A/N: Heyyyyy, new chapter is here, guys, and I have to admit, I cried my eyes out while writing it. It''s the early hours of July 26th here, the day that would have been Sasha's birthday. The manga has come to an end after some INSANE final chapters, and the finale had me absolutely satisfied (and you're free to PM me anytime to discuss the manga or the anime with me). MAPPA Studio has done an AMAZING job with the final season too so far, and I'm sooooo hyped for Part 2 already.
: I KNOOOOW, these babies have suffered so much (and Jean-boy really can't catch a break!). I'm so happy you like the story so much, and adoring it while it hurts is my MOOD with this fic
ResistingFate: Another amazing review from you, I really enjoy your analysis! And yep, you're absolutely right, Sasha knew Jean would blame himself for everything, and that made her feel worse! As for Grior, he's struck me as a character who bluntly expresses himself without caring who he might hurt, so I could see him openly undermining Sasha and Jean being aware of it.
Guest: THANK YOU SO MUCH! Here's the update, hope you'll like it too.
ddeokbxkkii: The fact that you read all chapters at once still drives me crazy, you, my friend, deserve a freaking medal! And no, you're absolutely right, Jean NEEDS to break down over everything he suppresses, I really hope he burst out after seeing Sasha again *not saying when and where because spoilers for anime-onlys* Hope you'll enjoy the new chapter too.
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains potential triggers, such as mention of suicidal thoughts, so please, if you feel uncomfortable or triggered by this, skip to the middle of the chapter or skip it entirely, if you're more comfortable with that.
This fic also contains SPOILERS from the manga, especially, so if you haven't read the final arc of the manga, be warned.
The title of this chapter is the title of the song The night we met by Lord Huron, one of my favorite songs and inspirations ever, which also featured in the 13 Reasons Why TV series.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Attack on Titan universe and characters, or the series 13 Reasons Why, which inspired this fic
"You knew…"
"Jean…"
"You knew!"
"Jean."
"You knew, you knew it was my fault, that's why you told me to come here when I'd reach my letter!"
"Oi, when did we say something about it being your fault?"
"I-I left Sasha. I left her there; she needed me, she needed me to lean on, me to talk to, and I just walked away!"
"Jean, you did what she told you to do, no one is blaming you for anything."
"Well, I do!" Jean shrieks, Hanji's attempts at comfort and Levi's attempts to make him see reason bouncing off him. "Because I just abandoned her, all alone at the seashore, because I was scared and angry. I thought I wasn't good enough to stay with her, that I would scare her more, that I was unworthy of her trust, simply because I am a hothead who is freaking useless at feelings and communication!"
"So, what, that makes everything your fault?"
"I left her! I knew I shouldn't have left her, but I did, and she felt so alone, so helpless, she felt there was no other way for her but to keep everything a secret, and that Marley would kill her, and…and then she did get killed and it all started with me not staying with her!"
"Whoa, Jean, take a breath right there! Why do you keep thinking everything is your responsibility? You didn't place that gun in Gabi's hand, and Sasha got shot so fast that no one could have done anything!"
"No, but I lowered my guard! I left her on the beach instead of staying with her…and if I had stayed I would have known about her past and I would have tried to understand while she was still alive and maybe we wouldn't have reached this point, maybe—"
He is shaking. Everything in him is shaking with a whirlwind of revelations and a storm of emotions, the letter clumsily thrown on the seat next to him; a lifeless object unaware of the consequences it has brought. Hell, Jean doesn't even know whether he's actually physically shaking. Right now he can't control his body, his reactions…time has stopped and has thrown him straight into a void where only guilt and grief has place to exist.
He knows he is reacting worse now than the night Sasha died. But after a month of trying to hold on for the sake of his regiment, and after days of trying to figure out everything these letters want to relay him, his own letter brings the outburst he has been suppressing for so long.
He has lowered his head, which is now resting against the palm of his right hand, while his left one is balled in so tight a fist that he can almost feel his nails digging in his skin. The physical pain, though, matters little to him compared to the emotional one; he's overcome by waves of despair and guilt, trapped in this vicious circle of tragedy, and it's like the walls of Hanji's office are suffocating him. The tears he hasn't shed until now run down his cheeks, wetting his hand, but for once he doesn't have the strength or the self-control to feel embarrassed about his outburst.
