So, I have officially written the first part of my Titan!Marco AU that I have been slowly writing for the past like three months. I hope you guys enjoy this and uh, I hope nothing like this already exists? If you are interested in reading this on Archive of Our Own, it is posted there under the same name and I am r2mich2 there as well. :)
Warnings: Blood, Gore, Inflicted Harm, Betrayal, Manga Spoilers, Anime Spoilers, attempted Kidnapping.
Pairings: Jean/Marco
He could feel Bertholdt and Reiner standing behind him. "I-I can do it. I swear." He muttered, trying to convince them. All of Trost was falling to pieces around them and they'd decided that he needed to rethink his priorities.
"We like you Marco, you're the perfect human. Almost too perfect." Reiner spoke ominously from behind and he could feel a shiver go down his spine. He knew he was becoming too attached to the humans and he was losing sight of their cause.
Forcing down a gulp of air, Marco turned his head to face Reiner and Bertholdt. "Don't do this." He whispered. He knew plenty of pain and he knew exactly how much pain the two were willing to put him through for their job. It only made him want to go out there and show that he was able to. He wanted to prove that he was worth the wait. He wanted to prove that he wasn't just a good human but a good titan as well.
Reiner was shaking his head and Bertholdt looked upset to see that Marco was doing so badly. For a split second, Marco wondered if Bertholdt and Reiner had ever actually been his friends. Did they ever see him more than a business associate?
There was a sudden thump behind him as someone landed on the ground just inches away from Marco. Shaking now, his breath hitched in his throat and he tried forcing down the tears. Where was the strong leader that he'd become for the humans? Where was the objective and caring freckled boy that many of the trainees looked up to?
He paid acute attention to the presence behind him. Without even turning, he could tell it was Annie. He could hear her steady breathing and the lack of change this put into her composure. She was ready to do what needed done. "Take this as a warning," Reiner spoke, leaning down slightly to look into Marco's highly focused eyes. "If you cannot complete the task within the appropriate time, we'll dispose of you. It's our higher orders. We're only doing our job."
Marco tightened his fists just as the calm voice spoke behind him. "You should think about doing yours." Annie's monotone rang through his mind just as he felt the slice of the blade go through him, dangerously close to the weak spot at the nape of his neck. Severe and normally fatal damage to the right side of the torso caused him to fall to the floor, leaning against a damaged building.
Annie leaned down to grab his three dimensional maneuver gear as he was left like a husk where he was. The blade had taken a good chunk of his face as well, chipping at the skull and damaging the eye.
Marco felt the steam billowing off his features but nothing else after they had gone. Knowing that if he healed the injuries more than necessary that he would be punished, Marco cut the healing process the second he could be deemed 'alive' by human standards. The remainder of his right arm that had been cut off in the process evaporated, leaving him to look like he'd been attacked by a titan and nothing else.
The ironic thing was, that was exactly what happened.
Jean hadn't seen most of his friends throughout the Trost cleanup. Almost all of them were helping out identifying bodies and disposing of them. Clearing damage seemed hopeless. The titans had torn apart buildings and the blood staining the streets was likely to never go. The stains would be there forever, even if eventually they visibly disappeared with time.
What was the worst was the stench. The smell of death and decomposing was hanging in the air, forcing members of the military to wear cloth over their mouths and noses to prevent ingestion. It was foul and horrifying and it would be ages before Trost ever lost that smell as well.
Stains of blood and the smell of death. That seemed to be all that would greet humanity in the future, regardless of what the survey corps could do. Fools, Jean internally muttered. He figured it was best to stay inside the walls until the titans broke through. The survey corps had a broken dream. What good did it do to go out there and risk your life for a future that didn't exist?
Scanning the next street, he vaguely recognized an old friend's house. It was likely they were dead now. Briefly, Jean wondered if his family was alright but he knew the likelihood was minimal and had heard there had been a delay in the process of evacuating the district.
He tried not to think of how he'd react if he saw his mother or sister in one of the giant rotten balls that the titans vomited when they got too full. Sasha had muttered a word about seeing one up close, filled with people whose faces were plastered with terror and agony. Jean wondered what it would be like inside of a titan, still alive, but already on your way to death.
