Work Text:
Papa has always taught me that There are no weeds, and no worthless men. There are only bad farmers. I have always believed such. Once I was a little girl many, many years ago, he and I watched as convicts chained into one line limped on their way out on the streets, and I asked”
“Are they even men?”
“Papa had this look on his face, one that spoke of pain and hesitation, it seemed like he didn’t want to answer it but he did
“Sometimes”
And we left to go home
Papa didn’t speak for a while after that.
Do not fault me, I love my father, he is the best in my life and always will be. But since that humid morning, I wished to know what made him pale in horror and disgust. To himself or to them, I did not know
Years went by, I grew older and so did he, I grew happier and I suppose, so did he. I met the love of my life, Marius Pont mercy, and I was happy, Papa was decidedly, not happy with that. But soon I had learned that he approved of us, I will never stop being thankful to him for that. And even so, after revelations and tribulations, I had never stopped asking what was that Papa was so horrified about those convicts chained into one.
Jean Valjean
That was his name. My Father’s true name
How did I know you may ask?
Monsieur l'inspecteur
I had met the man when my father snuck out in the evening and retreated to his small home with him. At the time I didn’t know that Papa had a friend, I was surprised but was happy for him, but I was also curious about the nature of their relationship. When the man said that he had met my father many many years go, my curiosity strengthened. Papa had so rarely said anything of his past and I wanted to learn more. But was gently shut down but both of them. They were similar in some sense and I could see why they would become friends in the first place.
Javert was his name, an inspector, unusual that my father would be friends with the police at the time when I had remembered that he didn’t like to associate himself with them.
I do not want to go into detail about how it came to be, children, but I had learned about my father’s past when he was on the brink of death. He was... so ready to leave. He was smiling when he had told me about my mother, I was panicked at the time, I thought I was going to lose my father. I wasn’t ready. But God bestowed a miracle on us and the inspector bursts into the convent going on a rant and my papa went pale at his sight, looking more alive than he was before.
There. Papa held into life as I read the letter, he had given to me by the Inspector’s course instructions, there I have learned his name, the 19 winters he had served his time, how he had broken parole and how he became a mayor, and how my mother died for me. The Inspector retorts with how he had wronged my father, and that he’s trying to make it up. After so which, we sent him to the hospital to get treated.
Life had become better for Papa since then. And I had seen him a new light, my father is still my father of course but the Jean Valjean in him was prominent than ever. Jena Valjean had lived a hard life and yet, he enjoys pruning, he enjoys talking walks by the garden and observing the flowers, he now enjoys keeping birds in his garden!
And I suppose one other person knows those things too
The Inspector was always with him, even when he didn’t know so. He laughed with him, walked with him, helped him in the garden, and I suppose cried with him as well. Jean Valjean looked at the Inspector as if he was an angel sent down from heaven, as if he was his light of the world.
In the same way I looked at Marius
I always knew that my papa has been different, he did not indulge in courtship, not in women at least, nor had he ever been interested in showing anything to another. I knew it was because of his past and that he’s been hiding for so long, but Papa looks at the Inspector as if he was all he could ever ask for.
Whatever the matter is. I am happy for them; I shouldn’t interfere with his life in the way he doesn’t mine. Being in love with a man may be a sin in the church but...
With a love that heavy and joyful, I don’t think it’s a sin at all.
