Marco's death ruined Jean. The once overly-confident and blunt French boy was now reduced to a depression so deep that there seemed to be no way out of it. Even Jean's friends at school couldn't help him become glad once more. Even his long-time crush Mikasa Ackerman attempted to cheer him up with a date. Jean hoped for the best result.
"You want to get some ice cream?" Mikasa offered. Jean glanced over at the ice cream stand, contemplating on whether or not he wanted the sweet, frozen delight. Jean decided on the ice cream as he noted how humid the air felt that afternoon.
"Yeah, anything to escape this heat." As the pair walked towards the small ice cream stand, Mikasa slyly slipped her slender fingers in between Jean's, squeezing his hand tightly.
"You're paying, right?" Mikasa asked, a smile of sorts tugging at the corner of her lips. Jean forced a snicker, shaking his head.
"Aren't you the one who invited me out? I think that means you have to pay for our treat." Mikasa rolled her eyes as she fought back the grin that threatened to show. Somehow, Jean didn't feel embarrassed talking to Mikasa like he usually was. Throughout their whole little 'date', Jean had spoken carelessly with Mikasa. Maybe he was finally getting over his stupid crush? Or maybe it was something else, something much deeper.
Mikasa bought a vanilla ice cream for herself and a vanilla chocolate swirl for Jean, who insisted on getting a large. Their hands stayed locked together as they walked slowly down the long path of the park. A comfortable silence only interrupted by the occasional rustle of the leaves in the wind settled around them. Jean smiled contently to himself despite the aching feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"You know . . ." Mikasa started, kicking a pebble that lay in front of her. Her ice cream had been finished just a moment ago, vanilla ice cream hinting on the corner of her mouth. Jean caught himself staring at it, a familiar dull ache in his chest. "You changed a lot since the accident."
The once comfortable silence was now broken into an awkward one. The rest of Jean's ice cream fell to the pavement as his arm fell limp to his side. The accident with Marco, that's right. Jean had almost forgotten the day. It was exactly a month since his passing. Jean had promised he would visit his grave today.
He messed up badly.
"I-I'm sorry, Mikasa, I have to go." Jean turned to sprint back towards the park entrance when the same slender fingers that had held his hand wrapped tightly around his elbow.
"Jean, you have to move past this someday, you can't stay depressed forever." Jean looked back at the oriental beauty. Her dark eyes showed genuine concern. It made his stomach churn painfully to see someone give him such a pitiful look. Gritting his teeth, Jean tugged his arm away from Mikasa.
"Well, I'm not ready to let go, okay? I-I forgot to tell him something really important and now that he's gone, I live in constant guilt. I won't be getting over this anytime soon." Jean moved to sprint away like he originally planned before pausing. Letting out a deep sigh, Jean continued. "I'm sorry about ruining our date. Maybe we can do this again some other time? I had lots of fun."
Jean moved as fast as his toned legs would take him. Being Captain and Quarter back of the football time made him well-fit for the run, but with the sun slicking down the orange sky caused panic to flutter in the boy's stomach.
"WATCH IT KID!" Horns blared at him but Jean didn't care, he just kept on running. He had to make it before nightfall or all would be in vain and his promise to Marco would be broken. There was no way in hell Jean would allow that.
Jean slowed to a jog as he entered the cemetery, panting heavily as he did. Sweat trailed down his face making Jean blink rapidly to keep it out of his eyes. Glancing around at the thousands of gravestones, Jean eventually spotted the freshest mound of earth.
Marco
With whatever strength was left in Jean's exhausted body he used to run to his grave. His knees locked, forcing Jean to fall down onto the mound. Once his limbs stopped shaking, Jean sat crisscrossed beside the mound of freshly packed earth.
"Hey, Marco, sorry I'm late." Silence greeted his words.
"You will never guess who I scored a date with! Mikasa freaking Ackerman, that's who! Aren't I great, Marco?!" Jean grinned happily. As he spoke, he could have sworn he felt Marco sitting in the same position as Jean across from him, smiling his stunning grin. Oh how Jean missed watching as Marco's freckle-dotted cheeks stretched tightly as his grin was too big.
"Though, I don't think I will ever get the chance again . . . I kinda ditched her for you . . . you better be grateful!" Jean laughed dryly. There was no mistaking the sadness that began to weigh down on Jean's heart. He wanted Marco to reply to him, to smile encouraging and pat on the back. He wanted his best friend back.
"Hey, I have something to tell you, OK? Don't laugh?" How could he laugh? He's dead "Well, I kinda planned on telling you this, uh, secret the day before you died but this will have to do."
Jean drew in a shaky breath. Clenching and unclenching his hands, Jean managed to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. It was now or never.
"I don't know when I started feeling like this. Maybe it was when you helped me with my art project back in 5th grade because I suck worse than a one year old at drawing? Or maybe it was when you listened to me rant on and on about how much of a bastard Jaeger was and how Mikasa deserved a better foster brother?" Jean laughed dryly. "Well, I guess I should just get on with it, huh? Marco, I . . . I think I was in love with you. Hell, I'm still in love with you, damn it!"
The tears flowed down freely from Jean's eyes. There was no use in coping with these feels any longer. Jean's nails dug painfully into the palm of his hand.
"I love you so much . . . it hurts y'know. It hurts loving your dead best friend. Why did you do it, Marco? I thought you were happy . . . why didn't you fucking tell me how you felt?!" Jean's tightly fisted hands slammed into the mound of earth. "I'm your best friend! You could have told me anything, anything."
"Marco, can you even fucking hear me? Please, please say you can hear me because I want an answer. Why, why did you off and get killed? Why were you driving so late at night, drunk? You said you would never drink and become like your father, so why?!" Jean's whole body trembled. This wasn't how he hoped for the confession to go. He dreamed of being able to hold the freckled boy tightly in his arms, kissing him silly until he saw stars, but that was all gone.
"I-I just don't get it, Marco. You always, always, told me everything. You told me when your parents got divorced, you told me when your mother died from cancer, you even told me when you were being picked on about your freckles by some douche who couldn't see how beautiful you-" Jean broke off as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had loved Marco since 4th grade.
"Marco . . . Marco . . ." Jean sobbed lightly, wrapping his shaking arms around his wobbly knees. Marco a dead. Marco was buried 6ft underneath him. Marco wasn't with him anymore. He was alone, so very alone.
WAAAAAH MY POOR BBIES MOMMY LOVES YOU SO MUCH AAAAAH *CRIES*
I really love these two ((otp)) and I wanted to write a little thing so here it is! This is my first ever SNK related writing so I hope Jean isn't too out of character!