Chapter Text
Not even the frigid November chill was capable of convincing Grantaire that storming out of second period to go get shitfaced in a parking lot without even grabbing his jacket wasn’t necessary. Objectively, Grantaire knew it wasn’t a good idea to get drunk on a Tuesday morning, but good ideas had always been Enjolras’s forte, not his.
The nearest convenience store which Grantaire could be reasonably sure sold alcohol was only about a block away so Grantaire’s anger had not subsided in the slightest by the time he pushed through its creaky glass door. He headed straight to the back, grabbed a bottle of vodka, and made his way to the cashier. Grantaire desperately hoped some young college student would be working that day but of course God couldn’t even grant him that wish. So he found himself face to face with the owner of the store whose mistrust was clear as day even when Grantaire pulled out his fake ID.
A slight flutter of hope filled Grantaire’s mind when the man didn’t immediately accuse him of lying but the hope vanished as quickly as it had come when the man did not return his ID, and instead told him to put the bottle back and sit tight till the cops got here. Grantaire’s stomach dropped and he could taste the bile rising from his throat but did as the man instructed. Despite his desire to bolt through the door before the police arrived, he knew it was a useless idea given the ID had a picture of him on it.
All too soon, Grantaire heard the door open and the soft murmur of conversation between the cop and the store owner. Suddenly, his bicep was enveloped in a vicelike grip as he found himself hoisted off the chair he’d been sitting in and dragged towards the exit. It seemed unusually harsh, even for a cop, but part of him felt like he deserved it so he kept his mouth shut, instead glancing up to see which cop he’d pissed off this time. As soon as Grantaire recognized the cop as Javert he attempted to wrench his arm free from his grip and run but he was unsuccessful. Javert’s grip was unyielding, just like everything else about him.
Javert finally looked down at him, and if Grantaire was a better person, the disappointment evident on his face might have been enough to make him feel guilty. As it was, Grantaire was in no mood for a lecture on how idiotic his behavior was.
“Look I get it, I shouldn’t have left school to go and get drunk.” Grantaire paused for a second, trying to think of an excuse Javert would accept. Ultimately, he knew nothing he could say would justify it so he simply promised, “I won’t do it again. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened.”
Javert sighed beside him. “I will certainly not be letting you go just so you can make another foolish decision the second you think you’re out of my sight.”
Grantaire hated that Javert was probably right.
“You are going to get in the car and I am going to drive you home so we can discuss your utterly irresponsible behavior.” said Javert firmly, fixing Grantaire with a stern stare that silenced his protests before they could materialize on his lips, “You may want to use the car ride to think of a suitable explanation to give my husband.”
Grantaire paled, “you aren’t seriously planning on telling Jean about this?”
“Of course not. I expect you to tell him yourself,” responded Javert evenly.
Grantaire nearly resorted to begging at this point but he knew it would be no use against Javert’s stubborn determination so he allowed himself to be led to the car.
The car ride could not be described as a pleasant one, given how white Javert’s knuckles were against the black of the steering wheel, but honestly Grantaire had expected worse. There hadn’t been any yelling yet and Javert didn’t seem as though he was going to tell Grantaire to stop being around Cosette anymore, though Grantaire wouldn’t have judged him if he did. It wasn’t fair to expect his friends to keep catching him when he inevitably fell apart, they deserved so much better than Grantaire could ever offer them.
The sudden stillness of the car shocked Grantaire from his overwhelming internal crisis as he mechanically got out of the car and followed Javert inside the cherry red door which opened to the foyer of Jean’s home. Javert guided the younger man to the living room wherein they found Jean Valjean leafing through a botany book, a serene expression on his face.
Jean heard the sound of footsteps and raised his head to meet Javert’s eyes, some form of wordless communication passing between them. Then Jean placed a bookmark in his book, walked towards the pair still standing awkwardly in the entrance, and pulled Grantaire into a tight embrace.
