Chapter Text
It was dark, and Javert was freezing.
It may have been that insomnia had finally eaten away at his brain, but he couldn't help but wonder if he should call Gabrielle; a DA, even one from another state, tended to pull weight that he no longer possessed. But he dismissed the idea almost as quickly as it surfaced. Cheating the system was something Valjean would do, and no matter his circumstances Javert could always take comfort in lines not crossed.
Gabrielle would only laugh and chide him anyway. The woman had a contrary sense of humor, and she had been harassing him to give up his foolish chase for years now. He only wished he had the sense to listen to her. Now, locked away in a small, dank holding cell with no badge and no direction, did he see the sense in her words. Suddenly, everything he believed in seemed so fragile and meaningless.
His stomach rumbled, but he stubbornly shoved his hunger away. He wasn't sure when the last time he ate had been, but he would silently bare it as punishment for his insolence.
There were voices coming from the end of the holding cell hall, and one of them was soul-wrenchingly familiar. Could the man not resist rubbing just a little more salt into his gaping wounds? Javert didn't glance up as the cell door was opened, ignoring it in a juvenile attempt at denial.
For the longest time, there was only silence. Then, with a cautionary air, a warm presence settled into the mattress next to him.
"I told you not to try and follow me. I've told you that a lot, actually."
"Did you really think I'd let it go?"
"I had hoped. But you're stubborn." There was no admonishment in Valjean's tone, only a wiry affection. Javert refused to look at the man, keeping his eyes on the concrete floor while his tongue untwisted.
"I'm not the only one after you," he warned after a time.
"You are, actually."
Javert turned to stare at Valjean with startled eyes. That couldn't be right, not after everything he had made off with. "I know the men who were after you. They don't give up."
"I wouldn't know a thing about that," Valjean replied, not rising to the bait. "But I do know you're the only one chasing my shadow now. Don't you think it's time to give up the chase?"
Javert refused to believe it. "You stole more than a few fortunes from some very unpleasant people and just disappeared off the face of the earth. They'll never let you survive."
"You told me that ten years ago. And yet here we are, only you and I."
"And I still have a job to do. You should be in this cell, not me."
"You don't have a badge anymore. Did you really think arresting me without proof or credentials would have ended any other way?" Valjean's voice was gentle, but that simple fact stung like nothing else he had ever experienced. He buried his face in his hands in a desperate attempt to escape this hell for even a moment.
And the truly horrible part was that Valjean was right. Javert's obsession had brought him only darkness and tragedy, and now he was paying his penance. To be locked up while this man ran free and held unaccountable. He could think of nothing worse.
"Am I really worth this obsession?" Valjean asked. "Can you show me one person I ever hurt with my actions?"
"Fantine." It was an extremely low blow, but Javert was so badly hurting and it made him want to hurt the other in turn. However, the moment the words left his mouth, he instantly felt a wave of shame crash not him. Valjean had done more for Fantine then anyone else would have.
"I'm sorry-,"
"Fantine died of a broken heart and no will to live, which will probably haunt me until the day I die," Valjean whispered, and while there was pain in his voice, there was also a deep, unabated strength. "I may have been able to save her if…"
"Dwelling on it only makes it worse," Javert offered after a long breath.
"Perhaps."
A steady, loving hand brushed over his forehead where it peeked out above his hands, as if its blessing could banish his shame. A Heresy's bar and a bottle of water were set down next to him.
"Eat," Valjean gently ordered. "I'll see to your bail."
Protests bubbled up in Javert's throat. There was no way he'd allow charity from this man. But for whatever reason, the words couldn't fight past his suddenly heavy tongue and frozen lips. And by the time he had forced life back into them, Valjean had already clasped a comforting hand to his shoulder and was on his way, the cell door clanging shut behind him.
Javert barely held back the painful snarl that tried to twist up his lips. Embarrassment and humiliation warred in his mind, causing him near physical pain. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve this, but God above this had to be punishment for some transgression or other. If there was any justice left in the world he would be left here to rot, forgotten.
But when warm and loving hands gripped him tight and raised him as if he were a child, he allowed it. And when he was tucked into a solid frame, all he could hear was the rhythmic beating of Valjean's heart. He let that lure him away from dark thoughts as he was led into the light.
*
Her papa never told her, but Cosette was a smart girl and she was good at puzzles. She knew there was a reason they never stayed in one place for longer then a year. A reason money was never a concern for them despite the poor economy. A reason why her papa constantly drilled her on their escape protocols. She may not know everything, but she knew running when she lived it.
Then there was the shadow man, who seemed to appear out of no where when they stayed in one place for longer than a year. Over time, Cosette had come to associate that man with running again. Whenever he appeared, they would be off to a new city and a new life within days, if not hours.
"His name is Javert," her father confessed one night when she pressed him on it. "He's a shadow with an obsession."
"You?"
Her papa brushed her bangs away lovingly, smiling. "You don't need to be concerned about that, my darling. You'll always be safe."
Cosette knew that, but it didn't stop her from being concerned for him. Whenever the shadow man would appear, her papa would stress and shake. She didn't have to be an adult to see that he was scared of the man.
However, when she was thirteen, someone decided to rewrite the rules.
One night, her papa called her to say he would be home late. Cosette made dinner as usual anyway- simple spaghetti with a thick, meaty sauce- and set his portion aside in the oven to keep it warm. She then proceeded to spent the night obsessively monitoring the news, fully expecting to see her papa's face plastered all over it, even if she didn't know for what. But there was nothing on television past the latest town hall report, and around midnight the door finally cracked open. Her papa trudged in the front door, leading an exhausted, defeated looking shadow by the hand behind him.
"He'll be staying with us for a while," Papa had explained when she had questioned him later as the shadow man devoured the leftover spaghetti. "He needs some stability right now."
Cosette couldn't say she was completely surprised. Her father would rescue every animal in the local shelter if he could manage it and took home the distressed plants no one else wanted from the nursery. She adored him and his large, forgiving heart, but the shadow man- Javert, she told herself firmly--had been the maker of her worries for years now. Nonetheless, she trusted her papa, even if he was a bit of a bleeding heart.
Later, she realized her papa's definition of 'a while' seemed much longer than hers as, nearly five years later, Javert was still there. She didn't mind though, since it meant they finally, finally stopped moving.
*
Cosette was in her room when Javert returned from wherever he had gone, but her door was open and sound moved through their house easily.
"You're back late," her father commented. He usually did most of his work in the living room where the light was better and he could occasionally gaze out into the immense garden in their front yard . Only Cosette knew he had spent the last few hours pretending not to monitor the driveway instead, waiting for Javert to return.
"I had an emergency in the city."
"Oh?" Her father sounded distracted. There was silence after that, but Cosette half turned in her seat to listen to the sound of their movement. Eavesdropping was a terrible practice, but what else was she to do when her papa refused to tell her anything? Now it was more of a habit than anything.
"My meeting was with Enjolras."
"I don't think I know who that is."
"Gabrielle's boy. She passed away recently and Felix is causing him problems."
There was more silence, longer this time. Cosette knew because she had bolted straight in her chair at the mention of her biological father's name and was counting the breaths until her papa spoke. She had never known much about Felix past the sad lamenting her mama would sometimes utter, and his name had been taboo in the house for years now. Ever since her mama had died, she had never allowed herself to dwell on him, too concerned with her papa and with the constant running. After they stopped, it had never really been worth a thought. But with his name hanging in the air, she was amazed at the instant hunger of her curiosity.
"I'm sorry to hear that," her papa finally muttered.
"I'd like to tell Cosette about it."
"No." Immediate, and stern. Never a good combination.
"Don't be-,"
"No."
"She deserves to know, Jean."
"What good will it bring? After what that man did to Fantine, he has no business in Cosette's life."
"Do you really think ignorance and denial is the best course of action here? She's old enough to decide that for herself, and you know it. I've already told Enjolras everything."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because he needed to know. Just as Cosette does. Hiding this from them was foolish, but I went along with it because I had no say in the decision. It was a choice Gabrielle, Fantine, you, and even Felix, got to make. But she is as much my daughter now as yours, and I say she has a right to know."
Cosette wasn't sure when she had gotten to the foot of the stairs, but when her toes touched cold linoleum she was startled to find herself outside the kitchen. Javert's words had stopped her cold. He thought her a daughter? For near the last five years, the last two in particular, she had hoped, but to hear him say it…Her heart beat a little faster at that, and a smile cam unbidden to her face. It was good to hear.
She crept through the kitchen, spying her parents through the archway. Javert was standing deep in her papa's personal space, hands clenched at his side to keep them still. Her papa looked both furious and weary, which twisted her heart. He bared the burdens of the world on his shoulders, and she hated it when something about her added to that burden.
"Why did you even- Cosette." Damn, that came faster than expected. She had at least been hoping for a little more information before she was caught.
"Hi Papa. Hi Javert," she greeted, her voice sweet despite the anxiety and inquisitiveness warring within her.
Javert turned to regard her with sharp, penetrating eyes.
"Eavesdropping is unbecoming."
"But necessary, it seems. I hear you have something to tell me?" she phrased it like a question, giving them a loophole to slip through. Curiosity may be roaring deep in her soul but she never wanted to cause them pain.
Javert scrubbed roughly at his face, looking exhausted. But his eyes were clear as he studied her from between his fingers. Behind him, her papa looked ill.
