It was nice.

It sifted between my fingers, seemingly fluid in its movements.

It was warm, having spent the better part of the early afternoon baking beneath the sun.

We had intended to go straight to Jean's sister's house but the allure of the sea had won through. One glance at the sparkling blue waters and our entire party was hooked, feeling the wind off of the sea tugging at our hair.

The girls were playing in the sea, dresses soaked and heavy as they squealed and splashed, hair messily plastered to their foreheads. Jean had gone to sit on the sand, to drink in the luxury of being able to sit, free, without someone barking at you to get back to work. To relax, and breathe.

He was likely thinking that this would be his last chance to enjoy such a moment.

There was a lot I had gotten wrong. But this at least I would make right – I could try and make amends.

Jean gave me a sideways glance, and tapped the ground next to him. And, against my better judgement, I joined him.

So here I sat. Letting the sand fall between my fingers, baffled that I had spent a whole lifetime and never experienced anything like this.

Wasted, every minute of it. Chasing an impossible standard and ruining the lives of good people along the way. I felt a deep sigh burst past my lips and let my eyes fall shut.

"Looks like you're doing an awful lot of heavy thinking there," Jean's voice came from my side. I acknowledged his comment with a soft rumble in my throat, wanting to hide away in the bright darkness behind my eyelids a little longer. To leave the world to its own devices and pretend that my choices hadn't had an affect on other people.

Hadn't resulted in leaving a young man alone in an alleyway to bleed out, just for doing his job.

I was a bad person.

Jean's shoulder nudged mine and I couldn't stop myself from finally looking at him. He raised a brow, "You okay?"

I kept looking a moment too long, before drawing my gaze back to the sea, "Just tired."

"You know I don't believe you, right?"

"What does it matter what you believe?" I felt myself snap at him, wanting to be left alone to my own thoughts.

Jean got the hint and let the conversation die between us. Thank god, forcing myself to even keep breathing was hard enough, let alone-

"You can tell me, you know? If something happened. If you want to talk…?" Jean his words trail off, clearly feeling sheepish.

I couldn't take this.

I stood abruptly, my shadow blocking the light from Jean's face. "We're not friends," I told him firmly. "We have an arrangement: when it's over, we never have to see each other again."

For some reason, seeing his face cloud over with indifference hurt me. The joking times we have had along the way quickly being packed away and his face going slack as the emotion was forcibly removed.

"Understood," He said, the word clipped short.

"We better get the girls," I said, swiping at grains of sand that stuck to my trousers. "Sooner we get to your sister's, the sooner this is over."

"Should I be ready to leave tonight then?"

My gaze settled on the girls, still smiling and laughing. "Tomorrow, I think."

Jean grunts in response, and at that I make my way back to the horses.

Jean asked me if I wanted to meet his sister out of politeness, his voice devoid of all emotion. I declined just as politely, expressing my desire for a room to myself in one of the town inns – some peace after this whole ordeal.

He didn't argue, simply asked, "You trust me to still be here in the morning without your watchful gaze?"

And, surprised, I found myself saying with complete conviction, "I do."

That took him back for a moment, eyes growing comically wide before he could rein in his reaction.

I turned from him, waving over my shoulder as I walked away. "Look after the girls," I called over my shoulder with a wry smirk to myself. "And stay out of trouble."

They didn't know, but in Misty's saddlebags was all of my remaining money with a note that simple said, "For caring for the girls." Eponine and Cosette, they had been small epiphanies that I never could have thought of experiencing. And what Jean had done for them, what I had found myself doing for them, helped to alleviate some of my guilt. Whilst I had done a despicable thing that I deserved to burn for, at least they were safe. At least they were unharmed, and they were somewhat happy.

They adored Jean. And Jean adored them. After the hell I had put him through, this was all the apology I could muster – something to try and put things right. Funny that after all these years being so blind, all it took was two little girls and a handful of days to see the errors of my ways.

And, of course, the spilt blood of an innocent.

I wandered the streets aimlessly, watching this seaside town as late afternoon turned into early evening turned into dusk until, finally, darkness. The wind was picking up, bringing with it the crisp sea air, whipping any clouds towards the horizon and keeping the sky clear for the stars. At one point, the air beginning to chill my bones, I stopped and simply looked up. I don't think that I have ever given the night sky the recognition it deserves, feeling small beneath a million shining lights of the heavens.

How many souls watched my steps this evening – how many had watched my path through life with disdain, how many cursed my name as I ruined their family member's lives. How many souls where there simply because I was arrogant enough to believe I was doing the right thing.

When the evening drew in and time passed, I didn't know what I hoped to achieve. My eyes grazed over the streets around me, searching for some sort of sign, something that would draw me in.

It was I finally drew my eyes away from the sky that I saw the bridge.

And in that moment, I knew what I needed to do.

