A/N: I picked a song at random and lyrics from said song at random and I wrote a drabble inspired by them. The song is Big Houses by Squalloscope. You can listen to it here: watch?v=vIK0Abrl8XY
They hadn't given him a gravestone. They couldn't afford luxuries like that. Nobody in this world got a gravestone unless you were the king or somebody the king loved. Otherwise, you were unimportant, short-lived, and unnoticed.
He was one of the unnoticed. He wasn't very long in this world. Just here to make a few people smile and do what he could; and then, his life was extinguished. There was no grand statement. There wasn't a dramatic scene and there were no poignant last words. Just Marco going off to do his duty and dying an undignified, clumsy, unseen death.
Maybe it was fitting in a way, his dying alone. His friends wouldn't have to worry about trying to save him and he wouldn't get in their way again. Yes, this was definitely fitting.
Marco had always been told that your life was supposed to flash before your eyes as you were dying. He was somewhat surprised when this didn't happen. Instead, his final thoughts were:
I wonder if they'll miss me.
He pondered this in the split second he had left as a great mouth loomed ever closer. Only one conclusion could be reached:
No.
He was glad that he didn't have a gravestone. They just threw him and the other casualties into a fire and watched them burn. He would become part of the earth now and new life would come from his body. Trees instead of gravestones. Nothing to remember him by. Nothing left of him to hold anyone back.
Just as it should be.
A/N: And then he was wrong and Jean cried and my heart cried and I cried and everything was not okay ever again.