Yep, sooo... this is my first AoT one shot. I'm currently working on a Skyrim story, but I HAD to upload something and it HAD to of AoT and JeanxMarco. Can't help it, my OTP is just too much...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I'm not very good with romantic stories, but since I'm so obssesed with AoT and JeanxMarco... God, anything for my OTP!

So let me now what you think! If I messed up or something, review it! I'd apreciate anything!

On the dark night of October 31…

Halloween was always celebrated in Trost district. Every family prepared their candies and waited for the kids to arrive at night. Others preferred to stay indoors and wait for them to go away and just watch horror movies, but every man has their way to deal and celebrate this day. On the other hand, for the religious ones, Halloween was a night in which evil men try to contact demons; for them it was a night of crime and they always tried to put some sense into the citizens and kids, but they never understood. People ignored them to the point in where they even began to chant and throw holy water to the houses, which to some people was an act of disrespect. Revealing Halloween's true meaning was no easy job.

Jean Kirshtein didn't care about any of that crab. He had his own problems now trying to avoid contact with the 'exorcists'. They could see the soul through the eyes and know what someone's planning, or so he heard, 'The eyes are the window to the soul'. He didn't believed shit about it, but he still wanted to avoid them. He needed to get back home… and fast.

As he ran, he fell several times, with the supplies he just bought. His whole body trembled. Was he really going to do it? The real question was… why was he having doubts now? As he picked up all his stuff, he noticed that someone was walking towards him, -"Jean, are you alright?"

When Jean looked up, he saw the person he wanted to see least, -"Uh, yeah, I'm fine."

The angel disguised Mikasa stretched her hand to help him get up, raising an eyebrow. He ignored it and stood up, -"You seem nervous. Halloween isn't getting into you, is it?"- From the corner of her lips, a small smile was seen.

He looked away, -"Of course not."- He kneeled and put all his supplies in his bag. The faster he picked up the supplies, the faster he could get home and do it. He didn't want to hear her rambling about anything and he didn't want to see her. In fact, he didn't want to see anyone. The faster he gathered up his goods, the more of them fell. He couldn't stop shaking. Now, his 'friends' were gathered up around him, each one of them with different costumes.

-"Hey, Jean, try to guess what I am!"- He heard Connie. When Jean looked at him, he saw him dressed up as a cookie, -"A walking cookie!"

Tears began to mold up in his eyes; as he looked away, memories began to whelm up in his mind. Memories he thought he had forgotten. He always dressed up as a cookie in Halloween… while he dressed up as a glass of milk. Cookie and milk, cookie and milk… you and me.

-"Hey, Jean… what's the matter?"- He heard Jaeger ask from somewhere and to his surprise, he was wearing a horse mask. Something only he does, -"Ops." –Something only Jean tolerated from him.

-"What's with the candles?"- Sasha asked, eating something, -"You're scared of the dark?"

That was it. Jean took all his supplies and pushed through them, running to his house. Not daring to look back, he gripped tightly his bag, trying not to look to anyone's eyes. He felt his 'friends' stare on his back, but he didn't cared. He had to do it; now or never. Today or never. When he reached his home, he quickly dashed to his room and poured down and the supplies that he bought, the candles and the knife. Then, he reached for the shovel on the backyard. With it, he ran to the place he visited daily: the cemetery. Before he pierces the shovel in the earth, he whispered, -"Don't worry, Marco… I'll get you out of there."- Then he dug and dug, until finally the shovel hit the hard wooden prison. Alone, he pulled it out and dragged it to his room. The harsh wooden surface scratched his hand and its weight putting Jean's leg to the limit, but… Anything for him. With his hand aching and legs numb, he opened the coffin and saw the only person he considered his friend: Marco Bott. His hands shakes when he slightly touched Marco's cheek; it was cold, his skin pale as paper, his hair perfectly intact and… the freckles, those beautiful freckles that Jean loved so much were still there. His body was still positioned the same way on the day of his funeral; hands tightly holding the cookie necklace that Jean gave him and the now withered flowers.

-"Soon… soon I will be with you and we can have fun just like old times, right?"- He asked Marco, while tightly holding his cold hand.

