Author's notes: When I'm not crying, I'm having a ton of fun playing the cameo game. No wait, I'm still crying.

Folks, welcome to the sidestory portion of things. Here you can get some proper background on characters or events that are too long to be listed among simple disclosed information, and if it were part of the main story, it would slow things down. Enter sidestories!

This chapter's artwork done by me. Human!La'gaan was a glorious pain to figure out, and the above isn't even the completed version. It has long been my headcanon that kid!Jaime looks like Jaime does in the comics. Minus the facial scruff.

Warnings: past tense death. aND LA'GAAN IS HENCEFORTH ILLEGAL.


SIDESTORY 1. SYMBIOSI (LA'GAAN)


"AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

La'gaan tried not to growl his impatience. This was the fourteenth hapless kid the training instructor had gotten to so far, and it was all the same. Really, if this military thought this was how to put La'gaan through hell, they had another think coming. The fourteen-year-old huffed quietly, bouncing slightly on his toes as he held his salute.

The training instructor, Adams, seemed to pop up from nowhere. The soldier's head jutted into La'gaan's space, and it took the boy considerable effort to hold his ground. Adams' broad, chiseled jaw looked like it could be used to carve marble, but La'gaan's interest was more taken by the fiery eyes that glared down at him.

"AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" the training instructor bellowed.

"La'gaan, sir, from the Atlantis District."

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HERE, LAGOON?!"

La'gaan wiped spittle from his eye, frowning. Again with the lagoon thing. "It's La'gaan, sir. I'm here to join the Military Police and live within the interior, sir."

Instructor Adams was flabbergasted. This was the first time a recruit's response had left him speechless. La'gaan hadn't expected him to understand—no one ever did, or at least they never wanted to acknowledge that they did. Liars, all of them. La'gaan didn't need their approval.

Next thing the teenager knew, Instructor Adams' head had cracked right into his forehead, and he was knocked down to the dirt. La'gaan was used to that, too. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself that he couldn't fight back, and slowly pulled himself up to his feet. Remember, chum, this place is your way out.

There weren't many people who caught his attention, except for Garfield Logan, who was obviously underage, and a trio of older teens who Instructor Adams skipped over. One was a solemn-faced Atlantean, with tattoos running down his arms and lining either side of his neck. The second was broody guy, built for brutality. Last was a ginger-haired girl whose hazel eyes were following Instructor Adams with a mixture of apprehension and anxiety. She and the broody guy must have been a couple, because whenever the instructor wasn't looking, they would reach out their hands and interlace fingers.

La'gaan didn't realize he was staring until the background noise of Instructor Adams' yelling suddenly dropped off. La'gaan turned with the other recruits to see what was happening, rubbing at where the instructor's head had rammed into his face.

One of the recruits, a scrawny boy with mousy brown hair and light green eyes, was eating a potato. The very first day of training, with the training instructor himself staring him down, and he was eating a potato.

"And who the hell are you?" Instructor Adams seemed genuinely puzzled this time.

The boy swallowed his bite of potato. "Bart Allen, sir. That is, BartholomewAllenII."

"What are you doing, Bartholomew Allen II?"

"Eating a potato, sir."

"Why?"

Bartholomew Allen II chuckled, as though the soldier had asked him something silly. "Scavenger rights, of course," he said simply. "And it tastes better when it's hot."

La'gaan had a feeling that Instructor Adams punching people was going to become a very, very common occurrence. Especially if Bartholomew Allen II stuck around.


La'gaan was a little embarrassed about not having noticed his bunkmate at all prior to meeting him at the bunk they were going to share. "I got here first, ese, so the top's all mine," the kid declared. La'gaan would have disliked him immediately if it weren't for the friendliness of his smile. Still, he had known friendliness to be deceiving.

"You can have it, chum." He eyed the kid for another moment before offering his hand. "La'gaan."

"Jaime Reyes." The kid's hold was firm and steady. La'gaan would like to meet the one who'd taught him to shake like that.

