Years without the people closest to him made Porco a shell of himself. He felt this never ending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.
He longed to be reunited with Y/n and Marcel.
Even though neither himself or Y/n had been chosen to inherit one of the nine he was the only one left with nothing.
"I have to go." Y/n whispered, a small tear escaping her eye.
She threw her arms around him, squeezing him as hard as she could.
He squeezed back gently. Wishing he didn't have to let her go.
"Promise me you'll come back." He whispered into her ear.
"I promise."
He pictured her features in his mind.
He felt desperate to remember her touch and what she felt like.
As the years went by he felt himself start to forget.
What if she never came back?
Would he forget everything in time?
He never wanted to forget y/n.
"Why so sad Pock?" Pieck asked.
He was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of her talking.
"Same as always. And don't call me that please." He answered lazily.
Pieck smiled softly.
"You only ever let her call you that. I guess some things never change." She replied.
A small smile broke through Porcos lips as he remembered how you would call him that.
"I'm going to miss you Pock."
It stung for a moment.
That was something he was sure he would never forget.
"She'll be back in no time, Marcel too. Zeke will bring them back." Pieck comforted.
"And what if that takes years too, Pieck? This never seems to end."
Things were already so different.
It broke his heart to know the voice he remembered didn't sound the same or how the face he remembered didn't look like it used to.
He had no idea who y/n even was anymore.
Could he even pick her out of a crowd?
"It'll all be worth it when they return. I'd wait a lifetime if it meant being reunited with them." Pieck replied thoughtfully.
Porco wished he could agree. Maybe he was selfish but he couldn't handle the pain of waiting.
"I need to go." He replied dismissively.
He left for his room to think.
He didn't want to talk to Pieck about this. They'd talked before. There wasn't any more to say.
Not until y/n and Marcel returned.
Then there would be so much to say.
Years of pent up feelings he needed to get out. He'd thought in great detail about what to tell y/n when she came back.
They weren't twelve anymore.
Things could be different for them.
Until then the painful waiting game would continue.
