A few days later, Javert was once more helping Cosette take care of the patients' supper, and suffering through more of Mère Suzette's outrageous flirting. While the old woman cackled at him and made raunchy comments, he tried to distract himself by staring out the window. Dark clouds were rolling in.

"Looks like a storm," he mused, more to interrupt her incessant teasing than out of any real interest in discussing the weather.

"Oh yes, my deary, that's a good one rolling in. I can feel it in my bones, believe you me! This one'll break ere the half hour's out!" Mère Suzette grinned at him toothlessly. "Can I sit on your lap if I get scared, darling?"

Javert felt his face turn red. He busied himself by stirring her bowl. His thoughts wandered to Marius and Valjean, who were out attending a soirée at M. Gillenormand's house, hoping to raise donations for the hospital from his rich and generous friends. But if the storm broke soon, it would probably be over by the time they had to make their way home.

Mère Suzette painfully raised her trembling hand and patted Javert's arm. "Fine strong man like you…" she cackled, "and still blushes prettily like a schoolgirl."

Javert knew he was growing even redder. The fact that she was clearly undressing him with her eyes did not help. "Would you like some more?" he asked, forcing himself to keep the growl out of his voice.

"Ah… if saying 'yes' means you'll keep spoonfeeding me, I'm ready to eat a horse, lover."

Javert sighed, and gently lifted another spoonful to her mouth. She swallowed, and blew him a kiss, her eyes glittering with mischief. Javert sternly reminded himself that this woman had born twelve children and lost them all to sickness or starvation before they reached their majority, so that now in her old age, torturing him was the only joy left to her. He set his mouth in a firm line and kept feeding her.

xxxxx

Mère Suzette had been right – Javert had barely cleared away her dishes when the storm broke. The sky was pitch black, and booming thunder rolled through the streets. Torrential rain hammered down, and soon even turned into hail. Javert went around the hospital, latching all the shutters and making sure the windows were closed tightly.

On his way back to the kitchen, he noticed Minette slinking along the hallway. She stared up at him with huge yellow eyes that seemed to beg him not to throw her out in this weather. Javert sighed and stopped. "It's all right. This once. We'll just pretend I didn't' see you." The cat seemed to understand and starting rubbing up against his legs.

Suddenly, Javert heard a strangled voice from the kitchen. "M…Monsieur Javert? Help!" He took off running, leaving behind a very confused feline. What had happened? Had some vagabonds forced entry into the hospital to find shelter from the storm? Maybe taken the opportunity to rob them?

As he burst through the kitchen door, he saw Cosette holding on to the counter, looking pale. She was alone.

"Madame? Are you unwell?" Javert approached her quickly.

"I…. I think my water broke." Cosette stated weakly.

Javert looked down and noticed a puddle of glossy liquid at Cosette's feet. "It would appear so." He fought hard to keep the panic out of his voice. This wasn't supposed to happen! Not for two weeks! Not with Marius out! Not with nobody but him… Dear God, what was he supposed to do?

Cosette answered that question, at least for the immediate moment. "I…I think I need to lie down," she whispered, and doubled over with the pain of what Javert supposed had to be a contraction. With a mumbled "Begging your pardon," he swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the closest hospital room – incidentally the same one he had stayed in while recovering from his wound. He set her down on the bed, and took a deep breath. What now?

"Marius… I want Marius…" Cosette said, her teeth clenched with the pain of another contraction.

Javert's mind was racing. Marius and Valjean weren't expected home for hours yet, and in this storm they would definitely not return early. There were no gamins on the streets, no coaches – everyone had found shelter somewhere. So there was no way of getting a message to them, unless he went himself, and in this storm, it could easily take him hours to get there – there was no way he could leave Cosette alone that long. He put on his best reassuring smile. For the first time in his life, he wished he was a better liar. He would have loved to tell her, "Your husband will be here soon," just to take the fear from her eyes, but he knew that he couldn't do it, or at least couldn't do it convincingly. "Excuse me for just one minute, I will go get some –" God, what did one need during a birth? "– supplies," he finished weakly, and hastened to Marius's office. His eyes flew over the books, looking for anything that might be useful. He discounted the Latin volumes – while he could translate it, given enough time and a good dictionary, he was definitely not fast enough to start now. And his English was non-existent, so he couldn't even judge if any of those books were medical. Finally, he found a large volume in French, called "Women's Ailments." Did pregnancy count as an ailment? He started leaving through the book hectically, trying to find out.

What he saw was not encouraging – a long list of possible ways in which pregnancy and childbirth could go wrong, but nothing on how one had to proceed if one wanted it to go smoothly. Impatiently, he slammed the book shut and hurried back to Cosette. She was lying on the bed, her hands wringing the blanket, looking very pale.

