I know that not everything in this story is probably correct legally but whatever just pretend it does. Also sorry because this one sort of sucks.
Lonely. That's what Armin felt, more than anything. He didn't understand why this had to happen to him. Why this kind of thing always had to happen to him. He had been the one driving when it happened, he was learning so that he could get his license. Now he wasn't sure he even wanted one. He never wanted to drive again. Some moron had pulled out when they had a red light and his the side of their car. The passengers side.
Everything would have been okay if it had just hit the drivers side, everything would have been fine, but it wasn't. His Grandpa was old, and old people were fragile. The doctors said that he had died quickly, but that didn't make him feel any better. He was still dead. And try as he might, Armin couldn't speak now. The doctors said it was psychosomatic, all in his head, but that didn't change anything. It just made him feel even worse. He was to pathetic to even talk now. And no one was going to come and visit him. He didn't know where he was supposed to go. He didn't want to back home, it would be too painful. He had lived there with his Grandpa ever since his parents died, but now he was dead too. Eren and Mikasa were on vacation with their parents, because it was summer. They were going to be gone for two weeks. A Disney cruise and a trip to Universal Studios. They were probably at Harry Potter world or something right now. He wondered if they would get him anything. Even if he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't turn down Harry Potter merchandise in a million years. It wouldn't make him feel better, but he would like it.
He wondered how long the hospital would be able to keep him. He didn't have any family left to contact so they could take him home. He didn't really have any other friends. Would they just kick him out? They would need more beds. He stayed in bed all the time now. Not because he was injured, the passenger's side had absorbed most of the blow. All he had was whiplash, a few cuts from broken glass, and a bruise on his head where it had slammed into the window. He just didn't see any reason to get out of bed. It wasn't like there was anything exciting going on in a hospital. Even if there was he wouldn't want any part in it, he didn't want to have to sit there and not say anything while other people had fun. That would just be more depressing than sitting here alone in his room. At least he had a window to look out of.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for a room and I think I'm lost. Can you help me out?" A voice interrupted his brooding, and he looked over curiously. It was a boy who was probably around his age, tall and slim. He had a long thin face and weirdly light brown eyes. Hazel was probably the right word for them. He had weird hair too, but Armin thought it looked kinda cool.
As much as he hated the idea of leaving the room, he also knew that if he stayed in here much longer he would go crazy. Plus, he may as well try to do something useful with his life. Just sitting here and alternating between crying and self loathing. For the first time since he had gotten here, he was glad for the mini dry erase board they had given him. He got it and a blue marker and started to write.
"If you can't then that's fine, I can just leave."
He wanted to tell him to stop being so impatient, but instead he held up a finger to try to indicate that he needed a second, and finished writing as quickly as he could. 'I might be able to, what's the room number?' He held it up to the other boy, who looked at him funny.
"You can't talk?"
He shook his head, since that was really the fastest way to give such a straightforward answer.
"But you can hear me?"
He nodded emphatically, hoping to just move on with this conversation because he didn't want to talk about himself. With a sigh, he wiped the first half clean, so that it just said 'what's the room number'
"Uh, okay it 4C32." The other boy seemed really uncomfortable. He was probably expecting an easier conversation. Yet another thing to look forward to about being mute, no one wanted to talk to someone who had to write out every response. Even once he learned sign language it wouldn't be better, why would anyone learn a language just so they could talk to him? He was never going to speak to anyone but deaf people and their families like ever again.
'You're on the wrong floor.' He wrote out, trying to keep his frown from showing.
The other boy shrugged. "I told you I was lost." He sounded whiny and defensive and Armin wished that he could still laugh properly. Not that he had tried yet, but he was scared it would just be a wheeze, like when he tried to talk.
'Well it's a good thing I'm good at figuring this sort of stuff out.' He tried to somehow look reassuring but he wasn't sure how to do that without his voice. This whole thing was a nightmare.
"So you'll help me?" Armin wasn't sure how to interpret his tone, but he nodded and got up out of his bed.
'My name is Armin, by the way.' It was a good thing he was a reasonably fast writer.
"Hey, Armin. I'm Jean, thanks for helping me out." He hesitated for a second as Armin started to walk away. "Also, do you want to borrow my jacket? I mean your gown thingy is sort of... Not completely covering in the back."
Armin's face was burning, but he accepted the jacket, mouthing a very silent 'thank you' as he did so. It was awkward, not being able to talk out loud. Plus he couldn't write and walk at the same time. He reached into the pockets of the jacket and found the piece of paper that he had seen Jean put back in there. The one with the room number.
