A house filled with anger and addiction can lead to unfortunate circumstances. Marcel was far more familiar with pain than anything in his life. He knew a pang far more agonizing than the one that settled in his stomach after far too many skipped meals.

He is only 2 years older than his brother. But he was old enough to just know to protect Porco with all he had. At five years old, Marcel learned to take a beating for his three-year-old brother. At six, he knew everything in the book to care for both Porco and himself. He had always been wiser than most kids his age. Natural intelligence.

One day, the abuse finally stopped. Marcel and Porco were taken away by strangers and were placed into a brand new environment. For the first time, there were two kind adults, two adults with who Porco grew to be comfortable and left Marcel alone for the first time in his life. Marcel wasn't by Porco's side and he didn't know what to do. The feeling would remain with him for the rest of his life.

There were other kids in the foster home, with similar pasts as Marcel. Emotions lingered in their eyes from their experiences. He saw the anger, the fear, and the hatred in each kid and it was haunting. There were nights when he could hear a temper tantrum in another room. Those nights he wanted to claw his eyes out. His brother slept from across him and he was half tempted to curl up in his bed but he refused to. It should be the other way around. Porco should come to him for comfort.

He was only six.

But he felt far from it.

Marcel learned that everyone was more settled with a smile. Their foster parents were already stressed as it was so when his social worker asked how he was holding up in his new home, he would lie. It was the first time he lied to an adult and he would continue doing so with anyone who talked to him. Don't let them know how you're feeling, that just caused trouble. Smile and lie. That's what everyone wanted to hear anyways.

He played with Porco frequently as he held spite for the other kids in their home. He didn't want to be like them so he stayed away. It was pointless anyway to even try to be friends. Kids were constantly in and out of the foster home whether it be because of behavioral issues or their parents coming back into the picture. He never even acknowledged them. Choosing to live in a world where it was only him and his brother.

Marcel didn't love anyone else other than his brother until he met Ymir. Something he still hadn't told anyone about.

It was only her second week in the house when Marcel approached her. Marcel and Porco had stayed the longest compared to any other kid in the house. Always praised by their foster parents and social workers on their good behavior. Marcel hardly ever talked to anyone other than his brother so when he walked up to his foster sister, it was a sight to behold.

Marcel recognized how different she was compared to the others when he first laid sight on her. She lacked the same raging emotions the other foster kids had. While there was definitely a feeling in her golden orbs, it wasn't anger, fear, or hatred.

Pride.

Marcel never knew what Ymir was proud of that day or those that followed. He admired her for it though. Her conversational and perceptive nature was similar to his own and maybe that's why they got along so well. Ymir isn't that person anymore. She eventually changed and Marcel would always resent her for that. His bitterness flowed through his veins alongside everything else he constantly felt. But the present isn't important right now, the past was the focus.

"Hey," Marcel walked up to the girl who was an inch or two taller than him. She looked uninterested in her environment and rather bored. He offered a smile to her because that's what he always did when he talked to others. People liked smiles. They believed anything you tell them when you smile so convincingly.

They're both only seven years old but they acted far from it. Ymir eyed him, her lips curving into a frown. "What do you want?"

The question lacked venom but it was enough to catch Marcel off guard. She wasn't like the rest. So instead of introducing himself or inviting her to play, he just continued smiling and said, "There's a secret hole in the fence outside, wanna check it out?"

Before she can even reply, Marcel took off, leaving the girl no other choice than to follow him. When they make it past the fence and into the wide grassy field behind their foster home, they don't say much to each other. And that's enough for both of them. They both hated people who weren't true to themselves and took advantage of those around them. Live a life you can be proud of. The two learned that early on in life and they stuck to it for most of their childhood.

They grew up together. Ymir taught Marcel to be mischievous and Marcel taught Ymir to be reasonable. When it wasn't just the two of them, they were with Porco as Ymir respected Marcel's attachment to his brother. While she never loved someone the way Marcel loved Porco, she understood far more than she should have.

