Stay strong and Move Along

Im so sorry.

I sigh, tossing my Scout jacket to the other side of my bunk bed and sit down on the edge of the mattress, resting my elbows on my knees and leaning on them, resting the palm of my hands on my cheeks. I can't believe he's gone. He's not the type of guy to just ... I shake my head, dismissing the memories of his bloodied corpse, his brown gaze. Even in death his eyes were the same, brown as the earth but as curious as the night. But I don't have time to think about him, not now. Not like Jaeger's helping, he doesn't even know he's dead. And who's fault was that I wonder, oh wait I know, Eren. It's all his fault he's dead. If he hadn't have compromised the entire fucking mission by going rogue and trying to smash Mikasa and instead have just got on with the mission like any rational person, which he is not, we'd have got on with our job quickly, and that means less casualties, less fatalities, and Marco wouldn't be dead. In fact, he would be quite safe on the wall, if Jaeger hadn't have gone all I'm going to squash Mikasa with my big ass Titan arm blah blah blah then Marco wouldn't have had a reason to fight in Trost. I sigh and roll onto the bed, spreading my arms and legs out, staring at the ceiling. I don't need friends anyway, I'm a soldier, a fighter. That's what we all are, we fight for the people, but not everyone comes home alive, and that's the scariest part of the job. Right about now I'm wondering why any of us put on this jacket and accepted the job. Last time I checked no one forced us to do this, but we did it anyway. Trained alongside the dead and forgotten. But I'll never forget Marco, the things he did or words he said. I shake my head again, rolling onto my side and slowly close my eyes, waiting for dawn to come and take away the painful memories...