"Jean…" Hanji's voice barely reaches his ears, sharp and yet with a motherly tone; she's trying to comfort him and at the same time make clear that no one is blaming him. "What could you have controlled? She asked you to leave, and you left."
"I left because she asked me to, yes, not because I wanted to. I sensed I should have stayed with her, but I didn't because I'm a useless coward who always hesitates before making a decision!" Jean shakes his head, not wanting to hear her consolations.
He recalls his letter; how Sasha told him she wouldn't want him to blame himself…as if she knew he would react that way. Which she probably did given how well she knew him, hence her persistence that it was all on her, that her pushing him away that day at the ocean and keeping everything a secret was only her responsibility.
Even thinking of her in the past tense hurts him immensely, and he leaves a low, desperate whine as he buries his head deeper in his hands, like he wants to forget, to faint, to go anywhere in order to escape these feelings that make him think he can't breathe. Right now, even the thought of the ocean is appealing to him; the same ocean that holds the memory of that day, Sasha's outburst in his arms and his own cowardice as he left her alone to struggle with her tears. The thought of the still waters that surround Paradis Island and protect the mysteries of this cruel world…The same waters that brought him so much joy when he first discovered them…The thought of these waters swallowing him just like they swallowed Sasha's pain back then.
"You couldn't know, so will you stop beating yourself up over it?" Levi snaps in an attempt to ground him back to reality, though he is well aware than anything he or Hanji say are falling on deaf ears.
"Why?" Jean sobs, his mind still conjuring thoughts of the sea, cold and black under the night sky, beautiful and dangerous at the same time, enveloping the island and the whole world…its waters cleansing everything and taking away the grief, the guilt, the burden of the world that weighs on his shoulders, the pain of the loss of the girl he had feelings for, the same girl he left alone at her time of need. "Why shouldn't I just…throw myself into the ocean, let go of everything?"
"Jean, what are you talking about?"
"And what, die? Reunite with Sasha forever?" Levi snaps at him, his voice now holding both anger and urgency as he says anything that will make Jean's thoughts clear even for a bit. "Do you really think you could have done anything to change the course of things? What does that make you, some kind of God?"
"She says it in the letter herself, Captain! If I had stayed with her, if I had asked her one more time what was happening, she would have opened up to me! She would have told me everything, she wouldn't have felt so desperate like she did that day…She would have…"
She would have confessed something else too.
That's what the letter says and it makes Jean dizzy as he thinks about it, makes him wonder if she means what he thinks she means. If she would have said that maybe…just maybe…
Even the mere suspicion makes his head hurt worse, his despair more intent, his qualms insufferable, his mind sinking more and more in thoughts about the ocean waters. Because if that's truly the case, he gave up way more than the chance to learn about Sasha's past that day at the sea shore; he also gave up the chance of having moments filled with happiness and tenderness, of sharing the good side of life with Sasha, of soothing her demons by showing her that their lives could be so much more than secrets and a troubled past, of soothing his own demons by having someone he genuinely cares about by his side, someone who would understand and help him while keeping him on his toes at the same time.
If he had stayed, they would have been together. They would have started something new, something to give both of them hope; they would have had something good in their lives in the middle of the cycle of war and revenge and intrigue.
But nothing of this happened because he was a coward and left her instead of staying with her and allowing her to pour her heart out to him.
"I should have stayed with Sasha."
"Jean, she told you to go." Hanji states, but now she is not the composed Commander; the tone of her voice is sad, her healthy eye clouded as she's looking at Jean bending forward in his seat. "You did what she wanted you to do, you respected her need to stay alone."
"No. No, I'm not sure she wanted me to go. She probably said it because…because she didn't want me to carry the burden of her revelations. And I was afraid, and stupid, and didn't insist!" Jean whispers brokenly, clutching his head in both his hands, a replica of how he reacted when Sasha got shot and he helplessly turned his back to her, unable to watch her bleeding on the cold ground of the blimp.
"She told you to go away, and you didn't want to pressure her by staying."
"No. No, I could have told her I wasn't going anywhere, I could have stayed, and make her see it was okay to talk to me, then I would have been able to help her."
"But you listened to her, you listened to her telling you that she would be alright."
