from a heavy lead-tipped cane that Hugo describes as "massive," and the fact that Valjean, while very strong, is still a man in the later stages of life. As we grow older, the elasticity of our bones fades, leaving them brittle (which is why the elderly can break a hip just by falling). So um…yeah. That's my explanation for that. Javert without cane would have done a lot less damage. _
Please bear with me. This story is going in a, hmm, different direction then I thought it would at the beginning. That being said, if updates do not occur every five days as per usual I apologize but I am currently on vacation, school is starting up again soon and I have a lot on my plate at the moment. I do intend to bring this to a close so I do not want to give the impression of leaving it unfinished. It may just take a wee bit longer to do so.
This chapter may be confusing to those of you who are not acquainted with the Roommates comic (since that is really what this is based on). Therefore, all pairings/character choices are the ideas of AsheRhyder. Sorry for the long intro.
6
Javert was nowhere to be found. Valjean ran around the building searching for him, asking anyone he passed if they had seen him. He was met with cries of horror at his appearance but not a single sighting to help his cause. He went to his apartment and pounded on the door frantically. All classes had been cancelled due to the weather and Valjean prayed James was still home. Sure enough, the door was answered promptly and a half-clad James Norrington gasped when he saw the bruised and bloodied form of the superintendent.
"Mister Valjean! What on earth happened?"
"I'm sorry, there's no time to explain now. Is Javert home?"
"No. In fact I haven't seen him since yesterday. Is he in trouble?"
"I don't know yet but I think he might try to… repeat certain actions which would prove extremely hazardous and potentially fatal."
"Oh no. There aren't any bridges nearby are there? Have you searched the building?"
"Yes. He's nowhere in sight. He must have gone outside."
"In this weather? We have to find him fast! I'll help you look. I think I can get Erik and Jareth to help as well."
"Thank you. Any and all help is much appreciated. I need to find some more appropriate attire so I'll let you get ready yourself and meet you and whoever you enlist on the first floor in ten minutes."
"Lobby in ten minutes. Got it." Valjean rushed off and James ran to his room to put on something other then sweatpants. As he ransacked his closet, a pair of arms snaked around his chest.
"Jamie, come back to bed," the voice purred against his back. He sighed, turning in her grasp.
"I can't. I have to go help look for Javert."
"Javert!" James could hear the contempt in her voice. "We finally have some time alone together and you want to go looking for Javert?"
"I know this is unfair to you Éponine, but he's in serious trouble right now. I promise I'll make this up to you somehow, ok?" She huffed but kissed him anyway. She never could refuse those beautiful green eyes.
"You'd better not forget."
xxx
Jareth lay sprawled on the couch in an undignified heap. Frantic knocking fell on deaf ears as the deposed Goblin King had wrapped a pillow around his head to drown out the "noise" his roommate was producing. Over the sound of his piano Erik had heard the summons and, sighing, called to his flat mate to answer the door. When no response was given and the knocking continued, the exasperated musician rose, carefully closed the keyboard cover and made his way to the anteroom where his bane resided.
"Sulking again?" he jibed at the lounging fae.
"I'm not sulking you pompous French peacock," he huffed angrily. Erik smirked at the remark in amusement and made his way to the door.
"Touchy. Love troubles? Or should I say stalking troubles?"
"Oh yes, you should know all about that," he shot back. Erik stopped at the couch and peered down his nose at his adversary.
"Not taking the cute owl ploy anymore is she? Maybe you should be a man and talk to her about it face to face." Jareth wheeled on the phantom.
"I will not take advice from a deformed recluse who had to brainwash the girl he wanted because she would never have come willingly!"
"And I will not be insulted by a frivolous fairy who kidnaps children!"
"She wanted me to take him!"
The pillow hit Erik full in the face, and he had to catch his mask before it fell away. They were at each other's throats then, glitter, rope and insults flying, when a loud banging interrupted their fight. Both men turned towards the door in aggravation.
"WHAT?" They yelled in unison. James' muffled voice came from the hallway.
"Cease your incessant quarreling and open the bloody door! It's important!" Erik shot Jareth a look that could peel paint, reclaimed his lasso, and complied with James' request. Once inside, the former commodore related to them what he had been told minutes previous by the superintendent.
"Is he really going to try and do himself in again?" Jareth asked as he "magic-ed" himself into some warmer clothes. Erik scowled at the glitter that covered the couch and surrounding carpet but kept quiet for his fellow countryman's sake.
"That's what Mr. Valjean thinks. He's known Javert for longer then any of us have, being from the same story and all." Erik nodded his assent.
"And if he does decide to try something drastic we need to find him before he succeeds in doing so."
Worried over the well being of their friend, the trio quickly dressed and made their way to the rendezvous point. After meeting downstairs, James, Jareth, Erik and Valjean split up to look for the missing inspector. The storm had gotten worse into the early evening and it was almost impossible to see anything. If it hadn't been for Jareth's magic, they never would have found him. He was lying facedown in the snow, almost completely covered and freezing cold. He was still alive, but just barely.
Quickly, they carried him inside and Valjean insisted he be put up in his rooms. The other three didn't argue. They got him into bed, used every blanket they could find and cranked the radiator way up. Jareth did what he could to help the process along and when all were satisfied that Javert wouldn't die of cold they said their goodbyes and left the two Frenchmen alone.