As time went by, they made friends at school that eventually led to their clique. Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Pieck. They all became a part of Marcel's life and he appreciated them for it. For once, he didn't have to be disingenuous. He could dial down his smile and act like a kid. He belonged to something and he never knew this was what he was missing until then. They were rambunctious middle schoolers, getting into all sorts of trouble both inside and outside of school. Marcel always thought something out, Ymir polished his ideas, playing them out alongside Reiner and Porco while Bertholdt tried to be a voice of reason. Pieck would watch on with amusement while Annie brooded next to her. He loved their group dynamic and he did everything he could for them. While it wasn't stated aloud, he was their leader and he watched out for them. All he wanted was their companionship in return. Their loyalty.

But relationships like that never remained.

As they made their way into high school, everything seemed fine at first. They met Eren Yeager in Freshman year. He was known to speak his mind and get into constant fights with others when he didn't agree with them. He got along well with everyone as long as they didn't provoke him and he very quickly became part of their group. Marcel didn't mind Eren but he was observant of his friendship with Ymir. They grew close quickly and while Ymir was still Marcel's right-hand man, he felt the difference that settled between them.

When school started recruiting for the football team, Marcel, Reiner, Eren, and Bertholdt all gave it a shot. Bertholdt didn't make it on the team but he seemed more relieved about the fact rather than upset. Marcel knew Bertholdt had only tried because Reiner had pressured him into it. The three boys climbed the ranks of their peers quickly on the team, excelling freshman expectations. They became stars.

While most favored Eren out of the other two, Marcel's popularity still soared. He smiled at everyone and they loved him for it.

When Porco finally joined them in high school, Marcel was a junior. Porco had a huge shadow to live under. He went to tryouts and all eyes were on him. Marcel made sure to attend, to watch his little brother. Ymir had tagged along and the two of them hid behind the bleachers to avoid drawing attention. Marcel didn't want to steal Porco's spotlight. He wanted everyone to watch his brother when he succeeded. He had so much faith in his brother.

Porco didn't make it on the team.

And Marcel was disappointed.

Not at his brother but himself.

So, Marcel put on a smile. Walked into the coach's office and he did what he did best. He told the coach what he wanted to hear and in return, the coach gave him what Marcel wanted.

The next day, the coach told Porco the good news and Marcel expected to see the excited look on his brother's face. Instead, Porco's expression dropped.

"Why did you do that?!" Porco snarled after school, pulling Marcel away from their group and into a more secluded area.

Marcel knew what Porco was talking about and guilt started to churn in his stomach. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"I don't! I don't want any of this! Marcel, stop trying to help me out with everything, I don't fucking need it!" Porco turned away, storming off and all Marcel could do was watch him go.

That night, Marcel laid awake in his bed and he started thinking.

He would do everything for his brother.

His brother just couldn't find out.

"Ymir, where are you going?"

Ymir turned to look at Marcel. It was a weekend afternoon. A few months into Junior year. Porco had already dropped out of football and even though the tension eased between the two brothers, Porco made it clear that he didn't want Marcel's help. Porco still went to every football team to cheer on his brother and his friends but that as far as his interests went when it came to sports. "To Eren's."

"Can I come with you," His tone didn't suggest it was a question so Ymir just shrugged dumbly and nodded.

When they arrived, Marcel didn't realize how wealthy Eren's family was until now. It was easy for Marcel to slip away in the house the moment Ymir and Eren became occupied with each other. As he wandered, that's when Marcel met Zeke Yeager for the first time.

Zeke was in the garage, a small science lab set up in the far corner of it. Marcel approached him, observing him from behind.

Instead of Zeke turning to look at him, he spoke evenly. "Can I help you?"

"I am just watching," Even though he couldn't see it, Marcel still smiled. "You're brewing something. What is it?"

"It's better if I don't say," Zeke adjusted his glasses."I rather not take a risk with you."

"You wouldn't be taking one," Marcel reassured.

