Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan.

SEVENTY-NINE

-"It seems your rib has shown more progress."

I was pressing the area tightly and relief overwhelmed me when it didn't hurt as much as before. It wasn't difficult to breathe deeply anymore and now I could twist my body without wincing, -"It was about time, don't you think? I've been here for almost a month now."- I said to the old man before me.

-"Indeed."- The way he said that sounded like he was more relieved I'd be released from the hospital soon.

-"Stop with the act, old man, you know you'll miss me."- I swung my legs back and forth while looking at him and jiggling my eyebrows vertically.

He made a face and continued to examine me.

So as far as you've seen, I've been here for a while now and my rib has gotten better. I saw the results from the last CT scan and the crack wasn't as wide and long as the first time I saw it. It's needless to say that my bruises have vanished and trotting around the hospital was the first thing I did, by recommendation of ol' Zackly himself. He said that now that my contusions have healed, I should start doing exercises again so that I don't lose and scramble my physical condition, so yeah, that's what I've been doing these last few weeks.

Now let's talk about Marco.

My boyfriend's condition was moderate, according to his mother. His depression was still there and delicate, but Celine has seen him get better and so have I; Marco wasn't crying as much as before and his smiles were more genuine now, not forced. He has also slept more hours, like 3 or 4 more, and not to forget his appetite. I'm not getting in there. Well, let's just say he has gained a few pounds. It's all because of the affection I was giving him and the antidepressants his mother prescribed him with. The effects were slow, but they were showing.

The bad news is that he still gets nightmares, and he was still a bit gloomy and edgy with most of the people. He still had that foreboding that something bad will happen and he doesn't know when or what will happen.

I was on my way to our room, trotting while breathing steadily and carefully . I went with Celine to my house a few days ago to pick up my workout stuff and I now had the tight sweatshirt that nurses around here couldn't peel their eyes off. Still, I kept thinking about Marco and the looks he'd give me. I swear, my body flares up just thinking about it. However, when I reached our room, I saw Marco still on the bed, his body sagged and sprawled... and he was snoring. I looked at the near clock: 1:30. Way too late for Marco. My boyfriend's a morning guy.

I jolted his body, -"Oi, Marco,"- Does he have hypersomnia now? -"Wake up."- I didn't know if it was a bad thing or not (because I want him to sleep), but I think it's way past his usual sleeping hours.

My boyfriend's body writhed into sheets, away from my arms, -"Mhm..."- He muttered something.

-"Huh? You said somethin'?"

-"Just five more..."- He twisted and embosomed the sheets and in the process, he rose one of his legs, revealing his nice thigh and the tip of his sweet bun. I licked my lips and really couldn't help myself from lashing forward and biting it.

Marco yelped and sat up abruptly, covering and rubbing his cute bun from my lecherous stare, -"Ow, Jean!"- He exclaimed, his face red and lips pouted.

I laughed, -"Now you're up!"- I then smirked and winked at him, -"I should do that more often."

-"No, I should do that more often!"- He replied, still rubbing his butt, -"You sleep like a rock!"

I just laughed and leaned against the bed, supporting myself with both hands on the bed's hurdle, -"Go ahead,"- I winked with both eyes and smirked. Marco rubbed his eyes and finally observed me. There's that look I couldn't stop thinking about; my boyfriend swooped his eyes through my torso while biting his lips and landed at my waist. I grinned and whistled, -"Hey, babe, my eyes are up here."

He blushed and gaped his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

-"No excuse this time, huh?"

He giggled and slumped back on the bed, patting the space beside him, beckoning me to snuggle with him. Of course, I didn't deny. I quickly joined him and in a second, we were making out, arms and legs around each other with no space between us whatsoever. We sucked our air out while I trailed my hand through his smooth thigh and pulled his hips closer to mines, feeling his bulge on my pelvis. As I toyed with his earlobe with my tongue, I started to dip my hand into his wet underwear when the door swung open and a penetrating shrill bounced the walls, -"Oh my God, get a room you two!"

Marco parted from me with a deep gasp, quickly pulling down his robe, while I just growled. I sat up, very reluctantly, and spotted our pretty boy covering his face with that clipboard he always carries around, -"Yeah, well, we're in our room so get the fuck out."- As breathless and sweaty as I was, I manage to blurt that out while glaring at him.