"It doesn't matter. I could have stayed, I could have said I'm not going, I could have said that I wouldn't leave her until she told me what was wrong!"
"Jean, truly, it's fine, just a bad moment." Sasha insists and even shoves his arm gently as if forcing him to stand up and leave. "Go back, leave me here!"
"No way! No, I'm not leaving you alone!" Jean replies intensely, his gaze locked to hers, observing every last detail; her hazel eyes glossy with tears that run down her face and stain her cheeks, her pale skin, her trembling, and he feels torn in two. "Not until you tell me what's wrong!"
He wants to listen to her, respect her wish to be left on her own, but seeing her like this makes his despair only grow. He may not be the best at communication, he may be blunt to a fault and not know how to best comfort someone, but the way Sasha looks and acts right now makes him want to stay by her side, to hold her again if that's what she needs, to make her see that, whatever she's going through, she doesn't have to handle it alone.
Sasha's eyes widen at his declaration, clearly not expecting his response. Her surprise only adds to this feeling of helpless despair, making him feel even more useless; it's like Sasha's hurt and her broken expression hurts him both emotionally and physically, and he doesn't even know what hurts him more: the fact that he doesn't know the cause of her anguish, or the fact that, apparently, there is nothing he can do to help?
"Jean, I told you to leave, you can go back to the others."
"No. No, I'm not going, I'm not leaving you like that."
"There's nothing you can do, leave me alone!"
"No! You can ask me a hundred time to go, and I'll answer a hundred times that I'm not going anywhere."
"You don't want to have this conversation with me. So go away." Sasha says again, this time turning her back to him and locking her gaze to the scenery around them and the storm clouds in the sky.
She's creating more distance between them and making Jean miss their earlier hug, when he held her and was contemplating telling her everything he has in mind, every single feeling he has developed for her, anything to make her see some light in the midst of her emotional torment.
Now that she has her back towards him, though, and he can see her trembling shoulders and her slumped back, Sasha a broken figure with the stormy sky a morbid background, Jean feels truly and utterly useless. Everyone keeps telling him what a capable leader he is, how he can assess every situation and form a solid plan, yet right now his leadership in battle means nothing; it's a lie, more than that, it's the last thing that matters.
Because this may be a battle, yet a battle that seems to torture Sasha's mind, her soul; hell, her own existence.
And this battle, Jean thinks with panic, is a battle he is not sure how to face. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do in order to bring Sasha back from the darkness her thoughts have sunken into.
In the end, it's this knowledge that's the most painful for him.
"Sasha…" He tries again, even reaching out, trying to carefully put a hand on her shoulder, though she jolts away as if struck by lightning.
"I said leave me alone!" She shrieks, her tone reaching a volume Jean never thought he'd ever hear from her. "Get the hell away from here, go!"
"Okay!" Jean rebukes this time, feeling like he's at his limit himself, but then he can't help but continue in a calmer tone. "Okay, I'll go. But first tell me what's happening. Please, Sasha, just talk to me."
Sasha shakes her head for a few moments without replying, lost in the dark tunnel she has slipped in, absolute in her drowning feeling of despair. Now Jean feels the urge to hug her again, to stay here with her without the need to talk; just the two of them hugging under the stormy sky, but the way Sasha has locked herself from the world doesn't allow him to bask in this thought.
"You'd hate me afterwards, Jean. Believe me, you wouldn't want to be with me if I talked to you now."
"You don't know that. It's not up to you to decide. Because I would, Sasha, I really would." The young Scout says softly, grasping the chance to start pouring out everything he has in mind, everything he wants to say, everything to assure Sasha that she can talk to him without fearing his reaction.
Only that his response triggers the exact opposite reaction, for Sasha turns abruptly back towards him, her face now a mask of pure anguish and something else, something very alike to anger, as if she's challenging him to repeat what he just said.
"No, YOU don't know that, Jean!" She snaps at him, almost as if they have travelled back in time, back when they used to bicker even for the stupidest reasons. "And besides, it would be easy for you, right? Because YOU are not the traitor here!"
"Don't say that about yourself."
"But it's the truth, Jean. Everyone will say so. And so will you when you learn everything."
"No. No, I wouldn't."
Jean's voice is oddly calm given the circumstances; and he feels anything but calm in the first place, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to transfer this to his voice too. All he cares about at this moment is that Sasha believes him; that he passes the message that he's here, and he cares more than he's dared to admit even to himself.
