Alrighty, here's a fanfic for all of you. This may have a few headcanons here and there, but it's not like it'll matter. Sorry if this sucks, it's my first time writing a fanfic like this. If you like it, though, that's cool too! :) If you have any suggestions on how I should improve, let me know. I might make this a series of one-shots, if I get enough support for it.

"Momma!"

She smiled, arms open wide as Marco ran up to embrace her. He jumped up into her arms, squeezing her with all the strength he could muster. After a few seconds, his mother set him down, then asked, "So, how was your first day of school?"

Marco's face lit up as he replied, "It was really fun! We got to learn about all sorts of stuff, and we plaaaaaayed..."

His mother smiled. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Oh! B-But I still wanted to come home and see you, of course!"

To prove his point, he hugged her again, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She laughed a bit, returning the embrace. "Well, that's good. I wouldn't want you spending the night at school."

Marco giggled a bit, then said, "I love you, Momma."

She stroked the back of his head, then said, "I love you, too."

She heard the door open as she was preparing dinner, signaling that her son had just arrived home.

"How was your day, Marco?" she asked, turning to him with a smile.

"It was great! Some Military Police came buy and told us all about their jobs! They even work for the king!"

"I didn't know that," she lied, "How interesting!"

"I know! They're so cool!" he replied.

There were a few moments of silence before Marco muttered, "I wanna work for the king someday..."

His mother turned to look at him. His eyes were full of determination and wonder, and shined with admiration. The smile on his face told her that he was dead-set on following his dream.

"If you work hard and stick to it, I'm sure you will." she said.

His face spread into a wide grin. "Really?"

She smiled. "Of course!"

After that, he couldn't stop smiling.

"It's okay, Mom, it's okay..."

She held Marco in a tight embrace, crying into his shoulder. At 12 years old, he was as tall as her, which was about 157 centimeters. There was a bag hanging off his shoulder, which was packed with his most treasured belongings.

She didn't want to cry. She felt as if she were holding him back, preventing him from working towards his dream to the best of his ability. Yet she couldn't help but think of all the memories they had shared: his first day of school, the nights where he would ask his mother to sing to him before he slept...

"I...," she said, choking back sobs, "I'll miss you... so much..."

He gently returned her embrace, and said,

"I'll miss you, too."

She sat in a chair, reading a book as rays of sunlight poured out from an open window. She had been very worried, and lonely, for the first year after he left for military training.

His father had left them when Marco was two years old, leaving her on her own to take care of him. It had been a struggle at first, but after a year or so, she managed to get along just fine. When Marco asked why he didn't have a father, she ended up tearing up, and he tried to apologize. She told him there was no need to apologize, but he said he wouldn't ask her again. He had told her he didn't want to make her sad again.

After the first year of Marco being gone, she had gotten out more, spending time to herself or with her friends. She had even met up with a couple gentlemen for lunch and dinner. However, she always thought of Marco, and she knew that he was following his dream.

However, there had been news of an attack on Trost District just recently, and she had gotten worried. She tried to believe with all her heart that Marco was okay, but that didn't prevent her from wondering if he was dead.

No, she would tell herself, He's not dead. I know he isn't.

In fact, even as she read the book in her hand, she was trying not to worry about him. She tried with all her might to focus on the words, not her thoughts. Even then, though, a few distressing thoughts managed to slip through.

She suddenly heard a knock at the door, bringing her to her senses. She got out of her chair to look through the window, which provided a view of their front steps. She saw a military uniform with the Training Corps emblem on the sleeve.

Marco!

She knew it! He was okay, she thought, he was okay!

She rushed to the door, almost bursting with joy that her son had come home to visit. She swung the door open, a smile plastered across her face.

"Marco-!"

She froze.

The boy at the door wasn'tMarco.

He stared down at her, his hand right hand over his heart. "A-Are you Mrs. Bodt?"

She simply nodded, too afraid to speak.

He did not lower his hand. His voice shook as he said, "I, Cadet Jean Kirschtein, have been sent here...to...to inform you..."

His voice had begun to fail him at this point, and his teeth were gritted as if he were trying not to cry. She began to tear up as he said,

"Cadet...M-Marco Bodt..."

She couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears began streaming down her face. She covered her mouth, trying not to scream from the unbearable pain and grief.

"Has lost his life in the fight against the titans!"

His voice was so full of pain and despair that she fell to her knees, sobbing into the folds of her dress. She screamed, trying to release all of her grief and suffering, but to no avail.

As she wept, all her memories of him flashed before her eyes: his smile, his laugh, the way he would try to keep his eyes open when she was reading him a bedtime story...the day he left for military training...

And she remembered his dream.

She sobbed louder, the boy still standing in the doorway. Her tears streamed down her face in a never-ending river. She shook with each grief-stricken sob, rocking back and forth with her face buried in her hands.

She would never be able to see Marco live out his dream.