These characters are under copyright by Hajime Isayama and/or Kodansha Comics or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.
Chapter 14 – Target Sighted
Jean was on edge. He was glad the Commander hadn't split him and Sasha and Connie up, but he was anxious about Armin, Mikasa and the others. He particularly hadn't wanted to be separated from Armin, especially since Mikasa was a target, knowing Armin would do anything to protect her. That's why he'd sent Marco's ghost off with them. Jean had been so relieved when, like earlier with Sasha, Marco had done as he asked, although he honestly wasn't sure what sort of protection, if any, Marco could offer.
He still couldn't believe someone wanted to kill Mikasa that badly. Why her in particular? Or were there posters out there for Armin and Eren too, maybe even Captain Levi and the Commander? He severely doubted there'd be one with his own name and image on it. He'd never done anything at all remarkable or impressive, except maybe for that gas run he'd led while protecting Trost.
Jean kept a nervous eye out for the Military Police. The last thing he wanted was to run into any of those bastards, after what they'd done to the three of them. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, having him and Sasha and Connie all in a single group like this, although being with Commander Erwin certainly made him feel the safest he possibly could be, if he wasn't with Captain Levi: even injured as he was, the Captain would still kick ass.
It was amazing how different it was, riding disguised as a Garrison soldier. They weren't glared at or sneered or laughed at, or viewed with pity or disdain. For the most part, they were just ignored. It was a welcome change. Especially when they began seeing signs of the Titan battle between Eren and Annie: a pristine perfect block, except for a single pile of rubble where a building used to be. Or a mostly intact house, with the roof or a wall caved in, where a hand had come down, or a butt, or a foot hadn't quite cleared the corner, in the violent chase. Some areas or buildings were roped off, while others had construction crews hard at work.
Jean thought the most disturbing were the mournful, still sites with vases of flowers and candles, with tankards of long stale ale beside them, or a book, or a kerchief, until he saw the one with the dolls, and another with a stuffed bear, poignant shrines to incomprehensible loss. Titans weren't supposed to kill people within the Walls. That was the whole point of the Corps, to keep them at bay. Yet the Titans who ravaged Stohess had been two of their own – part of the military, at least, though Annie had been an MP.
He wondered if Eren was also seeing crushed buildings and impromptu shrines. Thank God it wasn't Armin who was the Titan. He didn't think Armin could ever forgive himself for what had happened. He knew Armin hadn't forgiven Annie, that he never would. Which was fine by him. Jean didn't think she should be forgiven, for what she'd done, and maybe now she'd finally be forced to face her crimes, thanks to Hange's dynamite.
They made it halfway across the city without anything unusual or threatening happening. Maybe that was why Jean noticed the man who had just left his house and looked up at them in casual interest, because the man's gaze turned to shocked recognition as he stared at them for a moment, before he turned away and darted back into the house, slamming the door behind him.
Jean eyed the door suspiciously, half expecting the man to appear with a half dozen others at his back, ready to start trouble, but the door remained resolutely closed as Jean stopped his horse and turned in the saddle, unwilling to look away, an uneasy feeling blossoming in his gut as the others rode past the house.
His eyes automatically scanned upwards, likely because the trouble, the danger they usually faced, came from above. And that was when he saw it, the sway of bright curtains, the telltale jarring glint of dark metal in the late afternoon sun.
"Sniper!" Jean yelled, feeling like a fool, but unwilling to risk being right and not acting, as he shot his grapples into the side of the building and headed for what appeared to be a gun barrel protruding from the window, blocking the potential line of fire to the others with his own body, half convinced he was being paranoid, overreacting like an idiot, that the Commander and later the Captain would chastise him for it, until he heard the crack of a shot and at almost the same instant felt hot metal rip through his left bicep, terrifyingly close to his heart. Then he was through the window, the force of the bullet not enough to stop him, the upper glass smashing, the wooden frame splintering, his feet impacting against a hard chest, as he rocketed into the room.
Jean scrambled to his feet, as the man clambered to his, a look of fury on his face as he swung the rifle at him, using it as a club. "You protected that murderer! I'll kill you for that!"