And the words just pour out. As if Sasha's despair has brought him to his own limits too, and everything he's kept hidden so carefully over the years, now flow freely for Sasha to hear.
"Sasha, I know I behave like a jerk, sometimes without wanting it. And I've treated you poorly in the past, and you can't imagine how sorry I am for that. But I'm here, and I want to be here because I love you, Sasha."
That last confession, coming spontaneously and yet lifting a burden from Jean's shoulders; so much that he feels small tears dwelling in his eyes. He doesn't know if they're tears of relief, or happiness, or fear for Sasha's reaction, and quite frankly, now that he has said it out loud, he finds out it doesn't matter to him.
"I'm here. And I'm not planning on leaving." He softly continues, his voice now slightly cracking up from the intensity of the emotions overwhelming them both. "And even if you think that you have something to tell me, something that will make me angry, I'll still be here, and I'll listen to anything you want to say. And what I just said…I mean it too."
Sasha remains silent as he speaks, looking at him with her tearful gaze, her hazel eyes widened in surprise at seeing him open up so freely about his feelings. Her expression a mix of sadness and hope, like she desperately wants to believe him, yet like there' something holding her back from responding to his confession. A confession Jean doesn't hesitate to repeat, his tone still soft and loving, and he cherishes the words, hoping they will manage to reach the girl next to him too.
"I love you, Sasha."
Sasha keeps looking at him for some seconds, silent tears still flowing and staining her cheeks, making Jean literally tremble as he doesn't know what's going to happen now. He wants to say the words for a third time, draw her in his embrace and assure her that she can talk to him….but then her answer comes, terrifying and shattering him.
"I wish you'd have said this to me when I was alive."
And it's these words exactly that bring the realization for Jean; the breaking, horrible realization. It's her answer that makes him see that he's not really here, and neither is Sasha; that this is an illusion, a dream, a figment of his imagination; that Sasha is dead and nothing he can do or say can bring her back or even make her hear everything he wishes he could have told her.
Something in his expression must give away his torment, for Sasha turns her back towards him again and break down into sobs, almost worse than her crying from earlier, ragged breaths and sad whimpers falling from her lips. And now Jean can't hold back either, too overwhelmed by everything. As he starts crying and sobbing too, he wraps his arms around Sasha's trembling form, gently pressing his chest to her back and hiding his face on her shoulder, basking in their proximity and at the same time wishing that this was real and not something his mind created.
The realization that the Sasha in his arms is not actually here with him intensifies his cries, and he leaves a small gasp when he feels Sasha's hands covering his and her head lightly nuzzling his hair. He presses his face more against her shoulder, briefly dropping small kisses on the spot there as he whispers love confessions and apologies and everything else that comes to mind, mourning not only for the one he lost, but for all the lost possibilities as well.
As the illusion fades, Jean lands back to Hanji's office in the Scouts' Headquarters, yet this doesn't make his anguish fade too. If anything, it's even stronger now that he's conjured a glimpse of how things could have proceeded that stormy day by the ocean, but even his own mind has turned against him, forcing him to recall over and over again that nothing of this can actually happen.
He is still clutching his head, leaving sobs and quiet whimpers, the noise of his surroundings and of his two superiors not reaching him. He can hear Hani and Levi exchanging some whispery words, followed by the sound of steps leaving the room and by someone gently picking up the letter and the key, likely to neatly tuck them away, yet all this means nothing to him. He is still lost in everything that is gone, everything that could have been, and everything that will never be, and the pain this causes him is raw, cruelly reminding him its presence like a sickness not planning on leaving.
His mind replaying moments with the Potato Girl, memories he will carry with him; the same memories that have been guiding him ever since he reached the box with the letters; the same memories that keep him company, but that also make the grief stronger, like a cruel reminder that he can't turn back time no matter how much he wishes he could.
Especially the memory of Sasha lying on the cold ground of the blimp, broken, lifeless, slowly bleeding out in front of him, and him being unable to help her, or even say some last, meaningful words to her.
It's like the ocean is already taking him under, waves of everything he's been hiding for a month now dragging him deeper and deeper, drowning him in this neverending flood from which there's no way out, no light, because with Sasha gone, light and warmth is nowhere to be found.
