I'm still not entirely sure what happened next. I felt like I was underwater- like everything around me, all the screams and cheers and confusion, had melted together, and it surged and rushed past me, becoming nothing but white noise. Voices passed me with some clarity as I picked them out, screaming- Jean was screaming, Armin was screaming! Eren was screaming- that's me, I'm Eren- the world rushed past my glassy eyes. Time began to slow.
The Beast Slayers were flying after the monster, the monster that got Marco, the monster that was Marco. Their blades glinted harshly in the light, so bright that they were blinding. Marco was roaring, growing closer, and in less than three strides he was right before us, boring into us with sharp, animalistic eyes, raising a massive fist. The world resumed its normal speed, motion, and clarity, and Armin grabbed my hand and jerked me to his side. "Eren, come on!" His eyes were wide and they trembled with fear. I suddenly regained feeling in my feet, cold and clammy within my shoes, and we began running up the stairs two at a time, knocking over cheap rusted chairs and discarded beer bottles as we went. Everyone was running, trying to cram themselves through the minute opening and out of the tent. There were no security guards to be seen. Couples were separated and screamed for each other, someone was on the ground, trampled by the crowd and searching for something- Mikasa! Where was Mikasa? I searched for her and found nothing.
For all the smart and tactful people in the world (Armin, for example), there's an equal amount of dumbass friends. Something in the back of my dumbass mind, by nature, something totally fucking stupid, told me to look back, and when I did, I stopped, shut down mid-step.
The Beast Slayers had struck. Blood rained down upon Jean, who still stood, motionless, mouth frozen in a silent scream of Marco's name. The beast did not falter, bringing its fist down hard, and before I knew it I was screaming again, practically falling down the rickety stairs after Jean. All at once, his dickish comments and haughty attitude meant nothing, and all he was was Jean, a target, a human being, even- God help me- a friend about to die.
"Eren!" Armin's voice tea-kettled behind me, but it was too late- the monstrous fist smashed down on top of Jean and the whole platform burst to planks and splinters below us.
I fell. I fell for a long time, and I didn't notice that I hadn't let go of Armin's hand until black ate away my vision and ensnared my senses. I heard a distant roar, and I dropped off.
"Fuck, didn't you hear me, shitty brat? I said wake up."
The sharp toe of a pointed shoe hit my stomach like a ton of bricks and I tumbled onto my back. I felt a heated glow form on the afflicted area as blood pooled beneath my skin. This voice was familiar. My eyes shuddered open and twitched against the bright lights above me, but I couldn't see; not clearly. My body was dead weight. My stomach began to throb. My ribs felt tight against my lungs, and I wheezed every breath with difficulty. The hot, salty copper taste of blood assaulted my swelled mouth, and I worried for my aching limbs, which I imagined as cracked and twisted.
"Tch… take him to the med trailer, Hanji." I struggled to bring my vision into focus, but all I saw was a clicking pair of black stilettos before passing out again.
I woke again to the ring of silence. My eyes adjusted rather quickly in the dim, but they ached as if they'd been gouged out, white-hot in my skull. My body still felt heavy and dead, but my limbs moved, I discovered, though with a grainy tickling sensation that pulsed like electricity up and down my entire body. There was something like a hospital gown covering me, and my clothes were nowhere to be seen. It was getting cold. I was wrapped in bloody bandages, but I peeled them back to find my skin flawless, entirely devoid of all scabs, cuts or even bruises. I wondered, vaguely, if I was dead.
"Eren!" I heard Jean's voice, and instantly I struggled to sit up, but my body went limp and I fell, noodle-like, back against the mound of pillows beneath me. "Jean!" I croaked. My voice sounded rough and choked, like my throat was full of sand. "Are you alright!?" I tried to turn my head to look at him, but there were curtains drawn up on the sides of the cot I was currently laying in, and all I could see through the dark room was a faint silhouette, provided by pale blue light spilling in from places unknown.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I heard through the curtain. There was something different in his voice, something that wasn't there before. I couldn't really place it, but it made the edges of his voice quiver in anxiety. "Where the hell are we, Jaeger?" I didn't quite know myself.
The room around me stank of sanitation, of bleach and latex and Listerine. I remembered a voice as I looked around me, studying the whitewashed walls and the withered outline of a counter littered with medical instruments. A rusty sink dripped lugubriously.
"The med trailer," I remembered. "Before I passed out and woke up here, someone said something about a med trailer…"
Jean was quiet for a moment and then asked, more quietly, 'Who's that beside you?"
