To say that the water pours down around them is to grossly understate the matter, and yet Jack has no other words. Even Stephen would have no words, for the intricacies of wind and weather fall outside of his domain.
It matters not, for Stephen is gone to the rocks, weak, virtually alone.
Tears could fall; with the rain falling on his face they should go unnoticed, save when he would taste them. Then tears and rain would make a mockery of memory, salt on Stephen's skin.
Jack puts his hand to his face so he can breathe without choking.