"I have something to talk to you about," Javert started, and Cosette couldn't help but be amused at his formal tone. He was always so careful to lay out every little detail and confirm each statement before moving on. She nodded and sat down, tucking her skirt around her knees while he composed his thoughts.
"How much do you know about your father?" he asked.
"Papa?" She was stalling and they both knew it. Javert played along anyway.
"Felix."
Cosette let her nose wrinkle before she could stop herself. If she were to put all she knew about Felix in a box, it would contain is his name, a lingering smell of disappointment, and a few wrinkled, faded Polaroids her mama had clung to for far too long. Her papa had been all she had ever needed on that front. She supposed her easy dismissal of the man who helped create her spoke to a flaw in her character, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The man wasn't even a shadow in her memories when her papa shown like the brightest sun.
Jarvert seemed to be aware of her feeling, if his expression was anything to go on.
"Something came up with him that you've become involved with, if indirectly. Would you like me to continue?"
"Am I going to like it?"
"Probably not."
"Tell me."
"Cosette-," her Papa took a step forward, and she felt her heart crack a bit. But she knew this conversation needed to happen. Javert was being oh so careful, treating her as if she were both glass and stone. Part of her, the young part that still clung to her dolls and dresses and sparkly toys, shied away from it. This didn't have to happen now, it whispered. She still had a few more years to live in blinded naiveté. But her older self, the one that worked and studied and bled for the things she wanted, was desperate for more.
"Tell me."
Her papa didn't look happy, but Javert proceeded take her back in time two decades, where a woman named Gabrielle, who had a voice like thunder and undeniable passion had married a beautiful bastard of a man named Felix. He didn't pull his punches; He described their marriage, their pains, their fights, and their eventual divorce with a kind of clinical detachment that suggested a volcano of emotions bubbling just below the surface, waiting to be tapped.
Then he told her about Enjolras, a boy with Felix's curls and eyes wrapped around Gabrielle's brains and conviction and a voice all his own.
When Javert came to an end, he waited with a straight back and an unreadable expression for Cosette to respond. But he had to wait a while because her mouth was as dry as the Sahara and her brain racing at high speed. A brother…
In a blink of an eye, she had made a decision.
"Where is he?"
"Cosette, this doesn't mean -,"
"Papa," Cosette interrupted with steel in her voice. "I love you. I always will." Her turned hard, terrible eyes back on Javert. "Where is he?"
*
Cosette was fairly sure this was a very bad idea. The subway was dimly lit, odd smelling, and four stops ago someone had been raving about how the One True Savior would come with the Rapture to judge them all. How morbid. But she glanced at the flyer in her purse and her resolve was instantly strengthened. She had a goal and she was determined.
Not matter how sweetly she asked or how elegantly she manipulated, Javert had told her nothing about Enjolras past his name and general location. They needed to know of each others existence, he explained, but there would be no point in their meeting when all it would do is benefit a broken and vile man. He had even gone as far as to expressly forbid it. Her papa, always so strong and gentle, had seemed on the brink of becoming a nervous wreck at a word, so Cosette had smiled and demurred and agreed, all while her mind screamed at how much bullshit that was.
But she had a name and a location. It had taken her half a day with Google and the yellow pages for company to track him down.
Now, sitting on a grimy subway speeding toward the center of the city, Cosette had to stop and think for a moment. Javert was anything but stupid; he had to have known she wouldn't listen to him. And while his face had been set in stone, now that she thought back with a clearer head she could see his quick, dark eyes watching her and waiting.
Oh, her thought, both amused and irked. Oh you're a crafty bastard and I'm an idiot. But, with another glance at the flyer in her purse, she decided she could live with being an idiot.
A thump on her right, as well as a set of immature giggles got her attention. Two men--boys really--sat across from her, and the way their eyes constantly darted back to her told her they had more on their mind than just admiring the view. It probably wouldn't lead anywhere, but if there was one thing her papa had taught her, it was to be a practical soul at heart. She shifted in her seat, settling her purse more easily on her lap.
The next time the nearest one peeked at her, she caught his eye and smiled, wide, open, and a little too friendly for a fellow commuter. The can of pepper spray was in plain sight in her hand, but her purse hid the heavy duty MagLite in her lap. She had already turned all three of her sharp rings toward her palm; a slap from her could take an eye out. The small workmen's knife clipped to her pocket was for emergencies only, but she took comfort in its weight as she shifted her hips.
Papa believed in practicality, but Javert believed in being prepared. Cosette found she could value both lessons simultaneously. She took a deep satisfaction in the pale, sickly shade they both turned under her gaze.
Finally, her stop arrived and she disembarked with a quick scan at the nearest sign. Collard Square was only a few blocks away. Pulling out the flyer from her purse, she unfolded it with slightly trembling hands.
Most of what she had found on Enjolras had been in connection with an advocacy group called the ABC. She had tracked the group, particularly his division, obsessively after her discovery. And when a rally to protest corporate funding in elections had appeared on their calendar, she found she couldn't resist the urge to see him in person. Javert had described him well enough, but she constantly found herself imagining him; did they share the same eyes, the same face? Did he bite his tongue when he thought, like she did? Did he have dimples when he smiled, like her? An endless barrage of questions burned themselves into her brain, demanding answers.
She had no plans to approach him. While Javert said he had told Enjolras about her, she was under no fairytale illusions. He had a life of his own, a family, a purpose. He may never even want to meet her. All she sought was a glance. Just one, she told herself, and she'd leave never to turn back.
She couldn't tell if she was lying to herself or not.
When she arrived at the square, she realized the rally was much, much bigger than she had expected. For a moment, all she could see were waves upon waves of people, signs, and shouting. She was at the edges of the crowd, and the dense pack of bodies meant she had little chance of making it further inward. This wouldn't do at all. She peered around, looking for Plan B.
Plan B turned out to be a pack of strapping young men to her right, leaning against a high, broad wall made of red brick and mortar. It was too high for anyone to conveniently climb, so the top of the wall was empty of spectators. But, as one of the men leaned over to tie his shoe, an idea occurred to her.
She took off running before she could second guess herself. She made the jump to the bench near them with no trouble at all, pacing the length of it in long, even strides. One of them saw her coming, but all he got out was a startled laugh before she jumped off the bench and planted her foot on the bent man's back. He jerked up in surprise, vaulting her much smaller frame upwards. It was a near thing, but she managed to get her hands wrapped around one of the iron lighting fixtures along the wall and scramble up until she was perched on the wide lip.
"Thank you!" she called down cheerfully, flashing her most charming smile down to them. The one she had used as a spring board looked enraged, but his companions seemed more amused than anything. One of them was laughing so hard he was on the ground, breathless. All good, then.
"Nicely done!" one of them called out, flashing her a wide grin. "Think you can do that again so I can record it?"
"It's not nearly as much fun the second time around," she hollered back. "He'd be expecting it!"
She allowed them to snap a few pictures of her anyway, even blowing a kiss or two down in reward. By the time they moved on, even her impromptu trampoline seemed in a good mood. She was rather proud of herself, all told. Glancing around her new seat, she found that the top of the wall was littered with building rubble, abandoned bricks, and even a beer can or two, all of which she collected in a small pile to clear space for herself.
With a much improved view, she cast her eye out over the massive crowd. From her vantage point, she could see that it mostly converged around a large elephant statue in the center of the square. Spiraling out from there was a riot of color that mixed and swirled about as tiny splinter groups curved around smaller landmarks. Riot police outlined the circle, the dark boarder to a beautiful picture. Pulling her phone out of her purse, Cosette snapped a few pictures and fiddled with the filters while she waited.
She had just started to debate breaking into her emergency candy stash when an almost unnatural hush fell over the crowd. Glancing up, her eyes darted around for a reason.
Then she saw him: wearing battered boots, jeans, and a bright red jacket with his blond hair (almost exactly her shade) flying around his face in disheveled curls, it was as if he were a beacon calling to her wayward ship. As she watched, Enjolras managed to climb his way up the large statue with the assistance of a worried-looking brunette who paced the base like a mother bear. Clinging to the elephant's trunk with one hand, he leaned out over the crowd, opened his mouth, his booming voice promptly filling every nook and cranny of the square.
Cosette sat frozen, absolutely enraptured. For the next hour, he spoke and she absorbed his words with every fiber of her being. She couldn't feel her body anymore, except for the goosebumps rippling over her skin. She couldn't even be sure she was breathing. He was...he was awe inspiring.
As he finished, the crowd went insane with cheers and cries. They loved him, she realized. And they weren't the only ones. She had just witnessed her brother bring to life thousands of people to one cause, one purpose with his ideas and his passion. Even this far away, she could tell he truly believed every word he spoke. And his belief sparked something in her that demanded she do her absolute best to match it with everything she had. Anything less would be a complete disrespect of everything she had just witnessed.
Her eyes were wet. She hadn't realized it over the roar of the crowd. Along the edges of the rally, the riot police stood on high alert.
She didn't see who threw it, but a bottle suddenly exploded on the statue near Enjolras' face. He jerked away from the spitting glass, grasping desperately to the trunk as gravity threatening to do its work on him. Cosette couldn't help but scream as he fought for his grip, throwing her voice out as if it could catch him, or soften the blow. In the next moment, the worried brunette who had been prowling around Enjolras' feet had managed to stretch far enough up, grabbed his wrist, and ripped him sideways into his arms before his balance was completely thrown. Despite her frantic searching, she lost track of him amid the bodies surging forward after that.
