Work Text:
all my grief says the same thing:
this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
and the world laughs.
holds my hope by the throat.
says:
but this is how it is
We Were Young – Fortesa Latifi
There’s blood on his hands. Half-heartedly, Jean tries to wipe them on his trousers before looking around in a daze. He needs to do something. Needs to act on instinct, be somehow useful. He isn’t ready to let go of being a soldier, to fall apart like he knows he should have by now. Cannot do this here, in front of all those strange, hostile people.
He should be at his commander’s side, together with Connie, trying to negotiate their fate. But he is not in the mood for politics, either. He needs… a mission. A simple task he can complete and move on to the next one. Nothing complicated. Just enough to keep his hands busy – to stop himself from thinking about all the lives they’ve taken.
About all the lives they’ve failed to protect.
He rubs his palms on the trousers again, rougher this time, but the blood stays in place, permanently embedded under his fingernails.
“Mother.”
Reiner’s voice catches his attention. His former comrade—no, his former enemy is nearby, talking to a worn-out looking woman. She is reaching for him now, a genuine smile on her wrinkled face, and Reiner… Well, he looks like he’s about to fold in on himself. His arms tense, gaze fixed on the ground. This seems way too familiar. This is something Jean can deal with.
“Reiner.”
His voice is commanding as he closes the distance between them, interrupting whatever the woman was trying to say.
Reiner’s head snaps up, and the man turns to him so fast, Jean almost expects a salute. He would laugh out loud if only the situation was any different. His experience as a squad leader seems to be paying off. And isn’t Reiner some kind of a vice captain in his own right?
His hand squeezes Reiner’s shoulder.
“Are you—” He stops himself. That would be the most ridiculous question to ask. “Glad to see you made it in one piece, Reiner.”
“That’s… mostly thanks to you.” Up close, Reiner still looks like a dead man walking. “Jean, I—”
“Shut up.” Jean pulls him into a long-overdue hug. Placing his chin on Reiner’s shoulder, he also finally acknowledges his mother – by looking her straight in the eyes and narrowing his own in a warning.
I dare you.
In a different situation he might have uttered some light-hearted, smartass comment. He might have scowled at the woman, knowing way too well how it is to be embarrassed by one’s parent. But today Jean cannot find it in himself to care for subtleties. Because he sees there’s something dark between these two and he’s certain that whatever Reiner’s mother did to him, has lead to his downfall.
I double dare you.
Jean is one of the devils the woman fears so much, with his claws sunk in her son. But he will be truly damned if he lets her hurt Reiner again.
The woman clearly gets the message because her gaze drops, and she no longer seems as relieved as before. Now, there is some actual shame showing on her face. Good, that’s way better. Jean allows himself to smile and closes his eyes. Reiner’s hands find their way to his hips and finally encompass him in the middle.
Reiner lost quite a bit of weight, didn’t he?
When Jean saw him for a brief moment in Marley, after the four-year break, he almost felt satisfied. Whether Reiner’s sorry state was a result of starvation, guilty conscience or Ymir’s curse, didn’t matter at all. In Jean’s humble opinion, this traitorous fuck didn’t deserve anything, but back pain and receding hairline.
Jean knows better now.
“You’re shaking. What are you thinking about?” Reiner’s voice is hoarse in his ear.
Jean would very much like not to think about anything, to be honest. Save perhaps for whatever is going on between Reiner and his mother. But he’s not going to comment on that, at least yet, given that Reiner hasn’t even noticed the staredown that took place behind his back.
“I was turned into a Titan for the first time in my life. It was disgusting. There’s still this foul taste in my mouth… Shit, I didn’t eat anyone, did I?”
“Well, you did go and bite me straight in the nape… Ever the professional.”
“Fuck, I did? Sorry, man.”
“Forget it.”
“Don’t even think for a second that I wanted your shitty Armored Titan power or something. I told you, it was absolutely useless.”
Reiner’s laughing quietly into his ear, and Jean finds himself smiling a little wider. Hugging him a little tighter. He feels one of Reiner’s hands make its way to the back of his head.
“It’s good to have you back, though,” Jean says after a beat of silence.
“Oh? Missed me that much?” Reiner teases, but instead of falling back into their old, bickering ways, Jean decides to answer truthfully:
“Yes. I did.”
In reply, Reiner ruffles his hair like he used to when they were younger.
“And you got me worried, man. As a self-absorbed jerk I have a certain reputation to uphold, so you have to cut down on that self-sacrifice crap, okay? We are a team, remember? We’re in this together.”
Reiner’s hold on him turns almost desperate, and Jean can feel the relief radiating from the older man’s body.
It takes him a while to reply, and when he does, his voice is very quiet:
“Yeah. I’ll remember about that, Jean.”
“You better,” he whispers, twisting his fingers into the back of Reiner’s shirt. “Now, can you help me with something?”
“Anything.”
When they finally separate, Reiner looks at him with ease and a kind smile. Jean clears his throat and motions with his head to the side. Reiner casts one glance at his mother, but she just nods without a word. Good.
They make their way further into the battlefield and encounter something vaguely resembling a discarded human head. Jean’s heart skips a beat. It’s just Zeke. He knows it must be Zeke – even if he’s doing his best not to look again to confirm his suspicions. He feels Reiner’s soft touch on the small of his back.
“You need to breathe.”
If Reiner recognizes his beheaded war chief, he doesn’t let it show. Jean wants to grace him with some witty comeback, but his voice decides not to cooperate, so he only sighs in agreement. Finally, they reach their destination.
Levi’s out cold, his body battered and filthy, face glistening with sweat and tears. Jean saw him earlier – hallucinating, talking to himself. He let him be then. He had his own hallucinations to deal with.
Levi would hate the state he’s in right now; the dust, the bacteria, all the fucking blood… Jean does his best to dry the captain’s face with the sleeve of his own shirt. It’s only when Reiner loudly shuffles his feet that Jean realizes he almost forgot about him.
“He needs a doctor,” he says hurriedly, a little embarrassed with himself. “Do you know anyone here who could help? I don’t feel like making new friends today.”
“What, with your affinity for pissing everyone off whenever you open your mouth? No wonder.”
“You sure talk a lot of shit for someone who got bitten in the nape by an amateur.”
Jean scoops Levi into his arms, mindful of his fractured knee, and stands up on slightly shaking legs. The captain’s compact and not light by any means, but to Jean it seems like he’s about to disappear. Suddenly, he feels like puking which must show on his face because Reiner is at his side in an instant. Jean shakes his head.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Unless he wakes up to me carrying him bridal style. So, please, let’s go find the doctor before he gets the chance to tear me a new one, okay?”
Reiner looks at him for a second too long, but finally nods. As they head back, they walk past Armin, who’s still trying to win their enemies over. He’s relentless, fighting yet another battle while knees-deep in the mud of the earlier one. Jean sees Connie, Annie and Pieck at his side, trying to lend support.