Jean just stood there, staring at Marco. Then, without wasting any more time, he took the candles and placed them around the coffin. With a black crayon, he drew the pentagram, circling it. While he drew, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Then he slowly placed the knife in his palm. It was difficult to slice because of his uncontrollably shaking, but he still managed to cut his palm and taint the pentagram with it. After closing the window and turning off the light, one by one, he lit up the candles with the matches. –"Now… the moment of truth."- He said shakily as he walked numbly to his bed and took the cold black book that he stole from the library. It was a book of necromancy with no title. He never practiced necromancy before; this will actually be the first time.

He was tired, so tired… he didn't slept yesterday because of the idea of reviving Marco and because of the reading. It killed him and he never felt so desperate to do something before. Also, he never actually read so much before, which was Marco's job.

He wanted Marco back and according to this book, he can have him back. There will be consequences, but he didn't cared. All he wanted was for Marco to be with him like old times, he wanted the cookies with milk every morning, Marco's studying while he played videogames, Marco's freckles, and Marco's touch…above all he wanted to tell him, tell him how he really felt about him, how close they really were. Last time he was about to tell him, it happened; the 'accident'.

Tears began to whelm in his eyes again, trying not to remember the accident.

Knock, knock.

Slam.

-"Come on! Let us in!"

-"Don't worry kids, we won't hurt you."

Jean tried his best not to freak out while three guys outside slammed the door. Were they planning to rob or something? It was obvious they weren't looking for candy tonight, Halloween night. They were about to put on their costumes: Jean with the milk costume and Marco with the cookie costume. Until three guys appeared not looking for candy.

He looked back and saw that they were making their way to the backyard door. He gasped.

-"I got this!"- Marco shouted from afar, closing the door just in time. When the thieves knocked hard on the back door, Marco, startled, walked back to Jean, his legs trembling with fear, but he still managed to form a smile on his face to comfort Jean, -"Don't worry, Jean, we'll figure something out."

Jean was unsure of that. The three thieves were armed. With what? Jean didn't know and he couldn't see either, it was his guess and he was sure he was right.

Usually, Jean was the tough guy, fighting in school with whoever mocked Marco, but he now realized that in real emergencies, Marco was the brave one.

-"Here. Take this."- Marco said and he threw Jean a kettle while he took the pan, -"It's what we have."

-"What…?"- Jean looked at his freckled friend. The pan in his hand shakes along with his whole body. Thirteen year old boys against…

-"Three adults: forty-six, fifty-nine and thirty-five… I think,"- Marco said, lowly, almost like a whisper but with the intention that Jean would hear. Marco was always the one analyzing everything: every math problem, every game, every book…

-"What? We can't win against them! It's impossible!"- Jean shouted to the freckled boy beside him, -"Just call the police or something!"- That's when the knocking and slamming got louder from the front and the back.

-"Already did, they… didn't answered, Jean. It's up to us now,"- Marco said, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder and giving him the biggest smile, -"You just gotta believe in yourself and we might pull this off."- Though, deep down, he was scared too.

Jean was still unsure, but he trusted his best friend. If they were together as a team, they can do anything; it has always been like that…

Bam, bam!

Gunshots were heard from the outside and the sound of a broken glass. Then, slowly, the man's hand was seen trying to open the front door's knob from the broken window. 'They're in…' Jean told himself and in the moment, Marco was already dashing forwards and slamming the man's hand with the pan. "God dammit!"- The man shouted from outside as he pulled his hand out, cutting his hand with the broken window. Then, he put it inside again, only this time, he had the gun and quickly began to shot. Marco dodged, covering his head and running towards the kitchen, hiding behind the counter. Jean did the same.

Slightly opening the door, the tall man stepped inside and looked around angrily, -"You son of a bitch! Where the fuck are you?"- The man asked, looking for the kids.

Jean could hear the back door open.

-"Look for the brat!"

They began searching. Marco and Jean could hear each other's heart beating fast. When they reached the kitchen counters, Marco whispered, -"Run a-"

-"I found them!"

-"Run!"- Jean shouted and ran for his life, but was stopped by a strong arm pulling his shirt back and wrapping his strong arms around Jean's neck, -"Oh uh, where do you think you're going, little brat? You think you can hit a grown up like that? Where are your manners?"- The man said to Jean as he threw the pot away from the boy's reach, -"You have nowhere to go."