Whatever response Grantaire had been expecting, this certainly wasn’t it. Obviously he knew Jean likely wouldn’t react in the same ways his parents normally did, but it was still shocking to discover that some parents truly did care, not just because they had to. The tears he had been holding back since that morning began to overflow and suddenly he was crying like a child. His parents would have called him pathetic but Jean didn’t seem to mind, he merely stroked Grantaire’s hair gently, as though he still deserved comfort after ruining everything once again.
They stood like that for some time before the guilt became too much for Grantaire to bear and he removed himself from Jean’s embrace. He met Jean’s eyes for the first time since coming into the home, expecting some kind of reproach, but finding nothing other than warmth. Jean motioned for Grantaire to sit down on an armchair across from Javert while he excused himself to grab drinks for all of them.
“How much do you think he’s going to hate me once he finds out why I’m here?” Asked Grantaire, desperately hoping his voice remained somewhat steady.
Javert looked at him silently for a moment before responding. “My husband has never given up on someone just because they’ve made a mistake. God knows if he had, we wouldn’t be married today. And while I may not know you as well as Jean does, I’m not planning on giving up either.”
At that moment, Jean returned carrying a tray with tea and coffee with him. He placed the tray down gently before pushing a mug and a biscuit towards Grantaire.
“As much as I welcome any visit from you Grantaire, I must say I’m a bit confused given it’s a Tuesday and you should be in school,” enquired Jean.
Sensing there was no escaping the conversation, Grantaire told him what happened. The second he began to speak, the floodgates opened and he confessed the entire story. He talked about how his parents had left for another business trip and how his teacher had gotten upset at him because his parents didn’t respond to her emails and she thought Grantaire must have gotten rid of them somehow. Then he got to the part about the liquor store and even confessed that he knew it was wrong but he didn’t usually have anyone who stopped him from doing things that were wrong. He didn’t know why he shared quite so freely, maybe he needed some type of absolution, or maybe he had just never been around adults who seemed so willing to listen.
Once he was done recounting his morning, he felt shame rise in his chest, suffocating him slowly. Why did these two care so much? He wasn’t there son, he was just Cosette’s fucked up friend. He had to stop letting others fix his problems, he needed to be an adult. He was so lost in a trance of his own thoughts, that he did not realize he had said the last sentence out loud.
Jean looked at him, confusion evident on his face, “R, it’s okay to need help to work through your problems. Especially when you are young. I know you might feel like you have to be an adult, but you’re sixteen. Let the adults who love you, help you.”
“You don’t have too though. You don’t have to love me. You have Cosette and each other, please don’t let a fuck up like me ruin..”
Javert cut him off before he could finish, “you don’t get to decide who we choose to love. We don’t have to care about you because of Cosette, we care because you are hard not to like Grantaire. Even when you make stupid mistakes like today”
“But what if it’s not me making stupid mistakes?” Grantaire pressed, “what if I’m the mistake.”
Jean responded resolutely, “you are not a mistake Grantaire. Stop trying to push us away because I guarantee, even teenage stubbornness can’t match an old man like me’s stubbornness.”
Despite himself, Grantaire felt a small smile pull at his lips and he was not fully successful in suppressing it.
Jean continued, “don’t think this conversation is finished yet. I think the three of us still need to have a serious talk about your drinking habits these days. However, I know this is hard for you R, so why don’t we leave it be for now.”
Grantaire was already dreading the follow up conversation but he knew he owed it to them, maybe he even owed it to himself, so he nodded in agreement.
Javert suggested Grantaire take a nap in the guest room since he looked exhausted and Grantaire was never one to turn down a chance to sleep. Javert walked with him to the guest room despite him having been to their house countless times before.
Just before Grantaire drifted off into dreamless sleep for the first time in several days, he heard Javert whisper so softly he might have imagined it. But still he knew what he heard. Javert had told him “you’re a good kid Grantaire.”