Sun - Sleeping at Last

A single shard pierces the lucid darkness. It spreads, the light emanating from the core soon consuming its opposite. Faint silhouettes are outlined shakily in the newborn scintillation, reluctant to focus. You remember nothing.

Jean gasped, warily gazing up at the strange people surrounding him. "W-where am I? Who-" He broke off, voice cracking, and coughed. "Who are you?" His eyes darted from one person to the next, each moment growing more panicked as he realized that he he knew none of them. Jean's breathing started to speed up, his voice accumulating a higher note that resonated with fear of an unknown source. "Why am I here? What do you want from me?" He tried to sit up, only to find himself tethered to what he recognized as an examination table. The fear, now evolved into something primal, struck a chord deep inside the young man's core, and feral screams ripped themselves from his throat. Thrashing, he tried to escape his bonds, trying to run from something not even he could comprehend.

Their hands reached out to him-

Reached for him-

Pushing him back down-

Pulling him under-

Authoritative, strong-

Cruel, terrible.

"No!" He screamed, trying to fight them. "Stop touching me! Let me go!"

"Jean!" A soft-faced, freckled man came into his view, filling his entire vision. "Calm down, please! We aren't going to hurt you!" There was something...something about this man, Jean thought, that seemed...important. He felt like he knew this man, yet he didn't.

Or...did he?

There was something, but...

He just.

Couldn't.

Put.

His finger in It.

"No!" Jean protested again, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "That's what They all say! And...and they're nothing but lies!"

The freckled man looked at him, his bright eyes soft with concern. "Jean-"

"Stop it!" He was crying now, hot tears streaming down his face. "Let me out! I need- I need to see-" Jean stopped, blinking in surprise.

"You need to see what, Jean?"

Jean sat there, childishly silent, almost as if he were puzzled. He tried to respond, opening and closing his mouth a few times, until...he manages to speak. Unlike his previous outburst, this one was barely a whisper.

"Not...n-not what. Who. I...I-I need to see...a person."

Marco perked up at those words, staring at Jean with a new-found intensity. "Who is it, Jean? Do you know their name?"

"I...n-no." Jean laid himself back down, now seemingly oblivious to the strangers, unlike before. "I d-don't remember who, I just know that...that I..." Jean trailed off, his lids drooping. "I..." He goes silent, losing consciousness once again.

Marco bit his lip and stepped back, blinking away tears. "He...doesn't remember anything."

A shorter, brunette doctor shook his head. "The injections people give you over there are crazy. But he'll be fine, Marc. You'll just need to work with him."

Marco gently rested his hand on Jean's, sighing. "I guess you're right, Eren." Moving their hands, he positioned them so that his fingers were laced through Jean's pale, bruised digits. "Listen...I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through hell because I...I was careless. But Jean...I...I promise I'll do better."

"Are you on patrol today?"

Jean squinted. Someone was striding ahead of him, looking back, but...who was he? The voice was strange, and the features were blurry, but somehow, Jean knew that this...this person, this man, was important.

Very important.

"No," he felt himself say. "I have the day off."

From what...?

"Great!" The man was smiling now, at him. It was a nice smile, Jean thought. Oddly familiar, too...no. He didn't remember this. He couldn't.

...Then why was this here? What was it? Why did he-

"There's something I want to show you." The man was stopped, and he held out a hand, gesturing for Jean to follow.

"What is it?" Lengthening his gait, he strained to catch up to this mysterious man. Try as he might, his companion remained a few paces ahead, even though his legs conveyed that he was waiting for Jean.

"You'll see!" The voice had a playful tone now, and Jean could almost hear the smirk. "Just follow me!" To Jean's dismay, the man began to walk again, this time faster.

"Wait!" Jean called, breaking into a jog. Still, he was behind. "Who are you? And what are you to me?"

But the man was gone.

"He's getting worse, Marco."

Marco started, wearily lifting his slack face out of his hand. "What...do you mean?" Yawning, his fingers uncurled themselves from around a Styrofoam cup of now-cold coffee, and he struggled to his feet, grunting.

Eren set a stack of papers down on the frigid metal table, frowning. "He hasn't woken up in twenty-eight hours, Marco, and his signs are getting weaker. I don't think he's gonna make it."

Marco froze, gripping the table with white knuckles. "Don't...don't say that, Eren. He'll make it."

"Marco..."

"He'll make it, Eren. I just have to try." He tossed his cup into a nearby trashcan and strode to the door. "And don't you dare say anything otherwise."

"I wasn't!" Eren protested. "I was just-"

Slam.

Marco flipped a switch by the door, and half of the florescent lights dotting the ceiling sputtered on. The room was now dimly lit, nd it was silent, save for the soft humming of machines and the steady beep of a heart rate.

Cautiously, Marco crept over to the metal island floating in the center of the room, as if fearful of disturbing its inhabitant.

"Jean?" Marco whispered, tiptoeing to a stop. "It's me. Marco. I..." Marco took a shaky breath, clasping his hands together.

The fingers twitch nervously.

Take another breath.

. . .

Now, restart.

"A-anyway...yeah. It's Marco. Look, I don't know if you can hear me. Of even if...hah...even if you...y-you remember me. But...we go back. We grew up together, and enlisted in the S.O force together. I was...am...I am a doctor. And you were a soldier.

"You were a good one, too. Captain of the Alpha Squad. Everyone looked up to you. You were a great leader, Jean.

"But the thing is...you weren't a good leader because you were strong. You were a good leader because you know how it feels to be weak. And I respect that. Hell, I even...I-I even...no. Never mind.

"Me being a doctor, the only real attention anyone paid me was whenever I saved someone. Unfortunately...that...that doesn't happen very often. Heh. But I hope it happens this time. It's my fault you're like this, after all.

"I...I was careless, Jean. I should have known there was gonna be an ambush. I should have stopped Them from taking you. But...I didn't. I didn't even move. And now...oh, god. I don't even know exactly what they did to you over there, but...I'll fix it. I swear I will. I'll keep fixing and fixing it until everything is back to normal, and that...that you...that you remember how much we...l-loved each other.

"At least, I loved you. I still love you, Jean. And you loved me. I think. I really do. But we...we should have known that the happiness wouldn't last forever in this screwed-up world we live in. They got you, and They beat you, and injected you with god-knows-what until your body was riddled with holes. They got you, and it's all my fault.

"People here are starting to question why I'm even trying. They say it's a lost cause. They've even replaced you. And yeah, you're stubborn, and yeah, you're a jackass...but you're my jackass. And I'm not ready to replace my star jackass, Jean Kirschtein."

Marco bit his lip, gazing down at the pale-faced man with a mixture of hope and worry.

He had still not moved.

Marco sighed, squeezing his eyes shut tight until his remaining tears broke loose and dribbled down his face.

There were already too many spattered across Jean's hospital gown, along with the sheets folded against his limp, fragile body.

"You...you can't die, Jean." Gingerly, Marco up Jean's hand in his, careful not to disturb the IV. "I need you. I know it may sound selfish, but...I really do need you, Jean. I also...I also need you to know this." Marco crouched down until he was level with Jean's ear, then took a shattered breath. "You are loved, jackass," Marco whispered. "You're loved more than you know."

For while, Marco held his breath, waiting. Waiting for Jean to wake up, to take one look at Marco's face and say:

"I love you, dummy. What was that long speech for? I love you, and you better damn know that."

But he didn't.

He couldn't.

Warm lips, curved into a smile...

Lost in his thoughts...

Met Jean's. The warm spring sun caressed their backs, christening their love. Truly, it was a happy ending.

Marco had failed to notice the flat line streaming across the dimmed monitor.