two
The Scarf

The sun was setting as Jean broke through the tree line. Mikasa had kept pace with him, if a bit lazy in some of her actions, distracted. He could notice a clear difference from before, when they had soared side-by-side as if reading the others thoughts. Least, that was how he thought it went.

Squinting away the sun, Jean looked below for their group. The rest of the squad wasn't too far off, but they were already moving away. Titans were still after them. Jean hit the ground, no longer able to use his gear now that they were in the open. He started running. Mikasa was a pace behind but he could hear the light thudding sound of her boots on the dirt.

The main of their group was gaining more ground, growing smaller over a small rise of grass. The hell? The titans must have been closer than he thought if they weren't willing to wait. He was beginning to feel the exertion in his lungs, his muscles were burning. They had already been through a lot that day and it was starting to take its toll. He wasn't a machine. He needed a drink more than anything right then. In fact, he was pretty sure he had sweated all the water from his body.

Jean was reflecting on how much he loved horses. How they ran so he didn't have to. Carried his stuff. He didn't know which he wanted more, water or a horse. He even thought he could hear hoof beats in the distance. They must have been closer than he thought if he could hear the main force of the squad from their position. His heart soared. Maybe it was possible to catch up on foot…

"Hey!" The human voice brought him skidding to a halt. He kicked up dirt and grass as he tried to stop. When he turned to look behind him, the woods now in the distance, he recognized some members of his own squad with some extra horses. Mikasa was already on hers, looking at the ground. Jean tired not to worry about it, but it made no difference. His eyes were finding her more than usual as he attempted to assure himself that she was fine. She looked like herself, maybe. But there was sadness now. It was clear in the depths of her eyes, the set of her lips, her posture.

Connie, Sasha, and two newer soldiers only a few months out of training had waited. Amber Laclind was a spirited girl with short wisps of hair that fell over one eye. She held the reins to one of the extra horses, tossing them down to Jean.

"Three teams didn't make it back." Her soft brown eyes were sad as she spoke, but her voice was casual. It's not the first time she'd had to report friends and comrades missing. The leather in Jean's hands groaned as his fingers twisted. They'd split into seven pairs back in the woods. Fourteen people. Six of them were unaccounted for, probably dead. Six. He threw his leg over the saddle, his side flaring with pain, but he bit it back. He'd hoped…well, it had been an idiot's hope.

"I had them save horses for the two of you." Sasha rode up next to him and Jean nodded his thanks. Then he was quiet.

Croft Shor had been Mikasa's partner when they had split up. He liked to keep to himself, not shy but not the most talkative. There ends of his copper hair were sticking to his forehead with dried blood. He kept his head bowed while they rode. They began to close the gap between them and their squad, the titans that had been pursuing them in the forest had fallen too far behind. They were dispersing, every glance over his shoulder he saw less of them until there was no sign of titans on any side.

Their stopping point was the remains of a village from before Wall Maria fell. Night was falling which meant they would find relative safety from titan attack. At least until the sun came up. Jean handed over his horse to be fed and watered when they arrived. He pushed the hair from his forehead, ruffling it up since sweat had made it stick to his scalp. Mikasa arrived back before him, and once she'd reached the safety of the town he'd lost sight of her. Maybe it was for the better. He was worrying too much already and he had his own things to take care of. Like the dull roar in his side.

Jean was marching through the idle crowd of soldiers, head down and feet determined. His intentions had been to see to his own wound, find something to eat and drink, wash the grime from his skin and hair, but he was brought up short by a voice from his left. Her voice stopped him right in his tracks, his eyes turning before his head.

"It's nothing." Mikasa was talking to Eren. He supposed it was stupid to be surprised.

"If you're sure." Eren shrugged, focusing on the bowl in his lap. Mikasa hovered near his shoulder, her fingers tracing circles on her neck, poking at her collar. What a fucking dumb ass. Was Eren really that dense? Was it really so hard for him not to notice? Jean's fingers turned to fists because he noticed. He would have noticed, if he had been in Eren's place. And he wouldn't have been okay with such an obvious attempt to play off her anxiety.

Jean had never pictured himself as truly jealous. His plans for his own life had been pretty straight forward, and he was confident enough in himself to see it to the end. Join the Military Police. Live life nice. Have money enough not to worry. Have a full, warm meal every day. But he hadn't gotten any of that. Instead he was trudging it out with the Survey Corps. He hadn't eaten a warm meal in weeks. He was bone weary every night and every morning he set out to break himself all over again. Living was a game of chance, almost as much as skill. If he survived a day then he was thankful. And worst of all, the worst part of it, was that he was bitterly envious of some dumb kid no older or better than he was.

