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Everything’s broken. Walls are crumbling wherever I look and the cold from the outside world seeps in through the cracks, tainted with the smell of death that the titans bring wherever they go. The shattered faces of my comrades, friends, familiar faces I’ll probably never see again, all stare back at me as I falter onwards through the destroyed streets of Trost.
I wince every time a speck of blood appears on the cobbled floors and dare not look where the trail leads, in fear that a face I know won’t be too far away, pressed down into the stone, lifeless and cold. Houses, once standing tall and proud are empty, abandoned, only housing the remnants of the fear that was left behind when the titans crashed through the wall.
My gear weighs heavy on my hips and yet I still limp onwards, searching down every street to find the one face I’m looking for. People stagger either side of me looking for shelter away from the ruins of their homes whilst I glance at the piles of rubble with panicked breath.
Marco’s been missing since I ordered him to defend Eren so he could reach the wall. No one’s seen him since.
At every flash of a beige, cropped jacket I see, my heart races a little, hoping it’s him, only to be set back when a familiar, but not comforting face confronts me. And each time I ask, “Where’s Marco?” I only get a shaking head in return. So I keep looking.
Too heavy to keep me upright, I undo the buckles keeping my gear to my waist and let the metal clang onto the floor as it falls. My legs instantly feel lighter without the strain of the gear and I begin to move faster, heading down the streets of my hometown, not only searching for Marco, but for anyone who could help me.
Piles of bodies begin to form around me as I run, breathing in the smell of death which only grows stronger the further I push into the mangled streets.
And then I stop. Light beams from a corner and almost blinds me. “You’re not strong, Jean,” a voice whispers. “But you can relate to how the weak feel.”
“Marco?”
I run towards the light, calling out his name as he speaks to me, telling me the same words he told me when I thought this was all over.
“You can size up any situation so you know what’s to be done.”
It was those same words that gave me the motivation to fight to stay alive and now, as I run into the light and see him lying on the floor, bloody, cold –
----
“Jean!”
I wake with a start, sweat beading on my forehead and my heart pounding in my chest. The cold of winter shakes my bones and I blink, taking in my surrounding light.
Marco leans over me with a smile, wrapped up in a knitted blue scarf from his mother and matching mittens. He pats my cheek with a wool-clad hand and laughs. “You scared me for a minute there.”
So did you, I breathe internally.
Heaving myself up from the warmth of my blanket, I remind myself of where I am. Instantly regretting my decision to shed myself of my covers, I wrap them around myself like a cloak and gaze drearily at Marco as he continues to stare at me like the sun shines out of my ass.
We’re not in Trost anymore. That was a long time ago now. Years, even. Now we’re lost somewhere in the outside world, headed in the direction that Armin believes will lead us to the ocean. But with all this snow in our way, it looks like we may be delayed.
Marco nudges me over a bit so he can share my covers and rubs my hands together with his own, slighter warmer ones. “That’s not fair,” I grumble. “You’ve got a scarf.” He replies by sighing and unwinding the wool around his neck, only to wrap it around the both of us.
“Another nightmare?” he asks.
I nod. “How’d you know?”
He rests his head on my shoulder, breathing his warm breath into the crook of my neck. “You fidget when you have nightmares,” he sighs. “You stole all the covers last night so I had to find a spare blanket.”
“Sorry,” I mumble into his cheek as I place a kiss there. “It was a pretty bad one.”
“I understand,” he smiles.
Just then, Eren storms into the barn, flinging open the large wooden doors and letting out what little warmth was left in here. “It’s Christmas in three days!” he booms over a chorus of confused groans and murmurs.
“The fuck is Christmas?” I grouse, shuffling closer to Marco for warmth.
Armin comes stumbling in after Eren with Mikasa at his side, holding the large book he found a few days ago whilst inspecting an abandoned house near the wall. He scans the pages with large, excited eyes and beams at every word written.
Sasha perks up behind me, her blanket wrapped around her in a similar fashion to mine and sniffs. “What’s Christmas?”
I almost wish she hadn’t asked as Eren’s eyes light up and he points dramatically to Armin’s book. “It’s a day that people in the outside world used to celebrate until the titans came,” he grins.
“That’s great, Eren,” I sigh, more interested in my bed than whatever he’s rambling on about. It’s his fault we’re in the middle of nowhere and separated from the others anyway. If he’d just listened to Levi’s orders whilst we were in that blizzard…
“So by the looks of what’s written here,” Armin grins, “Christmas is a time for being with your family and loved ones and you have a large feast and give one another presents.”