4C32. They needed to go up one floor and then to the C wing. Jean was really lost if he had come down here, to the A wing. His own room was 3A64, about as far away as you could really get. It wasn't that he knew the hospital terribly well, but there wasn't much reading material in his room other than the map with the fire escapes, even if he hadn't walked the halls himself, he had an idea where everything was. He led the way to the nearest elevator, more than a little pleased with himself for finding it on the first try. He was happy with the silence, but apparently Jean thought it was too awkward. "So, you don't look like there's anything wrong with you. I mean, you don't have any casts or braces, and you aren't hooked up to an IV. Why are you here."
Armin shrugged and leaned against the wall so he could brace the board against his knee. 'long story'
"So lots of writing then?"
He shook his head and erased his board again, writing down the short version of what happened. 'car crash'
"Ah, and let me guess, it's a long story because of the whole lack of injury." Jean grinned cockily, clearly proud of his deductive skills. If only he knew. "You used to be able to talk, didn't you? You mouthed 'thank you' before. I'll bet it was out of habit because you're used to talking."
'So why are you here? Someone you love dying maybe?' He wasn't in the mood to have someone prying into his life, and he didn't really mind being rude. They wouldn't just become besties either way.
"Okay then, I get it, you don't want to talk. Well, write, I guess. Whatever it doesn't matter. I'm visiting my mom and she's fine. Or she will be, I guess. She had her appendix removed and there was some kind of complication so they're keeping her under observation." He explained, amiably. "So, anyone visit you today? How's the food? Hospital life any fun?"
He might have groaned two days ago, but now he just rolled his eyes. 'I have no family or friends, now can we stop talking about this?' The elevator came to a stop and he walked out the doors, shoving the dry erase board into the other boy's hands forcefully. He would take it back when they got to 4C32.
"Fine, you don't like me. If you really feel so strongly about it you could have let me find the way myself." When Armin turned to glare at him he paled. "Unless you're serious and not trying to get me to shut up. Would that happen to be the case?"
Damn it. Damn it all, why was he so emotional right now. Well, probably because his only family was dead and he might never speak again, but why right now? He could feel his tears stinging below his bottom eyelid and tried to turn away before Jean could see, but it was too late. The stranger, the complete stranger patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, obviously trying to be comforting.
"The crash. Whoever was with you died, didn't they?"
Armin had had enough. He yanked his whiteboard out of the taller boy's hand and whirled around to get back on the elevator. He pressed the number three and then the close button repeatedly. Luckily Jean didn't try to stop of him. He just watched him go with a pitying expression that kind of made him feel worse. He was full on crying now, as he walked back to his room, and he didn't notice that he still had the jacket until he was already there. Great, that meant he'd probably be back for it. He didn't really care to be here when it happened, but he still didn't want to leave, not really. He put the jacket over the back of the chair and wrote a new note on the board. 'Take it and leave.' Then he went into the little bathroom connecting to his room and waited. He wished that his phone hadn't broken, or that he at least had Eren and Mikasa's phone numbers. Not that he wanted to ruin their vacation, but he needed to talk to someone. Well, text them really. They were his best friends. His next choice would probably be Marco, from school, just because he was always so nice. That or Connie. But he didn't know their numbers either and he didn't know either of their parent's names so he couldn't even look for a home phone in the phone book.
An hour or so must have passed before he left the bathroom. The jacket was still there, but he wasn't going to wait any longer. If Jean tried to talk he would just ignore him. Pretend to be asleep or something. He got into bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin, and laid there until he fell asleep.
The next day was agonizingly boring, as he had expected. That was, up until Jean came in. "I brought you flowers. I mean, I figured you're alone and you might want something to cheer you up."
Armin huffed and looked away. He didn't want pity flowers.
"Also I brought a friend, but I told him to wait outside in case you didn't want to talk. If you don't then we can go see my mom, it's no big deal." You could practically feel the anticipation in the air as he waited for a response. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I just want to make it up to you. Plus, my friend is way better than me at the whole comforting thing. His name is Marco, and he actually made me bring him, that's how much he wanted to talk to you."
Armin whipped his head around hard enough to hurt his neck and Jean smiled. He had set the flowers on the little table and was holding his jacket. "I'll get him." And he did. Armin took the few seconds he had to try to flatten out his hair and make himself look slightly less terrible. He didn't really want Marco to see him like this, not if it was the Marco he knew.
