[ snapshots from the 104th ]; jean, armin (spam/log)

[jeankirschstein]

[ achoo!

jean can't sleep. this is normal; with tensions running so high this close to graduation day, it's a wonder that any given member of the 104th can manage a good night's rest. even the top cadets—they know who they are—must be feeling it, teetering on the edge. no one is safe. no one is immune.

some surely feel the pressure more than others. jean would like to think he's one of them, given that he's put everything at stake to not only make it out of training alive, but into the military police in the process. into the inner wall...where he can finally relax for a change, take it easy.

that won't be happening tonight. he knew that long before his sneezing stirred the other restless bodies surrounding him, snot trickling from his nose while they mutter in complaint. screw 'em. if he has to suffer out here in the cold, why shouldn't they?

for that matter, what's up with having to be out here in the first place? it'd be one thing if jean's eyes were set on joining the hijinks of the reconnaissance legion in the near future, but that hardly applies to him, let alone the majority of his fellow trainees. most, he figures, probably have their sights set on the garrison. maybe there are a scant few who share his ambitions, though whether or not they're actually up to the job remains to be seen. jean knows he is. he has to be, or it all ends here.

and what a way to end it! trampling about through the frigid, winter air, huddling like mice around an abandoned outpost—who's to say that an eoten or twelve won't stumble upon them in the dead of night, anyway? what good is a little campout a few miles from the wall going to teach anyone about survival, or the rages of war? they'd be better off just tearing the roof off the barracks and leaving it at that, honestly. at least jean would be in better company.

he doesn't know anyone around here. some of his friends were pulled off into tightly-knit (and largely unnecessary, in jean's eyes) patrols hours ago, or dragged to stand watch while the rest of the group settled down for the evening. it'd be nice if jean had been hand-picked for any of those, but of course, he's left both overlooked and to his own devices. is he not good enough, try as he might? he may be no ackerman—beautiful, beautiful ackerman—but that shouldn't mean he'll never get his own chance to shine. ]

To hell with this— [ jean's up in a flourish, much to the complaint of everyone else still struggling to get warm, far from the fires that dot along the outpost. if he can't silently sulk down the long, long road to slumber, then he may as well be up and at it, roaming the campsite like he would be if he were on more familiar ground, with familiar faces at his side to play hooky with him rather than be driven insane by a cacophony of snores in the dark. the girls' dorm doesn't have it that bad, do they?

there are others like him who think they have better things to do in their downtime than catch forty winks. many can be found merely talking amongst themselves, while others nervously peer at their surroundings, not wholly convinced they're going to be safe from an eoten attack. jean isn't, either, but he has faith in the regulars who are keeping peace around here. as long as they and the patrollers are doing their duty, then there's little to fear. it's when daylight shines upon them that they should be at their most afraid, according to what their everyday lessons have taught them.

not in much of a mood to be simply chewing the fat, jean has a grander scheme in mind as he continues his walk. he's half-hoping he'll be able to catch the eye of someone he recognizes among the guard, maybe play a round of cards or two, steal a drink to warm his bones that no one will notice, not this late in the day. it'd be far more effective than the scrap that's supposed to pass for a cloak clinging to him, hand-me-downs from the cadets who survived before him, and before that. can't even afford to give their ready-to-die young soldiers equipment well and truly up to date, can they...? ]

Comments

[arminarlert]

[ exhausted would be way too generous of a word to use for the way armin was feeling. cold came close to first place, but at least that was keeping him from falling asleep, though only enough to squint tiredly through blond lashes that threaten to weigh his eyelids down at any given moment.

truth be told, his friends weren't faring any better, peering at them from the corner of his eye as they stood firmly at their posts. both eren and mikasa had dark circles under their eyes, no doubt from how much extra time and effort they've used on training to graduate. armin felt much of the same, spending one too many nights with his eyes wide open, heartbeat pounding rapidly in his chest after yet another nightmare of falling behind, getting separated from the two most important people in his life.

that couldn't happen. it couldn't. he needed to be with them, and armin would like to think that the sentiments were shared.

it's these thoughts that are helping keep him upright for the most part, or else he'd be curled up on the ground sleeping. how were his friends able to stand there like that without so much as blinking an eye? the only movement that had been made over the course of several hours were short glances at armin every now and then, giving him a look that's something shared between them and only them. the silent means of communication was comforting, and it successfully gave armin more strength to last at least a little while longer.

you can sleep, y'know. eren's voice snapped him back to reality, blinking rapidly in surprise before his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment from being caught. ]

I'm okay. [ offers them a smile, overlooking the concerned expressions they were directing towards him. ] Don't worry, I'll be fine.

