Chapter Text
Another sleepless night. The ceiling was rough, white, but had what looked like sharp bubbles coating the surface of it. Marco had stood on his bed more than once to run his hand over the rough surface, it actually helped steady him if he woke from a nightmare or had been sleep walking again.
Marco let out a soft breath of hot air, forcing his eyes to open as he glanced at the angry red letters from his alarm clock beside his bed. It was about 8AM, he figured now was as good of a time as any to get up. Propping himself up on his elbow, he ran a hand through his thick black hair. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a good night’s sleep. Before his ‘retirement’ that was for sure.
Suddenly feeling nauseous, Marco curled in on his stomach, resting his forehead on his knees. He had thought being a paramedic would be good, he didn't have a problem when he was studying for it. As soon as he started to train and eventually get hired, Marco quickly found out he didn't have the stomach for the job. He had seen too many people die, he had tried to hard to save them all. Yet in the face of death he was helpless. Marco had to resign after three years, after the incident.
Marco rushed to the bathroom and continued to empty the little bit of food he had in his system into the toilet. He coughed violently, resting his head against the cool porcelain. Its been over a year, why did it still bother him so much?
Taking a couple minutes to settle, Marco eventually pushed himself up and wandered his way back to his room which had a desk on the far side of it. His one room apartment was more of a dorm room than anything else. He didn't have the money for anything else though. Flipping through the letters on the brown wood, Marco let out a sigh. He wouldn't be able to afford this place much longer, he hadn't been to work since his leave and the money had had was only so much.
Air. Perhaps a breath of fresh air would do the trick. He grabbed a dark blue scarf he kept in the top drawer of his desk and wandered out the door.
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It was a cool autumn day. Marco tightened his scarf around his neck. It wasn't terribly cold, but it was cold enough to justify the warm cup of cocoa that rested in his right hand. There was a grassy park by his apartment, Marco figured seeing the leaves change would be good for him.
The path was pebbled with cracks, the cold dry air getting the best of it. He passed a park bench with a man sitting in it, though halted when he heard a familiar voice call out, “Marco? Marco!”
The freckled man turned on his heel, a bit surprised anyone would know him around here. He generally kept to himself. But lo and behold, there stood Connie! His face lit up, the cold didn't feel as harsh around a familiar face.
“Connie? Its been ages, how are you?” Marco inquired, keeping a smile on his face.
“Great! I got myself a girlfriend now. You would love her. How about you, I havent seen you since… Well…”
Marco’s smile immediately fell, and he forced down some bile rising in the back of his throat. He didn't say anything immediately, and Connie took it as an opportunity to make it up to the taller guy, “never mind that. Hey! Lets go get some coffee, yeah? Talk about the good ol’ days when it was you and me against the world, eh?”
Connie was about the same age as Marco, mid twenties. He had tan skin with a buzzcut that showed a shadow of hair peeking from his scalp. Connie and Marco had gone to the same college, though while Marco was studying to become a paramedic, Connie had wanted to get more into medical science in the police branch. They had roomed together the whole time, and became the best of friends.
Marco had to bend down some under the weight of Connie’s arm, which had looped around his neck in a half-hug. Marco was silent, then decided that it would be good for him to go out so he gave Connie a small smile, “yeah, that would be great actually.”
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“It is not humanly possible for someone to eat that much.”
“No joke though! I swear, the whole turkey, by herself!” Connie exclaimed, his hands flying up to further escalate his point.
“This Sasha girl sounds terrifying.” Marco laughed, taking a sip of his new cup of cocoa. He had ditched his other cup of cocoa in the park trash when he finished it.
“Right? It is sooo hot.”
Marco rolled his eyes and watched as Connie leaned back in his chair and gave a happy sigh. He was so glad that his friend had found someone, he deserved happiness. The freckled guy quickly snapped to attention when he realized Connie was staring at him. “What?”
“Eh. You seem tired, is everything alright?”
Marco sighed and leaned back in his own chair, “not really. I still have the nightmares, and I’m not going to be able to afford living where I am too much longer unless I find a job.”
“Why not get a flat-mate?” Connie suggested innocently. Marco shot him an incredulous look, surprised he would even suggest that. Through the years they had roomed together, it had not always necessarily been by choice. They never had a problem with it, mind you, but anytime Marco tried to room with someone else, they transferred because of his sleepwalking.
