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

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

[ 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...? ]

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[ ah, there it is. a small sign that he's finally coming around, more aware of armin's presence than he was before. it brings a little light to the boy's eyes, a spark of hope that jean's calmed down, will wipe his eyes in no time and perhaps say something before armin does.

but he's also aware of jean holding back even more now, which won't do any good. armin's determined to give him the time to properly mourn, though unwilling to let him hole himself up somewhere alone with no support in sight. that's something he'd do, isn't it? armin knows better than anyone on not wanting to have to rely on other people, to be the strong, heroic type instead of someone who shows too much emotion or lets their feelings get the best of them. not that he's ever really achieved his goal, but he's well aware of the admiration that's starting to bubble for the young man beside him. even if he isn't the first person jean would have turned to, had he chosen for anyone to follow him at all, armin feels like he'd be a pretty crummy friend if he didn't at least try... ]

It's okay to cry. [ something about that statement has him swallowing hard, remembering his grandfather being the one to tell him that over and over again, back when he was still alive. it hits him hard in this situation, how painful this must be for jean, and it surprises him how much he wants to help. it triggers a physical reaction out of him, one where he's circling his other arm around the larger, firmer body, gripping at it in a protective manner. ] It's okay.

[ and so, the mystery is revealed: armin. it's armin. of course it's armin, he's the only one left who might actually give half a damn. it's not like there's a long list of former trainees who'd do more of jean than maybe save half a loaf of bread for him here and there. while always appreciated, it's never necessary, not on the same level as this.

jean never considers what's propelled the boy to be here instead of working through his distress in his own manner with his faithful friends. it's...confusing, perhaps, to be put above them in a time of need, but it's nothing he'll spare the brainpower to analyze until he can use it again. if he can use it. as it stands now, jean's in a bleak, bottomless pit with no hope of escaping. marco's gone, marco isn't here anymore, doesn't anyone understand? how close they were? a pair of some of the best and brightest that the corps had to offer, on their way to the inner walls? what a partnership it'd have been.

but—armin says it's okay.

is it?

or is it soothing nonsense spouted just to shush him?

sadly, it does little to ease jean. in one fell swoop, a few short sentences—or more importantly, a full-on embrace that jean can't remember feeling in years—he's crumbled, and the next breath he takes chokes on another sob.

it's okay to cry, and cry he does, knees sinking to the ground in full, lacking the support to teeter on his haunches any longer. although it's...awkward...being confined in a position such as this, it won't stop jean from trying to find the closest, solid surface that he can push his face into, presumably to muffle his blubbering and keep himself from having more attention drawn. armin's shoulder doesn't entirely qualify for that, even more slender than jean is, but when it's all he has, he won't see fit to complain for the time being. not when there's no one else. ]

[ armin has been bracing himself for the full load of jean's weight, though he didn't expect the sudden shift in position, so he does his best to not topple over as he holds on to him tighter, plopping down on his own knees to take some of the strain off of his hamstrings.

as emotional as armin can get, he's surprised that he hasn't started the waterworks as well, though he can feel the familiar sting prickle at the corner of his eyes already. it won't do any good if he was the one to break down too, would it? be he can't help the few that slip out and down his cheeks, quickly scrubbing at the drops as to not make a mess before that same hand find their want to jean's hair, sliding fingers between brown strands while he holds his friend closer to him. ]

I know. [ the soft crack in his voice turns into a long inhale, trying to cover up that mistake with brushing his nose against the crown of jean's head, murmuring softer this time: ] It's okay.

[ if not now, then it will be okay with time. armin's pretty certain of this. ]

[ it doesn't take much for jean to grow still, though it's probably not for the reasons armin thinks.

his words, simple as they are, aren't what does it; nor the sudden increase in their proximity. it's not even the hand that fingers through choppy, two-toned locks. no, it's the unintended brush of those diminutive fingertips along the back of his neck that stir jean into, well, not stirring at all. like retracting the taut wires of their 3DMG, he practically goes limp in an instant, a bundle of dead weight against armin.

all in all, it's a silly picture they paint. jean hasn't returned the hold around him in the slightest, arms hanging loosely at his sides now that they aren't draped over his knees to support himself. had he the strength to, he might raise one to either push the other boy away or—perhaps crazily—drag him closer still, careless of the implications of it or the fact that anyone breaking away from the abridged funeral-of-sorts could stumble upon them and make false accusations, assumptions, or worse. and god forbid if it were eren or mikasa.