[ that was a pretty lame attempt at trying to ease their concerns, he can see it written all over their faces. it only takes them another second or two to decide on closing the small distance between them, coming up on either side of armin to help him sit down, following suit so that they're all huddled close together.

the gesture is sweet, armin opening his mouth to say much of the same despite it being unnecessary, but he's stopped by mikasa unraveling the scarf tightly circling her neck, clamping his mouth shut once the red material is wrapped around him.

you're cold. a simple statement from the normally silent cadet, sitting still as mikasa makes a few more adjustments until she's satisfied. a strong, warm arm around his shoulders and hand to his head keeps armin from any other protests he might have made, taking comfort in the weight of eren's cheek resting on the crown of his own.

we'll take shifts, okay? mikasa nods to eren's statement, shifting about until she's mirroring him. we'll wake you up when it's time.

a small part of armin wanted to say no, they should be the ones sleeping, not him, not when they've done so much for him already, yet he's unable to voice these thoughts once his eyes are closed and his body is relaxing fully.

it'll only be for a little while, his subconscious weakly echoes, though the warmth he feels radiating from his friends would be enough to make him sleep for hours on end, if given the opportunity. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ indoors, jean decides, would be a great place to skulk through right about now. sure, it'd be less colorful, but also far less frigid, which is starting to get to him more than he thought it was going to.

shit. how can he endure the eotens if he can barely manage a night in the cold?

he's trying to make peace with the thought of lying down in the darkened, decrepit outpost, besieged by cobwebs and broken-down furnishing and who knows what else, when he shoulders his way on into a gathering at one of the smaller fires for a time. jean still wonders how he hasn't managed to run into any of his usual companions—it's true that the corps has dwindled, what with so many either dropping out or unable to carry on at the thought of the real dangers they'll be facing soon, but it's remained a fair size, supposedly one of the largest graduating groups to date.

admittedly, he only has half an ear on the current conversation. the rest is straining to pick up particular voices above the throng, if not any of signs of attack, or needing to pack up and move along early. he wouldn't put it past their superiors to suddenly give everyone a change of pace, force them to march when they're dead on their feet, as cockamamie of an idea as it is to be out here at all.

it's after he's drunkenly passed a mug of swill that looks foul and smells even worse that jean determines it's time to scram. he'll find no peace here this evening. then again, at this rate, he's not going to find it anywhere, never will until the graduation ceremony determines his fate.

closer now to the outer perimeter, he's seeing small clusters of bodies who are moving in and out. is it time for a shift change already...? can't be, or else there'd be more people stumbling to get out of there as soon as possible, back to a safe space where they can curl up to rest. are there multiple watches? after so many years of training, a lot of the finer points of military life sail right over jean's head, much to his frustration. he's trying, dammit. ]

[arminarlert]

[ it's the slight shuffling he hears that stirs him awake, although it's done slowly, carefully, as if he were a baby animal with sleep still heavy on their lids.

how long had he been out for...? no matter, right now he's focused on waking up a bit more, just in case he has to shake his now-sleeping friends awake and clumsily stand to attention if it happens to be someone other than another cadet. the figure isn't one he can make out from this distance, so he cranes his neck out a fraction, peering out curiously from behind eren's head.

squinting a bit, armin blinks lazily, perplexed yet intrigued over who he thinks he's spotted. ]

Jean? [ it comes out more of a whisper than anything, clearing his throat so he can speak up a bit louder this time: ] Jean, what are you doing out here?

[ last armin heard he wasn't anywhere near their post. did they let him go already? he can't guess what the time must have been, but he couldn't have slept that long, right? if anything, mikasa would have shot right up when the time was right. she's always been good at doing that. ]

[jeankirschstein]

Huh? [ wait a second. ] Whoa, you're—

[ arlert, obviously. top of the class—on an intellectual level, at least—always attached to the hip of that damn jaeger, or ever-beautiful mikasa.

wait. mikasa? is that what jean was doing over here? to get a glimpse of her? he can't even remember, so sidetracked that his feet have steered him to this very spot without a mind of their own. he's too cold to care, sneezing again before he can get out a more appropriate greeting. he knows who armin is. duh. who doesn't?. ]

Hey, sorry. [ the apology's blurted out there to make him look like less of a fool than he likely already does, all runny nose and flushed face from the wretched drink he should've just spit out into the dirt, but didn't.

as for the question, that should be plain as day; if it were any other trainee, jean'd be more than happy to give them a piece of his mind on that, frozen and frazzled though he is. since it's armin, however, he's more inclined to slow his roll, be just a touch gentler than he might on anyone else. they all do that, consciously or otherwise, lest they face jaeger's unchecked wrath or ackerman's icy stare, a side of her that jean wishes to see as little as possible. shudder from that more than the air, he sniffles, shrugs, looks out from their post to the rest of the guard who are more or less in a similarly befuddled, drowsy state. [

Not much for watchdogs, are we? We could get stomped at anytime... [ jean doesn't mean to be pessimistic, but it is what it is. he tries to stay a step or two away from the group, faintly agitated at jaeger being right there whilst also aching to get a glimpse of ackerman's angelic sleeping face. damn, he can't see her from here...only armin, who looks like he could drop at any second. ]

[arminarlert]

[ stomped at? when jean's words finally hit him, armin sits more upright, careful to not knock both eren and mikasa away.]