Jean ducked the blow and spun, slamming his right fist into the man's arm. The gun went flying into the wall, as the man fell to the side, unbalanced by the blow. Jean dove towards him and tried to follow up with a left hook to his face, but belatedly discovered he was unable to form a fist or move his left arm properly.
The man retaliated, striking out at him, targeting his wound.
Jean's roar of rage turned into a scream as fire consumed his arm and his vision blurred into a red haze. He toppled forward, but grabbed the man's shirt with his right hand, trying to hold him down, to keep him from his gun, even as his head snapped back from a second blow he hadn't seen coming.
"Bastard!"
Jean was barely able to process that the oddly muted sounding scream of fury was Sasha's, as the man was torn out from under his grasp and he heard crashes and bangs. He fought against the pain and dizziness and the red haze, struggling to stand, to help. Sasha! I have to protect Sasha!
"Blouse, that's enough! Don't kill him! We need to question him, to find out who he's working with," the Commander ordered, from just above him.
When did Commander Erwin get here?
"Jean? Fuck, shit, he's bleeding! He's been shot!" Connie yelled in alarm.
Holy shit. Shot. That bastard actually shot me! He really had been trying to kill us. No. Not us. Murderer. One of us.
"Kirstein, stay with us," Commander Erwin ordered, as a strong hand clamped over his wound, making the command impossible to follow, as a screaming wave of pain ended in darkness.
0 0 0
"Jean!" Sasha yelled, panicked, as he fell limp.
Weber, one of the two Garrison soldiers riding with them, knelt beside Jean, feeling for the pulse at his throat, as the Commander kept his bloody hand clamped tightly to the wound, to staunch the flow of blood. "His heart's still strong," Weber assured them, as he tore open a field medic kit and began pulling out gauze, tape and antiseptic.
"He got hit in the head too, with a fist. I couldn't get to them fast enough," Connie said angrily, balanced on his good leg, in the same distinctive crane style fighting stance that had gotten Sasha chewed out for "goofing around" during their cadet training, a lifetime ago. Later that same day, she'd begun teaching her intrigued combat partner the fighting form her father had passed down to her in earnest, the techniques of which Connie had quickly mastered during their impromptu practice sessions, displaying remarkable aptitude.
"We're fortunate Kirstein managed to spot him before he effectively ambushed us. If we're lucky, we'll be able to question this man and find out who he is, who he's working with, and why he attacked us," Erwin said, scowling reprimandingly at Sasha.
"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking. I just, I saw Jean's blood and the gun and … Why would he want to shoot us?" Sasha asked, not understanding how anyone could want to kill another human, especially not a soldier, someone protecting them all from the monsters wanting to eat them.
"The rest of the house is clear. It looks like a woman and at least one child live here as well, but if there was anyone else home, they're gone now," the other Garrison soldier said, entering the room.
"Good. Daniels, go back down and secure the horses. The last thing we need is someone stealing them or the supplies. But keep an eye out for trouble," Weber told the other Garrison man. "We'll send someone back here to question the man's wife, once she returns."
Daniels nodded and left.
Jean moaned as Weber sponged the blood away from the wound.
"The bullet went through the fleshy part of his arm. It doesn't look like it did too much damage, it looks like it missed both the artery and the bone. He's lucky. Neither Daniels nor I have any enemies, and the Garrison isn't loved, but we aren't actively hated in Stohess either. It looks like this man was likely targeting one or more of you, that he apparently recognized you as Scouts, in spite of the Garrison jackets. It was probably you that he was targeting, Commander, since other than Captain Levi and Eren Yeager, and perhaps Armin Arlert and Mikasa Ackerman, very few Scouts are known on sight," Weber theorized.
Commander Erwin stiffened. "Let's hope that no one has targeted the four of them. Damn it, I never should have sent them together."
"He said … something about … me protecting a murderer," Jean mumbled, as he tried to sit, and then hissed and fell back.
