Jean felt his mother grip his hand tight as Hanji gave them the solemn news. He bit his lip, refusing eye contact with anyone in the room. He felt angry tears well up in his eyes, but furiously blinked them away before anyone could notice. Jean caught site of Armin frantically burying his face in his book, obviously trying not to intrude.

Jean appreciated his efforts.

"...he'll be able to walk though, correct?" Jean's mother asked Hanji, frantically searching the Auburn haired woman's face for answers.

"Correct, but he'll have a bad limp." Hanji confirmed, a look of remorse on her face. "He'll need to stay here until his legs are healed, once he's on his feet we can discuss his position in the Corps. It's possible we could find him a job at base alongside Armin." She explained, gesturing to the only other patient in the room.

"You mean there's a chance I can stay?" Jean perked up, "what would I do?"

"Ah, well, Armin's going to help us with strategizing here at base… you're a pretty quick thinker yourself, So there's a chance Erwin would allow you to join the team." Hanji explained thoughtfully.

Nodding, Jean felt himself relax a bit. Hanji continued explaining the physical therapy process to his mother, and before long, she's being ushered to sign consent forms in Hanji's office. When the door shuts, and the two women are gone, the Infirmary is left in a state of silence. Yawning, Jean began to nod off until he was startled awake by Armin.

"I'm sorry about your legs." Armin muttered, turning to face the brunette. The gashes on his body were beginning to scar, leaving rough pink lines instead of the angry red ones. His wrist was no longer bandaged, but his right eye was as unfocused as ever.

"I'm sorry about your eye." Jean responded softly, "guess we're both permanently damaged."

"Heh… yeah, I guess so," Armin smiled at him softly, brushing blonde bangs out of his face. Jean felt his cheeks begin to heat up, but chalked it up to a slight fever. After all, what else could it be?

Shaking his head to bury the thoughts, Jean reached over to grab a tin of cookies his mother had brought him. Popping the lid, he couldn't help but smile as the smell of his mothers homemade chocolate chip cookies wafted through the air. He took one out, and was about to return the tin to his bedside table when he noticed Armin looking at him. "What?" He questioned, taking a bite of the cookie.

Armin's face went red as he quickly looked away. "Sorry! I just… " he trailed off, face going redder as Jean continued to stare.

"You just what?"

Armin mumbled something inaudible, head now in his hands. Raising an eyebrow, Jean asked him to repeat himself, reaching for another cookie as he awaited an answer.

"I-I… just, haven't had a cookie in a long time." The petite male choked out, head still in his hands, the parts of his face visible to Jean beet red.

"Well, do you want one?" Jean asked, grabbing a cookie from the bin and holding it out for him.

"Huh?..."

"Do you want a cookie?" Jean reiterated, smiling amusedly. Shyly, Armin nodded, removing his hands from his face as he slowly got up to walk to Jean's bed. When he reached it, he hesitated.

"You're sure?..."

"Just take the damn cookie, Arlert." Jean grinned, shoving it into small hands. Jean snickered at the squeak Armin emits, face still impossibly red as he choked out an embarrassed "thank you" before shuffling back to his own bed. Armin held the dessert with both hands, nibbling at it softly. He avoided eye contact with Jean. Said brunette couldn't help but grin at how cute the display was.

Wait, cute? Confused by his own thoughts, Jean shook his head and put the cookie tin back into the nightstands drawer. Jean was just about to ask Armin something when the door burst open.

"Armin!"

It was Eren Yeager.

Groaning, Jean pulled his pillow over his head, already getting a headache from Eren's loud voice. Seriously, how did Armin put up with this guy?

Seemingly noticing Jean's groan, Eren turned to him. "Ugh, I guess horse-face finally woke up." He muttered, taking a seat on Armin's bed. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that everyday. You must be going crazy, maybe you can request to get out of here early and go back to the rooms with me. I'd look after ya good, and you wouldn't have to deal with him anymore than you already do."

