Hello, dear readers. I know I´ve been away for a while, but I was asked for a "Christmas gift", and when asked so nicely it´s hard to say no. And since I didn´t write this story to keep it to myself, here we go ...

Disclaimer: It´s obvious since this is fanfiction but I say it anyway: This story might be mine but the characters and settings are the brainchild of one Victor Hugo. I do not make any money with this.

Defenders of the Law

It all began with a simple decision. And to be honest this decision had not even been theirs. But then again, to be totally honest … it had been. Because taking Vidocq´s advice had been a choice, not an order. And he´d been the one to always tell them, to never, ever let family get in the way with business. The bastard. But in the end he had been right, of course. Because had they gone on this mission alone, without Cosette and Marius and the kids … maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe.

But who´d ever be able to tell …

...

It wasn´t the first train to ever drive through the lands of France. The railway between Roanne and Lyon was there for 3 years after all. But it was the first one Valjean ever got to see – and ride. A monster colossus, a snake that ran over the land in an insane speed, screaming and spitting steam like a giant metal dragon, faster than any fiacre he´d ever been on.

He knew, technically it wasn´t all that fast. 48 miles per hour was still a measurable speed for some. But he´d seen people fall off carriages, one very bad case in particular who had ended up with several broken bones, one of them his skull, and he was sure that if anyone should ever fall out of this new age monster, they would not be so lucky.

Respectively nervous did he feel, having to ride this beast. And even more to have his whole family enter it. Dammit, he should have never allowed Vidocq to convince him about this insanity. But back then he hadn´t known.

"You simply take the train down to Lyon." he´d said. "Take the family. No one will suspect anything. It´ll be just a family vacation. It´ll be fun, you´ll see."

The only problem was that inbetween all that fun there was a very serious component. How serious he had only realized when he´d been on the train, and had seen with his own eyes how fast the landscape rushed by. Dear God, why had he ever allowed Cosette to get on this train? If anything was going to happen … How could Vidocq ever dare to even suggest bringing her along? He knew what they were up against.

"Papa?" she startled him out of his musing, just as they took their seats in their compartment, and for a moment he felt caught red handed.

"What, dear?" he put on his best innocent face. "What is it?"

The young woman gazed from her father to Javert for a moment, exasperated, as if she indeed knew what was going on. God, of course she knew. By now it had to be obvious, even to the most oblivious person. Still she didn´t say it. She only sighed.

"Could you do me a favor and just … stay seated this time?" she asked him. "At least for a while. You´re making me nervous."

Valjean laughed out, almost too much to sound honest. "I´m sorry, Cosette. But I´ve been sitting in the fiacre all the way to Roanne. My old bones need movement. Let me be excited in my old days. This is an event."

"I felt so too." Cosette spoke, halfheartedly. "For the first two track sections … five hours ago. But I have seen the train now. I´m sure this one is not much different from the others."

"Oh, but you can´t know that." Valjean attempted to keep up the deception, and Cosette rolled her eyes, slumping down in her seat. Marius sat beside her, silently watching, wisely staying out of the discussion.

"Why was that last one pulled by horses?" Pascal was the only one who was seriously interested. "Why didn´t it have one of those …" the boy halted, searching the word.

"Locos." Michelle, his sister by fate helped him out, without even looking up from her book. "Short form for locomotive."

Pascal was not the only one who frowned at her, and finally the young redhead looked up, startled about all the gazes that lay on her. "One of the train guards told me. That´s how they call it."

"See?" Valjean instantly took advantage of this spin of the conversation. "It is interesting. How often do we get to discover something like this? A new development like this. The verge of a new age. The modern miracle … of this millennium. Mostly …"

"Seriously?" Javert regarded him, most doubtful and Valjean blushed.

"Too much?"

Javert closed his eyes, patiently. "Way too much."

The old man composed himself, embarrassed. God, he just wished they could be somewhere else. Not on this death trap. Thanks God, no one could see he was shaking.

Cosette only shook her head. "It´s all right." she said. "Go. Do whatever you have to and … take care."

Valjean was sure she knew. Even about the risk, the danger they were all in, should actually happen what they suspected. Of course she knew. She´d been there these last two years, learned to interpret all the gestures and secret conspiring gazes between him and Javert. By now she knew when something was up. But of course he couldn´t just say that. He was too used to keep up the act, and old habits were hard to get rid off.

"Don´t worry." Javert unobtrusively shoved him out of the door. "I´ll keep an eye on him. Like always."

