I'd wait for you

I'd slave for you

I'd be a beggar or a knave for you

If that isn't love it'll have to do

Until the real thing comes along

Cosette found Enjolras unconscious, laying beside Marius' dead body on the blood-soaked, cobblestone street outside the cafe. After finally finding his faint heartbeat, she took him back to her home and asked her father if they could look after the fallen revolutionary. Valjean vaguely recognized the poor boy, he was that battered and beaten. But he could not deny his daughter's plea. He was overcome with guilt, disappointed that he failed as a father to shield his precious lark from this recent tragedy. She had already had a difficult childhood and he hoped he could prevent such hurt from ever touching her again. He knew now that the only way Cosette could deal with her personal grief of losing Marius was through doing what she did best, and that was caring for people. She had already been caring for him as he aged, his hair turning white, bones growing weaker. Now what she needed was a fresh charge to distract her.

And so she played the doting nurse, lavishing her attention on both young man and ailing father.

Enjolras was in bad condition after the revolution; physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and every other way. His grandiose dreams were dashed and destroyed and so, it seemed, was his soul, his very reason for existence gone. All he wanted was to waste away, to slowly, painfully die and join his brothers - the young, brave, and faithful children of the revolution who died (in vain) to see his dreams come true. All his fault. He deserved to die. Or deserved to live, to be tormented by his past, by his friends' ghosts, for the rest of his life. And so, day after day, he swayed between wanting to kill himself as punishment or stay living as penance. Some days he wasn't sure which was worse.

To make matters even more complicated, he was now at the mercy of a strange gentleman and his songbird of a daughter. This strange creature that came in every morning and evening to check on him, humming a song with every step. She had introduced herself as Cosette and it wasn't until a few days later, once his excruciating headache had gone away, that he recognized her as Marius' lover. His heart sank heavily in his chest as the realization came to him that she was also scarred by this revolution, both of them trying desperately to recover, like two dogs licking their wounds. His recovery was slower, stagnated by a cloud of depression and sense of helplessness. He hated being at the mercy of anybody but he could not leave, much less get up from his bed on his own. So he rested, week after week, with Cosette's songs bringing in each dawn and announcing each dusk.

I'd lie for you

I'd sigh for you

I'd tear the stars down from the sky for you

If that isn't love, it will have to do

Until the real thing comes along

When he was finally able to walk around, with the help of a cane, he limped over to Valjean's chambers, hoping to finally thank and repay the kind man for taking him in. Whereas Enjolras was growing stronger and healthier with each passing day, Valjean, already past his prime, was growing weaker.

"What's the prognosis, my dear boy?" Valjean coughed, a tired smile on his face. He had hired his personal physician to do double duty and care for Enjolras as he recovered.

"For you or I?" Enjolras said with a dry laugh, unable to shake the heaviness in his heart.

"I know my own," Valjean said with a sad look in his eyes. Enjolras could no longer meet his gaze. "How much longer until you are back to planning more revolutions?"

"Oh, I haven't stopped." Enjolras couldn't help grinning, looking much like a mischievous school boy. "I've been doing a lot of thinking and planning. Not much else to do while being bedridden for so long."

"And so? What are your plans after you leave?" Valjean asked. Enjolras bit his lip, hesitating.

"I'm going to finish law school." He stood up straighter; well, as straight as he could without hurting his knee. "I'm going to be a politician." He said matter-of-factly. There was the confidence, the burning flame that once again fueled his words. If he was determined to enter the political realm, no one in the world could doubt he would, not even Valjean. He nodded his approval at the young man.

"A far better way to implement the sort of change you're envisioning."

"I think so too, monsieur." Enjolras didn't know how much he needed to hear this man's approval. Something his own father had never given him growing up. "I came to thank you for your indelible hospitality. You have saved my life."

"Not I. It was Cosette who first found you. It was she who begged me to house you." Valjean eyed him, studying the determination in his eyes. "A worthy investment we've made, I think."

"I shall strive to do better, to do more with my life, monsieur. If not for myself, than on your behalf."

"No doubt you will." Valjean smiled.

"If there is any way I can repay you, any way at all, just name it."

"There is one thing I'll ask of you." The old man sighed heavily, pausing before he continued. "I don't have many years left. I suspect my time is coming soon and I've been preparing myself for the departure."

"Sir-" Enjolras stepped closer, but Valjean held his hand up to silence him.

"The one thing I cannot do is ready my dear Cosette for my death. She will be devastated." Tears were brimming in his eyes. "I will miss her so."

Enjolras watched on as the man collected himself and continued.

"I will be leaving behind a great fortune for her so she shall not want for anything. But even so, you understand the society we live in. She is not safe without a husband to look after her, to provide security for her." He looked up at Enjolras and suddenly he understood.

"You're entrusting me with your daughter?" The young man questioned, his voice quiet with gravity. Valjean slowly nodded.

"I shall try to live long enough for you to finish school, so you can at least start your career."

"That shouldn't take more than a year."

"After which, I'm afraid Cosette will be left alone in this empty house. Someone will come find you and notify you of my passing. I'm sure you'll know what to do from there."

Enjolras mulled over his words.

"You think she'll say yes to me?" He asked the old man. Valjean furrowed his brows, squinting his eyes as if trying to see into Enjolras' soul.

"Tell me, my boy, have you ever been in love?"

Enjolras frowned, confusion over his face.

"No...can't say I have."

"Do you think you'll ever fall in love with someone?" Valjean asked further.

"To be honest with you, monsieur, I think that is something God has not intended for me. I've never had much interest for romance or love. Unless, of course, you count in my love for Patria."

Valjean chuckled.

"Then you're perfect. Cosette will make a good wife. You'll never meet anyone more kind-hearted or compassionate or," here he laughed again, "or more strong-willed. She will be a faithful companion… Besides, her heart has been shattered by Marius' death. I don't believe she'll ever open herself up to love someone that way again." He said sorrowfully.

This seemed to seal the deal for Enjolras, since he wasn't really looking for a romantic companion. He didn't want to deny Cosette that chance, though, either. But if Valjean was promising that she wouldn't ever love again, perhaps an amicable union between the two of them could be made after all.

"I shall do all that you ask. Your Cosette will be cared for and protected under my watch."

"Thank you, my boy. You've no idea the weight you've lifted off my shoulders. Just do me one more favor. Please don't mention any of this to her. Not until I pass away."

"You have my word, monsieur."

Valjean smiled weakly and waved Enjolras away, keeping a giant secret hidden in the depths of his soul. Maybe it was wrong of him to keep it from the young man, but if all went according to plan, they would gradually come to find it out on their own.

He was Adam incarnate,

truly the first of his kind,

handcrafted by God Himself,

gilded with courage,

adorned with flaming passion,

lips speaking the language of angels,

with all the confidence and assurance of a Greek demigod.

So when Eve came,

all sweetness and gentleness in her face,

the soft earth bending underneath her feet,

grace as natural to her as breathing,

he was not intimidated.

At least not at first.

They were of the same kind,

only, Eve was made for loving and she loved generously.

If not Adam, then she would love all of nature and life around her.

Adam found it more difficult to recognize his need for her,

so used to living on his own,

walking the ground alone.

If only he knew what God knew when He sent Eve.

That Adam was still incomplete

And Eve was on assignment.

That she was the completion.

Valjean's great secret was that he knew Cosette would once again love. And he hoped her love would be enough to melt Enjolras' heart of stone.