He didn't even really hate Eren all that much. He didn't really like him, but that was just because it was easier for them to yell at each other than be civil. No, what he hated is how she looked at Eren. How oblivious Eren was to it. And how it didn't seem to ever change.

As he stood, fuming silently, Mikasa had noticed. Her eyes drifted up, casually moving over his face and stealing all the pain from that day. Like a spell that kept all those negative things at bay, her eyes lingered. He didn't move. His mouth probably fell open like an idiot and his heart was working up again. Beating hard against his chest. And as she looked her finger stopped moving over the exposed skin around her neck and she delicately, subtly, twisted the not-quite-a-ring on her finger.

Blood swarmed straight to his cheeks. Her eyes had fallen back on Eren, somberly, but she was now twirling that ring on her finger. He forgot that he was dirty, that he smelled, that the day was lingering in his pores and the fabric of his clothes. He forgot all of that and just…stood there. Cause he was a true idiot and he didn't know how to handle this. After several minutes he stepped toward her. Like…maybe he could say something now. Maybe they were at that point. Where he could just walk up to her and causally throw out an, 'It's a nice night.' Or 'Glad you made it back.' Or 'Nice work out there.'

Mikasa noticed him walking and drew her eyes up again, making him hesitate.

"What's up, Kirstein?" Eren looked up from his food. He didn't seem combative, but the question sounded challenging. Or maybe that was just Jean's imagination.

"Uh…" He forgot words. Mikasa was still looking at him, but had dropped her hands to her side then behind her back. He faltered.

"You look terrible." There wasn't actually any challenge in Eren's voice. He was being completely civil. But Jean's ire was spiking anyway. He was partly embarrassed and still mostly pissed that Eren, the oblivious idiot, could so easily ignore the incredible woman behind him. "You should get cleaned up with others and get something to eat before it's gone."

"I…" He tore his eyes from Mikasa, pain flaring up again and souring his mood even further. "I don't need you to tell me that."

Eren's eyes narrowed. "You're the one who walked over here."

Shit. How did he continually manage to lose all his fucking wits in these situations? "Not for you."

"Huh?" Eren seemed genuinely confused, and Mikasa was now looking away, her lip between her teeth. "What are you talking about? You were clearly walking toward me…"

"No, I wasn't." Jean looked away, fists clenched at his sides. "Just forget it."

"Yeah, fine." Jean stomped away, probably a bit childishly, but he felt like a child. He felt like a dumb stupid child who had let a pretty girl render him a complete idiot. He walked well past where he needed to go, head still fuming, and then back tracked to the temporary barracks. He scrubbed his skin raw and accidentally popped a button off his shirt. He gulped down water until he felt like he was going to throw up and then sat with his cold plate of whatever the cook had scraped from the bottom. The bread was hard and his hands still shook as he wolfed it down because he was so fucking hungry.

His right side was bruised and tender; the skin was puffy and starting to morph into ugly colors. It would hurt for awhile and he'd have to stick to his left hand, but he was better off than most. When he finished eating, his plate balanced on his knee, he heard a sound from beside him that made him move and send his plate and fork tumbling into the dirt.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Sasha bent next to him, holding up the fallen dishes. "Hey, are you finished with this?" She held up the last bite of roll and Jean waved in confirmation. The sounds she made while eating were inhuman. He cringed backward, guarding himself from the spray of crumbs.

Sasha wiped her mouth and sighed happily, her tongue hanging out.

"Is that all you wanted?" He spoke harshly, not in the mood for company.

"No." Sasha tore her hands from her cheeks where she'd been caressing herself. Her smile faded and grew more serious as she kneeled down and put her hands on his knee. Jean recoiled, looking around quickly to make sure they weren't noticed. It looked like…well, her position was entirely too friendly for his taste. He carefully pushed her sideways and off his leg.

"I wanted to talk to you about Mikasa." Sasha's eyes misted and Jean found he no longer wished to be part of this conversation.

"I don't know what you think I'd have to say about her." He said bluntly, crossing his arms.

"I was there with you. I saw her…" Sasha shook her head. "I'm sorry I lost her scarf."

Jean felt a small amount of relief that the subject was not his feelings for Mikasa, but rather Mikasa herself. He relaxed. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, but I still feel horrible. Did you see her face? I…" She balled up her fist and forced them into her eyes, rubbing hard. "I only just realized that I have never seen Mikasa without it. All these years she's had that scarf and I'm the one that lost it for her. I just…you talked to her after I left. Is she…is she okay?"

Jean considered lying, just to ease Sasha's conscious. But then, he was never very good at holding back the truth. "Honestly, I don't think so."