But then there's a pair of hands on his shoulders, a grip different from how Hanji occasionally grabs his shoulders. This one is hesitant, somehow shaky, yet steady enough to bring him back from this feeling of drowning. He still refuses to open his eyes and look at the person this grip belongs to, though, too ashamed to look up and accept how it took one letter for him to break down the walls he's built so carefully.
"Come on, Jean." A voice is heard, soft and sad and kind—Connie's. "Let's get you out of here, okay?"
Jean's eyes remain stubbornly closed, but his senses seem to have temporarily returned, for now, in his despair, he can perceive some things clearly: the feeling of Connie's hands on his arms as they help him stand up, the feeling of the floorboards creaking under his boots as they leave Hanji's office, his own ragged breaths compared to Connie's calmer ones, and something warm being wrapped around his shoulders. He blindly reaches out, fresh tears spilling from his eyes at the familiar fabric in his fingers; his old Scout Regiment cloak, the cloak he refused to get rid of, a relic of previous years and older times, when he was a scared recruit of the Recon Corps and never thought he would one day kill other people in this meaningless war that took Sasha and so many others away.
He focuses on breathing deeply, not paying attention to where they're going, allowing Connie to lead them wherever he has in mind, giving up control for once.
Lost in his daze as he is, he doesn't notice a scared and worried pair of eyes observing Connie's and his retreating forms from a half-open door; a shade watching them from another room, a silent observer who sighs deeply.
"So we have reached this point." The shade whispers before silently closing the door, carrying this secret of the mourning Commanding Officer.
"Cap-Captain?" Connie whispers in surprise, his voice still thick with sleepiness, his mind trying to process that he's awake and that Levi himself has knocked on his door. "What…What is it?"
"Get up and follow me, Connie." Levi simply tells him, unfazed by the younger man's sleepy state, serious as ever, yet Connie can detect the stab of worry in his eyes. "You are needed tonight."
"Needed? I…I don't understand, Captain."
"A friend."
Connie's eyes widen at that and he quickly rubs them to chase away the remnants of sleep, Levi's comment now truly awakening him. He looks around, at his superior's troubled expression, at the second bed in his room, which is empty, and he makes the connection with everything that has happened, his eyes meeting Levi's once more.
"Jean." He states, his voice trembling slightly of worry and sadness, now hurting for his two closest friends; the one lost forever, the other lost in emotions he's trying to conceal. "It's Jean, isn't it? He…"
"Just get dressed and come to Hanji's office." Levi doesn't let him continue; this is something Connie needs to see on his own; after all Hanji sent him to get Connie thinking that he's the only one who can truly help Jean right now. "Don't talk to anyone on your way, don't say anything."
"Yes, Captain."
Before Connie leaves his room, though, an idea comes to mind. After searching for a while, he manages to retrieve Jean's old Scout cloak from the closet. They haven't used it in years, but if this is what he thinks it is, if Jean has reached his limit and is venting about Sasha's loss, then maybe something old and familiar will manage to help more.
Hanji is standing right outside her office when Connie goes there, looking as troubled as Levi does, and wiping a tear that has made its way to her cheek, making Connie wince and think, for one more time, how strong an impact Sasha's death has left on everyone. It's more than the loss of someone dear to them; it's a void her death has left behind, an emptiness that can't be filled, and a dreaded silence now that her laughter won't ever be heard again.
He peeks through the open door into the Commander's office, and the sight he meets is so broken that he has to bite his lips in order not to gasp or tear up. For the sight of Jean slumped in his seat, head clutched in his hands, quiet sobs wrecking him, is something he never thought he'd see.
And it's this sight exactly that makes guilt rise in him.
For despite his attempts to make Jean burst out everything he's feeling, Connie has the impression he wasn't of actual help to his friend. Dealing with the murder of the one who was like his twin, he thinks he hasn't been able to truly help Jean express his emotions. And now that he sees him like that, he feels relieved that Jean is finally opening up, and at the same time he feels like he doesn't know what to say or do; he wants to, but he's acting purely by instinct, without knowing if it will actually help.
"I…I think I'll take him out for some fresh air. Maybe open space and the sight of the ocean…." He suggests without completing his sentence, but notices how Hanji and Levi look at each other at the word 'ocean', like a silent communication only for the two of them.