Ah, right! [ looks a bit flustered and lost for half a second, uncertain of how he's going to move. it's with much time and practice does he know how to situate his two friends from the cocoon they've made for armin, thankful that they readily comply and end up leaning elsewhere while still in their half-asleep state.

it takes him a minute, but armin's up again, tugging at the red scarf around his neck to wrap it in more firmly. the cold hits him faster than he'd like, unable to hide the long shiver that courses through his body, arms tucking themselves firmly under the cloak that provides little to no shelter from the icy weather. ]

... [ armin now realizes that without eren and mikasa around, he hasn't really have much one-on-one contact with any of the other cadets. it's always the three of them tromping around, loathe to wander away from their small pack for too long, but this would be as good of an opportunity as any to practice the social skills that he currently lacks.

besides, jean had never been a mean person, right? sure, he could be hardheaded and resemble that of a lovesick puppy whenever he was in the presence of mikasa, but armin's certain he's a good guy through and through.

... and obviously cold, which wasn't helping their situation much. it at least assisted armin in forgetting any lingering awkwardness, though he's once again at a loss, looking from jean to the scarf before his fingers inch towards it, unraveling a side before approaching him further. ]

You could catch a cold out here. [ offers the other side of the scarf, offering the man a small, encouraging smile. ] There's more than enough room for you.

[ to huddle, that is. it's a standard means of warmth when it's freezing outside, recalling all the books he's read about the human body, how it's best to pile together with other humans if the temperature isn't to their favor. armin mentally flips through said texts he's gone over more times than he could count, looking for other ways to appease jean if he happens to refuse. ]

GRADUATION DAY

[jeankirschstein]

[ after a particular training exercise in the dead of winter, jean makes it a point to avoid—along with anyone associated with him—a certain fellow member of the 104th corps. he's thanked his lucky stars ever since that night that eren jaeger hasn't come a-running to bust him in the jaw, or screwed his theoretical chances with the brat's foster sister. even so, the further that jean stays away, the better. it's been hard to get the idea out of his head of what it feels like to pressed up against a warm body, one that doesn't involve connie elbowing him in the face in the barracks or one of his...closer friends unknowingly crossing a few lines when he curls up close late at night. jean can hardly blame the guy for that, but it twists his insides up in ways he'd prefer to avoid thinking about it.

just like with armin. now jean can't stop himself from getting tongue-tied every time the boy manages to pass him by. it'd figure that he doesn't remember a lick of that awkwardly-arranged evening, left only with stiff limbs and leaky nostrils when he greeted the dawn, his savior of sorts nowhere to be found. it took until midday and a return to the training grounds for jean to get the pieces to his uniform back. armin never found who it was from.

what's wrong with him? it's almost as if jean has a schoolboy crush, which should be next to impossible considering—

thoughts like these and more continue to keep him up at night. graduation day draws nearer and nearer, as do jean's anxieties, longing to be out of this place. the sooner he can join the police, the sooner the weight will take flight from his shoulders, and he'll never have to worry about his life being in imminent danger ever again. he'll be safe from the eotena far inside the walls, taking it easy with friends new and old. jean's meant for great things, he knows it.

this makes the anticipation of where he stands in the graduating class downright terrible. no matter how many reassurances he's given, jean remains a nervous wreck when time's up for the 104th, and the trainees graduate tonight. tonight. tonight they'll be soldiers, tonight they'll be sorted rank and file and ready to clash with the titanic terrors lurking outside the wall head-on. a nerve-wracking notion unto itself, when combined with the rest of what plagues jean, it's utterly devastating. he can't stop pacing the parade grounds in his free time, snaps and stutters when spoken to, slumps over his meager meals and can't bring himself to rise to the occasion when marco thumps his shoulder, says it'll be okay, they'll be going into the police together. jean wishes that comforted him more than it does.

it's almost relieving to be a part of the crew that gets slammed with the nightly dishes, stumbling toward the kitchens with full arms and an array of fellow grumbling cadets. there's nothing for it when they all get to work, and jean forces all the breath out from his lungs in a heavy sigh, trying to force his tensions to go along with it. he'll have to get ready for the ceremony after this, and it's best to face it with a clear head, especially if rejection from the top ten of the class is nigh. ]

[arminarlert]

