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Javert stumbled onto the Pont du Change. His mind whirled from the effects of the previous day and of alcohol. He never drank, but he knew — if he wanted to do what he wanted to do, he needed it to soothe his nerves, enough that he wouldn’t hesitate. Still, years of abstinence made him a poor judge of his limits, and terrible at maintaining his composure. Before he even climbed those steps, he knew he had babbled incoherently in front of Valjean, though the man did not seem to care about it — as long as Javert had let him leave with Marius. And why would he care? Javert’s been nothing but a jailor on his heels his entire life, a guard’s lapse in judgment was always something taken advantage of. Fine! Let Valjean take advantage of him like this! It wasn’t like- it wasn’t like he could give Valjean anything else.
Javert gripped the edge of the parapet, his knuckles turned white with the force. Tears had been running down his face for awhile now — when did it even start? This was a mistake, he was shaking and shivering. He screwed his eyes shut, rubbing one hand roughly over them. He couldn’t stop — he let out a sob — why couldn’t he stop? He didn’t want to come to this, but there was no other way now. Nothing he could do. Trembling, sniffling as his nose filled with snot, he hoisted one leg on the parapet. Right as he was about to lift the other — he never heard the man approach — a man, no, Valjean, had wrapped his arms around Javert’s middle and pulled him back.
“Javert!” His yell seemed to finally reach Javert’s mind.
“Leave me alone! I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago!” Javert twisted, trying to break out of Valjean’s grip. He jammed his left elbow against Valjean while his right hand tried to wrestle Valjean’s fingers open. Valjean lifted his leg so his right foot pressed against the parapet, levering them both away from it.
“No one should be doing it!” A particularly strong shove, and the two were pushed away from the parapet. Valjean had turned so he now faced Javert, catching Javert in a tight embrace as the man tried to dart towards the low wall once more.
“You don’t know! You don’t know! There’s nothing left for me in this godforsaken world!” The embrace was more effective at restraining Javert, though he still thrashed in Valjean’s grip. “You’ve destroyed everything! Do you understand?”
“What are you talking about!?” Valjean gritted his teeth, adjusting his stance. Even though he was stronger, Javert was still slightly taller, and of similar build. If he decided to weaponise his dead weight, it would be a real struggle to keep him in place.
“You’ve ruined me!” Javert shoved a large hand against Valjean’s face, trying to push him off. “I can’t- I can’t arrest you! You forced me to forsake my duty!”
“You still can! I will go with you!” Valjean twisted his neck so Javert’s hand slid off to the side, and felt it grip his shoulder instead. “I always said I would!"
“You saved my life! What sort of man arrests his savior?” Javert tried to push him away at the shoulder, but Valjean refused to budge. He gasped wetly. Finally, Valjean realized Javert was crying. His tears soaked through Valjean’s shirt.
“It’s alright! I won’t stand between you and your duty.”
“You don’t understand! I don’t want to do my duty! I don’t want to send you to die! I don’t want to lose you!”
At that, both Javert and Valjean had stilled. Valjean could not see Javert’s face, but he could hear how the man panted and felt the wet patch on his shoulder grow larger.
Cautiously, he pulled back to see Javert’s face. His eyes were red, tears streaked down his face, his face was flushed down to the neck from the crying and struggle, and his hair was completely disheveled from his queue, the ribbon having fallen to the ground a long time ago. He almost looked completely unrecognizable. He panted unsteadily as he looked back at Valjean. They stood close, but were not touching anymore.
“Javert…”
Unclouded by alcohol, two hands shot out to grasp Valjean’s shoulder and shoved him before he could react. He stopped himself from falling, but he watched in shock as Javert pushed him aside with surprising strength and determination — to climb the parapet once more. Knowing it was now or never, Valjean made a desperate attempt — he burst forward like a coiled string, pushing Javert off his feet and onto the ground. He shielded the back of Javert’s head with his own hand, though he winced when it was crushed between the cobble floor and skull. He moved so his legs pressed against Javert’s, pinning them to the ground, while his other hand pressed his shoulder down.