Zeke huffed and didn't say anymore. They fell into a routine when Marcel tagged along with Ymir. Marcel would watch Zeke work and there would be barely any words shared between them. Eventually, Zeke started sharing with Marcel, informing him of what he was working with and what he was trying to do. Marcel learned a lot from Zeke and he took note whenever he interacted with others. He was cold towards his father, caring towards his brother and apathetic towards strangers. By observing him, Marcel learned that Zeke, despite his father's expectations weighed on him, was distanced from the outside world despite his intelligence. Zeke took Marcel underneath his wing and that's when Marcel was swept into a brand new world of secrecy and anonymity.

That new world led to a casualty. In his senior year, Marcel fucked up.

"Marcel," Ymir said, her voice quiet and distant.

Zeke sent Marcel out on a mission. Marcel got his friends involved. Something didn't go right. And in one nauseating blur, Marcel ended up with blood on his hands and regret killing him on the inside.

It was just Ymir and Marcel. The night was pitch black and they just happened to be standing under the lukewarm glow of a streetlight. He washed his hands and yet a sticky sensation was still prickling at his skin.

He looked up at Ymir and did what he always did. He smiled.

"Things aren't going to be the same, are they?."

Ymir didn't meet his eyes but she replied. "I don't know."

"At least I didn't drag Porco into this," Because at this point, that was all that mattered to him.

This time he didn't receive an answer from Ymir and he knew that from that point on that nothing between them would be the same. So, Marcel smiled wider and bottled up every other emotion he could.

She turned to him one last time that night and she said, "Live a life you can be proud of, Marcel."

He nodded slowly. "You too, Ymir."

They all grew older. Their group was no more.

Ymir left Marcel behind. Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner moved away. Eren went to college to follow in his father's footsteps.

Pieck was the only one who stayed and she spent most of her time with Marcel and Porco. While Porco continued high school, Marcel did everything in his power to give Porco the best life. He continued serving under Zeke. He gave Porco the world and all he wanted in return was his love.

When Porco entered his senior year, that's when Zeke asked Marcel if he would like to travel with him. To start making money in different parts of the country and expand their market. Marcel agreed because he knew that deep down, he didn't have anything else to do. So, he put money into Porco's account and he left. At first, he made sure to keep in constant contact with Porco. They would call each other every day and even when neither of them had anything to say to each other, they still stayed on the line. Eventually, their daily phone calls became weekly, then monthly, and then Marcel didn't hear from him.

Marcel found himself growing far more isolated from the world after that. His withdrawal made him jaded.

He mastered his words, sharpened his smile, and evaluated everyone he ever talked to. Marcel learned to get the most in life was to use yourself as a weapon against others.

"I got married, Marcel," Porco told him from the other end. A whole world apart from his older brother. It had been a long time since they've talked and Marcel hadn't expected a call from anyone other than his clients. "I love her."

He wasn't even invited to the wedding. That shattered Marcel's heart. "That's good, Porco. I am glad to hear."

"I-...I'll repay you one of these days. I'll get the money and then-...and then we will be even."

Marcel didn't want money. That was the last thing he wanted from Porco. "There's no need for that."

"No, I owe you so much, Marcel," Porco said, his voice wavering. "I just want to give you something back."

I just want my brother.

Marcel sighed and chuckled because he knew he couldn't say that. His heart was broken but that didn't matter. "Just call more often, okay?"

"Okay."

Porco doesn't call for another few years.

A lot can change in a few years or everything can stay the same.

Somewhere in between there, Marcel reunited with Pieck. The two found solace in each other's company, their relationship purely platonic but after a while, Marcel grew distant. Pieck kept her distance, respecting his ingenious nature and the two of them never talked about it. It wasn't like Marcel wanted to talk about it anyway. At this point, he felt meaninglessness weigh down heavily on his shoulders and it wasn't long before he felt himself go on autopilot. His enthusiasm was convincing to everyone but himself. And that was enough.