[ oh, if only jean knew how much said boy remembers about that evening.

armin isn't stupid, though. he's well aware that it must have been uncomfortable for the other teen, to be pressed together like that with someone he barely knew or even considered as a close comrade, a brother in arms. that's to be expected, what with armin sticking to eren and mikasa like glue and never really venturing past those bonds, but jean's sincerity and determination that cold night was hard to ignore. following along just came naturally, after all, and with someone as brash and hardheaded as jean around, it was hard to not go with the flow.

but was it worth the moment of happiness and comfort? even if armin was good at reading any given situation, he's still a little shaky on interacting with those that aren't his childhood friends, slowly yet surely working up to reading people more easily. was jean embarrassed of what he did? maybe disgusted by armin's naive trust?

he doesn't know, but he really wants to find out.

that's what's going through his mind when they're finished eating and his gaze happens to land on the aforementioned member of the 104th. the wheels in his head are turning as the troops are groaning and complaining over who got chosen for cleanup duty, waiting, watching, wondering... ]

... [ although armin had no part in the dishwashing adventures, the sight of jean going in that direction stirs something inside of him, barely picking up on his own voice telling eren and mikasa to go on ahead, that he'll catch up and see the two of them in due time. it took a bit of convincing (and a little fibbing on his part), but soon enough armin's rolling up his sleeves and heading towards the kitchen, approaching jean's left side in silence. it's only until he dunks his hands into the water does he address the other, smiling brightly up at him. ]

Hey. [ lifts one of the plates up from the pile of foam below, reaching for something to clean it off with. ] Long time no see, stranger.

[ well, not literally, but having a one-on-one interaction with jean after their night of huddling was nonexistent. armin's still uncertain if he was ever disappointed in this matter, or that it just didn't pass his mind until recently. it doesn't really matter, not at the moment. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ people come and go through the kitchens all the time. this isn't jean's first foray into cleanup duty, so he knows what to expect, hardly spares a thought towards those who sneak in front of him, behind, any which way. his concentration is on the task at hand, though it's far from absolute; too often he's handed back a plate he's so vigorously scrubbed only to be shown how many spots he's missed, that he needs to try again. it fuels jean's fire, scrubbing all the harder, making more mistakes. he's off his game tonight.

so it is that he's more than a little twitchy when something brushes against his already pruny fingertips in hours-old water that's seen better days. it takes herculean effort not to yelp, and a further one still when someone's at his side in turn. no, it isn't... ]

Uh— [ eloquence will never be jean's strongest suit, in full display here. ] L-long time no—uh—aah... [ normally he'd have a good comeback for this one, but when it's armin he's facing, everything goes blank, as per usual. jean continues to stumble for answer, jaw dropped, eyes rolling to the ceiling to escape that blindingly bright smile, before giving up altogether and clenching his teeth as he resumes work. ] Y-yeah, long...

[ it's not a smooth recovery. ]

[arminarlert]

[ ah, that was a response armin had only been half-hoping to hear. so he really must be feeling some negative whiplash from their time together. was it really that bad...?

his smile drops just a fraction, fighting with himself to think of how to approach such a topic. if jean really is deciding to go a different path than armin's thinking about taking, then he'd rather not leave whatever kind of awkward air about them hanging in space for the rest of eternity. ]

How... have you been? [ he's tense in the shoulders, working at a snail's pace on the current item he has between his hands, but at least he's trying. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ if only armin knew what's actually going on. not all of it is due to him, although his proximity to jean is definitely not helping matters any...

jean swallows thickly. he needs a couple of attempts to form a complete sentence, desperately trying not to knock elbows with armin, which doesn't really work. ]

H-hanging in there. S'all any of us can do, right...?

[ everyone is, after all, eagerly awaiting their judgement at the end of the evening, to see if they've fit the criteria for stepping into the army. unlike many nervously sweating soldiers-to-be, jean's not preoccupied with that so much as he is ensuring he'll be placed among the best of the best. he doesn't know what he'll do if he has to sit in the garrison, or worse, be booted to reconnaissance as eoten fodder... ]

TROST: PRE-BATTLE

[arminarlert]

[ they liked his idea. they really, really liked his idea!

for the first time in armin's life, he's felt a sense of pride and self-worth, a lift to his spirit that had been all but crushed only a handful of hours prior. the strength he mustered up for his friends seemed to stabilize him, keep him from falling apart at such a critical moment in their lives. he wanted to run away, far away, perhaps escape to the outside world and keep his promise with eren, explore the sights, the ocean, and walk hand-in-hand with him and mikasa on the beach. it's one of the things that had flashed in his mind when he thought he'd be shot on the spot, guiltily hoping that he had more happy memories with the three of them that he could have focused on instead of a wish that's yet to be fulfilled.