They left for the mess hall, and ended up talking all night. Well, Jaime did most of the talking. It barely took any prompting to get him to open up, yapping away happily about his parents and his little sister and best friend Tye, who didn't want to talk to him anymore because he thought that soldiers could only be strong on their own. He talked about customers who came into his father's stables, about his dozens and dozens of relatives, about long horseback rides across the hot tundra.

"I'm gonna miss it," Jaime confessed, his tones hushed. La'gaan could hear him roll over on the top bunk. "What about you, La'gaan? What's it like in Atlantis?"

"It's different," La'gaan said slowly. His fingers curled into fists on top of the blankets. "Really different."

"Like how?" Jaime had popped his head over the side of his bed, his long hair hanging upside-down as he looked at La'gaan curiously. "Do you have friends there? Ooh, do you have a little sister, too?"

"No!" La'gaan snapped. "I already told you, it's different!"

Jaime blinked at him. Then he pulled his head back up, rolling over onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. "That's okay," he said quietly.


Tomorrow came the Three Dimensional Maneuver Gear Aptitude Test. La'gaan thought remembering the name of the test was a test in itself. He muttered as such, and was startled when Jaime laughed.

La'gaan and Jaime both passed the test. In a strange way, La'gaan was happy. It would have been too bad if Jaime had been sent off to work in some landfill. They spent hours talking again, and La'gaan learned that Jaime had the same ambitions to join the Military Police as he, but different reasons.

"You're not even doing it for you?" the Atlantean questioned, giving the other boy a doubtful look. "Come on."

"It's true!" Jaime insisted. "Sure, we're alright right now, but I know that my family's barely getting by. The Military Police make a lot of money. I can use that to get my hermanita through school, maybe even a university in Wall Lois. My dad would finally have enough money to breed the kind of horses he wants to, ones that'll be good enough for even the Survey Corps. Ever since he got injured on an expedition, he's wanted to give back to them somehow."

"What about your mom?"

Jaime's expression fell, turning guilty. "She'd stop skipping meals so us kids could eat."

La'gaan stared at Jaime. This kid was unbelievable. People this kindhearted just didn't exist. Yet, there was no doubt that Jaime Reyes was genuine. La'gaan shook his head. "You're a strange little fish, Blue."

"Blue?"

La'gaan stiffened. He hadn't meant to say the nickname he had mentally assigned to Jaime. "Uh… I noticed the blue pendant on that necklace you're always wearing, so I thought, Blue…"

Jaime was smiling. "I like it!" he told La'gaan, reaching up to fiddle with the pendant as he did so. "The pendant's a scarab. I got it from my friend Dr. Kord—I think I told you about him."

"Yeah. A scientist with the Military Police, right?"

Jaime nodded. "Mm-hmm. He gave the scarab to me almost a year ago. He died a little while later. I think there was a fire, but nobody wanted to tell me."

"Adults are like that." La'gaan turned his head as the bell signaling mealtime rang. "Dinner," he said to Jaime. "We'd better go before that Kent guy eats it all. You've seen how big he is."

Jaime managed a smile. "Personally, I'm more worried about Bartholomew Allen II."

They both snickered, and La'gaan broke into a run with Jaime only half a step behind. After dinner, they crawled into bed along with all the other boys in their barracks. In another few days they would officially be trainees.


La'gaan woke up in the middle of the night. For a moment he blinked up at the bunk above him with confusion and more than a little aggravation, wondering what it was that had woken him. Was… was that two voices coming from up on Jaime's bunk? La'gaan rolled over and stood on the edge of his bed, peeking up onto Jaime's bunk, but Jaime was the only one there.

"Ese?" He sounded bewildered, and La'gaan could see the whites of his eyes as he stared in the Atlantean's direction.

"Oh… sorry, Blue." La'gaan shrank a little, feeling embarrassed. "I just… I thought I could hear someone else up here for a moment."

Jaime shifted uncomfortably. "You sort of did." Sitting up, he gestured for La'gaan to come join him. Looking around to make sure no one else was awake, La'gaan climbed up the ladder and sat down across from Jaime, folding his legs.

"It's hard to explain," Jaime admitted, scratching at his tousled hair. "The, um, the doctors say that I have a double personality. That means there's me, but there's also another me. It's like there's two people in the same body."