“Javert!” Javert was not listening, his hands now trying to push at Valjean’s shoulder. Valjean moved to pin his wrists above his head, and leaned more of his body weight against Javert’s. Javert whimpered and bucked against it, but his efforts were growingly futile.
“Javert,” Valjean said once more, though he did not yell this time. He loomed over Javert now; with nowhere else to look, Javert reluctantly met his eyes.
“Just let me die, Valjean.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why? So you can humiliate me even more? Taunt me? Ohh look at the irreproachable police Inspector Javert! A convict batted his eyes at him once and now he can’t even do his job! How pathetic! Decades of loyal service out of the window just like that! He can’t even muster up the strength to just k-“
“Javert!” Valjean said, insistently, not wanting to hear anymore. “You- you had- you didn’t want to lose me?”
“Yes, is that what you wanted to hear? Make me admit it? Rub it in my face?”
“No, stop. Javert, I- I had no idea.”
Javert snorted at that. “Seriously? Half of M-sur-M was calling me a f—— behind my back.”
“I- I don’t pay attention to gossip.”
“Sure you don’t.” Javert tipped his head back with a sigh. “God, you had no idea— those years were hell, before and after.”
“Javert.” Valjean interrupted before Javert could ramble more.
“What do you want?”
“If I let you up, can you promise me not to try to… do anything irresponsible?”
“Why would I promise you that?”
“I- I don’t want to lose you.”
Javert seemed to have almost sobered up at those words. Without further protests or remarks, he nodded slowly. Valjean did let him up, though he was still cautious and he watched Javert’s movements closely.
“Now what?” Javert asked, a weary tone in his voice. He wiped at his eyes and nose, frowning when he saw the mess on his hand.
Valjean thought for a few moments. He wanted to talk to Javert, but he was far too tired for the conversation that he knew must take place, but neither did he want to leave Javert alone for the rest of the night…
“I know you do not- There’s no need to placate me like that.”
“Javert, please.” Javert did meet his eyes, albeit hesitantly. What an unusual sight. “Would you come with me?”
“What?”
“To my home at Rue Plummet. I believe it’s been a long night, I have a guest room… and we can talk in the morning.”
“Talk.” Javert mulled over the word, as though there was more he wanted to say, but decided against it. He looked at Valjean again to gauge his sincerity. “Alright then.”
Valjean led the way, though he did keep his hand on Javert’s wrist until they had walked off the bridge. Javert made an amount of comments and remarks about it, but he did not resist. For the rest of the way, the only indication Javert still followed him was his slow and unsteady footsteps. Even so, Valjean resisted the urge to turn around and check if Javert still followed, as though he would turn into salt if Valjean did.
It was not until Javert had closed the door to the guest room that Valjean finally let himself breathe a sigh of relief.
———
Valjean did not sleep well that night. At every minor sound, he jolted upwards, worried that Javert had changed his mind and decided to go back to the river. Fortunately, every time he checked, Javert was still there, snoring in the guest bed. Valjean had blushed, as though it was something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing — Javert, so human. After the fifth time, he had closed the guest room door gently, and slept until the sun rose.
Despite the bone-tiredness from the previous day causing him to wake up later than usual, when he had risen, Javert was still in the guest room. As quietly as possible, Valjean made breakfast and tea for the both of them. It was nothing extravagant, just some bread and cheese; a part of him wondered if Javert would like something so plain. When that was done, Valjean opened a book to read for a moment. After about half an hour, he began to hear groaning from the guest room.
Knocking softly, he then opened the door by a crack.
“Javert?”
A groan. Javert’s head was not visible anymore, he used a pillow to press his head towards the mattress.
“Are you alright? Do you feel ill?”
“I’m fine, Valjean.” Javert’s voice was pained, which did not assure him at all. “It’s just a hangover.”
“Oh.”
“You didn’t know I was drunk?”