"Jean! Don't move, you idiot. Let him take care of you," Sasha chastised, as she felt her cheeks wet with tears, which she wiped away. Thank goodness he wasn't killed!
"It looks like you might have just saved my life, Kirstein. Thank you," Commander Erwin said solemnly.
"I didn't … really think… I'd be able to pay Captain Levi back so quickly… for him saving mine a second time," Jean muttered, between clenching and unclenching his jaw against the pain, and suddenly Sasha remembered Jean's words to Eren, after Levi saved them from the MPs: "Someday, maybe I'll repay him by saving him, or Erwin, or Armin or you or Mikasa."
"Tell us what you saw," the Commander ordered.
"He was leaving this building, but…" Jean broke off with a hiss of pain, and he paled.
"Sorry. But I need to clean the wound and wrap it tightly, and I can't give you any painkillers while we're out here," Weber apologized. "When we reach our base, the doctor there will make sure the bullet didn't fragment inside, or chip off any bone, before he stitches it shut, but he can give you anesthesia for that, so you're not in pain."
"OK…it's not as bad now, but shit, that hurts. I'm even more impressed by Armin now. Crap. Armin. He's going to be upset when he sees me."
"Kirstein…." Erwin encouraged.
"Oh. Right. Sorry. So I saw him leaving the house, but when he saw us, he looked shocked, and then he ran back inside, like he was going to get his friends to kick the crap out of us or something." Jean winced and flinched, but then continued speaking.
"But then the door stayed closed, and I just automatically looked up at the rooftops, you know? And that's when I saw the curtain move, and the glint of sunlight on what looked like a gun barrel. I wasn't even certain that's what it was, I kind of half expected to look like a complete idiot, but I just couldn't take that chance, so I warned you all and went after him, because I didn't think any of you saw him. I'm not thrilled I got shot, but it would have been a lot worse if I hadn't gone after him."
"Do you think you can make it the rest of the way across Stohess and to the base on horseback? It's not very far from the Inner Gate of Stohess to the Garrison 3 base," Erwin encouraged.
"Yeah, I can make it. But what about this guy? Do we just strap him to one of the packhorses?" Jean asked.
"Yes, after we bind him securely. I don't want any more surprises," Erwin said grimly.
0 0 0
Armin jumped, startled, and reined in his horse. "Was that a gunshot?"
"Sounded like it. We'll let the MPs or the Garrison worry about it. I don't like being out in the open like this any longer than we have to be. Be sure the three of you keep your faces hidden in those cloaks," Levi ordered.
"But what if one of the other groups is in trouble?" Armin asked.
"There was only the single shot. I doubt it was aimed at any of us, but if it was, the gunman will have the other five in the group to answer to for it," Levi said coolly, the tone of his voice belied by the fact that he was staring intently in the direction of the shot, as if trying to see through the buildings.
Armin felt the blood drain from his face. "You mean one of us might have been killed? How can you just say that, like it doesn't even matter?" Armin accused, shocked, even seeing Levi wasn't as unaffected as he'd made it sound.
"Because if they're already dead, there's not a damned thing you or I or anyone can do about it. You do your best to lay their ghost to rest, and you move the fuck on. It's either that or take a gun to your head, the way Jean did, which just means one more loss for those left behind. Or you drown yourself in a bottle, and next mission take half a dozen teammates with you, because you're either too drunk or too hungover or shaking too badly from the DTs to fight effectively. I've seen stupid, selfish fuckers take both those options, and their emblems have a drawer all to themselves in my room, away from everyone else's, because I refuse to dishonor the memories of those who fought and died bravely, protecting their squadmates and civilians, but I don't ever want to forget those other bastards. In the end, they were murderers. They deserved to die. This is a cold, hard, cruel, deadly world, Armin. You know that as well as anyone," Levi accused.
"I… OK, fine. But what if whoever fired that shot is still out there? What if they got away, and next time they hit one of Hange's packhorses? If you shoot dynamite, will it explode?" Armin asked.