La'gaan's could feel himself leaning back, his eyes widening. "That's pretty freaky, Blue."

"It was really scary at first," Jaime told him. "It's been almost a year now, though, and I've gotten used to it. The other me is really nasty most of the time. I have to keep telling him he can't hurt people. But at least there's one thing we agree on, and that's that we both want to be soldiers."

"It almost sounds like crazy mood swings," La'gaan remarked. "Like, really crazy mood swings. Is that who you were talking to?"

"Yeah." Jaime frowned. "He talks really weird."

"What if I call him Beetle?" La'gaan suggested suddenly. "Since you're Blue, and scarabs are kind of like beetles, right?"

"Scarabs are beetles." Jaime and La'gaan both jumped back as Garfield's head came popping up from over the side of the bed. "I think the big difference is that the names scarab and beetle come from different languages or something."

"How long have you been listening in?!" Jaime hissed.

"I dunno," Garfield replied perkily. "I wasn't really paying attention. Why, was I not supposed to hear?"

"It's a secret, chum," La'gaan whispered fiercely. "Jaime's secret. You can't tell anyone!"

"Noted," Garfield whispered back, nodding solemnly. He smiled at Jaime. "The Blue/Beetle secret is safe with me!"

He disappeared again, making his way back to his bunk. La'gaan and Jaime looked at each other for a moment. Then Jaime smiled.

"Thanks, ese."

La'gaan gave him a confused look. "What did I do?"

Jaime just shook his head, saying thanks again, and indicated that La'gaan should go back to bed. They didn't want Instructor Adams to know they were breaking curfew, after all.


He should have seen the physical exam coming. He knew that he should have. Yet still, it had caught him by surprise. With all the other male recruits, La'gaan stripped down to his undergarments, while the female recruits did the same in another building. La'gaan took his spot next to Jaime and tried not to fidget.

"Trainee La'gaan?"

La'gaan looked up at the medical officer who had addressed him. "Yes, sir?"

"What is this strapped around your leg?"

La'gaan's throat suddenly became very dry. "It's a sheath for multiple blades, sir," he explained. "My recruiting officer approved continued possession so long as it is kept empty on the training grounds, sir, I can show you the paperwor—"

"I have already seen the paperwork, Trainee La'gaan. I need you to take it off."

La'gaan's eyes widened. Jaime looked over, noticing his friend's distress. "But, sir—"

"Is there a problem, Trainee La'gaan?"

"N-no, sir. There isn't." Swallowing, La'gaan knelt and unfastened his sheath, passing it up to the medical officer.

La'gaan could identify the Atlanteans among the group from the gasps; or at least, those who knew how to read Atlantean. They either smirked or looked away. La'gaan struggled to maintain his composure, his chin tilted defiantly up as he stood at attention.

Instructor Adams arrived then, casting a disinterested look down at the mark on La'gaan's leg. "What's with the tattoo, Trainee La'gaan? Thought Atlanteans didn't go for the lettering thing."

La'gaan could feel heat crawling up his neck. Good thing his skin was so dark. "It's Atlantean, sir," he told the training instructor.

"What's it say?"

La'gaan's fingers curled into fists. He forced them to relax, swallowing again. "Impure, sir. It says impure."

He could hear Jaime's soft gasp to his right, but he didn't dare look over while he was speaking with Instructor Adams. The soldier had seemed about ready to move on, but at the word impure he had fully stopped.

"How come?" the training instructor queried.

Why was he asking all of these questions now? La'gaan didn't want to think about the answers, he didn't want to remember them. But Instructor Adams' word was law around here, and La'gaan didn't have the luxury of choice.

"There's a sect in Atlantis, sir," La'gaan croaked. He coughed a little, trying to clear his throat. "They… they don't approve of those of us with mixed blood."

"Hm. Well, I don't care if you're a blowfish, Trainee La'gaan. Do what you must, and make humanity proud that it made you. Though how you're supposed to do that while hiding behind Wall Lois is beyond me."

