LOVELIES! I know.. .it's been FAH too long! But here is chapter 10! (Not my finest, still expirimenting with Javert...) but what i'd really LOVE are some reviews! They do help the writer's block that much more!

WARNING: Nothing too bad in this chapter, just some swears

Disclaimer: Nope...


Chapter 10: Insanity

Valjean observed from his ever-vigilant post in the Corinth and as he watched silently as the young leader's body sagged with sleep, he knelt to the floor and began his evening prayer.

While sleep blessed the boys at the barricade, Javert maneuvered his way through the darkened Parisian streets with his cart. Every so often, when he came across a working street lamp, he would pause to check his charges, both wrapped gauze and a blanket, curled into each other as if by a sibling instinct, for both were unconscious from their pain when Javert took them from the sight of the only barricade.

As he turned down yet another narrow dismal alley he cursed aloud. How did he ever earn the reputation of the feared inspector if he didn't even know every inch of the city he swore to protect? Hell, he was almost positive he'd been down this alley three times and in the situation he was in, a fourth mistake could not be made. Just as he reached the silver lit pavement of a main road one of his charges awoke.

Blinking in her surroundings she squinted in the darkness, feeling the movement of the earth beneath her, the crude wood cushioning her, and the small body curled into her side.

The third is what prompted her to speak aloud.

"What happened? Where are you taking us?" She demanded, her voice raspy from underuse.

Javert nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the questions.

"Mamseille, I wasn't aware you were up."

"What happened? And how come Enjolras let you go? What did you do? Bring forth cannons to a wooden structure, how brave of you." She spat, but soon regret the action, for she cringed in pain.

Javert knew he deserved her words, but she also deserved an explanation, so instead of honoring her strikes with a comment, he told her what she needed to hear.

"Your brother was shot. I offered to take you both from the barricade and get you to a hospital on my way to talk some sense and force some command on the men who clearly are working on orders that were not my own."

The young woman was stunned into silence in the moments following Javert's harsh reintroduction into reality. In retrospect, Javert figured he should have eased the girl into the fact that her child brother was shot and that the rest of her friends were in danger as well. But Javert was shocked (impressed was the original thought, but he didn't think it was an appropriate thought for the situation.) at the girl's next statement.

"Are you trying to get to the San Michelle hospital?"

"I was trying to get you to the nearest hospital," he winced; he didn't want to admit it. "But I got slightly," hesitation. "Misguided."

If she hadn't been preoccupied about Gavroche and the reemerging pain in her shoulder, he was sure she would have laughed.

"What corner are we at?"

"Uh," He squinted in the dim light to read the street signs ahead. "Plumet and Rue de la Mare."

Silence, then directions.

"Go right on Plumet and once you hit the intersection at Victor go up there until you hit Hugo, then you turn there and San Michel should be on your left."

Javert nodded and continued through the darkened streets as instructed. Swiftly and silently the feared inspector weaved through the pitch streets until the heavenly light of the hospital poured into the otherwise hellish street. Javert actually let out an audible sigh of relief as he wheeled his charges into the emergency entrance.

Several hospital personnel looked up in shock at the man who had literally burst through the doors pushing a wheelbarrow supporting two seemingly injured people.

The senior physician who happened to be at the desk that very instant recognized the intruder to the silence at once.

"Inspector? What on earth has happened?" He demanded, moving around the desk to observe the two still figures in the crate. When he noticed the makeshift bandages wrapped around the young boy's middle and the clammy appearance of the young woman, he snapped his fingers, signaling for a gurney.

" Mabeauf! They were at the barricade, by the Corinth wine shop."

"That student barricade? Protesting the fund shortage? But I thought it was a peaceful protest? What on earth happened?" Dr. Mabeauf gawked, carefully lifting the young boy onto the first available gurney. At first glance the boy appeared to have been shot in the chest and the bandages and probably stitches underneath weren't doing much to staunch the new flow of blood.

"The officers there are working under someone else's orders." Javert growled, lifting Éponine onto the second gurney.

"But you're the commanding officer in all units, who could possibly usurp your command?" Mabeauf questioned, anger seeping his otherwise tranquil tenor as he further examined the young boy's wounds (He was quite impressed at the skill of the original stitcher for both patients, but knew that the boy needed far more care than crude black string to heal his ailing body.).

"I'm not positive, but I believe the president of the university has had enough of this group of student rabble rousers." Javert groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to wake him from this nightmare.