He never did anything dangerous, but he was known to wander and sometimes stand at the foot of his roommate's beds. They didn't like that, and Connie was the only one who seemed to give less than a fuck.
“No one would want me as a roommate.” Marco drawled, leaning forward and resting his cheek on his palm. He glanced up to see Connie with the most shit-eating grin he had ever seen. “What?”
“Funny, you're the second person to say that to me today.”
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Marco wasn't sure why he agreed, but here he was getting dragged by the arm down the brightly lit hall of some sort of science morgue. Or whatever they called that place to research murdered bodies. Marco immediately shut out the little girl’s glazed eyes.
Connie pushed open a door into a science lab or sorts, and playfully kicked him in. Marco stumbled forward with a grunt and looked up. The only other person in the room was a man. Around the same age, it seemed, as himself. He had a thinner build than Marco, and looked to be a bit shorter too. The thing that grabbed Marco’s attention the most though was his hair. The man had dual colored hair, sandy blonde on the top half, while black around the rest of his head and down his neck.
It seemed though, that the guy’s eyes and attention were currently pressed against the eyepiece of the microscope.
He gave them a half-hearted glance before his focus went back to whatever he was looking at. Marco felt Connie pat his arm and push him toward the obviously busy man, “This is Marco. The guy I texted you about.”
The man gave a noncommittal grunt and started to twist the turret to get a better look at, whatever he was looking at. He outstretched his hand towards the pair, “phone.”
Marco heard Connie beside him groan, “come on man. You know its almost dead, I don't want you guzzling up the rest of it.”
Immediately reaching into his own jacket, Marco pulled out a simple black phone, and placed it in the rather grumpy man’s open hand. His fingers snapped around it, and he finally pulled his attention away from the microscope. He narrowed his amber eyes at the phone, examining it closely before shrugging and typing away on it.
“How long did you work?”
Marco was a bit taken aback, was he asking him? “What?”
“How long were you a paramedic?”
The freckled man couldn't be any more surprised. He checked his clothes, no he didn't have anything on that said he was a paramedic. Shooting Connie a look, the bald man gave a grin and nodded.
“U-uh, three years.” Marco stared at the man curiously, a bit confused. How did he know he worked as a paramedic? “How-”
“Easy,” he waved, giving Marco a wide grin, “you are alert and focused on everyone around you, constantly aware of their vital signs. Your hands don't shake, not even the normal mild tremors that everyone has, they are as still as a surgeon’s. You don't wear any sort of jewelry, not even a watch to avoid it getting caught in something. You face is drawl, bags under your eyes from nights woken or little sleep. You suffer from some form of post traumatic stress disorder. Perhaps you had seen something on the field that was too much, perhaps you had gotten hurt yourself. But you don't appear to be nursing anything, which even if you were no longer in pain would do anyway due to the trauma associated. So, you saw something happen. You quit after that, but I cannot say how long you had worked as one.” He gave a snort, “plus you look like the type of little shit that would become a paramedic to help people, but realize you don't have the stomach for the shit that is involved.”
Marco was floored, to him they just seemed like random little tidbits of knowledge. How could he piece that together like some sort of wizard and come to the conclusion he had been a paramedic? “Incredible.” Marco found the word slipping out of his mouth before he even had time to think.
The oddly hair colored man blinked, then squinted at him suspiciously. After a couple minutes he gave a grin and typed a bit more on the phone before standing and throwing on his coat. It was long, and frankly looked a bit over dramatic, but Marco wasn't one to judge. The man gave his phone back and headed to the door.
“Th-thats it then?” Marco found himself asking, “are we going to move in?”
“Of course.” He snarled, acting like he was talking to someone who should obviously know better.
“But, W-we don't even know eachother, much less our names! Hell, I dont even know where the place is!” Marco exclaimed, shoving his phone back in his black cargo jacket.
The man paused by the door, then shrugged and pulled it open with a swift tug. “The name is Jean Kirstein, and the address is 535, Maria.” Jean gave the confused man a wink before slipping away.
Marco stood there, still not entirely sure that this whole situation had happened. He gave a glance to Connie, who seemed more impressed than anything.
“Well, would you look at that… He likes you.”