Fast Car
Disclaimer: Nope. This fic is based on the song "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman. Look up the lyrics since I had to take them out :/ (or read it on AO3)
I really wanted some EreJean and decided to just write it myself. Plus, every time I hear this song I want to write something for it, so here you go.
Eren woke up with a sigh, brushed his teeth, threw on some clothes, and entered his father's room. The old man was laid up in bed as usual, with IVs stuck in his arms to keep fluid pumping through his veins. Eren changed his father's catheter bag and ran a wet rag over his body to clean him up.
"Where's your mom?" his father's gravelly voice asked.
Eren swallowed an angry response, having learned long ago to just let it go. "She's not here, dad. Remember? She left."
"When did she leave?"
When you decided to become an alcoholic and ruined your liver, Eren thought, but didn't dare speak the words out loud. When he was younger, he used to shout it every day. When he was younger, he had hoped his life would be better than this.
Day in and day out, it was the same routine: Take care of his father, go to work at the grocery store, come home to his shitty apartment, and wish he was in Jean's arms.
Jean, who didn't have the burden of an ill family member holding him back. Jean, who went out with their friends when Eren had to stay home. Jean, who had a fast car that could take them anywhere.
Running a hand through his hair, Eren wondered what went wrong. His father had always been a heavy drinker, although it never produced violence. The man just liked his liquor. But liquor didn't agree with his body, and when he was laid off work, he stayed at home with a beer glued to his hand and his ass nailed to the seat.
"You need to find another job, Grisha. I can't afford to pay the bills and take care of you all," Eren's mother said one day. It was actually every day that she said this, but something was different this time. There was a finality in her voice that made Eren nervous.
"I'll do it tomorrow," Grisha dismissed her with a lazy wave of the hand.
"Think of Eren and Mikasa!" Carla exploded. "The four of us can't survive on TV dinners and no electricity!"
"They'll be in college soon," Grisha replied. "Besides, I can get disability checks."
"For what? Being a drunk?" she shrieked.
Eren winced, clenching his fork in a shaking hand. He glanced up from the table to look at Mikasa, who was wearing the same expression he had. They knew what was coming, and they were terrified of the aftermath.
"Hey!" Grisha yelled back, easing himself up out of the chair and jabbing a bone thin finger at his wife. "I fell on the job because of their negligence, not mine! They should've paid me worker's compensation."
"You fell because you were shitfaced! They found your bottle of Jack Daniels in your fucking locker, Grisha! How do you expect to support this family when you don't even leave the house to find work?"
"I've tried, dammit!" his father fired back. "But people don't hire alcoholics!"
There was a tense silence, where Eren could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Nausea made him put his fork down and cover his ears. Mikasa stared at her adopted parents, waiting.
"There, I said it. I'm an alcoholic!" Grisha threw his hands in the air. "Are you happy now, woman?"
Carla's face was red, and her fists were clenched. Eren dreaded the words that would come from his mother's mouth, but he could never deny that he heard them. It was real. It was happening. The eye of the storm was passing over his head and he knew what was on the other side.
"I'm leaving you unless you get yourself together."
"There's the door!" he pointed.
"The only reason I've stayed this long is for the children. But once they're off to college, I'll be gone. Change your attitude, or be alone for the rest of your miserable life," she hissed, exiting the room.
At work, Eren thought about that first year of college, when he pretended everything at home was fine and he was just a normal kid.
But Jean knew. They'd known each other since high school and started dating junior year. He knew Grisha was drunk from dawn till dusk and how shattered their family had become over the years. They used to take his suped-up mustang and ride down the freeway, going nowhere in particular.
"We should just leave," Eren said out of the blue one day. He had been thinking it over for a while and wanted to know what Jean thought. Of course, he could always cover it up as a burst of spontaneity if Jean rejected the idea. But a part of him hoped they would just keep driving out of town.
"And go where?" Jean asked, turning to him. They were sitting in his car outside of a burger joint where they usually hung out.
Eren shrugged and mumbled, "Anywhere but here." He leaned his head against the window and gazed at the stars. The teenager already felt stuck, having to go to the community college because that was all he could afford. Meanwhile, Jean was going off to some Ivy League university far away, leaving him and this small town behind. Probably forever.
"You mean like the city?"
