Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan.

EIGHTY-SEVEN

No… this can't be… why is he here?! I thought I dealt with him before! I rambled mentally, eyes carved on Frank, my worst nightmare, the guy that turned me into a fighting machine and a jar of hate. It's… all coming back; the fights, the screams, the tears, the hate, the pain, the disdain, the… everything.

-"Oi, Jean! Are you even listening to me?"- Frank was speaking very loud, -"Have you even noticed your cute boyfriend in my arms? He so soft and warm that it makes me wanna wring him so hard."- As he said that, he tightened his arm around Marco's neck, making this one cough.

-"J-Jean…"- Marco whimpered, putting effort into not shedding a single tear even though he wanted to burst in cries. He's scared. He's really scared. Frank wasn't only my worst nightmare. Marco was aggressed a lot by this guy and it traumatized him. Dishonorably, I took part of it and attempted against him, back when I was pals with Frank, back when I was a nobody, a jerk and a try-hard. I was part of the group that mocked him and threw water balloons at him but like Marco himself said, I have to sever ties with the past.

Moving past that mental reflection, I wondered why Marco hasn't done something to escape but just then, I saw why and it made cold shivers shook my entire body with fear and desperation: a gun was firmly pressed against his back. An immense dread began to spur me into pleading, -"N-no, you can't be serious…,"- This can't be real, he can't seriously be thinking to kill us…, -"Frank… please, don't…"

But then I remembered why he wanted us killed and out of the face of the Earth. I also remember that we've been attempted at murder before, on the school ceiling's, so this really shouldn't be new for us. Then again, this wasn't Kuan or Riu, it was Frank. Plus, no matter how many times we go through this, it'll still terrify us. Out of us both, Marco's at the precipice of death… again. He's trembling, sweating with fear. He's at the cold end of that gun and if Frank pulls the trigger…

-"Yeah, beg all you want,"- He said, grinning wickedly at my pitiful figure. I hadn't noticed before; Frank had the Military Police uniform, like Nile. Did he come with them? It's the only logical answer to his abrupt appearance, -"But you know what? I don't pity you. You both ruined my life, humiliated me! You fucked everything up, you took away everything I had! I had a perfect life, I was respected and envied but you… you both… ruined it!"- Revenge. He wants revenger, he wants us to pay. He pressed the gun deeper in Marco's skin and started choking him, -"Come on! Fight me, Jean, and try to save your pathetic boyfriend one last time! Only one of us will come out of here alive but don't worry,"- He trailed the gun up to Marco's neck and pressed harshly, making Marco tremble and whine in terror, -"… I'll save ya' a nice trip to hell!"- Marco was slowly stirring his body to escape Frank's grip but this one noticed and quickly pressed the gun's shaft on his temple, -"Another move and I'll blow your brain off!"

Marco whimpered and looked away, shutting his eye close and making an unwanted tear slip off.

This guy's… fucking delirious! -"Enough!"- I yelled, forcing myself to shake off the undeniable fear in me. The way he grins when he hurts Marco carved on my mind and I felt that wrath bubbling within me, -"If you want to fight me, leave him out of this and don't you fucking dare hurt him again!"

-"Or what?"- He spat, teasingly twirling the gun on Marco's temple.

I gritted my teeth a bit too harshly, -"You'll be the one taking a trip to hell."- My own seriousness surprised me. I'll definitely kill him if he hurts Marco. I'll fucking spit and piss on his corpse. I'll fucking dump it. I'll fucking feed it to the hounds or any other animal that eats human flesh.

Frank laughed out loud and purposely tossed Marco aside with force. With a loud thud, he slammed against the wall and slid down, groaning, -"Oh, one more thing before we begin,"- Before I could attack Frank, he kicked Marco's spoilt knee. With a sharp cry, Marco reached for it with both hands and stroked it. All the pent-up tears burst out and dripped down, making a small pond of tears on the floor. Marco's cries resonated in my ears like echoes, reminding me of Frank aggressive and ruthless nature. He's provoking me. I knew he was provoking me on purpose and yet I couldn't control myself. My anger overwhelmed me and I attacked immediately, launching a punch straight to Frank's face but he saw it coming and caught my arm with a sharp perception and reflexes, -"Are you mad, Jean? Am I making you think about killing me? That's good,"- I swung my other fist towards his head but he caught that one too and pulled me closer to him, -"Anger is power."- He murmured right in my ear before kicking me flat against the wall behind me.

