Author's note:

If you have not read up to Chapter 50 (Volume 12) of the manga, then YOU WILL BE SPOILED. I'm sorry for those of you that have only seen the anime, but I'm not going to play it safe. This story takes place at the end of Volume 12, as a sort of alternate ending. If you're not afraid of spoilers, then there isn't a problem.

I do not own anything but the story itself. Attack on Titan (Shingeki No Kyojin) is belongs to Hajime Isayama.

"I come to you in pieces

so you can make me whole."

Red

Jean was floating in blackness, and then, he surfaced.

His eyes felt crusted shut. Slowly, he peeled them open, but when light shattered his vision he immediately regretted it. His head felt like a knife was whittling his brain, and he gasped as pain suddenly swept over him, from his temple all the way to his toes.

He moaned and struggled to sit up straight. His arms had melted to nothing but water, and after a few minutes of straining, he gave up and slumped back into the pillows.

He couldn't move his head, but he could still look around. His gaze swept to his right, where a line of cots were spread, limp bodies sprawled on top of them. He narrowed his eyes and made out a head of black hair, lolled back in an easy sleep.

Mikasa, he thought, as relief bloomed through him. That's right. She—

His body convulsed as his memories came rushing back, and then he was on fire again as his broken bones reacted to the movement. Shit, he thought, grinding his teeth. How bad is it? Did we…did we fail?

He watched the ceiling swim, straining to remember. His last memory was charging towards the Smiling Titan, which had been leering down at the still forms of Eren and Mikasa. Titans had been falling around them left and right like a hailstorm from Hell; Reiner had been flinging them off, trying to break free. Jean's heart had been smashing around in his chest like a frantic animal, and he was so choked with fear that he could hardly breathe.

Hurry! he'd screamed. Eren and Mikasa are—

JEAN!

Then light. Then nothing.

He was grateful for the blanket covering his body; he couldn't handle seeing the extent of the damage right now. He shifted his weight in order to seek some comfort, and something on his left moved.

He lay extremely still. His breathing was suspended, as if it wasn't sure whether it should continue. Trying to swallow his heart, he slid his eyes over to his side.

A body was slumped over him, his head resting against his forearm. His green cloak, emblazoned with the Wings of Freedom, was shorn on the right side. Jean couldn't see his face, but he knew the blond hair, billowed across the blanket. He recognized the hand that was tightly clutching his.

"Armin…?" he breathed.

His chest rose and fell; a soft snore emitted from his lips. He was fast asleep.

He heard footsteps approaching the room, and moments later a shadow fell over the doorway. Jean looked up to his visitor.

"Connie." A smile flickered on his lips. "Hey."

His friend's face broke out in relief. He returned his smile and staggered over, his step faltering as he tripped. He dragged a stool over and sat on Jean's other side. "Hey."

"I see your stupid face is still alive."

"Just barely," he admitted. "For a moment there, I…I wasn't sure we were going to make it." His grin threatened to wane, but then he caught it, though it looked too tight, too fake. His eyes broke away from Jean's face. "How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts." He flexed his toes under the blanket. "My lower body doesn't feel as bad as the rest of me, though." He tipped his head back, closing his eyes. "What happened to me?"

"You were knocked off of your horse by a Titan."

Jean stared up at the ceiling. Connie's words were jumbled up, mixed around, not making sense. "By a…."

JEAN!

"…a Titan?" he murmured.

Connie jerked his head over to Armin, who was still snoring. "You probably would've gotten eaten if it hadn't been for Armin."

Jean stared at the boy. His hair still curtained his face, and Jean wished he could move, brush it aside. "Really?"

"He leapt off of his horse and dragged you to safety. Even when Titans were swarming all around, he never let go of you. He refused to abandon you."

Armin snorted softly in his sleep. Jean turned his eyes back to Connie. "What happened, then? Did we…did we get Eren?" His voice fell apart as he spoke, fading into a whisper.

"Yeah," Connie said, and Jean let out a breath. "I'm not really sure what happened—no one is—but…."

"But what?"

"All of a sudden…the Titans charged at the Smiling Titan—the one who was about to eat Mikasa and Eren." He glanced behind him at Mikasa, who hadn't moved at all. "And then…."

Jean waited.

"They attacked Reiner and Bertolt. All of them."

"They—" Jean jerked up in shock, then hissed as pain bit him from every side, burning, tearing. Connie pushed him back down on the cot, his face pallid. Beside him, Armin sighed, shifted, then remained still.

Jean couldn't find any air. "They…they attacked Bertolt and Reiner?"

Connie nodded. His jaw was clenched so tight that Jean could see a muscle throbbing underneath the skin. "There's more," he went on. "Squad Leader Hange has a theory about…about where this group of Titans came from. She's taking me back to my hometown—Ragako Village—to test it. She thinks…." He took a great, shuddering breath. "That the Titans were formerly humans. And…."

Connie's eyebrows creased in the middle. His eyes were staring at something far away. "Krista…keeps claiming that her name is Historia."

Jean stared at him. His mind had turned off, like someone had blown out a candle and left his thoughts stumbling around in the dark. Then he just couldn't hold it in anymore.

He started laughing.

"Jean…?" Connie had looked concerned before, but now he looked absolutely neurotic.