but they remain undisturbed, and jean remains frozen, still as a statue. at length, his sobbing subsides again with a short hiccup, and he turns his face into armin more just to breathe, momentarily marveling at being this close to another human being who's neither his mother or someone who's taking a few too many nighttime liberties in the trainees' barracks. it was never worth pitching a fit about, though it did often drive him to wonder about a few things late at night. ]

[ armin is none the wiser on hitting one of jean's sensitive spots, perking up at the fact that he's more or less calmed down by now. not that he'd blame him for continuing, but if he's had his fill for the time being, then armin can consider this a small victory at best.

what is surprising to him is how comfortable he is at the moment, twisting only a fraction to the left to better face jean, one hand lingering down again to now rub at his back. it's something that's supposed to soothe people, right? his mother used to do it for him all the time, or even mikasa, on those rare times in their childhood where he was too shaken over something to be coaxed into ceasing his tears from eren's hand in his, dragging him away from the scene of the crime that used to happen one too many times.

ah, but his heart is beating a bit faster in response to their close proximity, realizing this a bit too late as his ears turn slightly pink. he's still not completely sure why he's having such a reaction, though armin's not dumb, he has a faint idea of what this is all about.

now's not the time for those thought, however. shaking his head, the boy continues to pat and stroke at the firm, warm surface his palm is still idling on, briefly contemplating the whereabouts of his two best friends, if they'll come looking for him, what he'd even say to them if they saw him and jean in such a position. knowing eren, he'd throw some kind of unnecessary fit, while mikasa would be more rational, although skeptic of their distance from the gathering. ]

[ for the time being, there'll be no more outbursts from jean. he can't confidently say that he's feeling better, for sure, but he's regained enough sense to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, not all hope is lost. not if someone like armin's rushed to him of his own free will.

come to think of it, he knew marco fairly well too, didn't he? not as well as jean, but he's heard mentions of the bright blond boy from time to time, back when he wasn't spared many thoughts past being a harmless sidekick to bratty eren and lovely mikasa. it's silly to think how they've made the transition from there to seeing each other as...wait, what are they, anyway? soldiers who sought good company out of one another? they've sure liked to talk, at least, based on the smattering of conversations they've had before...

and jean hasn't gotten to ever since the hole was sealed in trost, has he? there's been no time; short of catching him in the streets here and there on the way to another assignment piled on him, he's never gotten the chance to elaborate on what he wanted to, let alone a second to breathe and clear his head. it went from marveling at eren's work to scouring for bodies to identify, and then—

no. no more crying. not now.

the urge passes in the wake of feeling each surreal thump at his at his back, growing a little more lax when it turns into a long, consistent stroke that makes him sigh warmly into armin's throat. with newfound clarity, he's increasingly aware of what this looks like, and the effect that this supposedly-innocent comfort is having on him. it's not jean's place to say if it's purely from armin, or just from being doted on in such a fashion. he's not certain if he'd like the real answer or not.

all that he aside, he's very warm, and very reluctant to move, yet his mouth opens anyway. ] Too close. [ yes, for mere chatty friends, they're too close indeed— ] Someone's gonna lop my head off if they see... [ ah, still too close to the anonymous pyre. that's what he means, isn't it? he's muttering now, dry lips brushing against armin's skin in ways they don't mean to in the slightest, but it can't be helped when they're wedged together so. ] You think?

[ there's no humor in his grin that can be felt more than seen. it's the most constructive hint that jean can drop at the moment, though if armin's more of a mind to up and abandon him now that he's not sobbing into the dirt, well, he can hardly blame him for that choice. ]

[ unintentional touches or not, the gentle brush of lips and breath against already flushed skin makes armin's face flare up even more, ashamed that he's getting flustered at such an important, albeit already intimate setting.

it's been a while, that's for certain. to be able to do something like this for someone, grasping for physical contact that he thinks should help. logically speaking, it's worked for the most part, now that jean's not a sobbing mess and can actually respond, to which armin initially blinks at in surprise.

ah, well that's certainly not what he had been expecting his comrade in arms to say. of all the things...

despite himself, armin chuckles at the comment, playfully responding: ] Maybe. [ he doesn't mean to, but he nuzzles just slightly into jean's hair, lips twitching upward into a smile. ] But they'll have to go through me first.