Armin glared at Eren, voice low in a warning tone. "He's hurt too you know. Show some compassion."

Eren let out a "Hmph" as he crossed his arms, glaring at the wall, obviously not to pleased with Armin sticking up for Jean. "Whatever."

Jean begins to retort, pissed over Eren's words, when Armin cut in to defuse the situation.

"He's a nice guy, Eren. Just because you two have your issues doesn't mean I can't be friends with him." Armin's defends, surprising both boys. Jean couldn't help but grin as he peaked at Armin from underneath the pillow. His grin only widening when Armin smiled back, a happy gleam in his eye.

Eren's growing annoyance was evident, which made Jean even happier. The brunette huffed through his nose angrily, before he finally responded.

"Man, these pain meds must be really strong to make you think Horse-face is good company." Eren laughed bitterly, trying to play off the situation. He lays down next to Armin, who just rolled his eyes, calling him mean, before leaning into the titan-shifters embrace.

For whatever reason, the action sent a weird feeling through Jean's being. He felt strange, almost… uncomfortable? Or maybe angry was a better word… whatever it was, He hadn't realized how hard he'd began gripping his pillow until Armin spoke to him again, bringing him out of his stupor. "Are you okay, Jean?"

Eren glared, "he's just jealous because he wants to be the one in bed with you. Dirty pervert." He muttered in annoyance, casting a very dirty look at Jean. Jean couldn't tell if Eren was serious or just trying to start a fight. Either way, Jean was annoyed.

Armin flushed, slightly smacking Eren's arm. His voice a higher pitch than normal. He was clearly embarrassed. "Don't make jokes like that. It's rude and n-not true."

Jean doesn't miss the stutter.

"Who said I was joking?" Eren bit back, clearly miffed.

Armin sat up, pulling out of Eren's embrace as he once again began to lecture him about being nicer to Jean. Eren simply glowered, refusing eye contact with either boy.

Jean felt hot again as he watched the interaction, the feeling from earlier replaced by what Jean quickly recognized as anger, a very intense, upsetting anger that settled in the pit of his stomach. As he continued to watch the two best friends squabble, the feeling only grew. Finally looking away, he felt his face heating up once more. His fingers gripped the bed sheets tightly in an attempt to hold his tongue.

"Shut up Yeager." He Growled, casting a dirty glance at the male. Both boys stared each other down. Armin sighed as Jean yanked the pillow back over his head in an attempt to fall back asleep, all the while Eren continued to belittle him loudly in the background. Armin continued to defend the two toned male to his best friend, even though Eren clearly had his mind set.

Jean couldn't wait for Eren to leave.

—-

The first thing Jean noticed was the screaming.

loud, piercing sounds shooting through the open field. All different pitches, all from different directions. The sounds bounced around in his skull, torturing his mind as he was forced to endure the noise of such suffering.

The second thing he noticed was the sky. How the clouds drifted lazily in the vast, endless blue. The way the sun shined brightly, blindingly so. A squawking flock of birds flew overhead, seemingly obvious to the massacre below them.

Oh how Jean longed for such ignorance.

The third thing Jean noticed was the blood. It was everywhere, the grass, the bodies, the discarded gear…

Blonde hair.

The fourth thing he noticed was Armin, motionless on the ground. Blonde hair matted with blood, his right wrist bent unnaturally. His gear was extremely damaged, blades seemingly snapped into pieces. Jean couldn't tell if he was even still breathing. Blood was everywhere, staining his white pants a sickly red. A sickly sharp contrast against his pale skin. His chest didn't seem to be moving.

Please still be breathing.

Please. I can't be the only one left. Please Armin, please keep breathing.

Please.

In the distance, he could hear yelling. Not the horrid shriek of a soldier approaching death, but one of authority.

"Check for survivors!"

