Jean lay there for hours. This was killing him. The fact that he couldn't hold Marco right now. He couldn't love him. He couldn't laugh with him or tease him, trace his freckles or tell him how much he meant to him. And he was his everything.
Marco was his everything. His love, his life, his will to live.
To hear those words… "He might not make it." They ran through his mind over and over. For hours. Those words were killing him. He had to wake up. It was all Jeans fault.
"All my fucking fault… Marco… I love you… I'm in love with you…" he muttered through tears repeatedly. He wanted this feeling to go away, the pain in his chest. He feeling of being separated from his lover.
A nurse entered the room moments later.
"Mr. Kirschtein… You may see him now. We're sorry for the wait."
Jean shot up, giving himself whiplash. He shot past her and followed the other nurse to the room. It felt like hours before they finally got to his room, however in reality it was moments.
Jean broke down once more. The sight killed him.
His freckled lover. His freckled lover was hurt. Damaged. Fragile. Dying. There was nothing he could do about it. Marco lay there, bruised and broken. He was wired up. Heart beating slowly and quietly. Unconscious. Black and blue eyes, a broken nose along with several other bones. He was covered in those wires. His freckles were barely visible due to the bruising. He wasn't shining anymore.
Jean sobbed. Hard. He sobbed into Marco's chest, staying like that for 15 minutes before he peered up at his damaged and fragile boyfriend.
"Marco… you have to wake up… you can't leave me… Please! Be strong… Wake up… I'll still be here when you do… Never leaving your side… You're my sunshine… My everything. I can't live without you! I want to keep waking up next to you. For the rest of our lives. This isn't the end Marco, we have so much to go through… I'm going to marry you.. We'll get however many kittens you want. Even if it's excessive… I'm so in love with you… Don't leave me here. It's all my fault…"