He rises with him, his volume matching Javert's, his tone derisive.

'No. Not until we've settled this. Again you are wrong, Javert. I know what it is to be weak. I am well aware that it is the easier path. You would rather beat yourself bloody against the iron cage of your will than relent, for one moment, and accept even the simplest act of kindness.'

Much less accepting the whole of what he'd offered in that moment, that one perfect moment when he'd loved Javert as much as he'd ever loved anything. The ache in his chest is still there, a band of iron thorns around his heart.

'And you are no victim here. You came here of your own free will.'