"Madame – do you need anything? Maybe some… warm milk?" Warm milk? What the hell for? She's giving birth, you idiot, not trying to fall asleep!

Cosette shook her head. "Please, Monsieur…" She weakly reached out her hand, and he took it. Another contraction hit, and she squeezed. Hard. Painfully hard. Javert bit his tongue to stifle a moan. No matter what anyone said, this was definitely Jean Valjean's daughter. "Please…help…"

Help, yes! Javert felt the strong urge to cry for help himself. He was unequipped to deal with this.

Suddenly, Javert remembered the only possible source of help. He let go of Cosette's hand and mumbled soothingly. "Excuse me just a minute, Madame." He left the room and quickly walked down the corridor. The three dock-workers who had been injured in a loading accident wouldn't be any more useful than he himself, nor would the two little girls recovering from pneumonia in the next room. But that still left… Determinedly, he knocked on the door and entered. "Mère Suzette, I need you."

The old woman looked at him surprised, then she grinned leeringly, "Why, deary, haven't I told you that sooner or later…" She licked her lips.

Javert blushed and swallowed. "No! I mean, not me! Madame la baronne…"

"Madame Cosette?" At once, the old woman's face changed to deep concern. Cosette was considered an angel by all of her patients. "What's wrong?"

"The…the baby's coming… Monsieur le docteur is out… he can't be sent for in this storm…" As if to confirm his words, a particularly loud thunderclap boomed and the winds drove a new wave of hail against the shutters.

Mère Suzette nodded. "Quick, take me to her! I've birthed twelve young ones myself, and stood by friends and neighbors as they went through it – I know what to do." She was completely serious now.

Javert picked up the old woman, complete with the blankets she was wrapped up in, and headed for the door. "It's early! She wasn't supposed to… for two more weeks!" He couldn't keep the slight edge of panic from his voice.

"Ah, that's all right, deary," Mère Suzette patted his cheek reassuringly.

"It is?" Javert was too worried about Cosette to even care about the inappropriate touch.

"Probably. The date they give you – it's always somewhat of a guess. Could easily be a little off. And some babies come a little early and are just fine. Don't you worry."

Javert took a deep breath. The old woman clearly knew what she was talking about. He was beginning to feel a little better.

He entered Cosette's room, and settled Mère Suzette on the chairs by the side of the bed. The old woman smiled at the young one reassuringly. "The big day, eh? Don't you worry, Madame Cosette, Mère Suzette is here. I'll tell the pretty lad here everything he needs to do."

Cosette tried to smile at her, but then gasped as another contraction hit. She looked at Javert, her eyes begging for help.

"Well, deary, first you have to undress her. Just the lower half, mind you." Mère Suzette grinned, and Javert saw a twinkle of mischief back in her eyes.

"Un… undress her? I? But…"

"Well, what did you think? I was going to do it? I'm not strong enough to lift a spoon, remember? I can tell you what needs doing, but you're going to have to be the one to do it." At another gasp from Cosette, she added. "And get her a wooden spoon to bite on."

Javert paled. He wanted to argue that it wasn't proper, that it was inappropriate – but he knew the old woman was right. There was no choice, and the rules applied differently in emergencies. Neither Valjean nor Marius would ever forgive him if he stood by and watched something dreadful happen to Cosette or her child out of his overdeveloped sense of shame. What was more, he would never forgive himself. He steeled himself, trying not to contemplate the fact that for the first time since his own birth, he would be in direct contact with a woman's most private area. He remembered what his old instructor used to say – "If faced with something you don't understand, just follow your orders." Sure, the man had meant orders coming from a slightly more official source than an old hag with an overdeveloped sex drive, but the principle still held true.

He quickly got a wooden spoon from the kitchen and handed it to Cosette, who gave him a grateful look. Then he slowly approached the end of her bed, and found himself confronted with a confusion of articles of clothing he had no inkling how to undo. Setting his jaw firmly, he looked at Mère Suzette, pushed his own feelings far into the back of his mind, and said "Tell me exactly what to do, Madame. I'm at your command."

xxxxx

Javert had no idea how much time had passed. It felt like days, but of course he knew that couldn't be true. His mind was racing with pictures of Cosette's pain-stricken face, blood, Mère Suzette barking instructions, his own hands binding off and cutting the umbilical cord, sheer force of will all that kept him standing… As soon as Cosette had taken her child into her own arms for the first time, and had settled in to feed the baby, he had stumbled out of the room, instructing Mère Suzette to keep an eye on them both and yell if anything was needed. Now he was sitting on the front steps, his head resting in his hands. The storm had cleared up to a slight drizzle, and he welcomed the fresh water running through his hair and over his tired, leaden limbs. He had carefully picked a resting place within easy earshot of Cosette's room, but if Mère Suzette called for him right now, he was not sure he'd have the strength to walk back in there.