Jean weakly lifted his head, trying his best to show any sign of life. He heard the sound of a horse's hooves coming closure, the wheels of a cart not far behind. He's being lifted, a horrible surge of pain caused him to cry out. Black spots clouded his vision. He'd lose consciousness soon. But even with the world going black, and voices muffling, he heard four words crystal clear;

"Arlert's still breathing sir!"

He's still breathing.

Jean awoke in a cold sweat, heart beating out his chest because of the memory. Flashes of his fellow squad mates hit him as if he'd just now realized he and Armin were the only survivors.

He and Armin were the only survivors.

He and Armin were the only survivors.

Jean leaned over the bed rails, dispelling the contents from his stomach onto the infirmary's floor. His mind raced as he finally came to terms with what had truly happened. His entire squad, as well as most of the right wing, had been eradicated. He and Armin were the only survivors from their squad, he was never going to walk properly again. Armin's partially blind, they'll both have to deal with these disabilities for the rest of their lives-

pJean's body had resorted to dry heaving. Tears welled in his eyes at the burning sensation in his throat and nose as he gripped the bed rails. He's shaking, breathing heavily as he panicked. He felt hot, too hot, yet cold at the same time. A sob choked it's way out of his throat in between gags as the gravity of the situation settled in him.

I'll never walk properly again.

The heaving slowly subsided as he began to sob. His sweaty forehead rested against the cool metal of the bed rails. Jean gripped his short locks tightly and pulled, letting out a muffled scream into his forearm as he did.

Jean jerked when two skinny arms gently wrapped around his twisted torso, but relaxed when he heard Armin's voice. The blonde began whispering soft words of comfort into his ear. He sits up properly, shifting so Armin's hugging him from the side, still whispering to him.

"I went through this too. It just sort of hits out of nowhere. It'll pass."

Wrapping his arms around Armin, Jean buried his face in his hair. The sobs still wracking his larger frame. "I won't be able to walk properly anymore." He whispers out, voice catching.

"I know." Armin's voice sounded thick with emotion, "it's hard to accept. But you will, eventually."

"Have you accepted that you won't be able see normally?" Jean wondered, voice slightly muffled by Armin's hair.

Armin sighed, rubbing Jean's back in an attempt to calm and soothe the brunette. "Not fully. I had my breakdown already, before you woke up. Just sorta hit me out of nowhere like yours did. I'll come to accept it fully in time, you will too."

Letting out a shaky breath, Jean leaned into the blondes light touches. He felt much better hearing that Armin, too, had broken down. It made him feel less alone. "How'd you get through your breakdown?"

"Eren and Mikasa. They were here when it happened, one minute I was fine, eating dinner, the next I was just crying about how I'd never be the same." Armin explained, continuing to try and soothe Jean's worries. "I mean, it's normal. We have life altering injuries, and couple that with the survivors guilt…"

Jean shivered as the images of his dead comrades once again flashed through his brain. Their piercing screams made his ears ring, red blood stained the ground, Armin's motionless body-

"Jean, are you okay?"

Jean squeezed his eyes shut, gripping onto Armin to ground himself as the memories flooded his mind once more. Sighing shakily, he nuzzled Armin's hair in a search of comfort. "Y-Yeah… Sorry." He muttered, pulling Armin closure.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Armin asked, pulling away to look into Jean's hazel eyes.

"What?"

"Do you want me to lie in bed with you until you fall asleep?" Armin repeated, concern laced in his voice. "You seem reluctant to let me go, I think it would help you."

Jean felt his face heat up, refusing eye contact. "A-ah, you don't have too… I just… "

"Jean, c'mon." Armin started. "I want to help you."

Biting his lip, Jean agreed awkwardly, still refusing eye contact. He lays down, face a furious red. Armin lays down next to him, being careful of Jean's legs. The blonde smiles at him softly, his left eye full of warmth.

"Is there anything I can do to comfort you?" Armin asked, warm breath hitting his cheek.

