Fantine always knew that Cosette was her little angel. Her eyes always sparkled with some sort curiosity, her smile brightened every day, her laughter filled up every room. She truly was Fantine’s pride and joy. Fantine would never let her little angel go, always keeping her close, singing soft lullabies and stroking her hair. She loved her little angel more than anything. Her little smile, her little hands, the little songs she would sing. They always brought a smile to Fantine’s lips. Sometimes they would be cold or hungry, but they would always make it through. Cosette’s angelic voice would give Fantine something to work harder for. She would do anything for her little girl. Yes, times grew tough. Winters grew cold, but they always had each other. They had each other when they had no one else. When Cosette’s father abandoned them before even getting to lay eyes on his beautiful daughter, Fantine still had her darling little girl. When Fantine was tossed out of her job with nothing to show for her years of hard work and dedication, she still had her little girl by her side. When Fantine had to resort to other ways of making money, she did it all for Cosette. She had Cosette when she had nothing. When they were on the streets, freezing and alone, Fantine could wrap her arms around her daughter and tell her that everything would be alright soon. When Fantine went to the hospital, Cosette was immediately brought to her bedside. Fantine got to hold her daughter while she recovered and once she was released, they were given a home. Fantine knew that everywhere she was with her daughter was her home.
Jean Valjean came into Cosette’s life when she was no more than eight years old. He had found her mother on the streets, cold, and shaking. He had quickly brought the woman to a hospital, paying for all of her medical expenses. The woman went on and on about her daughter, begging to see her. Valjean had immediately went in search of the girl, willing to do anything to ease this woman’s suffering. He found the girl on her own and quickly brought her to her mother. He was entertained by the child’s sweetness and gentleness. She trusted him so easily, smiled so kindly. Valjean had never had children, nor had he ever thought about having children, but this one little girl seemed to change everything. She was everything he could ever want in a child. She was absolutely brilliant in every way. She laughed at his stupid jokes, held his hand, smiled up at him like he was the most amazing person in the world. He found himself becoming attached to the child as he stayed with her, letting her and her mother live with him. That wasn’t to say that the child could be anything without her mother. Fantine had an air of kindness that surrounded her, the sweetness and softness that Valjean found himself drawn to. He danced with her one night, spending the night laughing with her and spending time with her. She was a truly beautiful woman and Valjean found himself falling more in love with her each day. They were married in the spring, it was a rather small affair, not too many people attending, but they didn’t need a lot of people. They just needed their family. Cosette looked up at them so happily and excited. She hugged them both after the ceremony, their little family made almost complete. Valjean had kissed the top of Cosette’s head, his new daughter, his adorable angel.
Javert never had any interest in children. He never wanted them, never even entertained the idea of having any. He was married to the law and the law alone. He had no time to distract himself with children. He wouldn’t even allow himself to fall in love. He never felt any attraction towards anyone anyway, he had no reason to fall in love. Most people wouldn’t want him anyway, he reasoned. He was nothing more than a police officer pretending to be something he wasn’t. His skin was too dark, the scars on his chest were too noticeable, he was too intense. His suicidal thoughts were driving him mad, as were his obsessions. He wasn’t normal, not in the least. He couldn’t imagine anyone liking him, the only children he interacted with were the children who sold drugs on street corners or attacked people. They did not like him at all. He was too authoritative, too stubborn, too terrifying for children to handle. He wasn’t interested in children anyway, they were spoiled, whining, annoying brats. He had no interest in them at all, but everything he thought he knew changed when he met Jean Valjean. Valjean was strange, he was good and kind, but he shouldn’t be. Javert knew for a fact that he was an escaped convict. Valjean should be cruel, violent, a horrible person, but he wasn’t. He donated to charity, he volunteered to help people, he did not fight back when Javert confronted him. He changed everything Javert thought he knew. Javert had been terrified at first, when he felt his anger towards Valjean start to shift. He had been scared when he allowed himself to listen to Valjean, to hear his side of the story. He was scared when he found himself agreeing to go out to dinner with this man, this convict. He was terrified out of his mind when he found himself liking the feeling of Valjean’s lips against his own. Valjean never asked too many questions and when he did, he openly allowed Javert to refuse to answer them. He listened when Javert finally told him the meaning behind the scars on his chest, told him the entire story of his childhood, of feeling so sick inside. Valjean held him when he cried, listened when he spoke, and never did anything until he was positive that Javert was comfortable with it. Javert was thankful for him. He was thankful for Valjean’s wife, who accepted him with open arms. He was thankful for his daughter, who wasted no time in welcoming her new father. Javert truly felt as if he was accepted and safe and home. He would look at the man whom he called his husband, the woman he was happy to share his husband with, and the girl he could call his daughter, his angel.