-"Shut up!"- I growled and lashed at him again, swinging my clenched hands at him. He blocked it with his forearm up and then elbowed the core of my neck. A sudden flash of blankness hampered my vision as I coughed and leaned on the wall, with a hand on my neck. A hand took hold of my face and slammed the rear of my head on the wall. I groaned, feeling myself in the edge of unconsciousness, as I gripped Frank's hand and tried pulling it off. I couldn't see anything and so I didn't foresee a knee-blow to my jaw.

I staggered and toppled to the wooden floor, losing consciousness already –what's worst, the fight had barely begun. He's… he's too strong. I haven't even hit him once, fuck! It frustrates me! I want to hit him, I want to knock him, I want to-

-"Jean…,"- Marco was crying, it was faint but I could hear him. He was suffering more by watching me getting beaten, -"Please… stop this. You can't blame us…"

Marco… don't…

-"Oh? I can't?"- Frank turned his attention to Marco and knelt before him, -"Let me tell you a story, little guy. After your stupid boyfriend humiliated me, I was taken to a madhouse. You both crossed me as a madman and I was treated like shit there. I lost even more of my life and do you know what it's like to keep hearing 'Jean this, Jean that' and 'Marco this, Marco that'? It was like torture and who the fuck am I supposed to blame, huh?"

-"It wasn't our… fault,"- He spoke lowly, gulping and muffling his wails. I saw him struggling to step up and confront Frank, but he was trying, he was really trying to overcome his fears, -"You abused us and the way you treated us and others wasn't fair."- He was trying to mollify Frank but by now he should know it's impossible. This guy hates us with all his might. He was like Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars but less cool.

Frank huffed, -"I was just having fun, come on."

-"Well, it's not fun when your looked upon and treated badly, right?"- Marco debated with his brows furrowed.

If anything, he provoked Frank, as this one growled and suddenly snatched Marco's neck, pulling him closer to him. My blood boiled and the desire to kill Frank increased but I was still too light-headed. Every inch of my face and head thumped, -"You know what happened to the last person who told me that?"- Frank paused, glaring at Marco intensely, -"I killed him."

Marco coughed and looked away, gripping Frank's hand. We have no certainty if that's true. He might be attempting to scare us even more but we're both considering he might have told the truth.

-"What do you want, huh?"- Frank asked all of a sudden. He was playing with us, teasing us, -"Beg me to spare you and I might consider it."

Marco whimpered lowly as he slowly gazed at me, his eyes watering at my beaten figure, -"I… I want…,"- A tear escaped his eye as he gaped his mouth, -"I want you to… spare him. Please, don't hurt him anymore…"

Frank laughed out loud, still gripping Marco's neck and clawing his nails in his skin, making him wince, -"Aww, that's adorable. You must really love him, right? But spare him? Oh no, oh no no no no, you've got the wrong idea. He deserves that. I'm making him pay. He broke my nose, okay?"

I was regaining the bits of consciousness I lost and was trudging my way towards him. Somehow, though, he perceived me and did a round, low swoop with his leg and knocked me off my feet. On the floor, he aimed a kick to my chest and I blocked it with both arms, groaning at the pain of his foot pressing down. He had those huge, heavy combat boots and fuck, they left their mark on my arms when he pulled back and started kicking me on random areas. I rolled aside and stood up, quickly launching another reckless and thoughtless attack.

You need to focus. You need to think. You need to strategize your attacks. He's defeating you because you're hasty and heedless. The rational me spoke.

You need to finish him. Now. He's going to kill Marco! The reckless me was 90% of my nature and I thoughtlessly follow it because it's the quickest, it's the one that most appeal to me, it's the one that solely cares for Marco.

Patience. Observe, then attack. That's the 10% of me, the one that Marco has slowly built.

I had to focus. I can't misstep or his next attack will finally knock me out or kill me. I can't let that happen. No matter how fast my adrenaline is rushing through my veins and how fast my heart's beating, I can't screw this. We're both in peril of death –but I'm more in danger. Miraculously, Frank pities Marco, which is more than I can say for myself. If I keep Frank occupied and Marco flees, the brute won't go after him. He's after me. He wants me to pay more than he wants Marco to pay. Then there's the fact that Marco won't abandon me, he'll try to help me –plus, his knee's wounded. He won't be able to walk, much less run. Then there's the other fact: I warned Axel that if I don't return to school in ten minutes, something's up, and I told him to come after me. We have to survive for ten minutes.