When the two were requested by Willy Tybur, Marcel and Zeke returned home. Marcel spent the whole drive there numb, Pieck quietly tagging along. His life over the years had been one continuous blur and he wondered briefly if this was how he was going to die. He squeezed the steering wheel and all his repressed feelings started to boil in his stomach. Home. The word felt foreign and he wasn't sure if he exactly had one in the first place. Surely at one point in his life he experienced what it was like to have a home? Right. Those memories. Distant but there. Marcel just had to reach far enough to take a grasp and bring them back to the front of his mind.

Home.

Home used to be his brother and his friends.

Marcel's friends.

He knew where most of them were at this point. They were living their own separate lives. Completely different from the one they lived together as a group.

Ymir.

She was where he was driving.

For a moment, Marcel's heart fluttered and it was the most excitement he had in so long. She had been his best friend for most of his childhood.

He scrambled to pick up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He wasn't sure if her number was still available as it had been so long since he had even tried to call it. But he attempted it and someone answered.

"Ymir?" Marcel tried.

She breathed into the mic and Marcel could hear the disbelief laced in her tone. "Marcel."

Marcel wished he could say that his life finally picked up after that but it didn't.

He stopped by the corner store before he met Ymir. Going in to buy cigarettes and some snacks for Pieck. Naturally, he didn't walk into the store expecting anything extraordinary to happen. But as he browsed through one aisle, his eyes drifting over the variety of packaged sweets, a voice caught his attention.

He peered over the aisle to see a little girl giggling with her father. Marcel never cared for children, simply never having interest. But as his eyes caught sight of the girl and the familiarity that was etched into her features, Marcel immediately knew who the mother was. He didn't need someone to tell him that.

Ymir had a kid.

He dug his hands into his pockets and he took a deep breath, forcing a small smile. He nodded at the girl's father as he brushed past them and he made his way out of the corner store as quickly as he could. A lot could change in a few years or everything can stay the same.

Ymir changed.

It was etched into her body. Her posture, her tone, her eyes. He could see it all over her when he walked into the bar and saw Ymir bickering with the bartender. She didn't carry herself with the confidence she used to have. She looked almost like a corpse.

Marcel hated her for that.

The same spite that burned in his stomach all those years ago when he lived in a foster home came rushing back at full force.

So, what did he do when he approached her? He gave Ymir the softest of smiles. He talked to her about life. He acted as friendly as he usually did with everyone else. And then when she was drunk enough, Marcel struck.

"When were you going to tell me about your kid?"

Just watching Ymir stiffen as an immediate response was enough to feel the bitterness seep from his skin.

"Who...who told you?"

"You can't keep things like this away from me, Ymir." It was a lie. He didn't know even half of the things going on in both his and his old friend's life. But a liar like him with years of practice was a master at these sorts of things.

"She isn't important anymore…" Marcel could see the grief tearing Ymir apart. Destroying her inside and out.

"You have a little girl," He said, conveying enough innocence to push her over the edge.

Ymir asked for another drink. He watched her chug a beer to drown out her sorrows and it pissed him off more than anything else in the world.

"I can help you. Let me do this for you, Ymir."

Ymir crumbled.

"Fine, I'll let you! What is it that you want from me, Marcel?"

Marcel had always known Ymir as a stubborn and straightforward individual. She had charm and worked her way out of situations in clever ways. She now seemed far from that person he once knew. Pride stripped from her body and a self-destructive hatred ticking away in her chest, he realized love was a powerful weapon. Her love for her child was strong enough to take away the person she used to be. Maybe that's why Marcel found himself resentful. He saw a part of himself in Ymir and he couldn't handle it.

Even when she got better, there was still a small part of his who couldn't get over the difference in her personality. He could see it so clearly in everything she did. How easy it was to make her crumble. Ymir was weak. Marcel could take advantage of that. He looped her into the world Zeke had introduced him too so many years ago and for a moment, he was fine. He couldn't deny the fact he enjoyed her company when she started working under him. It was socialization he had been deprived of for so long. While he liked Pieck, she wasn't the same as Ymir despite there was still a change in the brunette's character. Besides, Pieck had already found someone here. That bartender. He won't even bother thinking about that.

