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Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
A mantra that Porco has been repeating to himself since he woke up this morning.
Today being the day of his brother’s funeral.
He only found out about his brother’s death five days ago, and finding out that they didn’t even make it a day out before he got eaten trying to protect that useless excuse of a warrior didn’t make it any better.
Putting the thought of the earlier event out of his mind, he walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen in the house to join his parents.
He would never admit this to anyone, but a hug from his mother or a pat on the head from his father always lightened up Porco’s mood.
But he had a feeling that he would be the one comforting his parents today.
His poor mother was crying, she hadn’t stopped since they got the news. His father was better at composing himself, he always was. But Porco could tell he was trying hard to push down his emotions, wanting to stay strong for his (now smaller) family.
As he sat down next to his parents, he wrapped his arm around his mother’s trembling shoulders, trying to calm her down.
Porco wasn’t sure if they were waiting for a queue to leave for the funeral, and his father must’ve been thinking the same thing as he suddenly said, “Are we ready to go?”
The two male Galliards stood up, and Porco had to encourage his mother to join them.
He looked at his father and replied to his earlier question.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
*********
The carriage ride to the church, while less than thirty minutes long, was filled with a silent grief that wouldn’t leave the air.
Porco and his mother were sitting beside each other on one end of the carriage, while his father was sitting across from them by himself.
Something else Porco would never admit was that he was always a mama’s boy growing up, and he still was.
His mother had a vice grip on his hand, as if she was worried that her youngest (now her oldest and only) child would slip right through her grasp.
When the carriage came to a halt and the doors were opened for them, Porco had to force his legs to move.
I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do this.
This replaced the previous mantra in his head, the sadness being replaced with dread.
When the whole family was out of the carriage, Porco held onto his mother’s arm again. He told himself it was to comfort her, but he knew deep down it was for his own benefit as well.
In the church courtyard, Porco could see a few familiar faces. Some he was happy to see, some he was not. He then saw a small girl with black hair walking up to him and his family.
Pieck.
As she approached the mourning family, a sad smile spread across her face as she caught sight of their expressions.
Porco’s mother was the first to speak. “Pieck, sweetheart, how are you?” She tried to smile through her grief as she spoke to the young woman.
Pieck found it quite odd that someone who had just found out that her eldest son had died was asking her if she was okay, but it showed that the Galliards were good people.
“Fine, my legs have been hurting lately, but I’ll manage.” She answered honestly.
“Porco, why don’t you walk around with Pieck for a bit? We have some time before the service starts.” Porco’s father suggested.
Porco nodded, and Pieck took his arm and led him away, wanting to keep the boy’s mind off of the whole situation.
“So, be honest, how are you and your family really holding up?” She wanted to know the truth, but didn’t want to force him into telling her.
Porco eventually caved. “Well, I haven’t been doing as well as I’d like to admit. As for my parents, dad’s trying to keep it together for the whole family, and mom’s been crying non stop. I’m trying to comfort her, but nothing works.”
Pieck could feel tears burning her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. She couldn’t, she wasn’t the one who lost a family member.
“On the bright side,” the boy began with a lighter tone, “I guess I’ll be inheriting the jaw titan now. It’ll mean a shorter life but at least I’ll actually be useful for once.”
Pieck felt like she didn’t hear that last part correctly. Be useful for once? Is this what Porco thinks of himself?
She was about to bring it up, but Porco’s father calling his name cut her off. They were talking for longer than she thought, and the service was starting now.
As the two warriors entered the church, Porco sat beside his parents and Pieck sat beside her father. Porco reached out to hold his mother’s hand to ground both her and himself.
He tried his best to ignore her trembling shoulders or concealed sobs. He tried to comfort her by caressing her hand and whispering reassurances to her.
*********
When the service was over, Porco didn’t know how to feel.
He felt relived, but also empty. Like this was the last experience in his life that had something to do with Marcel.
He was still comforting his mother, holding her close to his chest as soon as they exited the church.
They, along with everyone else that attended the service, were outside in the courtyard, getting ready to bury Marcel’s coffin.
Porco found it quite funny that they were burying a casket. It’s not like Marcel’s body would be in there, anyway.
His father took his mother away from his arms and led her over to where Pieck’s father was standing to engage in a conversation.
He was about to join them when a raspy voice called his name.
“Galliard.”
He turned around and caught sight of his commander, Theo Magath. But the pissed off look that usually sported his face was replaced with one of… sadness?