"You do that. Let him talk, or cry, anything he needs, alright? And Connie…" at that, Hanji gently squeezes his elbow, her visible eye boring into him, "please keep him away from the cliffs."
"The cliffs?!"
Connie stares at the woman he's known for so many years like he's seeing her for the first time, refusing to process the meaning behind her words. The way she looked at Levi just now…and now warning him not to let Jean near the cliffs by the ocean….
If Jean, in his venting, expressed something like that…something that made both the Commander and the Captain worry that he'll do something like that…then Jean's emotions run way deeper than Connie could ever suspect. Emotions more dangerous and overwhelming than his despair for Sasha's death, or his guilt that he couldn't save her, even though everyone has assured him multiple times that there's nothing he should feel guilty about.
"Commander, you don't want to say that…"
"He's not thinking clearly right now, Connie. You don't know how he will react. He needs someone who understands, just…just keep him away from the cliffs."
"Of course."
There's a spot at the shore where the rocks form a small alcove, where sand and water slip in. The former members of the 104th loved this spot the moment they discovered it, impressed by the shapes nature gives to rocks, water and earth, amazed by all the wonders kept secret from them for years because of the walls and the schemes that wanted to conceal the secrets of the world.
It's in front of this same alcove that Jean and Connie find shelter tonight, sitting down on the sand, the former bringing his knees to his chest and locking his amber eyes to the silent sea in front of him; the sea he briefly thought about swallowing him and taking him away from all the pain and the loneliness.
The alcove is far away from where Sasha cried in his hug that stormy day, meaning that now he can conjure other memories; the memory of the day they found the ocean and played in the water for the first time, or the memory of how Sasha, Connie and Hanji were the first ones who actually learnt how to swim, too enthusiastic and cheerful, so different from Eren, who saw the ocean as nothing more than the obstacle between him and the enemies at the other side, even though he used to consider it a symbol of hope and motivation to fight.
"The ocean used to scare Sasha, do you remember?" He mumbles, making Connie turn towards him. "She looked at it with fear at the beginning, like she couldn't decide if she enjoyed it or feared it most."
Which, now that he's thinking about it, also has its roots to Sasha's upbringing in Marley and everything she went through there. Ever since she was a little girl, Sasha saw the ocean as something indifferent; as the way to go to Paradis and start her mission as a spy. It didn't hold any symbolic meaning to her, or something hopeful. It was only as a sixteen-year-old Scout when she truly started to see the ocean and manage to have fun and slowly grow out of her fear for anything the ocean triggered in her.
"So were you, Jean. You were afraid of all the new discoveries and the new world we had access to thanks to the ocean. It took you some time to get used to it…Do you remember Sasha dragging both of us in the water?" Connie adds with a bittersweet tone.
Jean nods as a reply to Connie's question, every detail of their first months after they found the ocean clear like they occurred yesterday. Hanji's enthusiasm for every new observation she made, Levi being suspicious of the lands beyond the walls, Sasha's radiant smile and her eagerness to explore as much as possible, definitely not pretending back then; her reactions were genuine, not the ones of a Marley spy deceiving them.
Which only makes Jean's guilt fester because he's unable to forgive himself for actually thinking that Sasha had been lying to them for years.
He leaves a small puff of breath and rubs his forehead, the gentle ocean breeze drying his tears and the sweat that has formed on his face, even though it does nothing to soothe his inner turmoil. In fact, he feels that nothing can truly soothe the storm raging inside him right now; even Connie's presence, albeit helpful and steady by his side, merely numbs the wound.
"It was about time you opened up." His friend whispers now, keeping his voice to a soft volume in order not to disturb Jean's already fragile state. "I know you try to stay calm for our sake, but you don't have to hide. At least not from your friends." He continues, because he knows firsthand that some members of the Recon Corps can't be trusted; that some wait for them to expose even the smallest weakness so it can be used for their own plans, whatever those may be.
He doesn't know what caused Jeans sudden outburst tonight; if it's the result of pent-up frustration and grief or if something specific was said and done that made him explode. And if he wants to be honest with himself, right now this doesn't concern him as much; what matter to him is that Jean finally shows some kind of reaction for everything that torments him; and that he is willing to share memories of Sasha and talk about everything she meant for him.