-"Come on, Jean! Attack me!"- Rushed Frank, walking in circles around me.

With my anger laid aside, I paced around him too as I observed him; he's taller, bulkier and smarter. He's quicker and much more precise. Whatever training he has undertaken has done him good, changed him. If I'm going to defeat him (and I plan to), I had to be quicker.

-"What are you doing? Trying to be smart and outwit me, huh?"- He spoke, observing me too, -"Whatever it is, it won't work. I'm stronger now, I'm superior than you, Jean."

There's his immutable ego. That, his belligerence and his bravado hasn't changed one bit.

I watched him and I realized there's no room for me to pull random stunts on him, so I have to equalize his reflexes and survive for the next 6 or 7 minutes. I don't know. I don't have a clock on me.

Another thing he hasn't changed: his impatience. He growled angrily and finally lashed at me. I rolled away and dodged a round kick headed for my face. Quickly, I did the same low kick of his and managed to stagger him. I didn't give him time to regain his balance. I rushed towards him and punched his face. I was going in for another one but just then he steadied himself and I leapt back, dodging a full drawn uppercut by an inch. I gotta do like in videogames: hit, dodge, hit, dodge. Frank cursed and moved forward with a straight kick. I sidled away and threw a kick at his back. When it hit him, I pulled back quickly and dodged another kick from him.

Fuck, I'm sweating like a fucking pig. This fight is some kind of hardcore gaming level. Frank's like a final boss.

Frank executed a series of movements after that, really running out of patience, kind of like a combo, and I kept dodging them all until I had no more space and hit the wall. He rapidly pinned me and threw continuous punches at my face. I focused on his moves and dodged them one after the other, making him hit the wall instead. He winced and impulsively rubbed it with his other hand, giving me the opportunity to punch his face and push him to the floor. I straddled him quickly and began to smack his face until he gripped my hair and pushed my head against his, slamming my forehead with his.

An immense shot of pain made me cry out and rose to my feet as I rubbed my already sentient forehead, wincing and groaning, -"Argh, fuck!"- Shit, it fucking hurts!

Oh but he didn't give me time to recover either. He retaliated and punched my face with vigor, leaving me swollen and wailing on the floor as I spat blood. I can't feel my face anymore… I'm seeing dark dots around me…

-"Jean!"- Marco was crying louder, -"Stop, please! Leave him alone!"

But Frank didn't, -"This is the end, Jean! Now look at me!"- He gripped my neck with both hands and started chocking me. I saw his face wrinkled and furrowed, full of hate and anger towards me, -"I want you remember the one guy whom you thought you've defeated killed you! I want that to torture you forever in the afterlife!"

Frank tightened his grip on me, especially on the core of my neck, and the dark dots got wider. I coughed and begged for air but he didn't even flinched. He kept chocking me until I felt my neck bloat as he carved his nails on my skin, pressing harshly against my apple. I wheezed and tried to cry but I couldn't… all I did was gurgle and cough. I felt my eyes roll back slowly…

I can't breathe…

A sudden rush of cold and shiver ebbed through my body as my vision got dark.

I'm dying…

-"Jean!"- I was in the brink of death by suffocation when I stopped feeling Frank's hand on my neck. I heard thuds and loud groans, followed by curses and cries. My head was spinning and I couldn't breathe properly, making me cough incessantly.

-"Fuck, stay down already!"- The groans and cries got louder and I recognized it. It was Marco's, -"I'll come back for you once I'm done with him!"

I forced my eyes open as I heard footsteps closing in. With my vision blurry, I barely saw Frank closing in but Marco suddenly jumped on him from behind, swathing his arm around his neck and pulling him back, away from me, -"Leave him alone!"- Marco bit Frank's neck harshly, making this once shout in pain and anger.

-"Damn you, you little shit!"- Frank drove his body back, with Marco still clinging on him, and slammed him against the wall several times but Marco's grip on him didn't faltered, -"I'm done with you!"- Frank snapped, completely wrathful with Marco, and slammed his head back on Marco's forehead, kind of like he did to me. Marco cried in pain and his grip slipped a bit but that was enough for Frank to escape Marco's grasp, pull the gun out and aim it at his torso.