The crowd was screaming for a different reason now as the mood around her changed in an instant. Never attack an icon before a mob, she heard Javert's voice say in the back of her mind. He had always tested out his academy lessons on her, and some of it had been bound to stick. People don't react well when their icons are attacked.
Javert seemed to have a talent for understatement, she thought as the crowd exploded below her feet.
Her isolated perch was high enough away from the crowd for the violent wave of bodies to simply sweep away under her, but the objects being thrown proved a dangerous hazard. She hurriedly laid flat as a piece of debris barely missed her, pressing her face to the sun-hot stone below her.
She could hear things though. The sounds of the riot were made up of screams, pounding feet, and chaotic destruction. Something made of glass shattered near her head, and she felt metal graze her calf. Terror gripped her heart as she realized just how exposed she was, all alone on her towering roost. If anyone was so inclined, she could be picked off easily with a large enough rock or metal scrap. Curling up, she tried to make herself as small as possible.
She wasn't sure how she heard them above the din, or why she turned toward them, but the words seemed to float to her ears like driftwood in a river.
"There he is! Grab him before he gets back to the others!"
"It's insanity out there! If anyone sees us-,"
"You want to go back and tell Gillenormand we couldn't grab him after all this!"
"Wait for him to get closer, you idiots. We won't be able to chase him through all this."
That got her attention. Fear momentarily forgotten, Cosette slowly crawled forward until she was peeking over the far corner of the wall, searching out the source of the voices. In the alley below her, three thugs hovered in the shadows with their eyes locked on a target past her line of sight. Watching them, she was reminded of a pack of hyenas waiting to strike and devour their pray.
Everything in the next few moments happened so quickly that Cosette was able to remember little of it later. She couldn't be sure how she knew the young man who appeared along the edge of the crowd was their target, or where he had come from. All she could recall was the dreadful certainty of impeding violence upon him. As the riot pushed him closer, the first thug struck like a spider on a fly.
Cosette's hands were around her heavy MagLite before she even realized she had pulled it from her purse. She had never had the best aim, but she could hit the broad side of a barn when needed, and the hefty flashlight clocked the first thug just as his hands wrapped around the young man's arm. The thug went down instantly.
As the second and third sprang out from the alley, she grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on, which turned out to be a broken bottle tossed her way earlier. She missed them both this time but the impact of glass on concrete made them flinch enough for the young man to realize he was under attack and pull away.
"Up here!" Cosette screamed out. "Come this way!"
The young man didn't even hesitate, just ran to her. The two thugs had recovered, but Cosette still had a collection of rocks and bricks and beer cans at her disposal, and she was even able to pelt one of them in the eye as they tried to advance.
The young man had gotten to the wall, but its height thwarted him just as it had her earlier. With no makeshift launchpad, he was left trying to get a foothold against the smooth brick. She threw one last stone, hoping to keep the thugs away long enough to relax her defense and swooped down to stretch out her hand. Cool fingers wrapped around her wrist and she pulled with everything she had.
It was always harder to pull someone up than to drag them down. She remembered an addiction and recovery seminar she had taken that detailed exactly why that was, but all she could recall now was that her odds of getting him up were slim. But the adrenaline, fear, and determination coursing through her veins negated the strain in her shoulder and the numbness in her fingers. She gripped his wrist with her free hand and dug her nails in, ignoring of the blood that she most likely drew.
She still didn't have the strength to get him all the way up, but she was at least able to haul him far enough to wrap his hands around the iron fixtures directly below her. With his grip secure, he was able to drag himself upward and out of harm's way while she hurled a few more stones at the thugs that were biting at his heels. Once he had gotten his elbow over the lip of the wall, she grabbed his shirt and drug him the rest of the way, heedless of the scraps and bruises she was probably giving him in the process.
"Thank you," he gasped as he knelt shaking next to her. She rubbed his back soothingly, muttering nonsense assurances as he clung to her hand. Then his head came up and Cosette abruptly found her heart somewhere in the vicinity of her throat as a face full of adorable freckles stared back at her through wide, clear blue eyes. He had full lips that begged a kiss and wild brown hair that she immediately wanted to bury her fingers into; Cosette knew she had never felt this way about someone. Not her papa, or Javert, or even Bernard DeLurant, who's body she had spent a very pleasant evening exploring on prom night.
"No problem," she said weakly as the thugs shouted below them. She eased him away from the edge as the they circled; they hadn't started throwing things in retaliation yet, so they must want to take him unhurt. It was a shame Cosette wasn't working under the same restrictions. She would badly want to kill them if she wasn't so enraptured with the equally stunned look on the young man's face. His gaze bore into her with an intensity that burned and made her soul sing.
"I'm Marius."
"Cosette."
One of the thugs down below screamed a very nasty word at her, but before she could respond in kind Marius had taken up one of the larger stones from her collection and thrown it down with much more accuracy than she had displayed. The loud mouthed thug reeled back, sporting a bloody gash over his eye and she could see the bruising even from their tall vantage point. Not to be shown up, she wrapped her hands around another stone but the riot police had begun moving in at that point, dispelling the chaos around them with shields and batons aplenty. The thugs melted into the remaining crowd, and Cosette drew Marius far enough away from the edge to escape notice, curling them together to hide beneath the lip of the wall.
They stayed entangled together for what felt like hours, each taking shelter in the other as below them the world seemed to fall apart.
"Are you alright?" he asked into her hair. She felt her heart beat faster at the care and unbidden concern in his voice. Surely he could feel it too, pressed as close as he was.
"Yes," she whispered back, hugging him tightly. But when he winced under her, she remembered her less than gentle handling as she had yanked him up the wall. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You could never hurt me," he instantly replied, pulling her impossibly closer. Cosette had never felt so secure in all her life.
"Are you bleeding anywhere?" she persisted, because she was sure she could see traces of pain in the lines of his face.
"I don't think so."
She wasn't satisfied with that answer and drew back far enough to run her hands over his body. She was determined to keep her touch clinical, if only to fend off the growing panic at the thought of him in pain. Thankfully, while her search revealed a myriad of bruises, particularly along his torso and arms, the only blood she found was from a light graze on his biceps that was already starting to scab over and the gashes her nails had left on his wrist. She reached out to snag her purse from where it rested a few feet away, smiling as Marius refused to let her waist go. Making sure to stay low, she rummaged through its contents as she drew back and smiled when she came across the antibacterial gel her papa always threw in her purses. Bless him.
She smothered Marius' cuts liberally with the gel, because God only knew what they were laying in and she'd be damned if she let him get infected. Now that she had him, she was never letting him go. She was sure of that. Once she finished, he snatched the gel from her and gently applied it to the cuts and scraps she hadn't realized she had accumulated during her defense of him. He inspected the rest of her with the same deliberate, loving care, and she felt her heart wrap itself irreversibly around him.
She had no idea what was happening to her. From her experience, love like this took time and caution. It had with her papa and Javert, after all. Love at first sight only happened in movies. But…she didn't even know Marius' last name, or even who he was, but she knew she loved him, unconditionally and devoutly. Of that she had no doubt. She thought that revelation would scare her, but all it did was bring her a serene sort of comfort, because she could see her exact thoughts reflected back to her in his eyes.
The ground below them had long been silent when they finally decided to pop the bubble they had surrounded themselves in. The only evidence of the multitude of people that had been in attendance earlier was the overflown trashcans and the footprints in the dirt. The square, which had been so teeming with life less than an hour ago, was now as silent as the placid sea.
Marius eased himself down the wall first, using Cosette's outstretched hand and the iron fixtures to lower himself safely to the ground. Once his feet met concrete, she was able to follow him by stepping down into his linked hands. He didn't release her until she was steady on, and even then it was only to instead tentatively take her hand. She smiled at him, entwining his fingers with her own.
"Are you hungry? We could go--or maybe a movie, that's what people do, right? Or we can just keep walking--,"
Cosette was willing to do anything in the world if it kept her next to Marius. Resting her head on his shoulder, she allowed him pick their direction--though she suspected that he was paying as much attention to it as she was. They ambled down street after street, caught up in each others presence to the point of complete isolation from the rest of the world.
Eventually though, her phone shouted for her attention. Nearly growling in frustration, she dug it out of her purse to see her papa's name flash across the screen. Then she noticed the time. Uh oh.
Her expression was enough to tell Marius what was going to happen next. She couldn't tell if she was more elated or worried when his face dropped almost to his feet, clearly broadcasting his disappointment. She never wanted to see that look on his face, but she was contradictory thrilled she could put it there.
"Here." She thrust her phone into his hands, maneuvering him into putting his information into her address book. She took it as an excuse to snap a few pictures of him to fill out the contact's photo. And if she took more than she needed, well, Marius definitely wasn't calling her on it.
"Let me get--oh no," Marius muttered suddenly, his hands flapping around his pockets. Cosette thought it was adorable. "I forgot I turned it on silent once he started speaking--,"
She took the phone the moment he produced it. "Twenty-four missed messages?" An odd possessiveness flared within her, startling her with its intensity.
"My co workers are a bit excessive. I'm pretty sure they think I'm a sheep in constant need of herding."
Cosette could certainly see that. But while relief was a soothing balm over her unruly emotions, it didn't completely dismiss them. He looked over her shoulder as she tapped in her own information, only smiling at her when she moved over into his messages. Most of them were from someone named Courfeyrac, demanding to know where he was and threatening to inject him with a pet tracker. A few from an Eponine worriedly wondering where he was. One from someone named Feuilly telling Marius that if he didn't hear from him within the hour, he'd come looking for him and by God, he'd find him--Cosette could feel the intimidation and cold competence in those words seeping through the small screen. Then she froze as a familiar name scrolled by.