He walked away. La'gaan blinked in shock for a few seconds. Was that… encouragement? From Instructor Adams? He was pulled from his thoughts by Jaime's hand on his shoulder, and nodded to assure his classmate that he was fine. The rest of the physical exam went smoothly, and afterwards La'gaan was relieved to see his sheath on top of his stack of clothes. It was the first thing he put back on, and after belting his pants up he reached for his shirt.

"I see you still hide it, La'gaan."

The shirt fell from La'gaan's fingers as he froze, his ears roaring. He knew that voice. It was Ronal, the one who had seared this mark into his leg two years ago. It had been days before La'gaan could walk again. He spun around, fist raised. Ronal had the audacity to smirk.

Jaime pushed La'gaan's fist down, stepping between him and Ronal. "Beat it, ese," he spat at the fair-haired Atlantean. He pointed his thumb to his chest, teeth bared angrily. "Or you'll have to deal with both of us."

La'gaan hadn't known that Jaime could sound so hostile without, you know… Beetle. Maybe that was what he had meant by both of us. In either case, La'gaan hoped this would end in several well-placed punches across Ronal's face.

Ronal wasn't intimidated. "You'll get kicked out," he sneered.

"They don't care about bloodlines in here, Ronal," La'gaan replied. His lips were pulled back in a furious snarl, and the only thing between him and a very bloody fight was a human wall named Jaime Reyes. "We wouldn't be the ones getting the boot, and even if we did… we'd still get to reduce you to a bloody pulp first, chum."

Ronal seemed to realize that La'gaan was serious, and that he was outnumbered. He tossed one last sneer over his shoulder as he retreated, and La'gaan gave a rude gesture in response. Several Atlanteans among the trainees sniggered. La'gaan and Jaime both sighed, slowly relaxing. La'gaan would be happy if he never saw Ronal again.

He bent over to pick his shirt back up, and gave Jaime a grateful nod. "Thanks for backing me up, Blue."

"No problem, hermano." Jaime was still glaring off at where Ronal had gone. La'gaan wondered at the change in address, but he decided to find out some other time. He and Jaime finished getting dressed and headed for hand-to-hand combat training. Man, La'gaan missed lunch.


The process of training soldiers for the military branches took three years. Apparently there were only three exceptions in the entire history of the walls, and they had all occurred fairly recently. That was all they were told, and then there was no more time to ask questions. Training was brutal.

To call the three years of training three years of hell was no stretch. Most trainees didn't make it through—some died, and many simply left, either going back home or getting sent off to work in the landfills. But those who stayed became strong, and La'gaan refused to be anything else. Jaime made it too, both sides of him.

There was a lot they knew about each other, now. It came of being partners. Favorite colors, insecurities and crushes, where they had been on That Day. La'gaan still found it strange that he had been living a day the same as any other when the Titans had broken through Wall Cassandra.

They knew all of each other's secrets, their ambitions inside and out. He knew that hermano meant brother and Jaime knew that chum could mean friend, brother, enemy, worm, and it all depended on where the heart was. La'gaan knew that Jaime missed his bond with Tye, but was glad that he had been able to find new friends among the other runaways. Jaime knew why La'gaan was bitter and reluctant to trust. They both knew Beetle was hostile and cruel, but he still cared.

La'gaan had wondered at times if someone so kind-hearted, yet also so vicious, could really get the scores needed to make the top ten and get into the Military Police. It turned out he had nothing to worry about. Jaime Reyes was plenty strong.

There were, however, two particular idiots that had also made it this far, and La'gaan would never understand how. These idiots were Garfield Logan, the tiny underage kid, and Bart Allen, the potato enthusiast. More of an all-around food enthusiast, really. He had scavenging skills unlike anyone La'gaan had ever seen, and somehow had never been caught while stealing food from the officers' supplies.

For some reason, they kept following him and Jaime around. It was especially annoying during training exercises, because La'gaan would never know they were there until one swept in and stole his "kill."

La'gaan did have to admit they were good, though. Garfield was such a natural on the 3D Maneuver Gear that one had to wonder if he had been born with wings, and Bart was fast. He could change directions and pulls stunts much more quickly than anyone else, and he seemed to do it without damage to himself. It took some work before he could do it without damaging his Gear, however.