[ truth be told, it's easier to get through to his best friends if he calmly explains the situation. if anything, mikasa's more likely to hold eren back, throw him to the ground if he becomes too bratty, too brash with something to miniscule.

that wouldn't happen, though. not now, not a time when everyone's spirits are just a little bit broken, a little bit fragile from everything that's transpired thus far. anyone would understand, especially if they've seen first-hand jean's breakdown, the courageous speech he had given to not only those that are gone, but the soldiers who now remain. that's good enough to give anyone even a fraction of respect for jean, or so armin would like to think. ]

[ through him? armin?

jean doesn't mean to laugh—not spitefully—but there it is, huffed softly into the skin. he can't help being entertained at the mental image of trying to take anyone on so seriously, whether they're a pipsqueak like connie or a beanpole like bertholdt. no one could really fault him for his lack of trying, though...

then again, the boy is full of convictions, and jean's seen that first-hand. keeping that in mind is less of a laughing matter, and after a minute, he becomes quiet, frowning at his own impetuousness. maybe right now, armin wouldn't be anyone's choice as a first or last line of defense, be it against man or eoten—the fact that he'd still try, however, despite being well aware of his limitations, is...heartwarming, to say the least. or so it stands with jean.

which is what compels him to remain tucked in as he is, casting aside his bout of self-consciousness for the moment. if armin says it's fine, and no one's seen fit to disturb them as of yet, then it is fine. isn't it?

one of jean's hands are late to finally rise, curl its fingers into the uniform jacket in front of him to simply hang on. ] You're strong. [ he's muttering again, unbidden, no trace of sarcasm at all. ] You're so strong— [ it's not quite what he'd wanted to say a few days ago, but in the wake of this overwhelming surge of emotion (or whatever it is), it feels like something to point out nevertheless. ]

[ armin doesn't take offense from the laugher. on the contrary, it was supposed to be funny, a lighthearted joke that would get jean to move further away from his sorrows.

then again, he was also being serious. even if he isn't usually able to hold his own, armin at least prides himself for trying, or at least being honest about his intentions of doing so. it's still a bit jarring to hear jean say something so... blunt, however, particularly when it has to do with the softest, most delicate part of armin's entire existence.

the back of his neck feels hotter somehow, doubly so once contact is initiated on jean's end. he feels flustered all over again, concentrating on keeping his heart from beating so rapidly inside of his chest. ]

So are you. [ well, he had meant to vocalize his thanks, but he gets to it too late, fumbling over his words once he's able to get it out: ] T-Thank you.

[ just as he's about to tug jean closer, there's a pattern of footsteps and murmuring in the distance that disrupts him from continuing, realizing that now's the time for them to finally move. he's loathe to remove his hold that he has on his friend, but the barracks aren't too far off from their current location, so he's not as reluctant to be the first one to slowly stand, taking the hand that's on his jacket before reaching out to offer his other one to jean. ] Let's go.

[ go? go where? away? from here...?

he's missing the contact before armin's even pulled away, feebly flailing at him with that one hand as he retreats. stupefied, jean's left hanging, though not for long, which leaves him all the more perplexed. ]

Huh...? [ now it's jean's turn to not be able to take a hint, still staring, head cocked in confusion. it takes a little come hither gesture from armin for him to get the message, and then he's sweating, grumbling, unable to look at him head-on when he coltishly clambers up to his own feet. ] ...

[ okay, he's made it this far. should he let go of armin now, or what? ]

[ armin will be the one to decide that for jean, letting go of one hand as he uses their other connected ones to help direct them towards their destination.

is this the right thing to do? it would be perfectly feasible for armin to just leave it at that, give his friend a soft pat on the shoulder before making his way back to the others. but something keeps him from going in that direction, on autopilot now that they've had their moment.

briefly he wonders if he's thinking clearly. his feet are just carrying him wherever they want, yet his heart is still heavy from before, and thinking of such has his fingers curling tighter around jean's.

he doesn't speak, even when they get to the usual housing made for the male cadets, not at all surprised when he opens the door to find nobody inside. they've all gone their separate ways by now, wouldn't be surprised if they're all huddled somewhere else to talk further, discuss their plans for the future. it's still relieving to know that they'll be alone for the time being.

sighing in relief, armin hesitates briefly, uncertain. does he go to jean's bed or his own?

flickering his gaze over to the other, he decides it's best to just go towards jean's instead. armin has his own intentions, but it'll be easier to back away if it looks like he doesn't want the company any longer, wants to just sleep alone and away from any of his fellow soldiers. ]