Time kind of froze for me as I saw Marco gasp in terror when he saw the gun. For him though, it was too fast and plus, he was too stunned to avoid or stop Frank from pulling the trigger, the loud bang rattling our ears. In slow motion, I saw Marco falling with his hand around his wound. I saw the droplets of blood drip and slosh on the floor as his body met with the rotten wood. Marco writhed and twitched, coughing and crying, tears streaming down his cheeks at the unbearable pain. His blood spilled and pooled around him, soaking his clothes, -"Je… an…,"- He slurred, coughing trickles of blood and wailing in pain and terror, -"I'm… sorry…"

Marco, no! I was screaming internally because I couldn't verbally. Every nerve in me went aflame, screaming in horror and anger, every cell of my brain reeled, my stomach churned and my throat scorched as I tried to cry out for him, no, no, no, no, no! This can't be how this ends! This can't be happening!

Frank knelt beside Marco and probed his gun against his head, -"Ops, that bullet wasn't meant for you but oh well,"- He shrugged, -"At least you're out of the way so I can finally deal with your boyfriend,"- He sheathed the gun and probed Marco's deep injury with his finger, making Marco cry in pain, -"How does it feel? Painful, I bet but hey..."

As he kept prattling bullshit and teasing Marco, my blood boiled like never before. An overwhelming hotness filled me as hated and anger were the only emotions in my heart. Vengeance was the only thought in my head and as I saw Marco's injured figure and heard Frank torturing him with his venomous words, those thoughts and emotions increased. I want Frank to pay. I want… I want…

… to kill him!

I've had enough of this! If he dies, he won't chase us anymore and this'll be all over!

I forced my body up despite its complaints and limped towards Frank, really overdoing myself but giving no fucks. He perceived me and immediately turned around, leaving Marco to bleed out, -"Look at you,"- He spoke, his eyes carved on mines as a devious grin rose to his lips, -"All full of anger and hate. You want to kill me, don't-"

Irritated and tired by his continuous blabber, I growled and lunged forward fast, taking him a bit by surprise, considering my current physical state. I quickly and blatantly reached for his gun but he moved his hip aside and grasped my neck, chocking me again. This time, thought, I smacked my head against his quickly several times, ignoring he pain again. Frank groaned, still not letting go of me so I kicked and kneed him randomly. His grip didn't falter until I kicked his groin like four times with vigor, making him let go of me to rub the area. He composed himself quickly and attacked me, though, but I dodge it and pushed him against the wall, arms wrapped around his torso. He elbowed my back while I punched his abdomen, -"Fuck you!"- He cursed as he punched my head and pulled my arms off of his torso.

-"You're gonna pay!"- I yelled as I pulled back and brawled with him. My main goal was to kill him with his own gun and his goal was to suffocate me so when he grasped my neck again with both hands, I kicked his gun from its holster. Frank gasped and let go of my neck to reach for it but I gripped his hair and pulled him back towards me. He fought me off desperately, actually scared I'll really kill him. He got sloppy and fell face-first, reaching for his gun again until I straddled him, twisting his arm to his back and taking the handgun. I pressed it against his rear head, holding it in my hand firmly, -"You're dead, Frank! Dead!"- But when I pulled the trigger, not even thinking about it twice and ignoring Marco's calls, the gun clicked, out of ammo.

Frank laughed out loud, seeming like he was faking his fear a few minutes ago but I knew better, -"Once again, Jean, I've outdone you and-"

Even more angered, I smacked his own gun on his head, interrupting him, while still wringing his arm against his back firmly. I kept smacking his head with it until I tossed the handgun away, grasped his hair and smacked his face against the wooden floor. Frank groaned beneath me which each hit and I heard something crack. I wanted to hear it more, I want to crack his skull, his neck…! -"This is for Marco!"- I shoved his head against the floor again, with more force, -"For everything you've done to us!"- Again. I was feeling his head light already and hearing something dripping, -"For Diego, for Zaeed, for every fucking person you picked on!"

-"F… fu… ck… you…"

I heaved his head back, -"And this is for Marco!"- I yanked his head even harder, putting strength into my arm as the sound of something breaking echoed in my ear like a melody: his neck. With his free hand, Frank tried to reach for my arm, while coughing and rasping his mouth. One more pull and he's dead, one more pull and this'll all be over…

-"Jean, stop!"- Marco yelled, gurgling on the blood in his mouth. He coughed blood, slowly crawling towards me to stop my act.

