Clearing

Chapter 22

The first thing I noticed was a bed underneath me and someone sat nearby, head resting on the end of my bed. The second thing was that my throat was dryer than the fucking desert as I peeled my eyes open, blinking confusedly at the ceiling.

Everything that had sent me here was a little foggy in my mind, although I could remember the general events of what happened. Titan, wall, glass, blood. Lots of blood.

I groaned and shifted a little, and the figure at the end of my bed lifted their head.

"You're awake!" His blond hair was dishevelled and strewn over his face, but he looked so relived he could cry, his blue eyes shining. "How do you feel? Do you need anything?"

"Water." I rasped, and he handed me a cup. I slowly shuffled upright, grimacing at the still-sharp pain, gulped the thing down in seconds and reached out again.

"Whoa, slow down." Armin laughed quietly. "You don't want to make yourself sick."

I pouted, still holding the cup out. "But I'm thirsty."

"I'm not surprised, you were out for a long time." Armin nodded gravely. "Five days. We've all been worried sick."

As if on cue, the door opened.

"Hey Armin, I got you some bread since you've been here for a-" Mikasa stopped in the doorframe, dropping the bread. "Oh my god, you're awake?" She cried, running over to my bed and wrapping her arms around my neck. I winced, my side and my ribs still stinging horribly.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry." Mikasa retracted her arms. "I forgot that you have the cuts."

"Plural?" I choked, nervous about the implications.

I pushed the covers down a little and pulled up my shirt to look at the state of my skin. The left side of my body was littered with cuts, and at least 30 stitches in total. I was certain that a lot of them would scar. Sure, my skin had never been perfect, but I would still mourn the relative softness in comparison to the jagged scars that now ravaged my torso.

I didn't even have time to open my mouth before she was poking her head out of the door, screaming at ear-shattering volumes.

"She's awake!" She yelled, and I winced once again. The shout was only followed by more noise, only this time it was running footsteps.

"Do you need anything?" Mikasa unknowingly repeated Armin's questioning, grasping my hand. "We should get you some food, you must be hungry."

I nodded in agreement, and was quickly given some bread and soup (not the bread Mikasa had dropped on the floor, she had thrown that out of the window for the birds) along with more water.

My lunch was heavily delayed by the entrance of Connie, Sasha and Eren, who all flung themselves towards me with equal levels of wild energy and intense concern. It took a good twenty minutes of nattering before I finally got to eat my now-cold soup.

Halfway through I paused, dread filling my stomach instead of the food.

Armin and Mikasa noticed my discomfort, pausing in their idle conversation to look over at me. He called my name, concern written on his face.

I swallowed, setting down the bread. "Marco." I stated, already dreading the answer. "What... what happened? Where is he?"

A thick silence fell across the room, and my stomach turned heavy, as though I had swallowed leaden pills. Nobody would make eye contact with me, Connie and Sasha scuffing their shoes on the floor, Mikasa and Armin picking at their nail beds.

"Guys?"

I struggled to speak past the lump lodged in my throat. "Please, will somebody tell me what's happening?"

"Ah." Armin started. "You remember what happened before you passed out?"

I nodded.

"I tried to get him away." Armin hung his head, tears prickling his eyes. "I swear I tried, but it was too fast. Everything happened so quickly, and it was so strong, and then he-"

"Armin, shh, shh." Mikasa wrapped her arms over his shoulders, Eren resting his hand atop Armin's. "We all know that it wasn't your fault, ok? There wasn't anything you could have done."

I stared at my hands, the new scars that graffitied my fingertips, my knuckles, my palms, each of them reminders of my newest and greatest failure.  The food threatened to bubble up and out of my throat, acid rising into my mouth.

He was dead.

Marco was dead, and I had been unable to stop it.

No. The voice in my head hissed at me. You had been perfectly able to stop him. It was your own incompetence that made you incapable. You could have stopped all of this.

Stop it. I pleaded back. Please. I can't do this.

"And... where is Jean?" I asked.

"You might want to let him be for a while." Connie offered. "You know how close the two of them have always been. It's hitting him harder than any of us."

"But, he's ok?"

Connie's teary eyes shifted to form a knowing grin before he nodded, putting a hand on my shoulder. "He's ok."

Despite knowing the suffering that he would be going through, I couldn't help the sigh of relief that almost slipped out of my mouth, my shoulders relaxing.

Once again, my gaze slipped towards my scarred hands, the new cut spanning my palm, a failed promise to protect one of the first people who had managed to make me feel at home in this place.

Armin reached out and grasped my hand, his own rough palm covering mine as he knelt next to my bed. I looked up to him, the tears brimming his eyes mirroring mine. I couldn't stop my lip from wobbling even as I tried to plaster on a smile.

A tear slipped down my face and Armin pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arm tightly around me and tucking his face into my shoulder, his hand still covering my palm. Mikasa folded over him, resting on his back, and the others joined one by one until we were all piled up on the uncomfortable hospital bed, limbs tangled together, and we stayed together in silence until we all slowly drifted to sleep.

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Well that break was slightly longer than I had anticipated....
Sorry guys lmao