The first time Jean Kirschtein saw Marco Bodt, it was a coincidence. The second time, a fluke, a chance encounter. The third time, he knew that he wouldn't be able to ignore the boy and his pain any longer. That was when he intervened, that was the first time he talked to Marco. The fourth time, Jean kissed him on the cheek and didn't regret a thing.

The fifth time Jean Kirschtein saw Marco Bodt, the freckled boy was standing on his doorstep, shivering and looking like he was about to cry with seven kids who looked so much like him they couldn't not be more Bodts.

They all shuffled through the door and Jean's sister, Jaylin, poked her head around the door to the kitchen where she was helping his mom make dinner. "Jeanbo? Who's that?"

Jean was too concerned for Marco to complain about the annoying nickname. "Marco Bodt and his… siblings?"

There was a slightly questioning tone to his voice and he glanced over and Marco, who nodded slightly in response to the unspoken query.

"Oh, alright. Why don't you help Marco get settled and Mom and I'll take care of the kids, okay?" Jean silently thanked his sister for being so observant and noticing that Marco wasn't in the best emotional state at the moment.

"Alright. Come on, Marco. Let's head upstairs for a second."

He looked reluctant but he nodded as well, leaning down to speak quietly to his eldest brother, who looked to be eleven or twelve. The freckled boy, who was almost identical to Marco but younger, was pale and obviously afraid, but put on a brave face and nodded in confirmation to whatever his older brother had said. Marco followed Jean up the stairs and into the latter's room, the door closing softly behind the two of them.

When Jean turned to look at Marco, he could practically feel his heart breaking for the other. Marco was looking steadfastly at the floor, arms wrapped around his torso and body trembling. He was clearly holding back tears, but Jean knew that all he was doing was trying to be strong for his brothers and sisters.

Gently, Jean led Marco to the bed and made him sit down. Marco obeyed numbly, arms still wrapped around himself. Jean wrapped his arms around the other boy and Marco turned his head just enough to press his face into the shorter's shoulder. Marco's breath was shaky and uneven and Jean could feel him trembling.

Slowly, Marco managed to explain what he had been through. Throughout the story, Jean could feel rage building in his chest, though it was quickly extinguished with secondary agony when Marco stopped being able to hold back his tears. Jean held him the entire time, trying to let the freckled boy know that he wasn't alone anymore.

Marco cried. Jean let him. He figured that, after everything Marco had been through, he deserved to be able to let it go. After a while, Marco turned to face Jean fully and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, clutching at his shirt tightly.

When the sobs subsided and his hiccups faded, Marco looked up and wiped his eyes guiltily. "S-sorry… I didn't mean to do that. I know it's a lot to take in, I just…"

"You couldn't keep it in anymore. I understand, Marco; it's okay. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all."

"I just… I want to be strong, Jean. My siblings need me to be the strong, dependable big brother they've always had, but sometimes I just… can't be that."

"Marco, it's just fine. No one's perfect. No one has enough strength to last forever. Even the biggest, strongest people with the best lives have to cry every now and then. You're not alone anymore, Marco. You're not. I'm here, Mom's here, and Jaylin is here when she's not in college. You're safe. Your siblings are all safe. It's okay now, Marco. You're just a kid."

He nodded, sniffling and offering Jean a weak smile. "Thanks, Jean. I needed to hear that."

Jean opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a soft, hesitant knock on the door. They both swiveled and Jean called for them to come in. It was Ethan, looking like he was about to start crying, too.

"M-Marco…? Can I talk to you for a second? I'm sorry if I'm interrupting…" The poor kid sounded terrified, and Jean smiled reassuringly.

"No, it's fine. What's up, Ethan?" Big Brother Marco was back, not a trace of the vulnerability that he had shown a moment before.

The younger Bodt edged tentatively into the room, clicking the door shut and flinching at the noise. Marco's eyes flashed with concern and he gently patted the mattress beside him. "It's alright, Ethan. You can trust Jean. I promise."

Ethan relaxed noticeably after that and nodded, sitting down and curling into his brother's side. Marco held him, one hand stroking gently through Ethan's hair. "What the matter, buddy? Is everything alright?"

Ethan slowly shook his head, edging a little closer to Marco. "I… I'm afraid. I did something a-and I don't know what to do."

Marco gently tilted Ethan's head up and looked him worriedly in the eyes. Jean set a hand on the older Bodt's shoulder, feeling the tension through his shirt. He could tell that Marco was terrified for his little brother. "What did you do, Ethan? You can tell me, I promise. I won't get mad."

Ethan averted his eyes guiltily and played with the hem of his sleeve. He said something, but it was mumbled so quietly that not even Marco, who was inches away from him, could make out anything audible.