-"God, what I meant was to get a more private room, Jean!"- He spoke, completely flustered and embarrassed, -"This isn't exactly a private room, you know! Nurses and doctor come and go!"

I just rolled my eyes, -"Fuck off, Rubert."- I was really pissed at him for interrupting our heavy moment and I really wanted to get back to it because I was really aroused and hard. Then again, the pretty boy had a point; this room wasn't exactly private.

-"I-I'm not going anywhere! I came to check up on you because it's my damn job!"- He waved his hand at us without exposing his face to our PDA, -"Just... peel off for a second."

I was about to refuse until I noticed Marco tidying his robe and sitting up. I pouted, crossed my arms and huffed, -"Fine,"- When we did, reluctantly, Rubert "checked up" on us. While awkward, he said a few lame jokes and puns and that's when I realized he wasn't really interested in doing his job. He wants to spend fun time with us and so it's time for me to admit that we've gotten used to having him come here often to chat with us. I can't say he's a friend yet, but he's fun to have around... until he gets flirty and tries to hit on Marco, -"You done yet, Blondie?"- I asked, desperate for some time alone with my boyfriend, even though my hard on was long since dead. I'll get it back up -or Marco will. Hopefully, he will.

-"Desperate to get heavy again, are we?"- I didn't like the current look on his face. He narrowed us both with this odd look that made me uneasy, -"Maybe I could... join you?"

My eyes snapped open as I observed him, guessing it might be a joke, but it wasn't. I pushed him away, just realizing his closeness, -"No fucking way,"- I said, now covering Marco because the guy couldn't avert his eye from him -that or I'm paranoid, -"Get out."

-"Aw, come on, don't be like that,"- He whined and leaned forward, -"It'll be fun."

I shook my head, -"Get the fuck out."- I repeated, now pointing a finger at the door. He pouted coyly and that just made me even more pissed. I dismounted the bed and gripped the collar of his med robe. He gasped, not expecting me to pull something like this and plus, I was glaring him to death; I must look intimidating and frightening. I then started pushing towards the door.

-"Wait, wait, wait!"- He began to shout, -"I-I didn't mean it! I was just joking!"

I ignored him and shoved him out of the door. It sure didn't look like a joke, fucker, -"Don't you dare come back, you prurient perv."- He kept saying he was just joking but I just slammed close the door.

I then turned to Marco and I saw his eyes wide and his mouth gaped, unable to believe what just happened -either my aggressive or Rubert's lewd behavior.

-"Can you believe that guy?"- I asked, waving my hands in exasperations, -"Who the hell does he think he is?"- Fuck, I'm so pissed.

Marco was speechless.

But I wasn't, -"I mean, what an ass, asking us something like that,"- I mounted the bed again and sat beside Marco, -"Guy's really fucking desperate to ask us, two younger guys he barely knows."- I tried to calm down because losing my shit for something like this might be too much for my mental health. It's a simple and normal situation, all I had to say was 'no'.

-"Yeah..."- And he agreed with me.

-"You, uh... wanna finish it?"- I asked, a hand on his knee, deadset on forgetting Blondie and his risque request.

-"Yeah, but... let's go somewhere else."- He said and dismounted the bed. I then followed him to the bathroom, where we closed the door and did our thing. We ended up given ourselves blowjobs and taking a long ass shower.

When we sauntered out, fresh and minty, Celine was waiting for us with Marco's antidepressants, -"You boys alright?"

Marco and I looked at each other and smiled, -"Yup."- I answered, feeling my cheeks warm and my body relaxed. In spite of all, Marco hasn't lost his touch in our romantic and hot, ahem, moments.

She chuckled, guessing what we were up to as she poured Marco's pull on her palm, -"I'm glad to hear that,"- With a glass of water, on the other hand, she sauntered towards Marco, -"Here."

Marco took the pills and gulped them with a sip of water. Just then, his stomach grumbled, -"Somebody's hungry."- I teased, poking Marco's belly.

He giggled and slapped my hand.

-"You should get something to eat then. Marco will get drowsy in a few hours."- His mother reminded us. It was one of the antidepressant effects.