"We´ll be fine." Valjean assured them all, catching one last glimpse of Cosette, who seemed to silently admonish Javert to better keep his word. And then the door was closed, the little unlikely family safely out of earshot. Valjean finally allowed himself to let go.

"Dear God." he exhaled, exhausted. "I´ll be so glad when this journey is over. My legs are going numb from all that walking."

"Is anyone asking me?" Javert replied. "It´s the last track before Lyon. So pull yourself together, old man, and do your part."
Valjean watched him make his way down the hallway, expecting him to take the other direction, and for an instant he couldn´t help but sulk at the remark.

"I´m always doing my part." he mumbled, and caught sight of Javert briefly turning back over his shoulder, smirking unnoticeable. He didn´t give a response.

...

In another part of the train a group of three gathered together. A train guard opened the door for his two accomplices and without anyone seeing or hearing a thing, they vanished inside. This part of the train was not open for public. And that made it perfect for the task they had to accomplish.

Their orders had been clear, and so they would be done. The mail car it would be. If they did it right, it would take the rest of the train with it anyway. And they intended to do it right.

...

Valjean didn´t like to climb over the verge. Every time he had to get from one car to the next, he felt like jumping over a ravine with a raging river deep down in its bowels. He saw the land rush by, only a tiny view, but this limit made it look even more dangerous and insane. He saw the tracks, below, almost no conturs to make out anymore, only this blurred something that only was solid ground because his head remembered.

Oh God, why did he always look? It didn´t make it any better. Why? The space between the two sides wasn´t that wide. Just one step and … don´t trip.

His heart pounded every time. Just don´t think about it. Keep moving. Javert had to be halfway to the locomotive by now.

One of the train guards passed him in the hallway, nodding at him, and Valjean returned the nod.

"Everything quiet back there." he reported, just to have said something at all.

"Here too." the man replied and gosh, he seemed even more tensed than Valjean. Maybe he too didn´t like the climbing exercises.

"Good." Valjean exhaled, not trying to hide his exhaustion. He´d made the experience that it helped to crack the ice. And they were practically working with these men, to keep their train safe. The guard nodded, understandingly.

"I don´t think you need to check again." he mentioned. "This part back here is closed to the public anyway. And I haven´t seen anyone."

"Oh, that is good." Valjean repeated. "Spares me to climb over two more of these." he gestured for the death trap he´d just managed and the guard frowned, only a moment before he understood.

"You need help to get back?" he offered, almost too eager to guide Valjean back this instant.

"No, no, I´m fine." Valjean denied politely. "I … just take a minute to catch my breath, before I go back."

"I could wait … until you´re ready."

"No need to. I don´t want to keep you from your duty. Please, carry on. I´ll be fine."

The young man nodded, not too happy, but he left nonetheless. Valjean leaned against the wall, and watched how the train guard climbed over to the car he´d come from only a minute ago. When the man turned back to him, he put on a polite smile, and at last the man actually vanished through the door.

And right as the door closed Valjean gave up his pose of complete exhaustion and crossed the rest of the hallway. One more interstice separated this last inhabited car from the closed off mail car. The already checked mail car, according to this guard. But something just told him, no, he must see for himself. Never simply believe what people tell you, always check for yourself. And something about this train guard had made his guts grumble.

For a moment he halted. Why had he not considered this before? A part of the train that was closed to the public. It was the perfect place to commit an act like the one they were investigating. Dammit. Javert had to be on the far end of the train by now. Too far to fetch him for backup. And the behavior of this train guard had seemed rushed, even though well hidden.

No. Valjean was sure that if he waited, it could be too late. So he gathered all his strength and strangely the interstice was not so hard to cross this time. In fact, he barely noticed. His focus was on his gun, hidden under his coat, now ready for use, should he truly find what he expected. And indeed, he´d barely reached the door, when muffled voices met his ear. Dammit.

He carefully opened the door, only a creak to hear better. It wasn´t easy over the noise of the rushing train.

" … longer fuse. We´ll need time to get some space between us and that thing. Do you want this to blow up in our own faces?"

"Calm down, I got it."

"I hope you do."

"We´ll be on the train in any case, or do you want to jump out?"

"I just don´t want to be in the very car with that thing."

"I know."

"I´ve calculated the range of the explosion, and if we hold on we can be fine, when the thing derails."

"Would you stop talking and let me do my thing? I need to focus."

Valjean´s heart was pounding but the thought of Cosette and his little family made him act, before he knew what was happening.

"Hold it right there." he demanded, aiming his gun at the two men currently bowed over what appeared to be a package of powder. "Raise your hands where I can see them. And step away from this … thing."