"Where do you work?"
"At the 1st North branch of the ABC. I actually just started."
Cosette should have felt terror at that revelation. It was there somewhere in the depths of her subconscious, knocking cautiously at her brain. But she dared not let a single detail of it penetrate her mind. She suppressed the building turmoil, hoping beyond reason to just entomb this all away and spend the rest of her life walking with him. Having him this close to her meant the world could do no wrong.
However, time had other plans in mind. Marius' subway stop came up first, though he missed his train since they refused to leave each other when the time came, heads instead pressed together as they spoke. Practically won out in the end though, and they had to part ways or stay the night in the station. Cosette managed to wrangle a kiss and the promise of a second meeting out of him before finally releasing back him to the world. As she watched him descend the subway steps (stopping every few feet to glance back at her) she finally felt the panic set in.
The subway stop she needed was a few blocks away, but she had to hide in a side alley before she even managed to leave Marius' station. It was becoming too much, the build up of the day slamming into her brain and frying her emotions. She found herself laughing at the insanity of it all, and she was breathless and crying by the time she realized it. She slid down the side of the wall, trying desperately to catch her breath.
She had sworn to herself she would never approach Enjolras, but not a soul on earth was going to keep her from Marius.
*
"My chief told me I was chained to my desk for the rest of the week for disappearing on them," Marius told her the next day over the phone. "But you want to do something this weekend?"
"I'd love to," Cosette's treacherous mouth replied.
*
Cosette tugged at her hair, not nearly as pleased with it knotted in the back of her head as she thought she would be. She could add a pin or two so it distracted from the harsh lines, but she didn't like how anything looked with her favorite white summer dress. Maybe it was too much; did a pair of jeans and a nice top look better? The pink flats she had well broken-in felt oddly uncomfortable, making her debate if her converse sneakers weren't a smarter option. She supposed she could wear her hair down, but it was a frazzled mess right now with all the fussing she had put it through. She sighed as she tossed the pins back onto the counter, unaccustomed to finding her appearance this frustrating.
"Having difficulties?" came a voice from the hall. Javert was at the bathroom door, leaning against the jam and pinning her with inquiring eyes.
"Just being indecisive," she admitted. There was no other word for it.
"You look fine."
"You're not an impartial opinion. And I'm aiming for something a little over 'fine'."
"Why are you so concerned about it?"
"Are you asking as my father or as Papa's spy?" Javert averted his eyes, his facing doing its level best not to turn a bright shade of red. Cosette couldn't tell if it was from the accusation or her use of the word 'father', which she had been deliberately throwing into as many conversations as possible over the past week. And she wouldn't stopping anytime soon; he had finally accepted his place in their lives and she had no plans in letting him worm away from her. Repetition was key was Javert.
Now if only she could be as sure in her grip on Marius. Whenever she thought of her gentle angel, her stomach flip-flopped inside her.
"Probably both," Javert decided after a moment.
"It's a date." She had already told them both this, but was entirely unsurprised at having to repeat herself. "We're having lunch, we're getting to know each other, and my phone will be on at all times, so feel free to track the GSP signal at your leisure."
"Don't think we won't. And where did you meet him again?"
Atop a brick wall while escaping a riot that erupted because the long lost half-brother you faux forbid me to track down brought us all to tears and then nearly got himself killed. "At that adorable coffee shop down on 3rd. They have the cutest little scones there, I'm not sure if you've tried them. Their pumpkin one in particular--."
"Enough," Javert stopped her rambling with a quick word, just as she knew he would. He was never one to listen to unnecessary drivel. Cosette couldn't help but smile into the mirror as she dabbed on her pale lipstick, and Javert shot her an unamused look. "Fine, I'll stop prying. Be smart."
"I'll take the taser if you want me too." And she would. There was a difference between tweaking her overprotective parents noses and disregarding their concerns for her safety.
"Only if you want to. Though Jean wants you to take an armed escort, and even then he still won't be happy about it."
Cosette had only ever thought it was adorable her papa thought he got to have an opinion on her romantic partners.
"You'll just have to piece his broken heart back together once I'm gone," she commanded as she hooked her gold and pearl earrings in. After a second inspection, she was actually much happier with her hair. She checked her fingernail polish for any last minute chips and, with a quick kiss to Javert's cheek in parting, bounced down the stairs.
"Papa! I'm leaving!"
Her papa, in his nook in the living room surrounded by paperwork, and smiled heartbreakingly at her, causing her to stumble on her way out the door. A nagging sense of guilt bit at her conscious; she knew he was having a hard time accepting her growing self reliance, but had managed to keep most of his reservations to himself. Though she knew she hadn't made it any easier on him in recent months.
Setting her bag down by the door, she stepped into her papa's living room office.
"Cosette?" her papa questioned right before she enfolded him in a deep hug, using the physical contact in substitute of everything they had trouble saying to each other. He was so important to her, so vital to her center. But, like many children, she sometimes forgot how important of a part he was to everything she became.
She supposed she could tell him all this, but her papa had always been so modest--he would sputter and blush and have no idea how to respond. But he had always been amazing at hugs, ever since she was young. So instead she spoke his language and attempted to smother her bear of a papa with her much smaller frame.
Her papa laughed, wrapped his large arms around her, and easily hefted her off her feet despite his seated position.
"Have fun, baby girl," he told her, his voice full of affection and light. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Of course." A peck to his cheek, and he looked years lighter then he had even just moments ago. Satisfied that all was right with him, Cosette grabbed her things and headed out the door.
As she slung her bag back over her shoulder, it took her mere steps to realize the weight was off in it. Peeking inside, she allowed a ruthful smile to cross her lips as she dug under the book, extra pair of shoes, wallet, and random other assortment of things that had ended up in the depths of her large purse. Seems Javert thought she should have the taser after all.
A subway ride later, she found Marius waiting for her at the gateway to the station. She couldn't help but smile as she ran to him, so deliriously excited at the sight of him even after only week of separation.
"I missed you so much," she told him as he ran his hands over her hair. He was probably destroying all her hard work but suddenly she couldn't care less how she looked. His expression told her just how much he already adored her anyway.
"Me too. This week…" Marius trailed off, the smile on his face dimming any words he could manage. Cosette couldn't agree more. The last five days had seen time crawl at an agonizing pace as she counted the hours until the weekend.
She noticed the basket at his feet only after spending about fifteen minutes rememorizing his face.
"What's that?"
Marius turned a frankly adorable shade of red. "I thought, well we didn't have anything planned, not really. And there's a really pretty park just down the way. Jehan swears it's gorgeous this time of year."
Cosette's smile threatened to crack her face. "That sounds wonderful."
The park was gorgeous; the flowers had just started to bloom with spring and the breeze that ran through the trees kept them cool in the high sun. They found a quiet spot and settled in.
Their conversations had been wondering in and out of so many different subjects, but they finally managed to hit on the one Cosette had been concerned about: family.
"My father died in service," Marius told her, gently running his fingers up and down her arm. Her skin prickled pleasantly at the feeling. "He and my mother loved each other, but my mother's family weren't fans of the marriage. They seem to think they can erase him from my memory if they try hard enough. My mother may have stopped but she didn't live long after him. Maybe if she had my grandfather would have understood…"
Cosette had more than a few strong words for anyone who put that look on Marius' face. She did her best to kiss it away, enjoying the smooth feel of his lips against hers. She only let up when the lines around his face had finally eased into a smile.
"My mother died six months after meeting my stepfather," she told him, offering her vulnerability to cover his. "We moved around a lot when I was younger, but we settled down when my papa met my father."
Marius pressed their foreheads together, catching her eyes and holding them.
"My papa works in the mayor's office, a few towns over," That was accurate, she thought after a moment. Seeing as, being mayor, it was his office. "My father works at the local community college, teaching law." Her papa had once suggested Javert go back for his badge, but he had always seemed extremely reluctant about it. It seemed he preferred to educate instead, and her papa couldn't have been more happy about it. Cosette didn't pry because she knew her parents had a complicated history.
It was an extremely abbreviated version of the story, but Cosette was proud of herself for it. She didn't think their first real date was the place to get into the family drama that bubbled just below the surface.
She ignored the voice in the back of her mind asking when a good time would be.
Marius' phone beeped, drawing their attention back to reality. She nibbled on a piece of bread while he checked his messages, watching as he flushed.
"Something wrong?"
"No!" Marius said instantly. "It's only, there's something back at the office. I can do it later."
"No, let's go. I'd love to see where you work." Cosette wasn't sure who said that, but it sounded like her. That couldn't have been right though; Enjolras would be there.
But Marius looked thrilled at the idea, and Cosette couldn't bring herself to backpedal. So they bundled everything back into the basket and left the park hand in hand. Three subway stops and a bus ride later, she found herself starring at a pair large glass doors with 'ABC- 1st North' itched into them. Marius held the door for her, and she stepped into a spacious lobby with good lighting and sparse seating. The walls were covered in different flyers and newspaper articles, and while she didn't stop to read them the headlines all jumped out at her as she passed--bold words of triumph and liberty. After a moment, Cosette realized she was reading them all in Enjolras' rich, booming voice. The thought made her stomach twist with nerves.
"Took you long enough. Bahorel's been yelling for you for the last twenty minutes and I'm about to staple his mouth shut," a young boy behind the desk told Marius. Cosette couldn't imagine he was older than fourteen or so. He wore bright red jeans with a superhero shirt and his flyaway hair was being held back by a flowery headband.