Mikasa seems to be long gone. Jean didn’t even expect her to stick around. He wonders briefly whether he’ll ever see her again.
Levi’s breathing shallowly into his chest, and Jean tightens his hold around him. He’ll be damned if he loses anyone else today.
Reiner shoots him a worried glance over his shoulder, but doesn’t say anything.
If you ask Jean, there’s nothing really left to say.
***
It’s been a rough few days, but Levi’s stable now. He’s sleeping on a cot in one of the tents provided by whatever is left of Marley’s population. Jean is sitting on the ground next to him, listening to the sounds coming from the outside. The crackle of fire, hushed voices, the clink of cans of watered-down soup being passed around. It’s almost peaceful.
Jean stares into the bowl Connie brought him like it’s some magical mirror. He didn’t feel like eating when the soup was hot and definitely doesn’t feel like eating now, when it’s cold.
He’s trying to think.
Now that he is in a secluded place, hidden away from prying eyes, he actually feels ready to confront his feelings. So he’s thinking. About Hange at first. About crazy, reckless and insanely brave Hange, and their sacrifice.
Jean grits his teeth, his throat aflame from sudden pain. But, of course, now the damned tears just won’t come. His nails dig into the meat of his palms. Still nothing, even when blood starts pooling in the crescent-shaped marks. He feels like smashing his head into a wall.
This thought almost makes him laugh.
A wall, you see. That’s funny. Well, maybe if Eren hadn’t done his best to destroy the Walls on Paradis…
He surges forward and almost puts his head into a bucket left by the doctor in case of a toilet-related emergency. Jean starts heaving desperately, but nothing leaves his throat. He tries several times more, but to no success. His lungs hurt, and so does his back. Maybe he’s just getting old.
“Jean,” Levi croaks out.
Jean’s head snaps up, and he is at his side in a blink of an eye. Thank whatever higher force there is, he didn’t actually manage to vomit.
“Captain, what do you need?”
“At ease, soldier.” Levi’s trying to sit up, so Jean lends him his shoulder.
Levi’s face, still half-hidden behind bandages, scrunches up in visible pain. Jean helped the doctor change the dressings. Did his best to ensure there is not a speck of dust left on the captain’s hands and clothes. Everything in his power, to minimize the risk of an infection that would undoubtedly prove to be fatal in Levi’s current condition.
The clouded, remaining eye takes in their surroundings.
“What’s the status?”
“Armin and Reiner are negotiating with Marley’s representatives. Onyankopon is helping them. There are still some soldiers who want us killed on sight, but I’d say we’re safe for the time being. They’ll be probably moving us to… whatever is left of Liberio at some point, but it’s too early to say when. There’s the risk of plague transmission from the cadavers.”
Levi nods. He seems a little stronger and definitely more lucid now, but Jean decides to leave his hand on the captain’s back. Just in case. He helps him to some water. He also wets a clean cloth and places it on the man’s forehead once it’s time to lie down again.
“Jean.” He’s caught off guard when he notices Levi’s eye fixed on him. “It’s okay to cry, you know?”
Jean opens and closes his mouth. Opens them again.
“Yes, sir.”
The tears don’t come though, even by the captain’s orders.
Jean continues to live in Levi’s tent. The other man can’t be happy with the fact that he needs assistance with the easiest of daily tasks, but doesn’t complain even once. At Jean’s assistance, that is. He complains a lot about other things, mostly dust and poor bathroom conditions or rather – the complete lack thereof. But Jean suspects he does it solely to… cheer him up, in a typical Levi way. To bring back a little sense of normalcy. The captain is not one for smiles or kind words, but he cares a lot, a lot more than he would like to, most probably. He and Jean are similar in that way. So, they grumble at each other and clash, and they survive. Day after day.
Onyankopon and Armin visit on regular basis. Their experimental alliance has finally taken shape, and the Marleyans seem ready to cooperate with them. Arlert even managed to make contact with Paradis and inform Queen Historia about their situation. At that, Levi immediately orders Jean to start pulling his weight into the project.
“I’ve lost two fingers, an eye and motor functions in one leg. Not my ass and brain. Stop fretting about me like a mother hen and go clean up the mess Eren has left behind. And eat something, for crying out loud. You start to look like a scarecrow, and I hate this crap. Shit’s creepy.”
So, Jean tries to clean up Eren’s mess. And it’s rotten work. Dead bodies are everywhere, way too many to count. Jean collects them, sees them burn, watches the ashes dance in the wind and hopes that somehow they’ll manage to stop the plague from spreading.
He washes his hands in boiling water before going back to Levi each night.
***
Jean can’t fall asleep. Whenever he closes his eyes, he sees streets covered in trampled bodies, pools of blood attracting bugs and rats. Hears Eren’s laugh at the news of Sasha’s death.
Seeking fresh air, he walks out of the tent sometime after midnight and immediately notices a solitary figure, sitting in front of one of the campfires. The flickering illumination is enough for Jean to recognize it’s Reiner.
It’s strange for him to be in this part of the camp. There are three distinct sections: the first one, focused around the remains of a military base, is for the Marleyan soldiers, still too distrustful and scared to be mingling with the rest of survivors. The second one, for Eldians and those willing to fraternize with them. The last one – for the sick, where Jean spends most of his time, looking after Levi. People don’t come here willingly, too afraid of the threat of epidemic.
So, what is Reiner doing here?
Probably looking for some solitude, Jean muses. This is the least populated part of the camp. Knowing Reiner, he spends his days overworking himself and trying to keep everyone’s morale high. He’s the highest ranking officer the surviving Eldians have. He’s probably their unofficial leader by now. It’s understandable he needs some me time after putting up with all of that.
Looking at his shrunken figure, Jean decides to leave him in peace. Only the first time, though. The next night, he pokes his head out of Levi’s tent just because and is not in the least surprised to see Reiner again, in the same place, illuminated by the fire and lost in thoughts.
And the idiot didn’t even bring a blanket. Jean grabs his own and struts over to Reiner with confidence. He was never a patient man, after all.
“Do you want to catch a cold?” He drops the material on Reiner’s head, startling him. “You’re not a Titan anymore, remember? You won’t just magically heal overnight.”
“Jean—”
“Yeah, whatever, just take the damn thing and wrap it around yourself.” Jean sits right next to him and crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s up, boy wonder? We didn’t have a chance to catch up in a while. Have you forgotten about me already?”
“No, of course not. I’ve just… been busy. I’m sorry.” Reiner complies and puts the blanket on his back. Even snuggles down a little.
“No need to apologize, I’m just teasing. Armin’s not having you do overtime, I hope?”
“He’s been all over the place, securing our way out of here. We keep going back to Liberio, to assess the damage and…”
“To clean up other cities in Marley, I know. I went with Connie a few times, too.”
“Oh. Alright.”