Sasha choked and a few tears fell free from her eyes.

"Look, it doesn't matter now. Mikasa's tough. She'll be fine eventually." Maybe. Hopefully. He really wasn't sure anymore.

"I should apologize to her." Sasha lamented. "I think I owe her that much. Since she worked to save me."

Jean shrugged. "You can, but I think it's best not to bring it up. But do what you want."

"Yeah." Sasha rose to her feet, wiping off her knees. "I think you might be right. Still, I wish I could get it back for her." She beamed, looking down at him and seemingly back to her former cheer. "By the way, you know you're missing a button, right?"

Jean sighed, his arms crossed over his chest and his patience already spent. He didn't even bother with a reply before Sasha was skipping away and he was once again in peace. He extended his legs and leaned back, his seat a crate positioned against wood siding of some poor soul's former house. Up above the stars were out and he had a clear view as he let the cool breeze ruffle his hair and clothes. It felt good to just sit for a second. To have a chance to think.

People had passed him by over the next half hour, but his luck was holding. Bad luck. Eren and Mikasa were in front of him, Eren's voice ringing clear through the crisp night air. He opened his eyes, having nearly dozed off where he sat, but neither of them noticed him this time.

"I'm right, after all." Eren said, once again his eyes were not on Mikasa but forward. "I've seen the…Mikasa?"

She stopped short, looking up as if she had just noticed Eren standing there. "Mikasa, what's wrong? You've been acting weird since you got back."

Her fingers fluttered over her bare neck, her eyes turning away. "It's nothing."

Finally, Eren seemed to notice. He pointed to her hands, eyebrows knit in concern. "Where's your scarf?"

She shuddered, looking away. "I…I lost it." Then she was spinning toward him, taking his hands in hers. "I'm so sorry. I lost it. I lost your gift to me."

"What? No, Mikasa, it's fine." He didn't reach out to her, but stood there confused as her shoulders rose and fell. She needed him, couldn't he tell? She was practically begging him to react, to reach out to her, to hold her. "Hey, don't worry about it. We'll get you another one."

Mikasa looked into Eren's eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. "E…Eren?"

"Yeah." He smiled, confident. He ruffled her hair. "We'll get you another one just like it. Okay? Don't worry about it Mikasa." He seemed to feel this was enough, that she should feel better, comforted.

"I…right." She wiped her tears on her fingers, pulling away from him. "You're right. But I don't need another one."

"Are you sure? Cause, I don't think it'll be much trouble to—"

"I don't." She was a bit forceful and that caught Eren by surprise. He blinked. "I don't need another. Thank you, Eren. For thinking of me. But it was just a scarf. It's fine."

She pushed past Eren, leaving him scratching his head. What a moron. Jean jumped up from his seat without thinking. The crate he was using over turned and his plate was forgotten. He was sprinting, feeling urgency but not quite knowing what he would do when he caught her. Mikasa had nearly disappeared from his sight but he found her, squeezed into the shadow between two buildings, leaning back as she stroked her neck.

Jean hesitated. He didn't know if he should approach her. When he stepped toward her, her head snapped in his direction. He held his arms out, a sign of his good intentions.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

Mikasa let out a breath, turning her face away. "Do not follow me."

"I…"

She turned to leave, but he called her name and that stopped her. Her back was to him now. Jean took another cautious step.

"If you want me to leave you alone I will—"

"I do."

His lips quirked at the corner, a smile creeping up on him unbidden. "Okay. But…if you want…anything. Anything at all…just, uh, you can just ask. Okay? Don't worry about it. Uh, alright, Mikasa?" Her name was revered on his lips, savored as he spoke. She didn't seem to move for some time and then she was leaving. Walking away and then gone.

Jean wandered back to the barracks. His hands were deep in his pockets, his mind drifting. He couldn't indulge the whim that had centered in his brain. Like an itch the idea was consuming his focus. But it was a crazy idea. A dumb idea. The worst idea.

He nudged the door open with his boot, walking inside without paying attention. Most of his squad mates were already asleep. He sat on his bed, staring at the stone walls. Over and over he replayed the scene with Eren and Mikasa. Over and over. Over and over. It was so clear to him. Everything she had said, everything she'd done. But Eren couldn't see it. Eren loved her, that was apparent, but he didn't fully understand.

Jean looked outside the window, the black sky still full of stars and moonlight. If he did it…he could easily die. In fact, it was likely. And for what? For a smile from her? On the off chance that he got a sincere thank you? For the look on her face when he showed up with that scarf in his hands?

