I wrote this a few days ago and posted it on Tumblr. Thought I'd share it here and what-not. I know this ship is rare (like, suuuuuuuper rare), along with Jeanani, but I figured, why not share it with you all? It's short, but sweet (kind of, haha). I hope you enjoy regardless. This takes place some time after Ymir left with Reiner and Bertolt.

Her hand, small and slender, slipped into his own after some hesitation, and he curved his fingers around hers. Squeezing them with the softest of pressures.

"C'mon," was mumbled under his breath, pulling her out of the room. She said nothing. Didn't resist him. Didn't say a word. And in a way, he was glad she was cooperating.

He shouldered the door open, pushing it open with his body weight, his fingers subconsciously lacing together with hers. The night breeze hit his face and hers, he was sure, but didn't look behind him to check.

"Why are we outside?" she said, and for a moment the flatness in her voice reminded Jean of another blonde comrade he used to know. She withdrew her hand from his grip, reaching up to brush the hair out of her eyes.

"Thought you could use some air." He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the shed.

"I'm fine," she deadpanned, her gaze drifting over to him and watching as he sat down on the grass.

"Really." he raised a skeptical eyebrow, and she pressed her lips together. "You're just 'fine'. Fan-fucking-tastic. No trouble in paradise."

"In case you haven't noticed, paradise was never an option for us," the blonde said through gritted teeth. "Or for me..."

The eyebrow went higher.

Historia sighed. She diverted her gaze, loosening her balled fists. "Sorry."

He shrugged and patted the space next to him for her to sit. She visibly stiffened but moved anyway, sinking down into the grass beside him, on her knees; hands resting on her legs. "You know, before, when you were Christa…" he mused as he thought back to their days as cadets. A time when things were simple. At least, as simple as complicated could get. "I thought you were so weird, because you were so damn happy all the time. It was unnerving."

Historia snorted, and he smiled wryly. "I don't even know who I am anymore."

"Nowadays, none of us do. I tricked myself into believing that after joining the MP's, I will never have to see another goddamned titan for as long as I live." He laughed bitterly, nimble fingers picking at the grass in front of him. "Every day the decision between right and wrong is…"

"Blurred."

He nodded. "Blurred."

He felt her gaze on him and looked over at her. She was quiet again but this time she looked like she wanted to say something. It was during the lingering silence between them that Jean really noticed her. Historia was just like the others; a broken girl hiding behind a mask. Sure, he knew Christa, but who was really Historia Reiss? Was she aware of the effect she had on others then? Now?

He might not be looking at the same girl who came to their rescue that day in the fields with the female titan, tears of joy in her eyes when she gushed about how she was so glad the worst hadn't happened to them, but the contributing factors she always had were still there. Her once big, bright blue eyes were void, smile gone, bubbly soft voice lost in between who she was and who she pretended to be. But she was still pretty, even if he was delirious for thinking so. She still had the flawless skin, the pink supple lips, the long blonde hair that belonged in storybooks that Armin would never shut up about.

Shit.

Historia was tearing up, the moonlight reflecting off of her glistening orbs. And somehow, she was able to stay strong and hold them back. Pink lips parting wordlessly, speechless for a moment or two.

"Hey, hey…" His mother never taught him how to handle girls, let alone girls who were seconds away from crying, but dammit was he gonna try. He covered one of her hands with his own, gaze steady on hers. "You're human, alright? It's okay if you wanna cry. Scream. Swear. Hit a tree. Whatever. Doesn't matter. The world we live in is shitty, and it's fucked up. I don't know about you, but I'm not gonna sit here and let life kick me in the ass. Ymir is gone, I know." The flash in her eyes and the audible hitch in her throat didn't go by unnoticed. "I know what it's like to lose your best friend - but at least yours isn't titan food. Hell, she's the one with the fork and knife."

"Jean…" She shook her head, and a stray tear escaped, smile far from happy.

He caught it with his thumb without thinking. "We can end this," he said. Or die trying hung in the shortened space between them, and she knew it.

Her head turned into his palm slightly, leaning into his touch. Now that was unexpected.

"How can you be so positive?" she breathed, gaze downwards before flickering back up to his.

"I'm not. But I'm not gonna be miserable all the damn time either."

"I can't find myself to care as much as I…used to…" she admitted quietly.

He brushed her hair behind her ear and shrugged again. "Looks like I'll just have to care enough for the both of us."

She seemed to accept that, because she took his hand off of her face - only to lean down and curl up, resting her head in his lap. Intertwining their fingers and bringing his arm around her.

Jean could only let her get comfortable this way. As odd as this was, he found this kind of…nice.

Sheesh.