(closed) if there were two guys on the moon

[sunspotted]

WHO: Reiner (hometown), Marco (sunspotted) and Galliard (bigporkenergy)
WHAT: The disastrous dinner.
WHEN: Early November
WHERE: Reiner + Gabi's place.
WARNINGS: Violence, inevitable mentions of gore/death/cannibalism and war crimes.

Marco thinks it's sweet of Galliard's friend to get them out of the starter apartments.

Marco has no problem being there - plenty of people he knows are there, after all! - but there's also something nice about having more space. He doesn't mean in where they live, although theirs is a little bigger than the starter area. To know that his friends aren't on the lower floor, as much as he enjoys having them close by. He thinks it's good to give himself some space, to talk to new people. He won't fall back into letting other people handle his problems.

He also thinks it's nice that Galliard suggested he come along. He wouldn't have automatically included himself in any relocation, but he was and it's flattering. Galliard and he haven't really talked about their home worlds much. There's so much to do here that they bond over mutually new experiences without having to talk about the wars they've been in. They don't know they're from the same place. He doesn't know Galliard's a Titan shifter.

He doesn't know Galliard's sweet friend is the same person that murdered him.

No, instead they're standing outside a pleasant looking home as Galliard knocks on the door. Marco's dressed in something he considers nice: black slacks, a white button up shirt and a gray vest. Yes, he's aware who else dresses like this, but he thinks it looks good on anyone!

"You said he has a cousin that lives with him too?"

Comments

[sunspotted]

Marco, despite himself, snorts in the middle of trying to rub away his tears when he realizes what Galliard's said. He almost feels like giggling but it passes. His head hurts now, and since Galliard left his hand on his shoulder, he lays his head against his arm, listening.

They were too young to see it. Marco's begun to realize how uncommon kids joining the military so young is, here. He actually agrees with what he says.

He watches Galliard offer a hand. When Reiner takes it he breathes a sigh of relief to himself he didn't realize he was holding onto.

"I'm sorry I hit you without trying to talk," he says after a moment, looking at Reiner guiltily. "I don't know if I can forgive you for what you did to me, if I'm honest."

"But," he continues on, sitting up straight, looking at Reiner with a determined expression. "I don't want to be angry and fight about it, either. You were one of my best friends... You, Bertholdt, and even Annie."

He mirrors Porco by raising his arm and offering a hand to Reiner. He gives him a small, sad smile.

"Do you want to try again with me?"

[bigporkenergy]

It’s a little surprising how quickly Reiner goes for his hand, and it makes Galliard’s heart hurt. So much goddamned lost time, so much anger and wasted emotions over nothing that really mattered in the end. He clasps Reiner’s hand back, gripping it like he should have a long time ago. He can’t change their past, but he can do better in whatever future they have here.

He nods at what Marco says, and smiles faintly at him. That’s a level of grace and dignity that is close to awe-inspiring, and Galliard knows he’d have difficulty doing the same, especially so fast. Hell, it took him almost dying and then actually dying to get his head straight, and he’s older than Marco.

“You got the punching out of your system? Good. No more throwing rocks, either.” Then he turns back to Reiner, and as he does, Galliard lowers his knees out of a his crouch, settling more solidly onto the floor. Are they going to hug this out? If they are, he’s ready.

“You’re not going to get a better offer than this, Reiner.” He squeezes his hand. “I think you should take it.”

[hometown]

Marco speaks, apologizing for punching before trying to talk. Whatever tiny foothold Reiner had managed to find crumbles instantly, sending him plummeting again, memories pressing in so close that he can taste Trost in the air, blood and terror permeating its streets. His breath catches, a shudder passing through him that Galliard—their hands still clasped, Galliard's grip reassuringly firm—may be able to feel.

Reiner murdered Marco instead of trying to talk. And Marco is apologizing just for punching him…? Just for hitting him with a rock, a wound that has already healed?

Reiner wishes he was still bleeding. He wishes Galliard would let Marco continue hitting him.