Marcel felt okay.

As okay as someone could feel who had lived a rather isolated life when everyone he cared about had left him behind.

And then he got a phone call.

"Marcel."

One word. His name. Marcel could hear how thick the emotion was in his tone. He could almost hear his brother choking on his feelings. Marcel doesn't know what happened or why his brother was upset, and even though he hadn't heard from Porco in so long, he would do anything for him to make it better.

When he finally saw his brother in person, for the first time in eternity, it was enough to make his heart swell and break all at the same time. Porco. He looked so different. His shoulders were stiff, his puffy and his features etched into feelings that Marcel was all too familiar with. Anger and defeat.

Marcel approached his brother slowly. Porco flinched. And then Marcel hugged him and it was an overwhelming feeling when his little brother collapsed in his arms, shaking and sobbing.

"I am so sorry, Marcel," He cried into his shoulder.

Marcel isn't sure why he is apologizing but he forgives him either way. Pulling away, Marcel smiled, genuinely. "Just tell me what you want, Porco."

He sniffled and suddenly Marcel felt like they were children all over again. Just a six-year-old and a 4-year-old against the world. Two brothers and their whole lives ahead of them.

One life was shorter than the other.

Her demons returned, stronger than ever. And while Ymir was sad, it definitely wasn't a dominant emotion this time. Anger and frustration brewed in her like a storm, consuming her entire being and made her vision go red.

She tried to keep up a facade at first but the wall was quick to crumble and she felt herself grow distant from the world. She couldn't do anything. She could hardly move without feeling some sort of pain shooting up her body and causing her to wince.

Those humanoid figures, glowing a vivid white, surrounded her and laughed. Teased her, degraded her, hurt her in all the ways possible. When she returned home after her stay in the hospital, the demons opened the front door for her and she wasn't greeted by her usual home. Instead of the living room and the kitchen in sight, there was a staircase. And it only went in a downward spiral.

She's been taking those stairs for months now, never seeming to reach the bottom. Ymir grew angrier, more tired and it never stopped. She didn't think she could or would but when she resorted back to alcohol it relieved some of the pain. Ymir tried to keep it a secret at first but then she grew careless as the days weathered her down.

Historia.

Ymir was drowning in her own world and she managed to push away the only person there for her. As much as Ymir wanted to, she couldn't give in to Historia's support. She doesn't want Historia to help her, she wants to help Historia. Ymir wanted to know that she could support others. Take care of others. She could be there for anyone that needed her.

"P-please, stop...you're-,"

A foot rammed into her stomach and Ymir stumbled backward.

She blanked out for a second processing what happened. Her gold eyes met those ocean blues and she saw the hurt inside them. She fucked up. She fucked up. Ymir fucked up.

Rage rushed into her veins and Ymir threw her fist against the wall. Why? Why? Why?

In her fit of anger, she harmed the person she loved the most.

All because she couldn't get a grip on reality anymore. On the life she had.

Her lungs burned as she ran and Ymir eventually tripped, her injured leg giving out beneath her. She tumbled onto the road, the asphalt scraping against her skin. She laid on the ground, heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Pain flooded her body, her leg burning from all the weight she put on it. She slammed the side of her fist against the ground, the concrete tearing at her skin. A scream hung at the back of her throat, threatening to spill out but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The overwhelming sensation that filled her body to the brim made her feel like she was being squeezed together.

A breath of wind and strength jolted her out of her state, a force tackling her off the road and onto the side, covering her in dirt. A truck rushed by, honking angrily as it drove past the two individuals. Ymir looked after it for a second before she felt something hit her jaw.

Ymir cried out in surprise and tried to shrug off the person who was attacking her. They were resilient, weighing themselves on top of the brunette. Her head was thrown against the ground and Ymir blinked a couple of times to clear her vision and saw the familiar features of an individual looming over her.

"Marcel…?" She breathed out.

