This one takes place the night after the mass funeral… Which is still before graduation, but after the battle of Trost.

He was alone in the dorm. It was dark. He was only in his nightshirt. He felt exposed and vulnerable. Everyone he'd shared this room with was gone… Four of them were dead and Eren was locked up somewhere.

Thomas Wagner.

Mina Carolina.

Mylius Zeramuski.

Nac Tius.

They were all dead, and he'd watched them be eaten. He'd been unable to move, unable to even blink.

And then Eren had pulled him out of the Titan's mouth and was devoured because of it. Of course, he was alive now, but he hadn't known that then.

And stupid Jean…

He tightened his arms around his legs and pressed his face into his knees. He couldn't cry anymore.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw them die again. Then it changed and flashed to the piles of bodies everywhere he looked. The "Mopping Up" operation was its nickname. He hated it.

The door behind him opened and closed, but he pretended like he hadn't heard it. Everyone was seeking a quiet place to mourn. More than likely, whoever it was would notice him and slip right back out again without a word.

He heard the footsteps, but his thoughts were too jumbled up to care much about it. He couldn't help but wish that it was Mina and Nac, joking around like usual. Or Thomas. Or Mylius.

Or Eren.

He cursed himself again and again for not being able to do anything to save them.

A shout started at the back of his throat when he felt the bed shift, but then arms were wrapped around him from behind and he choked on his breath. He knew those arms, this smell.

"Jean." Armin sighed heavily. He felt Jean moving behind him, curling around him like he did so long ago.

Jean didn't say anything for a long time. Armin finally relaxed into his arms and held onto him. There were no words. They'd both just gone through entirely too much for words to correctly express.

"Why?" It was all Armin could ask. He couldn't help but wonder why Jean was here. Why now? Why him? Why not Marco?

Jean understood the question. "Marco's dead."

"Oh." Armin couldn't say anything else. So many people had died…

Jean was only sitting with him because he didn't have Marco anymore.

He felt his gut wrench and his heart felt as if it had been ripped out of his chest. He wanted to pull away from Jean and yell at him. He wanted to tell Jean to go away and never talk to him again. But he couldn't.

He needed Jean to hold him right now. If Jean wasn't there, he felt certain he'd break into pieces. How could he be so selfish?

How was it fair for him to hate a dead person?

-0-0-0-

Saying the words had hurt far more than he expected them to. He could only bury his face into Armin's shoulder. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't get the tears to come.

He was almost positive that Armin didn't want him there, but then Armin relaxed against him and he didn't feel quite so guilty. It wasn't fair for him to run to Armin now, not after just losing Marco.

But no matter what there was between him and Marco, Armin had always been the one he thought about the most. He still felt guilty when he thought about kissing him. It wasn't fair to Armin... He'd ruined everything between them when he'd done that.

Marco had been his distraction, his way to try and forget. It never really worked, though. He always found himself thinking about Armin... What would Armin have felt like instead of Marco? What would Armin have said or done instead?

He still wanted to know. He wanted to forget Marco now. He was dead and gone. Nothing could bring him back. He couldn't run to Marco when he needed a distraction anymore. He had to deal with things now. He couldn't just shove everything away and pretend like it hadn't happened.

His grip tightened around Armin. He knew what Armin had seen, what he'd been through. Even though he'd been so torn up about it at first, when it came time for action, Armin had shoved it all to the side. Armin had found Mikasa again. Armin had come up with the plan to kill the Titans in the supply room at headquarters. If not for Armin, they'd have all died.

Even after they were out of Trost and safe and Eren had gone to put that boulder in front of the hole, Armin had rushed out there to help when he saw the yellow flare. Whatever Armin had done to Eren to get him to focus, it had worked.

Armin was too damn smart. Jean could never have come up with anything like Armin had. Jean had made the call to use deaths to his own selfish advantage and escape the Titans that were surrounding them while they fought to get to HQ.

Marco had called Jean a leader, but that wasn't true. He didn't know how to do do anything without Armin's help. He needed Armin now more than ever, but he didn't know how to tell him that.

So they sat in silence.

Jean kept trying to find the words to apologize to Armin, but he never could figure out exactly what to say. A simple apology would never be enough. He felt like he needed to explain everything to him. He felt so guilty for kissing him... He'd tried to bury that guilt by turning to Marco, but that had probably just hurt Armin even more.

How could he make Armin understand? What could he do to show Armin that he needed him? He thought about telling him about his decision to join the Survey Corps, but thought better of it. Now wasn't the time for crap like that.

The future didn't exist right now. It was only the present that really mattered. He was holding Armin, and he felt guilty for it because he felt better. He didn't hurt so much now that his arms were wrapped around him. That wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to Armin and it wasn't fair to Marco.

But Marco was dead.

-0-0-0-

Armin sat up. He tugged Jean's arms away to face him. He didn't know what to say or how to help him. He hated that he wanted to.

Jean had felt guilty after they kissed. And Armin had felt terrible because of Jean's guilt. But now... Now there was no guilt. Nothing else really mattered right now. Tomorrow he would go back to his duties until it was time for the ceremony. After that, he'd never see Jean again. Whatever happened right now was all that was important.

Jean was grieving for Marco, though, and Armin couldn't let himself forget that. He brought his hands up and placed them on Jean's shoulders.

"Armin..."

He shook his head. "Don't, Jean. Don't say anything. Just... listen for a minute." Jean nodded once while Armin took a deep breath to steady himself. "I... I know... Knew about you and Marco. I'm sorry that he's dead. I wish... there was something I could do or say... but there isn't. You have to keep moving forward, though."

It was all he could manage. Jean just nodded at him, his expression torn between guilt and sadness. He brought Jean close in a final hug.

"I..." Jean muttered into Armin's chest. Armin just shook his head and pulled away from him again.

"You need to go, Jean."

-0-0-0-

So Armin knew after all. When he thought about it, it really wasn't that surprising that Armin had figured it out. After all, Armin was smart and he and Marco hadn't exactly done a great job of keeping themselves a secret.

Armin didn't give him the chance to explain anything. He frowned when Armin told him to leave, but nodded all the same. Armin couldn't distract him like Marco could. That much was obvious. But he didn't hate him for it. He just felt guilty for trying to go to Armin in the first place. He hadn't considered how it would hurt him.

He left the room and made his way to his own dorm. He was glad it was empty for now. He wasn't sure what he looked like, but he felt like a wreck.

Marco was gone, but Armin had never really been his to lose in the first place. He wasn't sure which hurt worse. Maybe one day he could tell Armin everything, but today was not that day. He doubted he would get the chance anytime soon. For now, he focused on Marco.

Marco deserved that much, at least.