So yeah all I have to say is that this chapter contains a bit cheesy conversations XDD

BUT I NEED THEM TO HAVE MUCH FLUFF AND CHEESY STUFF. BEAR WITH ME.

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan.

SEVENTY-EIGHT

Several weeks have passed and I'm still in Trost's Hospital.

Oh, and it doesn't stop there. I have to stay for two months so that my fucked up rib can heal. Still, better here than somewhere else.

I'm glad to say that at least my contusions have healed and that I could finally walk better. The bad dreams stopped so now I could sleep in peace, so to speak. I definitely feel better, I could finally move a finger without cursing aloud (I'm exaggerating, like always.)

Marco, on the other hand, didn't look so good. He still had nightmares and haven't been able to sleep the required hours. I've been keeping an eye on him like Celine told me (I always do anyways), and I noted how blue he was, how slow he was speaking and how tense and edgy he was with everyone else except me. He tried, though, he really tried to manage his moods and I swear, if it wasn't for the support me and his mother were giving him, he'd- I can't even think about it. I don't want to either. I'll keep supporting him, I'll keep giving him lots of kisses and hugs, lame and naughty jokes, compliments about his freckles, his persona, that he was the best person in the word and that I, his boyfriend, believe in him, that he was sweet, cute, smart and...

-"Um... Jean? Are you even listening?"- There's his cute, mellow voice.

I snapped from my train of thoughts and smiled stupidly, -"Uh... that you're the hottest guy in this hospital?"- And he knew, he knew I was doing my best at keeping him in a good mood.

Marco smiled weakly and his eyes sagged with noticeable bags under them. I could still see a light blush on his cheek, -"You've said that already."- And he loved it, oh he loves it when I shower him with compliments.

-"Yeah, well, I'll keep saying it until you literally get pissed."- I munched on my chocolate donut and swallowed. We were at the hospital's cafeteria by beseech -by mines, mostly. I wanted to get out of that damned room. I've been in there for these past weeks, come on!

Marco just chuckled, narrowing me lovingly.

I noted his plate was still full, his donut and hot chocolate... not so hot, -"You gonna eat that?"- I pointed at his vanilla glazed with sprinkles donut.

He shook his head slowly, -"I'm not really hungry..."

-"Marco,"- I took his hand in mines and looked straight at his eyes, -"You have to eat something. You know, you actually haven't eaten enough and I see you slimmer."

His lips contorted as he gazed away, prodding the donut with his finger.

-"Marco, please, just one bite,"- I insisted, squeezing his hands, -"For me -for both of us?"

I tried the puppy eyes and he chuckled, sighed deeply and took the donut. I bet he remembered that time I was kinda depressed in school and didn't wanted to eat anything and he was all over me begging me to eat, -"Thanks, Jean... for everything."

I smiled and kissed his hand.

Minute by minute, he took bites off his donut and sips from his hot chocolate. Sadly, he didn't finish it all, but at least, he ate a bit.

Back in my room after being picked up by Zackly, I met with my father. I admit, I was surprised. Dad works 24/7 so I didn't really thought about him showing up here anytime soon, but... here is, with an overcoat and gloves, warming up his hands, -"Dad?"- I mused, approaching him.

He turned around and his eyes widened, -"Son!"

Unexpectedly, he rushed to me and embraced me. I looked around awkwardly before answering the hug, -"Uh... hey, Dad."- Why is this encounter so awkward? Is it because we haven't seen each other for a while now? The last thing I heard of him was that he was gonna see a psychologist. My dad didn't bode well after Mom's passing and it was because he spent so little time with her and because she forgot him. I swear those were the most depressing days of my life; watching him completely stunned at her apprehension of him, her eyes narrowing him like a total stranger...

Dad's sudden sobbing made me break out of my thoughts, -"I'm so glad to see you..."- He murmured on my shoulder.

-"Hey, easy, I'm okay."

-"I heard what happened,"- He parted and rubbed his nose's bridge, -"You're still getting in trouble, aren't you? I thought I told you before to stay out of fights."

-"Dad, I-"

-"You could've both die!"- He suddenly snapped and waved his arms up, -"You're not going to that school anymore, you hear?"

Oh man, if kids these days heard that from their parents..., -"Don't fret, I wasn't planning on going either."

He gaped his mouth wide to reply but shut it close at my words.

I sighed and sat on my bed, -"I'm so fucking tired of that place,"- I tussled my hair and looked down to the floor, trailing my eyes through the dark lines of the white tiles, -"I fucking try, I really try to help guys like me have a place there without getting shitted on, but it's so-"- I swallowed my words. I just realized I haven't told Dad about my sexuality.

And so help me, he inquired, -"Guys like you? What do you mean?"