And I snapped off of that rampage. I realized Marco was losing blood and if I don't do something, he'll-

Then pain struck my body; my face, my head, my abdomen and specially my neck. I felt my trachea thin, swollen and thumping. I couldn't breathe properly and I quickly felt my head light as I slumped onto the floor, dizzy and unable to move. I tried to breathe deeply and crawl my way towards Marco but I coughed instead. I still managed to reach Marco's bloodied figure and touch his pale face, -"Ma-"- I coughed again at the pain and knot in my throat.

My boyfriend placed his finger on my lips and hushed me, telling me not to speak, -"It's okay, Jean, it's… over…"- He gurgled and spat even more blood, thin trails dripping from his mouth and chin.

I shook my head, tears streaming from my eyes, it's not okay! You're… you're…

Marco smiled weakly, his eyes hollow and watery, -"I… I… love…"

-"W-wait…,"- I spoke, my voice hoarse, freaking out at the amount of blood around us which now tainted my hands. I had them on his torso as I shook him gently, -"… h-hold on…"- But my light head and body finally gave up and slumped onto Marco's bloodied torso, my eyes still streaming tears and soaking his already drenched clothes with blood.

Behind me, I heard someone yelling about a gunshot and calling the ambulance but I was near losing my consciousness, my vision rife with dark dots again. I felt several presences behind me calling my name but I couldn't even turn my head around to see who it was. My body wasn't responding anymore. I couldn't move or even try to, it was too heavy.

I didn't pay them anymore mind, though; I was in woe, crying over Marco's pale figure that gave off. He wasn't moving, his eyes were shut close and his skin was cold. I pule his name faintly while gripping his torso weakly. I was hoping he was unconscious as I lost sense of my surroundings, finally drifting to unconsciousness too –but not before murmuring into my boyfriend's ears: -"I'm… sorry…"

-"It was your assignment, Celine! They are here in this state because you got distracted and fooled!"- Someone was arguing pretty fucking loud near me. His voice was too familiar.

-"Hey, don't talk to her like that,"- Another man spoke and I found it familiar too, -"It wasn't her fault."

-"'It wasn't her fault'?"- The first man quoted with a mocking tone, -"You must be more dense than I thought."

-"Enough, you both!"- A woman spoke in distress, -"Yes, it was my fault! I was too confident and absentminded but now I have to focus or else they'll… they'll…"- The woman started to sob.

-"Celine, don't think that. It'll be alright, I promise…"

Celine? She found us? Who… are they talking about? Us? We'll… what? Die?

I was slowly and painfully waking up, struggling to even open my eyes. As I did, memories started to teem in my mind and causing a headache, like someone totally random crashing a party. Images flashed by and I saw blood, so much blood around me and in my hands. In a microsecond, I remembered whose: Marco's.

Only one goal persisted in my mind: know Marco's state. I remembered Frank shooting him, I remembered his pale face, the thin trail of blood dripping from his mouth, his hollow eyes and cold skin…

I began to stir on whatever I was on –something comfy, and I don't have to think where: I'm in a hospital, on a bed, half naked and in a horrible shape. I've experienced enough to know. Immediately, a horrible pain ran across my body but that didn't stop me, ol' stubborn and reckless Jeanbo. The worst was my neck though, it fucking hurts like a bitch, and I had something… something funny andannoying around it that prevented me from reaching it –and in addition to that, I felt something deep in my throat, something long. I cursed and groaned often at the pain and the lack of patience.

-"Oh no, he's waking up."

-"Hold him."

The people arguing before finally noticed my obvious attempt at getting out of here and pinned my arms down, -"Jean, calm down! You're going to hurt yourself!"

-"M… Marco…"- That's the only thing I managed to blurt from my mouth. I couldn't speak properly, my throat scorched whenever I tried to.

-"Step aside."- Spoke a man with authority –which I know who it was by now- and fucking stung my arm with something.

I winced and hissed, trying to wriggle out until I felt a massive drowsiness take over me. I managed to open my eyes midway from falling into slumber and I saw three hazy figures above me muttering something about me being impossible to fathom or control. I babbled Marco's name again before truly falling asleep.

I'm dreaming again.

Or better yet, nightmare-ing or whatever.