The two men glanced at each other for a moment, as if debating. And for a second Valjean was sure they´d actually surrender and raise their hands as he had demanded. But instead they drew guns of their own, aiming at him, just as he aimed at them.

"Drop it, pal." they demanded, but of course Valjean could not simply comply.

"The whole staff of train guards is looking for you." he informed them. "You have nowhere to go."

"We don´t need to." was the cool response and that was the moment, Valjean heard the steps behind him. And the click of another gun.

...

Javert was on his way back, having checked the locomotive right on schedule. Knowing Valjean, he was sure the old man was probably not finished yet. He also knew the old man would need help getting back over all those interstices, so Javert made his way back, to meet up with him.

God, if this man would be just a bit more the way he´d been when he was younger, Javert would have a more efficient partner. They had separated in the middle of the train, and now he was well on his way through the whole thing, a second time, while Valjean probably hadn´t even managed his own half. There were days when Javert felt like a babysitter.

He checked the compartment, just to make sure Valjean hadn´t rejoined the family after all, but he hadn´t.

"Is everything all right?" Cosette asked, already in the process of getting up, but Javert raised a hand.

"Of course." he said. "Just stay seated."

And that was it. No explanation or reassuring words. It would be too much in any case and would only raise more questions. So he closed the door and walked on, not caring if he´d just irritated them. Valjean was better with this and he could apologize for him later, when they were back. Like he always did.

...

Valjean hit the ground, barely able to catch his own fall with his shoulder. His elbow sent pins and needles up his arm, and his instinctive try to bring his arms before his body was painfully stopped by the ropes these men had hastily wound around his wrists and ankles.

"What do we do now?" he heard one of them ask, nervously.

"Leave him here." the much calmer train guard answered. "When they find him in the remains at least they´ll have a suspect.

"He´ll die."

"You rather want to go to jail? Now come on, light that fuse and let´s get out of here."

Valjean struggled, viciously, to get back to his feet, but a ruthless kick into his guts kept him where he was.

...

It was strange to say the least. He had almost reached the end of the train and still no sign of Valjean. And Javert had been an inspector way too long to not be alarmed by now. Something was wrong. He just knew. Dammit, this idiot had probably managed it again to get himself into trouble without him. He just hoped he wasn´t hurt. If he was, he wouldn´t be able to strangle him when this was over.

The last car that held compartments for travelers seemed eerily abandoned, as if the people knew it was better to stay inside. Maybe it wasn´t even entirely occupied. Javert didn´t care. Right now all he cared about was Valjean. He had to be in the back. And that alone could only mean trouble.

He knew just how much trouble when he reached the door, and found it locked.

"Jean!"

...

Valjean had just about reached the slowly burning fuse with his foot, trying to put it out, when he heard the knock on the door, and Javert´s voice, calling him.

"Antoine!" he answered, and the fuse slipped away from under his foot, happily burning on.

He cursed and tried to catch it again. Stop burning you …

"I´m in here!"

...

"Oh, really?" Javert threw his shoulder against the door, but it was locked safely. No chance to get in there. And god dammit, somehow he knew time was running out.

Against all his instincts and better knowledge he drew his pistol and used the only bullet he had, to shoot the lock. If anyone should have attacked him now, he would have been dead.

Thanks God no one was there. Only Valjean, lying on the floor, tied up like a package, awkwardly trying to stump out a fuse that was almost burned down.

Javert was with him in an instant, and tore off the fuse, before it could blow them both into eternity. On the ground Valjean exclaimed, slacking down at last.

"What happened." Javert began untying him, and his partner sighed, annoyed.

"Do you really have to ask?"

"You´re an idiot. I told you not to do anything without me."

"There was no time."

"Where did they go?"

Valjean grunted, and struggled to his feet.

"How many possibilities are there?" he answered, already heading for the other door, at the end of the car, and Javert followed.

They didn´t come very far. Just outside, they suddenly faced three guns, aiming at them from the other side of the interstice.

"I told you the explosion should have happened by now." one of them said.

"Hands up." the other one demanded, and the two of them obeyed, grudgingly.

"You´re not much better than me, inspector." Valjean mumbled.

And Javert answered him through gritted teeth. "Shut up."

...

It was truly ridiculous and more than just a bit embarrassing. He´d wanted to rub it in, that Valjean had ended up like that, and now he got tied up right along with him. The lack of rope left their feet untied but facing two guns made them sit still while a new fuse got attached to the makeshift bomb. Javert´s thoughts were racing, and not for the best. They needed to do something.