I looked up at him as he sat beside me. With a hand on my rear neck, I sighed and just wished me luck (how pitiful is that?), -"I... I meant... g-gays... like me."- There, it's out. Now to wait for his reaction. Dad was more or less Christian. He read the Bible a few times and goes to church whenever he could, but he wasn't on Marco's family's level.

He was speechless with his eyes wide.

-"I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner!"

His face lit up, -"Y-you mean y-you like men?"

I shook my head vigorously, -"N-no -I mean, yeah! But... just one, Dad, just one guy."

-"Hmm, Marco, right?"- He asked, a hand on his chin.

Now I was stunned, -"How...?"

-"Well, it's kind of obvious now that I think about it,"- Oh, he was really thinking about it, -"All those days in school -oh! That day in the supermarket that you were kind of nervous. Was it Marco? I thought I saw him."

I face-palmed and chuckled, -"Yeah, it was him. He's the guy."

He smiled and hooked an arm around my shoulder, -"I'm proud of you."

I lowered my hand from my neck, -"Huh? What did I do?"

-"Mustering courage to tell me and... staying in that school to help your peers,"- He admitted and added with a long sigh, -"I... understand if you decide to return, but please... be careful."

I sighed too, -"I seriously doubt we'll return and I was just trying to help Marco find his place there without getting chided,"- I confessed and his look was the same, -"And since we have to stay in here for a few months..."

He chuckled, possibly understanding me, which surprised me. I thought he'd say I was selfish and inconsiderate because I know that's how it looks, but I do care about those guys, I just... care more for Marco and since we're both staying in here for a while, I...

What am I saying? I don't want to go because I'm scared, -"So I don't actually have to go anymore..."

He jolted me, -"Do you want to go?"

I shook my head slowly after a few seconds of nothing.

-"It's alright, son, to be scared and apprehensive. You're just protecting yourselves and it's the right decision."- He patted my shoulder, reassuring me -or trying to- that I was doing the right thing.

-"I dunno, Dad..."

-"Son, whatever you choose to do, you know I'll support you... always."- He squeezed my shoulder firmly.

-"Thanks."

After that warm family reunion, Dad left after getting a call from his psychologist, reminding him that he had an appointment -oh and after being the dead end of Zackly's glares. If Dad noticed, he ignored the old man.

-"Hey, what's your problem with my dad?"- I asked gruffly, right after Dad left.

-"Nothing at all."- He said and yet I can perfectly see a frown there.

-"Sure."- The old man was still bitten with him because of the whole Family Department mess.

-"Ironic that when I see him, a laborious man who claims to love his son, I see an irresponsible father,"- And there it is, that spiteful rebuke he has kept in these last few minutes. He approached me with those scary, white gloves that serial murders often use and began to press gently on the areas I previously had contusions. They still had a purple, light shade to it, -"Does it hurt?"

I shook my head, -"You know he was working his ass off to keep us fed up."

-"And yet he could not take two mere minutes of his "job" to call or message you, hm?"- He kept pressing my joints and finally, my chest, where my broken rib laid within.

I didn't like his tone of voice, I didn't like the way he spoke about Dad, -"The hell do you know about being a father anyways? If you don't understand what it takes, keep your mouth shut."

His face wrinkled, -"I do, in fact,"- He tugged out something from his pocket. He handed me a picture of... him, his wife and a little girl in his arms, -"I have a daughter."

Well, fuck me and my mouth. Still, I was pissed, -"So, what, are you mister-doctor-father-professor perfect? I dunno about you, but my dad is human and humans make mistakes,"- Jesus Christ, I sound so Marco right now, -"Dad kind of lost it when mom forgot about him and he couldn't face either of us because he thought he failed us and because he was a stranger to mom. Then she died and he... disappeared; the one person he has loved since he was young was dead. Can't you understand him? Wouldn't you feel despondency and melancholy? Wouldn't you just... disappear for a while? I know I would..."- My fucking mind then drifted into my future life if Marco died in the incident. Yeah, I definitely would disappear from the face of the Earth -and not for a while.

The old man was speechless, lost in thought; he was actually considering it.

-"Look, if you just wanna glare at him the whole day, don't do it when I'm around."- I said, flatly, and dismounted the bed, guessing he was over since he was still staring at nothing.

Then he spoke, brashly, -"Where are you going?"

-"To the bathroom, be right back,"- I muttered under my breath, -"Jesus fucking Christ."

After I vacated my bladder, I washed my hands and headed out. I quickly met with Celine speaking to Zackly, -"Please, he needs him. There's no other authentic treatment than support and company from his peers."

-"Why Kirshtein? I am certain your boy has other friends."- Zackly suggested, packing his stuff for his next patient.