“Levi’s better now. He is most certainly glad to be rid of me for at least a few hours a day.”
“That’s good to hear. About him being better.”
“Yeah. I mean, he’ll most probably never walk independently again, but I don’t think he sees it as much of an obstacle. We’ll get him some crutches… He really seems to be at peace. I’m envious, to be honest. Personally, I still feel like I might blow up at any moment.” Jean scratches the stubble on his chin and sighs.
Sparks drift in the air like fireflies.
“I know what you mean,” Reiner says quietly.
“You look and sound collected enough, though. But you’re not getting enough sleep, are you? I saw you here yesterday. And the bags under your eyes tell me it’s been going on for some time.”
“So, you’re really one of those people?”
“Huh?”
Reiner smiles a little, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“People who see other people’s sadness and make it their own.”
“I… What are you even talking about, Reiner?” Jean snorts and waves his hand dismissively. “You know me, I only ever care about myself. I was just making a very general observation. Aren’t you Liberio’s leader now? Onyankopon told me, people flock to you like to their long-lost father. You should be getting enough rest to be able to take care of them.”
The ghost of a smile remains on Reiner’s face, his eyes fixed on the flames.
“You’re right, sleeping has been difficult lately. How about you?”
“I’m sleeping well enough, thanks for asking.”
“But you look haunted.”
“Well… Don’t we all? We had been through enough horrendous shit this past couple of years, but the last month sure put it all in a different perspective.”
Reiner’s fingers stroke the blanket’s fabric. The sea of tents around them is shrouded in silence. The hills surrounding the camp offer some protection from the cold wind, but Jean rubs his arms anyway. Somewhere above their heads, comes the cry of a bird.
What kind of bird would fly in the dark?
“We’re running short on food,” Reiner decides to speak again. “The Marleyans don’t trust us with rifles, so hunting is out of the question for now, and who even knows what is left of the animal population, anyway.” The smile disappears from his face like it was never there to begin with. “I’m supposed to lead those people, but… I honestly don’t know how.”
“It’s not like you to lose heart, Reiner.”
Jean smirks when the other man looks at him in surprise.
“It sure is tough, but we can’t give up now. We’ll scout whatever is left of Marley and burn the bodies. I don’t know shit about farming, but for sure there is someone here who does. Maybe Armin read some smart book about it. And I doubt the Titans managed to squash every living creature in the ocean. Niccolo really got me to appreciate seafood, you know?”
Reiner is toying with the edge of the blanket again, so Jean places his hand on his arm and makes sure the man looks at him.
“We make do, Reiner. So, please, make sure to sleep well. Because we’ll need you every step of the way.”
Jean pats him on the back and takes his leave shortly after that.
Later that night as he’s trying to fall asleep to the sound of Levi’s steady breathing, his thoughts turn to Sasha. Potato Girl would have been truly unhappy in the world Eren has left in his wake, wouldn’t she? Barely any meat left, no hunting, no… hope? No, hope’s still there. It has to be.
But why won’t the tears come?
He covers his ears with his hands.
He’s so tired.
***
Grey rain keeps pouring on his head. It doesn’t wash away the smears of grime from his cheeks and neck, but soaks heavily into his coat, causing the embroidered wings to stick to his back like a tattoo. Jean gestures for the oncoming military truck to stop and makes his way over to open the crate. There’s at least twenty bodies inside, but it’s hard to tell exactly – most of them are covered with dirty sheets which is a small mercy. The stench of decomposition is heavy in the air, making Jean tie a bandana over his face. Fucking flies are everywhere.
There are three teenagers scrambling his way from the car.
“That’s the rest of them, sir. The docks have been cleared.”
Jean looks closely at the boy before him; at his dirty face and shaking hands. He seems a little older than the other two, but still no older than fifteen. Why hasn’t anyone provided these children with some proper equipment?
“You did well, boys.” Jean reaches into his coat and takes out a piece of paper. He scribbles a few words on it before handing it to the oldest teenager. “Go wash up and eat something warm. You are all dismissed for the rest of the day.”
“But, sir—”
“That’s an order. Go home.”
He doesn’t have to repeat himself. The boy squeezes the paper in his hand and nods at his companions. Jean watches their retreating backs before turning to the car filled with bodies. He still hasn’t picked up that annoying habit of smoking, so many of his colleagues indulge in, but right now he really wants to reconsider.
Pulling thick gloves on his hands, he grabs the first body by the legs and hauls it out of the car. It’s probably a man, judging by the general shape and weight. Jean should be able to lift one more. Looking back inside the crate, he notices a smaller body, with pale legs sticking out from underneath the sheet. There are colorful knee socks on them, but only one shoe.
Jean feels the rain make its way down his neck, into the coat. He grabs the child’s body at the waist and hauls it out of the car as well. It fits right under his arm.
“Sorry, man,” he says as he starts dragging the adult’s body behind himself.
It takes him a while to reach the ruined market where the funeral pyre is raging. It’s big enough not to succumb to the rain that’s been keeping them company for the entire afternoon. There are many people around, both men and women, civilians and soldiers. Jean makes his way between them and tosses the child’s body into the fire, sending a bunch of sparks flying. He doesn’t stop to look at it be enveloped by flames, but instead grabs the other body under the arms and forces it into the pyre as well.
He spends the next hour going to the car and back with another cadaver in tow. No wonder the rain is grey. How could it not be, when they keep feeding the skies more and more of their dead each day?
Jean takes a break and seriously considers bumming a cigarette from one of the Marleyan soldiers before he notices Reiner on the other side of the market, just by the ruins of what might have been a town hall. The man is leaning over a desk, surrounded by some officers.
Jean can almost see Reiner’s golden eyes, intensely scanning whatever map or document he has in front of him. The officers are talking over each other, and Braun’s forehead is scrunched in concentration. Suddenly, he straightens his back, making all of the men around him fall silent as if on command. Reiner grabs the paper from the table – a map, after all – and folds it.
“I want the majority of our forces in the northeastern part of the country. Stopping the plague is our priority. But send three squads further into the south. We don’t know how far the Rumbling has reached. There might be still some survivors there. I expect a report two days from now.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Dismissed.” Reiner turns his back to the men and stands by the fire, failing to notice Jean looming in the background.
From up close, Reiner looks like shit. His nose and mouth are covered with a cloth, what makes the bags under his eyes more prominent. He’s still an imposing, burly man, even if he lost some weight and is now an inch or two shorter than Jean himself. Somehow the coat looks heavy on him, like Reiner is about to crumble from its weight. Or maybe it’s the weight of everything that has transpired, pulling him down to an early grave.
Jean takes off his gloves.
Grabbing Reiner’s hand without a word of explanation, Jean stands at his side and looks into the fire as well – their shared burden like a bridge over everything that drove them apart in the past. Jean wonders if those charred bones would be proud of him now. Despite everything he’s done and everything he failed to do.