And it was. The familiar freckled face poked around the corner, eyes wide and concerned. "Armin? Oh god, are you okay? Jean said something about a crash." He couldn't hold it in any longer, and for the second time in front of this Jean he started crying. "Jean, what do you know?" Marco didn't waste time sitting on the bed beside him and pulling him into the first hug he had gotten since the accident.
"He got in a car crash. I think someone was with him and that they died. I don't know he told me he didn't have any family. I guess you two know each other?"
"Yeah, he goes to my school. Armin, was it your grandpa?" Marco was stroking his head like he was a dog or something, and it really felt nice. He hadn't realized that he was missing human contact until now. He nodded into his chest, silent as he always would have to be from now on. "Are you hurt?" He shook his head no. "Then why are you still here?"
That required a more complicated answer. He looked at Jean and pointed toward the chair, trying to indicate that he needed the board. Luckily the other boy wasn't a complete idiot. He handed it over along with a green marker that had been on the table. 'I don't have anywhere to go.'
Marco's confused expression made one thing clear. Jean hadn't said anything about him being mute. "Armin, why aren't you talking?"
"He can't. I mean I knew that he probably used to talk but I assumed that it was a while ago." Jean seemed absurdly guilty, like it was somehow his fault, and it made Armin feel even worse.
Marco leaned down to make eye contact with him. "You're mute now?"
He nodded and for lack of other things to do, leaned his head up against Marco's chest. He didn't want to look at either of them. They both looked sad. They had no right to be sad. Not for him.
"Where are Eren and Mikasa?"
He turned his head to the side, still leaning on the other boy's chest. 'On vacation.' His writing was a little sloppy because he was writing one handedly, but it was decipherable at least. He wasn't sure he had the willpower to write it again.
"Do you want to stay with me until they get back and we can all figure something out?"
He knew it would probably just cause them problems, but he wanted out of this hospital. He needed to go somewhere else. Somewhere that there were people who would care about him and be nice without bombarding him. Marco's house was probably the perfect place for that. Plus, Mrs. Bodt was about the nicest person he had ever met. She would never turn away a mute orphan with nowhere to go but the hospital. He gave another shaky nod.
Two years had passed since it happened. He had graduated and now he was going to go to college. It was hard, leaving home. Marco and his family had taken him in permanently after about a month of deliberation. It had seemed the best option. And even though he had initially hated that boy called Jean, they had become friends, and then best friends, and eventually something more. He had never seemed to mind the fact that he couldn't, or wouldn't, talk.
But now all that was coming to an end. Jean wasn't going to college. Chances were they might never see him again. After all, it wasn't as if Armin had anyone else to visit there. He would really just be an inconvenience at this point, making his boyfriend feel like he couldn't get into a relationship with anyone else. That's why he had sent him the text. The one that said they should break up. He felt like an ass doing it over text, but it wasn't like he could call, and he was already at the airport. He had told him that his flight was tomorrow. He just didn't want to see him, it would make things so much harder. That's when his phone rang. It was Jean.
He answered it, confused. Why the hell would he call him? He couldn't talk. "blow into the mouthpiece." Apparently he had answered it while his boyfriend was in mid-sentence. He waited, hoping for some kind of explanation. There was a muffled "God I sound like an idiot." and he spoke again. "Armin, obviously you can't answer me, so when you answer just blow into the mouthpiece."
Of course, he probably just wanted to yell at him. He got angry so easily. Oh well, he did as his boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend now really, said.
"Oh, hey Armin. Okay, I know you can't talk right now, but hear me out. Everything you said in that text was stupid. I love you, you aren't a burden. Hell, I would move out there with you if I had the money, but I don't. I'm not going to feel like I can't see other people out of an obligation to you, I'm going to feel that way because I'm in love with you. If you really want to break up then that's fine, I'm okay with that. You're moving to a new place, you're starting a new life, I totally understand if that's what's going on here, but please don't break up with me because you feel like you're a burden. You're as far from a burden as it gets." There was a pause and a shaky laugh from the other side. "Okay, I know that was lame, but it was all I had. I'm going to hang up now so you can text me if you want. Bye." There was a click on the other end, and Armin looked at the phone for what felt like forever, blinking back tears. When he could see the screen he typed a short message and hit send.
Jean was nervously pacing in his living room. He was so stupid, calling had been stupid. Now he sounded desperate. Armin definitely wasn't texting him back. As the seconds ticked by, his hope dwindled away to nothing. Ding! He nearly dropped his phone in his rush to view the message. It was short, just three simple words. But it was all he needed to see.
'I love you.'