Spotting what was another ruined and bloodied body, Jean stumbled on weak legs in the direction of it. It needed to be identified, removed, and burned. Yet, once his eyes focused on the figure, he spotted the face. Half bloodied but still for the most part intact at least aside from skin, and dusted with freckles hidden underneath dirt and grime. Midnight black hair that was coated with dried blood shifted slightly in the breeze.
His heart almost shuddered to a stop in his chest. At least he had a chest. What he knew to be his friend's body was lacking both a right arm and most of the skin on the right part of the chest. Bloodied organs and gross muscles peeked out underneath ripped, pinkish flesh. Whatever titan had gotten hold of him had done a good number. There was no way someone could survive that and then live through two days of clean up without any assistance.
But yet Jean saw the miniscule movement of the chest rising, or what was left of the chest, as what one would expect to be an inhale took place. "M-Marco?" Jean muttered, figuring he might have been wrong and it was the wind rustling his torn and bloodied clothes as well.
One unfocused eye that had been focused on the floor twitched before slowly swiveling to look in Jean's direction.
Jean's heart skipped a beat in both relief and absolute horror. Marco was alive, yes, but he was living in a state that would cause absolute and agonizing pain. How could Marco have hung on through that? How was he able to breathe with such damage to his chest?
Quickly dashing forward on numb limbs, Jean dropped to his knees beside his friend's body. "Marco, oh my god, oh god…" Jean couldn't find the words to say as the barely open eye vaguely focused on him. It was like the only part of him that was alive.
Knowing that probably with the amount of damage Marco had suffered that there was no way he could survive much longer, he turned towards the few other people in the streets. There had to be a medic somewhere. Someone had to have seen him. Why hadn't he been helped? He was still alive for god's sake!
"Medic! Someone please!" Jean shouted. His tone was turning hysterical. His friend was likely dying. His friend had watched medics pass by without even a glint in his direction to see if maybe he was alive. How could no one help him or see him?
Pulling down the white cloth over his face and ready to untie it and use it for whatever help he could, Jean almost didn't feel the feather light touch to his arm. Still in a state of shock higher than what he'd ever been in before, Jean turned back towards his friend's nearly dead body.
Marco's throat moved as though he was trying to say something but only more blood spilled from his lips and the sinews of the nearly visible vocal chords. There had to have been damage to his vocal chords as he tried to speak. Not able to form words either, Jean just stared into the dulled and hazed eyes. Footsteps echoed down the street behind him as medics ran forward to help.
The hand that Marco used to reach towards him and touch him, alerting him of his presence, was instantly taken into both of Jeans gloved ones. There was so much pain and suffering in those eyes. There was so much sadness.
"It's okay. You're not alone anymore. I'm right here and I'll stay right next to you for as long as you need me and longer. Please," Jean could feel the tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. "Just stay with me. I know it'll be hard but keep holding on, okay."
Marco's eyes seemed to turn from sad to guilty. Jean wasn't aware of how guilty Marco really felt but he knew just how much pain his friend was going through as a dirty tear slid down Marco's face. Jean could barely spot the freckles under the blood and grime. The tears seemed to clear at least a small pathway to remind him that this was his freckled friend.
Medics began crouching down on either side of the two and as much as the men would have liked for Jean to step back, he didn't move an inch. He held onto Marco's hand with all his might and tried to force some warmth back into the cold fingers.
All of it was like a blur as the men began shouting orders and started working their surgery right there in the street where all of the clouded skies could see. Jean tried not to look and just held onto Marco's hand, staring into the one solitary dull eye like it was a life line.
He never once broke eye contact. He didn't want to. He was afraid that if he looked away, that one sign that Marco was alive would flitter away and the freckled man beneath him would be gone.
Marco didn't deserve this. Jean couldn't find a world where Marco would ever deserve what he got during the battle of Trost. Jean could only hope that whatever titan bit into him suffered a painful death and that maybe one of their friends had killed it.
Jean could only hope.
Marco awoke in the hospital with a jolt and for a moment had to focus on whether or not he'd allowed himself to heal while he was unconscious. Luckily, it hadn't been so. His right arm was still missing and the gaping hole it left behind was messily stitched together by the medical personnel of the Survey Corps. While wavering in and out of consciousness, he found out that the division had been quick to take him. They had the best trauma doctors and they were sure he had fought valiantly. He wondered briefly if the Military Police would ever spare a moment on someone who had almost died like a fool in battle.
