Jean woke up to the feeling of Marco’s breath on his neck. He turned around to face the freckled boy and shook his shoulder gently to wake him up. Marco stirred and his eyes fluttered open, he smiled at Jean and kissed his forehead.
“Good morning.” He said, still smiling brightly.
That smile, damn that smile, that smile that made Jean’s face go red every time it was directed towards him, and this time was no exception.
Marco giggled. “Jean, your cheeks are bright red.”
“S-shut up.” Jean replied sitting up.
“Haha, sorry, Jean, you just look so cute when you’re blushing like that.” Marco told him, still laughing. This of course made Marco’s face go even redder.
“You need to stop saying those things.” Jean told him, trying to cover his face while throwing a pillow at Marco’s.
“What was that for?” Marco asked, throwing a pillow back at Jean, playfully.
Jean caught it before it could hit his face. “Cut it out you dork, we need to get ready.”
Marco groaned. “But I don’t wanna.”
“Well you’re gonna, even if I have to drag your ass out of this bed and into your harness.” Jean said, already getting dressed.
“Can’t we just, not today?” Marco asks, even though he knows he has to, it is to protect humankind after all, but he’d rather just lay here with Jean.
“That’s stupid.” Jean tells him. “Today Eren has to fix the wall, remember? And we have to help that idiot however we can.”
Marco nods his head in understanding. “I know, Jean, but just stay safe, alright?”
“You too, Marco.” Jean says. “But let’s not worry about that right now.”
Jean leans towards Marco and brings his lips to his own, as Marco’s freckled hands cup Jean’s face and pull him closer. Marco loves this, this closeness, this contact, it’s like a promise, a promise that Jean is his, and he won’t let any Titan take his Jean away from him. And Jean would never admit it, but he loves this too. Jean hugs Marco close to him, their lips still interlocked. Jean doesn’t want to let go of him, almost afraid that if he does he’ll be gone forever, and he can’t let that happen, Marco is the only thing that keeps him sane in this cruel world. They could take away everything, just not Marco, not now, not ever. The thought of losing Marco today caused tears to form in Jean’s eyes and slide down his cheeks.
“Jean, are you crying?” Marco asked, concerned, pulling away.
“Don’t die Marco.” Jean begged. “Just don’t die.”
“Hey, don’t worry.” Marco smiled at Jean, wiping a stray tear from his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?” Jean asked.
“I promise.”
Jean walked around Trost, it was a mess, there was wood and stone everywhere from the destroyed buildings.
“Dammit Jaeger.” Jean thought to himself, swinging his leg over a large plank of wood. “This is all your fault.”
Eren had almost ruined everything, he had lost control and tried to kill Mikasa, and on top of that there were many casualties, luckily no one Jean knew personally. He hadn’t seen everyone yet though, he already knew that Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Annie, and Connie were safe, but he had yet to see the others, but they weren’t stationed too close to Eren so they most likely were all okay. Okay. Marco was okay. That was all Jean had to keep telling himself. Marco was alive, he would find Marco soon, and once he found him they would hug and laugh because they were both okay.
Well Jean was right about finding Marco soon.
Marco’s body lie against a wall, but not all of it, only the left side remained, the right side of his body was completely gone. And Marco was dead. Not okay. As soon as Jean saw him his eyes widened in surprise. Marco, his Marco, was gone. He recognized the face as soon as he saw it but he still hoped he was mistaken.
“Marco?” He asked the dismembered body lying in front of him.
Everything was ruined. No Marco. He was gone. Marco was dead. Jean wanted to scream, to scream at the Titans, to scream at Marco’s body, to scream at God. The one thing he loved most, the one thing that completed him was gone. And he didn’t even know how he died. Marco died with no one there to watch, no one to care, and no one to save him. Jean hadn’t been there, he hadn’t been there to save Marco, and now he was gone. A nurse asked for Jean to tell her who Marco was, Jean wanted to run away, but he told her calmly. Then she carried on to the rest of the nameless dead.
That night when Jean went home, it was alone, he slept alone, wrapped in the duvet that still smelled like Marco. He tried to hide in it, from the world, and from reality, because he knew, that as soon as he came out from under it, no one would be there, Marco wouldn’t be by his bedside to remind Jean that everything was okay, he wouldn’t be lying next to him to hold him through the night, he wouldn’t be anywhere.
“Marco.” Jean whispered. “How could you? You promised.”