"Use duct tape," Marius told him. "Combeferre gets mad when you misappropriate office supplies. Cosette, this is Gavroche, and don't let that adorable demeanor fool you, he's a downright terror."
"I'm sure no young man so dapper could be so cruel," she replied, smiling at the boy. He returned her blatant flattery with a sharp grin.
"Hi, beautiful," His eyes were bright and mischievous, his voice playful, as he leaned across the counter. "Run away with me and we'll leave this cruel world in the dust."
"You're spending too much time with Courfeyrac," Marius replied as Cosette laughed. She had to admit she was charmed in spite of herself and rewarded him with a peck on the cheek as she passed. He played the game well for someone so young. He'd be breaking hearts right and left in a few years.
"Marius!" If voices were animals, that one would have been a bull charging down the hallway. "I called you an hour ago! Those damn bastards over at Scott and Lowe are trying to bury us in paperwork again and their receptionist is a pit bull. You'll make a good chew toy for her while I sneak in back." A burly man was suddenly in front of them, papers fluttering around him like wayward birds.
"And I told you I'd be out today, Bahorel," Marius replied, sounding put out. "Remember?"
Marius gestured to her, and Bahorel paused in his muttering. He turned curious, slightly insane looking eyes on her, and for a few moments there was silence between them. Then he turned, yelling over his shoulder:
"She's real!"
"Grantiare, you owe me twenty bucks."
"Damnit, Marius! You did not just make me lose a bet to Jehan!"
"Your own fault for betting against the pool, dude."
"Is she cute?"
"Of course she's gonna be cute. His freckles are like a homing beacon to other furry woodland creatures."
"You never know, it could be a Beauty and the Beast type thing. Marius, I think you'd be an adorable Belle!"
"Tale as old as time~,"
"You were watching Disney movies again last night, weren't you?"
Laughing, Marius tugged her forward into the main office. There were people all over the room--some sorting through papers spread out on the floor, others rifling through boxes upon boxes stacked on desks. And, near the back, a head full of golden curls instantly drew her eye. Her heart caught in her throat.
"This is Cosette," Marius introduced to the room in general.
She held her breath as Enjolras' head slowly came up to stare at her, and even as the others all came up to say hello she felt his gaze on her. She tried her best to remember all the names being thrown out, but she was fairly sure she wouldn't be able to repeat them back if asked. But she could feel the weight of his eyes follow her around the room.
Finally, it was his turn. His grip was firm, his voice steady, but Cosette knew what to look for in herself, and she saw it in him: sheer, barely controlled panic.
"Enjolras."
"Cosette, it's so nice to meet you."
*
It was like playing with a time bomb, Cosette decided as she regarded Enjolras across the room. It would explode any second, and most likely take her with it, but the almost euphoric high she got from it astounded her. It was as if she were seeing herself from behind a veil, shouting out suggestions and demands as she would during an especially obnoxious movie.
After a few missteps, she was pretty sure she had the names down too: bouncy, happy Joly constantly orbiting bemused Bossuet, both of whom seemed drawn to beautiful, steadying Musichetta. Quiet but authoritative Combeferre, who seemed to easily command the room. Gentle, adoring Jehan who fluttered around her like a butterfly but had the core of a lion. Flirtatious Courfeyrac, who wasn't giving Marius a moment's rest over her, and who seemed to take an enormous amount of pleasure in his shamelessness. Quiet Eponine, who stayed near the back and refused to speak to her past a few short words. Slim Feuilly, who smelled of danger like a fire smells of smoke, and bull-like Bahorel who circled him in absentminded constraint.
Grantaire, interestingly enough, seemed as intensely aware of Enjolras as she was. As she watched, he slung an arm over the back of Enjolras' chair and nudged him gently when the blond became buried in his phone. His fingers were slowly, almost absentmindedly, stroking up and down blond's arm, even as Enjolras barely glanced up from the screen. She bit her lip in worry- she hadn't meant to send him spiraling into isolation. God, she hadn't mean to be here in the first place. Her instincts were screaming for her to do something, but she couldn't very well say anything without sending the room up in flames.
But, watching him, an idea came to her.
Lifting Marius' phone was much easier than it should have been. She would really need to teach him how to avoid that in the future. Her fingers flew over the keyboard and she tucked it into her lap as she waited.
hi :)
She saw the moment Enjolras froze, glancing up at Marius. But then, slowly, his eyes turned to her. The panic was still there but she met it with calm reassurance and friendliness. Please talk to me, she all but screamed through her eyes. I want you to talk to me. After a long moment, his lips quirked in tired amusement and his fingers worked.
Hello.
Tap tap tap.
i hear we've got something in common
So you did walk in knowing I was here. I wondered.
Cosette tried to keep her excitement subtle even as her fingers flew.
it's complicated. but i'll leave if you want??
Enjolras' gaze came up again, concerned. No.
wanna talk?
If you'd like.
Passive-agressiveness? doesn't sound like you
Do you know a lot about me?
i'm thorough :D
Then we share that in common as well.
Cosette peeked at him again, taking him in with a fresh perspective. His eyes were still locked on his phone and he was ever so slightly leaning left, into Grantaire.
You look sleepy.
And you look nosy.
Cosette twitched her nose at Enjolras, feeling proud when he huffed back a smile. It made him look so much more human.
you can smile! all the pictures of you are v stern She pulled up the browser and sent him a picture of himself lifted off a news article to emphasis her point. In it, he looked thunderous and righteous, without a hint of joy in his features.
You seem to smile enough for the both of us.
Suddenly, Bahorel's voice, full of wickedness, broke through their silent conversation. "I have an idea."
"Oh, shit."
"God help us."
"This is gonna end in a jail cell, isn't it?"
"No! Well…maybe not for us," Bahorel attested, looking at Marius and her with unholy delight.
*
"Miss," the security guard towered over them, but Cosette dutifully ignored him as she attempted to touch Marius' tonsils with her tongue. She was fairly sure all her carefully applied makeup from earlier this morning was smudged to high heaven, but Marius' lips were sinfully delicious. Straddling his lap, she kept one hand planted in his hair and the other locking his jacket in a death grip. One of his own hands was anchored firmly on her waist while the other fluttered from her thigh, arm, hair, and back again. She thought it was ridiculously endearing how hesitant he was to grope her in public.
"Miss!" the security guard barked again, firmer this time. Cosette pressed their lips together even harder to keep from answering. Feuilly had told them to hold out as long as they could, because even just one second could be the difference between success and failure.
Courfeyrac had offered to give them both some pointers, at which point Enjolras had shut him down with slightly wild eyes.
It was by no means a smart or even rationally acceptable plan. But Cosette could feel the urgent, demanding edge they all seemed to have. Whatever they were doing this for, they all seemed to think it was worth it.
"If we do this, we do it smart," Combeferre had told them. "Find a solid bench with no slots in it and no arm rests, so he can't handcuff you to anything. Don't show skin, because while the ABC can forgive a lot of things, registered sex offender isn't one of them. If he threatens you with violence, get the hell out. Understand?"
If she got arrested, Javert would kill her. Her papa would just be disappointed. Even days ago that thought would have bothered her beyond belief. Now though, her mouth (and the rest of her) was far too involved with Marius to form a plan of attack on that front. She couldn't help but moan as he pulled something with his tongue that made her body shudder.
"Now listen hear, you two," a heavy weight settled on her shoulder, and Marius tensed up below her.
"Run like hell!" Footsteps pounded on the floor, and the security guard jumped back from them. Bahorel, Eponine, Feuilly, and Courfeyrac all came barreling down the hallway. Cosette rolled off Marius quick as lightening and they were on their feet in moments.
The security guard tried to stop them, but Grantaire, who had been lingering near them, put himself in the way. Enjolras tripped up the other guard across the lobby, Jehan managed to jumble up the receptionist, and through a miracle that Cosette wasn't sure would happen, they all ended up stumbling out into the street. Marius took her hand and together they ran until her lungs gave out.
They landed in a side alley blocks and blocks away from Scott and Lowe, gasping as they all caught their breath.
"Did you get it?" Enjolras demanded, leaning against Grantaire in a way that spoke more of intimacy than support. Something protective that she didn't quite understand sparked within her as she eyed the brunette.
Bahorel, sitting against the wall and gasping, reached into his shirt and slapped down a folded stack of papers at Feuilly's feet, who quickly snatched them up. "Got it all."
"Oh thank God," Jehan intoned from his spot on the ground, chest heaving. Eponine grunted in agreement as she slowly paced the alley, hands on her head. "Can we not do that again?"
"What are you talking about? That was awesome."
"Except for the running. Can we put a treadmill in the office?"
"And have the thing turn into a monument to dust and guilt? No."
"I don't know what you all are complaining about, at least you got to see the show. Tell me one of you took pictures."
"How much are you willing to pay for the video?"
"You recorded us!" Marius yelped. Grantaire smirked at them both, cheerfully ignoring Enjolras' disapproval at his side.
"My soul, of course," Courfeyrac instantly offered.
"I'm fairly sure you've already sold me a good portion of that. Try again."
"Why, 'Fey, if you're hard up for soft porn, I could lend you Bossuet's laptop."
They continued to banter as they slid through the alleys and back ways of the city, avoiding major roads and heavily trafficked stops. Cosette couldn't help but be amazed at how seamless they all moved together, constantly shifting and regrouping in different collectives as they went and even keeping each other in sight. They moved as a unit, she realized.
