⚠️Detailed gore warning⚠️
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I had a stronger stomach than I had realised.

It hadn't occurred to me just how much a human body could be broken down until I began to scoop up minced wads of flesh. Strewn down the streets, across the walls, dangling from ledges. Soldiers and civilians alike were merged together in unidentifiable clumps.

Shit...Levi says I'm messy...

I lost count of how many body parts I accidentally stepped on whilst making my way down the narrow streets, and I quickly numbed myself to the nasty crunch or squelch that was partnered with it. I was in a cleaning crew with Jean and Reiner, who were a little ways behind me, trying their best not to be sick as well. The medical masks did nothing to mask the reek of decay, as we were now on day two. The sun was beating down on us as we scraped and hauled, and I had no idea just how many corpses we had completely salvaged.

"Now I get why Petra and Eld told me I should've sat this out..." I muttered to myself, starting over towards a limbless mound I saw hunched over itself by the old tavern. My steps slowed as I got closer, and my mouth turned dry when I realised exactly who i had stumbled upon. "W..Wilbur..?"

There was no doubt in my mind that it was him. With wide, empty eyes, his head was lolled forward, and his mouth was gaping and filled with flies. Part of me wanted to scream once I came to a stop by the edge of the bloody pool surrounding him, but the other half felt completely unphased by the sight.

Reiner wouldn't have..? No..No, never. He got himself caught once...it just happened again...

"Do you recognise this solider, miss?" I snapped my head around when a young woman approached me. She freed a few strands of platinum blonde from beneath the frames of her glasses and pointed her pencil to my brother's remains. "I thought he looked a little familiar, but I can't seem to place him."

Swallowing my shock, I looked back into those dead, drying blue eyes and toyed with the tip of my tongue between my teeth for a few moments.
"Nope. Never seen the unlucky fucker in my life..."

Now you can be just like Dimitri...Rotting in an unmarked grave...

"Shame...Another family who'll just sit and suffer..." The woman frowned, meeting my eyes from behind foggy lenses. "I admire your skill, by the way. I saw you out there...We Garrison soldiers owe a great deal to you Scouts, and the cadets. You have my gratitude."
"Oh...uh, thanks. You guys did really well, too. I'm...um...sorry for all of your casualties...uh..?" I couldn't put a name to her face, and she quickly tucked her clipboard beneath her arm, extending her hand to me.

"Rico Brzenska. And you are..?" I stared at her hand for a moment before lifting my own, showing her that it was covered in less than pleasant fluid and gunk.
"(Y/N) (L/N). I'd shake your hand, but...yeah..." She laughed dryly, realising that it probably wasn't a good idea, before she hummed in thought.
"(L/N)...Huh, you wouldn't happen to be a relative of district commander (L/N), would you?"

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

Sweating, I shook my head frantically, likely startling the poor woman, who looked like she'd seen better days.
"N..nope! Uh, I've heard of him, though? Didn't he...um, die in the first wall breach..?" I questioned in a panic.
"Oh, yes, DC (L/N) senior fell in the Shiganshina tragedy. I'm talking about his son, Nicholas (L/N)." She explained, and I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to suppress a barrage of upchuck.

Nicho...

"Well, what a coincidence having the same name, huh? A..anyway, I better get back to work...I'm, uh, sorry for your losses, Rico." I gave her a brief wave and rushed past her, clutching my shovel tightly in my hot little hands. After the whole Wilbur incident, then finding his butchered body, I definitely wasn't prepared to deal with Nicholas as well. I could still see those teal green eyes staring down at us as he dangled us over the edge.

Shut it out, (Y/N)...You've got other things to deal with...

I realised I had rushed around the corner, past several bodies that I needed to check and collect, so I nodded to myself as a bit of a push before I turned back and resumed my stomach turning job. Others seemed to have gathered around many of the bodies, but there was one sitting all alone, hiding within the shadows cast by the lowering sun. As I got closer, I realised the cause of death was facing me, raw and hideous.

"Oh, god, you poor fucker..." I muttered as I scrunched my nose. The poor soldier had suffered a mighty bite to their right side, losing half of their head and their right arm. The stench was nauseating, and I had to cover my nose and mouth with the crook of my elbow to ward it off. I walked around to the front, preparing to do the dirty work and lug it to one of the many body carts. "Come on, then, buddy...Let's get you on the..the c..ca..."