Reiner squeezes Jean’s fingers.
Even through the bandana, Jean can almost feel the ashes land on his tongue. It’s as bitter as expected.
“What did I tell you about sleeping like a normal human being?” Jean asks, confronting Reiner in the evening. “Do I really have to check on you every night?”
He even brought alcohol for this special occasion. He had found it somewhere in the ruins a Marleyan restaurant and couldn’t force himself to leave it behind. It looked expensive.
Not that he intends to drink it, really.
They came back to the camp two hours earlier, and Jean spent most of that time scrubbing himself raw. They are close enough to a lake to be able to take baths as often as they want, even if carrying and boiling water is a real pain in the ass. Given the tasks he busies himself with each day, Jean doesn’t think to complain out loud.
“Sit down and look up.” Reiner grabs him by the arm, and Jean stumbles into the place next to him, almost dropping the bottle in the process.
He shoots Reiner an angry glare, but the man is not paying any attention to him. There’s something interesting happening in the sky. Ribbons of green light move on it like waves, covering stars, and causing Jean to open his mouth in awe. He’s never seen anything like this before, but he could swear he heard about it somewhere.
“I think Armin told me about this once. Is that…?”
“Aurora borealis,” Reiner supplies, not taking his eyes off the unfolding spectacle.
Jean hums and pulls his legs to his chest. He almost gasps when the green lights are joined by pink ones, and hears a small chuckle coming from Reiner.
“Why are you staring at me, all of the sudden?”
“I can’t help it, you look like a kid in a candy shop.” Half of the blanket Reiner’s wearing on his back is thrown over Jean’s shoulders. “Come closer, asshole, it’s getting colder.”
“Fuck you and thank you, it’s still my blanket, after all.”
They stare into the sky for a while longer before Jean finally feels ready to break the silence.
“How are your children?”
“My children?”
“Gabi and Falco.”
“They’re not my children. Gabi’s my cousin and Falco—”
“I know, I know, but you keep acting like they’re your children, anyway.”
“They’re good. I’m doing my best to keep them away from Marley for the time being. Gabi’s not happy about it, but she has a soft spot for me and doesn’t want to argue. They help around the camp.”
Jean bites down on the pad of his thumb, already pondering his next question.
“Do you want to have a family, Reiner?”
He can feel the golden eyes scanning his face.
“For a long time I thought it wouldn’t be possible. With Ymir’s curse and everything… My father had left my mother before I was born, and I didn’t feel like becoming another absent father figure myself. So, I didn’t really entertain the idea of starting a family. I didn’t even pursue any woman romantically.”
“Except for Historia.”
“Everyone knows Historia is special. But Ymir would have had my balls if I’d ever tried to make a move on her.”
“I’m sorry,” Jean says.
“For what now? My failure of a love life?”
“No.” He sighs. “For trying to kill your cousin. I tried to shoot Gabi. And Falco, like Yelena said, I—”
“Stop, Jean. Let’s don’t even go there.” Reiner makes some sudden move, and the blanket almost falls off his back. Jean catches himself wanting to reach out and put it back in place. Reiner does it himself, thankfully, and spares him the embarrassment. “You don’t need to apologize for anything to me. I want for those wounds to heal, not open again.”
“You’re right. If we start digging in the ashes now… I don’t think we’ll be able to come up for air again.” Jean closes his eyes. “I promised myself to leave the dead in peace and focus on the living. Regrets and what ifs… These are the luxuries we can no longer afford, can we?”
“I think… It’s time for us to start living again.”
They fall silent for a while and Reiner forces a few biscuits into him. Jean can still taste the ashes, the ones he’s not supposed to be digging in, in his mouth, but swallows the food as ordered.
“Do you want to have a family, Jean?”
He lets Reiner’s question hang in the air for a while. The bottle of whiskey is heavy in his hand, the golden liquid gleaming in the light coming from the flames.
“I always thought I would have it one day,” he says eventually. “You know, since I was twelve, I had that dream about joining the Military Police and living in the interior.” Reiner hums in acknowledgement. “You probably think I gave up on that a long time ago, but that’s not true. Even when I joined the Scout Regiment, I held on. I kept thinking that one day this would be all over. Might as well do it then. Just hold on a little longer. Just be patient and try not to die. But when the Jeagerists took over, and Floch told me I could stop fighting… I realized it’s no longer possible for me. Once one battle ends, another begins, and I can’t turn my head away.”
Jean runs the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. He’s really screwed, isn’t he?
He continues:
“If I can’t get what I want, maybe someone else will. And… I intend to continue collecting dead bodies from the streets and I’ll do my best to stop the plague, so that one day some kid gets to live in safety, without worrying about getting eaten or shot, and… I guess it will have to be enough for me.”
Reiner is silent again, and Jean keeps looking at the bottle in his own hand as if it holds answers to all the questions plaguing his mind.
“Fucking Zeke,” he changes the topic and smiles bitterly to himself. “You know, I also thought I’d become a raging alcoholic after the war. I always liked alcohol a little too much. Now would be the most perfect time to numb myself with it. But Zeke took that from me as well. Shit, he only messed with wine, but…”
Reiner plucks the bottle out of his hand, gives the label a once-over, and tosses it aside. His hand reaches back for Jean’s, and their fingers intertwine, the sound of breaking glass fading in the background.
It is what it is.
“Don’t bother, it’s a shitty brand anyway.” Reiner clears his throat. “So, Krista—I mean, Historia. I hear she’s running an orphanage?”
“That’s true. All the children who had lost their parents four years ago… She took them in.”
“What an amazing woman. A goddess.”
“Yeah… Wait, you’re still into her? She’s married now, you know?”
“I know, I know. And what a shame that is.”
Reiner’s thumb keeps stroking his palm and Jean hums, before stretching his legs and standing up rather abruptly. He goes to Levi’s tent and comes back with another blanket. He spreads it on the ground and fixes Reiner with a determined glare.
“Lie down. Don’t you have a meeting with the Marleyan officers in like three hours? Something about three squads going south to look for survivors? Go to sleep now before I knock you out myself.”
“You’re really spending too much time with Levi.”
“Lie the fuck down.”
Reiner’s lying on his side, eyes closed and brows slightly less furrowed than usual. Jean is right next to him, on his back, with arms behind his head. When he’s not checking in on this reckless idiot, he keeps stargazing and, for once, not thinking about the dead.
***
While making his way through the ruins of Liberio with Connie, Jean finds a can of chocolate cookies. It’s a good day for them. They received a message from Historia – she had managed to take their families in and made sure they are safe. The fact they are considered traitors by their own countrymen still leaves a bitter taste in Jean’s mouth, but the confirmed safety of their relatives manages to outweigh the negativity for once. He considers opening the cookies right there and then to celebrate, right on the fucking graveyard, but instead brings them to Reiner one of the following nights.
“They are for Gabi and Falco, just to be clear.”