And they were including her in it as well. Not completely, she hadn't quite earned that yet, but Jehan, Musichetta, and Combeferre actively involved her in the conversation and Courfeyrac continued to flirt brazenly. Joly tutted over the small scrap she had acquired during their getaway and Bossuet couldn't seem to stop grinning at her. From where he prowled the edges of the group like a fiery guard dog, Feuilly minded them all as his herd of sheep.
She did notice outliers though: Eponine didn't seem to want to come near her with a ten foot pole and Enjolras had all but wrapped himself up in Grantaire to avoid interacting with any of them. But the group adapted to those outliers as they moved, and Marius had taken her hand again. His lips were swollen from her kisses and his eyes were alit with excitement and he had never looked more beautiful to her.
Dinner wasn't so much an organized meal as it was food suddenly flung around the hurricane of people they had created as they moved. Only Cosette hadn't realized how late it was until her phone bumped against her hand as she dug in her purse (past the taser) for her wallet to pay the vendor.
"Oh no," she muttered as she stared at the small screen. The last subway out of the city had left ten minutes ago.
"Oohhh," Jehan tried and failed to sound believably distressed. "Oh well, I guess you'll just have to stay with us tonight."
She had been wrong earlier. Her papa was going to be the one to kill her, and Javert was going to help him hide her body. But looking around, Cosette couldn't find it in her to care.
*
It came to her phone this time.
Do you still want to talk?
Her fingers trembled slightly as they tapped out her response.
Any time you want.
Tomorrow morning.
*
Cosette was already fully dressed and sitting at the desk when Musichetta crept in the next morning. The other girl had offered up her own room the evening before, saying she had a place to crash herself. Cosette had been puzzled by that until Marius had quietly told her about Joly and Bossuet. Her cheeks had been red for nearly half an hour over that, which Musichetta had found adorable.
Cosette wouldn't have minded staying in Marius' room, but she felt that could be pushing her luck. Marius was so innocent and lovely, he deserved patience and support, not pressure.
So she had spent a sleepless night in Musichetta's room, counting the octopi. She had been playing with her phone to keep herself occupied, but she was sure she wouldn't have to wait long. In Enjolras' place she wouldn't.
"Leaving already?" Musichetta asked as she ruffled through her dressers. Cosette smiled as she pulled on a pair of octopus patterned sleep pants over her shorts and began brushing out her hair. Cosette tapped her flats against the floor to stem her impatience.
"No, just waiting."
Musichetta made a curious sound, but a knock on the door interrupted anything she had to say. Cosette shot forward, heedless of the other woman's surprised squeak.
On the other side of the door, Enjolras was wearing the same red jacket she first saw him in. And while he stood straight and proud, the dark circles under his eyes betrayed the sleepless night he undoubtedly had. Cosette couldn't claim she looked much better. She was still wearing yesterday's clothes, and even a the brief shower earlier she felt like a dried out husk.
She and Enjolras stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them sure where to start. It was hard enough to know what to say to a grown long lost sibling, but doing it in the threshold of another's room made it nigh impossible.
"Let's grab breakfast," Cosette threw out, floundering under the pressure of Musichetta's presence behind her. Suddenly the whole hallway felt suffocating, making her yearn to be anywhere else.
"That sounds wonderful," Enjolras responded immediately, stepping back to allow her into the hall.
"Saturday morning is pancakes," Musichetta said quietly, appearing behind Cosette. "All of us, Jehan's orders. Even Bahorel drags himself out of bed for it."
"Not now, 'Chetta," Enjolras whispered, his voice reflecting his exhaustion.
Musichetta took them both in with suddenly suspicious eyes, but Cosette met her gaze head on, because she was tired of hiding. The constant tension running through her body was taking its toll, which wore her patience thin. Around them, the brownstone was quiet with everyone else still abed, but the silence seemed to only amplify Musichetta's instincts as she weighted them both.
"What's going on?"
"Drop it, 'Chetta, please."
"I don't think I will. You two have been dancing around each other ever since Marius brought her home. Why-,"
Cosette turned and placed one hand on the door while her other landed on the jam, blocking the other girl into her room.
"He and I have business together," she said firmly. She never planned to have this moment alone with Enjolras, but now that it was being dangled so temptingly before her she wouldn't allow it to slip away. "It concerns no one else but us. We would both take it as a kindness if you please leave well enough alone."
She tried to pad the blow as much as possible, but hurt still flashed across Musichetta's eyes at her words.
"We'll be back soon," Enjolras told her, his expressive voice soothing where hers bit. "We just have some things to talk about. Everything's fine."
"I don't believe you," Musichetta replied, but she smiled sadly at them both anyway. "Go. I'll conveniently forget I saw you both."
Smiling, Cosette leaned in to press a quick kiss on her cheek before following Enjolras down the hall.
Breakfast turned out to be a small cafe a few blocks away from the brownstone. Cosette had only planned on ordering something light, but when Enjolras walked away from the counter with just a large cup of coffee, she ended up loading herself down with fruit, half a dozen pastries, yogurt, and toast as well. From watching him yesterday, she knew she couldn't bully him into doing anything directly, so instead she decided to try a tactic she frequently pulled on Javert.
She split her horde of food evenly down the middle, airily dropping Enjolras' half in front of him with no explanation or expectation. Digging into her own, she didn't prod him into eating or even acknowledge that he had the option to. He looked startled and bemused by her antics, but her complete dismissal made calling her on it seem foolish. So instead he sipped at his coffee and eyed her over the rim of the mug.
"How long have you known?" He finally asked as she ate.
"About a month. Javert told me because he told you."
"Right...I'm sorry I didn't reach out. I didn't know what to say."
"I didn't either," Cosette replied. "I only went to your rally last week so I could see you. I wasn't planning on anything else. But then, Marius happened…"
"Then Marius happened," he repeated with a slight smile on his face, as if the words were responsible for every major disaster in human history. "Have you told him?"
"No," she admitted. "I really wasn't sure how. Every time I try, it just sounds like I used him."
"Did you?"
"No." Cosette wasn't offended, she knew how it looked. But she also wouldn't stand for anyone questioning her more than once about it. Thankfully, Enjolras seemed to trust her word and merely nodded in return.
"Did you ever even want to met, or..." he had started to pick at the yogurt, and Cosette carefully did not draw attention to it. The key was to make sure he didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late.
"I didn't think I was going to approach you." she offered in turn. "I just wanted to know…you know, if we looked alike or-,"
"We do," he said, and the misery in his voice caught her off. "We both look like him."
Ah. The sickening look on his face now made much more sense. But she could work with that. Bonding over their disappointment in Felix was still bonding. She very determinedly did not watch as Enjolras dropped some of the strawberries she had given him into his yogurt. Good; she hated strawberries, so it worked out that she now had someone to shove them onto.
"What's he like? My mama only had a few faded pictures, and I never…"
"You're not missing much. He never expressed an interest in anything I did. He's passive-aggressive, condescending, distant, emotionally manipulative--," Enjolras cut himself off, rubbing at his chin.
"I may be a little bias," he admitted. "My mother told me he was also charming, charismatic, and extremely competent. I never saw much of that, but I never cared to. "
The dejection on his face had Cosette scrambling for another topic.
"Can you tell me about her? Your mother?"
And over the next hour, they spoke not about the man they shared but the women they didn't. Gabrielle, with her fiery, contrary, biting sensibility. Fantine and her kind, loving, gentle nature. Their differences (their polar personalities and varying skill sets) and their similarities (both brunettes with vivid light eyes who loved their children to death and beyond). He told her about life with a single mother and an intermittent father, his co-founding of the ABC, and his work. Though she noticed he spoke little Grantaire, guarding that part of himself with possessive determination. In return, she offered up stories of her papa, and of Javert. Of constantly moving and shifting, even if she left out why. Of learning about his existence, and tracking him down.
"It's a little disturbing that I was that easy to find," Enjolras commented after she finished. He had worked his way through his yogurt (and hers) as well as a good chunk of the fruit and a bit of toast.
"My Google-foo is amazing," she bragged. "And I really wanted to find you."
Her brother smiled over the table at her. "I'm glad you did."
Cosette was too.
*
They didn't leave the cafe until well into the morning, and only because Grantaire and Marius had started texting them both incessantly. Seeing Enjolras face fight between annoyance and affection while on his phone was an education in expression for her.
Only when they returned to the brownstone, her good mood come crashing down around her. There was a plain-looking white car parked in the street, and a man leaning against the passenger door who was eying the front gate wearily. She had inspected the gate earlier, and knew unwelcome guests were never getting past it.
And even without Enjolras' sharp intake of breath, the man's graying blond curls and penetrating blue eyes told her exactly who he was. Heart in her throat, she grasped her brother's hand in support as Felix turned on them both. Well, mostly on Enjolras. His gaze didn't linger for more than a moment on her.
He didn't recognize her, she realized. In the next moment, she berated herself on how stupid that sounded; of course he didn't recognize her. He had never really met her.
Felix raised an eyebrow at Enjolras. "Get rid of the other one so soon?"
"Mention Grantaire again, and you'll see just how much like mother I am."
"Screaming at me will get your no where."
"Punching you in the face will, though."
Felix sighed the deep sigh of an individual much put upon, rolling his eyes heavenward. In response, Enjolras' grip on her hand neared painful levels, but she dared not let it show.
"Did you want something?"