[ curiouser and curiouser. jean doesn't mind being lead, nor the silence that shrouds them both, but the mystery of where they're headed is getting to him more than he thought it would. when offering his vague suggestion to relocate themselves, he figured at best they'd scoot a little farther away from the assembled soldiers, someplace out of earshot where they could work themselves up to an actual exchange, and not a smattering of soft reassurances here and there. not that there's anything wrong with that—it's appreciated, really, especially from armin—but something with more...substance is what he's started to expect from armin. it's what makes him valuable.

marco was valuable, too, though in vastly differently ways. as he'd tugged along, jean's mind wanders, in order to distract himself from his overall disorientation. what would it have been like if he'd had two best friends to rely on instead of just the one? could they all have been roped into the same assignments? maybe that way, marco wouldn't have gotten caught all by himself, and maybe...

ah, too many maybes. jean's treading down a slippery slope he'd tried to set aside in armin's arms, and dwelling on it won't do any good. the sigh that whistles through his nostrils is a thin one, though clear, as they reach the barracks. with some light shown on the situation, he's not as uneasy now, though he's also still wondering what's motivated armin to bring them here. resting his eyes—among other things—wouldn't be so bad, he supposes, but there are other places to do that as well. perhaps it's the emptiness of it that's so appealing; definitely less of a chance to get caught here.

not that they're really doing anything in particular. there's no expectations of reenacting such...intimacies for a second time. it wouldn't be so terrible, not at all, but it's probably not the right thing to be doing, either, overstepping his boundaries. so jean's at a loss of what to do, eyes flitting back and forth between his bunk and armin's face, eventually deciding to just let go of his hand and flop down heavily on the thin mattress, and let that be that.

he instantly realizes that he shouldn't have let armin go (didn't want to, fingers curled as tightly around him as they were) but what's done is done. ]

[ armin's not sure what he had been expecting, though he still holds his breath, trying to decide what he should do.

well, if jean really wanted him to leave, he'd bid him a goodnight, turn away, something other than leaving himself open like this. is it an invitation to stay with him, even if it's just for a while longer?

after giving him a calculating look, armin slowly, carefully takes a seat at the edge of the bed, eyes stuck on his hands. they wring nervously around one another, an attempt to collect himself and his thoughts. he thinks he's got what he wants to say down, so he swallows down the lump in his throat, ignoring the way his heart continues to beat wildly against his ribs. ]

... when I thought Eren had died, I didn't know what to do with myself. I still have nightmares about it, almost every night. [ there's a pause, here, realizing that this is the first time he's ever told anyone about that. but he digresses. ] Even though Mikasa and I got him back, I had someone to talk to about what happened.

[ finally, he makes a move to turn fully towards the other, hiking his leg up to rest fully on the mattress so he can brace a hand firmly on the surface. ]

Jean, you don't have to do this alone. You're strong enough to, but maybe, if you need it sometime...

[ his lips move, but there's no sound coming out. pursing them tightly, armin glances up at jean, willing away the slight tinge of pink that's worked its way up towards his cheeks. ] I— I could be there. To listen to you, if you'd like.

[ jean, unfortunately, doesn't know what he wants. he won't deny that a part of him does see fit to send armin on his way and catch forty winks while there's still some peace and quiet to be had. another part, however, wants nothing more than for him to stay, if only because he doesn't trust himself to be alone. with nothing to sidetrack him, jean fears he'll just descend into despair again, wallowing over all the what-ifs or what he could have theoretically done to save marco and not walk around with this gaping hole in his heart that can't be filled, can't be comprehended. why does it affect him this deeply?

there's nothing of worth for him to say, staring at the farthest wall while armin prattles on. never before had he taken into account how much the potential loss of eren—shitty brat though he is—might have weighed on armin. had he not shape-shifted or used whatever weird power was at his disposal, he might be in the same shoes that jean is currently. or maybe he already has been, which would explain why he's taken such care. disdain for the guy aside, even jean can see that their bond was (still is) strong, stronger than he and marco's by far. and to suffer through something like that...

but he's safe now. eren is safe, eren plugged up the wall, eren scored one of the first victories for humanity in a long, long time. more importantly, he'll live to fight another day, and so will armin, a survivor of his suffering, of his grief. can jean come out like that, too, regardless of marco's disappearance? at this point, when it's still so soon, nobody can say.

he isn't strong, no matter what armin might say. marco certainly didn't.

a little choked up, jean squares his jaw, the rest of armin's words falling on unintentionally-deaf ears. it all sounds like white noise to him, and none of it's really assuaging the heaviness in his heart. he hardly even feels eyes upon him until the very last second, when he turns with a slight start. some advantage in height on armin's end would have put them nose to nose, but they're safe for now.

though not wanting to keep giving armin the cold shoulder, it takes time to respond, and it isn't much of one when jean actually gets to. ] About what? There's nothin' to say...

