How did this happen?
He was just as energetic and care-free as usual a couple weeks ago; but there he was, laying weak on the bed, eyes shut. Every faint breath he took, it felt like a shard of glass entered his lungs. His every muscle and joint ached, he knew well he couldn't move his limbs far, even if he wanted to; hell, he couldn't even bring himself to open up his eyelids. He could also feel the sputum building up in his throat, yet he felt as if he was too fragile to let out a cough. All that, yet he couldn't help to not feel a bit better when he felt the warm touch of a hand holding on to his lower arm.
It had been about a month and a half since he had initially been diagnosed with pneumonia. The severity of his symptoms should've decreased some amount over the week, though all that had happened was all but that. The pain in his chest never left, his body still felt burning, it felt as if his symptoms somehow got worse.
Thoughts ran through his head, it made his headaches hurt even more. At that point, he should've stopped overthinking things and taken a much needed rest, yet he refused to fall asleep—he refused to pass away—at least until he sorts out everything in his life.
And it all boiled down to the woman slumped on the side of his bed, fast asleep.
Pieck… How long have you been waiting there?
The true roots of said ordeal began when the two got a wedding invitation from Annie and her fiance whom she met at her time in Paradis. Initially, Porco wanted to stay at his home in Marley, but Pieck dragged him along on her journey abroad. And so, they attended her wedding along with Reiner and the others. It had all gone according to plan (or so they thought); they got there in time for the reception, they met Annie's new husband, Armin Arlert, who Bertholdt seemed to dread meeting, Pieck even got to reunite with her old colleague, Jean Kirschtein. It seemed as if nothing could go wrong, but alas, all hell broke loose when the guests started leaving.
It had started off as an unsuspecting cough from Porco, though—a fit later—Marcel began worrying for his brother's health, to which he brushed off. Then Pieck remarked the fact his unusually pale hand was extremely warm when she held it as his head started to hurt. And a minute later, he found himself on the floor, with both of his hands holding on tight to his throat as he coughed up rusty liquid. He was rushed to the nearest hospital the second one of Armin's superiors—who just happened to have a PhD in Medical Science—noted that the man was greatly shivering.
Marcel and the others had come by to see him during visiting hours, even Jean paid a visit once. Though the only individual who had always been by his side was none other than Pieck Finger herself. The woman sleeping next to him had been waiting for him to open up his eyes every week.
Porco let out an exhausted sigh, I don't have much time left.
His eyelids twitched as he tried to come to his vision. From what he could make out, it seemed like it was late afternoon, which meant that it would be about an hour before the nurse would kindly kick Pieck out of his room. And there she was, curled up on the green chair propped up to the side of his bed.
Ah, there's so much we haven't done.
I hope you'll find someone else…
What was his name again? Kirschtein? Yeah, he looks like he could take care of you.
His right hand reached out towards Pieck's onyx hair as she purred in her sleep.
"Pokko, please…"
He immediately halted when he heard her murmurs, eyes widening.
"...Wake up…"
A thin, somber smile grew on his face as he lightly patted her head.
I'm sorry, Pieck.