I grabbed Marco's hand and pulled him out of the room. We walked to the usual cafeteria and ordered biscuits and hot chocolate. Marco fancied a frappe and a vanilla cheesecake. I was about to sit down but Marco begged me not to and I noticed how he kept side glancing at a near, eerie man leaning against the opposite wall, -"What's wrong?"- I admit, he looked suspicious, but Marco was utterly uneasy with his presence. The man has tattoos all over his crossed arms and he was tapping his foot on the floor briskly like he was desperate for something and couldn't wait any longer. I can't say he poses a risk, but he does look odd. Whatever he wants, it doesn't have to do with us.

-"Let's just go, please."- He said, avoiding looking at him. He was tense. I was thinking that this might be another symptom of depression, but Marco has always been insecure around people he considered suspicious. It might be judgy of him because he's definitely judging by physical appearance, which might not have anything to do with the person's motives, but I also understand that my boyfriend's intuition is sharp. His body and mind reacted to a possible threat in which I have no right to call it a farce.

-"Okay,"- I nodded and stood up, gathering our snacks, -"Relax. I'll protect you,"- I gestured him to walk before me and I followed him. We walked to our room and stepped out to the balcony, where I sat in a comfy chair, -"Better?"

Sure enough, his muscles relaxed and he released a pent-up breath, -"Yeah..."

We sat quietly and ate our snacks. We shared a few bites and comments here and then, but I got the hint that Marco wanted silence. As we watched the sky and the far skyscrapers, I tapped my finger on the chair's arm, desperate for some conversation. You know me, I can't stay quiet for long, -"So... how are you feeling?"

Marco sighed and leaned his body against the fence, frappe in hand, -"I'm... I don't know. I feel better than before if that's what you wanted to know."

-"Yeah, I'm glad to hear that."

-"It's all thanks to you, Jean,"- He started to turn around to face me, -"And you? How do you feel?"

-"I'll live,"- I snorted and stood up, walking close to him after dumping my empty plate, -"I'm like a punching bag. I get hit and beaten, but I hit back."- What a horrible analogy. I wanted to say something optimistic, but it wasn't in me.

-"You actually remind me of Batman."- He said, taking my hands in his.

-"How so?"- I quirked an eyebrow. Me? Batman? Not even close.

-"Like Batman, you've fallen a lot of times, but like him, you've always risen up again,"- He explained, resting his head on my chest and looking up at me, -"Have I told you that Bane broke his back once?"

-"I think I've heard of that, yeah."

-"Well, I was sure he'd give up on his vigilante mission after that, but he didn't; he stood back up and fought Bane again and defeated him."- He squeezed my hands and I got the hint that he was serious with his analogy.

I'm no gonna deny the fanboy-ish glee that his words ebbed me with because, hell yeah, that's awesome. I'm still nowhere near his level, but I can understand Marco's point -which I honestly think it applies more to him, considering his rough past, -"I'm not the only one,"- He tilted his head and I proceeded to explain, -"Marco, I've lost count of how many times you've been mistreated and judged, but you never gave up on yourself, unlike me, and that's... admirable and brave."

Marco was gazing at me, hearing my every word. He knew I was right, he knew what I was talking about.

-"I just... ran away from all of it because I couldn't handle it,"- My throat ached and my chin was sore, -"And I abandoned myself... I abandoned you."- Why do I always resort to this? Every once in a while, I wallow over this fact and I think I'll never be able to let it go because I couldn't really forgive myself for it.

He gaped his mouth to cheer me up quickly, to counterargue.

I interrupted him, -"But you, Marco, you never gave up, not on me nor yourself. You held on despite everything and I dunno how because I wouldn't even be here if I was in your place,"- I took a deep breath and lifted his head by his chin, -"One thing I do know: I'm not gonna do it again, I'm not gonna abandon myself or you ever again."

Marco smiled tenderly as he wrapped his arms around my torso, -"I know, Jean... I know. I believe in you too."

We kissed under the cloudy sky before it started drizzling. We were gonna head inside until Marco remembered his frappe he left on the balcony's fence. When he reached for it, though, he toppled it and lurched forward to reach for it. All of a sudden, he froze and just stared at the far end of the building.

-"Marco?"- I called him and placed a hand on his shoulder after getting no response. I felt his body shaking vigorously and when I gazed down the balcony, I kind of went stiff too as awful images of our incident flashed by quickly. It didn't last long, but for Marco...

