There

Jean/Marco, fluffy, back in their training days.

"Great. How's he going to help us in our group evaluation tomorrow?"

"This is pointless… why'd we pick him for our group…"

"What a waste of our time!"

The voices were too loud. Jean hated it; his head was spinning even though he distinctly knew he was lying down. And to make matters worse, he was sure they were talking about him. He was the only one immobile and in pain with closed eyes right now, wasn't he? If he concentrated, he could make out who the voices belonged to, but his brain hurt from thinking too much.

"Shhh… if we want him to get better, we have to let him sleep…"

It was a placating male voice. It was soothing to the ear, much more than those voices just before. Get better? Was he sick?

That was when Jean remembered.

They'd been out in the rain the whole morning, using their 3D Maneuver Gear and slicing wooden targets open. Slipping and sliding in the wet mud before takeoff, Jean recalled hitting a tree or a few. Maybe that's partly why his head felt like it was being split open. His hands were frozen on to the handles of his blades, his feet numb from the cold rain sloshing in his boots. He'd have to pry them both off.

When they'd finally returned to their barracks at noon, Jean had begun to feel a little fuzzy-headed and a tickle in his mouth had started. Eventually it felt like it had become a full grown monster, clawing his throat into pieces. He'd reached the site with the others and before he could take a step further, he collapsed on the hardwood floor.

In other words, he had gotten sick.

It was nothing to do with Jean's suddenly raging fever when his cheeks felt hot; shame and humiliation engulfed him. How could he graduate when he could get sick so easily? From only 5 hours of being out in the rain? The next day they'd be doing another run in the forest, but in their groups, for evaluation: it was just rubbing salt into the wound.

All the while, Jean had kept his eyes shut. He could still hear his teammates' voices around him. Now that his mind was a bit clearer, he could tell who they were. The ones complaining were Eren, Annie, and Connie. The one telling them to be quiet was… Marco.

The knowledge Marco was there, just standing next to him, made Jean feel warm inside. He didn't quite know why, but it did, and he reluctantly cracked open an eye.

The light in the room nearly blinded him, sending another shockwave of pain through his tender head.

"Look, he's waking up!"

Jean gave an agonized grunt as he opened both eyes, his whole head throbbing. His vision swam before it finally came to familiar surroundings. He was lying down in his bunk and his teammates surrounded him; Marco was carrying all of his heavy, damp clothes and gear.

"Rise and shine, Jean," Eren grumbled.

"Hello to you too, shithead," Jean muttered back, clutching at his forehead.

Eren looked highly miffed and left with Mikasa, who must've been there all along, following suit.

Annie sighed and set down a glass of water and a couple pills on the bedside table. Turning around to leave, she said, "Go take care of him, Marco. Like you always do."

Marco let out a small, amused sigh and turned around to Jean, who was looking disgruntled.

"He doesn't always take care of me!" Jean exclaimed at Annie's retreating back indignantly but to no avail as the room was now empty except for he and Marco. Jean didn't need Marco to look after him all the time! He was stronger than him, quicker than him!

"Just hush please," Marco said, taking the medicine from the table. "Swallow them. You'll feel better, hopefully in time for the evaluation tomorrow."

Jean unwillingly took the pills from Marco's hand, grumbling. He swallowed them with a sip of the water. "I hate being sick…"

A small smile appeared on Marco's face. "I hate seeing you sick."

Jean's face grew warm again, related to neither his embarrassment nor his fever. It was quiet in the dorm room. He could hear the clock Armin had mounted on the wall ticking.

What possible negative or obnoxious things could Jean say to that? Yes, to everyone he constantly replied very sarcastically or pessimistically, but when Marco talked it was hard to answer him like that.

When Jean thought about it, whenever Marco talked Jean was actually quiet. Something about the sound of his voice… he dismissed it and put down his glass on the table again.

"You don't have to take care of me, you know," he said roughly.

Marco's wide eyes, light brown in the light coming in from the window, crinkled in a laugh. For a moment, Jean couldn't look away.

"Jean. I respect you and I'm your friend," Marco said kindly and calmly, as if he was explaining something simple. "And I'm here for you."

Jean's heart warmed at his words. However, his head was also starting to warm up a little. In fact, everything was feeling nice and warm… and cozy… the pills he had taken were affecting him…

"Anyway, I really do hope you feel better. We kind of have to do well in this group evaluation. By the way, Armin, Eren and Mikasa bought the medicine from the apothecary, so you owe them some money…"

Jean didn't hear the rest as the pills he'd swallowed took its toll and sleep dragged him down from reality.

When Jean woke up, his headache had disappeared. Huh, that medicine really had done the trick. He was feeling much more awake and, well, alive. He looked up at the clock on the wall; it was eight thirty in the evening. It was dark outside as well, except for the lamp dimly lighting the room. From the muffled noises Jean could tell all of the cadets were still hanging around the mess hall, probably finishing dinner.

A small sound caught Jean's attention, and he slowly glanced down, to the left side of his bed, where he almost jumped.

In a chair, slumped over the side of his bed, was Marco, snoring softly. The top of his head, his dark brown hair, was just barely touching Jean's thigh. His arms were sprawled out around him. One of his hands was just one millimetre away from Jean's own.

Jean's heart skipped a beat. Marco must've been waiting here, at his side, for quite a long time. He hesitantly lifted a finger, and gently touched Marco's hand. It seemed like the right thing to do. Marco was asleep, anyway.

Marco's hand was about the same size as his hand—just a little bigger—and when Jean's fingers slipped there, their hands were interlocked as if it was the most natural thing in the world. A perfect fit.

"Jean?"

Jean almost fell out of his bed. He jerked his hand away from Marco.

Connie was at the door, holding a lamp and a package. Jean could see he had turned red after seeing their entwined hands. Heck, Jean was probably beet red himself.

"Er—sorry—we saved you two dinner—um—I'll give you it later—" Connie stuttered.

"Huh…?"

Jean looked down, and blushed further as Marco awoke. He looked dazed, similarly to a bear cub being woken from hibernation. Jean realised that expression was much more attractive than even Mikasa. Than any other girl he'd seen.

Connie rushed out, leaving behind the package.

Marco yawned, lumbering out of his chair and towards the package. "Huh, what was that about... Well, you're feeling better now, right?"

Jean cleared his throat. "Um, I don't know… but yeah, yeah I am."

Marco picked up the box, and turned to him with a sleepy grin.

"Look, dinner!"

It's so fluffy wow. I finished episode 13 of the anime yesterday and I was heartbroken, you people probably know why ... adaklfjdlakfdasldkfjk so I wrote this ficlet to, you know, feel better. I'm sorry! haha. feel free to drop a review or favourite! :)