[ nothing. that's the problem. there's nothing, marco is nothing, he's long gone, bones burnt to ash and dust. one minute they were recuperating in trost, taking down eotens in a clever scheme to reclaim their supplies, and the next... ]

He's just—gone, y'know—?

[ armin was already aware that this could potentially backfire on him, or at least bring them to another standstill. he frowns visibly as not being quite as successful as he had hoped, fingers curling into the sheets while he thinks, plans, calculates. that's not how these things are supposed to go, though, are they? he shouldn't be overthinking it so much, but it's such a delicate situation.

after all, armin's no stranger to death and destruction, either; losing his parents at such a young age, watching his grandfather march off to his death, the way his heart stopped when eren had died right before his eyes, how he stupidly even considered suicide by the hands of a titan...

closing his eyes, armin takes a deep breath to steady himself. now's not the time to reminisce on such things, though remembering painful memories helps to ground him, remind him that nobody is ever alone in this, not anymore. not if he can help it. ]

Mm... [ for once, he can't come up with anything to reassure him with. death is a permanent thing, and jean is right, what is there to say now of all times? ] But you might want to talk in the future.

[ now it dawns upon him that he might be forcing this on his friend, becoming more of a bother than anything else. it's not his intentions, not at all, but he got so wrapped up in wanting to help that he can't seem to stop. is that a good thing? it's probably not a good thing.

averting his eyes to the side, armin begins to pick at the edge of his jacket's sleeve, scrunching his shoulders up after he's situated himself back to his precious position. ] O-Or not.

[ one step forward, two steps back. jean's completely unaware of what he's putting armin through; he hardly means to make the guy's efforts all for naught. he just wants to be supportive of his...friend in his time of need, and there's no shame in that.

would opening up be such a bad thing? save for his speeches, save for the reports he's given, it's not as if jean's said all that much about what happened to marco, how he found him. perhaps there'd be some merit in doing so, both for him, and for stopping armin from skittering away out of self-consciousness and fear. as always, it's about putting his best his best foot forward.

and one of the last things he'd want is for armin to awkwardly take his leave. not when they were getting on so well a little while ago. ]

... [ ah, but it's harder than it looks to get it all out there. jean's not sure how to lead it off, what to say, if armin's even really interested in this stuff. for all he knows, he's just being polite in wanting to hear jean out. fair is fair after doing some of it to him, isn't it? ]

...it's like no one saw him. They didn't even know his name. I'm the one who had to pick up his body, I'm the one who had to carry him to the wagon. All that dead weight, even when... [ here jean pauses, grimacing at the memory, the image that's seared into his mind's eye. ] Even when there's this whole chunk of him gone, y'know? Like his face, it's so...messed up...not even an eoten could do that, I don't think...

[ he shakes his head a little. ] Didn't even have the decency to be eaten up, yeah? He's just...gone, he's dead, just sittin' there, and we wouldn't even have noticed if they hadn't sent me out there for him. [ now he's laughing, but it's even less warm than the one he gave for armin before. ] They could've sent me out there sooner, don't you think? Shit, I don't even know what he was doing...we could've been working together, like we always do, could've watched each other's backs so that he'd still be here, and not just...

[ it continues on like this for a span, never really mentioning anything of import, just the little things that lead up to marco's discovery, what they did afterward, and all the other carnage than jean has seen. he starts staring down at his hands, flexing them, recalling when they were gloved and hauling bodies with the rest of the garrison left and right. it's dirty work to be sure, and if jean wasn't already against the idea of joining up with them, he is now. at this rate he can't confidently say if he wants to carry on with being a soldier. there's little choice to it, but it won't be the same to side with the police now, will it? not when his partner is gone for good. ]

