Hurt. Pain. Emptiness.
All the thoughts in Armin's mind had been of this. That was, until he met his other half. His true love. His saviour. Jean. It all started way back when Armin was a little boy, living with his grandpa. He used to wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying, and would pull his hair out. He got disturbed. His 'Dreams' consisted of having friends, and them getting eaten. Repeatedly. In front of his eyes. Screaming. Pain. Emptiness. Armin would nearly break his vocal cords, and would punch and scratch at his elderly grandfather who would try calm the boy down. As he grew up, the dreams became sparse, only coming to haunt him once a week, or even 2 if he was lucky. His grandfather had got him counselling. The counsellor seemed to think this was all just night terrors. Armin knew they weren't. He knew these were memories. Memories of his past life.
By this point, he was 14 years old. The counselling had stopped. And slowly, but surely, Armin's grandpa was dying. Armin had centred his safe place on his grandpa. Going to read books once and a while was what kept him sane, but what would he do? What could he do? When his safe place starts burning to the ground? Hurt. Armin began falling to pieces again. He'd moved in with his two closest friends-Eren and Mikasa. They were both over protective of him, Eren would read stories to Armin, even though he couldn't read stories aloud properly, and it gave Armin that little bit of life back in him. Mikasa would sing lullabies to Armin, sending him to a peaceful sleep. Then it happened. Those dreams, those memories, filling with Eren and Mikasa, even Armin's grandpa, screaming in absolute pain. They happened nearly every night, putting a lot of stress on Mikasa and Eren. Armin knew he had to find some way to keep the dreams at bay. Somehow. During Armin's 3rd year in middle school, he'd found his medicine.
Pain. Harm. Armin would self-harm. He'd do it every time he had a dream. It gradually made things better, making the dreams go away for a good month, it has hard on him. Armin had to wear long sleeves, making sure nobody saw. Saw the many scars along his arms. It's not that Armin hated life, he just, couldn't handle the dreams. Not one bit. And this, as strange as it sounds, was his way to escape them. Then 'he' came into Armin's life. A clean cut man, called Jean. Armin had started talking to the man during collage, and soon began feeling himself falling for him. It was all a stupid kids crush at first. But then it hit him. If Jean ever saw all the scars, and fresh cuts, would he ever be with him? No. That's the conclusion Armin had made.
In previous cases, when people had found out about the whole cutting, self-hate, they would slowly back out of Armin's life, not wanting to know a depressed 'emo' as he got called a lot. Even his old close friends backed out. It was too much for them. Jean was the first to confess, much to Armin's surprise. Armin still said no. His scars were too much. And then it came, the day Armin dreaded. It would have been okay had he been sleeping in his own house. It hit him. His night terrors. He had been sleeping round Jean's house. The two had fallen asleep on the couch together, staying up, Jean on the TV playing games, Armin reading. Armin's dream was horrible. Possibly the worst dream he'd ever experienced. Jean-Armin's first love dying. Getting ripped apart, piece by piece in-front of his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, of Jean's bathroom.
Jean's big eyes staring at Armin's tear fill eyes with concern. Armin seemed to have snapped out of his dream state. He peered down at his arms, shaking with the fear he'd just felt. A razor blade in one hand, and new cuts made on his arm. Ahh. Armin thought he'd been so used to cutting, he did it to get himself out of the state. Armin's gaze turned to the worried Jean. Jean's colour had completely been knocked of his face. "I-IDIOT!" Jean said, tears now forming. He pulled the shaken blonde into a strong embrace, not even caring about the blood, of the razor blade which had been dropped onto the floor, in between their bodies. "Jean…What..?" Armin, who was still confused, his brain now slowly catching up. "Don't scare me like that ever again! I was worried sick! I thought you were trying to kill yourself!" Armin could hear the tears in Jean's voice, pulling on Armin's heart strings, making tears fall from his eyes. "Sorry…" Armin croaked out, his voice breaking.
"It's okay. You're okay! I'm here for you!" Jean's embrace tightened around Armin. That was it. Armin broke. He'd been wanting to hear those words. From someone, anyone. Armin had been wanting someone that cared, someone that would be there for him. Armin collapsed into Jean's arms, wrapping his bleeding limbs around the other. Jean and Armin stayed tightly intertwined for what seemed days, but was merely minutes. After untangling themselves, Jean reassured Armin once again that everything was going to be okay.
To Armin's luck, things did get better. Jean and Armin started dating, and Jean had moved in with the blonde. The two were happy together. Armin had stopped cutting. Love being his new medicine. Jean never once winced at the scars. He loved them, seeing them as part of Armin. Jean would always sleep curled up, spooning Armin. He made sure to wake up before Armin, and to make sure Armin fell asleep before him. Armin had to occasional night terrors, making himself cut again, but he only ever did so when still in his disturbed state. He'd soon overcome it once he snapped out of his dreams and was once again reunited with Jean's face. The two had become inseparable, and lead a happy life together, never one fighting. Never once making the other one cry.
Jean. Jean was the man who got rid of the hurting, the pain, and the emptiness. Jean was, Armin's medicine.