The kindness of the Survey Corps far exceeded that of those behind the walls. Marco was lucky for their kindness. It brought him closer to his goal, even with how much he resented it. He knew exactly where they would have taken the titan shifter after the wall had been closed.
Trying to steady his breathing and find a pattern, he looked about with his half vision. It was annoying and frustrating but he knew that if he healed, he'd give away his position and then Annie or Reiner would have to take him out. This was part of the punishment. This was what he'd dished out when he couldn't do his job.
Heaving in a nervous breath, he heard someone shift in the darkness and turned to look at where Jean was slumped in a chair beside the bed that Marco had been placed in. Jean was successfully asleep, though not exactly comfortably. He was still dressed in the same clothes from the moment where he found him, white cloth hanging loosely around his neck and gloves up to his biceps.
There was so much blood all over him. Marco wished it could have evaporated like normal but he had willed it not to and that was the way it would stay.
Vaguely he wondered how much time had passed since he had been operated on in the middle of that street and then again operated on back in the hospital wing of the Survey Corps main headquarters behind the walls and inside the city. It shouldn't have been too long if Jean hadn't been forced to change.
He avoided looking at the fellow trainee. Marco wondered if they could even be friends anymore. Sure, Jean would see no reason for it but Marco was painfully aware of everything that the two tone haired teen wasn't. Marco knew what he came to the inside of the walls for. Marco knew what would happen to humanity. Jean didn't.
Worst of all, Marco had tricked him. Marco had forced the male into thinking that Marco was human and that he had good morals. Sure, maybe he'd developed some of those morals with the three years spent in the camp but they couldn't really exist. He'd gone without them for too long. He couldn't hold to them if he tried, or so he thought.
Marco had put Jean through so much emotional pain in the past few days and it was all over something that Marco should have done that would inevitably ruin their friendship anyway. Either way, there was no future for Marco within the walls now. He had his job that he would finish and then he'd be gone. He'd be free to go.
The tears trailing down his face were hot and annoying but at first had gone unnoticed. That was until his breath hitched in his throat and he forced the air back down, trying to steel himself into calm.
He didn't know if he could do it. He had no idea how he would be able to, now that he'd made friends and looked into the faces of those humans as though they could trust him with everything. He'd made them like him. He'd earned their trust and now he was going to rip it in half and throw it over the wall like the piece of garbage that Marco knew he himself was.
He didn't want this anymore but he needed it. He needed it to stay alive or else he would be dead and where would that get him? Nowhere. He'd get nowhere if he was dead. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing?
The rustling of Jean's clothes as he started to wake up drew Marco from his dark thoughts. He tried to turn and look but Jean was seated at his right side. Frantically trying to make a decision, Marco forced himself to shut his eyes and relax as though he were asleep and waited to see if it had worked.
There was a groan of discomfort as Jean resituated himself in the chair and ran a hand through his dirty hair. He needed a bath like no other. Grumbling unintelligible words, Jean glanced towards his friend's seemingly unconscious body and frowned. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know what he could do now. Marco wouldn't be able to do much of anything once he healed. He was one armed and without one eye. Doctors said it was a damned miracle he somehow stayed alive through two days of that damage and no help.
"I can't believe this happened to someone like you." He murmured, tired gaze turning towards the door that was closed and locked. He didn't want anyone coming in to see Marco without his permission. He knew that the second Marco would wake up he'd have a lot of trouble trying to deal with the situation. There'd be a lot of panic and pain. The hurt Marco was feeling was tremendous.
Sighing for the millionth time that day, Jean settled into his seat once more. Hopefully Marco would wake up in the morning.
The crowd waiting for Marco to wake up the next morning was larger than he would have ever wanted. Truthfully, he'd barely even gotten to fall asleep again after he heard Jean make that small comment in the dark of the room the night before but he hadn't expected for his short nap to end up with him surrounded by his old trainee mates.
"Marco!" Sasha smiled the second he opened his one eye, glancing and looking out at the hoard of kids now surrounding him. Jean looked thoroughly displeased and Marco was confused as to why there were so many of his friends around him.
At first Marco thought he could handle it but then he noticed the two blonds, one large, one small, and the tall brunette standing between them. Panic set in immediately, perfectly playing into Jean's worry as to whether or not Marco would freak the second he woke up.