and now here he was, alive and well and rushing off to resupply while he had the chance to. the others were going over his plans for the moment, shooing the boy to take care of his gear and tanks before they got started. armin thinks he's got a little time to spare in between to plot out a second plan of action, just in case something happens and things fall apart again...

even with that on his mind, armin's smiling brightly as he takes a seat nearest to all the supplies and gadgets that'll help him complete his task, fumbling only briefly with the straps that attach the 3DMG to his body before he gets to work. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ the greatest hope for humanity is absolutely the last thing—no, person—jean had expected.

he's had a lot take in over the last hour or so. this has been his first taste of war, and he hasn't even seen true combat yet, not really. compared to some of his squadmates and the shrieking soldiers surrounding, he's trying his utmost not to let it show how shaken up he still is inside. one successful mission doesn't guarantee he'll be able to survive the next, no matter how much of an emphasis is placed on staying out of the fray. will they really be able to manage that? will they really be able to buy enough time for him to save the day?

it leaves a foul taste in jean's mouth. he already had enough of a bone to pick with jaeger, eren jaeger, before this new development made his head spin. an eoten? he's one of them? impossible—and yet jean saw it with his own eyes, heard the rebuttals with his own ears, heart still pounding at the passion which rang loudly through the outer fringes of trost. that was almost as difficult to swallow as it was to see who eren had become, what he could do, all for entirely different reasons.

so much for thinking he'd never lay eyes on armin again, a boy he didn't even start to notice in...more interesting ways until it was too late. yet here they are, still in the same city, if not working towards different goals. it's doubtful that they'll be involved in the same task force, not when they have different goals to achieve. there's no way he'll be clinging to eren's side—all the better, considering—given their plans, and given that it's practically impossible for the guy to hold his own in combat. if jean barely could, how can armin, who's so much smaller, so not as strong?

but jean's no pillar of strength, either, looking back on what he's done today. he curses under his breath as he weaves through the crowd; he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be here when he's got a team to report to and a job to do, but he has to see armin. this time it might really be the last they see each other, if one of them falls.

someone's probably going to fall. maybe even eren, for all that jean knows. wouldn't that be ironic, losing their savior as soon as they reluctantly embraced him? ]

[arminarlert]

[ for as much as armin is concentrating on his task at hand, it's surprising that he notices jean at all, let alone look up from shakily unhinging the gear at his sides.

his heart skips a beat, eyes widening, unblinking.

is that— ]

Jean... [ it comes off as a soft whisper at first, slowly letting go of the gas tank he was currently filling. a feeling of desperation bubbles inside of his chest, threatening to overtake him. the emotions coursing through him almost bleeds tears from his eyes, though he's unsure as to why. so he swallows hard, standing up and starting to run towards the person in question. ] Jean!

[jeankirschstein]

[ an armful of armin may or may not be the next-to-last of jean's expectations, but it ranks pretty lowly down there. that's not to say it isn't...unwelcome, not initially—though it is something he struggles to process at first, unable to tell who's barreled into him or why. he thought he'd done a fairly good job of making it over here accident-free, save for a person or two he probably tripped up along the way. ]

Hah...? [ who, who? is it—perhaps— ] Whoa, Armin—

[ that went a lot easier than expected. now if only jean could find it in him to put the boy down, he's be able to stammer out what brought him here in the first place, if he can find the nerve to do that, too. now that he's got a spare second to think about it, it's a really stupid thing, isn't it? to compliment someone you're barely acquainted with when there's no time, when there's a job to do and a bratty eoten-shifter to back up.

yeah, maybe he should have stayed put, but there's no turning back now. ]

[arminarlert]

[ if armin is asked later over the hows and whys of this situation, he sure as hell won't be able to put two and two together, not when he's still shaken and still overpowered by the seriousness of everything that's transpired.

so he's not ashamed of the way he clings to jean like he's a lifeline, ignoring the fact that they aren't even that close to begin with, at least not as close as he is to other people. still, there's something about seeing him in particular that's comforting, calming, and making him feel safer than he had been before. ]

Sorry... [ half-laughs into jean's chest, nose buried further into him when he shakes his head, peering up at the other once he's got himself under control. ] I'm just—

[ how can he describe this feeling? he figures out sooner than later that he can't possibly put it into words, giving up to instead lean into the other boy again, letting out a long, shaky sigh of relief. ]

TROST: SOME TIME AFTER

[jeankirschstein]

[ found and burned to ashes all in the same day. if nothing else, jean has to give the military credit for its efficiency.

he can barely walk straight as he turns away from the mutual pyre to scrub the stains of tears off of his face. he's got no business in acting like this, he's a soldier, now—this is what's happened ever since humanity learned their grim reminder. death is no stranger to humanity as a whole, and jean, of all people, should know that as well as anyone else.

