I apologize profusely that I completely, yet quite unintentionally, lied to you all about updating sooner. School is torturing me slowly with lab reports and exams and looking for jobs and trying not lose my head in the process. I'm stealing time just to put this up. Therefore, I beg you gentle readers, be kind and indulge me a little more with your patience. I will do what I can.

8

Valjean had gone to attend to his duties as superintendent and had left the inspector alone. Javert had had to promise to stay in bed and not to do any further injury to himself before his caretaker left. Exasperated at the request, Javert had reluctantly grated out the assurance, knowing it would bind him irrevocably. The man may have had a skewed sense of justice but his word was good and Valjean trusted him to keep it. And so the older Frenchman went off without a second thought on the subject and left the invalid to drown in his own thoughts.

Javert had several hours to think about what had happened during the past two days. It left him quiet and sullen, aching for something to occupy his mind. He did not sleep, as Valjean had told him to do, but he did not leave either. He simply lay in bed, propped up on some pillows, contemplating his life and it's meaninglessness. But it wasn't until the former convict re-entered the room that he at last felt the gravity of his actions toward his savior.

"How are you feeling?" The super asked cheerily.

"Well enough." Valjean smiled at the curt reply and strode towards his desk. There he retrieved the discarded linen that he had laid aside the day previous. Folding the clothing over an arm he returned to place a hand on Javert's brow. The inspector wanted to shy away but knew any resistance would be futile. He allowed the contact out of necessity, looking down to regain some dignity. It was only then that he saw the reddish-brown smears across stark white cloth.

"Ah!" Javert exclaimed unwittingly as he saw the bloodied shirt and remembered the earlier fight. Valjean looked at him worriedly.

"Is something wrong?"

"Your… your shirt," he said dumbly, realizing too late the absurdity or his outburst.

"Oh." Valjean looked down at the cloth, embarrassed at the position in which he had placed the inspector. "Yes. I left it here last night. I must have forgotten to take it with me to the other room."

"And you?" Javert queried hesitantly, his gaze locked on the dried blood. "Are you…"

"In perfect health," Valjean said with a smile, placing a hand to his collar. "M. Jareth was kind enough to attend to it before we left to… well to find you," he finished awkwardly. But if the older man had laid a clumsy hand on a still open wound, Javert did not seem to mind or object. He nodded mutely, his eyes once more downcast. He was quiet and submissive, as he had been to Valjean when he was still Monsieur le Maire. In his office, Javert had been apologetic, self-derogatory, asking to be dismissed in disgrace for his "crime." He seemed very much the same man now and worry bubbled in Valjean's mind.

"Perhaps I should not have left him alone after all," he thought anxiously. He set down the offending clothing, carefully placed to keep any stains out of sight. He then sat in the chair he had placed earlier by the bedside, unsure of how to proceed. If having a conversation had been uncomfortable before, this was downright awkward.

"Were you all right while I was away?" Valjean asked quietly. Javert nodded again but refused to look up. Silence descended once more on the unfortunate pair and Valjean chewed his lip absently, trying to think of a way to change the mood.

"Take some water," he said at last, at a loss of how to handle things. "It will help with the fever." Javert complied, obedient as a child. He did not shake off the hand that helped him to a sitting position and even allowed Valjean to raise the glass to his lips, not a word of protest uttered. Valjean refreshed the cold compress then sat back to watch his patient. Javert shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of his caretaker. Fiddling with the hem of the sheet he very abruptly voiced his thoughts.

"About the harm I've done you, I apologize Valjean. I was in the wrong." He had been very direct but then added uncertainly, "I… I don't know what came over me."

"It's over now, think on it no more. Whatever happened to your memory must have influenced you somehow."

"I attacked you in anger, I could have killed you! Regardless of what caused my actions, I am still responsible. You madden me! After everything I've put you through in both this life and the last, you continue to show me kindness."

"It was once a man who showed me mercy and kindness when I had done him wrong," he replied quietly. "Despite what you think of yourself and what you've done, I believe there is a good man hidden beneath that cold, severe exterior. You just need to allow him to live." Javert turned and looked into Valjean's eyes for the first time, confused and surprised by his statement. They were kind, confident and reassuring.

"You've changed in your time here," he continued gently. "I've seen how you act with the others and how you have begun to let go of your past. I cannot imagine how this must throw you into turmoil but perhaps it is good for you to realize that while the past is still a part of you, you can't allow it to control the new life you've begun."

"Valjean, I…"

"Shhh," he interrupted, laying a hand on the inspector's shoulder. "Rest now. We will talk more later." Javert made to protest but at a look from Valjean the words died in his throat. He simply looked away. Valjean left the room, sighing after the door was closed behind him. Their next conversation would be difficult, even by their standards.