He's letting his eyes close, shedding his soft clothes.

Jean knew the silence was a mockery. It was too still, along with the wind that laughs like a clown after everything that had just unfolded. The others had long dispersed, their voices thinning into whispers and then to nothing.

You’d been looking for him, even if you weren’t sure why. Maybe because you knew he wouldn’t say anything when you always noticed the way he folded into himself when he didn’t want to be seen.

You didn’t call his name. He wasn’t asleep. He wasn’t even resting.

He was retreating.

Jean had seen too much today. Heard too much, fought too much. Because how is he supposed to keep up with the sound of Falco's cries still ringing in his skull, Gabi's trembling voice that says she regrets, or the silence where Sasha's laughter used to be?

They had pulled the trigger again and again, and not just on enemies. The gray between right and wrong had grown so vast that it swallowed them whole. He had wanted to believe they were still the good guys, not a villain, as violent. He wanted to believe the friends they’d lost hadn’t died for nothing.

But the sea hadn't been freedom.

And Jean… Jean had always thought he was strong enough to make peace with it. Even Marco told him so.

Until the stars stabbed him through his back. Until his hands started shaking, and the voices got too loud.

You saw all of it.

This was the one thing he always did when everything became too loud, too much, too fast. It wasn’t for the noise outside. It was for the one inside. He didn’t want to hear the war anymore. Didn’t want to hear the noise his friends were turned into soldiers. Didn’t want to hear the noise that killed Sasha. Didn’t want to hear himself becoming someone who could justify it.

So he shut it out. Hands over his ears, eyes closed. And the world disappeared. He was back to being an infant. A mother's son who was innocent.

Jean didn’t hear the floorboard creak as you moved.

Jean didn’t hear anything else.

But there was one thing he felt—

hands that suddenly held his, covering his ears that made everything quieter than they were.

Only a pull in his face close, wanting the inmost.

Both arms cradled him now.