-"Jean..."- His eyes welled and his mouth gaped into a deep wail.

I shrouded my arms around his chest and started pulling him back, -"It's alright, Marco, I'm here!"- I repeated, laying his body on the chair I was on a few minutes ago.

I knelt before him and jolted his leg. My boyfriend was still trembling uncontrollably and now had his hands covering his face. He cried, but he was trying to breathe, taking harsh intakes of breath, and instead choked on his own tears, -"Jean... I can't...,"- He babbled, clutching the chairs arms, -"C-call... mom..."

I did, as fast as I could. I rushed to our room and dialed Celine's number with my phone. My own body shook as I headed back to Marco. Don't panic, Jean, just... -"Hello?"- She answered.

-"Come to our room, quick!"- I spoke, too loud for comfort as I pressed my hand on Marco's chest, feeling his heart pound stoutly against my palm. It was racing, -"Marco needs you! He's... I dunno, he's shaking a lot and he can't breathe, he's-"

-"What?"- She replied, also speaking to someone on the other side, -"I'm on my way! Stay with him, please!"- She hung up quickly.

-"She's coming, Marco, she's-"- I spoke, trying to soothe both of us until I saw his grip on the chair falter and weaken. I saw his face blanch, his lips losing color, and his body devitalize on the chair, -"Marco? Tell me something, anything, please!"- He's fainting. I stroked his cheek and felt it sweaty.

He was still shaking and struggling to breathe, to compose himself, -"J-Jean..."- But he managed to mutter a few words, letting me know he was... what? Alive? Oh God, shit, fuck, what's going on? The fact that this reminded of that time I gave him his first blowjob, the day when he fainted on me and was motionless, just made this situation worse -and it is worse! I don't know why, but I know this isn't just a swoon.

Timely, the door of our room opened and Celene barged in with Rubert behind her. With my help, we carried Marco in a certain way to the bed and laid him straight. The next ten minutes were kind of a blur to me. I had no idea what was going on. The only thought in my head was that Marco was not okay and that whatever is happening had me panicked and when I panic, I don't focus. I lose control of the situation and screw up. If Marco hadn't told me to call his mom, I would've forgotten and just stayed there in front of him like an idiot as he fainted out.

Marco's mother paced around the room and did a few things on my boyfriend, repeating certain sentences over and over. She knew what she was doing and she knew what Marco was going trough. After Marco relaxed, or so I think, she briefed me. I was sitting in an armchair, jerking my legs up and down, as she divulged me that Marco just had a panic attack. She explained me of its causes, signs and symptoms and I cursed myself for my lack of knowledge.

You know what comes next, right? Yup, blame and guilt.

I tried not to mull over it as I answered her questions. She was trying to figure out what triggered it and we deduced it was because of the floor's height when he looked down from the balcony to catch his frappe. It's fairly obvious, now that I think of it. I was there, for fucks sake. It's clearly linked to our incident and his depression. He practically experienced the incident again and like me, he probably had the event flash by his mind, but with more depth and fear, -"Y-you really think so?"

Celine nodded, -"Yes, the odds that he develops a fear of heights are high. If so,"- She took a deep breath, glancing at her son's resting figure on the bed, -"This won't be his last panic attack."

Oh my fucking God, that doesn't sound good at all. Height... phobia? This can't get any worse, can it? I actually thought this very same thing a few weeks ago...

-"Jean,"- She called me, trying to set my mind on this and the importance of it, -"Since you're the one who will stay with him daily, you need to comprehend it in case he suffers from it again. I'll teach you a few techniques that will help him calm down, but I'll also teach him how to cope with it himself."

I kept nodding, ignoring my actual nervousness, eager to help Marco in any way possible.

I spent a few hours with Celine, who was teaching me techniques that will aid Marco with his panic attacks. She told me that a panic attack is a sudden surge of fear and anxiety; Marco will feel afraid without being in actual danger. He'll feel that his life is at risk when it's actually not. She said I have to remind him of that and speak in short and simple sentences when I do. She recommended that I move him to a quieter place, to be predictable and to avoid surprises. I also had to help Marco focus on reality -or focus per se- by repeating a simple, but tiring physical task. Most importantly, I have to help him breathe with pace; the counting to ten thing helps here. She lastly mentioned that it's helpful to say encouraging words to him.