"You fucking idiot!" Marcel shouted, his hands clutched onto her arms. He shook her then threw another fist at her, hitting her right in the eye. "You fucking idiot! You fucking idiot!"

"What the fuck, Marcel?!" Ymir snarled back, trying to push him off. Her body was too sore and her muscles screamed at the effort, she was too weak. He hit her a few more times and she took it. What else could she do?

She coughed up blood, her lip busted, and her eyes starting to swell. His eyes were red but he wasn't crying. Anger bloomed onto his features and he threw another fist, this time behind Ymir. She had never seen him this way before. The violence he performed was uncharacteristic and it was a cold feeling of dread that filled her when she realized that this was probably her fault. It was always her fault, wasn't it?

"You're not even trying," Marcel said, his voice shaking as his grip loosened. "You're not fighting back."

She didn't reply, her breaths ragged as she tried to take in the moment. She could have been anywhere else and yet she ended up in this situation because of everything she's done. Maybe if she died tonight, things would be better off. She wouldn't have to suffer anymore and harm those around her. After all, it wasn't like she had a purpose anymore. She fucked up bad. Anytime soon, they'll eventually find out she killed Willy Tybur. They will find out she was in the drug business. She would face charges. That would fuck up any chance she had in getting her daughter back. But maybe that was the better option.

The weight lifted off her and she continued laying on the ground, not moving. A few minutes passed and for a moment, Marcel genuinely thought she was dead. But then she got up and scrubbed at her face. Blood smeared everywhere, on her shirt and skin. She turned slowly to Marcel, who sat crouched at the side of the road, his knees to his chest and his chin resting against his forearms.

Ymir sat silently with him, not saying a word. Cars drove past them but none of them stopped to check if they needed help. Ymir felt the tug of nostalgia as the cars passed by. A reminder of the selfish world she had grown into as a kid.

She never had the question, she never wondered what she did and it didn't even cross her mind that maybe she was more connected with others than she realized. Because when Marcel answered the unspoken question, the world grew smaller for 4 individuals.

"You're in love with Historia Reiss."

People only change because they have to. Marcel's not sure if he truly believed that statement. He thinks it's a choice. You either improve or you go farther towards the bottom till there's only you and the demons that fester inside. You're only going two ways on a spiral staircase. Up or down.

He's seen very little people go upwards and many go downwards. Marcel, himself, has traveled both ways. He climbed those stairs in high school alongside Ymir. Desperate to reach the clouds.

Now, years later, he's retraced his steps and stood a couple of steps from the bottom. His brother stood there, waiting. Marcel reached out his hand and Porco took a grip. Carefully he guided Porco and they walked upstairs together.

Marcel has always decided what direction he wanted to go on those stairs.

"Her name is Historia Reiss, my wife," Porco sat from across Marcel in Zeke's living room. He wiped at his face, his expression exhausted. It was the first time in a long while that he had looked sober.

Marcel won't mention the fact he didn't say Historia Galliard. He doesn't want to know the real reason, instead fantasizing the idea that he wanted Galliard to be theirs. Their name.

He already knew what Porco was implying, what he was going to ask him. It's been a few months since they reunited but not long enough. Zeke was very dismissive of Porco, barely talking to Marcel's brother and Porco hasn't even caught sight of Pieck. Marcel isn't sure if he wants to mention that she's here anyways. He was worried that it might open a can of worms that he wasn't ready to deal with.

Marcel tapped his fingers against his wrist. He was all too familiar with the name he mentioned. He saw Porco's intentions unfold right in front of him. "Reiss? Isn't that…"

Porco nodded and he grimaced. He knew that Marcel had already figured out. "I...it wasn't like that at first."

"You loved her?" Marcel's nails grazed his skin.

Porco's hands clasped together and Marcel could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. "I still love her. But...but I did some terrible things, Marcel."

Hearing Porco's voice tremble was sickening. Marcel sunk his nails in and he was tempted to drag them across his arm. He took a deep breath and smiled, relaxing. He only had his imagination to wonder what Porco exactly did and a part of him was too afraid to ask for the truth.