It was totally crazy and bizarre. There were two hazy silhouettes of me, one in red and the other one in blue. The red one, definitely manifesting anger, was torturing me about my inability to protect Marco like I should, reminding me of how weak I really am. Then there was the part of me that Marco slowly shaped, the one in blue manifesting reason, the one that said that I couldn't blame myself for what happened or for every time that Marco ends up wounded –and he sounded exactly like Marco. My mind was split in those two but the red one prevailed, shooting the blue one with a gun that suddenly appeared on his hand -it's like I was watching Marco getting shot again. Then, he walked towards me and possessed me, whispering Anger is Power before darkness shrouded me.

-"He's trying to get up again, damn it!"

-"Kirshtein, for the love of God, settle down!"

I was frantic with terror and anxiety due to the nightmare, desperate to get free from whatever held me back so I could see Marco. I needed to know how he was, I needed to know if he's okay, I just… I needed to know! But I can't voice out anything yet. My throat was scorching again. That weird sensation that something large was in my throat still lingered.

They knew I wanted to see Marco but they didn't let me, they didn't even tell me anything about him.

I kept wriggling under their grasp and more so when none other than Zackly was more than eager to skew me with a sedative again. I saw the needle sink in my skin and I felt the cold liquid sip into my vein. A minute later, drowsiness attempted to overwhelm me and I shook my head vigorously, trying to keep myself awake –and I did for the following five minutes which were enough to piss off the doctor, -"God, he is so stubborn! Celine, fetch him the boy for Christ's sake!"

Marco's mom just sighed. I couldn't see if she really did go because of the stupid, white thing around my neck. Fuck, I'm so sleepy and tired, my body wanted to lay down and drift to slumber, but I'm not succumbing to the sedative until I see Marco.

After long exhausted minutes of attempting to stay awake, the door slid open and I heard quick footsteps closing in to me -"M.. Mar…"- I coughed abruptly and above me, I saw Marco's tall and graceful figure bending to my resting body. He gazed at me tenderly and full of relief, resting his hands on my bed's hurdle.

-"Hey, Jean,"- He spoke, his voice soft and yet shaky. His face wasn't as pale as before but it still lacked color from his original hot as fuck skin. He also had bags under his eyes and I knew Marco hasn't been sleeping well either due to nightmares, -"I'm here, okay? And I'm alright."

I didn't believe him. With my weak and sluggish hand, I scraped the surface of his shirt with the tip of my fingers, right on the spot he was shot. I know it's there, the wound. I remember. Marco gasped silently, not really expecting me to. He sighed and slowly lifted his gown, exposing a thin, white fabric around his waist, covering his wound. The spot of the shot was a bit bloody, -"It's… okay, see?"

I shook my head and started digging through the fabric. I want to see it. I need to see it for myself.

-"Jean…,"- Marco murmured, wincing silently. I tugged the fabric until I could see the fresh, deep wound, like a hole. It was bad, really fucking bad. It was dark and deep reddish, dripping thin trails of blood. Marco was biting his lips while my heart sank in sorrow. I gaped my mouth once I slowly and carefully let go of the fabric, probably to cry like a baby until Marco hushed me, -"It'll get better, I promise, but I need you to stay calm, okay? Try not to speak or you'll hurt yourself. Please, for me?"- He pleaded, gripping my hand firmly.

I looked at our intertwined hands, spotting thin tubes transfixed in my hand's vein, and just nodded slowly and reluctantly. Fuck, I wanna cry and scream really bad. What else is there for us? Haven't we gone through enough? Can't this get any worse?

-"Jean, don't cry, please…"- Marco quickly spoke and washed the tears off my chins. He was saying something else but I couldn't understand him. The sedative was really hitting me with its effects. Then, someone approached Marco and told him something but my eyes were foggy and drowsy. I felt something soft, cold, and yet warm at the same time, touch my cheek. It was Marco's lips. He gave me a kiss before completely parting from the room. I murmured his name before getting knocked out by the injection.

I woke up a lot calmer the other day, or week or… I don't know. There were nurses tending me, adjusting the thing around my neck and the tubes on my hands. I was still kind of groggy but I could see them pacing around the room and speaking to themselves, -"His breathing stabilized. You can take off the ventilator now."

Immediately, I raised my hand to touch my mouth but I felt something there, something plastic and thick. The nurse gasped, surprised I woke up this early, and pulled my hand down gently, -"Calm down, Jean, it's going to be alright. It's only going to feel bothersome but it's not going to hurt."

I just nodded and babbled a muffled 'okay'.