Because as Connie discretely observes Jean as they sit by the beach, he concludes that his friend doesn't vent the way he vented for Marco's death, or the way he reacted when almost the entire Survey Corps was wiped out in the battle of Shiganshina. The way Connie sees the other man, right now he's not mourning the loss of a very good friend only, or simply the loss of a comrade and ally. The way Jean clutches his forehead, the way he refused to burst for a whole month, the way he's overwhelmed with guilt, betrays to Connie that Jean is mourning the loss of someone who meant much more to him.
"You were in love with her." He says gently, uttering it like a statement and not like a question, and Jean's jolting his head up only confirms it for him. "You still love her…right?"
His comment may sound a bit straightforward in his ears, maybe even unnecessary given the circumstances, but Connie had to voice his realization at the moment; the realization that there was something more going on between Jean and Sasha. He had noticed, of course, the glances they used to exchange, or the way they teased and challenged each other, or the way they seemed to hold admiration and respect for each other; admiration and respect that now, as he concludes, was more than what good friends hold.
"Did she know?" He asks calmly, not of curiosity, but out of pure interest, hoping that the two of them had something good in their lives before the tragedy. At Jean's shaking his head, though, Connie leaves a deep sigh, and decides to ask the question reversed, even though he suspects the answer. "Did you know if she…that she…."
Jean leaves a shuddering breath at that, understanding Connie's question, yet at the same time unable to reply; how can he explain to Connie that he discovered only tonight how deep Sasha's emotions ran, and that he could have known two years ago if only he had stayed with her that day at the beach? And that he had contemplated telling her the night before they left for Marley, but his stupid fear kicked in and made him keep his mouth shut?
"It…It never seemed the right time to tell her. Everything was so new, and all the battles and the fear…" Jean drags his words, leaving a small sound, like a chuckle, at the irony of the situation.
If he had stayed by her side, that rainy day at the ocean, Sasha would have talked to him about everything she felt.
And if Jean had made the decision, he would have confessed everything the eve of the battle in Liberio.
But neither of them did, and Sasha died without hearing the words from him; and Jean himself read the words one month after her death.
And though he can't know what would have happened if he had spoken to her while she was alive, Jean now has to admit that anything would be better than this. Anything is better than his current state, mourning her and beating himself up for his silence.
"I miss her, Connie. I…I miss her more than I can say. It's…It's this dark void in me that can't be filled now that she's gone and…and I know I can't turn back time, I can't tell her everything I wanted to tell her, and…"
"And you miss way more than just Sasha. You miss everything you lived with her all these years, and everything you could have lived with her too." Connie's voice is trembling, just like his hand on Jean's shoulder, and his eyes fill with tears as he too feels the emptiness his closest friend's loss left behind.
Jean nods, on one hand feeling selfish for admitting this to Connie, who lost the one person he was closest too. He is supposed to be the calm one, the one who listens, who makes decisions, who urges others to stay strong, who evaluates a situation and doesn't let emotions cloud his judgment. But it's been a weird couple of days, ever since he started reading the letters, and Jean needs to speak his mind now that Connie is here and willing to listen.
Just like Sasha was always there to listen, to joke and lighten the mood, to offer advice and encouragement in her own unique way.
"And I miss the way she was always here, Connie." He whispers, and it's as if he's responding both to Connie's previous statement and his own thoughts. "No matter the revelations, no matter the fights, no matter the battles, Sasha was a constant. There wasn't a single day without her pranks and her laughter…I sometimes hear her voice in my head, or hope that I'll wake up and she'll be here."
And now that he's read his letter, Jean wishes more than ever that he could turn back time. That he could go back to that day in the ocean and stay by Sasha's side…or go even further in the past, to their cook-off, when he first started seeing her under a new light…maybe even the very first day he met her, the infamous day that had her piss off Commandant Shadis and earned her nickname…he would have treated her better from the start, if only he had the chance to see her one more time and apologize for everything he didn't do to help her.
But time was never on the Scouts' side, reminding them over and over again that it always flows against them, and the only thing Jean can do now is lean against Connie's comforting grip and wonder what tomorrow will bring.
A/N: Soooo, another chapter has reached its end, hope you enjoyed it, everyone! I'll start writing the next one ASAP, so stay tuned.