He fiddled, wriggling in his ties, and glared at the men, only so they wouldn´t pay attention to his hands. The knife was well hidden, but usually easy to access. Usually. If he only could … just a bit more … and then at last he had it. Unseen by the criminals, he began to saw on his rope. And then just as the third man was about to light the fuse again, the door Javert had left ajar, got opened, startling them all. And when Javert saw who was standing in that door, his heart skipped a beat.

"Monsieur Javert!" Pascal cried out, taking in this unexpected scene. "What are you doing?"

"Pascal, run!" Javert shouted. "Run, boy!"

But the surprise of finding his two benefactors in such a situation, was too much, even for this quick kid, to react in time. One of the men grabbed him before he could run and dragged him into the car.

Javert, still not done cutting his rope, reacted on instinct when he jumped up and attacked.

He´d made the experience before, that it was not a good idea to lose your head like that, and act emotional, especially in a situation like this. And he was once again reminded why. He managed to throw himself into one of those men, but his attack was fended way too easy, and in the end he didn´t even remember how he ended up on the ground again. All he knew was that he´d lost his knife and that his stomach cramped painfully from the punch he had received.

Valjean dropped to his knees beside him, worry and anger written all over his face. But checking on him was not his only intention. When Javert saw him swipe the knife out of their enemies´ sight to pick it up behind his back, Javert felt so immensely grateful, he almost forgot for a moment, that there was still a boy to protect. Almost.

"Don´t you dare hurting that kid!" he roared at the criminals, and sure enough, the man holding Pascal hesitated.

"He´s right." he addressed his accomplices. "He´s just a kid."

The dirty train guard grunted. "Oh, take him with you then." he decided at last. "Come on now. Or we´ll be in Lyon before we finish this."

Javert did not have to catch Valjean´s gaze. The man was looking at him just then, asking for advice. And Javert gestured, with his head. More it didn´t need, and Valjean understood. Good man.

...

Michelle had not intended to walk that far. A few cars was the most she had planned when she´d followed Pascal, this silly kid, to keep him from getting into trouble. But now that she was already here, this last car had been just a hop. And hearing the voices that she heard now, she suddenly knew it was good she had followed Pascal.

She peeked through the door, just as a man lit a match and held it to a fuse. She saw Javert and Valjean, both on the ground, and two men, holding Pascal halfway out the other door.

"No!" she cried, just as the man with the match jumped up … only to fall right back down when Valjean´s legs wound themselves around his ankles.

"Michelle, run!" Pascal yelled, and with only the slightest feeling of guilt, for leaving them all behind, Michelle obeyed, and ran back where she´d come from, screaming for somebody to come and help. She knew the train guards had to be close.

...

Valjean watched Javert jump up, and throw himself shoulder first into the two men threatening Pascal. His hands were still bound. And that was all Valjean could dare to notice about his friend, before he had to turn his attention to the man currently encircled in his legs. He had a tight enough hold on him, to keep him on the ground.

"You want to blow up along with me?" he asked. "Do you?"

The man glanced at the burning fuse, almost at the powder and finally decided he did not want to die.

Valjean couldn´t recall later on, how he could have worked like that, but his mind had switched to another mode and somehow he managed it to simultaneously hold this criminal in check and cut his ropes with Javert´s knife until his hands were finally free again.

The powder was no threat anymore, the fuse lay far away from it, and one kick to the criminals head was enough to knock him out. But it had taken time, too much obviously, because Valjean heard the screams and he already knew it was too late.

He ran, outside, to help, and saw Javert getting pushed. He saw him stumble, lose halt and fall, through the opening in the handrail. The last thing he saw was his eyes, helplessly searching him, asking him to help and catch him, where he couldn´t hold himself, with his hands still bound behind his back. And then he was gone, just like this.

Before he even had a chance to do anything but stare in shock, Valjean got attacked. He heard Pascal scream Javert´s name but all he could do was struggle, instinctively fighting those hands that tried to push him out as well.

No, his mind was screaming. This couldn´t have happened. Antoine … the train … way too fast … his hands had been bound. This just couldn´t be real. It mustn´t be.

His shock almost made him the second victim of those men, and he soon would have joined Javert, had not suddenly someone aimed a gun at his attackers. He heard several strong commands and only a minute later the three saboteurs were arrested by the train guards.

"Monsieur." Marius´ voice separated from all the others, and woke Valjean from his daze.
He took merely a moment to take in the scene – Pascal, he was shaken but all right – before he rushed to the handrail. But Javert was gone. Nothing he saw did anything to ease his skyrocketing fear.

"We need to stop the train, immediately." he cried, but got only a confused frown in return. "Did you not hear me?"