They drove La'gaan nuts. But Jaime seemed to like them for some reason, or at least the normal side of him did. The more aggressive personality was greatly inclined towards stabbing them, or at least those had been his thoughts toward the beginning of things. Bart and Garfield had an annoying tendency of growing on people, and before you knew what had happened, you had become fond of them.

Today they had completed their last day of training. Tonight they would graduate, and tomorrow night they would choose which branch of the military they would be joining. La'gaan was glad he'd still have Jaime with him, wherever in Wall Lois they would end up.

A lot had happened over the past three years. La'gaan had made friends, enemies, and even a rival. He had met the most perfect girl in existence, but whenever he tried to talk to her he'd stumble over his words and make an absolute fool out of himself. He hoped Conner understood what he had.

More importantly than all of that, he had met his best friend. La'gaan had a feeling that if things had played out any other way, it wouldn't be like this. So he was grateful.

The Atlantean collapsed into bed for a couple hours' rest before the graduation ceremony. Jaime was already snoring above him. Tonight, all of this work would come that much closer to fruition. Tomorrow night, they would be preparing for their departure to the interior. La'gaan thought it was a little ironic that they had been honing their Titan-killing skills just to never use them, but he didn't waste much time thinking on that.

Jaime shook him awake two hours later, just as they had agreed, and somehow he managed to beat La'gaan to the showers as he always did. Soon after, they were dressed in full uniform and moving with the rest of the trainees to gather in formation upon the wide field. There were two hundred and eighteen of them in all, of the thousand and some who had first enlisted. They watched as their training camp's officers lined up.

"Dedicate your hearts!"

The trainees snapped to attention, both arms swinging up to fix in the salute of all the military branches—right fist over the heart, left forearm across the back.

"Today, you trainee graduates will be given three choices," Instructor Adams shouted. "You can join the Garrison, protecting towns and reinforcing the walls. Or the Survey Corps, who risk their lives beyond the walls in Titan territory. Or the Military Police, who serve the King, lead the people, and protect internal order.

"Of course, only the top ten students of each class can join the Military Police. The names of these ranking graduates of the 104th are as follows."

La'gaan waited. He and Jaime both had their fingers crossed behind their backs.


"We did it!" Garfield cheered, jumping up as he punched the air triumphantly. "We made it into the Military Police, M'gann!"

"That we did," M'gann agreed. She tapped her little brother's nose, frowning as she tsked in a reprimanding manner. "Though you by the skin of your teeth, Gar. Eighth in rank? Too close."

"Eighth in rank out of two hundred and eighteen," Garfield pointed out. "And I still did better than Bart." He snickered as the ninth-ranking student squawked indignantly, throwing a mug at him from across the tavern's hall. La'gaan ducked to keep from getting hit, and Garfield jumped to catch the hurtling dish.

He turned to M'gann, about to say something more, but Conner came in from behind and hooked a sturdy arm around the kid's torso, ruffling his hair before hoisted him up over his shoulder. Garfield's laughter echoed through the local tavern the 104th had taken to gathering in, prompting smiles from his classmates.

La'gaan wished he could share in the festive mood, but it wasn't easy. Not even with the flawless M'gann so nearby. He frowned into his tankard, wondering how it was that slime like Ronal had gotten a higher ranking than him. Only by one, but it still hurt to be falling behind the likes of Ronal again. He was fifth, and La'gaan was sixth.

After that came seventh, who was sitting down next to La'gaan right now. Jaime's sudden haircut was still throwing him off. "Something eating you, hermano?"

La'gaan shrugged. "I just hope we don't get stationed in the same place as that Purist pig."

"Hm." Jaime looked over at where Ronal was standing, surrounded by a group of admiring and envious trainees. It had always baffled him that someone so obviously crooked could attract such popularity. "If we do, we can always request a transfer. Failing that, there are three of us and only one of him."

La'gaan didn't correct Jaime with two instead of three. He knew what his friend meant. Jaime sipped at his drink absently, looking around at all the people he had gotten to know over the past three years. He shook his head.

"I still can't quite believe we made it," the teenager admitted.