Oh, old man, you don't know how wrong you are. Aside from boyfriend, I was Marco's only best friend. The rest are only school partners and "friends for friendliness" that only care about you when they want something from you, -"You don't understand,"- She shook her head, -"Jean is the only one who can heal him; he is his medicine."- Okay, Celine, that was corny and I've thought and said some corny stuff too.

-"That is utterly inaccurate and fictional. The antidepressants have shown remarkable results within teens. It will do."- He swung his bag over his shoulder and made way towards the door.

But that's when I stepped in front of him, not letting him pass, -"Hold on just a fucking minute,"- I said, closing the door behind me in case Rubert was sniffing around, -"Why would Marco need antidepressants?"- Ops, too late. Stupid moron.

Zack sighed, already tired of me, -"Why, I wonder. Do think about it profoundly."- He gestured me to move aside.

Marco's depressed..., -"And what did Celine want? Whatever it is, I want it too."

Zackly face-palmed and shook his head too, unable to believe all this, -"God."

-"Jean, I want to request moving you to Marco's room-"

-"Say no more,"- I said, very stupidly, -"With who do I have to talk to?"

-"Alright, alright,"- Zackly finally snapped and sighed deeply, -"I will send the damn request. In the meantime, stay here."

-"Why can't I stay with him right now?"

-"Because it will take time."

-"That doesn't make sense, I can go there right now and just sleep with him, no prob."

There's his face of disgust when I said that last part, -"Just do whatever you want."- With that, he shoved me aside, swung open the door and walked out quickly. He finally gave up on me, huh. Fuck yeah!

I was doing a little celebration and Celine chuckled, -"Come, Jean. Marco will be overjoyed when he hears the news."

I was literally jumping my way to the elevator, completely happy with how things turned out. If there's something I wanted this whole time here, was to stay with Marco. That's all. Even after I healed and wasn't so critical, Zackly denied my wishes.

In the elevator, Celine told me to sleep with Marco until I get my bed, but really, it was unnecessary. Marco and I had slept in a single bed before, -"So, uh... how's he doing? Does he really need those...?"

Celine sighed, -"Yes, I... diagnosed him with depression, Jean. He has shown symptoms within the last two weeks. He really needs you."

So it's true...

I never thought I'd see Marco depressed. Then again, I did, I just didn't know it was depression. My boyfriend has always been so cheerful and gracious so I never really imagined him down to this.

When we reached his room, I saw him laying down on his bed while glumly staring at the ceiling, sighing frequently. He still had the bags under his eyes and he looked rendered, tired and defeated, like he gave up on life. It hurts seeing him like this and I didn't like it.

Then I remembered I was also in that kind of state a few times due to my difficult moments at school. It's inevitable, right? We're not perfect and we're not immune to sadness and sorrow. We sometimes fall on our knees because sooner or later, our strength and mental fortitude deplete and it's hard to break out of said state alone, but with peers beside you, supporting you, it's possible and I intend to break Marco out of his.

-"Marco,"- Celine called him, settling her bag of pills on the table, -"Jean's staying with you from now on."

He sat up quickly and smiled weakly but tenderly, his face lighting up bit by bit, -"Jean..."- He had this look in his eye that told me 'I need you'.

-"Yup and I'm thinking of watching a few flicks. You in?"- I asked, mounting his bed and settling cozily beside him.

He didn't answer. He just stared at me.

-"I'll take that as a yes."

And as we watched animated flicks again, Marco just burrowed close to me, his arms around my torso and his head on my chest, hearing my heart's beats. He didn't pay attention to the movie and maybe it was because he saw them already a ton of times, but I know him and I know that wasn't the case (Marco can watch his favorites flicks a bunch of times and it won't get boring to him). I think he was scared again, scared I'd disappear and never come back. His tight grip on my robe seemed like it; like he had to hold on to me so that I wouldn't vanish or something.

-"Hey, Marco,"- I began, stroking his hair like he loves so much, -"I'm here for you, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

He rose his head slowly to look at me and was a bit surprised at how quick I read him. I'm an easy-readable guy and I'm not so good at reading others. I guess that doesn't count my boyfriend. Still, he knew how well I knew him.

-"I love you, yeah? And I'll never abandon you."- I embraced him too and buried my nose in his neck.

-"Th-then come with me to the bathroom... please."- His cheeks lit up as he fidgeted with his fingers.

I chuckled and smiled, -"You're adorable, you know that?"- I sat up and dismounted the bed. I extended my hand towards him, -"Shall we?"- What a dork.

But at least, it made him chuckle. When he took my hand, I pulled him down gently from the bed, kind of like princes do to princesses when they dismount their carriage or some shit, but this is way different; we weren't in a ball, for starters, and we only had the plain, boring robes all patients wore and lastly... we're both fucked up.