Slowly, they tugged the thing out of my mouth and I felt the long tube heave out with a bothersome sensation. I saw it out and soaked with my saliva as I coughed incessantly. The nurses aided me and sat my body up, gently patting my back as I kept coughing, almost chocking to death, -"There, there,"- One of them hummed, as if taking care of a kid, -"Better?"

Once my wild coughing stabilized, I breathed deeply and nodded, swallowing my own crammed up saliva. My throat still felt funny, still swollen and it was bothersome to gulp or take hard intakes of breath. One of the nurses pushed me back on the bed, resting my head comfortably on the pillow, a perfect position to start wondering things, like where am I –in more detail- how much time have I been here, how was I doing and specially… how's Marco, -"How long has it been?"

The nurse tugging the needle out of my hand answered, -"You've been here for three weeks, unconscious."

I scratched my scalp, -"Holy shit,"- I murmured, wondering if Marco had been unconscious that long too –probably more considering the doctor had to take the bullet out, -"And where am I?"

-"In Trost's hospital, um… again."

I scoffed and became aware of a heart monitor's beeping as the nurse worked with it, -"How bad was I?"

-"Pretty bad, Jean. You weren't breathing when they brought you here and your neck was in a bad shape, really swollen and almost broken."- She said, trying not to pry about the cause. Someone told her not to.

I avoided that topic too and headed to the next one, -"How's Marco?"

The nurse stopped whatever she was doing and silently gazed at the other one, who slowly shook her head in respond. The nurse in question cleared her throat and turned to me, rather abnormally chirpy, -"Marco? Who's Marco?"

I quirked an eyebrow, not falling for her farce, -"Come on, tell me."

-"I… don't know who're you talking about, Jean."- She was looking at her coworker nervously.

I don't like this. Something's wrong, -"Stop acting like innocent girls,"- I spat, glaring at them both, -"Tell me. Now."

The nurse closer to me yelped, startled by my sudden behavior, -"He's in the emergency area in a pretty bad state but I'm sure we'll receive good news soon enough so don't panic, okay?"- She said, very fast, hoping I wouldn't understand her.

I got every word and yeah, I started to panic, -"But… he was fine when I saw him. What happened?"

-"Jean, we… can't say anything else. I'm so-"

-"Tell me! I have to know!"- I sat up and yelled, regretting it later when I started to cough nonstop afterwards, as if I got something stuck in my throat. God, am I going to puke out my guts now?

Timely, Celine stormed in, dismissing the nurses and sauntering towards me. She patted my back and stroked it, easing my sudden cough attack, -"You need to calm down, Jean, and avoid yelling or forcing your throat."

-"But… Marco…"- I spoke hoarsely.

Celine sighed, clearly under a lot of stress, -"He's in emergency under surgery. He has lost a lot of blood but the doctors are trying to close and clean the wound. It's… very deep."

I don't like that, I definitely don't like that, -"No…"

-"You can't see him yet but I promise as soon as you can, I will let you know,"- She added, pushing my body back on the bed, -"Just rest and relax. You're not doing yourself any good if you push your body."

But I couldn't relax knowing Marco wasn't okay and Celine knew. Tired and not eager to deal with me anymore, she pulled out a syringe from her robe and hovered near my wrist. Surprisingly, I didn't fight back and I honestly didn't mind the sedative anymore. I was tired and worn out and my body was too exhausted to comply my commands. That means my body is getting used to the sedative and that's not good. It means I'm getting addicted. See? I know my shit.

-"I'm sorry, Jean, but this is for your own good…"- She sounded like Zackly for a minute there and it was weird. She usually refrains from sedating her patients more than two times. I've been sedated three times… or was it four?

A few minutes passed of silently watching Celine observing me, waiting for me to pass out. She was immensely worried about us but she was mad, pissed. We disobeyed her. We went to school and got in this state when she prohibited us to. I knew she wanted to talk to me –well, to us; Marco's just as guilty- about that but I was glad she was waiting for us to recover. Otherwise, I won't take it well and I perfectly know how that's going to end.

She watched me until I fell asleep and I hoped that the next time I wake up, Marco will be beside me with his wound patched up.

Marco wasn't beside me the next time I woke up –which was one week later. I was before him… or well, waiting for him in front the door that leads to him, with Celine on my side because I can't be left alone. I might just do something, say like… breaking in the emergency room.

I was tapping my foot anxiously, eyes carved on the door, ready to charge into a run the second it opens. Then you can call me… Lighting McJean.

