"Why was I so stupid?" Jean kicks the wall in rage.
It's 856. Six years since I died, and here he is, still beating himself up over it.
"I'm sorry, Marco," he says. Tears cloud his eyes, and it's only seconds until they spill over onto the floor.
I smile. "It's not your fault," I say, "please know that."
But he can't hear me. Yet, I still want him to know.
"If I'd just killed that titan, you'd still be here," he cries, "with me." This brings on another round of sobbing.
"Stop," I say, feeling my eyes watering. "I hate seeing you in pain." Unable to bear it, I walk over and wrap my arms around him. As his crying gradually subsides, I start to wonder if he feels me.
"I love you, Jean," I whisper, "and I'll always be at your side, even if you don't know it."
We stand like this for an eternity, me listening to his thoughts. He's angry. At himself, the titans, at the world. But there's also a part of him that knows I'm still here.