Once in the bathroom, while Marco did his thing, I washed my teeth because I just remembered I forgot to this morning -yeah, with Marco's toothbrush. I was a bit surprised when he didn't say anything and when I gazed at him, I saw him bent and covering his face with his hands, sobbing and trying to muffle his weeps.

I quickly rushed to him, accidentally dropping his toothbrush, and kneeled before him. With my hand on his shoulders, I squeezed tightly, -"What's wrong, Marco?"

He parted his hands from his face and I saw it completely red, his eyes watery, -"I-it hurts... why does it hurt?"

My hands started to shake at his painful tone, -"What hurts?"- Don't panic, Jean, not yet.

He bit his lower lip and his body suddenly went stiff as he groaned and his face reddened even more.

Oh.

He can't shit. He's constipated.

He released his breath and it converted into another cry.

-"Okay, Marco, just calm down, I'll-"

He wailed again, -"My stomach hurts so much..."- He gripped it tightly and bit his lips again. Again, his body went rigid as he groaned and yet nothing came out but a long wail.

Shit, it's bad, real bad.

I coerced myself into action and started stroking his belly in a circular motion, -"Breathe deeply, Marco, it always helps."

And he did, very slowly and steady.

I then rubbed his back in the same motion, -"Better?"- I asked, noting he relaxed on the toilet's back.

He nodded slowly, his eyes closed and hands on his belly. He sighed often and out of the blue, he started crying again, tears streaming down his eyes, -"I'm such a baby, aren't I?"- He complained, avoiding my eyes.

I stood before him, hands on hips.

-"And a nuisance too. I keep bothering you and I know you don't think of me like that, but I just can't help feel like that...,"- More tears. He covered his face with his hands in shame, -"I'm so weak and defenseless and you always take the blows for me, you stand up for me and defend me. You end up all beaten up because of me, because I'm weak-"

I couldn't hear him anymore and to shut him up, I leaned in close to him and sowed a warm kiss on his lips. He gasped and widened his eyes at my sudden deed. I parted slowly and caressed his lips with my thumb, -"Don't say that, Marco. It's not true."

-"Jean..."

I must have this spark in my eyes as I spoke because Marco couldn't avert his eyes from them, -"You're not weak, a nuisance or a baby and you're definitely not weak. I know I said that twice and I'll keep saying it. You're not weak."

His eyes glistened at me.

-"And fuck, Marco, I'll take all the beatings for you, I'll stand up for you and I'll defend you until the end of the days because I love you and I know you'll take all the damage for me too -for anyone- because you're brave and compassionate. You've stood up for me and defended me too."- Ah shit, I felt this lump in my throat again, hindering my emotional speech and making my chin and jaw sore.

A single tear dripped from his eye and pooled on my fingertips. He knew I was right. We were both remembering the days in school when he searched for me and rescued me from George's beating, the day he put himself at risk and rescued Diego...

-"You're an amazing person, Marco, so don't say those things about yourself because they're not true,"- Our foreheads collided and I closed my eyes, -"And don't punish yourself..."

-"Jean...,"- He mused my name again and closed the space between us with a passionate kiss, completely moved by my words. He held my head with passion as our lips moved in sync. He parted slowly and whispered, -"I love you too, dorky."

I chuckled, feeling my cheeks warm. Yeah, that was corny and dorky, but true.

Marco breathed deeply, -"I... I need to-"- He let out a tiny, barely hearable fart.

I gasped and couldn't hold a laugh, -"You gonna shit?"

Marco blushed a lot and nodded, -"Y-yeah."

-"Want me to stay?"

He shook his head, -"I-I can do it alone."

I stood up and smiled, proud of him as I saw a spark of confidence back in there, -"Okay, just holler me if, you know, need help,"- I snorted and made way towards the door, -"And hey, I believe in you, yeah?"

Marco chuckled and rolled his eyes, -"I'm just using the bathroom, Jean."

-"It still applies, you know."- I laughed too and headed out to wait for him.

When he didn't come out in five minutes, I got a bit panicked and lent my ear against the door to hear what he was doing. I heard the sink turned off just before he opened the door and making me tumble on the floor like a moron. Marco laughed and helped me up.

-"Did you do it?"- I asked, noting his expression relaxed and less red.

-"Mjum."

I laughed and scratched my neck, -"I'm glad. You scared me back there."- I wasn't lying. This may seem stupid, but I'm glad he shitted. I was worried and scared because not shitting is just bad, alright? I mean, I know it's different for other people, but I go to the bathroom thrice a day and I hope it stays like that because if I only shit once or twice, I literally panic.

-"I'm sorry,"- He quickly apologized, like always, -"I-I hadn't gone these past weeks and it worried me."

I cringed, -"Well, at least, you shitted today. I bet your mom knows a few remedies."

He gazed away.