I'm so bored. You know you're really bored when you start trying to will something to open or close, or imagining the future, the happy scenario you want –well, that'd be if you're bored or… really anxious. This is not fun anymore, Jean.

Celine was moody.

I was sitting on those uncomfortable, odd chair all hospital has, and I kept shifting position, possibly pissing Celine more. It's so weird of her. She's really angry with us. We're going to have the scold of our lives once we recover.

The door swung open and doctor Zackly himself sauntered out while cleaning his hands with a white towel. I gasped and quickly stood up, trotting towards him with Celine behind me, -"How is he?"- I quickly asked, peeking over him to the slightly opened door. I saw a glimpse of Marco laid flat on large bed. There was a fuck load of surgery tools laying around, all soaked in Marco's blood wafting around. I couldn't see anything else, the door closed and I was left with Zackly, who was not surprised in the slightest to see me.

-"Of course it is you."- He said, still acting bitchy with me even after that kind moment we had a few months ago.

-"Yeah, me, and I wanna know how's Marco doing."- I said, just as bitchy.

Zackly sighed and adjusted his glasses, -"He is stable, for now. We have cleaned the injury thoroughly and hopefully, he will not contract an infection,"- He said and I gaped my mouth to speak, to ask if I could see Marco, but he didn't let me, -"No, Kirshtein, you cannot see him yet."

-"Ah, what? Why?"- This is getting tiresome.

-"Because I said so,"- He gestured something to Celine, -"Celine, take him to his room."

And without hesitation, she took me back to my room and it wasn't until sundown that I received the news that Marco was okay, that his wound was successfully patched up. They announced that he'll be up and walking within two days and I couldn't wait.

When those two days passed, Marco and I didn't have much time to talk. Celine had us both sitting on the bed looking straight at her like little kids –oh and Dad was there too. I honestly didn't like this but I didn't dare move a finger. We both knew what came next and Marco was shitting bricks. Like me, he thought it was unusual for his mom to be this angry –and he knows her better than I do! I guess we had it coming but if we told her, she would have done anything to stop us from going to school. She would've derailed us.

She had her arms crossed with staring at us to death while my father just stood beside her trying to look just as pissed, -"I thought I told you both to forget about the school,"- She started, really trying to contain her anger, to avoid letting it speak for her, -"I thought you understood."- She stared at me.

-"Huh? Me?"- I was confused. I pointed at myself.

-"Yes, you."

-"Wh-what do you mean?"

-"You told me you wouldn't return there and that you'd make sure Marco wouldn't either."- She spoke, rising her voice bit by bit.

Shit, she's right. At first, I was positive I wouldn't return there because I didn't want to and I even told Marco we wouldn't, never ever. Marco, at then, wanted to go to help our friends, but I prohibited him, just as Celine did to both of us and she trusted me. I practically betrayed her, -"Yeah, you're right, but we felt like we had to go. Our friends needed us. I'm sorry for lying to you but if we told you, we would never have gotten the opportunity."

Celine wasn't buying anything… not yet. I think she understand us but she's too distressed and shaken to credit us, -"You could have died! Marco had a severe blood loss and your neck was swollen, suffocating you!"

I scratched my rear neck and Marco just looked down. I think she said that before, when we ended up in this very same hospital after getting fucked in school. I don't remember well. Still, we could have really died there –it was Frank's goal in the first place.

Celine paced around, a hand on her chin while she looked for her next words. She didn't find them and I then realized she's not very good at this scolding thing. Instead, she lunged towards us into a warm embrace, -"But you're alive… you're both okay…,"- My dad joined the embrace and we stayed like that for what felt like an eternity until Celine parted and sighed -"Please… don't risk your lives like that anymore. I can't take it…"

Celine gaped her mouth to say something but just then, a nurse came rushing in and bent to take a breath, -"Miss Bodt… I have terrible news…"

Celine's turned her attention to the nurse, -"What is it?"

-"It's about that other boy. Frank."- She spoke, very slowly, like she didn't want to say any of that.

My brows furrowed at the mention of his name. I hadn't thought about him all this time because I didn't care in the first place.

-"What about him?"- Celine knew he was the one that got us like this and I knew she planned to demand –who wouldn't? He shot her son. She actually hadn't told me but I overheard her when she spoke about it to Dad. She had to be careful, though. Frank's father is a wealthy and influential man.

-"He's…,"- The nurse paused and gulped, -"… dead."