It's a lot to take in and my head's already spinning, but I got a general idea of what do in case it occurs again.

Celine left, eventually, when she was sure the episode ended, and I was alone with Marco's resting figure. I sauntered towards him and stroked his hair, -"I'm sorry, Marco, I should've known...,"- There I go again, -"I could have helped you overcome it, but..."- Fuck, I really hate this. First PTSD, then depression and now panic attacks? That school has done enough to Marco. I want to blow the place up. I want to see it in shambles. I want to see it burn, buried and destroyed. I want... I want...

-"Jean...?"- My boyfriend's mellow voice snapped me from my belligerent thoughts.

-"Hey...,"- I spoke, my voice shaky, -"I... I thought you were asleep."- Did he hear everything Celine told me? We spoke in a low tone, but I bet my ass Marco knows what he's dealing with.

He rubbed his eyes and flipped them open, -"I... tried to, but I can't."

Without a second thought, I mounted the bed and did the usual. Rub his hair, make him drowsy and whisper sweet nothings, distract his mind from those thoughts obstructing his sleep. We ended up talking about it anyway. Marco couldn't take it off his mind, -"It was so weird. I felt like I was going crazy..."

-"What do you mean?"

-"I know about panic attacks and I know a few ways to manage it, but I never thought I'd... experience one. I knew I was having one, but I couldn't... think, I couldn't move my body. I didn't know what was real and I kept hearing your voice, but I was lost..."- He rambled, curled within the sheets close to me.

-"I promise I'll make it stop next time,"- I cringe at the thought, -"Though I really hope there isn't another one..."

-"Me too...,"- He squeezed his embrace on me, -"I was so afraid, Jean..."

-"It's okay, Marco,"- I squeezed him too, burying my face in his hair, -"It's... okay to be afraid."

Remember when I said I really hoped Marco wouldn't get another panic attack?

Touche.

I dropped all the food I just bought to the white floor, flatly, landing with a loud crash and splash. I hadn't thought about it and I ignored it as I made way towards Marco, who was standing rigidly in the middle of the crowded cafeteria, clutching his robe firmly, waiting and watching his panic attack, like his mom taught him.

I wonder what reminded him of the incident this time. I wonder what triggered it.

Doesn't matter now. He does.

I stood before him, -"Marco, I'm here, okay?"- I gripped his arms tightly, trying to make him realize that someone was with him on this, that he could distinguish reality from falseness (and I mean the part where he thinks he's in danger). Like last time, he was shaking madly and briskly, his body sweaty and feeble. In addition, he struggled with his breathing; he was choking like he was drowning.

-"Is he okay?"

-"What's happening to him?"

-"Is he crazy or something?"

Jesus fuck. Too many people around me, too many noises. They'll derail him from hearing mines, from this whole subsisting process. I have to get him out of here.

I hoisted my boyfriend in my arms, bridal style, and carried him all the way to a secluded area -yeah, the bathroom- where I had to ask a few people to get the fuck out. Oh God, I'm shaking too. I'm panicking, scared and anxious too. Focus, Jean. Remember what Celine told you. Remember the last time you allowed fear and fright cloud you.

Yeah, yeah, I fucked up. Not gonna happen now.

I sat on the toilet's lid and knelt before him, gripping his knees tightly and stroking the area, -"Marco, it's Jean. I'm here with you,"- I said and repeated. His head was hung, so I took his chin and lifted his head, staring straight at his eyes. They were mildly open, -"Hey, babe, it's me."

-"Jean...,"- His lips shook as he tried to keep his eyes on me, -"I-it's... happening... a-again..."- He breathed raggedly. He was hyperventilating, his chest inflating and deflating rapidly.

-"I know, but I'm here and I know what I have to do,"- I said and cursed mentally. I have to speak in simple sentences, -"Eyes on me, okay?"

He nodded and kept his eyes on mines firmly, with much effort.

I gripped his hands next, both of them, -"Now, breathe with me. Ten times,"- I started and he followed. Inhale and exhale, -"Slowly. In and out."

His breaths were still irregular, but more controlled. With his eyes wide open, he followed my lead.

-"That's it. You're doing good,"- I cheered, feeling his hot breaths against my face as he exhaled with flickering lips, -"That's my Bodt."