"Yeah."
For a long time, they said nothing. Eren already knew what his boyfriend's answer would be, just like he knew what his mom would do once he graduated high school.
"When I get back from college, I'll take you away from here. But not right now. We gotta think about our futures, ya know?" Jean finally responded.
Eren sighed, closing his eyes.
They still dated once Jean got to college, but things were strained. Separated by hundreds of miles, they would talk on the phone and occasionally make plans to visit one another.
In the middle of his first semester at the community college, his mother packed her bags and left the house. He had a feeling she planned this moment from the day his father got fired from being drunk on the job. She would call often at first to check in on him and Mikasa, but after a while they stopped hearing from her. According to Hannes, a family friend, she got remarried and was now living comfortably in the suburbs.
Half of Eren hated her for leaving his dad all alone, even though they all knew it was going to happen. Half of him wanted to be there with her, once again a child in her arms.
Instead, he decided that someone needed to stay behind to take care of his father. Mikasa refused, and Eren didn't blame her. She had more potential, more going on with her life, than he ever would. So he quit school and moved back home, getting a part-time job at the local grocery store.
By the time Jean got back from college, it was already too late. He found someone new, made more friends, and didn't want to stay in that small town forever. At least that was what Eren heard.
"Hey."
Eren blinked and looked up, interrupted in his musings. His eyes found Jean's and he paused, hands over the register. It was the first time they'd seen each other since he got back.
"Hey," he said eventually. Jean gave him a small smile, looking the same but older.
"You still working here?"
"Yeah."
"Still taking care of your dad?"
"Yeah."
Jean nodded, and Eren continued to stuff his groceries into bags.
"I'm planning on moving to the city," Jean said after a moment. He was looking at Eren with a knowing expression, like this was it. This was what he had been waiting for. "You should come."
But it was too late. "I can't. I gotta stay with my dad."
"You need to get out of here, Eren."
"I know. But I can't leave him behind like everyone else."
"Why don't we go for a drive, huh?" Jean jerked his chin in the direction of the door. "I still have the mustang." He grinned, all pearly white teeth and bright eyes.
With a longing stare, Eren finally nodded. "I'm off in half an hour."
"I'll wait."
They took off like they did when they were kids, driving so fast it made Eren feel dizzy. Lights passed them by and he wondered how far they would go. The mustang's top was down, and their hair was whipped into a frenzy by the wind. His face stung but he didn't care. Jean pulled over at one of their old spots and draped his arm around Eren's shoulder.
"I missed you," he said softly, brushing a thumb along Eren's neck. It made the brunette shudder and lean away.
"I thought you were engaged," Eren replied, probably too stiffly.
"I called it off when I got back here," Jean shrugged.
"Why?" Eren asked, and Jean finally looked at him. That roguish grin spreading across his lips and the twinkle in his eyes made Eren feel like he was seventeen again.
"I missed you."
Eren looked away. "If you stay here, you'll drown."
"Nah."
"You weren't made for a small town, Jean."
"If you're staying here with your dad, I'll stay with you."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I want to."
"That's stupid. You deserve better."
Jean grabbed his chin. "No, you deserve better, Eren Jaeger. You can't spend your whole life taking care of your drunk dad. Put him in a nursing home or something. Get him a full-time nurse. Don't stop living when you have so much more to do," he pleaded softly.
Eren shook his head out of Jean's grip. "It's not that easy. I can't put him in a home. He's not even that old, he's just a lazy sack of shit. Besides, he won't let anyone else take care of him. I let Mikasa watch him one time and he threw a fit when I got back, said he never wanted to see her again, and she felt the same."
"Then let him die," Jean snorted carelessly. Eren punched him in the arm, furious. "What?" he exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot and staring at Eren with wide eyes.
"Don't you ever fucking say that again. He's my dad, Jean."
"Yeah, but that doesn't make you his slave. You need to focus on yourself—,"
As Jean spoke, Eren was already opening the door and getting out, walking down the road with his hands in his jacket.
"Hey! Come back, Eren!" Jean called, running after him. "Look, that was a dick thing to say, and I'm sorry, but you know it's true."
"Shut up," Eren muttered, still kicking his feet down the dirt path on the side of the road.