No, none of that was the true root of this. It was because Mikasa needed it. She said she didn't, but she did. She said she would be fine, and sure, in time, she would be. These things happen all the time. But…

Jean rubbed his face in his hands. It was true, what they said. Love made you foolish.

Quietly, Jean went to the canvas bag stored near his bed. He started fixing the straps for his gear over his night clothes, not even bothering with the full uniform. This was not a Survey Corps mission. This was just him and an apparent death wish.

The straps fit awkwardly over his clothes, but no one was going to see him. Slipping into the night, he picked out some gear and some swords, though he didn't imagine he'd be fighting any titans so late at night. But if he was going to do something stupid and reckless, he'd do it as smart as possible.

The tricky part was the horse. He needed one if he hoped to make it there and back before morning or before collapsing. On his way to figure it out he grabbed a lantern with a focused beam. Once he lit it he could use it to see into the trees. He was confident enough in his sense of direction to find his way back. Still, it was a long shot that any of this would prove fruitful. He might die out there or he might make it back with nothing to show for it. Both were more likely than success.

There were guards on the outer edges of the town, all keeping a watch for anything suspicious. But all their eyes were trained for the distance, not for up close. Jean fitted a horse, shhing it as he prepared the basic saddle and nothing else. Then he gently eased it outside. There was a rise not too far off that, if he could make it there quietly, then he could ride the rest of the way out of sight.

The process was slow. He was crouched, even though his horse was still pretty obvious. The grass crunched underfoot and he kept his eyes alert for anything. He'd never been on his own like this. Wandering into known titan territory without any backup or friends. Nothing. Just him and a horse.

He broke the hill and started down it. When he looked back, he couldn't see the village anymore. Throwing up his hood, his cloak being the only piece of uniform he grabbed and that was because it was chilly, he got on the horse. They made the distance in an hour, Jean working to keep his bearings as they ran. The woods were in front of him now and he was about where they had come out. Maybe off by half a mile in either direction.

Jean dismounted, tying down his horse before starting up the lantern. He lit the wick and worked the door that focused the light. Shining it upward all he saw were branches and shadows. It was impossible to make out anything definitive. Though, he was sure that a red scarf would stand out…hopefully.

Jean walked, his head focused up and the light spanning out among the trees. The beam wasn't strong enough to reach all the way up, but he'd approach that problem if he needed to. As he walked, sticks and leaves cracking under his weight, he smacked into something solid. Jean stepped backward, holding the light in front of him.

The lantern fell from his fingers, sweat slicking his grip. He trembled and fear rooted him in place. A titan breathed calmly in front of him, eyes closed. The breath from its nose fluttered the ends of Jean's cloak and the fringes of his hair.

Jean's heart pounded hard in his chest. He sucked in air as quietly as possible. It wasn't going to wake up. It wasn't going to wake up. He chanted this to himself as he bent, eyes still on the titan, and picked up the lantern. The light shook with the tremble in his hands and he used his free hand to steady his wrist.

Carefully he moved around it, careful not to get too far into the woods. His nerves began to settle as the quiet kept up. For a long time there was nothing. No sudden sounds. No finding the scarf. Nothing but his growing frustration.

This had to be the craziest thing he'd ever done. Over a scarf? A piece of fabric and he was out here instead of sleeping. He was risking injury or death, he was risking Captain Levi's wrath if he found out. All over this damn scarf. And what made it worse… What made it hurt? The fact that this scarf was a symbol of her connection to Eren. Somehow, that didn't actually matter except to piss him off. It would be better for him to let her forget the scarf entirely. Maybe let her use the ring he had given her for comfort. But he couldn't be that selfish with her. Not at the expense of her feelings.

"I'm never going to find this stupid thing." He said into the night. He'd combed the woods, mindful of the time. In an hour he'd have to head back regardless or risk being caught with the rising sun.

He walked until he tripped over a root, knees crashing onto the ground and the lantern falling away and extinguished in an instant. Jean caught his breath for a second, trying to focus. He had already made the decision, he needed to stick with it. Fingers dragging into the dirt he pushed himself upright. He was on his knees when he heard movement.

Something was moving leaves not far from him. Jean's eyes were wide, hoping to see something in the dim moonlight creeping through the canopy. He scrambled for the lantern, but he didn't have time to light it. Whatever it was, it had started to growl. Deep loud rumbling sounds that rattled his heart in his chest and chilled him with fear. What the fuck was out there?

Jean tucked the lantern on his belt and took out his swords, scaling up a tree and to relative safety in an instant. He looked around the floor, trying to see what had made the sound.

Another loud roar and he was spinning again, looking in the dim light for anything. After a second he realized that what he had mistaken for nothing, just a large shadow, was in fact moving. He readied his swords, looking down at the creature crawling on all fours. It was massive, the shape suggesting that it was covered in fur.