-"I'm... s-scared..."- He murmured, his legs shaking beneath our hands.

I squeezed my grip on said hands, -"I'm scared too, babe,"- I smiled and rubbed my finger on his palm, -"But it's okay. It's okay to be afraid."

He nodded, finding comfort in my words as he inhaled and exhaled more successfully without struggle ten times.

-"That's much better. I'm proud of you,"- I complimented him, following his mother's suggestion of encouraging him, -"You're brave, Marco."

We kept the pace for a few minutes until I called it clear. Marco's shaking subsided and his rapid heart beats decreased. I kept rubbing his hands and knees, -"Better?"- I asked, looking straight at his eyes and finding relief.

He nodded and lurched forward abruptly, embracing and squeezing me tightly, -"Jean..."- He murmured something in my ear, a deep and muffled bawl following after.

-"Let's get to the room, yeah?"- I propelled my body up but Marco squeezed my arms tighter and pulled me back down, -"Hey..."- He wasn't shaking or anything, but he couldn't unearth his head from my shoulder. It reminded me of that night he held on to me like his life depended on it, like if he let go, he'd never see me again. I deduced it's a sentiment caused by depression, feeling hopeless and defenseless, to cling to me like this. Marco's a clever guy, capable of taking care of himself, but in this state (or any ill state) he's completely vulnerable and helpless. All in all, I don't complain and just take care of him for however long I have to. That's what I'm here for. Besides, he's overly cute like this, despite the dismal it brings to me seeing him sick.

-"Just... stay with me here for a little longer,"- He said, still clinging to me and my robe, -"Give... me a sec."

I knelt again and wrapped my arms around his torso, -"It's okay, take your time."- I'm guessing he's still feeling queasy from his panic attack.

We waited another few minutes until he decided to go. While we walked, I had my arm around his back, just in case. As we ascended in the elevator, Marco rested his head on my shoulder and sighed deeply, -"Thank you..."

-"Hm?"

-"Back there,"- He explained, inhaling my neck's scent, -"I... tried to manage it myself, but I couldn't. I'm so-"- He swallowed his words. By impulsive and depression, he was about to dishearten himself, but he stopped his tongue before he could even mutter it.

I smiled, full of pride, -"It's alright. I'm here for you and I'm positive you'll get it next time."- Yeah, I know he will. It's been a few weeks since his first panic attack and since then, I've noticed the antidepressants and my unending affection making an effect. It was slow, but it was there. Marco was more peaceful with himself and his self-esteem was gradually increasing. He's aware of his condition and was at ease with it. He knew every detail of it; he had practiced the self-defense against panic attack a lot of times with me and his mom so I'm certain he'll beat it next time.

Today's panic attack was abrupt, though. I wanted to ask him what triggered it, but I didn't know if it was a good idea.

He beat me to it, -"I saw a guy in the cafeteria that looked a lot like the one who pushed me in school..."

-"Marco..."- He was talking about Kuan. His name brought me rage and hate.

-"At that moment, I was certain it was him,"- He narrated, head still on my shoulder and arms around my torso, -"I suddenly saw him push me again and I was falling. I was experiencing the whole incident in my mind again, but it felt so real..."- His grip on me tightened.

I hugged him and lifted his head, -"It wasn't, Marco, and you know I won't allow something like that to happen again."- My words were venomous and full of hate and Marco didn't miss it.

-"You look scary like that."- His expressions contorted into distress at my knitted brows and clenched teeth.

I tried to calm down and soothe my unstable temper. Marco plain dislikes it, -"I'm sorry."- I apologized because I also disliked scaring him, but I sometimes can't help it.

Back in our room, I told Celine everything and she was glad I was there with him. She knew I'd be able to help him and after giving Marco his dose, she ordered some nurses to bring us food. We were both starving and I, big dumb I am, dropped what I bought at the cafeteria and totally forgot about it.

While we ate, we watched comic based movies, but Marco was tired and fell asleep on my abdomen. I had unconsciously rubbed his hair, a deed that makes him drowsy -makes us drowsy, let me correct myself. My eyes were constantly dropping and I fell asleep too without turning the TV off.

I want to cite a few sources where I did research on: helpguide and anxietycoach.