"Marco!" He cried out in the hopes of getting the attention of the dark-haired person standing only a few yards ahead. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as the teen turned, a soft smile on his freckled face with his raven hair covering his forehead. "Hey, Marco!"
Rather then responding, he turned and started to walk away. What was he even wearing? A uniform it looked like it with a green unicorn in a coat of arms across the back of a tan jacket. Shaking the thought from his mind he started after the escaping friend of his calling his name.
Without warning, Marco stopped moving and he was finally able to reach out and grab the other's shoulder. At the simple touch, half his body had turned to dust and crumbled. Marco's body fell to the ground, a puddle of blood running under his boots - when did I start wearing them, he thought - and standing the ground that was slowly materializing at his feet.
Where was he? Why was everything so strangely familiar? Looking at Marco, at half his body laying before him and ashes of human remains falling like snow. For a long moment, he just stared and took a moment to realize this was almost too realistic, too frightening.
"Marco...hey, Marco."
Upon the utterance of those words, he fell down beside the teen paralyzed with fear and confusion. Blood was pouring on him. The blood of the dearest person to him running over and suffocating him. He was breathing in the iron-tasting goo that covered his body and freezing him while burning him. Everything was confused, nothing was sane anymore.
"Jean!"
He shot awake, panting and shaking while sweat coated his body and glistened in the moonlight. His boyfriend - sitting next to him - waited patiently for him to calm down in the meanwhile, preparing to comfort him in an instant. Moments passed like clockwork for the two, Jean trying to get a grip and Marco waiting worriedly for the other to explain what was wrong.
Slowly but surely, Jean's breathing calmed and he was able to look over at the worried eyes staring over to him. "Jean," his voice was soft and full of compassion as it spoke. "Are...are you feeling ok...?"
"Yeah," he muttered back wiping his hand on his sweat-matted face and brushing the wet hairs from his forehead. "I was just...having a really bad dream is all. It was so vivid...it was almost...surreal."
Marco's hand placed itself on Jean's shoulder, making him jump in surprise then calm down instantly. "You know you can tell me anything...you were crying and writhing in your sleep. Just tell me what's wrong..."
"I dreamed that...some way that I can't even explain...you died..." He sighed and laid back down on his sweat-soaked sheets without much care. His hands went over his face, eyes closed to remember the visions. "You were eaten...at least it looked like it...then I was drowning in your blood. Choking on it...waiting for it to kill me too-"
He froze as Marco reached over and brushed a stray tear falling down his cheek. "I think...you need to relax for a minute...you're alright. I also think we need to switch beds because this one is soaked in your sweat..."
Jean rested for a minute, slowly calming down and taking a grip of reality once more before turning towards his boyfriend with a small, apologetic smile. "Yeah, I guess so...I think I'm going to just gunna take a cold shower quick...I'll do the laundry tomorrow."
"But tomorrow is a weekend...everybody usually does the laundry then." Marco said in a steady voice, trying to hide his own confusion and fright. "It'll take you hours before you can even bother to do the laundry, no less our sheets."
"Don't worry about it," he grinned as he turned the bathroom lights on and shut the door behind him. "You can go ahead and sleep before I'm done. I didn't mean to wake you up in the first place."
"T...Thanks..." He muttered softly, not even caring if Jean had heard him or not. A moment later, he was drowned out by the sound of the hissing water anyway. By the time he was stepping out of the shower, he could tell something wasn't right. It may have been the muffled sound of crying that threw him off.
Jean was quick to change and enter the room, Marco's cries halting as the door opened. "Marco, you're not alright either. The last thing I wanna see is you upset...I bet a lot of people would say the same thing."
"I'm just tired is all," he mumbled lowly and pulled the sheets over him. "I wanna go to sleep..."
Jean sighed and slid into bed beside him and spooned with him while pressing gentle kisses to his back. "C'mon Marco..." His voice whispered in a playfully seductive tone. "If you don't tell me what's the matter right now, then I'm just gunna have to punish you."
"Jean, stop." He hissed making even Jean cringe in surprise and back off. "I just wanna go to sleep..."
"No," he snapped back, sitting back up. "Not until you tell me why you're not alright. It was a dream, I'm ok now-"
"Because you're not the only one who's been having nightmares like that Jean! It was almost the same and I'm worried, alright!?"
Once more he was taken aback, only becoming more surprised as Marco simply broke down and curled back into a cocoon of bed sheets again. "Why didn't you tell me...? Alright...c'mere now..."
He managed to lift Marco somewhat onto his lap and brushed his back. "I d-don't want to die Jean...! I'm really scared...!"
"You're not going to die," Jean tried to comfort as he managed to get Marco to wrap his arms around the other's neck. "Stop worrying so much about a stupid dream...if you're really so worried, just wake me up and I'll remind you."
He lay somewhat down as Marco slowly calmed himself down. By the time he had stopped crying, the two had fallen asleep snuggled up close together without the worry of any more nightmares for the night.

"How much longer do you think we have before the titans get us Jean...?"
In the dark of the barracks, Jean sighed and held the frightened teen close to him. "We won't know Marco. Remember...we're going to be in the military police together. There aren't any titans in Wall Sina..."
"Do you think so?"
"Obviously." He smiled - not the cocky one he usually gave - and laid back down on the hardened beds, stomach yearning for something other then tasteless, dry bread and cold soup. "Man, this really sucks...I could go for something else for dinner."
"When we get into the military police, we'll be cared for as the best of the best," Marco's voice filled with wonder. "We can eat the food of the kings...no more stale bread...no more watered-down soup...just fine wine and the most respect..."
"You're not helping my hunger." Jean grumbled and turned away as Marco hugged him close from behind. "We'll be the best of the 104th...the best military police...and we won't ever have to worry about fighting the titans ever..."
"Yeah...it sounds like a plan..." Like children, the settled into sleep with thoughts of a better tomorrow and without worry about what was to come.