“Most of us are orphans, Ar,” Connie mumbles from underneath a blanket. “How’s being with family supposed to work?”
A little disheartened, realising that his own family aren’t around anymore, Armin’s face drops and he clenches his book tightly, taking a step forwards into the warmth of the barn. “The three of us thought that we could all celebrate Christmas together,” he says with caution. “We’ve all been through so much -“ he looks to Marco when he says that, remembering how we almost lost him in Trost –“maybe it’s time we reflect on where we’d be now if we didn’t have each other.”
Silence fills the space for a while, each of us contemplating how this could even work, where this ‘Christmas’ even came from and how Eren even came up with the idea to celebrate it. Despite all of us not really being together since we got separated from Levi and the others just after we crossed the wall, the idea of actually celebrating in a time when I’m too cold to even speak almost seems… decent.
Eren looks to us with great anticipation and grins as he waits for someone to agree to yet another of his radical ideas with hardly any explanation.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Marco smiles. “I think we could all really use a pick-me-up.”
Eren beams and starts reading something out of Armin’s book… something about ‘Santa Claus’, I think. But that’s what he starts calling himself and starts to tell everyone who we’re getting a gift for.
“I want to get a gift for Eren,” Mikasa says. Knowing not to argue with her, Eren agrees.
Connie and Sasha get each other. Marco gets me. Armin gets Mikasa. And Eren says he’ll “fulfil his Santa Claus duty” by getting gifts for both Mikasa and Armin.
Lucky me, I get Marco and I know exactly what he likes.
----
“Connie, what the hell am I going to get Marco for Christmas?”
“Uh…”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold and I have two days to get him something he’ll actually like.”
Connie, unhelpfully, shrugs and continues rubbing his arms ferociously as he stares out into the white nothingness ahead of us. We’ve been on watch for the last hour just in case Levi decides to come looking for us. But in this blizzard I’m having trouble even looking at my own hands.
“He’s you boyfriend, Jean, you know him better than I do,” Connie sighs, rubbing his red nose. “I’m more worried about what I’m going to get Sasha.”
“Food.”
“Good point.”
We sit in silence for a little longer, watching the snow fling itself on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum and feel our feet grow numb as our ankles become swamped in white. Even with our fur-coated winter uniforms and Marco’s scarf wrapped around the both of us, we still shiver in the cold, waiting for our shift to end.
“You could get him something that will remind him of you,” Connie suggests.
“Yeah? Like what?”
He looks around suspiciously, as if someone were watching us and pulls me in closer. “Well you’re not exactly going to get anything amazing whilst we’re out here, so make him something that he can wear whilst we’re on a mission or something.”
“Like… a necklace?”
Connie nods, surprised at his own logical thinking. “Yeah, something like that.”
Lost in my own thought, I don’t even notice him laughing at me for a while.
“Hey, Jean,” he sniggers, “you didn’t deny that Marco’s your boyfriend this time.”
If it was any other time, he would have gotten a slap around the back of the head for that, but instead, I’m too focussed on how the hell I’m going to make Marco a present in two days…
----
On Christmas morning, I wake up without the aid of a nightmare for once. My heavy eyes open softly to find Marco safe in my arms and fast asleep. A ray of sunshine beams through a crack in the roof of the barn and illuminates a pile of straw where seven brown paper packages lie, each one labelled roughly with a name.
All is silent as I wrap my arms around Marco and he stirs a little, nuzzling his face into my chest and pulling up the blanket further to escape the cold. Although I know he’s got me a present, I think the best gift is knowing that he’s safe. Almost losing him in the battle of Trost was agonising, even though it happened years ago. So much has changed since then, but that moment made me realise how important he truly is to me.
Presents are great, I admit, but waking up to Marco every morning is even better. I just hope my shitty gift will show him that.
One by one, the others start to wake up, looking around and groaning like they would as if it were any other morning. Which it is… except we’re giving each other presents.
Mikasa’s up first and almost runs over to the pile of packages, leaping flawlessly over me and Marco as she goes. She picks up the package labelled ‘Eren’ and smiles slightly at the thought of giving him her gift.
“Eren,” she calls, “it’s Christmas.”
At the very mention of the ‘C’ word, Eren perks up with a grin. He jumps up from underneath his blanket and rushes over to Connie and Sasha. With a sharp shove, he wakes them both up. “It’s Christmas!” he shouts. He only gets the two of them grumbling in return.
Before he even thinks about doing the same to Marco and me I sit up and glare at him. “Don’t even think about it, Jaeger,” I growl. He backs off instantly, still grinning from ear to ear.