Unable to speak still because of the damage to his vocal chords, he just struggled to sit up in the bed and move away from the crowd that now felt like it was suffocating him. Jean was there in seconds, crouching beside Marco and trying to calm him down. "Woah, Marco its okay. It's just your friends. They're here to tell you to get well soon." Jean tried to reassure Marco but the onset panic wasn't because of the crowd but so much who was in it.
Christa stepped forward to Marco as well just as Ymir shot a dangerous look towards the three in the corner that looked more like they were there for business rather than socially. She'd seen Marco wait until he saw those three to freak out.
"Marco, we're so sorry this happened." Christa apologized, sitting down on the edge of Marco's bed that had his undamaged side. Jean was protectively guarding the right side as though he didn't want anyone to hurt Marco even more than he already was.
Marco looked to Christa and the only thing he could notice was her blond hair was eerily similar in color to that of Annie's. He flinched as the onset memory came. Annie standing behind him, calmer than ever and poising a blade at the ready to slice him down, except now she took out his neck rather than his torso. He could see in his mind as he'd drop to the floor, his weakness exposed and his entire body beginning to evaporate.
He was hyperventilating and none of the teens in the room could figure out what to do to stop it. Sasha was panicked and ran from the room to go get help. Jean didn't dare touch Marco, knowing that the only thing he could reach out towards was an injured side.
Marco's one eye looked around wildly and it was clear he was no longer focusing on the situation at hand but instead regressing to whatever mindscape he had inside his stirred up head. Blood seemed to fill his vision. All of the humans dead, everyone dying, all the people he cared about eaten alive or murdered, titans towering over innocent people, Jean's face as – it was all too much.
It was Connie's voice that broke through and ironically, it had nothing to do with anything like what was going on in Marco's head. Maybe that was why it worked. "Remember when Shadis got angry at the commotion we were making and Mikasa said Sasha ripped a giant fart?" Connie asked, completely serious but there was a look in his eyes that said he was trying desperately to help and this was the only way he knew how.
Marco's one eye stopped darting around the room and looked towards Connie. His breathing stopped suddenly as he held his breath. Marco could remember that. He remembered Mikasa turning down Jean when he tried complimenting her. He remembered Sasha eating a potato at the welcoming ceremony to the trainee camp and getting forced to go run laps. He remembered that, of course he did.
Slowly Marco began to breathe again. It was like being reminded of the human aspect of his life had brought him back from whatever darkness he'd managed to descend into. Ymir was attempting to block his view of Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt by moving into his line of sight.
Connie moved to stand beside her and Marco carefully nodded his head, breathing almost normally now and letting his heart beat slow down. There was a look of thanks that came over the visible half of his face. The other was wrapped in blood stained bandages.
"Man, I swear. That guy scared the crap out of me but it was so much fun breaking the rules." Connie continued talking until he could see that Marco was back to normal aside from the physical injuries. Christa gave Connie a small, knowing smile. Leave it to the guy who never acted serious when situations got intense to break the tension for even Marco during a panic attack.
Marco nodded again and felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. The memories were safer than thinking about the future. He liked thinking of everything before it all happened. Back when he could be human and no one cared.
At some point, Sasha returned with a doctor but after seeing that Marco was fine she had the doctor leave once more. She seemed pleased that they had gotten Marco to calm down and knew that they should probably leave before it happened again. "Alright, go on then. Wish him good health and then we can go get some food!" Sasha demanded, shooing Bertholdt and Reiner towards the door.
Christa turned back towards Marco and Marco could now look at her without thinking she looked like Annie. She looked like Christa, not Annie. In fact, they looked nothing alike now that Marco could focus.
"We're glad that you're okay, Marco. When Jean told us what happened, I don't think any one of us could have expected it. We're sorry we couldn't help you sooner." Christa smiled softly and Marco couldn't help but think of the irony of that statement. Three of the people in the room knew and had caused what happened to him. Of course it was ironic.
She then stood up and started moving towards the door. Connie gave Marco a manly nod and a thumbs up while Sasha skirted people out the door. The three titan shifters left without a word to Marco. They had only been there as a presence.
Surprisingly, to Jean at least, Ymir was the last to leave. Ymir still stood beside Marco's bed when Christa left the room and Jean was sending her the stink eye but Ymir still lingered. She just stared at Marco for a while and Marco did the same. Jean had no idea what was actually there in the small conversation they were having by looking at each other but he wanted to.