-"Wait, you haven't told her?"- I asked, trying to look at his eyes. This is really weird; Marco tells his mom everything.

He just shook his head.

-"Marco."

-"I know, I know!"- He pouted and sighed, -"I'll tell her soon..."

-"No, we're telling her now."- And so we did when she came back. I was a bit surprised when she told us she knew. Marco wasn't so shocked and that scored a point to my theory that he knew of his condition. It scored, even more, points when she told me that depression causes constipation without a clear physical issue. She gave me a few pills (including a suppository, hooray) that may treat his digestive problem but advised me not to panic if it doesn't work.

-"Jean, I'm sorry to leave this in your hands like this, but you're the only one he confides."- As she spoke, she seemed calm and collected, like a psychologist must be, but I saw sadness there because Marco's not just any patient, he's her son.

-"What do you mean?"

-"He doesn't talk to me like he used to or express himself. It's a common act of seclusion among the people with depression,"- She sighed and placed her hand on my shoulder, -"I'm relieved he hasn't secluded himself from you. I knew he wouldn't do it. You're immensely special to him, Jean, and you're the only one who can truly aid him and give him the medicine he really needs: love, affection, happiness and companionship. I can only provide the antidepressants and other pills."

That sounded sad and this situation must be horrible for her; watching her son suffer depression and not be able to do anything but prescribe pills. The part that depressed people tend to seclude themselves from others, I can understand because when I was depressed, I used to avoid people too, but a family member? In my case, I didn't get along with Mom, and Dad barely spent time with me so I didn't really confided in him, but Celine? Marco's mother is the best mother I've known, aside from mines, and not to forget how he tells her everything because they trust each other.

-"Jean,"- She called, breaking me out of my sad thoughts, -"I'll be alright and I know I'm leaving my son in the best hands."- She smiled, more genuinely, and parted her hands from my shoulder.

I swear..., I swear to God, I'll take care of Marco and I'll make his depression go the fuck away. Marco aided me with my depression before and I will help him with his.

Marco and I decided to walk afterward, seeing as it was getting boring watching movies all day in the room. I wondered about whether to ask him about his mother and his isolation from her but decided to drop it. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea; maybe when he gets better, he'll talk to her again.

We walked and relaxed on the balcony at the end of our floor when, -"Just say it, Jean."

-"Huh?"- I turned to him abruptly, -"What're you talking about?"- Don't even think about fooling him, Jean. He's clever and he knows you.

He reclined his body against the fence and looked at the tall mountains afar, -"What you were gonna ask me. Say it."

I reclined my back on the fence and looked up at the sky, -"I...,"- I was about to lie, honestly, but considering I was cornered and he'd insist if I lie, I had no other option than to say it, -"Are you... okay with your mom?"

He gazed at me, his eyes a bit widened, -"Wh-what do you mean? Of course I am!"- I knew Marco and I knew that the least he wanted was to be on bad terms with his mother (and saying it like that seemed exaggerated). I know how much he loved her; she practically raised him herself considering his father was 24/7 on police duty (kind of like mines) and plus, Marco wasn't on good terms with him. They often argued about that latter issue.

-"I just talked to her and... she seems sad. She tries to conceal it but..."

Marco faced me completely, his eyes wider now and watery. Damn, he's extremely sentimental.

-"It's not bad, she's just really worried about you because she thinks you're reclusive of her."- Woah, hold on, did I just twisted the words? She's not worried about that, but she's definitely sad about it. I'm avoiding the depression part, aren't I? That's what she's worried about.

-"N-no..., it's not my intention, I..."- His voice shook.

-"It's okay, Marco, you're just... uh, you know..."- Just say it already. Don't you think he knows?

He gave me a knowing look before looking away to the distance again, -"I know what I have, Jean."

I bit my lips.

-"It's... difficult to control, I can't get a hold of it. It's like playing a game without a tutorial or like entering a new place and being completely lost with no idea where to step on,"- He started to ramble again, but I listened to his every word, -"And I've been depressed before, according to mom, but I just didn't know about it, I wasn't aware of it, but now that I do... it's...,"- The water in his eyes crammed and sloshed out, -"It wasn't my intention to make her feel sad... I'm not conscious of the things I say or do..."- He wailed.

-"Marco...,"- I bit my lips harder. Shit, this wasn't a good idea at all, -"Tell me how you feel... I can help -I will help you."- Like I said, I had depression before and like Marco, I wasn't entirely aware of it so I'm not certain what buttons to push here, but I know him so that has to count, right? I'll follow my instinct.

He smiled and put a lot of effort on it, -"I know you will...,"- More tears dripped from his eyes and he quickly wiped them off, -"It's so stupid, isn't it? Crying for every trifle thing or over nothing-"

I placed my finger on his lips and shushed him. I shook my head before parting it, -"No, it's not, Marco, it's okay to cry. You can cry all you want, you know I won't mind."

