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Reiner gripped the sink edge, fingers numb and face dripping cold water onto his collar. He inhaled, tense and short through his nose, holding it in till his lungs ached and blowing out a loud exhale. His eyes fluttered open and he stared into the mirror. Sick. You look sick. That’s what his dad had told him. He was sick. And that was the kicker, wasn’t it? And he still was. Two weeks later and he was still sick. He wasn’t going to recover, not from this. Reiner closed his eyes again and breathed, leaning back and gritting his teeth. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. A tingling started high in his nose and he turned on the tap and splashed his face until it left.
He dried his hands and face on a hand towel and tried to face himself again. Hair greasy, skin pale, dark circles under his eyes, and a scruff he normally shaved. There was no point to shave now. He left the bathroom, slamming the light switch. A touch to the hair, wipe to his nose, roll his shoulders and adjust his jacket, and Reiner walked down the stairs of his childhood home. He could hear voices down in the kitchen, and he swung himself around the banister towards them. The voices, his mother and his sister Gabi, sat at the kitchen island, stopped as soon as he entered. Looked him up and down, concerned. Always concerned now. Reiner gave them a tight smile, he couldn’t offer much more when he felt shredded apart and stapled together.
“Hey,” his mother’s voice was calm, placating, worried. “Feeling any better?” Of course, he hadn’t said anything when he returned, just thrown himself into his mother’s lap and cried. He cried himself hoarse, until his eyes had run out of tears and his face felt raw from the texture of her dress. Reiner dipped his head in a small nod and swallowed, gaze dropping. He didn’t want to look her in the eye now, not after everything, not after today and not after—not after that . He threw a thumb over his shoulder.
“I um, I’m gonna go.” His voice was rough, but he didn’t want to drink anything. A rough voice was the least of his worries. “I just—I need to go talk to some of my friends…” It was a lame excuse, a childish reason to bail, but he couldn’t be here. He couldn’t stay in the same room as his mother, couldn’t tell her he only came home because he couldn’t stand himself and he wanted his Mom. A ball of shame burned and rolled in his stomach, turning his ears red, but he couldn’t be here.
“Are you sure? You just got in?” If anything, she sounded more worried now. Reiner stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets when they started to tremble.
“Yeah, yeah I uh, I have some stuff I have to take care of, I just…” I just needed my mom. He raised his eyes and his mom gave him an understanding smile. She stood, circling the kitchen island to pull him down into a gentle hug. She held him like he was paper-mâché, and he was sure if she held any tighter she’d get papercuts.
“Okay, but come home for dinner, don’t stay out all night.” She murmured against his shoulder and Reiner nodded.
“Of course, Mom.” She released him, patting him on the arm, and Reiner hurried out the door before he could collapse again.
Reiner climbed into his truck and slammed the door. It was quiet inside. He dropped his head onto the steering wheel. In….and out….. His stomach was tying itself into knots. He needed to do something, he needed to talk to someone, he needed to cry again. No more crying, he couldn’t do that again. Too fragile. He fished his phone out of his pocket, not lifting his forehead from the steering wheel as he unlocked it and found three missed calls. Two from Porco, one from Jean and a series of texts. He sighed, pressing call on Porco and held the phone to his ear as it rang. It only rang twice before he picked up.
“Dude! I’ve been trying to call you, what the hell is going on?”
Reiner winced at his yell but didn’t move the phone away.
“I’m sorry–”
“I mean seriously, what the fuck is happening? Marcel has been blowing up my phone all day, what the fuck dude!”
Reiner’s stomach dropped. He wet his lips. “Listen, can I talk to you?”
“We’re talking right now!”
“Yeah, yeah, I meant like in person.” Porco sighed over the line.
“Yeah. Come over to my place.”