Eventually, after a minute, Ymir turned towards Jean. "Go take a bath you pig. I'll keep an eye on him." She ordered more than suggested and Jean was about to protest had Marco not looked at Jean like he needed to go.
"Alright fine but if I come back and he's harmed more than he was when I left, I'll make sure you feel every bit of the pain that he did." Jean threatened before reluctantly leaving the room. Once he made it to the doorway, he turned around and shot Marco a careful look as if he was afraid that something would happen and then he was gone. He had every right to worry.
Making sure that the door was shut, Ymir faced Marco with a look on her face that read more as pity than anything else. "You can live like a human, you know." She stated as she walked over and Marco shook his head before gesturing towards the injuries. He didn't want to risk healing his vocal chords because if he did, the unnatural healing rate would show and people would question him.
Ymir frowned. "You don't have to listen to them. They don't mean anything and it's not like you can't defend yourself." She advised and Marco shook his head again. He gave her a familiar look that said 'I'm not you'.
The two freckled titan shifters were more than capable of acting human but Marco couldn't defend himself like Ymir could. He wasn't in the situation that she was before he crossed over the walls. He had been blackmailed, she hadn't. He'd been forced into this, she hadn't.
Ymir knew she had to agree that maybe Marco couldn't do the same things that she could but hell he could run away. He could run off with Jean Kirschstein for all she cared. Would the other shifters go after him if they had a larger purpose in mind? No.
"You can run away." Ymir suggested after a long bit of silence. Marco hadn't seemed to think of the idea. His chest tightened at the thought and he wondered if he could do that as a human or as a titan. He'd prefer if he was human.
Marco shook his head gain. He still wasn't sure about it.
Ymir didn't feel like waiting for him to come to a conclusion and turned around to walk back out of the room. "Just think about it." She said in an exasperated tone as she stepped outside of the room and waited until Jean returned.
Jean came back not only cleaned up but also with food for Marco. It wasn't anything solid, just some sort of soup, but it was food all the same. Ymir seemed to be gone by then but Jean saw it as a good thing. Marco was upset that Ymir, probably the only person who could protect him from the three shifters, was gone. He didn't want to spend time around Jean much either.
As much as his friendship with Jean was absolutely real and possibly may have had underlying feelings like that of Ymir's towards Christa, Marco knew that whatever relationship they could have had wouldn't last him doing what he was ordered to do.
"What did Ymir do while I was gone?" Jean asked, more so to figure out if Ymir had done anything offensive in any way rather than trying to figure out any master plan that Marco might be involved in. Marco shrugged, looking at the bowl of soup that Jean had brought with him.
Apparently it was in Jean's interests not to allow Marco to do anything for himself as the two tone haired male picked up a spoonful of the soup broth and moved it towards Marco expectantly. There was a nervous blush over Jean's cheeks like maybe he was thinking of some underlying meaning to the action but Marco ignored it and shook his head.
Confused and pulled from whatever odd fantasy that was taking place in his mind, Jean frowned and put the spoon back in the bowl. "You're not hungry?" He asked, concerned. Marco contemplated nodding but he really was indeed hungry. He hadn't eaten in days and he needed to wash away the taste of his own blood.
Marco instead voiced his opinion by reaching over with his one hand and taking hold of the spoon, much to Jean's displeasure. He was dead set on fending for himself. Jean didn't need to be there and he shouldn't be hanging out with a titan shifter like Marco, even if Jean wasn't aware of it.
Dejected and slightly upset by the fact Marco wouldn't let Jean take care of him, Jean just held the bowl out for Marco as he ate and stayed silent. There was something about the situation that confused him more than normal but he didn't want to ask his friend about it. Marco was without much of any pain medicines so he had to be hurting a lot still.
Halfway through the bowl of soup, Jean focused on telling Marco about what was going on. It would suit Marco better to think about something else other than how much pain he was in. "It's been a mess since the operation succeeded. You know we're in the Survey Corps headquarters right? The one in the city?" Jean asked and Marco briefly nodded before returning his attention back to the soup.