-"Hey!"- Marco shouted from behind, his cheeks red with fury, -"Leave him alone!"

The thieves looked at his direction, -"Another brat, huh? What are you going to do, freckle?"

Marco ran towards the thief holding Jean and began hitting him again, -"Leave. Him. Alone."

-"Stop it, you brat!"- The man let go of Jean and slapped Marco away. Then, he walked towards Marco, taking the pan, patting it with his palm, as his leg pinned Marco to the floor,-"So, you're the one without manners, eh? Let's see if this makes you remember."- The man began hitting Marco in the floor.

Marco grunted in pain, shrinking his body as the man kept hitting him everywhere: legs, arms, chest and when he hit him in the head, Jean took a step forward, but was stopped by the other thieves and taken hold of him, forced to see Marco's suffering. Jean kept struggling to set free as Marco's grunts and moans got louder, until finally… cries, -"Stop… please."- Jean begged.

-"Yeah, I think that would teach him not to mess with the grown-ups,"- Then, he stared at Jean, -"That goes for you too, so don't try anything funny or you'll end up like freckles over there."

As one thief ordered the other one to keep an eye on Jean, the boy just stared at his friend, lying on the floor… his weak body was covered with bruises and scratches, his left eye swollen .He was shrunk, hiding himself, probably preventing to be seen by Jean, but then, he realized that Marco wasn't moving at all…, -"Marco…"- He called him out, -"Marco…"

-"Shut up,"- Jean was smacked in the head.

Jean gasped when he saw Marco struggling to stand up.

Within a second, he was stabbed in the neck while trying to help Jean out. It happened too fast.

Blood was spread.

And the only thing Marco said after he was stabbed was, -"Run, Jean, run!"

Jean shakes his mind away from the memory, trying not to remember the moment when Marco was stabbed to death, but it was useless. He lived four years with those memories at the back of his mind, until today. After that happened, the police arrived and the thieves had run away. He didn't know what happened to those three. Nobody told him, probably because the doctors didn't wanted to remind him of the murder. Jean was taken to a hospital, more likely to a psychologist where he received proper treatment for four years. That had helped him forget what happened back then, even though he visited the cemetery often. He just had the idea that it was an 'accident'. What kind of accident? He could never tell. Until today, when he read that book of necromancy where 'you can revive those who you loved the most' and suddenly, he remembered everything and stopped going to the medics.

Now, he was in his room, crying with the person he loved the most right in front of him, -"I thought it was all gone, Marco… the pain. I- I'm ashamed of myself for trying to forget what happened. I was a fool to think that it's done, that I could run away like you told me, but I can't. Not anymore,"- He said as he lifted the book, -"It's been four years… but not anymore."

He began to chant the exact words that were scribbled in the book for the revival of someone. Each word sent a cold shiver down his spine and the room was clouded with an awful feel. It was cold and the room got darker. He felt like stopping, but he couldn't stop. He had made his decision, and he wasn't going to run away. His hands trembled uncontrollably, his lips got dry and his body shivered with coldness.

When he finished the chanting, Jean stared at Marco, waiting for his movements, but nothing happened. What could have gone wrong? Did he forget a section? Should he read it louder? Were all the candles lit? He verified everything and it's was all perfect.

Suddenly, he heard knocks on the door. Shit! He cursed. Quickly, he took his bed's sheets and hid Marco's coffin from whoever was on the door. Whoever it was, it must have sensed something. Maybe it was those 'exorcists'. Jean got nervous. He left the room, closing the door and heard singing, -"Halloween, trick or treat…,"

Oh, it's just kids looking for candies…, He told himself and sighed. Ever since Marco's murder, he had grown to hate Halloween. It wasn't the same without Marco; in fact, nothing was the same without Marco. Though, last time they tough it was kids knocking on the door looking for candies… Marco ended up dead, but he wasn't here anymore and since Jean had gotten over it, he had saved candies for the kids. He sighed again, the sooner he gave them candy, the sooner he can get back to work.