They were kids who didn't know anything. Right? No, Reiner knew it was wrong. Didn't he? Isn't that why he broke? Isn't that why his mind is filled with shards of glass, every wrong/right move slicing him in different ways?

They were children sent to wage an ancient war, murdering hundreds of thousands of their own people. He was a kid taught from infancy to hate devils. Maybe what happened on that island isn't their— isn't Reiner's fault. Maybe the responsibility really does lie with those high above.

But Reiner can still feel Marco struggling beneath him. He still recalls the sensation of clapping his palm over Marco's mouth, silencing Marco's screams. He still shouted at Annie, threatening her and her father until she helped him kill a "devil."

Marco smiles at him, extending a hand, offering to try being friends again. Porco squeezes Reiner's hand, encouraging him to accept Marco's offer.

The sob that rips its way out of Reiner is nothing like the quiet tears streaming down Marco's face, nor is it like the stray tears Reiner was unable to suppress when Porco told him about Marcel's memories. It is raw. Ugly. Something that causes him to crumple inward as if he's trying to curl up like a child, his hand instinctively tightening its grip on Porco's.

In all of Reiner's nightmares, Marco never did this. He never smiled so sadly. He never offered to try to be friends again.

It's too much. It can't be real. It just can't be.

[sunspotted]

To some degree, Marco expected hesitancy from Reiner. It's very obvious he's not doing well, even if he doesn't truly know the breadth of it just yet. Marco isn't offering forgiveness, but being kind to your killer still isn't what Reiner expected, he's sure of it.

The sob breaks his heart in two.

He doesn't even think about his next actions, calling Reiner's name before he sweeps forward across the floor. His gaze catches with Galliard and he uses the hand he'd extended to grab Galliard's other hand, and he drags both of them - Reiner and Galliard - into a hug.

He can't quite get his arms around both of them, but it's enough. He pushes Galliard to Reiner's front - he's sure Reiner needs someone from his home right now - and presses himself to both their sides.

"I've got you, Reiner," Marco tells him, shushing and cooing softly, pressing his cheek to the top of Reiner's head since he's curled inwards and shorter than Marco for the moment. He doesn't lie and say it's okay because it isn't. "I'm not going anywhere."

He'll hold Reiner as long as he needs.

[bigporkenergy]

Of all the places Galliard expected to be today, this did not count among them.

He makes a startled little noise when Marco sweeps forward, and for a half-starved kid from the island, Marco can be strong when he wants to. Galliard finds himself man-handled into position, in front of Reiner and lifting him up off the floor, onto his shoulder. When he thinks back on it later, Galliard will tell himself that it was all Marco's doing, that he hadn't been turning in that direction anyway, that he hadn't been reaching for Reiner and Marco just helped move him along. He doesn't consider himself a particularly emotionally sensitive or mature person, but goddamn, he's better off than these two.

"Yeah, we've got you." Shit, Reiner is against his chest already, might as well wrap his arms around him and let him cry. "We've got you."

A moment later, as an afterthought: "Don't get snot on my jacket."

Another moment: "Please."

[hometown]

Reiner makes no promises. He doesn't say anything at all. Even if he wanted to, he can't past the tears choking him, grief and guilt and thrice-damned longing ripping him into pieces. Great, heaving sobs wrack his frame as he spills all the tears he couldn't dare shed on that mission. (All the tears he will one day be too exhausted and ravaged by life to spill.)

It isn't real. None of it is real. It's a new, exceptionally cruel brand of nightmare.

He's clinging, anyway. One hand remains tight in Porco's, body curled into his comrade's (rival's, better's) embrace. His other hand somehow ends up clutching Marco's shirt at the small of the other boy's back, returning Marco's hug even through the chaos clouding his mind.

Reiner cries until he runs out of strength. Until his head aches and his chest burns, and all that remains are shuddering gasps. The pain settles behind a fog, numbing his mind to the worst of it. Finally allowing him to speak if he chooses.

But he still doesn't have words. None save for futile pleading with his mind, but even that is quiet for now, the fog making everything feel more distant.