Magath held out both of his arms.
“Come here, son.”
That’s when Porco couldn’t take it anymore.
He collapsed into Magath’s arms and instantly broke down into sobs. Sobs that he’d been holding in for five days, no, four years.
The only sound Porco could hear over his own sobs was Magath’s soothing words, trying to calm him down.
“It’s alright, you’re okay Galliard.”
“He’s g-gone.” Porco managed to say through tears.
Magath held him tighter. “You two were inseparable when you were younger. He loved you so much.”
“I loved him too, but I never told him that. He probably thought I hated him right before he-“ A sob that tore its way through Porco’s throat cut him off.
“Galliard, he never hated you. You should’ve heard him, he was always prattling on and on about all of your achievements.”
This news made Porco freeze in Magath’s hold. Achievements? He couldn’t think of anything he did by himself that was even slightly remarkable.
As he eventually calmed down, he could hear panicked voices calling his name.
“Mr. and Mrs. Galliard, he’s over here.” He felt Magath’s chest vibrate as he spoke.
“General Magath, thank you.” Porco’s father spoke as he began rubbing circles on his son’s back.
Porco eventually pulled away from his commander and wiped his eyes.
“How are you feeling now?” Magath spoke again, keeping his voice low as to not draw attention to themselves.
Porco just sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, wanting to be in the comfort of his parent’s embrace.
Magath noticed this, so he handed him back to his parents and watched as they led their crying son away.
Porco’s parents led him to the carriage that they were all previously in and shut the doors, wanting to get to the burial as soon as they could.
A few minutes passed with the family sitting in silence, the only sounds being Porco’s sniffles. The carriage suddenly jerked forward, letting the family know that they are being transported to the burial sight.
Throughout the entire journey, Porco’s mother held onto her son’s hand and began to stroke her thumb back and forth over it, trying to offer whatever comfort she could whilst also being upset.
Due to Porco’s occupied mind, the journey passed in a blur, the only thing grounding him was his mother’s hand on his. The carriage jolted to a stop, and the driver opened the door for the family.
As they exited the carriage and began to make their way to the grave sight, Porco took notice of Pieck and her father again.
However, as soon his eyes left her and began roaming around more, he saw someone he wishes he would never see again.
Reiner Braun.
He couldn’t believe the audacity that man had to show up at the funeral of a boy whose death he was responsible for.
As Porco glanced at the man again, however, he noticed that Reiner looked like he would rather be anywhere else right now. He also couldn’t help but notice that Reiner’s eyes had a red rim around them. It almost looked as if he were… crying?
Why should he be crying? Well, he was always sensitive when they were younger. Old habits die hard, I guess.
But it wasn’t just Reiner that caught Porco’s attention, though. Standing not too far away from Reiner was the Grice family.
Porco had nothing against the family, but they were the last people he wanted to see today. Seeing Colt adjust the tie around his younger brother’s neck brought him back to when he and Marcel were younger.
Anytime the Galliard family would go out somewhere, their mother would always make her sons wear a tie.
Porco could never figure out how to tie one, so Marcel always had to do it for him. Marcel had told him that he would eventually tell him how to tie one, but that day never came.
His father’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Okay, let’s go.”
Oh, right. Porco spent so long focusing on Reiner’s face and the Grice family that he had forgotten where they were and the reason why.
As Porco turned around to see his parent’s grieving faces, something else in his field of vision almost made him fall over if his father hadn’t of grabbed onto his arm at the last second.
A coffin.
More specifically, Marcel’s coffin.
Well, an empty coffin, considering they couldn’t retrieve a body that was devoured by a titan.
As the pallbearers began to lead everyone to the empty grave, Porco’s hand shot out to hold his weeping mother’s own one, needing something to ground him in his feeling of melancholy.
The guests at the funeral all surrounded the grave plot, awaiting the moment for the pallbearers to lower the empty box into the hole.
As the box reached closer and closer to the ground, Porco’s mother wailed, causing her son to hold onto her and bring her into his own chest, trying his best to bring her comfort during this desperate time.
“Shh, it’s okay, mom. I’m right here.” Porco whispered in his mother’s ear. The older woman just held onto her son tighter.
As the coffin was about to hit the ground, Porco couldn’t help but close his eyes. The sound the coffin made as it hit the ground was a sound he would never forget.
Goodbye, Marcel.