Reiner seems so oddly touched by his gesture, Jean finds it hard not to turn red on the spot.
“How do you keep finding me?”
“It’s really not that hard. I just leave my tent every once in a while and there you are. Like a stalker.”
“Levi’s tent, you mean.”
“Fuck off.”
Shadows flicker on Reiner’s face, mixing with light coming from the campfire, making his eyes look darker than normal, his nose somehow more prominent. The stubble on his cheeks looks softer, though.
He’s very handsome like this, Jean realizes. It’s not that he hasn’t realized that earlier. It’s just… Reiner looks especially good now, despite the sadness that seems to be etched on his face forever. Maybe he finally got some decent sleep.
“And why do you keep staring at me like that?”
“You’re so miserable, it’s almost fun.” Jean plops on the ground next to him. Reiner offers him half the blanket as usual – it’s Jean’s blanket, damn it – and some crackers to go with it. “I could use some real fun.”
“You could use some real food.”
“So, what are you thinking about? Historia’s husband?”
“You’re quite close, actually. Ymir. Not Fritz. Just… Our Ymir.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I wouldn’t even be here now if it weren’t for her, you know.”
Jean does know. What he doesn’t know, however, is how to comfort him. This topic is way too delicate, and he doesn’t seem to be able to find the power in himself to offer any insight that could make Reiner feel better. He really wants to, he discovers, but he is not equipped to do that. He was taught how to kill monsters, not mend broken hearts.
Somebody, please find us…
It’s like a blow to his stomach. Jean tilts his head back and stares at the sky, trying to hide the terror that must have shown on his face by now. Bertholdt’s desperate plea keeps echoing in his head, haunting him not for the first and most certainly not for the last time, either. He regrets eating the crackers now. He’s going to be sick.
He feels Reiner’s heavy gaze, so he forces himself to swallow the lump in his throat and flushes involuntarily. He really needs to get a grip. It’s getting pathetic.
Their arms are squeezed together, offering some much needed warmth. Jean ruffles his damp hair, so it doesn’t stick to his neck so much. He took a bath not so long ago and it’s a really chilly night. Looking at the long strands in his fingers, he wonders if he should have cut them by now. With Mikasa gone, who’s he really trying to impress? It would be much easier to keep himself clean this way too, given their living conditions.
“You have really grown into your horse face, you know? Your mane is quite magnificent, too. The goat-ee is a surprise, though.”
“I’ll fucking murder you in your sleep, Reindeer.”
“You really know what a reindeer is?”
“Okay, now you’ve done it.”
The scuffle is short and half-hearted, but at least they are warmer now. Jean finds the silence between them to be very comfortable. But, of course, he’s an impatient man and needs to interrupt it sooner or later. He tells himself it’s not because he likes Reiner’s deep and oddly comforting voice so much.
“Do you feel any different, now that the curse has been removed?”
“There’s a certain… lightness in my chest. As if I dropped some unnecessary ballast. It seems to be easier to breathe. But, sometimes I wonder if I’m not making it all up, just to be able to carry on, day by day. Like placebo effect, you know? Maybe it’s only the Titan powers that have been taken away from me. Maybe the curse has stayed behind.”
“Bullshit.”
“Do you still draw?” Reiner’s question takes Jean by surprise.
“Huh? Where did that come from, all of the sudden?”
“I remember from our cadet days, you were always drawing something when we had time off. I seem to recall a lot of Mikasa-centric—”
“I was just doodling, Reiner. Not that I was any good at it,” he shuts him up fast, feeling his face get alarmingly hot. “And it wasn’t only Mikasa.”
“Come on, Kirschtein. Being humble doesn’t suit you at all. You should give it a try again. I enjoyed your art quite a lot. It was… cute.”
“Yeah, be careful or I’ll choose you for my next muse.”
“Nah, I don’t have black hair.”
“Piss me off a little more, and me and Connie will make sure to change that for you. You’ll have to sleep with one eye open.”
“For someone who nags me so much about my poor sleeping schedule, you sure make a lot of sleep-related threats.”
“I have to keep you on your toes.”
The flames crack, feeding greedily on the branches Reiner keeps putting on the fire.
“By the way, I’ve heard you took Gabi and Falco fishing the other day.”
“Yeah.” Jean shrugs. “They looked bored, so I showed them what Sasha had taught me. With you being so important and in high demand these days, General Braun, I assumed you wouldn’t have enough time to keep them entertained.”
“So, you checked in on them. You didn’t have to.”
“Give me a break, man. I wanted to and I’ll do it again if the kids are up for it. Not that fishing is much fun, but…” He sighs and waves his hand in the air. “At least it keeps them occupied, right? So, you just do your thing and try to keep us alive. Uncle Jean is going to take care of the rest. Starting with your poor sleeping schedule.”
“I really appreciate it, Jeanie.”
“Just go to sleep, Reiner.”
He ends up not cutting his hair.
***
That day he comes back from Marley shaken to the core. The remnants of the refugee camp burned into his eyes, brain and soul. This is the last straw, he realizes, somehow surprised, as he stumbles out of the overcrowded wagon and needs to rely on someone’s hands not to fall down. This is it. I’m losing my fucking mind.
He shakes off the caring hands and heads straight for Levi’s tent, ignoring worried gazes and questions about his well-being from people he barely even recognizes. He also doesn’t know if he’s ever seen fear on the captain’s face before, but now that it’s there, Jean is thrown completely out of balance.
He asks Levi if he needs anything, looming above him like the devil the Marleyans have for a long time believed him to be; ashes smeared on his face and in his hair. So much blood on his hands and coat.
He reeks of death. How fitting.
Levi’s saying something, but Jean doesn’t understand a single word of it.
He feels a pang of pain in his right hand and looks at it through the fog that keeps clouding his eyes. There are pieces of a shattered teacup cutting into his skin. That’s funny, when he picked it up, it was in perfect condition. It was, actually, the only thing left untouched by the Rumbling in the refugee camp. It looked just like that day…
The pieces fall to the ground.
Levi’s talking to him, growing more and more agitated with every word, but Jean feels like he’s underwater. No sound is reaching him. Levi’s probably just pissed at him for dragging mud and blood into his tent. So much blood…
“I’m sorry, sir,” he says, out of breath, and then he’s running.
He doesn’t know where. But he’s fast when he wants to be and manages to leave their camp behind before any doubt catches up with him. He thinks he hears Levi call Reiner’s name, but it must be a mistake. Why would Levi scream for Reiner? Reiner has nothing to do with this.
Jean crosses the train tracks and runs further ahead. The sun has set already, and the darkness keeps approaching from all sides. I can’t breathe, he thinks briefly. He feels like something, like someone, is chasing him, caging him in and sucking up all the oxygen from the surroundings. But there is some hill up ahead. Maybe he’ll be able to breathe there.