Reiner cut him off before he could continue. “Yeah, great, I’ll be there in a few.” He hung up the phone and dropped his arm, the phone slipping from his fingers and falling between the seat and the console. He didn’t care, he could get it later. Reiner sat back and knocked his head back against the headrest, sighing and dragging his hands down his face. Porco already knew. Porco was already pissed at him. Fuck. He just buckled his seatbelt and started his truck.
A tense and quiet fifteen minutes passed before Reiner pulled into Porco’s apartment complex, scanning for a free spot. Out of the corner of his eye he saw him, standing in front of his building, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. That’s fine, Reiner didn’t want to be here a long time anyways. His stomach twisted, sick like he was waiting in line for a roller coaster. He got out and stomped across the asphalt, eyes low. Porco was wearing slides, and joggers and when Reiner dragged his eyes up his friend he noticed the black hoodie he wore to the gym. He must have just gotten home and Reiner bit down on an apology.
“Dude.” A hand flew out from his chest, angry and accenting his words. “What the fuck is going on? Marcel said Bert’s been crying all day. Did you tell him?”
Reiner’s chest seized. “I broke up with him.” Porco’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. His arms fell away from his chest.
“What?” Reiner nodded, looking away. His heart squeezed and he blinked fast. Apparently his body was ready to cry again, a hot lump pressing itself high in his throat and his nose stinging. He swallowed hard and forced air between his teeth. Porco blinked at him before his eyes hardened and his face twisted back up. His fists tightened at his sides and Reiner glanced between them and his face, waiting for his friend to punch him.
Porco just shook his head, looking away, looking back at Reiner, and dropping his head. He sighed deep and wiped his hands down his face. “Why?”
The question took him off guard. Porco was a hit first, ask questions later type of person, Reiner fully expected him to sock him in the jaw for this. Instead he kept his eyes on the ground, still shaking his head. He looked tired. A stab of guilt pushed up through Reiner’s ribs and he frowned, maybe he shouldn’t have told him. It was obviously weighing on him, Reiner never should have told him. He frowned down at his own shoes. But he needed someone to talk to, someone that wasn’t his parents, who could barely speak around their tears. Porco hadn’t cried, only locked his jaw and nodded.
God, Reiner was a shitty friend.
Porco curled his hands back into fists and glared up at him with a fire in his eyes. “Why?” He demanded. “Why would you break up with him, now of all times–”
“He doesn’t know.” Reiner could barely get the words out, but Porco’s face flashed between disbelief, anger, grief, and back to anger.
“He doesn’t know? ” His voice was incredulous, edging on hysterical and Reiner took a half step back. “He doesn’t know, you didn’t fucking tell him?”
Reiner just shook his head and swallowed. “I haven’t told anyone, except you. And my family.” Porco threw his hands up and he flinched back, but he just ran his hands through his hair and stepped away, breathing hard. Reiner watched him with wide eyes, like tracking a wild animal. He breathed deep and hard, exhaling through clenched teeth and pacing slowly back and forth. He turned suddenly to jab Reiner in the chest with one finger.
“You’re a real fucking piece of work, Braun.” Reiner couldn’t take this, it was all too much. His stomach hadn’t stopped twisting and knotting all day and he felt like he might throw up. Again . This was all too much. He never should have told Porco, but he was here and he knew and his head was spinning and he hurt so fucking much and he was so disgusted with himself and he couldn’t stop himself.
“I’m not going to tell him and neither are you. It’ll be easier if he thinks I just dumped him.” Porco froze his idle wandering, turning slow on the spot. He looked furious, angrier than Reiner had ever seen him, a low simmering heat in his eyes unlike the blaze that took over him when he got in fights.
“You don’t get to tell me what I will and won’t do.” His eyes flashed and Reiner stepped forward, reaching for his arm.
“Don’t you dare tell him.” Porco pulled his arm away, glaring up at him.
“Don’t fucking touch me Braun.” Reiner stopped and balled his fists at his sides. A pain tugged and tore at his heart, catching his breath and making his vision swim, that Reiner recognized after a moment was panic .
