The birth of their only child changes their lives again...
"Does it hurt?" she asked Juliette, who was a young wife and mother much like herself, "the birth?"
Juliette looked at her sympathetically, putting a cold flannel to her mistress's forehead.
"I will not lie, Madame; it hurts much." Sophia tightened her grip on Juliette's hand, until a surge of pain went through her. She screamed, bolting forwards, her hands clutching her thirty eight week bump, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Etienne!" she screamed. Luckily for her, those screams were not in vain, for within the hour, Javert was by her side, clasping her hand.
But as the birth went longer into the night, and Sophia was screaming at Javert because he was the one who got her pregnant in the first place, he sat outside, head in hands. He was, in his own way, praying to God that his young wife would survive the birth. When the clock chimed five in the morning and Sophia's screams were no more, yet a faint little cry could be heard. Javert finally rose from his place on the floor, his back against the wall. A relieved looking Juliette came out, a smile on her face.
"Oh Monsieur!" she breathed, "it's a little girl!" A smile broke out on Javert's face- a genuine smile- and he opened the door, Juliette following her mistress's husband. Sophia was resting, a small bundle in her arms.
"We have a daughter, Etienne," she said brightly, but he could hear exhaustion in her voice. He pulled over the chair by her vanity table and sat down. He looked down at the child, crying softly into her mother's breast. His daughter. A dusting of dark hair- Javert knew she was his. He marveled at this small life that Sophia had carried for nearly nine months, the tiny pink fingers, delicately curled into a ball. Her head was resting on Sophia's milk-heavy breast. She moved to hand him the baby.
"What if I drop her?" he asked her.
"No you won't," the midwife told him. The couple had forgotten that she had even been there.
"See, Etienne," Sophia said in a I-told-you-so tone.
"All new fathers are worried they will drop their firstborn." Sophia handed him the baby, and first it seemed awkward, but he gradually felt more comfortable with his firstborn in his arms. It was the first time Javert actually felt he had truly accomplished something. He had successfully sired a child. And now this little life dependend on him.
"What shall we call her?" he asked her.
They were now a family of three: Inspector Etienne Javert, Madame Sophia Alicia Javert and little Adele-Renee Javert, who was born onSeptember 1st 1822