Once on top of the hill, Jean falls to his knees and starts clawing at the ground; his fingers reaching deep, looking for an escape route, a way in. Maybe if he buries himself, he’ll be safe from whatever is lurking around him.
How could he break the teacup? It must have been important to someone.
Maybe to that child who got crushed right next to it. Was that the boy who had stolen Levi’s money? One of his brothers? Someone from the family that took them in for that one night? Someone completely else? Jean couldn’t tell. Some fat rat kept eating the remains of that child’s face and Jean… He just felt empty. Dried up like an abandoned well that stood in the sun for too long. A well that should have collapsed on itself years ago.
“Jean.”
He keeps his eyes fixed on ground, but doesn’t really feel its hardness under his knees. He doesn’t dare blink. There’s nothing steady around him, nothing he could hold on to. It’s as obvious as the fact that no one from the refugee camp survived. There was no way for them to.
With Marley too preoccupied with Eldians, they never bothered with some nameless children just trying to make a living in a world that didn’t want them. With some children getting trampled under monsters’ feet. With some children watching their parents getting eaten alive. With some child soldiers sent away to fight wars they didn’t understand for governments that never gave a shit about them in the first place. With all those toy soldiers who lost their lives for nothing.
“Jean.”
He covers his ears.
They were supposed to be the good guys. They were supposed to protect humanity from monsters lurking behind the Walls. What the hell happened to the whole lofty idea?
The Wings of Freedom?
Weren’t they supposed to be the symbol of hope? Fighting battles no one else could, even if the whole world was against them? Wasn’t it what he agreed to dedicate his heart to?
They’ll be the ambassadors of peace now, Armin has told him. They’ll join forces with Marley and show the world that only by overcoming mutual hatred and years of bloodshed, it might be possible to rebuild the bridges that were once burnt to the ground.
But how can Jean preach peace with blood on his hands, human ashes beneath his fingernails, screams of thousands of dying still ringing in his ears?
Say Armin, if the only way to destroy the monsters is for one to become a monster, too – is it still a victory for humanity?
His own words come back to haunt him, and Jean lets a strangled gasp leave his mouth.
Do you remember, Jean? During our graduation… We ended up saving the world because of you.
He starts laughing.
Quiet at first and then lauder, and lauder, laud enough to alert every living thing in the area. But he’s not scared of anything living – he realizes with glee that sends him into another violent fit of laughter. He tries covering his mouth with the bleeding, shaking hand and ends up smearing the red liquid on his face.
Oh no, he is not scared of the living. It’s the dead that have it out for him. The dead want to drag him under, deep into the abyss that spreads out below him like the mouth of a hungry beast. But he is not afraid of that either, not anymore. Let them come. Let them bring their armies against him. Armies of headless children, of women and men crushed to a pulp in their beds, of the elderly who never stood a chance, of the friends he sacrificed.
We ended up saving the world because of you.
What world, Connie? Is there really anything like that left? Was there anything like that to begin with?
A sharp stab of pain in his cheek brings him back from the edge.
“Jean!”
There are hands on his shoulders, shaking him firmly enough to make him pay attention. Reiner’s crouched in front of him, worried look on his pale face. Oh, no. Now he made Reiner worried.
As if the man didn’t have enough on his plate already.
“I’m fine,” he says when Reiner’s hands start cradling his face, but he’s still cackling in-between the words. “I mean it. Everything’s okay.”
His voice sounds foreign to his own ears. But it’s brilliant, it’s truly brilliant. He finally has it all figured out. So why does Reiner look so panicked? He should be happy for him, this damned traitor. They are the same, after all.
“Cut the crap, Kirschtein. You’ve always been a shitty liar, but right now you’re going for a record. It’s actually the best of your very few virtues, too. Whatever happens, we can count on you to be honest to a fault. So please, Jean, drop the act. You’re scaring me.”
The air is still, and the silence is sticking its thick fingers into his ears every time Reiner closes his mouth. For a moment Jean feels like they are the last people in the world. The scary thing is, he’s not that far off in this feeling. He lets out another chuckle.
“Jean. Please, talk to me,” Reiner pleads, still holding Jean’s face oh-so gently, as if he was something precious and fragile.
Jean finally covers Reiner’s hands with his own, taking in his pained expression – as if Jean’s sorry state was any fault of his. He’s trying to regain composure and stop himself from erupting into laughter again. So, he focuses on Reiner’s touch and searches his own heart for an answer.
He’s so tired.
“It’s just… I can’t cry.”
“You can’t cry?”
“I’ve been holding it off for some time and… I keep hearing people cry around me, seeing people cry, everyone is pouring their hearts out, and maybe it makes them feel lighter, maybe it doesn’t, but it does seem to make them able to move on, one step at a time, and I… I feel stuck. I’m just standing on the sidelines, watching everyone pass by, like… Like some ghost. Maybe I did die that day, after all. Maybe you’re all just some hallucination I’m having, maybe I’m just here to keep Levi company and make sure he survives his injuries because he can’t die, please, not him, not anyone, not again—”
Jean is being pulled into a hug he only now realizes he longed for. He doesn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around Reiner. For some reason he tries to laugh again, maybe to lift the mood a little, but the sound that leaves his mouth is quiet and pathetic.
“Levi isn't going to die, Jean. Don’t you remember? The doctor said he’s making a speedy recovery, given the circumstances. That bastard is tough as nails, nothing will bring him down.” Reiner’s voice is soft, but it still cuts Jean’s heart wide open. “So, why can’t you cry?”
He doesn’t want to answer, but his lips are moving on their own.
He’s such a pathetic excuse of a man.
“Because I don’t feel like I’m allowed to mourn for him.”
Reiner doesn’t miss a beat.
“For Eren?”
“Can I mourn for him, Reiner?” he asks, his eyes looking for an answer everywhere, but on Reiner’s face. “Or would I be pissing on all those people he killed? All those of us who died trying to secure freedom for future generations? Would mourning for him be equal to disrespecting their memory? What about Hange and Sasha? We’ve lost so many people, Reiner. So many innocent people. And here I am, somehow unable to mourn for them if I don’t include him as well. And he’s the one who killed them all. All those children. He killed them to save us. To save me. I just don’t understand—”
“Jean—”
Jean moves away from him. He takes Reiner by his hands and looks him right into his blood-shot eyes.
“Do you know what I said? When all of that started? When he promised he would destroy the world for us? I said, well, they had been the ones to torment us first. Here come the consequences of their very own actions. I was defending him, Reiner. And earlier? When Sasha had died and Eren just laughed? I was defending him back then, too. I was looking for some sort of an excuse. I couldn’t face the truth, I—”
“You were worried for your friend.”