Despite my numb mind, the swirling fog of guilt that descended on me, I found my thoughts drifting to Valjean. This man, this devil, who had affected me so. Who had outsmarted me how many times in his attempt to do something good, who had made a deal to come with me willingly as long as his charges were safe. How many times did I let my guard down around him, give him ample opportunity to slit my throat and be done with me? And yet he chose to let me go free?

He could have sought his hard earned vengeance.

Instead, he gave me back my life.

I leaned over the bridge's edge, watching the ferocious swirling waters below. They called to me, beckoned me, their inky depths whispering 'this is what you deserve'.

I can't argue with them.

I can't…

I can't live indebted to Valjean like this – where I took everything from him, and still he managed to give me so much. I am the Law, and I have made a mockery of myself. I have caused pain and anguish where all I once wanted to do was help people.

To go on I would need to let myself revert back to my old ways, to finally draw this chase to a close. To continue to live in this world, I would need to give up Jean and what I had learned during my time with him.

It's him, or me.

And my mind still echoes the fact that I am a killer.

That young officer now holds dominion over me, that desperate look in his eyes bored into my memories. I took his life as if it was nothing, all for my own cowardly freedom.

No, I try to remind myself. For Eponine. While I have done something terrible, I at least had a well meaning motive behind it.

I should have perished by his hand. It was his right.

It was my right – my duty – to die as well.

But now the dark waters are drawing me down, calling to me from the realm below, because they know where I belong. For while I still breathe, while my heart still beats, it is all for nought – I am already in hell. My fate is already decided, and I cannot bear my lungs to be full of breath one second longer.

For as my thoughts fly apart, they scream.

My sins shall not be forgiven.

My crimes shall not be reprieved.

Doubt swirls and clenches in my gut, tearing me down from the inside out until I am a vacant, empty shell of sin. Before I can consider thought I am stepping up, balancing precariously on the edge, close enough that my toes hang over into empty space. The wind pushes and pulls at me, seeming in a hurry for me to take my final step out into the void.

Once more, I let my eyes experience the grace of the shining heavens. Without thinking I outstretch my hand, enraptured by the childish thought to take a star into my hand and claim it as my own, its light a protection against the devils of the world.

But their light no longer seems warm to me. As I stand on the edge, I feel the judgement of the heavens weigh heavy across my shoulders. That protective light turns cold, a spotlight illuminating the guilty. The void swirls below, and the stars tell me that I am only deserving of darkness now.

There is nowhere I can turn where they can't find me, remind me of what I've done.

This is the world of Jean Valjean: a world where people help each other, no matter the cost.

And there is no way for me to continue being here anymore…

My foot lifts from the stone and hovers out over empty space…

I am trapped beneath the glaring light of the heavens, and I shut my eyes…

I wish Cosette and Eponine the best lives…

"Have you fallen so far – is the hour so late – that you can see nothing but the cries of your hate?" A calm, infuriatingly familiar voice says from below me, and in my fright I bring my foot back down to solid ground. I glance down to find Jean by my side, arms crossed atop where I stand, his gaze drawn down to the thrashing darkness below.

"After all this, you think no one will hear your cries in the dark?"

My breath hitches in my chest and I can think of nothing to say to this man as I stare down at his greying head.

"If there was another way to go-" His voice is soft. It should be difficult to hear over the whistling winds, yet it cuts right through and I can hear him perfectly, "I missed it twenty long, long years ago. My life was a war that could never be won. They murdered me, who I was, replaced him with five numbers and filed me away.

"I was worthless: in all my life I had tried to do one good thing, and even that landed me in jail. I was composed entirely of hate and loathing, of spite and anger and I let it consume me for many years.

"But then…I met a man, who forced me to view things differently. Despite myself, I allowed him to touch my soul and let love in. Regardless of what I had done in the past, who I had been, the choices I had made – none of it meant anything to him. He treated me as any other – he gave me his trust. He claimed my life for God above, and for such a long time that confused me. Because why-" At this Jean's gaze snaps to mine and transfixes me, the emotion burning in their depths chasing the numbing feeling from my chest. "Why would God want a useless soul like mine? The soul of a screw-up and a thief, who was ready to take from the world everything it had taken from him, no matter the cost. A man with a heart of stone – what good is that to Him?

"And then one day, it hit me," He said, eyes misting over as he relived it. "I had traded my bag of stolen trinkets, ready to start a new life, and I saw them: a tired, bedraggled woman on the streets in dirty rags, clinging desperately to a screaming infant. And they reminded me so much of my sister, of that time where I wanted to do anything to help.

"Like I was under a spell, I approached her and thrust coins into her hand, no idea how much I was giving away, just asking her over and over if it was going to be enough to make a difference, enough to help them. These coins that I had hungrily sought for years were now meaningless to me – what could I possibly do with all of them? But here, I could make a difference to two lives.