yet the tears won't stop falling, and he can't bring himself to mention why, throat still seized from the sight he saw earlier in the day, and because, isn't it obvious? maybe he and private bodt weren't as close as some of the trainees from the 104th had been, but that doesn't mean his loss isn't devastating. far from it; jean's so shaken up that he can't tell left from right, let alone reason what it is that's stirred him so. losing friends is never an easy thing. to lose marco, however...

before he knows it, jean's crouched in the dirt again, apart from the gathering, clutching at one of his own hands to will it to stop shaking. he's a nervous wreck, moreso than the chaos in trost that brought this upon him, moreso than seeing his first eoten, more than inadvertently leading other young men and women into war. there's little else to do than sit there quietly and weep, praying that the sight of marco's rotten and diminished corpse won't haunt him behind his eyelids when next they close. at least when he saw his comrades getting devoured alive, he didn't have to spare a thought to their remains.

his nose itches at the memory of so much more rot and decay in the ruins of trost. his home, this was his home, and what's left of it now? the walls may be sealed, but at what cost? was it really worth so much sacrifice to bide humanity just a bit more time in fighting back?

jean doesn't have the answers for that. he just wants his friend back: to say all the things he never got a chance to, and perhaps to rethink some others, see marco in a different light that he never got around to doing. it's funny how death brings a whole slew of things to the surface that jean otherwise never would have considered. now that marco's gone...there's so much, not only between them, but in the horrifying world around them that makes so much sense now. jean's far from being ready to determine if that's a blessing or a burden.

a wiser man might say it's a mixture of both. ]

[arminarlert]

[ armin wanted to believe that it was over, that everything was now settled and in its rightful place. but he knows better than that, refusing to step into a realm of delusion that so many have done after the course of so many fights, so much bloodshed...

the boy is doing his best to keep calm, keep steady, and do little else but hiccup once in a while as they all bid a farewell to their comrades. it's only when jean speaks up does he pull himself together, listening intentively. he doesn't know why, but it has him tearing up again, much more than before, clutching at his shirt to will away the pain that burns inside of his chest.

he doesn't say anything, though. no, not here, not when jean is giving it his all, saying his part while he has the chance. armin will wait until he walks away, quickly scrubbing at his face before following along silently, making sure he keeps a safe distance away in case he chickens out or simply leaves him be for the remainder of the evening. besides, weren't they supposed to talk after everything was said and done? maybe now isn't the best time to prod jean about what he wanted to say to him, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that armin wants to listen to him, to maybe offer some sort of comfort if he's able to.

his walk comes to a halt at the sight of jean hunched over, making himself seem much smaller than he actually is. a flash of a memory hits the back of armin's mind, snapshots of when he would do the same to comfort himself, to will away anything that was causing distress or pain.

it's the final straw in what has him moving forward again, not bothering to be light on his feet this time around. he wants jean to know that he's there, after all, and he makes sure he's close enough to the soldier once he's squatting down next to him, arms wrapped around his own legs. he'll wait there like that for a while, knowing that jean needs to get the tears out of his system, at least enough to speak without it being too difficult. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ delivering his one and only speech of the night (that he's convinced not enough people bothered to even hear) has really taken its toll on jean. any other words he'd normally have had are long since gone, replaced by a thickness that he can't entirely swallow away. no excuses were made during his retreat, and no questions answered. everyone probably knows already, deep down, anyway.

so many bones are being seared in front of their eyes. in spite of leaving the scene, jean can still see that, too, still wonders which of them had belonged to marco, or if he'd be able to single them out after staring into the fire for long enough. a small, selfish part of him wishes that he could join him; they were supposed to enter the military police together, escape this bothersome bedlam together, laugh as they thrived safely within the inner walls whilst lending aid wherever they could. the latter part was more of marco's idea, though jean saw no need to protest. he's not so self-centered that he wouldn't defend king and country if it came down to it, or simply his fellow man.

but they can't do anything together anymore, can they? never again.

the worst part—or one of them—is that jean doesn't even know how he did. there was plenty of marco left intact to speculate that he wasn't torn apart by a set of titanic teeth, though that's not to say it couldn't have been part of what had done him in. was it sabotage by a fellow soldier? a mere accident, given the rubble that surrounded him? there's no telling what the real secret is behind his demise, so there's no rhyme or reason for any manner of vengeance on jean's part, no oaths sworn to exterminate every eoten or anything of the sort. it's a shame, as it leaves him with no place to direct all of his anger and sorrow. instead, it turns within, which might explain how crippled he's currently feeling.

