Path of the Righteous

~Chapter 3~

Content Warning: Injury, flashback to barricades, discussion of Gavroche's spoiler alert.

To stay or to run? Run? Stay?

If I stayed, I was condemned to arrest and what's worse, death.

If I left, this man could die...this inspector who Gavroche called Javert.

But he should die, I would be responsible, his blood on my hands...

When had the fear of punishment stopped me before? Clearly that wasn't what I was feeling...could it be regret? Could I actually be pitying this man?

Perhaps he had a change of heart, a sense of no longer wanting to order the murders of citizens...could that be why he wished to take his own life? Had he been dismissed from his post?

His words haunted me: "As I stare into the void of a world that cannot hold..." Was that not also what I found myself thinking about, since the death of Lamarque?

I had no time to think –Javert's eyes were opening, and he gave a low grumble of pain. Then he coughed, blinked several times, and I backed away, prepared to run, when I heard a soft: "No, God..."

I froze and stared down at the inspector, still clearly in agony. He slowly sat up, and looked around, pressing a hand to his forehead in pain. He must have noticed me out of the corner of his vision, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Still woozy, he commented: "Do you ever wonder what it must be like to be condemned to live in hell?" His vision cleared, and he gazed up sharply at me.

I must have been a sight – covered in battle scars, a torn tailcoat and dirty rosette, tangled hair and frightened eyes.

His eyes widened with recognition. He gave a harsh laugh and leaned forward, unable to stop. I crossed my arms, uncomfortable, wanting to run but unable to leave. The inspector needed help, and he had a story behind him. Curiosity killed the cat. "Please stop," I blurted.

"My, my...how the tables have turned!" Javert said triumphantly. He glared up at me mischievously. "And to whom can I congratulate for saving my life? The savior of my miserable soul? Could it be that pretty boy they begged me not to immediately kill? The one called Enjolras?"

I glared back. "I didn't know it was you! A human life is a human life. We are judges, not assassins. I have said that from the start."

"You expect me to believe that? Does your mother approve of this..." he gestured at my uniform.

"Does yours approve of you murdering children?" I couldn't help but blurting, thinking of Gavroche.

"I DID NOT ORDER THAT COMMAND!" Javert yelled, at the same time that I yelled, "Oh, but you trained the man who did!"

Javert struggled to his feet, shooting daggers at me, but his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground again. He pressed a hand to his head.

I had a flashback to the barricade, when I had used his own baton against him, knocking him out, as Grantaire had said, "No, Enjolras...!"

I had ignored Grantaire's wisdom. I had abandoned him at the barricades. I looked to the inspector again. I could have caused him to have great trauma to the head. I could have caused even more by letting his head fall on the pavement just now.

WWGD? What would Grantaire do? I scowled. Grantaire would have helped this man, taken him for a drink...

I turned to face the inspector. "I apologize," I said, not fully meaning it but bowing my head out of respect. "I cannot know how you are struggling at this moment and I should not have –"

"Oh, so you know about my struggles," huffed Javert, still struggling to get up. I moved over to him.

"Please, let me..."

"NO!" growled Javert. "Go back to your filthy friends."

Think of Grantaire. He needs you...

"No, Enjolras!"

I stiffened. "You are unable to get up, Monsieur Javert."

"So, you recognize me as Javert."

"You could use some assistance. There is no one else here, and you are abandoned. Just as your little marshal told myself and my friends just a short while ago. If you do not accept my help –"

"I DIDN'T ASK FOR HELP!" roared Javert.

I moved to the inspector and roughly grabbed his arm.

"Keep your bloody, filthy hands off of me, traitor!" barked Javert.

"No. YOU listen, or I'll never leave. You need to stand up, and come with me. We must not waste lives."

"Do you think by saving me, you will save your pitiful band of merrymen?"

I took a deep breath. "No. By saving you, I saw you as just another man, struggling with this unbelievable mess of a world. I could relate to you when I could not see you, so now, I give you a chance and do what my friend would have wanted me to do...to show some compassion. Now come."

He rolled his eyes and I grimaced as he leaned his weight on me, but at least he was standing again. "Good," I said briskly. "Let us get you some help for that head injury."

"And where are your medical tools, oh mighty leader of the world?"

"I know a friend..."