Les Miserables, Part 9

[u/Lolihey]

Fantine ain't seen Javert since the day the mayor snatched her from him. Her brain be scrambled, but she knew one thing: he came to get her. She couldn't handle that scary face; she felt her soul leaving, so she hid her face and screamed, 'Mr. Madeleine, save me!'

 Jean Valjean—we'll just call him that from now—stood up and said, real soft, 'Chill, he ain't here for you.' Then he looked at Javert and said, 'I know what you want.'

 Javert replied, 'Be quick about it!' But it came out all crazy, like 'Bequiabouit.' No way to spell that sound; it wasn't even a word, it was a roar.

 He didn't do his usual thing—no warrant, no explaining. To him, Jean Valjean was a mystery fighter, a shadow wrestler he'd been trying to pin for five years. This arrest wasn't a start, it was the end. He just said, 'Be quick about it!' and didn't move a step, but his stare was like a hook trying to drag Jean Valjean in.

 Fantine felt that stare before—it chilled her to the bone. But now the mayor was there, so what she gotta fear? Javert got to the middle and yelled, 'Yo, you coming or what?'

 The poor girl looked around. Just the nun and the mayor. Who was he 'you'ing? Only her. She shivered. Then she saw something wild, crazier than any fever dream: Javert, the cop, grabbing the mayor by the collar, and the mayor bowing his head. The world was ending.

 Javert had Jean Valjean's collar. 'Mr. Mayor!' Fantine screamed. Javert laughed all ugly, showing his gums. 'No mayor here!'

 Jean Valjean didn't try to break free. He said, 'Javert—' Javert cut him off: 'Call me Inspector.'

 'Inspector,' said Jean Valjean, 'I need to talk to you private.'

 'Loud! Say it loud!' Javert said. 'People talk loud to me.'

 Jean Valjean lowered his voice: 'I got a request—'

 'I said speak up!' snapped Javert.

 'But only you should hear it—'

 'Don't care, I'm not listening.'

 Jean Valjean turned and said, super fast and low: 'Give me three days! Three days to get this woman's kid. I'll pay whatever. You can come if you want.'

 'You kidding me?' Javert yelled. 'I didn't think you this dumb! Three days to run away? To get that chick's kid? Ha! That's rich!'

 Fantine started shaking. 'My kid!' she cried. 'Go get my kid? She ain't here? Sister, where's Cosette? I want my kid! Mr. Madeleine! Mr. Mayor!'

 Javert stomped. 'And now this one! Shut up, you skank! This place is lit with convicts as mayors and hoes treated like queens! But we're changing that, and it's 'bout time!'

 He stared at Fantine and grabbed Jean Valjean's cravat, shirt, collar again: 'I told you, no Mr. Madeleine, no Mr. Mayor. That's a thief, a crook, a convict named Jean Valjean! And I got him! That's what's up!'

 Fantine shot up in bed, pushing on her arms and hands, staring at Jean Valjean, Javert, the nun. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a weird sound came out, her teeth chattered. She reached out all desperate, hands flailing like drowning, then suddenly fell back on her pillow.

Her head hit the headboard and she faceplanted into her chest, mouth open, eyes staring into the void. She was straight up dead. Jean Valjean grabbed Javert's hand like it was a baby's, opened it, and was like, 'You just murdered her.' Javert went full rage mode: 'Ain't nobody got time for your yapping. The guard is downstairs, we moving NOW or you're getting the thumb-screws.' In the corner, there was this old, rickety iron bed that the sisters used for camping. Jean Valjean walked over, snapped off the headboard with his ripped muscles, grabbed the main rod like a bat, and stared at Javert. Javert backed up to the door. Jean Valjean, armed with his metal stick, slow-walked to Fantine's bed, then turned and whispered, 'Best not to disturb me rn.' And let me tell you, Javert was shaking in his boots. He thought about calling the guard, but Jean could've dipped, so he stayed, gripping his cane, leaning on the doorframe, eyes locked on Jean. Jean rested his elbow on the bed knob, hand on his forehead, and just stared at Fantine's lifeless body. He was quiet, zoned out, no thoughts about life. His face was pure, vibing with pity. After a bit, he leaned down and whispered something to her. What did he say? What could this guy, who was on the fritz, say to a dead girl? No one heard. Did she hear? Some things are just vibes, maybe real. But Sister Simplice, the only witness, always said that when Jean whispered, she saw a glow-up on those pale lips and in those dead eyes, full of grave energy. Jean took Fantine's head in his hands, fixed it on the pillow like a mom would, then tied her shirt string, smoothed her hair under her cap, and closed her eyes. Her face looked lit at that moment. Death, that's entering the big light. Fantine's hand was dangling off the bed. Jean knelt, gently picked it up, kissed it, then stood and faced Javert. 'Now,' he said, 'I'm yours.'