all of these, of course, are observations that will dawn on him in due time, but not now. now is for continuing to spill himself onto the earth, well-aware of the telltale footsteps of someone approaching (though not who), and tuning their presence out thereafter to continue wallowing in his grief. in a few minutes, they'll hopefully get the idea and leave him be, whoever they are. it's not as if jean's earned himself fans to have anyone rushing to his beck and call to comfort him—surely not. he's helped some of the other graduates weather the storm, that's all. nothing to write home about or earn him any medals, any compatriots on marco's level who would stick with him through thick and thin. or so jean thinks. ]

[arminarlert]

[ little does jean know that he does have an admirer, or at least someone who wants to be by his side, if he'd allow it.

though how does armin get his point across? how can he express himself without words, without gestures that could potentially be overstepping some boundaries? if it were eren or mikasa, he'd already be clinging on to them, stroking their hair, doing the things that they've done for him countless times before. there's no awkwardness amongst the trio, just unconditional love that's so foreign outside of their group of three. is it alright if armin decides to extend that to four, even if it's just on his own?

they're not thoughts he should be having at this moment, yet it briefly overcomes his thoughts until he's pushing it away, putting all of his focus back onto jean.

so. where does he go from here? he can't just grab him or give another silly pat to the head, can he? armin's lost in how to give comfort to someone like jean, a friend that he's not entirely sure he's close to just yet to use actions instead of words. still, the one thing that comes to mind is that and nothing more, slowly, carefully leaning against jean's side, tilting his head just enough to gently lean his head on his shoulder. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ it takes far, far too long for jean to stop being something of a sobbing, shaking mess. the first one is slowly being solved by itself when no more tears can force themselves out of painfully-drying eyes for now, try as he might. this prompts a sniffle and a snort here and there, to no avail when it does nothing to relieve his plugged nostrils. at a loss, jean settles for wiping himself on a jacket sleeve instead. no one will notice, and even if they do, he'll tend to it in the morning. he's hardly in a mood to care about overall cleanliness for the time being.

the rest of his body, however, is far from steady. armin will have to forgive him if his first instinct is to wobble away, only to collide back into him a millisecond later, still trembling, still looking as though he's going to keel over into the dirt at any moment. were he totally alone, he might do just that, pass out with an army of ants tickling at his face for a spell. he'd be one step closer to marco, once they spread out all of the remaining ashes.

ah, marco. that nearly threatens the floodgates to open anew, but now that jean knows there's another warm body next to him, it heightens the personal priority to not fall apart for a third time. his recovery of sorts will continue to be gradual, though steady; he isn't crying anymore, at least, and after a few more minutes, maybe he'll be able to muster up the nerve to say something, or politely shuffle away from armin, because there's no need for that.

it is armin, isn't it? the frame isn't delicate enough to be christa's—what would she even want to do with jean—yet he can't really think of anyone else who's just as diminutive, so it has to be him. but why? if the boy's looking for casual conversation, he's better off seeking it elsewhere, as jean's in no condition for it currently. moving his limbs is going to enough of a chore as it is, and to do more is simply out of the question until he's managed to pull it together completely. if he ever does. ]

THE 57TH EXPEDITION

[jeankirschstein]

[ this isn't good. it's not good at all.

before he'd left the walls—much farther than any training exercise has ever taken him—jean had many expectations. this wasn't one of them, not when the older members of the reconnaissance legion have been so keen on keeping everyone under their wings. the eoten threat, they'd said, would probably be minimal at best. if not, that's what their flares are for, to warn of any oncoming danger, to let the veterans handle it while the rest of them prove themselves.

granted, this isn't the sort of proving jean thought he'd have to do. not against a creature who's so...abnormal from the rest of them, at any rate. it's nothing like the ones he's seen atop the walls and far away from the action, or in trost, for that matter. he can't put his finger on it, shaken up as he already is, but there's more to the titan on the battlefield here than meets the eye, and it has little to do with its (her...?) physique.

but there's no time for speculations. already swatted away once before, jean's of a mind to charge back into the fray, outdo reiner from over yonder, still covered in blood that has yet to sizzle away. there's a soldier fallen in the grass that has to be avenged, after all; it doesn't help that it's armin, which makes jean's blood boil that much further. is he all right? is he alive? there hasn't been an opportunity to check, too wrapped up in his own failed counterattack, at seeing reiner nearly get crushed alive.

he wants, yet cannot. between being wearily held back by reiner and the eoten taking her abrupt leave (after all that?), there's nothing for it. it's over as suddenly as it began, and what's there to show for it? horses run astray, grass stains on jean's kneecaps, and a deeply-running ache throughout his entire body that he'll be feeling for days to come. not to mention the fate of armin, who continues to lie prone, the fight having left him as well.

according to reiner, he's plenty alive, but jean needs more confirmation than that. he sees nothing wrong in cradling armin upright, peering into a pair of eyes that hopefully aren't too dilated, feeling along his body to see what's broken and what isn't. the bleeding along his brow is copious, making jean's stomach lurch from the sight and stench.