I hadn't even noticed until he asked that there was another dusty shadow, visible through the cloth barrier on my left.
"No clue," I said honestly, and the figure did not stir.
Jean was quiet again, for a long time. We were both imprisoned within our thoughts. Where was Armin? Better yet, where was Mikasa? Why was I stuck in a room with Jean, of all people? Still, his presence comforted me somewhat, and it forced down the bile that came with my fear. I wondered what Jean was thinking about and decided the answer was obvious. My heart ached for him as I considered how it must feel to finally see his best friend, maybe even his boyfriend, after so long. I imagined them at the circus together last year, laughing and sweating nervously in the big, spacious tent, maybe even sharing a few tender kisses to reassure each other that yes, they were alright. I thought of the accident that no one spoke of, the one that left Marco presumed dead. I thought of Marco's laugh and the red that rimmed Jean's eyes long after last year's circus, and, ultimately, I thought of what that meant for us, for our friends and family at home. I wondered if Mikasa had made it home and was waiting by the phone for a call. I wondered if Armin's grandpa was waking up and wondering where Armin was and where his camera had gone. I wondered into my sleep.
I woke to the sound of Jean screaming.
"Marco! MARCO!" He was tumbling out of bed but tripped over his sheets, falling to the floor with a loud thud. I sat straight up in bed. Jean was blindly grabbing for all he could, and he gripped the sliding curtain and ripped it down in his haste. The metal rings screeched on the rod as they slid and the sound hurt my ears and made me clench my teeth. "Jean!" I yelled, reaching for him. I crawled to the edge of the cot on my hands and knees. "Jean!"
He was gone. His eyes didn't see me, couldn't comprehend my presence. They streamed cold, salty tears, and his whole body trembled and shook. "Marco," he whimpered quietly, lowering his head and squeezing his eyes shut tight. His shoulders quivered and I heard him choke out a sob. I frowned, reaching down further. "Jean…"
"MARCO!" he was at it again, screaming. The door was open then, and in flew a familiar face, one of the Beast Slayers- the woman with the tinted glasses. She wore a lab coat now, and from it drew a pre-prepared syringe full of clear liquid.
"No, no, it's alright!" she said to him quite cheerfully, flicking the syringe to rid it of excess liquid. "You won't feel a thing!"
She didn't have to worry. All he felt now was pain.
After she stuck him, Jean crumpled almost immediately, and the Slayer scooped him up in an impressive show of strength. She helped him into bed and replaced his covers, much like a mother would. I caught myself staring, and she did too.
"Hello," she said happily. "Would you like one too?"
I felt my cheeks redden and quickly shook my head. She laughed brightly, sticking her latex-clad hand in my face.
"I was only joking," she assured me, and starry eyes watched me from behind her glasses. "Welcome to the family! My name is Dr. Hanji, so you can call me that, or just Hanji or really whatever you'd like."
She had a dazzling grin, such a difference from the serene figure I'd watched twirling high above the circus.
"Um," I responded dumbly, taking her hand slowly and giving it a shake. Her grip was firm and warm, and I tried pulling my hand back. Her fingers tightened and she flipped over my arm, humming as she hoisted the stethoscope around her neck to her ears, pressing cold metal to my inner arm. "…I'm Eren," I added. "Not to ah, pry, I guess, but where exactly are we…?"
"About eight hundred miles south of Trost," said the doctor cheerily. I felt my eyes blow up wide in my skull.
"Eight hundred miles?" I said in disbelief.
"Yes, sir," Hanji answered. She let the stethoscope fall around her neck again. She seemed oblivious to my shock and smiled at me sunnily, making a few marks on a clipboard at the foot of the cot, probably recording my vitals. Before I could open my mouth to speak, to ask where we were going and why, Hanji continued on her way, pointing to my clothes, newly cleaned and folded beside my cot. "The ringleader wants to see you after dinner, so you should hurry and get a bite to eat before it's all gone!"
I was grateful to have my clothes back and all, but my face was twisted in confusion, and I bit my lip, calling out to her. "Dr. Hanji, I-"
"Don't worry about your friend! He'll be fine. His clothes are on the other side of his cot, but he should sleep through the night!"
"But Dr. Hanji…"
"See you on the flipside, Eren!" She waved at me as she headed out, closing the door behind her, and I was left in the room alone, aside from Jean.
The bed on my left was empty.