"And I finally understood. Good, bad – the choices you made in the past don't matter now. What matters is what you do with yourself, your intentions in life – how do you come back from awful things you've done? How do you right your wrongs?

"Life isn't about making one terrible decision and then it all being over. We get to change as people, we get to grow and improve ourselves, learn from our mistakes. We get to spend the time doing our best to make the world better and undo our wrong-doing.

"If you choose to just quit, then God can only judge you for the bad choices you made.

"Things aren't so cut and dry." Jean's gaze is imploring, searching out a spark in mine, and I feel tear tracks chilling on my cheeks. "Life is grey and messy – there's no separating it out into black and white.

"One word from that kind man and I would be back to being nothing more than five numbers, screaming beneath endless lashes. One word, and that woman and her child might have died.

"These past weeks, one word from you and I would be back upon the rack. Who knows what would have happened to Eponine and Cosette?

"Back then, when I didn't know why I deserved kindness or forgiveness, shame twisted like a knife edge inside me, bleeding the colour of the world and taking the life from me. Because what was the point? With the night, the endless darkness, closing in, why try? Why be me? Why exist? Why not just throw yourself into the void and embrace the blackness, let yourself ebb away into nothingness and be remembered for nothing but your negative impact on this world?"

Jean's expression was furious, glaring up at me and slashing my thought process to ribbons.

"There is no such thing as a good or bad person," He growled, ensuring that his words were getting through. "There are good intentions, and there are bad intentions. There are good choices, and bad ones.

"There are bad mistakes, yes – but there are good ones too.

"A good mistake lead you to Cosette and Eponine – will you stand there and tell me that there's no possible silver lining here?"

Jean paused, seemingly content to give me a moment to compose some argument against him.

My tongue was thick and heavy in my head, struggling to bend to produce words. They came out as a whisper, but Jean caught each one. "That was you – I didn't do anything."

In the blink of an eye Jean was up on the ledge with me, grabbing at my shirt and bringing my face close to his. "I left Cosette behind! Without you, she would still be living in that hell!"

My voice stuttered, his sharp features filling my whole vision. "I-I- I hunted you for years. I destroyed your life!"

"I destroyed my own life with misguided choices! You were only following what you thought was right!"

Something rose in my chest, the knowledge that I had been trying to bury down and keep from ever speaking aloud, every admitting to anyone other than myself. But in my bid to convince Jean that I was a lost caught I found myself, eyes clenched tightly shut, shouting, "I'VE KILLED A MAN!"

The resounding silence was deafening, those whispering voices below speechless. And as I heard the words echo away from me I felt my composure crack. My hand came to my mouth and I couldn't contain my sob as I struggled with myself to face this fact. "Protecting Eponine - I shot him! In cold blood. He was just a boy, he didn't know what he was doing! He was scared, he was naïve, and I killed him for that! I murdered an innocent man and nothing I do will ever make up for that, no matter how long I live I have done a despicable, despicable thing and how on God's green Earth am I supposed to be okay with that?"

I gasped for breath, my words finally dying out. Exhaustion overcame me and I fell forward, my face hidden in Jean's chest. Christ, the man was tall.

To my surprise I felt arms encircle me and hold me in an embrace. "You don't have to be okay with it," He said softly, his words barely a murmur. "I'm not disagreeing with you. But giving up, all you will have succeeded in doing is leaving a negative impact behind. You really feel bad about it? Repent! If you've taken something from the world, do your damnedest to give it back! You might not manage to do it, but the least you can do is try!"

Any other argument, anything else I could say, becomes redundant. Because he's right – I hate to admit it after all of this, but he is. Doing something terrible and then refusing to face what you've done doesn't make the terrible thing go away, it just keeps building up.

Until you do something about it.

I feel my shaking hand bunch in his shirt and draw away from his embrace. His arms leave me gently, searching my face for my decision.

It's scary: at this crossroads my journey differs based on a single step. Into the nothingness of the void, or into the judging light of the day. Here is a decision that my life's path hinges on, and I meet his eye with a look of determination like nothing I have ever felt before.

"Where do we start?"

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That's it guys - it's the end.

I am sorry it took so long.

I started this fanfic - my first fanfic - almost 5 years ago. I started it when I felt pretty lost in life, and since then I have watched myself fall apart and lose interest in everything around me.

Now though, I've started putting the pieces of myself back together. I'm trying to get back everything about myself that I thought I had lost. I am nowhere near 100% yet, but I am at least on my way.

This fanfic was going on in the background of a lot of bad stuff. But now I want to put that period firmly in the past: learn from it and move on. And this story deserves an ending after all this time.

I am sorry if it seemed rushed. I just managed to feel inspired one night and needed to bang this out. Hopefully its not too disappointing. And if anyone out there was actually waiting for this to update, I'm sorry it took so long.

This will be marked as the first writing project I've done that I have actually finished. And damn it, it certainly won't be the last.