He grabbed the candy bag and opened the door. His eye widen when he saw three guys dressed up as demons and a skull mask with a gun on their hand, pointing at Jean, -"Inside."- The one in the middle said lowly and Jean stepped back inside. When the last one was inside, he slowly closed the door. Jean tried to calm himself and just hoped that someone saw that, -"Drop the candies."-Jean did as told and dropped the candy bag.

The other guy took it and began eating. Then, they all took their masks off and Jean immediately recognized them: the guys who murdered Marco.

-"You-!"

The one who told Jean to step inside, dashed forward and pushed Jean to the wall, rising his shirt so Jean could feel the gun's cold surface. He was Marco's murdered, the one who stabbed him, the leader of this gang. Slowly leaning into Jean's ear, he pressed the gun harder and Jean could feel its cold dead surface even more, -"Yell or do anything funny and I'll shoot, you hear me? You can do nothing now. Yeah, that's right, your freckled pal is dead now and thanks to that, we can steal everything like we were supposed to four years ago."- The thug, thief and bastard whispered, -"Last time, I let you live, but not today."

Jean said nothing and looked away. The cold sensation of the gun in his waist made him anxious, sending shivers all over his body. He saw as Marco's murdered made his way to his room. Jean quickly moved from his position and tried pulling him away from the room, -"No! Leave him alone!"- He yelled.

The thug turned around and pointed the gun to Jean's waist, only this time, he shoot. Jean couldn't hear the loud sound the gun made, but he did felt dead coming to him. Of course, a muffler. As he fell, he saw as the ceiling above him turned smaller and the drops of his blood flying. With his vision blurry, he saw the thug above him, -"I told you. Now you're going to see your friend. Well, thanks for making the job easier. Bye bye."

It was happening all over again. He hated Halloween night. Why? Was it because he kept running?

Jean rolled to the side with pain and saw as the thug entered his room. He stretched his hand, -"M-Marco… not again…,"- He said without breath. The aching in his abdomen was excruciating. He gripped his side tightly, the blood running down his finger over to his side of the face, tainting it. He grunted. Trying to crawl to the room, the other thug pinned him down, -"Wow, you've grown up little one. Was it the milk you-"

-"Holy shit! No! What are you!? Stay back!"- Jean heard the thug inside his room shout in fear and he ran away from the room. Outside, he ordered his other thugs inside to kill something. Marco.

Jean saw how Marco slowly stepped out of his room, like a dead corpse… like a zombie in the movies. Jean gasped, but then grunted. Hearing this, dead Marco slightly turned his head around to look at Jean and his black eyes widen. Jean eyes widen also as he saw Marco's pale face and his freckles. It worked… Marco walked slowly to Jean and kneeled beside him, touching Jean's injury. When blood was tainted in his fingertips, Marco flinched. Jean just stared at him and so did Marco, -"J-Jean…"- He said lowly.

-"Why… you're supposed to be dead!"- A thug said and shot Marco in the shoulder, whose eyebrow's twitched and frowned. The bullets couldn't harm him, so he stood up and took a knife; the knife with Jean's blood. The knife Jean used for Marco's revival.

Jean's eyes closed. He couldn't hold the pain, even though a voice had told him to keep strong, to hold on to. Was it Marco? Even so, he heard shouts and screams from the thugs and blood splashing everywhere. When he managed to open them for a moment, he saw Marco in the middle of the three dead thugs with the bloodied knife on his cold pale hand; then slowly, he was walking towards Jean again.

When Marco kneeled beside Jean again, everything went dark.

Muttering. Muttering.

-"Why, Jean… why did you do it?"- When Jean opened his eyes to the light, he saw Marco walking side to side with his finger in his mouth like a moustache, like he always does.

-"Because… I love you…,"- Jean, obliviously, whispered. Marco heard and halted.

He though he was dead, until he looked at himself and saw his bare chest wrapped up in a bandage. To his side, he saw the bullet with his blood, -"Jean!"- Marco gasped and went over to Jean, slowly putting his hand on the covered up injury, -"H-how are you feeling?"

Jean couldn't answer him; he was occupied starring at him. It worked… it really worked…, His chain of thoughts were not interrupted by Marco's voice again, -"I can't believe it… it really worked."- Tears began to form in Jean's eyes, falling down like a cascade. He covered his mouth and cried. Marco was about to speak again until Jean pulled him down towards him, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Marco caressed Jean's arm, -"Everything's okay now, Jean…,"

-"I thought I was going to lose you again…,"- He began to mourn to himself, -"I thought I failed again, I thought that I had no other choice but to run again, I thought that I had to… forget you again."- Jean squeezed Marco. He was afraid that Marco wouldn't be there if he let go. With pain, he still clung to Marco, grunting.