"Well, since Jaeger's all titan-like and such, they've been keeping him in the basement in case he turns into a titan. Lance Corporal Levi and Commander Erwin Smith have been keeping an eye on him…kind of cool but I personally don't think it'd be enough if Eren wanted to cause a problem." Jean started talking and barely noticed the tensing of Marco's shoulders as he started talking about Eren Jaeger.
Marco tried not to pay too much attention but Jean had just given him the location of Eren. If Marco wanted, he could get down there and do what he was supposed to.
Jean continued talking, not paying attention. "They'll be taking him to court in a few days to give a verdict. I know he turns into a titan but I don't think that's really a bad thing. The Military Police were talking about execution." He ended the statement in a mumble. He didn't really like what Eren's likely future was. As much as he disliked the guy, he didn't want him to die at the hands of the military.
Marco nodded his head, losing his appetite now as he pulled back and ran his hand over some of his stitches. They were getting pretty itchy. He didn't like waiting for things to heal naturally as much as he liked being human.
Realizing the discomfort Marco must have been in, Jean placed the bowl back in his lap and sat silently for a minute. "You know, I really wished I could have been there to help. I mean…what would have happened if you died and no one saw what happened? You would have died without anyone knowing how or…" He paused and shook his head as if trying to rid the thought from his brain. "You would have been alone."
Marco shot his friend a look of guilt again. He wanted to say that he was sorry for everything and he wanted to apologize. He knew that he had to do what he had to do. He caused Jean pain because he failed in the first place.
Carefully he reached out and placed his hand on Jean's, trying to get the other to feel better. For the most part it worked temporarily.
"Hey, at least now we can go to the Military Police. I've already been talking and you can do stuff even with the injuries." Jean said optimistically but there was still a tone of pain in his voice. He'd wanted to be with his friend till the end but now it seemed like maybe Marco wouldn't be his friend anymore. He couldn't figure out a reason for it but Jean had a nagging feeling.
Marco nodded his head once, gulping slightly. He wouldn't be going to the Military Police. He knew he wouldn't now.
That night when Marco had wordlessly convinced Jean to go sleep somewhere in a bed rather than a chair, he got up in the middle of the night and quietly made his way to the hallway. Each step was painful and he could feel the need to heal himself growing.
Maybe he would be able to soon, but he doubted it. The injuries were supposed to stay until he and Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt finished their job. He wouldn't get to change back to a comfortable form until the time was right.
Walking down the halls and avoiding getting spotted, Marco passed by a medical supply room and found a scalpel. Trying to think better of himself but failing, Marco took it with him and slowly made his way down to the basement. The number of guards increased as he moved down the stairs but he kept out of sight. It was just when he got down to the very basement level that he had trouble.
A guard was situated in a chair and had nodded off. Marco would have imagined there to be more guards in the actual room but he figured Eren wouldn't be able to go anywhere.
Forcing down any doubts or fears, Marco slowly crept inside and noticed the large cell with chains hanging from the ceiling. He noticed through the darkness that Eren was slumped slightly on the bed, probably in a light sleep.
Marco heaved in a deep breath and crept forward, forcing himself to move quietly despite the massive pain he was in. He could see the keys to the cell hanging on the wall above the guard. Hopefully the man wasn't a light sleeper. He'd have to be very careful if he wanted to not get caught.
Cautiously, Marco went to grab for the keys and made his way over to the doorway silently. The only acknowledgement he got from the guard was a heavy snore.
Proud of himself and still rather worried, Marco placed the key in the lock and opened it. On the bed he could hear Eren stir slightly but knew from training camp that Eren was a pretty violent and heavy sleeper. His nightmares about fighting titans caused him to roll around and fall off bunks without waking up.
Relying on that pattern, Marco silently proceeded inside the cell. He'd have to get Eren out somehow but he hadn't exactly had much of a clue as to how. Maybe he'd carry the inexperienced titan-shifter out…but he needed both arms for that. Scowling, he knew he wouldn't be able to fail this one.
Marco stepped towards the bed, regardless of the now added pressure on his shoulders. Every few moments he'd stop when he heard footsteps outside but they were coming from the hall upstairs. Steeling himself, Marco looked through the darkness at Eren. Eren was out cold and his hands were chained to the ceiling, preventing him from using them to shift into a titan form.
First, he tried as quietly as possible to remove the chains. This went without a hitch. However, there was still the issue of moving Eren.