The doctor froze in his examination and nurses crossed themselves. There were no other words on the matter, no one knew how to respond to the Inspector's news that a school master would sentence his students to death.

"Ah, well, open up the ER stat! I need sutures, and a team!" Mabeauf yelled as he began to usher the gurneys into the operating theater. Before he could move the young woman to follow the child, Éponine reached out and clasped onto Javert's sleeve with a force so tight it was if he was her lifeline.

"Save them please." She whispered, new tears springing forth in her dark eyes. "Protect them, take them away from harm. Please Inspector, I know how much shit my family has dragged you through over the years and I wasn't the best person to know either, but please, these boys are all I have left."

Javert was frozen at her pleas, the young woman suddenly bringing forth a painful memory of another young woman, begging for him to not arrest her for she had a child. If he was still that man, a man he was not hours ago, he would have shaken off the injured girl's hand just as he had the young hooker. But something had emerged in Javert's stone heart and with conflicting hands he clasped hers and nodded.

"I will do everything in my power."


Leaving the hospital and finding the barracks where the President of the university was observing his 'troops' was surprisingly easier than finding San Michel hospital in the first place.

Not bothering to wait for clearance, Javert stormed into the office, however the President appeared as though he had been expecting him.

"Inspector, I you have escaped the rebel forces." He asked, not removing his eyes from the letter he was penning.

"Rebel forces?" Javert gawked. "Forces? These students are armed only with powerful word and fierce loyalty to each other and their cause. I doubt a single one knows how to fire, let alone shoot a gun of any sort."

"Are you questioning your orders to protect the people of this city Inspector?" The president fired, finally looking up from his papers.

"Your orders to me to protect the people dissolved when officers, under your command, shot a six year old boy."

"He was collecting ammunition to refuel the rebellion's weaponry."

Javert was nearly ready to throttle the man in front of him.

"He was an child! An infant, doing only what he though his idols needed him to do and men under your command shot his for jest, for target practice!" He was almost yelling now.

"Was? So the men have lessened the threat?" The president asked nonchalantly as if bored with the conversation.

"He's at a hospital now being cared for." Javert growled. "I brought him and his sister there, both shot by these men." He gestured wildly to the officers who had now gathered around the rising argument. It was in this formation of the crowd that Javert noticed the young student tied crudely to a lamp post; The boy's long hair was strewn messily over his face and blood dripped from a deep gash over his eyebrow, a gash that only accented the dark purple bruise that had blossomed over the eye. The poor boy was shaking slightly and coughing every so often and when he looked up to hear the argument, Javert could see the tears tracks that stained the student's face.

"What did he do? This innocent student you tie to a post like a pig for slaughter."

"'E was truspassin on our territory." An officer piped up, smiling at his accomplishment of attacking an unarmed minor.

"They were within their orders Javert," the president now retorted, standing from his makeshift desk and moving to stand in front of Javert, blocking the young student from view.

"I thought it was your way to follow the law to the very end." The president sneered. "And yet, here you are, defending trouble makers who threaten not only the safety of the other students, but the safety of a people and a law you swore to protect. Javert, you are going against an oath you swore to God. Essentially, if you don't back down and let me give the orders to finish this little group once and for all, you are not only going against your country, but your oath with God."

The president had struck a chord. Javert's religion was the most important thing to him and he had sworn an oath to God to protect the people by all means necessary. Would he go against God? Against the law?

But then Éponine's face flashed back into view, reminding him so much of the young mother whom he had ignored all those years ago. The event of her death still wracked guilt in his core for he knew his and Valjean's deathbed side brawl drove the frail woman to her inevitable doom. But he would not fail this girl now, he would not let these students fall. He would keep his promise and though it may kill him, he would go against orders.

"Sir, this has gone far enough, by order of the city of Paris, I arrest you for your violence against students and demand you call off every solider stationed opposite the barricade."

The president was silent for a moment before raising his hand and backhanding the might Inspector Javert so forcefully he fell to the ground.

"Wrong choice Inspector. You have no control over this situation. Someone, tie him next to the rebel prisoner." The president snapped, stepping over the writing man.

Before returning to his desk and addressed the troop, thriving in the way Javert struggled against the two officers who restrained him.

"Gentlemen, tomorrow roll in the canons. This protest is ending and after our attack, no one will ever hear the people sing."


Ok, so not my strongest suit... But look! inner Javerian conflict! PLEASE PLEASE PLESAE leave a comment/review or follow fav, either one makes my day :)

And i promise, Amber will be back soon :)

Until next time lovelies!