Javert did his best to accept that the mayor wanted him to eat more. He truly tried his best to fulfil the man's wishes; after all he was indebted to him for allowing him to live in his home without worrying about rent. He continued to help Bernard with money; his wife was once again pregnant, as he had shared a few days ago. However, Madame Bernard was struggling with an ill humour that was worrying them; the doctor had told her to rest and to remember to eat. Bernard was spending less time than he wanted at the station, trying his best to help the woman pull through.
Javert did not exactly care for Bernard's wife; he had only met the woman once, and she had threatened him to take good care of her husband, however, he did care for Bernard; possibly even considered the man a friend, as far as Javert could accept friendship. The man had not been entirely comfortable accepting Javert's money, but had taken it with the promise to pay him back.
It was over a week after this, nearly three weeks after Javert had moved into Madeleine's home that Casper, Javert's horse fell ill. The stallion was fairly old, and Javert should have traded him for a younger police horse a few years ago. However, Casper was loyal, brave and Casper was Javert's friend. The inspector had informed Paris he would keep the horse himself, agreeing when they told him he would have to cover any illnesses or visits to the smithy himself.
The animal had held strong for a time, and even though he was now old, not particularly capable of galloping quickly and often tired easily, Javert still rode him. The past winter had been bitter, and Javert had been concerned that Casper would not survive, but he had. It was typical that just as Javert was starting to relax as the ice and snow covering the streets retreated, his horse now fell ill.
He had called out a doctor of veterinary medicine, hoping for some good news, but expecting the worst. The man had told him to keep the stables warm, to make sure the horse was well tended to and to feed him cowparsley, nettles, apples and tips of golden rod. Javert had made careful note of this, including his suggestion to let Casper explore bushes and woodlands to pick out what he wanted, but to avoid boggy areas that had hemlock and hogwort.
Javert had paid attention, and then given the man his fee, which was far too much, but would be worth it if Casper survived. It was not that Javert meant to stop eating again, but he honestly had good reasons for it this time.
The first and most important was, again, money. He had to pay for the doctor. He also had to have money in case Casper did not improve; the doctor had promised to bring several potions and remedies he could make if the horse needed it. The man had agreed to come out next week, if Casper was still ailing. Javert needed money for this.
He was aware that Madeleine had told him not to worry about what he had to spend, but Javert could not ask the mayor to pay for a horse that was still in service simply because Javert had felt too attached to it. It would not be proper.
Javert had also bought a thick blanket to go over Casper when he was in the stables. The nights here got very cold, and it would not do to have the horse even colder.
Another problem in eating was Javert's appetite. It had been starting to come back, but now that he was spending time kneeling in a stall, combing Casper's mane, his stomach felt full of some poison. Food did not go down anymore, he vomited up everything.
He knew he was worrying Madeleine again, that he ought to just explain his stallion was ill. However, speaking about it made him feel faint, as though admitting the words out loud would make it all too real; as though speaking the words aloud was synonymous with a death sentence.
A week later though, and Casper had not improved; in fact, Casper had declined. Madeleine had forced the situation out of him when he had spotted Javert coming in late one night with silent tears falling down his fall cheeks, though Javert had not felt them begin.
The man had called him a fool, and explained that while he may not care for a horse that was past its prime, he did care for Javert. He had then proceeded to fulfil his need to be a hero and had written a letter to a more renowned doctor of veterinary medicine to come to their aid. Javert had felt torn between his gratitude in the help he was receiving and bitterness, as he was not some struggling damsel that needed help in everything.
He had spent the night pressed into Madeleine's arms, wishing he could do more.
A week later and Casper died. Javert had walked to the stables in the morning, stopping by as he did to see Casper before starting his shift, but the stable boy had come to him with a grim countenance. Javert had understood before the child even opened his mouth.
He had gone to work with a heavy heart. The devastation he had felt to so strong it would have startled him to see, if he had not been experiencing it. He had struggled through the shift, and then headed back home. Madeleine was surprised to see him back so early, but had embraced him as he tried to speak the words.
Casper was dead.
His dear stallion... He remembered getting the young, excitable colt, tossing its mane in the cool autumn air. The young horse had taken to him quickly, though it had not seemed too happy about being taken from its rake of young colts to work for the police, but Javert had been taught to handle him well, and they had gotten along wonderfully.
He pressed his face into Madeleine's neck, breathing in the comforting scent of the man and taking comfort in the rub of his hands. He had been eighteen when he had gotten Casper, having just joined the police. He had been going into the prisons to work as a guard, but his training officer had gifted him with a horse. It was an unusual gift, but the man had always had a soft spot for Javert...
The companionship of Casper had kept Javert going, even when dealing with the difficulties of the convicts, and of Pascal and the other guards. His only friend...
27 was a good age for a horse, really, but as Madeleine helped him out of his clothing, and into the bedroom, he wished they could have had more years together. It had been more than an animal, but a friend through hard times.
"Sleep." Whispered Madeleine, pressing a kiss over his eye. Javert shut his eyes, feeling terribly glad the man had not brought up eating dinner.