Another inhale, another exhale. Then two words finally escape unbidden:

"I'm sorry."

Unforgivably presumptuous. Reiner doesn't deserve to apologize.

He bites his lip to prevent anything else from slipping out.

[sunspotted]

Marco cracks a smile at Galliard's comments, unable to find the energy to chide him for being 'rude'. It doesn't seem to bother Reiner, anyways. His cries are cries of grief, of Reiner struggling with something that's hurt him deeply. Marco raises his other hand to stroke over Reiner's back, over his spine, keeping up the movement as his cries give way to gasps. He tries to remind Reiner to breathe, to not choke on the air he needs to take in.

The apology surprises him, somehow. Even though Reiner is clearly sorry and grieving, and he understands, better, the strange and unkind situation he was placed in.

His grace does only go so far, but it's not as if a lack of it will make him mad.

"I know," He tells Reiner, daring to turn his head and press a kiss to the top of his skull. He can't forgive him, like he said, and he can't offer an absolution he doesn't want to give. He can do this, at least, extend the understanding.

[bigporkenergy]

Once again, Marco's grace under pressure is startling, and inspiring. Who taught this guy how to be so kind? Galliard catches that acknowledgement is not the same as forgiveness, but that kiss on Reiner's head is far, far more than he thinks anyone could have hoped for. Would he be able to do that same, someday, for his own personal demons made flesh?

He doubts it. He doesn't have the well of internal grace that Marco apparently does.

But he does have enough to not chide Reiner for all the tears and snot he's managed to smear all over Galliard's jacket. He'll just quietly bear up under it, and use the washing machine when they get home. At least tears and snot washes away. It's more than he can say for the blood on Marco's shirt.

He squeezes Reiner's hand, and pats his back a few times. "Reiner. You are really, really heavy. Can we move this off the floor if you want more hugs?"

He's willing to keep this going! But they need to go to the couch before Galliard's back gives out.

"And don't apologise for being heavy. It is what it is."

apologies for the wait!

[hometown]

There is a gentle pressure on the top of Reiner's head, something he doesn't immediately recognize. Why would he? When was the last time someone kissed the top of his head? Was it his mother back in Marley? Or did Bertholdt ever kiss him like this when they camped atop Wall Maria, Reiner curled against his best friend's chest, clinging to the only thing in the world that still made sense?

It's not something Marco should do. It's not something Reiner deserves.

But as much as Reiner wants to dismiss it as a dream, Porco (Galliard, he wants to be called Galliard) points out how heavy Reiner is. It clashes with the rest of the delusion, startling Reiner back to the present, the fog in his mind clearing very slightly.

He releases his hold immediately, as if that might help him pull it together. Straightens up and stands on his own two feet, as if that might help him feel steadier. As if it might wash away the shame rising to burn his cheeks, the disgust that turns ever-inward.

What a joke that he can't lose his balance. What a fucking lie.

"Sorry," he immediately mutters, blatantly ignoring Galliard's last words. He can't seem to look at either of them, staring at nothing, gold eyes unfocused.

Does he look as disoriented as he feels? Maybe. Or maybe he just looks like he sobbed his heart out, eyes red and cheeks blotchy, appearing less a soldier/Warrior/half-assed piece of shit and more like a little boy who used to cry in the dirt, always dead-last.

But then his eyes happen to fall upon Galliard's jacket. His expression immediately shifts, looking like he accidentally kicked over Gabi's favorite toy. "Your jacket…"

[sunspotted]

When Reiner moves to stand and pushes himself up, Marco holds tighter for just a moment, before he lets go. He's clearly reluctant to, to some degree, but he's not going to hold Reiner down and make him let them keep holding them.

"The jacket will live," he tells Reiner with a shake of his head. He knows enough to not ask if Reiner's okay. He clearly isn't, and he probably won't be for a while. Marco shifts from one foot to another, unsure what he should do next. Should they offer to stay for dinner? Should he offer to leave and let Galliard and Reiner figure it out?

He glances at Reiner's profile and then at Galliard, unsure of himself.