Chapter 7: The Only Way

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Trigger Warning: Talk of battle wounds, injuries...please read at your own risk.

I woke up, frantic.  

The sun was beginning to set.  I must have passed out from stress, and from the effort of moving Javert.

Javert...he was safe.

He was asleep, lying in the middle of the bridge which crossed the river Seine.  The bridge was abandoned, which was unusual, but given the circumstances, people were staying hidden away inside their homes.

I climbed up and sat on the ledge of the bridge, feet hanging over the edge, looking out across the city of Paris. A cloud of smoke seemed to hover above the Corinthe. I shuddered. The barricades, no doubt, had fallen. 

I heard a quiet movement behind me. Javert was awake. I quickly turned around to face him. He was obviously in a daze. He rubbed his head, and looked sleepily up at me.  His eyes no longer had a hawkish tint to them. Instead, they just looked...tired. And sad.

            "Sir," I said

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"Sir," I said.

"Gir - Avenir," he said, calling me by my nickname - no, my true name - for the first time.

"Sir," I repeated, "you need to rest, in a bed, and you need to promise me you will stay there, and not do anything rash. Can you at least promise me that?"

"I will."

"Thank you.  I don't know if any of us can get home right now..."

"Why?"

"Sir, this morning? The barricades fell..." The word caught in my throat.

"Oh..."

We slowly made our way, past abandoned barricades, to the church.  One of the nuns let us in as we knocked on the door.  I quietly pulled her aside, and explained the situation.

"Of course, you can stay..." she said.  

"I must go," I said.  "I cannot stay, I have business to attend to."

"Then we will watch over him and make sure he stays safe.  When you return, please inquire for Sister Simplice."

"

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