I seemed to crumble along with the city of Trost as the soldier's identity struck me slowly. Dark, undercut hair that was matted and messed. The eye, which had once been the rich colour of honey, now sat sunken in a halved skull, and the light freckles that had once dappled rosy cheeks were now like dark, bleeding pin pricks against stark white skin.

You..you...But...you...

"M..Marco...Y..you promised..." I doubt my voice actually made it out of my throat. "C..come on...Stop screwing around...G..get up..!" It was then that I noticed the now-stained grey material tied tightly around his wait, partially overlapping his uniform sash.

It was the material belt I had left with him, along with my other clothing.

My tears were building up, but they just couldn't seem to burst through the dam I had built. It was like I was drowning from the inside out, and my mouth was filled with dry, scratchy wads of cotton. I couldn't move, no matter how much I wanted to. It was the same, crushing feeling that I had experienced when laying beneath the corpse of my deceased brother all those years ago.

"Oi, quit standing around and pull your weight, (Y/N). I know it's a shitty job, but the last thing we need is a plague..." Jean's voice slipped past the deafening ringing in my ears, and that's when I was able to move. Spinning around, I grabbed hold of his arms and tried to push him away, or turn him around; anything, to stop him seeing what I had discovered.

"D..don't...You can't...Don't lo..look..!" Again, I doubted that was what was actually coming out of my mouth. It was likely just a frantic series of squeaks and wheezes, causing my throat to burn and crackle. He didn't need to see it. It was the last thing either of us needed to see, but I just couldn't seem to get that urgent point across. Jean easily squirmed out of my pitiful grasp and glared at me in mild concern.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Don't look at...wh..wha..."

I felt each one of his muscles react slowly; one by one, as they registered what he could see behind me as I weakly battered at his chest, head hung low and unable to force myself to see his face as he realised exactly why I was trying to stop him.

"M..Marco..? Is...that you..?" His whisper stung as he slowly walked around me. It was as though he was expecting the mutilated corpse to answer him, as if it was just one sick joke. I just stood there, behind Jean and the decomposing vessel of my closest friend, staring at the stained dirt beneath our feet.

If I had only gotten back sooner...If I hadn't left at all...I could have stopped this...I could have saved Marco...He wouldn't have been...

My body began to shake violently. That dam burst in a hot rush of tears and screaming as I fell to my knees, ripping at my (H/C) hair until the pain in my scalp was on par with the pain in my chest. I felt hands on me; two pairs, trying to snap me out of it. Trying to pull me in to stifle my outburst.

Regressing back into the state of that scared, anguished little girl I used to be, I struggled against them, refusing their softened words and attempted calming touches.
"Leave her to me. Get back to work, Cadets." I heard a familiar voice through the shrill, plangent pitch in my head, and those hands were gone.

"Y..yes, sir..." That was Reiner.

"L..look after her..." Jean, I assumed.

A new pair of hands found me, now, but they were much more gentle than the others. Hoisting me to my feet and supporting almost the entirety of my weight, whoever had taken me into their care led me away, and into one of the lesser damaged buildings, sitting me down at the kitchen table and crouching down in front of me.

"That was the boy who saw you off the other day, wasn't it, kid?" Oluo sighed, trying to urge me to make some form of eye contact. Refusing, I just nodded once, still rattling in feverish shock. "Ah, shit...I'm sorry..." Carefully, he reached up and pulled the cotton mask away from my face, tossing it to the side before proceeding to strip off the elbow-length gloves.

If...I had just...been here...

"No more of this for you, alright? I'm gonna take you back to the barracks. Pet can get you cleaned up, and then you gotta rest. You haven't had a chance to yet, huh?" Oluo was acting differently than usual. It was almost fatherly, to a degree, and I finally forced myself to look up. When he met my bloodshot (E/C), he softened even more, letting the pity show on his older looking face.

"Wh..why did we have to t..take so long, Luo..?" My tears bubbled over again, and he pulled me into a comforting, yet slightly stiff embrace.
"Nobody knew this was going to happen, kid...If we had, then we wouldn't have taken you away from them...We would have been ready for it..." He sighed, trying in vain to think of a way to put me at ease. "I know I can't really say anything to make it better, but I know how you feel. I reacted the same way when I first lost someone I cared about..."

First...Yeah, that's right...This fucking world just picks us off...one by one...Promises don't mean shit...Not when you have no control over it...

"Come on...I'll take you back to the barracks..."

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My voice was lost. I had screamed and sobbed until it was nothing but a crackling rasp, and now I was motionless and aching all over, inside and out.