no, no. this isn't how it's supposed to be. it feels like only yesterday that he and the remnants of the 104th corps were getting settled into a new base of operations, a new way of life. jean still has a hard time believing that this is what he ended up choosing, following both armin's suggestions and his gut instinct to honor his fallen best friend in the only way he really knows how. it's a big adjustment to become reacquainted with teammates old and new, the new chain of command, the duties laid out before them. it's bigger still to see armin in a brand new light, a steadier friend now than he's ever been, maybe something more, although it's a very ponderous concept to consider.

which is why it affects jean so heavily to see the boy like this, whether or not his wounds look far worse than they are in reality. it's what leaves his voice trembling, barking at reiner. ] Fuck, don't just stand there—can't you—

[ reiner knows. reiner understands, or so jean's guessing, if the crinkled corners of his eyes are any indicator. he's as relieved as he is distressed to see the larger man back off, rifle through the belongings on his horse. he'll bring back supplies, no doubt, something to stop armin from continuing to leak all over the place. if he keeps it up, there won't be much life left in him any longer, will there? ]

[arminarlert]

[ all armin can register right now is the annoying thrumming in his skull, a telltale sign that he's in for a world of pain once the shock has worn off. things are a little too muddled right now for him to recall why this had happened, or even begin to piece together anything more than the slight trickling of sticky, warm blood rolling down his skin.

his body feels light and heavy at the same time, vision a blurred mess as he continues to gather his bearings. he remembers the mission, the horses, a titan that was too cunning and smart for its own good... but that's about it for the time being, flinching and cringing once a wave of pain finally courses through his body. it feels a lot worse than he thought it would, gasping for air when something firm presses against his tender skin, a slight panic running through him once he realizes that his vision is mostly black, that his legs feel numb and like dead weight lying limply on the ground.

no, this isn't how it was supposed to go. he needs to make it to the ocean with eren. he needs to keep his promise, needs to make sure his friends are safe and sound, that they're all right and will make it to see another day. most of all, armin needs to tell him something important, say the things he didn't have the time for, needs to just see— ]

Jean...? [ it's a faint croak in the back of his throat, not at all aware of his current surroundings. but the arms around him seems so familiar, like he's been in them before, so he lolls his head back and to the side to try and get a better look at his savior, a weak smile spreading across his face once he registers that it is indeed the person he was hoping for, even if the young man's face is blurry. ] Ah, I knew it was you...

[ it has him relaxing further, warding away the anxiety that causes his stomach to flip and turn in unpleasant ways. if jean's here, then things will be fine. they just have to be. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ he speaks. he's speaking! that has to be a good sign, doesn't it? if armin has the strength to talk, then surely he's got the will to live on...

get it together. of course everything's fine, it's going to take more than a tumble to the ground and a shallow head wound to take someone out of commission for good. jean knows this, yet he can't cease his uncharacteristically jittery grasp on armin. ] Y-yeah. Who else would it be...? [ maybe reiner, ideally, if jean'd had his way with that eoten wench. then again, if reiner were the one holding armin, jean couldn't—

ah, that train of thought isn't worth pursuing. his gaze nervously flits back and forth between reiner still at a distance. what's taking him so long with those wrappings? those are linen wrappings he's hauling out of his knapsack, isn't it? ]

[arminarlert]

[ breathes out a shaky sigh of relief for being right, the part of his brain that's still operating reminding him how awkward it would have been had jean not been the person keeping him upright. ] You're okay. [ leans further still, unable to stop himself from half-burying his temple into the other's chest. ] I'm glad...

[ he half-recalls that reiner is supposed to be around, too, but armin has faith that he's doing just as well. or perhaps he's a bit biased in his current state. that'll remain to be seen at a later date, once his head stops hurting. ]

[jeankirschstein]

[ as much as jean would love to launch off into his own tirade, he's cut off by reiner's return.

and so ensues a momentary discussion of...logistics. should reiner do it, should jean, should one of them prop armin up while the other goes to work; will they have enough time, do they need to get out of the open before that eoten brings along a few dozen of her friends, or...

ultimately jean's so flustered that he just snatches everything from reiner's hands. ] Man, just— [ his ears burn whilst trying to tune out the guy's muffled laughter. he doesn't see what's so funny about this situation when they all could have up and died. come to think of it, how'd reiner manage to escape so smoothly? jean knows he's strong, but he's always lacked a certain finesse, at least during training.

it's such a puzzle that he barely notices the other reaching out to help straighten each wrapping around armin. jean's swatting him away in a panic, careless of the friction it could cause amongst them all, but reiner merely raises his hands and eases away backwards, still laughing. jerk. ]