Jean was sobbing, scraped knees on the pavement, alone in a dark back alley. Pain shooting through his side with every breath he took, one eye swollen, cheeks bruised, blood dripping somewhere from his nose or lips. The air was grey and cold. He was cold. He vaguely wondered if they'd thrown his jacket in the snow nearby. They… A broken sound crawled out of Jean's throat and he sobbed again.

"Fucking faggot!" One of them growled, throwing Jean to the ground, kicking him in the ribs until a whine broke from Jean's throat and he tried not to cry. He couldn't tell who's limbs were who's anymore but fists were aiming for face now. It probably lasted less than a minute, but it felt endless, new shocks of pain continually beating through him like a rhythm. It might as well be endless when you're not strong enough to fight back. "You're a waste of skin you disgusting fag." Then there were hands on his neck and he was coughing and gasping for air, weakly trying to pull the hands off as they pressed deeper and he felt like he was choking on the bones of his own throat. He must've looked like he was about to die or pass out because they pulled back, and with a few more kicks to his ribs and spits on his face, they were leaving. "Maybe he'll finish it off himself so we don't have to get our hands dirty, he should know now he doesn't deserve to live- to be a man."

Jean pulled himself to his knees, shaking and crying out as the movement shot sharp pain through his ribs, making him feel nauseous. When they'd been gone a few moments Jean let himself cry, tried not to hate himself. They were the bad ones, they were full of hate.. Jean was just- he hiccupped, hearing the crunch of boots coming towards him through the snow. He bit his quivering lip, stiffening and trying to stop the tears. Did they must've come back to finish it? He didn't want to die-

"Hey." Jean blinked, that voice was different. Soft. So soft.

He looked up, and there was a boy about his age and beautiful; kind face spattered with freckles, his entire body framed by sun, sun Jean had sworn was shadowed by cloud and snow just seconds ago- it almost made him look like-

"God?" Jean mumbled out loud, his voice scratchy and flat.

There was a soft hum, almost like a laugh. "No, not god. Come with me." The boy murmured, holding a hand out to him.

Looking up at him in shock, Jean felt another tear slide down his cheek, the boy may as well have been god, he was a lifeline for Jean now. Jean weakly took his hand, wincing as raising his arm caused more pain. "A-are you sure?" He rasped, the boy seemed to wince with him when he noticed Jean's pain. He quickly wiped Jean's tears with his sleeve so they wouldn't be cold on his face.

"Mhm. You need help and I'm here, can't leave you here all beat up in the cold." The boy said, kneeling and wrapping his free arm around Jean's shoulders and that was that. "Try to stand with me on 3 okay?"

Now they were walking to the boys' house which apparently wasn't far from here and Jean was glad. The boy stopped for a moment as a particularly harsh shiver rippled through Jean. He sighed and let go of Jean's hand for a moment, helping him to lean against a wall before taking off his own jacket. "You're freezing" He mumbled, pulling the jacket around Jean as gently as he could and fitting his arms through even though the jacket was a bit small on the taller boy.

"Don't- you'll be cold." Jean protested but the boy shook his head and wrapped his arm around Jean again, holding him close to share heat. "You've been without a jacket for too long, I'll be fine until we get home." Jean shivered again but now it might've been at the feeling of having the jacket and the boys' warm hands on him. It felt healing, he couldn't believe how lucky he was that someone had come to his aid, especially someone so gentle. The boy intertwined their fingers, trying to cover as much of Jean from the cold as possible as they slowly shuffled to Marco's place.

"My name is Marco by the way." The boy said quietly. "And we're almost home."

"Marco." Jean repeated to himself, voice sounding a little less wrecked now. "I'm Jean. I can't- I don't know how to… thank you." He sighed. "Just yeah- thanks for this, I uh, don't know what I would've done." He mumbled. He wasn't used to being so vulnerable in front of a stranger.

"Its nothing." Marco shrugged honestly. "Its just not my nature to leave someone cold and hurt in the snow. We can get you to a hospital soon and-"

"No! please don't-" Marco's eyebrows furrowed and it looked like he was gonna fight Jean on this. "Jean-"

"I- sorry, its just, my ma works at the hospital, don't want her to see me like this." He muttered and Marco's expression softened as he started walking them up to an apartment complex that must've been his.

"Alright- maybe. We'll see what I can do for you but if you need real help I might make you go. Is there anyone I should call for help? Family? Friends? Anyone who should know?"

"Friends maybe, but could we wait a bit to tell them? I don't want them to worry. Don't want ma to worry and I probably won't see her until next week. Maybe she doesn't have to know. She'll have a god damn heart attack."

"Maybe they should be worried. How did you get into this mess?" Marco asked and Jean just blanched. Marco decided to leave it alone.