Jean's insides felt ripped apart, but he couldn't stop. The laughter shook him until there was nothing left but the searing pain. Jean loved it; he clutched onto it. It was something real, something physical, something that wasn't just inside his head.

"Oh my god," he gasped, pausing for air. "I didn't think this world could get any fucking crazier."

Connie didn't respond. He looked only towards the floorboards, and then, after a moment: "You're surprised?"

Jean blinked. "You're not?"

Connie chuckled and swung his head back and forth. He looked like he'd just opened himself up, only to find that he was empty. Tears prickled his eyes, and that seemed to jar him; he abruptly stood, sliding back his stool. "I should go."

"Connie."

"I'm fine," Connie insisted, handing him the biggest pile of shit he could offer. "I'm just…tired."

Jean let him go. He watched his friend's back retreat before it slipped out the door.

He sighed, and even that hurt. He eyed the ceiling again and expected it to crumble, for a Titan to reach down and crush him in its fist. Why not? he figured, shutting his eyes. Connie's right—I shouldn't be surprised anymore. We still don't know who is behind all of this, who our true enemies are. We don't know their motives—and most importantly, we have absolutely no idea when the next breach will take place.

His entire body depressed. God, he thought. It's not 'if' anymore, is it? It's going to happen—and when it does, humanity will have to retreat inside Wall Sina. There won't be enough food; everyone will starve to death. Violence will break out in the streets as everyone turns on one another. Humans will eventually resort to killing each other in order to survive.

And then…Wall Sina would be—

He winced. He opened his eyes.

We're all going to die.

Movement caught his attention over on his left. He looked and saw Armin sit up, digging at his eyes and pushing his hair out of his face. He was mumbling inaudibly. Jean caught his face in profile, and something heavy swept through him, washed everything out, leaving a cold emptiness.

Armin's eyes—clear blue, almost diamonds—were burning red. His skin looked so ashen, Jean could cut it and peel it away as paper.

Of everything that'd happened—everything—Jean couldn't bear this the most.

"Armin," he breathed.

Armin gasped, bristling. He snapped his head toward Jean and color filtered in his cheeks.

"Jean…," he choked. "You're okay." He moved, as if to hug him, but then drew back, realizing his mistake.

"Not really," Jean said. "But I am alive—thanks to you."

Armin ducked his head. "I-I couldn't just leave you there."

"Couldn't you? You'd risk losing two lives instead of one?"

Armin laughed. "I took a gamble," he said. "I figured it was worth the chance of saving both of us."

Jean watched him. He moved the puzzle pieces around in his head. "Why?"

Armin frowned. "Why what?"

"It's just…you're worth more than a hundred soldiers, Armin. Probably more. You're not physically strong, but I've heard you talk. You have the most brilliant mind among us. You could make some of the biggest moves in this…this war." He swallowed. "You already have."

Armin wasn't breathing.

"But to put yourself at your weakest, to…to risk the most important player on the board…for me? Why would you do that?"

Armin didn't move. Then, as he came back to his senses, he drew in his eyebrows and looked Jean firmly in the eye.

"I'm not," he stated. "I'm not more important than you. Maybe some are stronger than others, maybe some are smarter…but I'm just a pawn. You are too. That's all we are, in the end."

Jean stared.

"We move around the board, knocking off pieces little by little to get to the end, so we can take back more important pieces. We sacrifice ourselves to protect a King who barely moves. We gain and then we lose them all over again, fighting a war where, eventually, there will be few left.

"Then…the king will eventually fall."

Silence wrapped around them. Neither of them could meet each other's gaze.

Jean soaked in the quiet for a moment longer, then broke it. "I changed my mind. You're an idiot."

Armin snorted. He wiped at his face and Jean realized he might've been crying. "Why? Because I tell the truth?"

"No," he said. "Because you stay stuff that pisses me off. Why do you think I don't get along with Eren?"

Armin laughed, and it sounded almost genuine. They didn't speak for a while, but this time, the silence didn't feel quite so uninvited.

"Armin," he whispered. "Thank you…for saving my life."

Armin nodded. "Of course."

Jean strained himself, and with all of the effort he could muster, he tilted his head towards him. "Hey, Armin."

"Yeah?"

"Come here for a second."

Armin stood up and moved closer to the bed. He hovered over it, as if unsure what to do.

"Closer."

He leaned in, and Jean could see that furrow between his eyebrows, just over his nose.

"Closer," he repeated.

Armin was a quick thinker, and he soon realized Jean's intentions. Jean saw his body jerk when it came to him, but he only hesitated a second before he moved in.

Their lips brushed, then touched. Jean's eyes threatened to fall closed, but he held them open to a slit. He opened his mouth and invited him in; his heart rushed, its beat in his ears, and the cover of his skin felt like something was burning underneath.

Armin drank him. He accepted his mouth with his, running over him slowly, gently. Their tongues found each other and Jean broke out in shivers. They were both burning, but softly, because fragile things broke if you didn't treat them so.

Armin drew his lips back, pulling slowly as if it hurt to break away. He stared into Jean's eyes, and he was so close Jean was sure he could see through them.

"Why?" he asked, his voice only a croak.

Jean smiled sadly. "It was the only thing I could give you that wasn't in pieces."