Verse 03 -- Video

[poeticverses]

[It is not a happy Jean Prouvaire who greets the world today.

Those who don't know Jehan might be able to tell that something's off. He almost looks sick, but not quite, and his clothes are in disarray. Those who do know Jehan?

They can tell right away that something is terribly wrong with the Romantic poet. He hasn't been out of his house in a few days--he hasn't left his house much at all since a few days before the snow day, actually, but in the last few days he's been a total recluse--and hasn't been seen on the network since Courfeyrac's last post. He's not looking at the feed like he normally does, his hands seem to be shaking a little, and he just seems off. Sleep has clearly been eluding the poet, too.

It takes a few minutes before he speaks. When he does, his voice is lacking his usual emotion. Still gentle, Jehan could never be anything but, but it's a bit flat]

I...I was wondering if someone...

[He bites his lip before trying again]

A-a flute. Does anyone know where I might--

[Another pause, this one longer. Jehan closes his eyes and shakes his head, reaching up to turn the feed off]

No, never mind.

[Just before he cuts the feed, the sounds of him starting to cry can be heard]

Comments

[poeticverses]

[Jehan starts to say that nothing's wrong, really, but it's a lot harder to deny it when Combeferre is right there. He takes a shaky breath and his voice is weak]

I...I do not know.

[As he speaks, he gets more frantic]

Everything and nothing and all things in between. Everywhere I turn there is something new to startle me, or a memory of the barricade, or someone who is looking for a-a scapegoat, it seems. Hidden things, terrifying truths and sad ones and--

[He cuts himself off with a gasp]

[philosophe]

You are no scapegoat, I assure you. [He moves that hand now, to Jehan's shoulder, giving it a gentle clasp.]

I do know what you mean, however. This place is -- difficult to get used to; so many new and different things. I -- [There's a slight pause.] I see the barricades as well. Most often in my dreams, but -- every so often, I...drift, I suppose, is the word I am looking for.

[poeticverses]

["New and different things". Combeferre, you don't know the half of it. Jehan shudders a bit]

I--I worry that it's too much to handle. Everything in the waking world and my nightmares where I am dying alone and the heavens refuse to open their doors to me and call me a fool for thinking I could sabo--

[He cuts himself off before he can finish the thought. No. Combeferre doesn't know that part. He doesn't need to know that part, even if the stress of keeping the truth from his friends is killing him]

[philosophe]

Then you may talk. You must, I will listen. I am always open to you, mon frère. Know that, if you listen to nothing else I say tonight.

[But he trails off, quirking an eyebrow.] Ah. Will you tell me? You are already a hero to me, Jehan, this will not change my estimation of you in any way.

[poeticverses]

[Jehan doesn't respond for a few moments. He doesn't want to tell Combeferre. It was a foolish idea and he knew it going in. He doesn't even remember why he did it--to be a hero, maybe. Either way, it was stupid.

But...maybe Combeferre is right. Writing hasn't help the nightmares. Perhaps talking will. He looks down]

I...I've lied to you all. I let you believe the Guard took me from the barricade and that isn't true. I...I went over, to sabotage them, and was captured. It was a fool's mission and I knew it, but I did it anyway.

[philosophe]

It was less of one than threatening to blow up the barricade. Which -- yes, it bought us more time, but even so Marius...I suspect, may not have been thinking entirely clearly at the time.

But you, our brave poète -- you are no less the hero to me. You knew full well what you did and why you did it; I do not begrudge you in the slightest for not wishing to tell us. None of us will, I should wager. You are our brother.

[poeticverses]

[Combeferre's words are the final straw. Jehan just starts crying, head in his hands trying to stay quiet. He was stupid for thinking they'd mind. Combeferre still thinks him brave when he obviously isn't. He's a hero, he says. Jehan just wants to ask "how". How is he a hero, how is he brave when he's an utter mess who instead of going to his friends hid this from them? He ran when the stress got to be too much, he's a coward.

Jehan doesn't realize he's said all this out loud, either.]

[philosophe]

Hush. [It's said absently, not as a reprimand, and he just pulls Jehan close for a hug.]

You are brave because you fought with us, died with us, fought for our cause and the future and never gave up on your beliefs; not even when faced with a firing squad. You are not a coward, you could never be one, petit. You are simply human, as we all are, and every human has their failings. You are our valiant brother, and you always shall be.

[poeticverses]

[Jehan clings to Combeferre desperately. He feels like he's drowning and Combeferre is the only thing keeping him from dying]

I...how is it that I am the one to break, Etienne? That--I do not want the rest of you to feel this lost, of course. But this feels like a...a punishment.

[philosophe]

[And he's kind of rubbing his back absently, much like he did in another telling of their story with another of their friends.]

Perhaps it is --because you are apt to feeling more than the rest of us. I cannot say. But you are --you have depths that neither I nor Enjolras can reach. Both you and Courfeyrac do, you are our heart and our strength. That may have something to do with it.

Do not think that you are the only one who feels lost, however. We all do, I am certain of it.

[poeticverses]

[Jehan nearly says that there is no way Combeferre can feel lost. He is their guide, the one who keeps them stable. There is simply no way.

But if he can feel this, then surely the others can. It would be selfish to assume they can't.]

I am a fool...forgive me for hiding this, mon frère. I should not have.

[philosophe]

[He does, sometimes, though he is loath to admit it. This place is all too strange, with dragons and people from other centuries and living on the back of a giant turtle.]

You are forgiven, petit. [And a beat, before he gives Jehan a tight hug.] Be well, we shall have you back to your old self again as soon as may be.

[poeticverses]

[Jehan is just a crying mess today, as Combeferre's hug sets him off again. It's a miracle he has any tears left. When he manages to calm down enough to speak, a few moments later, his voice is soft]

You will--please, tell me when you are having trouble, my friend. I want to help you as you have helped and hopefully will continue to help me. I do not want any of you to feel this way.

[philosophe]

I will always be here whenever you may need me, Jehan. --And I shall, you need not worry on my account.

[A small smile.] In this place, we may become closer than ever, I think. True brothers.

[poeticverses]

I did not think it possible to become closer, but you might be right, Etienne. We are the only ones who can ever truly understand what the others went through, after all.

[Jehan pulls away slightly to start drying his eyes before he starts crying again]

Ah, your shirt...

[Is terrible tearstained on one shoulder]

[philosophe]

[A bemused blink.]

Petit, it has seen much worse, I assure you. Do not worry yourself.

[poeticverses]

Are you certain? I'm sure I've something that would fit, if you'd like something a little less...

[Wet]

[philosophe]

I am quite fine, but thank you.

....Shall I leave you, or would you like help cleaning up?

[poeticverses]

--oh! I should contact Courfeyrac--I'm afraid I ended our conversation rather abruptly and he is probably frantic. I will be fine, Combeferre, I think. If I am not, I will contact you. Yes?

[philosophe]

Please do. You know where to find me, after all, and my door is always open.

[poeticverses]

[Jehan nods]

One more thing, if I may. I am certain Enjolras has seen this by now--would you please tell him that I'd like to speak with him tomorrow? I...he deserves to know.

[philosophe]

Of course I shall. Be well, Jehan. [And he's giving him another brief hug and standing.]