[ with the patience he's so used to having, armin stays quiet and listens as jean speaks his mind finally, nodding silently when it's appropriate, contorting his face into different expressions throughout his tale. jean's only said so much in public that it's a little jarring to finally hear him come out and say more about it in such a short amount of time. but that's what armin wanted, or at least hoped he'd trust him enough to confide in him. maybe not now, though it's as good as of a time as any, isn't it?

it's not until jean's prattled off into silence does armin realize he's been holding his breath, relaxing his muscles that had been tensing up ever so slowly.

although he had asked for this, he's at a loss of how to comfort him, to reply in a way that might be able to ease jean into an easy sleep, or at least a few hour's rest before the day starts anew again. the only way he really knows how to is what seemed to work last time, but it doesn't seem right to just grab him and hold him again, nor is he forward enough to lay next to jean and initiate the same contact.

reaching out with a hand, armin tentatively touches jean's hair, a soft stroke to a lock before he's repeating the gesture again and again in a soothing manner. ]

... do you blame yourself for what happened? [ because armin knows that feeling all-too well, though unlike jean, he's lucky to have been able to see eren again, to be reassured that he did nothing wrong, it wasn't his fault, despite being the reason that he had almost died in the first place. ] Because you shouldn't, if you do. It's nobody's fault.

[ except maybe the titan's, or whatever happened to make him end up in such a state, but that doesn't really need to be said. ]

[ confusion reigns anew for jean. now that the heat of that particular moment has passed, he's more than a little taken aback by having hands on him. like armin himself, it's not unwanted, but it's very...unfamiliar.

he tries his best not to stiffen up or jump away in shock. it's just your head, there's not even that much there... it seems to do the trick well enough, and jean's eyes avert themselves to look at another part of the wide, dimly-lit room. he'd kill for someone to come in right now, if only to give them both a short pause to recompose themselves. ]

S'somebody's fault. [ is all jean mumbles, somehow feeling like a child being lightly scolded, although he doubts it's what armin's wanted to convey. ] Didn't say it was mine...

[ ah, that wasn't what he wanted, retracting his hand as he shakes his head, an apologetic expression written all over his face. ]

Sorry, I didn't mean... [ for how articulate armin usually is, he sure is having trouble forming words right now. tugs at a strand of hair, also looking elsewhere for the time being. ] It's just, I blamed myself, so...

[ but it's not like that for everyone, he thinks, toeing at the ground a little. not everyone lacks confidence like you. ]

Huh? What for? [ is this about eren, still? ] Everything's hunky-dory with you...

[ well, that's not completely true. ]

...well. Kinda. I guess. [ way to screw the pooch there, jean. ]

[ blinks over at him, startled for a beat or two. and then he's chuckling lightly into a hand, shifting around until he's facing the other head-on. ]

There you go. [ lifts a finger and gently taps his cheek once. ] That's the Jean I know.

...? [ it isn't jean's fault if he goes cross-eyed for a split second, still unable to bring himself to look fully at armin for whatever reason. ]

I'm always Jean...

[ he feels foolish for this, as though he's being chastised yet again. he almost wants to say he's jean who's missing a part of himself, but that sounds too cheesy, even for him.

what would marco think? ]

[ huffs out an amused breath before he goes back to messing with his own hair, nodding once before allowing some silence to follow. and then: ]

I'm really glad you talked to me, Jean. Thank you.

[ i like it a lot is on the tip of his tongue, but expressing his gratitude for being confided in was a better alternative. maybe next time. ]

Always talk to you, too...

[ that's not completely true, either, but it holds up for what's been happening lately, what's happened with the entire trainee corps in their last few months of thriving together.

it isn't something that jean wants to think about right now. while it doesn't tread in the same dangerous territory that marco's loss does, it'd still put him in a frame of mind he'd rather not be in. not when he's here with armin, alone, getting the chance at long last to...well, talk. just as he said.

yet now jean's out of things to say, at least for the moment, and so he purses his lips, resumes staring at his hands. the future may not seem quite as bleak, but he has a long ways to go before he can feel fully at peace. ]

[ it's funny to know that when they didn't have the time, they were all for conversation, taking the chance to speak to one another even in the middle of battle. now here they are, free to say or do anything they please, and yet neither of them can carry this on, move them forward.

what else is there for armin to say, anyway? he brought him here so they could be in a more private space, give jean the option to opt out of discussion and just sleep away his problems, but now they're finished and done with that, aren't they?

armin's not one to really beat around the bush with these things, so he has no shame when he looks jean in the eye, though he does flush a little. ]

Do... you want me to stay here with you?

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