“I- Can I get you some tea?”
“Yes, fine.” Javert did not dwell on that blatant deflection, to Valjean’s relief.
Quickly and quietly, Valjean returned to the kitchen to pour Javert some warm tea. When he returned, he walked around the bed so he could close the curtains. He then handed Javert the cup of tea. Their fingers touched when Javert reached out, but Valjean tried not to react.
Javert sat up, rubbing his temple with his other hand while he drank. His throat worked like a man perched, even though the tea must be burning his tongue. Then, he set the cup down on the bedside table.
“Thank you,” He said, looking at his hands.
His hair was greasy, stubble was growing besides his beard, and his eyes were still red. Valjean looked at the creased, yellowed shirt that Javert had slept in. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten what he should be doing.
“I’ll wait for you outside.”
Then, instinctively, he placed his hand over Javert’s shoulder. Javert had stiffened and turned to look at him, but he didn’t say anything, merely looked at Valjean’s face and back at his shoulder. Valjean fled from the room, leaving Javert to get dressed.
Javert soon joined him in the kitchen. He still looked a bit disheveled, for he didn’t shave, and there was no comb to brush his hair or a ribbon to tie his hair with. But he looked better, somewhat. For a moment, he merely sat there.
“Would you like to join me for breakfast?”
“What?” He said, as if brought out of some trance. “Right. Break bread.” With a convict.
They ate in silence. Valjean tried to focus on the texture of the bread and cheese. When that was over, Valjean cautiously looked at Javert.
“Well?”
“Well.”
“You said you wanted to talk.”
“I did. Didn’t I?” Valjean rubbed his neck. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“Well then.” Javert slouched, leaning his chin on one hand. He was looking at the empty plate in front of him. “Why did you stop me?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Somehow, Javert had reminded him of a grape vine stripped from its trellis.
“It would have been better if I just died.” Javert said, factually. “You wouldn’t have to worry about me arresting you, I wouldn’t have to make an impossible choice. You would be free, and my shame would have died with me.”
Valjean was quiet for a moment.
“Do you remember,” He started. “My second escape attempt?”
Javert nodded.
“It was winter, and there was a massive snowstorm. I was lost and alone. After a while, I had no energy left, I was too cold and hungry. I just wanted to lie down, and get it over with. It felt like the easiest thing to do.” Valjean said, his voice low. “I closed my eyes, and took one last breath, asking God for deliverance. And then you found me.
“I remember being so angry and disappointed. That you were there to drag me back to the life I so wanted to escape from. But I later did realise, if I had died that day, I would not have lived to see my parole, lived to be given a second chance, or lived to be able to have a family again.” Javert was looking at him now, eyes wide. “Sometimes, it is still difficult for me to believe that it’s real, or that I deserved any of it. Perhaps I don’t, but at least I had the chance to experience it.
“But I believe it, Javert, that God made me intervene for a reason. Just as He made you intervene, all those years ago.”
Javert looked unconvinced, but a part of him remained pensive. “I see.”
“What will you do now?”
“I don’t know,” Javert replied. “I resigned. Formally.”
“Oh.”
“Even if I hadn’t, I can’t imagine myself going back.”
“Where will you be living?”
“I will manage. I have some savings.” Javert replied, curtly to the unspoken probe about his personal life and finances. Still, on a policeman’s — non-bribetaking policeman’s — salary, it would not amount to much.
“Is it odd to say that I worry about you?”
“You’ve established an- unexpected concern for my wellbeing already.” Valjean wondered what Javert had wanted to say before deciding on “unexpected”. Unwanted? Unbelievable? Illogical? “I’m not going to- go back, if that’s what you meant to ask.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
“I think I should take my leave.” Javert said. “I’ve stayed for too long.”
“Wait, Javert-“ Javert was halfway standing up from his chair. He looked at Valjean.
“My door is always open for you.”
“I- I know.” A bittersweet smile on Javert’s face.
Javert straightened his shirt, put on his coat, and then he was gone once more.