"Fine then. But I'm still going to stay. Once he kicks the bucket, we're outta here," Jean declared.
Eren paused and turned back to look at him. "Don't say it like you look forward to it."
"You know it's gonna be soon, right?" Jean said, raising his eyebrows and reaching out a hand to him. "Your old man drank himself into oblivion and his liver is gonna conk out any day now. He hasn't done anything to fix the damage he's caused."
"Shut. Up," Eren growled, turning back around to keep walking and avoiding Jean's gaze.
Jean's hand wrapped around his arm, yanking him back. Lips were pressed against his roughly, until they softened. Jean stared into his eyes as he loosened his grip.
Eren glared at him for a moment, and then let his head fall onto his shoulder, leaning close. Jean wrapped his arms around him, holding him as he sobbed, gasping. Tears kept falling and they wouldn't stop. He was 22 and going nowhere.
Jean moved in to help Eren out, and a couple of months later Grisha Jaeger emptied his last bottle of Jack Daniels.
Eren wondered if his mom would show up at the funeral, but wasn't surprised when it was just him, a few of his dad's old friends (who he hadn't managed to piss off yet), and Jean. Not even Mikasa wanted to come, and Armin was too busy being a genius to travel back to town.
"Let's pack tonight. We'll drive to the city and get an apartment or something," Jean whispered in his ear as they closed the casket.
A couple of weeks later, they were living in the same apartment complex as some of their high school friends, who had all moved into the city and left Eren behind. Eren transferred to a larger grocery store, still as just a cashier, and Jean started looking for a job. He majored in law, hoping to become an attorney with a large firm one day.
They would take late night drives around the city, speeding down the highway with the music blaring and the top down. Eren was happy for the first time in a long time. When he smiled, Jean would smile back. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere, with someone. Like he could do something more with his life. Even Mikasa started talking to him again, looking lighter now that Grisha was dead and gone.
Every time he and Jean had an argument, they ended up fucking to ease the tension. In the morning, they would kiss their troubles away. Eren knew things were starting to get better. If he worked hard enough, maybe they would promote him to store manager, even though he didn't have a degree. Jean would finally find a job in his field, something steady they could rely on, and they could save up some money for a house.
Maybe they would live in the same neighborhood as his mom and her new family.
A small trickle of guilt wormed its way inside of him. His father was gone, and he was glad he didn't have to carry that dead weight any longer. But Eren couldn't help it. He reconciled himself to his father's behavior, having realized that he was a shitty parent and nearly robbed his own son of a better life. Now was his chance.
After a few months and a few odd jobs that didn't quite fit his field, Jean started staying later at the bars with their friends. Mikasa noticed, giving Eren a knowing look whenever they were together. She didn't come around as often as when they first moved to the city, especially after Jean had been drinking and was hungover. Eren found a better job with a higher pay, so they could at least afford the bills, but he knew there had to be more to life than this.
"You know, if you keep drinking like that, you'll end up like my dad," Eren whispered one night when Jean finally stumbled home. He would usually wait up for him, making sure he got home safely, and then tuck him into bed when he was too drunk to do so himself.
"Pffft." Jean waved his hand dismissively and Eren was taken back to his childhood. His father never acknowledged how much drinking had torn their family apart. He denied it until the bitter end, even after his wife had left and his children treated him like a burden.
"Jean. I'm serious," Eren said, desperation leaking into his words. "You still don't have a decent job. C'mon, I thought we were going to get a house?" Eren pushed, giving a hesitant, expectant smile.
"I'll do it tomorrow," Jean mumbled, bumping his shoulder against the wall and using it as a guide to their room.
Eren winced. It was an echo of his father, the shadow of the man who raised him. He took Jean's keys off the coffee table and got in the mustang. It was old now, with a few dents and scrapes. The upholstery was torn and burnt from cigarettes and carelessness. Jean used to worship this thing like a god, making it a religious ceremony to wash and clean it on a regular basis. Now it was just a tool he rarely used, left to rot.
Eren drove fast like they used to, the lights blurring together in the night sky. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to get there somehow.
He knew there had to be something better than this.
Author's Note: Eren's dad is partially based on my grandfather so yeah. Also I'm afraid of growing old without really living or accomplishing anything because at a certain point you lose opportunities and that bothers me.