Marco frowned and bent down, taking his one good arm and wrapping it around Eren's shoulders to help the shorter brunette up off the bed. Slowly and awkwardly, Marco managed to balance the younger teen on his shoulder. Eren was still grumbling about titans in his sleep when Marco stood up completely and began his way to the exit.
The alarm went out in the dead middle of the night and forced many of the visiting trainees from bed. Jean had no idea what was going on but he intended to find out as he rushed towards the direction of Marco's room. He couldn't allow his friend to be alone as people went yelling down the hallways about an emergency protocol.
Except, when Jean showed up at the doorway, Ymir was already there staring into an empty room. The bed where Marco had otherwise been lying on and would remain lying on for days or weeks to come was empty and devoid of anyone.
"Where is he?" Jean asked frantically. He needed to know where Marco was. Was Marco being missing the issue? Did they have a missing patient? Why weren't there more people crowded around the room looking for evidence? If there wasn't anyone around then Marco couldn't be the issue could he? Who had been paying attention to Marco?
Jean instantly regretted leaving his friend alone and paid Ymir nearly no mind as the freckled girl shook her head. She didn't know. No one knew where he was and likely no one knew he was missing.
Pushing past her, Jean ran down the hallways where people were running about in mismatched order. There was chaos. The entire survey corps legion was bustling as though something had happened. In the midst of it all, Jean could catch snippets of people talking about Eren. He had no idea what that meant and at that moment, all he cared about was his missing friend.
At one point pushed aside into a small alcove with a window by a group of soldiers running past, Jean looked outside to the courtyard and saw just between buildings that there were two figures out there. One was lopsided and leaning on the other and the other was greatly mangled.
"Marco." Jean gasped. The air in his throat was caught as if frozen and his chest hurt with an invisible weight. What was going on? What the hell was happening?
Without thinking of informing anyone, Jean quickly ran to the nearest stairwell and exit as quickly as possible. He dodged soldiers and doctors and commanding officers. There was no time for this. He needed to get to Marco to stop him whatever he was doing. Oh he knew something was wrong and bad but he had no idea what was actually going on.
Running until the balls of his feet bruised and his lungs seized, Jean finally turned down the same alley that Marco had been slowly meandering through. He could barely see through the darkness but he knew that one armed figure was his friend. It had to be.
"Marco!" Jean called out, voice raspy from the lack of breath.
Something stirred in the two figures ahead of them. While for the moment they were nothing more than silhouettes, the clouds seemed to pull back from the moon and light shone down to reveal that Eren was hung over Marco's shoulder. Marco's face was still obscured from view.
Jean could just barely see in the darkness the small amount of steam coming from Eren's head where Marco must have forcibly knocked him out. Eren was healing from something.
"Marco what are you doing?" Jean demanded, staring his friend down the alley way that they were trapped in. All of a sudden, as though the atmosphere had changed, a panic began to settle in the air that clearly emanated from Marco.
The freckled teen shook his head in the darkness and Jean stepped forward. "Come on, what are you doing with Eren?" Jean asked. His voice became softer but the confusion began to settle in even faster than before. This wasn't like Marco. This was nothing like Marco at all. What had happened to his friend to make him do something like this?
Marco stepped back but his grip on Eren faltered and as he backed up, the lighting fell over Marco's face to reveal the guilt and horror in his expression. Steam was not only coming from Eren's features but there was a small amount coming from Marco's as the face was slowly healing and an eye began to settle in the damaged right socket.
Jean flinched. "What…" He muttered, now more than confused. Only Eren could heal like that. What was happening?
Suddenly everything began to change as steam began to billow from Marco's wounds. He was healing much faster than Eren ever did. The steam trailed from the torso and as if in slow motion, Jean watched as gradually an arm began to regrow. Fleshy, hot, pink skin flexed and moved as muscles began to reform. Marco's face was almost nearly completely healed and all Jean could do was watch in pure and total shocked silence.
His entire body was tense and finally as the fingertips of his right arm formed, Marco pulled out the scalpel he had grabbed before and aimed it towards Eren's neck. The bandages around Marco's own neck had begun to fall and become undone as he healed. It was evident his vocal chords were in the process of returning to how they once were.
Jean felt himself stepping forward, reaching out to stop Marco. There was a look in his friend's eyes that said "stay back". Jean wanted to listen but he couldn't help but feel like his friend was changing more than just healing. This wasn't Marco Bodt anymore. This was something entirely else.