The small smile that bloomed in his lips now was more genuine before he lunged at me and buried his face in my chest. He cried and sobbed more, drenching my robe, but I didn't mind as I stroked his hair, -"I'm sorry..."- He babbled.

-"You don't have anything to apologize for."

-"But I'm drenching your clothes..."

-"It's fine,"- I chuckled at my next thought and said it aloud, -"I actually need it."- I admit, I hadn't gotten a bath since last week.

He chuckled too and rose his head, wiping tears from his reddish eyes again, -"You're a piggy."

-"But I'm your piggy."- Oh my God, what a dork. How many times have I used that quip? I don't tire of it, though, and if it made Marco smile, I'll keep saying.

And it did make him smile and laugh before I hugged him firmly. Gotta show him much affection.

He hugged me back and when we parted, Marco expressed himself. He said depression for him felt like a blank canvas in which he, little by little, drew on it nothing but gray colors, something he never does. He paints with fluorescent colors, never in grayscale (excluding his Batman draw because hey, Batman's outfit is black). He also said it felt like an empty game, a hopeless superhero series and lastly... like a nightmare. I knew why: Marco's a happy guy in spite of what he went through his childhood; he's positive, optimistic and cheerful. To have none of that, to feel exactly the opposite, was a nightmare for him. He didn't feel he was... him. He felt like the depression, or his depressing self, was someone else trying to consume him, to take the things he loves the most.

He cried a lot while he spoke and so did I because that was a sad analogy. I composed myself eventually and did my best to cheer him up, to reassure him that I was here and that I'll take care of him, that I'll fuck his depression away, to lull him away from those thoughts because if not... then Marco's nightmare will be eternal.

We kissed, tears cascading from both our eyes, and as we did, we held each other close and never let go.

Until his stomach grumbled.

I snorted and parted from him, cleaning his wet cheeks with my thumb, -"Hungry, are we?"

Marco blushed and nodded.

-"The let's get something to eat. My treat."- I took his cold hand firmly and intertwined my fingers with his.

He smiled tenderly and rested his head on my shoulder while we walked to the cafeteria.

I smiled too at the warming sensation in my chest and gulped down a lump in my throat. He's hungry, he's getting his appetite back... he's getting better.

In the cafeteria, we ordered donuts and hot chocolate again, but this time, Marco literally begged me to buy him a vanilla cheesecake. I smiled broadly again. He was getting his relish for sweets back too.

While we ate, he got kind of gloomy again but I saw how he really tried to push it off and so I aided him by spraying donut custard on his cheeks, -"Hey!"- He exclaimed before retaliating.

I laughed and kept smearing his face until we got scolded. We apologized and after Marco finished his sweets, we headed to our room and "cleaned" ourselves. You know how it goes.

I was licking his earlobes when he whispered something in my ear.

-"Huh?"- I couldn't really hear him. He was moaning particularly loud today.

-"That I love you, silly,"- He parted from me, breathless, -"Hey, you kind of stink..."

I smirked and winked at him, -"Yeah, you're right. I do, don't I?"- No, really, I did.

He pulled me towards the shower by my arm and we washed and... did a few other things. You know what I mean. We touched and groped each other, we licked each other, jerked each other, kissed our souls out, gripped our butts, jerked some more, the usual.

After that glorious bath I so needed, we watched a few movies again before falling asleep.

But during midnight, Marco was shaking a lot and I got a hunch it wasn't just the cold air of the room; he was having another bad dream, -"J-Jean... I'm scared..."- He babbled, not aware of his words, and clutched the sheets.

I couldn't sleep either, in fact, and it's weird because I again got the feeling of uneasiness and fear like last time during the night. Today was a sentimental day, then cheery and positive, but during nighttime, I felt scared, vulnerable, like a monster's gonna lash at me from beneath the bed... and I hate to feel like this. I hate for Marco to feel like this. I wonder why. Why does the night make me feel like this? Is it the darkness because I can't see what's before me? I dunno, but I did knew Marco was feeling the same and I couldn't help but wonder if we'll end up crazy and cursing in an asylum like Gotham's (still got a nerdy quip in me).

Marco quivered and slowly, I cocooned ourselves within the sheets and embraced him tight against my body, his head on my chest. I needed this, we both needed this. I ignored my surroundings and just focused on him, on his warmth and decreasing tremor.

The hours passed and my eyes finally started to drop...