Minette was sitting besides him. She had tried to get him to pet her with rubbing and headbutts, but when he remained frozen, not even looking at her, she simply sat down next to him and watched.

A fiacre pulled up to the house. Javert glanced up and saw Marius and Valjean getting out. He stood up slowly, trying to decide what to say to them. As Marius handed the driver a coin, Valjean turned around, noticed him, and stared.

Marius turned around also, and, seeing him, exclaimed "Oh my God, Monsieur, are you hurt?"

Javert looked down at himself and realized he was covered in blood and slime. "No… not me…" Marius was by his side, trying to get a good look at him. Javert tried to pull himself together. His overtired mind focused on what seemed the most relevant bit of information right now. "You have a son."

"What?" both Marius and Valjean exclaimed at the same time.

"A son. Madame la baronne…"

"Cosette! Is my angel all right?" Without even waiting for a reply, Marius stormed inside, Valjean close on his heels.

Javert sunk back onto the steps. He exchanged a glance with Minette, and patted her head. "It's going to be all right now. Her family's here." Minette took the opportunity to climb into his lap. She started sniffing his blood-stained shirt with what Javert considered an inappropriate amount of fascination. Gently, he pushed her off, got up, and walked into the lobby. Monsieur le docteur might have questions he needed to answer. He started towards Cosette's room, then stopped abruptly.

Maybe Marius wanted him nowhere near his wife anymore, considering the inappropriateness of what he'd done earlier. His mind latched on to that thought. Of course not. They would make him leave now. It was only right. How could he stay in the same house with her, sit with her at the dinner table – she would never want to have to look at him again after… He winced at the memory of what he'd seen, what he'd touched. At the time, he had pushed his own feelings from him, but now it was all sinking in. He stood in the lobby, swaying slightly, not knowing what to do.

After a few minutes, Valjean emerged from the corridor that led to the hospital rooms. He was heading straight for Javert, his face awash in a confusion of different emotions. Javert straightened up, readying himself for an emotional father's reaction to his daughter being violated. He fully expected a punch, or at least a lot of yelling.

He was therefore entirely unprepared when Valjean pulled him into a hug, rested his head on his shoulder and whispered "Thank you. So much." He wanted to pull back, to ask Valjean what the hell he was doing, or at least to point out that the blood on him was ruining Valjean's good shirt… Why then was he just standing there, leaning against the man, and drawing… Strength? Comfort? Reassurance? He felt himself starting to tremble and wanted to hide it, but Valjean just drew him closer. "I know how hard this must have been for you. But if you hadn't…"

Yes. If he hadn't. Of course. What he had done had been necessary. He had helped Cosette, maybe even saved both her and the baby. How could he have assumed, even for an instant, that these people would blame him for it? He almost laughed at his own absurdity. Clearly, he wasn't thinking straight.

Valjean released him, but kept his hands on his shoulders. His voice thick with emotion, he asked, "You know you can never leave now, right?"

Javert looked up, startled. "What?"

Valjean's lips curled into a smile. "I'm not saying you're a prisoner. But… well… I don't know how to say this in a way that won't make you bristle, so just deal with it: you are irrevocably a part of this family now, and there's no way any of us would give you up without a fight."

Javert took a step back, and was glad that Valjean released his shoulders without a struggle. "I… that's… No! It's impossible! You know that…" God, there were a hundred reasons why this could never work. He knew there were. Excellent reasons. So why couldn't he think of a single one?

He spotted Marius coming up behind Valjean. He was carrying a small bundle from which a little red fist emerged. The young man was grinning so widely Javert briefly worried his head might split in two.

"Messieurs," Marius began, making a formal bow somewhat encumbered by his need to keep the bundle close to him and safe, "I present to you Georges Jean Pontmercy."

Valjean's face lit up like a Christmas tree as he stared at the little being in wonder. "You…named him for me?"

"Of course. Both our fathers. I hope you don't mind that we put Georges first, it's just that my father…"

Valjean quickly shook his head. "Of course not!" Then, shyly, "May I hold him?"

Without hesitation, Marius handed over his precious charge. Javert caught himself smiling at the scene before him, but became serious at once when Marius turned to him gravely.

"Monsieur Javert… I don't know what to say." He extended his hand, and Javert took it, only to find his hand clasped firmly in both of Marius's and shook with rather more vigor than he thought strictly necessary. "Mère Suzette told me what you did – and Monsieur, I couldn't have done it any better myself. Monsieur Javert… we are forever in your debt. Again. I mean… still…I mean…" Marius stopped for a moment, biting his lips – he had obviously confused himself. Javert took the opportunity to get his hand back.

Marius shook his head and started over. "Monsieur, Cosette and I have spoken, and we would like to ask you to be Georges Jean's godfather."