“I hated him! That fucking suicidal, homicidal maniac. I had been right about him from the very beginning! So… why was I trying to defend him while fighting him at the same time? Why couldn’t I believe he’s a monster even when I was shielding others from his madness? Me, of all people? Me!” He feels a sudden surge of pain and realizes he’s trying to rip his own hair out. He’d probably succeed if it weren’t for Reiner’s hands holding him by the wrists. “Why? Why didn’t we stop that pathetic blockhead? I knew him, I thought I knew him, I saw right through his bullshit every time, so why, why now, now that it mattered the most, why—”
He thinks he’s maybe actually crying now, with how the ground is shaking before his eyes, but then he’s being manhandled by Reiner who turns him around and presses Jean’s back into his own chest. Jean realizes he’s struggling and wheezing weakly.
“Jean, focus. You need to calm down. Try breathing with me, okay? Just like me, come on, please.”
Reiner’s steady breathing reminds him of waves. Of the day they all saw the ocean for the first time. But Reiner is also a steady presence behind his back, just like a rock, and—yes, just like years ago, back in the training, during their first battles, before the inevitable betrayal, Reiner always had had his back.
Jean thinks of Marco’s sweet smile. Thinks of Sasha and the sack of potatoes she stole from the officer’s kitchen once.
Reiner had roasted them in the ashes of a campfire and made sure everyone got a fair share. He smelled of smoke for two days straight after that, taking one for the team as always, and Shadis almost uncovered their little secret. Ah, Shadis. He’s most probably dead too, isn’t he? If not by Zeke’s wine, then by…
“Just like that, very good. Keep breathing, Jean.”
Reiner’s hand keeps moving in gentle circles on his chest, right where his heart used to be, before someone decided to tear it out with no warning.
Suddenly, his face feels wet and warm at the same time.
“Great. I’m finally crying and it’s because of Shadis of all people.”
He feels Reiner smile into the crown of his head. Jean’s a silent crier, usually, and for now he manages to maintain this title. Tears keep streaming down his face, and his throat hurts like hell. But Reiner’s there to hold him, to keep him anchored in reality. Jean can’t go chasing ghosts on his watch.
“I fucking hate him so much.”
“Shadis?”
“Eren!”
“Did you see him in the paths?”
“Y-yeah.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He called me a horseface and I beat the shit out of him as usual. Then he threatened to turn into a pigeon and shit on everything I love, so I bitchslapped him again.”
“And after that?”
“I told him to save the martyr act for someone else because I would never fall for it. And I screamed at him a lot. For what he had done to Mikasa, to Armin, to the whole fucking world. I told him I would never forgive him… And he had the audacity to smile at me, and I begged… I begged him to stop before it was too late for me to save him.”
He’s bawling like a baby his mother has always claimed him to be. Reiner remains the soothing force around him, holding him close and allowing him to pour whatever is left of his soul out.
“And I… I hate him so much, that ugly piece of shit… I wish he was still alive so that I could blow his head up again, and… And I miss him, Reiner. I miss him so much it hurts.” He swallows his tears. “And I hate myself for saying this, but I’m too weak to keep pretending it’s going to be okay. How can it be okay ever again, Reiner? How can it be okay when everyone keeps leaving?”
Reiner presses his face into the back of Jean’s neck.
“You’re not alone. You have Armin and Connie. You have Levi. I’m not going anywhere, either. You have me for as long you want me.”
Jean takes another shuddery breath. He’s dizzy. His hands are really like claws now, like paws of some monstrous creature, all sharp edges and protruding veins, clasped around Reiner’s arms. He can see red marks on the other man’s skin and feels more than guilty. He never intended to drag him into this. Into his own personal hell.
“I don’t like your mother,” he announces finally, deflating in Reiner’s arms, and that earns him a quiet laugh in return.
Reiner has such a nice laugh. Jean feels like he could bask in its warmth forever.
“And why is that? Did you actually have a chance to meet her?”
“No, I’ve never spoken to her in my life. But I think she hurt you a lot. I can see the way you waver in her presence, like a child ready for scolding. So… I don’t like her. And I intend to be blunt about it.”
“Ever so perceptive, eh?” At some point Reiner’s hand decided to stay on his chest, like in an attempt to shield him from any more pain. “That’s fair, I guess.”
Jean doesn’t remember much after that. Just Reiner’s pleasant, comforting voice and his arms still around him, not letting anything or anyone get to him. Dead or alive.
He comes to already in Levi’s tent, his hand bandaged and the captain’s stare fixed on him like on a rabid Titan.
“I’m fine,” he croaks out hurriedly, and Levi responds by throwing a pillow right into his face. Somehow it almost hurts, but is shouldn’t really be surprising, coming from humanity’s strongest soldier.
“You’re an idiot with shit for brains, that’s what you are, Kirschtein,” he says in a flat voice. “Next time you want to throw a tantrum, do it here, so I can knock you out before you hurt yourself, and not have Reiner run after you for miles like a fucking… reindeer.”
Jean pushes himself up into a sitting position. All of his muscles are sore.
“I can’t believe you actually said that.”
“What part.”
“The reindeer one.”
“Ah. Right. Clearly, I’m spending too much time with you. Good grief.”
***
They meet by the campfire, as usual. Jean is more than embarrassed, but at the same time still too tired to overthink. He slumps next to Reiner and offers him some hot tea, and the man pushes something in his direction in return.
“Gabi wanted me to give this to you. For the cookies.”
It’s some plain paper and three pencils that look like they were sharpened with a knife. Probably by Gabi herself. Jean smiles.
“Uh. I wanted to apologize and thank you for yesterday.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“No, really. It was… How did you even manage to haul my ass all the way back here?”
“What do you mean?” Reiner pushes his chest out. “I’ve always been strong and blessed with an above average physique… Ah, now that I think about it, you weren’t present for when a Titan jumped Connie, and I managed to lift it.”
“Wait, what? You lifted a fucking Titan? How big was it?”
“Not that big, three meters tall maybe. I carried it up the stairs and tried to push it out of the window.”
Jean massages his forehead.
“You are insane. You managed to give me a headache in under twenty seconds.”
Reiner’s eyes are filled with some strange, captivating light.
“I had the power of love and friendship on my side. Nothing could stop me back then.”
Jean feels the sudden urge to start drawing with his finger on the ground. Maybe he should draw a dick just to lift his own somber mood a little.
“You don’t have them now?”
“Well, I might have… What I might have, are feelings for you.”
“Like… some negative feelings?” Jean asks after a beat.
“No! I like you. I like you a lot. It’s not that I plan to act on it, don’t worry. Considering what I’ve done… That would be inappropriate. But I wanted to be honest with you. Even Levi noticed, so it wouldn’t do me any good not admitting it any longer.”
“You don’t plan to act on it, huh?” Jean tries to ignore the part about Levi, but his curiosity gets the better of him, as always. “Okay, why the hell have you been talking to Levi about me? You do that often?”
“Well, sometimes. I thought you two were together and wanted to clear the a—”
“You thought I was with Levi?!”