"You never responded to my email."
"I didn't realize a response was required. Suing me for my inheritance seemed pretty final. "
"Damnit, Enjolras, I just wanted to talk to you. But you won't answer my calls and you refuse to meet with me. How else was I suppose to get your attention?"
He couldn't be serious, Cosette thought, aghast. That was the reason her brother looked exhausted on his feet and haunted every time he checked his phone? Rage boiled within her, but she bottled it in tightly. Felix seemed to have already forgotten she was there, but Enjolras' grip on her hand was iron-clad. She returned his grip with equal force, letting him know she had no plans to move.
"Well, you certainly have it now." Cosette was amazed at Enjolras' ability to reflect so many emotions with a simple sentence. "Though I can't say it's for the best. Anything else you have to say can be directed to Lamarque. I'm done with you."
"Lamarque?" Felix spat in disbelief. "As if that snake didn't get enough sniffing around Gabrielle. You have no place involving him in anything we discuss."
"The day you dictate who I speak to is the day they lay me to rest for good."
"Enjolras, I am your father--,"
"So biology tells me, but I have my doubts on that."
Growling, Felix took a menacing step forward, and Cosette reacted before she could stop herself. It may have been a completely harmless act, done out of frustration rather than malicious intent, but she was too on edge to consider the difference. She used their linked hands to jerk a surprised Enjolras behind her and dove her free one into her ever faithful purse. Her fingers found the handle almost instantly and Felix froze as the tip of her taser suddenly appeared within inches of his eye.
"Cosette, don't!"
Felix's brilliant blue eyes turned wide with shock, flickering from the tip of the metal prongs to her own slightly irrational face. There was a scuffling sound off to the side and she was vaguely aware of voices yelling from the brownstone porch, but her eyes never left her father's.
"Cosette," Felix breathed. "Oh God, is that really you?"
She nearly shoved the taser into his face for that alone, but Enjolras began slowly walking back, using their linked hands just as she had to take her with him. Her feet followed his lead, but her mouth seemed to have other plans.
"You bastard, you left her all alone--,"
"Cosette--,"
"Did it even bother you that you left her pregnant and alone! She told me you visited, but the only memories I have of you are her crying herself to sleep at night hoping you'd come back!" The taser was shaking in her hands. She dropped it to the ground when the weight beam too much to hold.
"Please, Cosette--,"
"And I had forgiven you," she couldn't stop now, hard as she tried. "I was ready to forgive you and forget you were ever a part of my life, but then I find out I have a brother! You didn't think that was something we needed to know? That we may want to meet each other, regardless of being related by you!?"
She would have kept going, but Enjolras had ripped her around and hugged her close. She buried her face in his chest, holding back sobs as he shielded her.
"You need to leave now," It wasn't Enjolras' voice she heard, but Marius'.
*
Felix put up a fight, obviously more determined than ever to talk with both of his children. But their friends, and especially Marius, all but shoved him into his car and on his way, making sure he was out of sight before retreating into the brownstone.
And, quite suddenly, she and Enjolras found themselves faced with eleven pairs of curious eyes.
"Uh," Cosette really had nothing else for this situation.
"This was going to be a 'where were you all morning' conversation," Jehan started. "Now I'm afraid it's going to be something a lot more serious."
Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. "Roughly translated: what the fuck is this?"
Joly looked between the two of them. "You know, I kind of see it."
"It's just the hair."
"It's not, they have the same eyes too--,"
"Same cheekbones, same build."
"But Enjolras is taller."
"Basic male to female ratio could of told you that, Bossuet."
"Awww, they both have those dimples."
"Ohmygod, matching outfits."
"Jesus, 'Chetta, their not twins."
"You don't know that! It's not like they told us." And there it was. Cosette felt her stomach constrict but Enjolras stepped up beside her, more than ready to play ball.
"Okay," he said firmly. "Everyone not sleeping with one of us, outside, now."
They grumbled and they complained, but they went all the same. Though Grantaire had to grab Marius as he turned to follow the others to the backyard.
"But we haven't--," Marius protested.
"That's not what he meant."
"You not sleeping with him yet?"
"We're taking it slow," Cosette defended. Their relationship was only a week and a half old after all.
Enjolras' lips quirked. "Talk to him. I'll deal with mine."
Cosette wasn't envious; Grantaire didn't look at all happy, what with his crossed arms and the stubborn set of his mouth etching lines into his face. But Enjolras laid a gentle hand on his arm and guided him away a few feet, giving her and Marius their own space.
She couldn't avoid it any longer--she turned to face Marius with an open face, fully expecting to have her heart broken. Only he caught her with gentle eyes and a loving expression.
"What do you want to tell me?" he asked her. Cosette was amazed that there was no judgement or accusation in his voice, only curiosity.
"Felix is my father, as well as his. I found out about it last month. I went to the rally, just to see him. But then I met you, and things got so complicated and I didn't know how to tell you but I couldn't just walk away from you and--,"
Marius cut her off, cupping her face in his hands and brushing his thumb over her lips to silence her.
"Do you love me?"
"With everything I have."
"Then it'll be alright, because I love you too." It was as easy as that. Cosette pressed her lips together to hold back a sudden impulse to cry as Marius hugged her close. He didn't need to know everything as long as he knew she loved him.
Raised voices from the other side of the room caught their attention.
"I don't care about that," Grantaire was saying. "What I want to smother you for is not telling me your father was suing you."
"You heard him, he only wanted--,"
"Did you know that a week ago?"
"…No."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want him to involve you."
"That's bullshit. When my dad threw me out of the house, did I keep that from you? When my ex beat me black and blue and left me on your doorstep because he thought I was cheating on him? When I knew I couldn't keep going, not without drowning, did I keep that from you for your own good? Did I think you were too weak to help me?"
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Enjolras' voice was like ice, his eyes blazing. A storm was well and truly brewing between the two of them now, and Cosette found her fear of that towered over her fear of Felix. She would have stayed rooted in her spot had Marius not taken her hand and led her out the back, closing the door firmly behind them.
She thought she'd be under scrutiny the minute she stepped outside, however most of them were out in the garden, playing in the flowers under the close supervision of Feuilly and Jehan. Only Musichetta and Bahorel were left on the porch, both of them in quiet conversation as she rested her feet in his lap. Their shoes had been tossed into the lawn and a pair of bright red sunglasses were perched on Musichetta's nose.
"That was fast," Bahorel commented as they drew closer.
"There wasn't much to cover."
"There wasn't?"
"Marius doesn't seem to be that concerned about details," Cosette told the porch floor.
"I'll find out when you tell everyone else. I already know everything I need to."
Cosette smiled at him, ignoring Bahorel's eye roll, and the kick Musichetta gave him for it.
"That's wonderful," the other girl told them. "Sit, you can tell us everything."
And Cosette did. She had a feeling she'd be covering this story quite a few times, so she'd best get comfortable telling it now. She only told her side of it though. If Enjolras wanted to add on his own detailed that would be his choice, but she had no right to divulge what he had told her. Bahorel interrupted her when she described the thugs who tried to abduct Marius at the rally.
"They mentioned Gillenormand?"
"Yes."
"So it was your grandfather who put that together," Bahorel's eyes became distant and dangerous, even as Marius' face flushed. Musichetta motioned for her to continue, her easy smile comforting where Bahorel burned.
By the time she finished, the shouting behind the glass had gotten worse. Cosette eyed the door wearily, but the glare of the sun meant she couldn't see much passed their shadowily figures in the living room.
"Don't worry," Musichetta told her. "They'll work it out."
"They sound really angry."
"I'm sure they are. Grantaire has a lot of patience when it comes to Enjolras but even he has his limits. Hell, I kind of want to punch Enj' right now for not telling us Felix was causing problems."
"And if there's one thing Enjolras hates it's being backed into a corner. He's probably had this sitting on him for a while now and it's all just coming down," Bahorel added in.
Cosette hummed, still a little concerned. Marius dropped a kiss onto her forehead and stretched out on their bench, resting his head on her lap and letting his eyes slide closed. Cosette instantly wove her fingers into his hair, combing and petting it this way and that. He groaned and went as limp as an overcooked noodle under her touch.
"Can you cook?" Bahorel asked suddenly. Cosette blinked, thrown by the odd question, and took a minute before nodding.
"Really, Bahorel?" Feuilly chided from his spot in the garden some feet away. Out in the lawn, the others had split up into two teams and were playing what could loosely be described as a soccer game.
"What? With Marius here our chart was balanced. She's gonna throw it off again. At least this way we get can make it a week without repeating."
"I missed something."
"House rules: Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Jehan, 'Ferre, Feuilly and 'Chetta all cook while the rest of us clean. When we add you into the rotation that means we can make it a week before the chart starts over. Someone's gonna get stuck with dish duty twice though."
"Only until 'Fey finds another stray," Musichetta teased, earning her a glare from the man in question out in the lawn. Feuilly's exaggerated sigh let Cosette know this was an well-hashed conversation.
"I may not be staying," she decided to point out. It would only hurt to set unfair expectations.
Bahorel shot her a bemused look.
"You're Enjolras' long lost sister and Marius has already made it clear that he's never leaving your side. Seeing as most of us have a heart attack the minute he's out of our sight…Well, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you're never leaving this house."
"Agreed," Musichetta chimed in. In her lap, Marius grumbled at their description, but didn't say anything against it. However, Cosette still hesitated, shooting a glance to the doors behind her again. She could still hear the occasional raised voice behind the glass.
