Jean sighed as he settled into his bed. "Ah, a nice rest after a hard day's work..." He snuggled into the girl he'd had climb into bed with him, causing her to hug him tightly.

"Jean!"

Jean jumped five feet into the air, shrieking. Some evil entity decides to sneak up in him and his woman, eh?! Well, let's see how he feels after–

Oh. It was just Marco.

"Hello, Jean!" Marco said cheerfully. "I was wondering–"

"Marco, I don't have time," Jean muttered, waving Marco away. "I'm busy with Alex here." Jean blinked, then nodded sadly.

"I understand, Jean. Bye." He quietly left the room.

Since that day, life became a living hell for Jean. Every second, no mater where he was, Marco would always pop up with some stupid question to ask. Jean never let him talk long enough to hear the question.

Finally, when Jean was eating dinner, the final straw snapped.

"Hello, Jean! If you don't mind me asking, –"

Jean slammed his fist down onto the table. "I do mind, frankly, but yes, just go on."

Marco's eyes and smile brightened. "Oh, thank you, Jean! Now- what's your favorite color?"

Jean's eyes widened. He took in a huge breath, but said nothing- he was too stunned. He firmed tight fists with his hands, but did nothing.

"... THIS IS WHAT YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN INTERRUPTING ME FOR?! MY FAVORITE COLOR?!" He began to shake and breathe heavily.

"It's green, idiot! Now leave me alone." And with that, Jean left, leaving poor Marco.

Marco had fought till the end. He was an amazing soldier and optimist. The battle was right after their fight. Jean walked far away from the others to vent out his feelings alone.

"How could I have let this happen?!" he demanded, wildly swinging his arm into a tree. He rubbed it slightly. "Marco, I wish I could've protected you... Led you..."

Jean suddenly stopped in his tracks when he saw Marco's dead body laying against a wall. He slowly walked over to him, and fell to his knees.

"M-Marco..." Jean whispered. He hugged his lifeless body. "Marco..."

Something sharp poked Jean's cheek. He leaned in and looked at Marco's pocket, where his face had rested. He silently opened it up.

The second he saw the paper, his eyes widened. The tears wouldn't stop falling, slipping down his face and dropping to the ground, or on Marco. His wide eyes refused to stop sending tears down, but honestly, he didn't care. He stayed there, just kneeling in front of Marco's dead body, silently sobbing in shock.

The deep green paper in Marco's pocket read, 'You can do it, Jean! You're a true leader… Marco'

A/N: This was originally going to be some messed up crack!fic...