Please read chapters 1-4 of With You before reading this one!

Since this is the first chapter for the "Alternate" version, please allow me to explain a few things:

It is NOT imperative that you read this version to understand the original With You.

This version is not nearly as nice as the original. I do some pretty horrible and fucked up things. But later on down the road, I also do some pretty wonderful things (yay smut!).

This version of the story comes with a very severe WARNING attached. (This is where all of those horrible things I just mentioned come into play.) That "M" rating is there for a fucking reason - and not just because I like to use the word "fuck" a lot.

Don't say I didn't warn you!

If you agree to the above terms and conditions, then by all means, continue reading. If you do NOT agree, please leave this fic and find something else to read.

For those of you who stick around, don't hate me. I really am very nice to my little cupcakes in later chapters. :3

(1)

"Come on, Jean!" Marco called from the door. "We're going to be late!"

Jean rolled his eyes. "Keep your pants on," he grumbled, stepping into his own black trousers. He didn't understand why they had to go all the way to stupid Stohess on their day off. It was too damn early for this! Everyone had already left for the day, but he hadn't been ready to get up. The nightmares that had begun when he'd found Armin crying in the bathroom a couple of months ago had returned with a vengeance. Last night he'd been a spider, a caterpillar, an ant, and a horsefly. Each death had been more violent and longer than the previous one, yet he never woke.

"I'm going on ahead!" Marco shouted from outside. Jean shrugged him off and considered just crawling back into bed for a few more hours. Yawning loudly, he decided that Marco's plans would just have to wait for another day. He sank to his knees on his bunk and, after ducking his head, fell face-first into his pillow.

No nightmares came, but he still didn't sleep as well as he'd hoped for. It wasn't more than an hour before he was rolling over to his side, internally cursing the sun that shone in through the singular window by the door. Somehow, the beams of light managed to bypass every other bunk and hit him straight in the eyes. Flopping over onto his other side, he snatched the thin blanket up and covered his face, desperate for just a little bit of sleep.

The door to the barracks opened and Jean muttered every curse he could think of in quick succession. Did the gods hate him today? Was this a punishment for picking a fight with Eren about the idealistic bull shit he spewed? Should he just give up on the idea of ever getting another night of sleep? He listened to the footsteps as they scurried by, light and shuffling. Assuming someone probably just had to take a shit, Jean pressed his face into his pillow. He began to pray for sleep from gods he didn't believe in.

"Damn it!" Jean's eyes snapped open at the sudden scream from the washroom and glanced towards the back row of bunks. He frowned. That had been Armin's voice. He kicked his blanket away and sat up, ducking out of his bunk and heading for the washroom. Only a handful of long strides later, and he was staring at one empty side of the washroom. He sidestepped to the left, peering around the wall that separated the showers from the rest of the room.

"Woah!" He sprinted down the narrow space and caught Armin under his arms just as he sank to his knees. He hauled the blond to his feet and looked him over, realizing that, again, Armin had had the shit beat out of him. He looked worse this time, though.

"Go away, Jean!" Armin shouted, shoving Jean with both of his hands on Jean's shoulders with all of his might. Jean stumbled back, his eyes widening with surprise. "You're just making it all worse!" Armin wasn't looking at him as he screamed, but at the floor. Tears were splattering over his cheeks. Jean reached out one hand as Armin placed one foot behind himself to remain standing.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jean asked, the shock fading and transforming into a deep-set rage that began to burn its way through his chest. "Did those guys do this?" He could still see all of their faces- namely the leader's bloody nose after Armin had broken it.

"I knew it would only get worse..." The words were breathless. Jean barely made them out before he stepped forward to catch Armin once more. This time, the smaller boy didn't fight back. He was limp, his head falling forward, then rolling back as Jean shook him.

"Armin!" Jean shouted. "Hey, wake up!" He was unresponsive, though, and Jean cursed. He looked over Armin, noting his badly torn shirt, lip split in two places, scrapes on both cheeks, and a small cut on his forehead that was oozing blood. He lowered Armin to the floor, unsure of what else to do for the immediate moment. "What the fuck..." Jean's fingers grazed over Armin's shoulder, visible through the large rip at the seam. The two slightly uneven crescents were dashed with smaller lines- it was a bite-mark. His stomach twisted into unpleasant knots as he grimaced. His eyes drifted over the rest of the smaller boy. It took everything he had in him not to vomit when he saw the smear of blood on Armin's white pants.

Mind racing, he lowered Armin completely to the floor as gently as he could. He stood and ran to grab his jacket- the first thing he could get his hands on. Sprinting back, he tossed the jacket over Armin's much smaller frame. He crouched and wrapped one arm under Armin's shoulders and the other under his knees, pulling him close to his chest before standing. Armin's head flopped around a bit as Jean spun and darted back out toward the bunks. The blond was a lot heavier than he looked.

He half jogged, half ran through Trost, aiming for the small hospital that lay only a few blocks away. Jean didn't care what anyone saw or thought. He was overwhelmed with disgust by what those guys had done to him. He shoved open the door to the hospital, pushing by an elderly man to get to the nurse standing in the lobby.

"You have to help him!" Jean demanded, panting hard. The nurse looked startled, but raised her hand to signal a man resting against the wall further down the hall that stretched behind her.

"What happened?" she asked as Jean surrendered Armin to the man.

"I found him like that," Jean muttered, feeling the uncomfortable sting of tears as he watched the man take Armin down the hall and into a room. The woman was staring at him hard, her eyebrows pulling together.

"What's his name?" she clipped, grabbing a clipboard and a pencil.

"Armin Arlert," Jean muttered. He felt the bile from his stomach rising. "I'll... be right back." He turned and ran for the door, skidding around the next immediate corner into a small alley, and puking all over the ground- barely missing his boots. Anger and worry clashed inside of him, waging war on his stomach. He slammed his fist into the wall beside him as he swiped at the tears that had spilled down his cheeks.