Just when Javert had thought the day couldn't throw any more surprises at him…

He saw Valjean looking up from cooing at the baby and grinning at him widely. The "What did I tell you?" was written on his face all too plainly.

"I… I don't understand."

"Please, Monsieur… after what you've done today… after everything you've done... We could not possibly wish for anyone better. We would not pressure you, of course, but it would mean the world to us if you'd consent."

Dumbstruck, Javert nodded.

Marius beamed "Oh, splendid! I'll go tell Cosette. She needs to sleep right now, but as soon as she's rested, I'm sure she'll want to thank you herself." He took the baby back from Valjean, who let go of him with visible reluctance, and left.

Javert sank down onto one of the sofas lining the lobby. "What just happened?"

Valjean sat next to him, grinning. "What do you think?"

Javert just shook his head, too overwhelmed to form words.

"So…" Valjean started suddenly. "About paying you…"

"What?" Javert felt completely thrown by the sudden, and ridiculous, change of topic.

"Well, now that you're staying we definitely have to work something out, don't we? Must I remind you that slavery is against the law?"

Javert caught the subtle emphasis on the last word. He shook his head mutely. Valjean was right. After what happened today, there could be no more talk of leaving, no more claiming that he was only here to pay off a debt – and really, had that ever been more than an excuse? He'd incurred the original wound while defending Cosette against a gang of ruffians – had he ever truly believed that her family would accept any payment for taking care of him afterwards?

"You remember the options?" Valjean asked as Javert bent down to absently stroke Minette.

Javert was fully aware that Valjean was using his spent and emotional state to shanghai him into something his pride would normally have forced him to fight tooth and nail. Or was he using his own state to let Valjean push him into something he had secretly wanted all along? Did it matter?

Javert thought back to the conversation in the kitchen that seemed so long ago now. "If I let you pay me wages," he snorted, "You'll only pick some ridiculously high amount that I wouldn't know what to do with."

"So…?" Valjean prompted.

Javert sighed. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

Valjean grinned. "It's for your own good, trust me."

To his own surprise, Javert felt no urge to contradict. He just nodded. "I will take what money I need – and it won't be much – from the kitchen drawer… just like any other member of the family."

Valjean laughed, and threw an arm around his shoulders. Again, Javert surprised himself by leaning towards him, not away. Part of him was terrified of what he had just gotten himself into, but too exhausted to put up a fight. It wouldn't be easy to learn to live like this – it was beyond anything he had ever imagined for his life. He had never expected to be anything but alone, and now here he was, with a close-knit family that included a man and a girl he had hunted for years, a boy who could easily have blamed him for the deaths of all his friends, and a baby he had played midwife for. He did not know how this could ever possibly work out. But for this moment at least, he just wanted to believe Valjean's word that it would.

xxxxx

Javert was sitting on the balcony, looking at the stars. Minette was sitting on his lap, purring softly. He had finally decided that there was no point in forcing her to spend the nights outside.

He still couldn't believe what had happened, what he'd agreed to – and how happy and at the same time terrified it made him. He wanted to think that it would be all right, but he was anxious that he would do… well, he wasn't really sure what, but being entirely unaccustomed to family life, surely there were a million things he might do to inadvertently turn them from him.

The balcony door opposite his own opened and Valjean peered out, smiling at them. "Marius and Cosette are settled in their room with the little one."

Javert nodded. His conversation with Cosette earlier had been short, since she was still very tired. Nevertheless, the gratitude and blind trust in her eyes had been quite overwhelming. She had insisted he should hold the baby, even though he had been petrified he might drop or hurt the tiny being. But once Georges Jean was settled safely in his arms and had grabbed one of his fingers with a tiny fist, Javert realized that not only could he never hurt this little human, he would personally bring hell and all furies down on anyone who tried. This was another reason he wanted to stay, no matter his fears. But it was also another thing he was afraid he might do wrong.

Everything that drew him to this new life also seemed to bring with it a plethora of snares and traps that made him more anxious. He knew that once he accepted, truly accepted this family as his, he would not be able to cope with the pain of losing them, and he felt torn between the joy and hope of one and the fear and devastation of risking the other.

Javert realized that he had been staring off into space for several minutes. Valjean was still standing in the door.

"Is there… anything you need?" Valjean asked, looking at him searchingly.

Javert was about to shake his head, but stopped himself. If he wanted to learn how to live this new life, he'd have to be prepared to change his old ways. Taking a deep breath, and looking down at Minette rather than at Valjean, he shyly asked "Would you… sit with me for a while? I'm still working my way through… everything."

"Yes, of course!" The smile was clearly audible in Valjean's voice. He sat next to Javert and looked out at the stars, ready to give Javert whatever time he needed to start talking.

The End

A/N: Please review – and if you liked it, keep an eye out for the next story in this series, "Whole."