Welcome to the first chapter of my With You series!

This one runs in tandem with With You - Alternate, but please, read this one FIRST. :3


So, the series begins back when everyone is still in training. There's not really a set time for it's beginning.

(1)


He fell back into his bed, tossing his arms behind his head as he hit his lump of a pillow. Yawning, he stretched out his legs and made a lame attempt to take off his socks using only his toes. It was still early morning, but he needed a nap. He thought about going out to find some dinner that didn't involve the slop from the kitchen. Closing his eyes, his stomach growled at the idea of buying a bag of the little cookies he loved as he began to drift to sleep.

Whoever opened and shut the door was quiet about it, but it made Jean open his eyes all the same. Why couldn't a guy get just a couple of hours of peace around this place? He opened his mouth as he sat up, ready to complain, but when he spotted Armin, he stopped. The younger boy had pressed his back to the door and slid to the floor, but he didn't miss the holes and tears in his pale green shirt or the smear of blood at the corner of his mouth. His shoulders were shaking as he wrapped his arms around his knees and pressed his face into his kneecaps.

"Armin?" Jean's frown deepened when Armin snapped his head up, eyes wide with what looked like shock- and fear. One eye had a distinct mark below it that Jean knew would be a bruise in a few hours, but both were rimed bright red and leaking tears. He wasn't sure why the look disturbed him so badly, but Jean's instant reaction was to climb out of the bed. His feet his the floor, but before he could stand, Armin had risen and was about to pull open the door. "Wait! What happened?"

"N-nothing. Sorry." Armin had brought his chin down to his chest so his hair fell in his face, obstructing Jean's view. His hand was twisting the knob and he was taking a step back and to the side, ready to bolt. Jean scrambled to his feet and took the several steps it took to cross the length of the room as fast as he could without quite running. He caught Armin's shoulder just before he could slip outside.

"Something happened." Jean's eyes narrowed as he noticed another mark that would become a bruise by Armin's chin, a few scrapes where his shirt had been torn at the collar, and some of the skin missing from around his knuckles. Armin would not look up to meet his eyes. "I'm pretty okay at first aid. Let me help you."

Armin tried to shake his head, but Jean wasn't going to take no for an answer. He wasn't about to let Armin go running back out there looking the way he did. He wondered who was responsible for beating the crap out of the smaller boy. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed the top of Armin's arm and began to drag him over to the closest bunk. Armin was limping a little, though it looked like he was trying to hide it. He let go of the smaller boy's arm only after he was sitting on the bunk, then turned to go find the first aid supplies kept in the back near the hall that lead to the showers.

If or when he found out who had done this to Armin, Jean swore to himself that he would personally make that person hurt so much worse. The whole situation didn't sit right with him, but he couldn't name why. Sure, Armin wasn't the strongest guy in the Cadets, but he did okay when it came to hand-to-hand. He didn't understand how Armin had been hurt so badly- he should have been able to fight whoever it was off! But, Jean thought grimly, Armin is pretty shrimpy for a guy... He was built more like Krista, and only a little bit taller.

Armed with a small bowl of water, a rag, and some bandages, Jean made his way back to the bunk where Armin still sat, hunched over but unmoving. Jean sat the bowl on a little table near the head of the bed before dragging it around so he could reach it easier. Armin flinched when Jean grabbed his hand to clean up the bloody mess of his knuckles. Jean kept a firm hold, though, and brought the wet rag over to wipe away the nearly-dried blood.

Jean frowned as he picked a few flakes of dead skin away from Armin's knuckles. A few of the scrapes on his right hand were still bleeding, so Jean snatched up the gauze and began to wrap it tightly. Armin tugged his hand away as soon as Jean was finished. Jean simple reached across for Armin's left hand and began the process over again. He tried to think of something to say, but nothing seemed right. Jean thought again about his mother and the idea struck him.

"Hey, you should come with me to get something to eat." Jean felt lame as the words spilled out, but at least he had the wherewithal to shut his mouth before he made this situation even worse. He knew Armin didn't have any family left and the only people he ever stayed around were Eren and Mikasa. Maybe a little break from the barracks would do Armin some good. He realized with a light flush that it sounded like he'd asked him out on a date, but that wasn't what he'd intended.

"N-no thanks," Armin whispered, trying to pull his hand away. Jean surrendered, seeing that there wasn't much more he could do anyway. "I don't..."

"Shut up," Jean said casually, flicking Armin's head lightly as he stood. "You're coming with me." It was easier to just tell Armin that he was coming along. He'd drag him the whole way if he had to, but there was a nagging thought in Jean's mind that Armin definitely needed to be away from here for a while. He couldn't imagine never being able to go home, never being able to really leave this place. "Might wanna change shirts, though."

Jean was gathering the rest of the gauze and winding it back into a roll while Armin stood and made his way over to his own bunk. Jean left, carrying the bowl and rag, both tinted red from blood, and took them back to the washroom. They'd all seen each other naked more times than any of them cared to admit, but it had become practice to just keep one's eyes on the floor for a while. Jean, figuring Armin had had plenty of time to throw on another shirt, didn't bother as he walked back to the bunks.

Armin was in worse shape than he'd thought. There were more scrapes and brushes littering his right side- the side Jean could see. Armin hadn't noticed him yet. He was holding his side with a grimace, bending to pick up the dark blue shirt from the bed. An icy trickle dripped down Jean's spine. He didn't understand why Armin was keeping silent. It was clear that he was in pain, but he just pressed his lips together in a tight line and tugged the shirt over his head. Jean looked to the side, his fists clenched. He couldn't do anything to help!

"I'm sorry," Armin muttered. Jean looked back over to him as he shrugged into his jacket.

"Why?" Jean didn't understand what Armin had to apologize for. It wasn't like he'd beaten the piss out of himself! Armin shrugged and stared down at the floor. Jean huffed a loud sigh and rubbed the back of his head for a moment. "Whatever. Let's just go." He made his way to the door. Armin followed, to Jean's surprise- he thought he'd have to drag Armin out for sure.