“Don’t mind him, Jean,” Armin laughs as he watches Eren almost salivate over the pile of gifts. “He’s just excited.”
“He’s like a puppy.”
Marco laughs, still half asleep. I had no idea he’d been listening the whole time. He opens his big, brown eyes wide and smiles up at me from the cocoon he’s made out of blankets. “I’m guessing I have to get up,” he mumbles. He’s never been good with mornings.
Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, I start to unwrap him from the soft shroud he’s surrounded himself with. “I’m afraid so or you won’t get your present.”
After coercing him from his slumber, Marco and I stagger over to the others, all crowded around the pile of presents. Eren flings his arms over Armin and Mikasa and clears his throat.
“Oh great,” I sigh, “here we go.”
Marco nudges me sharply. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“I didn’t have any until a few days ago.”
Laughing, Marco wraps his hand around mine and slowly drags his thumb over my skin and stares intently at Eren, who begins his speech.
“I just wanted to say,” he begins, “that although along the way we’ve lost many friends, family members and comrades and have come close to losing those who truly mean something to us—“ I squeeze Marco’s hand “—we’ve still got each other and I suppose we’re basically family now. I mean, I’ve seen pretty much all of you naked and all of you cry so I guess that’s the same thing.”
The silence that follows after that statement isn’t one of interest, but one of complete and utter confusion. Eren makes no sense when he’s just woken up.
“But anyway, we’re all here together and I don’t know what I’d do without any of you… including Jean.”
A part of me wants to punch him for that, yet another wants me to give him a handshake… must be that ‘Christmas spirit’ Marco was talking about.
“So Merry Christmas,” Eren smiles and he dives into the pile, picking out the two gifts labelled ‘Armin’ and ‘Mikasa’.
Connie and Sasha both pick up theirs and Marco takes ours, but instead of opening them with the others, he leads me away from the crowd through the door that leads to the stables.
Dragging me by the hand, Marco pulls me in and shuts the door behind him. We’re plunged into almost complete darkness, aside from the cracks in the wood letting in streams of light that brighten Marco’s soft eyes. He hands me my gift and keeps his in his hand. “Open it,” he smiles.
So I do. I rip over the brown paper and feel the soft material between my fingertips. I can’t see too well in the dark, but the pattern and the softness is all too familiar. “M-Marco,” I stammer, “this is your scarf.”
“Only part of it,” he laughs, taking it out of the packaging and holding it up. It looks shorter than I remember… almost half the size. “I figured that since it could fit around both of us anyway, I may as well give you half so you don’t keep stealing it off me when you go on watch.”
I take the blue material from him and wrap it around my neck tightly, beaming at him. The scarf still smells like him – homely and warm and the softness of it is like a dream to my skin. I throw my arms around him and kiss his cheek, now embarrassed to give him my own gift. “I love it,” I murmur. “Thank you, Marco.”
I start to pull him back towards the door, but he tugs me back. “Are you forgetting something?” he asks with a teasing tone.
“N-no.”
He laughs, still holding my hand. “I haven’t opened your gift yet.”
I start shifting awkwardly, not looking at him directly. His gift was so great and he clearly thought about it loads. Mine’s not like that at all. What if I haven’t put enough effort into it? Connie went out and hunted a rabbit yesterday just for Sasha’s present. I haven’t gone to great lengths like that.
I just want to show how much he means to me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, coming closer. He raises his hand to my shoulder and rubs it and I melt in the presence of his smile.
“I just… I want you to like it, that’s all.”
With a heart-warming grin, he kisses my forehead. “Of course I’ll like it – it’s from you.” Marco tears open the paper excitedly, letting it fall to the floor as his gift drops into the palm of his hand. In the dark, he can’t see, but he runs his hand over the smoothness of it and feels the engravings. “It’s a stone,” he says.
I nod, then push his hand into the sunlight and his face brightens as he sees the letters on the stone: ‘J + M’.
“It’s supposed to be lucky or something,” I shrug. “And I thought you’d like the colours.”
Marco smiles at the black and white smoothness of the stone and runs his thumb over it again. “It’s wonderful.”
“I’m sorry it’s so small but—“
He shuts me up by planting a small, but delicate kiss on my lips and strokes my cheek. “I love it, Jean,” he smiles. “Thank you.”
As I lean in for another taste of his lips, a loud bang from the barn sends chills down my spine. Jumping away from one another, Marco and I rush back through the door to see what all the commotion’s about.
The barn door’s wide open and cold’s flooding in. A singular, small silhouette stands proudly in the threshold.
“Oi, brats. Where the hell have you been?”