Next day, my boyfriend woke up crying again around 5 am, complaining about feeling helpless and anxious that something's about to happen soon. He didn't know what, but he couldn't shake the feeling of a bad omen. To distract his mind, I offered him to accompany me to the hospital's pharmacy. We weren't supposed to be walking around the building like this, but apparently, Celine made the arrangements and got our permission to go where we pleased (expect the restricted areas, of course, like the floor with cancerous patients and patients under operations). In the pharmacy, I bought a few colorings books, exercise books with crosswords, sudokus and other puzzle stuff, and of course, crayons.

As I passed through the shelves and dropped everything in the bag, Marco trudged behind me, already exhausted, so I decided to go to our room -by his implore- but before I did, I saw one of those notebooks with blank pages inside them, with no lines or draws. I opened it and thought about buying it for Marco; yesterday, while he expressed how depression felt like to him, he told me it felt like a blank canvas in which, step by step, he fills with gray colors. I made the analogy and maybe if he has the opportunity to draw with color, the sentiment will be... I dunno, different. It'll change and maybe he won't feel like his life is all in grayscale.

Without a second thought, I took it along with a few regular pencils, colorings pencils and sauntered to the cashier. I paid, grabbed Marco's hands and pulled him to the elevator because he was practically dragging his legs. He was kind of sloven today, -"You okay?"- I asked as the elevator ascended to our floor.

He didn't say anything, he just wrapped his arms around himself and shrugged.

-"I bought you some stuff. You'll like them."- I said and raised my bag.

He seemed uninterested in it, -"Are we there yet?"- And he wanted to get to the room asap.

I glanced at the elevator's pad and nodded, -"Yup."- And just then, the door opened and we headed towards our room, holding hands. His were really cold today too.

Immediately when we entered the room, Marco slacked on the bed and cocooned himself within the sheets. He sighed a lot and laid stiff there. I got the things out of the bag and placed them on the small table just in front of the window that looked down to the parking lot.

I wanted Marco up and around, but I let him rest in his bed for a few minutes.

A few hours passed and Marco was still in bed, covered in sheets and staring at the blank wall. I tapped the table with my finger before I sauntered towards my boyfriend. He was extra idle and gloomy today, and I was worried, -"Hey, Marco, wanna color something with me? I got some coloring books and other stuff from the pharmacy to, you know, do something else."

He didn't budge, but I knew he was aware of my intentions.

-"I bought paints, paintbrushes and a book with blank pages."- I added.

His head perked up as he turned around to face me. I lifted the book and showed him the paints too. He quickly noted something: no dark colors. The paint jars I picked were all bright colors; pink, red, orange, blue, sky blue, white, green, lime, etc. I got his attention.

Slowly, he dismounted the bed and I helped him, -"What's the color book about?"- He's speaking slowly again.

I pulled two chairs and flitted them close to the table, -"There's one of the Justice League, another one of Superman and the other is one's about Batman,"- I smiled as I saw his face slowly light up at the mess of art stuff on the table, -"Which is mine, but I can share a few pages."- I winked at him and gestured him to sit down.

And he did and we spent long hours coloring and painting. I wasn't on Marco's level, not by a long shot, but hey, my Batmans are cool. I used to draw too.

When he started painting on the blank canvas, he often complained he wasn't doing good (which is not true) and his eyes watered. I opted to make him feel better, -"Don't say that, Marco."

The Superman he was drawing looked amazing but sloppy, -"But he looks weird. I suck at this."

-"Okay, let's try something different then,"- I gave him few ideas and with my help, we did an amazing pair of wings with the colors of the rainbows. Marco was in love with it and I saw a spark of confidence in his eyes as he drew a field of sunflowers next and it looked simply marvelous. Marco's an exceptional artist and when he works with colors, uff, -"See? You have nothing to complain about, Marco. You're an amazing painter and I know you'll be the best."

Marco smiled as his eyes watered before me, -"I... I was thinking of mom. She loves sunflowers."

-"Then show it to her or better yet, give it to her as a gift for the best mom ever."- I offered and I was glad he thought of her.

-"I was thinking that same thing."

So after it dried, we saved it for her when she gets back.

-"Hey, look at this,"- I showed him my attempts at painting Batman, but it sucked. I ended up mixing the colors (yeah, colors, I didn't buy black on purpose), -"He looks like an alien or a demon."

My boyfriend chuckled lowly, -"You have to wait for the painting to dry up before you paint over it."

-"Oh,"- I snorted, almost spitting my paper, -"Well, that was obvious. I'm a moron."

-"And... Batman's costume all dark."- He added.

-"I know."- I gave him a knowing smile and his eyes slowly widened. He knew why I didn't buy dark colors. I wanted Marco to paint bright colors on his canvas, I wanted him to see that his life's not in grayscale.

-"Jean..."- And like these days, he cried and hugged me firmly.

-"Whoa!"- I exclaimed as I faked my hand dipped into the red jar by accident. With that finger, I drew a sloppy heart on his cheek. When we parted, I pointed at him, -"Uh, babe, you got somethin' there."