I hadn't gone to the cremation. The mere thought of the damned being torched and reduced to a mixed scatter of ashes and bone made me sick to my stomach. Instead, I opted for hiding out and mourning in a safe place.

Marco's pillow still smelled strongly of his scent. A warm, rich musk that suddenly made me feel so damn cold. I wasn't sure how I had managed to get there from my own room, but I wasn't intending on leaving until I could somewhat wrap my head around the reality of it all.

Toying with the bracelet he had given me before I rode away from him for the final time, I glanced up when I heard the door open. Jean entered, sparing me a brief, pained look before closing it behind him and making his way over to his bed. He looked completely destroyed, flopping down onto his stomach, the clink of his still fastened belts being the only sound to rise in the room.

Part of me wondered if I should leave, to give him space to grieve without feeling like I would judge him, but the other half of me knew he didn't mind my presence. He would have said so if he did. The silence didn't cause either of us any discomfort, and we stayed like that for the longest time, trying to let everything sink in.

"I'm...joining the Scouts..." Jean broke that silence with a slightly muffled voice, after turning his head so his mouth was freed from his calico sheets. Flinching, I curled in on myself further, pressing my nose against my late friend's pillow. "He...once told me that I knew what it was like to be weak...and that's what...made me a good leader...That I was just like everybody else, and it made me sympathetic...because...I'm scared..."

Please...

"I...never thanked him for saying that, ya know..? I never once got off my fucking high horse to tell him...that he made a better leader than I could ever hope to b..be..."

Jean, please...

"D..don't..." I knew my voice made it out that time, as the man on the bed across the room sat himself up to look over at me, still curled in a ball. "...P..please, Jean...D..don't..." I didn't want a single one of them to become scouts. It was terrifying just thinking about it; the possibility that I could lose all of them in one single moment, and it made me want to be sick.

"S..sorry...but that's my decision..." Jean murmured, sitting all the way up and watching me with dull, puffy eyes. "Can't promise I'll make it too far...b..but...I already made up my mind..."

At least you're smart enough not to make an empty promise...

As he took off his boots and loosened his straps, I pulled my face from Marco's pillow, resting my chin on the offwhite plush.
"Wh..what did he rank..?" I asked in an offkey whisper, and Jean lifted his head with a solemn look on his face.
"Seventh..."

He could have been safe...In the interior...

"A..and you..?" I hoped that he hadn't been within the top ten, but I knew that was idiotic. Jean was talented, and there was no way he could have been overlooked by Shadis.
"Sixth..." He replied in short, running a hand through his disheveled copper. "...Which means it's my choice..." There was no changing his mind, and I could see that. Despite hating his decision, I couldn't fight him on it. He was as stubborn as they came.

"I see..." I murmured, eyeing the door before I looked down into the pillow. "...Do...you want me to le-"
"Sh..shut up...You know h..he would have chewed me out if I asked you to leave..." He cut me off, trying to keep himself together. I felt my tears begin again, even though I swore I shouldn't have any left to fall.
"Y..yeah...He w..would have..."

I choked out a sob, shrinking down when I heard the future scout stand from his bed, making his way over to my; Marco's, side. His hand came down upon my head, and I could feel his entire arm shake.
"I guess...this is the one thing we have in common, huh..?" He swallowed, sitting down beside me and pulling me to lean against his shoulder. "...We both loved him like a brother..."

I don't know how long I cried for after that, but Jean just let me get it all out. Even though I hadn't looked at him once, I could tell he had as well. Now, we were laying back to back in Marco's bed, sharing the pillow that still smelled so strongly of him. The copperette had passed out from sheer exhaustion, and I just stared at the wall, running my fingertips along the curve of the laced leather luck that clung to my wrist.

I guess...I better get used to this feeling...

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***FOR THE LOVE OF FRECKLED JESUS PLEASE DON'T GO OFF AT ME FOR THIS!
Okay, for the record, I love Marco, and I had to take breaks from this chapter all day because I'm a weak little bitch and kept on crying. I want to stick to canon as much as possible when it comes to both events and character deaths. Marco's death was what pushed Jean to become a scout, and the fact that he chose that path pushed Connie (yes I spell his name wrong don't @ me) to join, as well. Choosing to stick to this death wasn't to make anyone hurt or cry, or anything like I usually do to make people suffer through angst. I just want to stick to canon whilst adding my own bits and bobs to make it a new story.

I am honestly really sorry about having to do this.

Rest in Piece, Marco Bodt.***

***Also I revamped the family OC designs. I'll add the mother and sister later on, cuz I'm a sad, lazy prick***