"Marco." Jean whispered just loud enough for Marco to hear. "Come on this isn't you." He added, pointing towards the scalpel. Marco would never cause harm to anyone.
His freckled friend backed away a step. Jean moved forward one in return. "Come on, Marco. The Marco I know wouldn't hurt a fly." He beckoned and yet no response. Marco seemed like an afraid cat. There was nothing that held him back from darting away but some need to remain just a little bit longer. Maybe it was curiosity.
"Marco." Jean tried once more but something in that moment seemed to snap Marco in two. Jean would never know exactly what it was that broke him.
Marco could feel the weight of the scalpel in his hand as he aimed it towards Eren's neck and he felt the guilt heavy in the forefront of his mind. He didn't want to hurt Eren. No, he never wanted to hurt little Eren Jaeger who'd already lost too much to titan shifters and suffered too much pain for any life time.
He began shaking. At first it was just small tremors but they grew and he was forced to set Eren down and the second he did so, Marco backed away. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to do this anymore. He liked the humans. He loved humans. Humans had no reason to die…
Turning his focus back towards his friend that was still slowly and gradually stepping towards him, Marco shook his head. His brain kept screaming no. This was wrong but what could he do? He needed to do this to survive or else Annie and Bertholdt and Reiner would come after him.
Then Ymir's words echoed through his mind.
He could run away. Marco could run off and fend for himself outside the walls so long as he avoided the others. He'd be careful. There'd be less titans, less danger. Who cared if he failed? Right? That's what the others were there for. This wasn't just his job but theirs too.
Shaking his head even more violently now, Marco focused on the scalpel still resting in his hand and knew he needed to get away. He needed to get away in a way that would prevent him from being stopped and somehow get him away safely. He needed to go quickly.
Shooting once more glance at a very confused Jean, Marco dug the scalpel into his hand and the flash of light that followed nearly blinded everyone in a close proximity to the location.
When the smoke had cleared enough for Jean to see, he was staring up at what had to be a titan at round fifteen or sixteen meters in height. It had somehow managed to form in a way that it was standing around the buildings and not doing damage. The expression on its face, which was missing skin around the eyes and had darkened spots like freckles, looked sad.
Jean couldn't see much of anything through the dissipating smoke and after nearly having been blinded by the light the transformation caused, but his eyes were trained on those of the titans. They were the same color as his friend's and the facial structure was almost entirely the same minus the minor changes in jaw formation. The skin was definitely freckled, dark in some spots and missing skin in others. The hair was exactly identical.
There were too many familiarities for Jean to say it wasn't Marco and the look in the titan's eyes as it met his gaze for just a moment was something of complete and utter guilt and a pain that Jean now began to realize had been in Marco's eyes since Jean found him bloodied and hunched against one of his neighbor's houses in Trost. That look meant "I'm sorry".
This was what Marco had been planning and yet Jean couldn't understand why. It was clear that Marco no longer felt hope as he carefully picked up his feet and began maneuvering around houses as quickly and carefully as possible. He had no desire to destroy homes of innocent people, which much was evident as he quickly disappeared in the direction of the wall until buildings and roofs blocked Jean's view of him.
Footsteps and the sound of three dimensional maneuver gear awoke Jean from whatever trance he fell into. Eren had begun to move slightly as he finally healed and awoke from whatever head injury Marco had given him to remain silent. "What…" Eren muttered and Jean slowly turned as voices shouted down the alley way.
Lance Corporal Levi was one of the first to arrive. "What happened?" He asked as several more soldiers landed on the buildings that lined both sides of the alley. Jean felt compelled to answer but he didn't know how.
There was some surprise in the soldiers' faces when they spotted Eren on the ground, not transformed, and for the most part unconscious. But there was still significant evidence of a titan having appeared and ran off, so who was the other titan shifter?
Levi was about to give the orders to have them follow the titan but Jean shook his head and interrupted him. "He's not coming back." Jean could feel the dryness of his throat and how closed it felt. His friend had just turned into a titan and disappeared. He knew there was some level of feeling that came with that.
Jean turned and looked behind him in the direction of where his old friend had gone. "He's not coming back." He repeated, feeling the reality of the statement crashing down on him. Things would never be the way they were meant to be.
Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin nor will I ever.
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