Then he managed to light the lantern and shine it down. A bear. It set its front paws on the tree and Jean watched it, partly curious. He'd never seen one before. Not that wasn't a picture. It's teeth reflected the light, making him recoil. He did not want to face it that was for sure. But then his jaw dropped. The bear was climbing.

Bears climbed trees. Jean had no way of knowing that. You didn't learn about bears in school. He wasn't trained to fight bears. How the hell was he supposed to know? Jean's fear kept him moving. The bear had moved easily up the tree and was pacing on the branch Jean had just left.

He'd faced numerous battles, fought and killed titans, and he was losing it to a bear. But part of that fear stemmed from the unknown. He didn't know what this bear was capable of. He didn't know how to fight it. He assumed that like any animal, you stab it and it dies, but his uncertainty made him stay away from it. He kept his sights on the bear, jumping further and further from its reach.

Now that he wasn't looking, his eyes caught the flutter of red. Up above him, back toward the bear, Mikasa's scarf was blowing in the wind, hooked by thin branch. The 3DMG didn't work that high, there was nothing to grab onto. So Jean, still wary of the bear, used it to get as high as he could before he had to climb. The branches grew thinner and thinner, some of them snapping under his weight. The wind made the tree sway and he clung to it, nearly falling at first.

But he was so close. He could see it just over head. Jean reached out, but was too far. He climbed a bit closer, the tree leaning with him and grabbed, but missed. Cursing, he clung to the tree as it swayed back and then hovered. The wind was picking up. The twig holding the scarf in place was shaking violently. Jean made a quick decision, sucking in air, and then throwing himself upward. His fingers closed around the scarf but the world had fallen out from under him. He fell, branches catching his clothes and cheeks. He was falling fast, but he was able to use his gear to keep from serious injury. He collapsed on a branch wide enough to support him. The scarf was in his hand, still trying to escape into the wind.

Jean made it back to his horse easily. He avoided the bear and sleeping titan, escaping the trees and walking the rest of the way. The horse seemed indifferent to his return, but Jean was happy enough for both. He took the scarf and wrapped it around his neck, feeling that to be the best way of carrying it. As he took his place in the saddle, he breathed deep, inhaling the cotton around his neck.

If this scarf had once been Eren's, there was no proof of that anymore. Mikasa had saturated every fiber. Her scent clung into the threads and nearly stopped his heart. The scent was both exhilarating and comforting. He wanted to smother his face in it. He wanted to bury himself in that scent and never wake up. Jean pulled the ends up and over his mouth and nose. He breathed happily for the rest of the ride.

Getting back without notice was difficult. He had to wait and time his actions for blind spots. The soldiers on sentry were not fully aware since it was nightfall, and that worked to his advantage. The sky was still deep navy, but it was starting to lighten. He situated the horse, petting it fondly. They were both in for a long day without much rest. He was grateful for its help.

Once he was back on the dirt roads, no longer afraid to arouse suspicion, his pace slowed. He was aching all over, but excitement was buzzing in his hands and stomach. He didn't know what he was going to do. Just walk up and give it to her? He tried to picture her face in his mind, to imagine her reaction. In one scenario she had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him, but that wasn't likely to really happen. It made him blush happily, though.

In the end, he didn't have the nerve. He didn't want to contaminate the gesture with his dumb words. So he walked up to her bed and draped the scarf over her, careful not to upset her sleep. He allowed himself one moment to watch her sleep, just one moment or it might look creepy. Then he slipped away and found his own bed. He worked out of the straps, kicking off his boots as he moved. The shirt he wore was now dirty, but he didn't bother to change. He fell onto the bed and shut his eyes. He had about two hours before he'd have to wake up. He was snoring softly in seconds, his body beyond tired. Had it been worth it? He couldn't answer that. Not really. He just knew that it felt right. He felt better knowing that when she woke up, she'd be happy. Even if it didn't show, she would be. That was enough. That was all he needed. He didn't even need to be there or for her to know he had done all that for her. He wasn't after her praise. He wasn't after recognition. He just wanted her to be happy.

A/N: There is going to be one more chapter. I'm sorry the shippy parts of this are so subtle, I just wanted to keep it realistic. On the realism note, I realize the actual notion that he might do this in this sort of environment and all is unlikely. But I have to take some liberties and I tried to get him to that decision believably. And my knowledge is based solely on the anime, so this isn't going to fit in with any known story arcs. There next chapter is going to be more focused on specifically Jean and Mikasa. Thank you for reading and for those that reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback. ^_^