“Shh, stop screaming. It’s not really that strange, you know. You sleep in his tent, help him with everything, you are basically like an old married couple and—”
“Okay, stop this instant. This is definitely too much for one night. I really regret having asked, oh, by the fucking Walls… But now it all starts to make sense. How awkward you were around me at first. How you were trying to distance yourself.” Jean hides his head in his hands, too embarrassed to live any longer.
Even without looking at him, he knows Reiner is red.
“You just care about Levi so much, and he cares about—” he starts again, but Jean doesn’t want to hear a word of it.
“What about your crush on Historia?”
“Well… She’s married and with child, isn’t she?”
Touché. Jean allows silence to keep them company for a while. This time it’s Reiner who breaks it – even if he stubbornly keeps staring into the distance and not at Jean.
“I’m sorry if I upset you again.”
“You didn’t. It’s just… I’m pondering the fact that you are the very first person to have a crush on me.”
“It’s… not really a crush, Jean.”
“Man, you’re not making any sense! Do you like me or not?”
“As I said, I do. A lot. So it’s not just a crush.”
Oh.
Oh.
“You’re also the first person I’ve ever told that.”
“Okay, this one I don’t believe, Reiner. You were the most popular boy in the entire Cadet Corps. You must have had a dozen of girlfriends, the ladies were always flocking after you. Me and Connie—”
“Well, that’s true. But Historia was the only girl I paid attention to. Ever,” he says quickly and clears his throat. “So… You and Mikasa?”
“Me and Mikasa what, exactly?”
“Are you still in love with her?”
Jean thinks carefully about his response.
“I… I do love her. I care about her deeply. But I don’t know if... I doubt she wants to see me ever again. Not when I was the one to tell her we had to kill the actual love of her life. Maybe if she were here, I could—”
“Don’t do that, Jean.”
“Huh?”
Reiner looks angry all of the sudden.
“I don’t want you to be somebody’s second choice. You’re not a consolation prize. You’re a hero. You saved this world. You deserve to be someone’s priority. I don’t want you to live in anyone’s shadow and, especially, not in Eren’s shadow. That’s just disrespectful.”
“Reiner—”
“I mean it. You are not less important than some scarf and a memory of a boy who turned out to be different than we all had thought. If you allow yourself to be treated this way, I’ll… I don’t know, I’ll hunt you down. You can’t do that to yourself, Jean, you just can’t. Whoever you are with, they have to know how lucky they are.”
Jean can feel his face burning. He hasn’t heard Reiner speak with this kind of passion in years.
“I… I honestly don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s time for some cattle joke.”
“No, Jean. I’m serious. It’s great chasing dreams, but some dreams will turn into nightmares if you’re willing to overlook too much.”
Jean thinks back to the Rumbling and to the little fantasy world he created in his head. Peace and quiet, good bourbon in his hand. Mikasa and their child. Back then he didn’t feel any satisfaction because the real world was about to be destroyed, and he was desperately trying to tune this fact out. Pretend not to hear. Pretend not to see. His dream was suffocating him. But now? Why isn’t he feeling any satisfaction now? He did everything he could, after all. Isn’t he free to at least try to get what he always wanted?
He feels Reiner getting ready to stand up, so he holds him firmly by his sleeve.
“Where do you think you’re going? I’m cold,” he grumbles and settles his head on Reiner’s shoulder. “I gave you my blanket, remember? At least be decent enough to share the warmth… Also, I want to try something. Can I try something?”
The man looks at him questioningly, so Jean decides to make a move. He presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes for a moment.
He wonders if Reiner’s more after Jean’s forgiveness than after Jean himself. Thinks about all those little things they have in common. Crappy fathers, overbearing mothers, dead best friends, nightmares that will never cease to haunt them.
He places his hands on Reiner’s cheeks and traces them with his fingertips.
Jean thinks about that rainy day in Marley, when he stood next to Reiner, holding his hand in front of the funeral pyre. He felt other people’s heavy gaze on his back and couldn’t have cared less. Because at the same time he felt like he slotted into a place where he had belonged from the very beginning.
He would have been fucking furious, he realizes now, if anyone else had taken his place at Reiner’s side that day. Or any other day, for that matter.
Jean thinks about Mikasa. About what it would mean for him to leave Reiner behind after everything they shared during the last weeks. It doesn’t feel good and it doesn’t feel right. Jean doesn’t know what exactly has changed, but he can’t imagine leaving Reiner on his own. Even if the older man doesn’t seem to be a prisoner of his self-destructive tendencies anymore, Jean wants to keep him safe.
He thinks about his own panic attack from the night before. Mikasa wasn’t at his side. She had gone away, to tend to her wounds and to deal with her grief the only way she found acceptable – alone. And Jean respects that. A lot, in fact. He would love to be as independent and strong as her.
But, he’s different. At the end of the day, he needs someone by his side. Someone who will help him pick up the pieces of a broken teacup. Someone who will force some stale crackers into him. Does that really make him weak?
Is he weak if he wants someone to need him, too?
Jean opens his eyes to Reiner waiting for him. There are no expectations on his face, just gentle curiosity.
Reiner tastes like the unsweetened black tea they’ve been drinking all evening.
Mere seconds later Jean finds himself pinned to the ground, sand in his hair, Reiner’s burning weight on top of him, and it feels like homecoming. Jean kisses him almost feverishly, his legs bracketing Reiner’s hips and holding him close, Reiner’s hands tirelessly roaming his body in return. Their groins brush against each other, and Jean almost growls.
“Take me to your tent, right the fuck now,” he says into Reiner’s mouth, his voice hoarse beyond repair.
“Yeah, please do. I’m literally puking and shitting rainbows out here,” Levi’s flat voice coming from the tent behind them causes them to freeze. “It’s the second fucking time you two disturbed my sleep while getting physical, and even if it’s good to know Kirschtein is no longer phantom-dating the other Ackerman, I’d appreciate some peace and quiet. So, go fuck somewhere else or I’ll show you how much damage I can still inflict when motivated enough.”
Jean gasps, and Reiner chuckles into his neck before placing a soft kiss to his jaw.
“Let’s go, darling,” he murmurs before standing up and pulling Jean to his feet as well. “Captain’s orders.”
Reiner is flushed, his hair in disarray, eyes sparkling, and it’s such a hot look on him, Jean almost loses his head right there and then. And Reiner smiles at him, in that easy, yet slightly wolfish way, his lips puffed from how Jean kept them occupied and—okay, Jean is now sporting the most uncomfortable boner ever.
He grabs Reiner’s hand and almost sets them running – as far away from Levi as possible. Reiner eventually steers them in the direction of his tent, but Jean stops him at the entrance, placing his hand on the older man’s chest.
“Thank you,” he says, almost breathlessly. “For making me feel like I’m not a second choice to you. I hope you know you aren’t that to me, either.”
Reiner blinks.
“Jean, I—”
“Because you’re the right choice.”