"Don't worry," Musichetta told her again as she rose from her seat next to Bahorel and settling in on Cosette other side. "They'll be fine."
"They were both really angry," she finally admitted. "And they just…they seem so different."
"Do they?" Musichetta asked, turning to look at the door over her shoulder. "I never thought so."
"Really?"
Musichetta looking at Cosette over her sunglasses.
"You're really worried about them."
"I'm the reason they're fighting." Marius moved to protest, but her fingers in his hair instantly quieted him. She'd have to remember that trick.
"I promise you, darling, you're not. This has been brewing for a while, and today was just the catalyst. But they'll work through it."
"You sound so sure."
"I am. You wanna hear a secret?"
"What kind of secret?"
"The kind that's going to make me sound really creepy after I finish telling you."
Cosette could deal with someone else being awkward for a bit, so she nodded. Musichetta looked around, but Bahorel and Feuilly had fallen into a discussion involving garden renovations they had planned. Marius didn't seem much inclined to move, and Cosette definitely didn't want him to, but he also didn't seem to care much about what was going on around him. Musichetta leaned in close.
"They compliment each other perfectly. Enjolras needed someone who adored him from the first moment. It's never occurred to him that romantic relationships were something he wanted or even needed. So he doesn't date, he doesn't flirt, and he doesn't pursue--not because he doesn't want to but because he doesn't know how. He needed a partner who would love him instantly and unconditionally, not one who was exploring their own feelings while he was doing the same with his. Grantaire has loved him from their first meeting, flaws, faults, temper and all.
"And Grantaire, who has a self destructive streak a mile wide and who doesn't care about anything, needed someone he could climb to when the hole he digs becomes too deep. He doesn't believe he has it in himself to be good, but if someone who loves him believes it, he'll try. And once Grantaire actually cares about something he'll work until the end of time for it. Enjolras' expectations and love keep him sober enough and sane, and in turn his complete devotion to Enjolras keeps our fearless leader stable. They'll be fine--they've worked through worst than this."
"…who are you?"
"A very avid Tetris player."
*
The glass door clicked open behind Cosette some time later, the latch snapping her out of the dazed state she had sunk herself into. In her lap, Marius shifted at the sound of footsteps, nuzzling lightly at her thigh as she slowly scrunched her fingers through his mussed hair. She could taste the slightly bitter bite of sleep in her mouth and there was a dull ache in her neck.
Enjolras settled in beside her as she eased the crick out as much as she could without dislodging Marius. She may be uncomfortable but she wasn't that uncomfortable.
"Okay?" she asked quietly. She didn't see Grantaire anywhere.
Enjolras let out a soft, single laugh leaned back to rest his head against the back of the bench, but nodded all the same.
"I haven't had a fight that intense for quite a while. I forgot how much fun they are."
Cosette didn't quite see the logic there, but for the first time since she'd known him, Enjolras looked relaxed and comfortable in his own skin. While the dark circles under his eyes hadn't diminished, the perpetual wrinkle between his brows had soothed out, and there was a slight smile on his lips as he watched the others play their semi-coharent soccer game.
She had been expecting thunderstorms and barely concealed malice from them both, but what she was getting instead was a mellow peacefulness.
"You enjoyed that?"
"I already know I'm odd."
"Well, I didn't say it." Cosette cast an eye out over the others. "Should we tell them now?"
"Let them finish their game first."
"Game implies organized rules."
"Rules are for institutional conformists."
His smile didn't widen, but the crinkles around his eyes became more pronounced, and Cosette arranged herself so that one of her hands was still imbedded in Marius' hair like a tether while the other entwined itself around Enjolras'.
"You were one of those kids who wrote your name on all your toys, weren't you?" She hadn't heard Grantaire come outside, but he was loaded down with a cup of coffee, which was passed over to Enjolras, and the sketch book that seemed permanently attached to his presence. Enjolras took the coffee in his free hand, set it reverently down at his feet, then snapped his fingers out to snag Grantaire's shirt and drag him down with much less grace. Bringing him close, Enjolras pressed a long kiss on the artist's mouth before reeling him in next to them on the bench. Grantaire stumbled and cursed as he went, but settled in all the same and Enjolras' smile became tinted with a layer of smugness.
Cosette would have taken a dozen pictures of them in that moment, but she had no intentions of releasing anything she was currently attached to. She wondered if she could reach Musichetta with her foot. The other woman was further down the porch, lounging with her elbows on the low steps and her head back to absorb the sun. Bahorel had been drawn into the game earlier but Feuilly had stayed firmly in the garden slightly away from the rest of them, watching them all with simmering contentment.
Out in the field, Jehan had somehow managed to get Courfeyrac pressed into the dirt, laughing as he kept the other pinned down long enough for Joly to get pasted Bahorel and kick the ball into something that resembled a goal. Or out of bounds. Cosette really couldn't tell at this point.
She wondered if she could get them all to her parent's house for dinner one night. She had a feeling her papa would adore them all as much as she did, and come to love Enjolras (and, in time, Marius and Grantaire) as a son as well. And the look on Javert's face at a house full of young people would surely be worth the effort.
Marius shifted in her lap again, and her attention focused in on soothing him back to sleep.
*
Behind her sunglasses, Musichetta was leisurely was surveying her kingdom.
Contrary to what she had told Cosette, she kept a firm eye on Enjolras and Grantaire for the first fifteen minutes or so after they had reappeared. She hadn't been lying when she told the other woman that they were perfect for each other, but when they argued, the heavens trembled at the terror of it. But Enjolras, who was always more physical when he was at ease, was keeping Grantaire firmly at his side. For his part, Grantaire's expressive eyes were calm and tender once again, the raging fire from earlier all but extinct.
Satisfied, she turned toward her other charges. Marius and Cosette…Musichetta knew from the onset they would be inseparable. Marius had been affectionate with all of them, but the levels of devotion he showed Cosette were only paralleled by what she in turn gave him. Musichetta wasn't a firm believer in love at first sight, since she had seen so many relationships flash and petter out under similar circumstances, but those two truly made her wonder if it was possible. Watching them create their own bubble around themselves showed a kind of intimacy that was rare to see in a couple so young.
And while Cosette was undoubtably sweet and kind, was cheerfully adorable and fun-loving, she was also possessive and demanding, just like Enjolras was with Grantaire. Just as he never allowed the artist's attention to wander away from him for more than a few hours, Cosette was as equally dominating of Marius. Really, between that and their startling physical similarities (she hadn't been joking about the matching outfits--she was thinking something red) Musichetta was positively ashamed that she hadn't registered their connection earlier.
However, one thing that wouldn't stop registering was the barely concealed malice on Eponine's face. Musichetta's heart twisted as she observed the brunette hide across the lawn, clearly miserable. Everyone else seemed tied up in Enjolras and Cosette, so she had been left to simmer in silence. That really wouldn't do.
She rose to her feet, shaking out the fluff that had settled in her bones. She had been wanting to have this conversation ever since their newest stray had wondered home, and now was as good of a time as any. She crossed the garden, making sure to stay well out of the game's way.
"Hey, chika," she greeted, bumping shoulders with Eponine. The other woman grunted in return but didn't tear her eyes away from the porch.
"It's a nice day out," Musichetta tried.
"Yeah."
"And the game looks fun. Wanna join?"
"No."
Musichetta sighed; Eponine wasn't making this easy. Time for a more direct approach.
"You can't blame him for finding love when he never knew you were interested."
Eponine's gaze snapped up to stare at her, her eyes fierce. Musichetta met fire with fire, smiling calmingly into the face of Eponine's viciousness.
"I never-,"
"You didn't have to."
"I just…he's so sweet," Eponine whispered. "We could have been…"
Musichetta had her doubts about that. She would never tell someone not to experience a relationship with whomever they desired. People collided all over the place and outcomes couldn't never be fully predicted or controlled. Sometimes she lost the Tetris game. But she knew enough about people--her people--to understand when a relationship wouldn't work. Eponine desired Marius because he was innocent and pure, everything she believed she wasn't. She saw her own redemption in him, and wanted to protect him. But people have been trying to protect Marius for years and he was sick of it. He wanted adventures and challenges, wanted to explore the world. And Cosette wanted to be at his side every step of the way.
Eponine, though, she had wanted to burn the world down when they had first crossed paths, just like Feuilly had. But while Feuilly had been angry and voiceless, she had been hurt and bitter. Even now, after so much evidence to the contrary, Musichetta knew she still sometimes felt like an outsider. She needed someone who was stable and low maintenance, someone who wouldn't pressure her or make demands that she wasn't yet able to fulfill. Someone who was smart enough to understand her point-of-view but confident enough to challenge her at it.
Marius wouldn't be that for her. But Eponine didn't want to hear that, so Musichetta instead hugged her closed despite the heat and allowed her support to show through her actions.
Combeferre kept glancing at them between lulls in the game, concerned and obviously debating coming over. Musichetta shook her head at him in warning; Eponine was too raw to deal with more than one of them at the moment. Musichetta had always thought the two of them would do so well together, but she wanted them to last. If Eponine treated Combeferre like a rebound rather than a serious partner, all the work she had put into them both would be for not. They would both be miserable, and if there was one thing Musichetta couldn't stand it was seeing someone she loved be miserable. Grantaire had been more than enough on that front, thank you very much.
So instead, she turned her concentration solely on Eponine, because they all deserved to be happy in the end, to win the game. And Musichetta had no problem cheating to make sure that happened.