Marco grabbed Jean arms and pulled himself away from his grip, looking at his eyes, -"Jean, calm down… I'm here, everything's alright now. You need to rest, you were shot recently."

Oh god, he's even speaking.

Marco pushed Jean back to his bed, -"I'm the one that can't believe it, Jean… you just did necromancy and you're alive,"- He was amazed. Not everybody can do necromancy and walk away. Even so, he was worried.

-"I would've been dead if it wasn't for… you,"- Jean smiled, tears still falling.

Marco just couldn't believe it, -"Jean, I thought I told you to run… to forget me. What if I didn't wake up? You'd be dead."-

Jean sat up again, gripping his side tightly, -"You think I can forget my friend?"- He had to say it somehow, -"Marco, I can't keep on like this. Nothing's the same without you, I… I can't help it. I thought I could live up with it but I can't."- Jean said and looked away. When would he say it? –"I would never leave you alone. That means that… I can't live without you."

Marco stared at him, something in his friend changed, -"Jean, I don't know…,"- A lot of memories from when he was alive began to flow in: their times in school when Jean always stood up for him whenever someone mocked him, Marco trying to help Jean with math problems, when they saw movies, ate popcorn, played videogames… he couldn't help himself. Tears began to whelm in his eyes also. Jean… was just too much. He went through all that just to be with Marco. He really was someone special for Jean, someone worth sacrificing something for. Then, he remembered, -"Did you mean it?"

Jean looked up to him and tilted his head to side, curious, -"Mean what?"- Marco's pale skin could hide his tears, but not from Jean.

-"That you… did necromancy b-because you um… love me? More than just a f-friend?"- Marco didn't know if his cheek blushed, but he sure felt his cold cheeks burn. As tears fell, he looked directly into Jean's eyes.

Jean blushed, still keeping eye contact with Marco, -"Did I say… that?" – Jean asked and when Marco nodded, he scratched the back of the neck nervously, -"Y-yeah… I've wanted to tell you that before… you were killed,"- He looked at Marco's dark eyes, -"You're more special than you think, Marco and I'm willing to give up anything for you, even... my life. You weren't supposed to die like that… if I had acted sooner, you'd be…"

Marco's face lit up in joy as he rubbed his cheek with his finger, like he always did, not hearing Jean anymore. As a dead corpse, he shouldn't be feeling nothing, but since Jean got shot he felt worried, nervous, sad and now happiness. Just like Jean, he had felt something more than a friendship with him, but he never told him, he was too shy. He was planning to… the day he died.

Unable to control his joy, he leaned down towards Jean and kissed him, -"M-Marco!"- Jean muttered under Marco's snuggles and kisses. Though, he didn't bother one bit, instead, he returned the kisses. Suddenly, he saw how slowly Marco's skin lived again, -"Marco… your skin…,"- Marco looked down at his hand, its true alive color slowly running up to his face. Marco's eye widen as he slowly felt them alive and could now see Jean's brown horse hair, brown eyes and tanned skin. While so, the memories flowed into him even more and he felt more alive than ever. Recently, he was just a dead corpse healing someone he though he knew, someone he recognized, but didn't know who. He was dead, feeling as if his body would turn to dust any second, but while healing him, each memory crashed into him.

Jean's eye widen also. Of course, he remembered, 'A kiss is the final ingredient for the revival of your love'. Sitting up, Jean leaned his body into Marco's chest and tears began to fall again when he heard the smoothing sound of his heart beats.

-"You're alive…,"- Jean cried.

-"I never felt so alive before…,"- Marco cried too, caressing Jean's hair while lifting his chin up and kissing him.

Jesus... this is supposed to be a short story. Ugh, I have that bad habit of writing to much xD To be honest, I was planning on putting a dark ending, but since you guys won't like it, then... here you have it!

Too long? Too short? Should I make a series of One Shots? Let me know ;) Thanks for reading!