-"Huh? What is it?"- He took the small mirror that was lying around the room and hovered it near his face. He blushed at the heart and giggled, -"Hey!"- He dipped his finger too and smeared my face.

Then we started placing our tainted hands on the blank papers, painting every detail of it. And after that, we did the crosswords and the sudoku. My boyfriend was an egghead so he slain me on the mathematical puzzles. I could only complete a few crosswords and that was something.

We were enjoying our evening until Zackly rushed in, asking me to go with him to review my condition, -"I'm not leaving Marco alone."- I said quickly.

The old man sighed, -"It is only for a few minutes, Kirshtein."

A few minutes can be long hours for Marco, so I shook my head.

Zackly didn't seem to comprehend how depression works. He beckoned me towards the door, -"Now."- He was pissed again.

I was about to deny again when Marco placed his hand on my shoulder and smiled tenderly, -"It's okay, Jean, go. I'll be fine."- I saw that spark of confidence again.

-"But-"

-"You believe in me, right?"- He asked, his eyes narrowing me lovingly.

I nodded vigorously, -"Yeah, I do, Marco,"- I leaned close to him and planted a soft kiss on his lips, -"I'll be back soon, okay?"

-"Okay."- He nodded and turned to his draws.

I stood up and left with the old man to my old room. We checked the new results of the CT scan and my rib has shown progress in its healing. I practiced the whole breathing technique with him for a few minutes

I was about to leave, anxious to the bone despite what Marco said, when he spoke, -"I have been thinking about your father."

I halted my steps and looked over my shoulder, quirking an eyebrow.

-"What he did is still not right, but...,"- He sighed and flittled his glasses to their place, -"You were right. I was too harsh with him and I do understand him."

-"How's that?"

-"If Leticia died...,"- That must be his wife and the glint he had in his eyes told me he loved her deeply, -"I would want to disappear too."

Okay, so I wasn't really expecting he'd admit that and I was stunned.

-"Forgive me for treating your father like I did. It was wrong and I promise I will not do it again."- He added, now facing me.

Double stunned.

When he coughed, I knew he has been waiting for an answer for at least three minutes, -"Uh... thanks. I'd -we'd both appreciate it."

He nodded and dismissed me. I walked to my new room still stunned the fuck out. Zackly, the grumpy and aloof old man, just apologized to me? This has gotta be the front topic in a newspaper.

Back in the room, I bent and panted, -"I'm... back,"- When I rose, I saw Marco still drawing, calm and cozy with the bed's sheets around his body. I smiled proudly as I sauntered to him, -"Whatcha doin'?"- I asked, watching him doodling some tall figure.

He gasped and tried to hide the paper from me, -"Um... nothing!"

-"Aw, come on, freckles!"- I whined and started tickling him. He giggled and tried to push me away. At that moment, I snatched the paper from his table and observed it: I saw... myself or, at least, a dribble of me, and below it, the title: My Hero.

Well, I'm glad I'm not the only cheesy one.

Marco was blushing a lot, trying to seize the paper off my hands, -"Jean, g-give it back! I wasn't done!"- He was flustered and I loved to see him like that. Still, I was kinda surprised and frozen so he managed to take it from me, -"Y-you weren't supposed to see it yet..."- He pouted and continued working on it.

I chuckled, warmed and gleeful to the bone, and ruffled his hair. I felt my own cheeks heat up, -"So I'm your hero then? I defeated Superman?"- I jibed, feeling gaiety within me at the fact that Marco was definitely getting better.

He chuckled too and waved me off, -"Pfft, no. No one can defeat Superman."

Here comes our usual geekly discussion, -"Oh yeah? Batman did."

He gazed at me and raised an eyebrow, -"Really, Jean? He wasn't alone, you know. Green Arrow and Carrie were with him."

-"Yeah, but B did all the beating and the awesome pick-up line,"- I did a stupid pose resembling Batman, -"'In all the years to come, in your most private moments... I want you to remember... the one man who BEAT you.'"- So yeah, I still have some geekiness in me. I saw Batman the Dark Knight Returns like ten times and I know that line like my daily locution.

Marco just laughed.

I pouted and started tickling him again, his sweet giggles like tunes in my ears and I wanted to hear it more, I wanted Marco to laugh and smile more.

Suddenly, he pulled my head down and whispered in my ear, -"You did beat him, Jean."

My body vibrated in joy at his soft and sweet voice that echoed in my ears. That was all it took for me to push him to bed gently and make out with him for the rest of the evening until the night caught up with us.

Note: I just saw Batman vs Superman so it kind of reflected there, didn't it? xD

Also, let me know if I got something wrong on depression! I haven't experienced it and I'm aware it's different for people so the things I research in the web may not be accurate!