“Don’t tell him. Please.” His words were strangled and he forced himself to breathe and blink away the rising tears.
“What do you think is going to happen when you’re gone?!” Porco was still angry, huffing like a bull and glaring at Reiner. “You think everyone’s just gonna forget about you? Pretend like we were never friends with you to begin with? He’s going to find out, whether you tell him or not.”
Porco frowned, nose twitching and he sniffed hard, wiping his dry face. His shoulders slumped and he looked anywhere but at him. He flung his arms out and dropped them, slapping against his sides. “What are you doing here, man? I mean seriously, what’s the plan here?”
Reiner sighed. “People move on from breakups.” He was exhausted. All week, this day, this moment, pulling at him, dragging him down, consuming every waking thought. He couldn’t even look Porco in the eye. “He wouldn’t move on……from this. From me.” He couldn’t even say it out loud. Porco shook his head, looking at the ground.
“So what, you’re just going to dump him and hope by the time you’re dead he would have moved on?”
He tried to speak, but his jaw trembled and nothing came out. He cleared his throat, settled himself and tried again. “Yeah, pretty much.” Tears blurred his vision and Reiner let them break and drip down his face, sniffling but not wiping them away.
Now, Porco just sounded tired. “He’s not gonna move on, man.” Reiner sniffled and frowned hard against the shaking air trying to force him to sob. Porco didn’t stop. “You think he’s going to move on from you? He’s not, do you know anything about him?” He sighed. His voice was more gentle, a lot more quiet. “He’s not going to move on man, none of us are.”
Reiner swiped at his face, rubbing the tears into his skin and wiping the snot on the sleeve of his jacket. He couldn’t do this, not now, not ever. Breaking up with Bertholdt this morning had torn him apart, he was open and raw and Porco, his one constant, the one person he could count on to never break, to never falter, was blinking away tears in front of him.
Porco swiped at his face and took in a shaky breath, holding his face. He glanced up at Reiner. “If you didn’t have cancer, I’d beat your ass right here in this parking lot.” His words were wobbly and wet and Reiner shook his head, ashamed.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.
Porco sniffled and wrapped his arms around himself. He pressed a knuckle against his nose, sniffling, and wrapped it around himself again. “How-how long-” He cleared his throat. “How long do you got?”
Reiner closed his eyes, breathing through the crushing weight of guilt, of grief . “About a month.” He sniffed. “A little more, a little less. They said I wouldn’t make it to Christmas.” His chest ached, a gasping gaping wound. Fresh tears pushed themselves out of his eyes.
Porco sniffled, and Reiner opened his eyes to look at his friend. He wasn’t shaking, but one hand was curled around his ribs and the other was pressed against his mouth, eyes distant and breathing measured. His eyes were wide, and Reiner watched them fill with tears and spill down his face. He blinked a few times and looked up at Reiner. “You have to tell them.” his voice trembled. “I can’t–I can’t do this man, you can’t do this to me.” Reiner frowned, lips quivering.
“I–I can’t.”
“ Please , man.”
Reiner pressed a hand against his mouth as he gasped, abrupt and violent. “I’m not strong enough.” He leaned over, clutching his stomach and his mouth as he tried in vain to choke down his sobs. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t strong enough, he couldn’t face them. He couldn’t watch them cry for him, he couldn’t do it. Strong arms wrapped themselves around his middle, his head pushed back by Porco hugging him in a crushing embrace, strong enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. He buried his face in Reiner’s chest, breath heaving.
“Damn you.” He swore, muffled. He pulled back to sniff and lay his head to the side. “Damn you, Braun.”
Reiner wound his arms around Porco’s shoulders and held him close, tears still flowing. “I’m sorry.” He choked out. “I’m really sorry.” Porco tightened his grip.
“I hate you.” He swore and Reiner sobbed, curling over to rest his head on his friend’s head.
“I’m sorry.”