"Only the driver can stop the train." the train guard responded, still uncertain but Valjean did not stay to explain himself. He needed to save his friend. If he could still be saved.

Of course he can, his heart demanded to be louder than his mind. This is Javert. He´s alive. He doesn´t just die like that. Even though this train is insanely fast, and the slope out there neckbreakingly steep, and his hands were still tied when he fell …

Valjean ran, through the whole train, not caring anymore about all the interstices he had to cross to reach the locomotive. It took too long. Way too long! Eventually he was there, storming in, panting like a mad man.

"Stop." he demanded, making everyone jump. "Stop this train. My friend fell out, we need to look for him. I said stop this train!"

"We´re almost in Lyon, monsieur." someone told him, as two pairs of hands kept him from grabbing the lever himself. "Please. It´ll only be a few more minutes. See?" the man gestured ahead, and indeed Valjean could see the city coming closer rapidly.

"You can call for help there, to look for him." the train driver reasoned with him, and seeing how he would not convince anyone in this locomotive, to stop and turn this whole train around, Valjean finally succumbed, praying in silence, that it wouldn´t cost his friend´s life.

...

It was a torture. The few minutes it took him to assemble a search and rescue team to come with him and find Javert, felt like an eternity. Every second that passed by could make the difference between life and death.

Vidocq had arranged a meeting with the local police for them, but it was more than obvious that the man in charge was not happy to get orders from Valjean. A stranger.

Valjean couldn´t care less. Should he hate him. This was about Antoine´s life. Not even Cosette´s concern about him riding out alone with six police men, could slow him down. He had ordered police for years in Montreuil, he´d be able to handle them now. When Marius offered to come along, he knew he only did it for Cosette´s peace of mind, not out of concern for Antoine. No one seemed to believe they´d find him alive. Except him. After everything this man had done, and for Marius too by the way.

Of course he was alive. He just had to be. He was out there, probably hurt, maybe badly. But he was alive and they´d find him.

Only they didn´t. They just didn´t. And when in the evening a man joined them and called out that inspector Taillon had given order for them to turn back and head home, Valjean almost jumped out of his saddle.

"We can´t leave." he roared. "We haven´t found him yet."

"We won´t find him in the dark." the officer explained, and Valjean wanted to grab and shake him.

"He´ll die if we leave him."

"You can keep searching, monsieur. I won´t stop you, as long as you return the horse in the morning. But …"

"We came here to help you." Valjean shouted. "You owe us."

But his agitation and anger left the officer unimpressed. "We have our orders." he told him. "I´m sorry."

And with that they turned away, to practically leave Javert for death. Valjean couldn´t remember when he´d last been so shocked and yet so angry, ready to kill someone in his rage. How could they? How?

"Maybe they´re right." Marius dared to speak up and flinched under Valjean´s glare. "It is turning dark. We wouldn´t even see him in the dark."

Valjean just turned his horse, away from him. He shouldn´t have expected anything else. This boy was nothing but a waste of time. Why was he here if he didn´t even want to find Javert? He´d keep searching on his own if no one wanted to help.

"Maybe he isn´t even out here anymore." Marius followed. "Don´t you think we would have found him by now? We searched the whole track."

"You can go back." Valjean spoke, eyes straight ahead. "I won´t stop you."

"Please, come with me, monsieur."

"No."

"Javert wouldn´t want you to …"

"You don´t know what Javert would want me to do." Valjean snapped, but this time it didn´t make Marius flinch.

"I believe he´d tell you the same thing. That looking out here in the dark is useless. We should try to find him in the area. There are farms, and little villages. Maybe he found a way to one of those. It´s possible that he already found help. Otherwise we would have found his body out here."

Valjean glowered down on the younger man. This last remark made his heart tighten unexpectedly hurtful. There was no body out here to be found!

So maybe Marius was right after all. God, please, let him be right.

"All right." he turned his horse, ready to search out the next farm right away.

"Tomorrow." Marius stopped him, as gentle as he could. "Please, be reasonable."

"If this would have been one of your friends you´d keep looking too." Valjean replied, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.

"Maybe." the boy´s gaze was too soft for fighting. "But a wise man once told me to learn patience."

Valjean wanted to stay angry, defensive, stubborn. But the gaze he saw now, and the words he´d heard, were simply too honest and too reasonable, it almost shocked him. He knew Marius used his own weapons against him – reminding him to listen to his own advice – but it didn´t help. The young lawyer had gotten through to him, against all odds. And there was nothing he could do.

All right, I´m ready to receive feedback. Don´t be kind. Just be honest.

And thanks for reading.