"I understand," Marcel nodded, getting up. They both already knew he was agreeing to something that hadn't even been asked.

When Marcel first laid eyes on Historia, it was where Porco's home had been. Marcel was familiar with the address as it was the one that was put in on documents when he had signed Porco up for rehab. EVICTED was stapled onto the front door. Marcel had stopped paying Porco's bills when his brother told him he no longer wanted to live there. That Porco wanted to leave this place.

Marcel watched Historia for a few weeks before he finally braced himself to follow the woman home. She worked at a local restaurant, walked everywhere she went and drank a lot of coffee. Historia's expression always seemed concentrated, well focused on her tasks at hand. Marcel couldn't help but wonder if Historia was trying to distract herself from something or someone.

He lit up a cigarette as he followed her home and then waited in the distance as she went inside her apartment. He smoked thoughtfully, embracing the burn in his lungs as a wisp left his lips. Historia was a beautiful woman and Marcel had to wonder how exactly Porco ended up with someone like her. Marcel loved his brother but he wasn't afraid to say that he wasn't the most attractive looking. Porco was not ugly but Historia Reiss could have married someone far better than his brother.

A sudden slam caught Marcel's attention and he turned to look at the front door of where Historia was staying.

His heart started to beat unevenly at the sight of what happened.

Historia's gaze trailed after an individual that Marcel was all too familiar with. Historia's facial features were etched into the expression of someone who was hurt by the one they loved.

An uneasy churning settled in Marcel's stomach and he felt his throat tighten. There was an overwhelming feeling that flooded his body to the point his hands shook.

He took a step forward, unsteadily. Then with a deep breath, he threw his cigarette down and trekked after the running figure.

Ymir.

Historia loved Ymir.

Porco loved Historia.

Marcel loved both Porco and Ymir despite the two being empty shells of who they once were.

He had to choose between a brother or a best friend.

He had never felt angrier in his life.

Ymir isn't stupid. Her pain has mellowed her out enough to realize the significance of what Marcel just told her.

"You're in love with Historia Reiss."

In shock, she whispered. "That means...that means she's-..."

Ymir's breath hitched. She could feel the cold wet dirt beneath her, staining her clothes alongside the blood that poured from her nose. She glanced at Marcel and she could tell that he was shaking.

"It just had to be you," He breathed out shakily, his eyes distant.

Ymir felt the whole world grow smaller around her and she wasn't sure how she should take it in. For so long she had thought about how much harm she would have done if she ever met the man that hurt Historia for so long. Just give him a taste of his own medicine. Her heart felt heavy when she felt the phantom of Historia's wrists in her palms. She did the same thing. Ymir had hurt Historia in a drunken fit of anger and Ymir couldn't forgive herself for that. But...

Ymir turned to Marcel. "Porco, he-"

"Don't, Ymir. Please, don't."

It sounded like a plea. His words settled in the night air and sunk into the ground between them. Her fingers dug into the Earth and she felt herself shudder the same way he did.

They sat there in a long silence, life moving around them in a slow rhythmic beat. She remembered a time when she was younger, when the two of them had snuck out behind the fence of their foster home and would lay in the grassy field, listening to the cars that passed by in the distance. There was a road not far from them and every rumble they felt through the ground, they would count out loud.

In the present, a car sped past them and Ymir just blinked wearily after it.

"What does this mean for both of us, Marcel?"

"I have to make a decision," Marcel responded, his voice low. "It's either Porco or you, Ymir."

The brunette shifted, wincing at the effort. She already expected his decision, there was no way Ymir could beat the love that Marcel had for his brother. She had seen Marcel sacrifice everything for Porco and she knew he would do it again. She wasn't sure what he would do and she didn't want to put up a fight if it came to it. She couldn't fight over Historia like some object because she wasn't, but Marcel's drive to give Porco the world wasn't going to have that same view. Marcel was heartless at times. Ymir knew that. Most of his smiles have ever reached his eyes and he seemed like a being on a different plane of existence at times.