"Let me play with your hair." Jean blurted out without a thought. His eyes wide as Armin's face began to redden. The embarrassment slowly began consuming Jean's very being.

"U-uh… okay." Armin's beet red now, he turned over so that he'd be facing away from Jean. His blonde hair now at the brunettes disposal.

Mentally slapping himself, Jean only stared at the blonde locks for a while, trying to consider if he should actually proceed with his request. Eventually, his curiosity won over his mortification and he lifted a shaky hand to the blonde tresses.

Armin's hair was soft. It reminded Jean of the silk tablecloth his mother had gotten as a wedding gift. Sighing in content, Jean Softly ran his fingers through Armin's hair, said boy letting out a hum of satisfaction.

Jean felt himself begin to relax as he began to braid a random strand, biting his lip as he tried his best not to hurt the blonde.

"Where'd you learn how to braid?" Armin whispered, not wanting to ruin the peaceful mood that had finally settled in the infirmary.

"I have younger cousins." Jean whispered back. He finished the loose braid and began another as he continued speaking. "Used to make me be apart of their "braiding trains.""

"Braiding trains?"

"Yeah, its where girls sit in a line or a circle and brains each other's hair. I always say in the back of the line."

Armin giggled, "The mental image of that is ridiculous."

Jean rolled his eyes as he started on a French braid. "I'll have you know, I'm an awesome braider, Cindy and Sarah used to always fight over who'd get their hair braided by me." He joked, smile dawning on his face.

"I didn't realize you were such a hot shot, what an honor it is to have my hair braided by the king."

pJean snorted. "It truly is an honor, you brought me out of my six year retirement. Sarah and Cindy would kill to be in your shoes."

Armin giggled, "six years, huh? Imagine all the braid trains you missed out on."

"Psh, it's the braid train that put me into retirement. Those two fight like cats and dogs over me and my skills. My blessing had become a curse."

Armin rolls his eyes and laughs aloud this time, quickly covering his mouth. Jean, also laughing, shushed him. "I'm sorry… just… t-the thought of two girls fighting over which one gets their hair braided by you is really funny for some reason…"

"Hey! My braiding skills are no laughing matter." Jean huffed, trying his best to keep from laughing more. He undid a braid before starting on another. Armin continued laughing, albeit much quieter this time.

"I should tell Eren about this… "

"No. He'd never let me hear the end of it. Probably make some joke about needing to braid my horse mane or some shit." Jean huffed, pulling Armin's hair in a ponytail, before letting it fall down again.

"No… he wouldn't. I'd make sure of it by telling everyone his secrets."

Jean raises an eyebrow. "What kinda secrets?"

"Like I'd tell you. His secrets don't get exposed unless he makes fun of you for knowing how to braid." Armin laughed, grin evident in his voice.

"He calls me horse face though, I feel like that's warranted one secret."

"That doesn't count, you call him Suicidal Bastard."

Jean huffed, once again going back to running his fingers through soft blonde hair. He let out a yawn as the conversation died down to a comfortable silence, the only sound is the slight ruffle of the sheets as Armin shifts into a more comfortable position.

Yawning, Jean moved to simply running a few stray locks through his fingers, the silkiness reminding him of better times. He smiled tiredly as the image of his mothers tablecloth once again came to mind, as well as memories of him and his cousins notorious braid trains. The memories sent his body into a state of calm he hadn't felt since trainee days.

Jean yawned once more, strands still lazily running through his fingers as hazel eyes focused on the slight rise and fall of Armin's chest. It had slowed, indicating the blonde had fallen asleep. Jean found himself counting each breath Armin takes, almost like counting sheep. One, two, three…

As Jean began to fall asleep, he can't help but smile at the boy next to him. What would of happened if Armin had died out there? Would he still be panicking? Would he have gone stir crazy? As he continued to watch the boys chest rise and fall, he shook the questions from his mind. None of that mattered now. Armin was here, keeping him sane.

Please keep breathing.

And he did.