"What? I couldn't hear you, Ethan." Marco's voice was strained with repressed fear and concern, his dark eyes darker than usual, probably running through a million possible scenarios in his head.

Ethan hesitated a moment longer, looking like he wanted to say something, before pulling up his sleeve and showing Marco, refusing to meet his brother's eyes. Forehead creasing in confusion, Marco gently turned Ethan's wrist so he could see it better, then his eyes widened in shocked, terrified comprehension as all the blood drained out of his face. On his little brother's wrist were three thin, red lines, right at the crease where his hand met his arm. They were mostly healed and they were little more than scratches, but the implications had made every muscle in Marco's back tense beneath Jean's hand.

"Ethan… did you do this to yourself?" Marco's voice was little more than a gasp.

The younger Bodt nodded silently, tears welling in his eyes that still wouldn't meet Marco's eyes.

"Why?" the word was a whisper, quiet as a breath of wind, but Ethan heard it. A stray tear rolled down his cheek and Marco moved to wipe it away lightly with his thumb.

"I-I heard some kids talking about it at sc-school. They… they said it made things better. I… I looked it up on the Internet a-and I… I tried it this morning. It was scary, Marco. I'm scared."

By that point, Ethan was outright sobbing, his voice choked and breaking. Marco's eyes were soft and guilty as he pulled his little brother into his arms.

"Shh, shh, shh… It's okay, Ethan. It's okay now. I'm not mad."

Jean averted his eyes, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment. Ethan was so young, and already turning to something like self-harm to get through the day. It didn't give Jean a good feeling about the world.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to do anything bad, I just thought… I thought maybe, if Dad saw, he'd stop hurting you. That he'd be nice again." A tortured expression crossed Marco's face as Ethan's sobbed words hit him. Jean knew he was feeling like the entire thing was his fault.

"Oh, Ethan… I'm so sorry. I should've gotten you out of there sooner. I should've payed more attention. I'm so, so sorry."

The brothers cried, wrapped in each other's arms, and Jean longed to just reach over and hug them both. Once again, he waited silently until tears had dissipated and been wiped away.

"Hey, kid. Are people bugging you at school?" Jean's tone was soft, though his phraseology could have been construed as harsh.

Ethan looked down, his expression one of shame, and nodded slowly. Marco pulled him close again, shaking his head gently.

"You're not alone anymore, Ethan. I'm here for you, okay? Anytime you need to talk, anytime you need to let anything out, come to me, okay? Just promise me that you'll never, ever go to a blade again. Okay?"

Ethan gave his brother a watery smile and nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry, Marco. I didn't know it would be so bad."

Marco smiled fondly and ruffled Ethan's hair. "It's alright. I'm glad you told me instead of just continuing with it. I'm proud of you. That was a brave thing to do."

Ethan's smile widened bashfully and he nodded again.

"Ethan, look. You can talk to me, too. I sort of know how you feel."

Marco and Ethan both looked at Jean, twin looks of concern on their faces. Jean had to laugh at how alike they were. "Hey, now, don't go jumping to conclusions."

He paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain what he had gone through, even though it was nowhere near as traumatic or painful as their hell had been. "A few years ago, I was really scared because I was hiding something from my parents. When they found out, though, they were really accepting. But what I'm trying to say is that I sort of get why you're so scared."

"What were you hiding? I-if you don't mind talking about it, that is." Ethan's question held all the innocence and shyness of the child that he was.

Marco opened his mouth, probably to take back his little brother's question out of pure embarrassment, but Jean shook his head. It wasn't like it was a big secret. "I was born a girl, but when I was about fifteen I realized I'm a guy. It wasn't really something I could control."

Jean realized that that was the absolute worst definition of being trans in the history of the universe, but Ethan seemed to get it. Marco was looking at him analytically, like he was trying to figure out if Jean really was okay or if he was still having issues.

After a few moments, Ethan decided to go watch over his siblings and left the room. Immediately, Marco turned to Jean with wide, fearful eyes. "Are you really okay? People don't have issues with you, do they?"

Jean laughed softly and shook his head, touched by Marco's protectiveness. "I'm fine, Marco, really. I mean, there are a few assholes, yeah, but they don't bug me."

Marco visibly relaxed and nodded, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry if I'm being overprotective… I just—you're my first real friend in years. I don't want to see you hurt."

Jean's smile flickered at the implications behind the words. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Marco's neck, tugging him close. "Hey, stop that. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you or me or your siblings anymore. Not if I can help it."

"I know, I just worry. Sorry." Marco's voice was muffled due to his face being hidden in Jean's shoulder.

"It's fine. I understand."

"I know. Thank you."