"Symbiosi," La'gaan added. Jaime gave him a puzzled look, and La'gaan smiled briefly. "We made it together, chum."

Jaime smiled back, and lifted his tankard to La'gaan's. The clay mugs clinked against each other as the teens toasted tomorrow, and the place in Wall Lois that was waiting just for them.


The next day, La'gaan and Jaime were stationed separately along the wall, doing repair work. By that night, they would officially be a part of the Military Police, and before the sun rose tomorrow, they would be on their way to Wall Lois. La'gaan hummed under his breath as he worked.

Then came the explosion of noise, the rattling of the entire wall and humanity's hope right along with it. La'gaan looked back, and his heart stopped in horror. He had heard a few Gotham survivors describe the image of the Colossal Titan appearing at Wall Cassandra, but La'gaan had never thought he would ever actually see it, here, over his district.

Jaime was over there! La'gaan nearly jumped right off the wall then and there, but he knew if he acted out of line, everything would be thrown into confusion. He followed procedure and went to HQ with the rest of the trainees. "You are all full-fledged soldiers now!" Captain Orm of the Garrison shouted. "Trainees will be separated into teams with the middle guard and supply team!"

La'gaan kept cursing under his breath, trying not to turn mindless in his panic. This was meant to be his last day here, he was meant to go to Wall Lois with his best friend, he was not meant to die here.

"La'gaan!"

He turned, nearly attacking into his addressor on reflex. It was Jaime, and he dodged easily. "You okay, hermano?" he asked.

"We were supposed to be long gone before stuff like this could happen," La'gaan choked out.

"We'll be fine." Jaime was obviously trying to convince himself of that as well. "We just… we just have to make it through today, and then we'll go to the interior tomorrow, right? I don't want to die either, La'gaan. So we're not going to."

La'gaan gathered his composure again, jerking his head in a nod as he knocked his fist against Jaime's. Around the courtyard he could see trainees curled up in balls on the ground, rocking as they cried in despair. Chian was holding Ronal as he puked.

La'gaan resolved himself. He wasn't going to turn into a coward now, no matter what happened. It was like Jaime said. They were going to live today, and go to the interior tomorrow. They would still do everything they had planned.

The best friends were both put in the middle guard, but on separate teams. Jaime was leading his own. La'gaan was just part of another.


Hours had passed. The bells had rung for retreat some time ago, but it was already too late—the soldiers were nearly out of gas and completely out of hope, and the supply team had abandoned them all. La'gaan sat down heavily on a higher ledge of the roof, fighting the urge to put his head in his hands.

He heard frantic, desperate screaming in Atlantean, so garbled that even he couldn't understand it, and he looked up. Kaldur'ahm was holding Garth down on the roof, unshaken by the other Atlantean's wild flailing.

"Let me go! Let me go, Kaldur, she's not breathing! I have to save her, let me go back!" Garth's fists beat against Kaldur's chest as he wailed. "Let me go back!"

"She's dead, Garth!" Kaldur shouted back. His head bowed, teeth gritting as he closed his eyes. "She is dead, my friend."

"No." Purple eyes had grown wide, afraid, full of denial. La'gaan couldn't imagine the pain he had to be in. Even if Garth was a pureblood, he had been a good friend to everyone around him. Especially Tula. "No!" Garth cried again, his voice cracking. "Not Tula, not Tula…"

Kaldur pulled him up and held him in an embrace, trying feebly to comfort his childhood friend. "Tuuulaaaaa!"

La'gaan was numb. La'gaan was aching. All had been so good when he had woken up that morning, so why was he now in hell? Maybe because reality was hell. It was ridiculous, now that he thought about it, that it had taken him so long to realize the truth. He should have known better than anyone else.

He looked across the rooftops and saw Jaime, talking with a panicked-looking Cameron. He seemed calm to La'gaan—sad, but very, very calm. Both friends stopped and caught each other's gaze. Then they looked away.

Forget what they had agreed. This was where they were going to die.

La'gaan angled his head up as Garfield approached him. The poor kid looked as scared as he felt, his freckled hands shaking as he gripped empty air. "La'gaan, what do we do?"