"It's not your decision to make," Ymir hissed out, the heel of her hand scrubbing at her face. Her entire body ached but her heart hurt far more at the thought of losing Historia. Despite their tension these past few months, Ymir couldn't give her up. "It's not mine or Porco's either. It's her's."

Marcel flinched and his expression revealed everything Ymir needed to know. They both knew what Historia would choose and it was a terrifying thought in Ymir's mind. Historia still loved her despite being a fuck up. She cared for Ymir despite the brunette pushing her away.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Marcel slammed his fists into the dirt repeatedly. He grabbed Ymir by the shirt and the brunette half expected him to punch her again. His eyes were tired with frustration. "Ymir, I want you to get out of here."

"What?"

"I want you to get out of this town, out of this state, far away from here."

"M-Marcel, I can't do that-"

"I'll get you the best lawyer I can, once you get your little girl back, I want you to leave this place."

Ymir's eyebrows furrowed and she pressed her lips into a thin line. "Why would you do that?"

"I want you out of my fucking life, Ymir!" He faltered for a moment and took a deep breath. "My brother...if he finds out about this, something could happen."

If. Ymir stared at Marcel with disbelief. She pulled away from his grasp and stumbled onto her feet. Running a hand through her hair, she sniffed. "You have to be kidding me."

"I'm not joking," Marcel followed after her and grabbed Ymir's shoulder so she could face her. "Leave this place and live a life you can be proud of, Ymir."

Ymir paused. The echoes of familiarity rang loudly in her head. Suddenly they were teenagers again, standing under a lukewarm light, saying goodbye. That accident. The day Marcel got blood on his hands for the first time in his life. That's what changed all their lives forever, why their group had never been the same, the reason why they drifted. Ymir could hate Marcel for that, she could but she wouldn't. Maybe a part of her wants to blame that accident on why things were like they were now but she knew it was petty.

"Have you ever been proud of your life, Marcel?"

He didn't respond and they both knew the answer.

"I understand how it feels to sacrifice everything for someone you love," Ymir whispered thickly. "You have to be selfless." She lifted a finger to poke into Marcel's chest. "You're the most selfless person I've met. And you're brother? He takes. He takes so much from everyone in his life and you let it happen."

"I-...," I know. "Not this time, Ymir."

It's the first request of Porco's that Marcel denied but it wasn't for the benefit of either two of the brothers. Marcel, this time, was giving to Ymir. The brunette will never understand why he behaved like that. He told everyone what they wanted to hear and he gave them everything they wanted.

Ymir stared into his eyes and she didn't realize how hollow he was until now. She frowned briefly before she placed a hand on his head and ruffled his hair.

Marcel allowed it to happen and she noticed how he closed his eyes for a second to appreciate the touch. She pulled away and nodded. "Thank you."

He smiled, genuine, but it was etched with sadness.

Historia laid in bed, tired but unable to sleep. It was well past midnight and her heartbeat was beating irregularly. The silence of the house was haunting, the shadows of the past threatening to creep up on her. Her head laid on the pillow, her eyes burning from a few hours ago.

She startled when she heard the front door open and uneven steps stumble into the apartment. Her chest clenched in panic. The door opened to her room and while Historia wasn't facing the other way, she saw the figure's shadow casting against the wall. Ymir.

She closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. She didn't have the strength in her to face another confrontation.

"Historia?"

When the brunette was met with silence, she closed the door behind her and walked slowly towards the bed. Historia thought Ymir would shake her awake but she was surprised with the unexpected.

The bed squeaked as Ymir climbed into bed. Historia could feel her warmth and she didn't realize how much she missed it until now.

Remaining still, Ymir pressed herself against Historia's back and gently wrapped her arms around Historia's waist.

Historia's lips trembled into a smile and her eyelids twitched. She could smell the sweat and blood on Ymir. But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered at that moment. It had been so long since they had shared a bed together.