"You're just a fucking ray of sunshine today, aren't you Armin?" Levi said acidly, even as he looked toward the west again, where the sound had come from. "There would have been more shots by now. Look, brat, this could also be some sort of trap, to draw us in or expose ourselves. Regardless, if the MPs are anywhere near there, we can't risk them seeing us. We need to get to the base. There's too much we don't know about why they're trying to arrest Mikasa. And things we need to tell Pixis."
Armin looked guiltily at the packhorse carrying Randall's body. Pixis had assumed it was a Scout who had been killed. He hadn't realized the body was one of his own men, one of his inner circle: a friend.
He felt a comforting hand on his right shoulder, his injured side, the warmth of the touch calming him. At least he was with Mikasa and she… He froze, reining in Patroclus as he saw Mikasa was meters away. And Eren was beside her. Then who was comforting him? It wasn't Levi.
Patroclus whinnied in distress and Achilles trumpeted an angry challenge and immediately wheeled about, heading for them, as Armin turned his head in surprise to see which of the Garrison soldiers was touching him, kind of annoyed now, and then he shivered. Because no one was there. But he still felt the hand.
What the heck?
Armin turned back around and jerked back just in time as Achilles lunged for his shoulder, though fortunately Levi also hauled on his reins, yanking him back, before Achilles could bite him.
"What the fuck's gotten into you, you little shit? Patroclus is fine. Armin would never hurt him. Try to bite Armin again, and I'll chop you up and sell you on the Black Market as stew meat," Levi threatened.
Armin realized the eerie touch had vanished with Achilles' attack, as if it had never been. And it couldn't have, could it? Was he so freaked out about the shot, he was imagining things, wishing Jean was there to hold him?
Levi turned his attention from Achilles to Armin. "Fuck. Next time, if he lunges at you, punch him in the face. He must have scared the shit out of you. You're nearly as white as my pants, Armin. You look like you just saw a ghost."
Armin gasped as the analogy provided the only marginally sane yet still impossible rationalization. Saw? No. But felt one, maybe? Except ghosts aren't real, are they? Unless… could it have been Randall, maybe? Or… oh God! What if it was Jean who was shot? And his soul came to me, just to make sure I was OK, before going to heaven? Armin's already pounding heart felt like it might suddenly stop.
"Fuck. You didn't, did you?" Levi asked, staring at him with frightening intensity.
"Didn't what?" Armin asked distractedly, as his thoughts raced, hating how his voice suddenly sounded squeaky again, like back when he was a terrified cadet.
"See a ghost. Is something fucking with you, Armin? I've never come across a malevolent spirit, and if anyone should have, it would be me, but that doesn't mean they're all benign. If you see or hear or feel anything weird, you need to tell me," Levi ordered. "So did you see one?"
"No," Armin answered truthfully, because he hadn't seen anything, he'd only felt it, and he couldn't have, could he? Did Levi really believe in ghosts?
"Have you ever seen one?" Armin challenged.
"Tch. I should be so lucky," Levi responded, a wealth of bitter grief and loss in his voice.
Does that mean he thinks he's seen more than one, or that he wishes he had seen one? Armin couldn't ask him to clarify his vague statement.
"What's going on? Why did you stop? What are you two whispering about?" Eren asked suspiciously, riding up to them, sounding a little hurt, Mikasa at his side.
"We were talking about how we'd like to double team you, you know, both fuck you at once, and arguing over who'd get your mouth and who'd get your ass," Levi dissembled glibly.
Eren blanched, looking as shocked by the prospect as Armin felt. "What?"
"No we weren't! It wasn't about you at all. Why would you say that?" Armin asked, mortified, blushing darkly at the vivid mental image.
"So that you'd both clam up and whatever he didn't want one or both of you to know would stay secret," Mikasa piped up confidently. "But you're all drawing attention to us, and that's the last thing we need right now."
"Shit. She's right. I fucking know better. I guess that shot has me more on edge than I was willing to admit. I'm worried it was directed at one of us, but we'll find out soon enough. We need to get to the relative safety of the Garrison 3 base. Come on. Let's pick up the pace a bit," Levi urged, and the five of them matched their horses' gates to Levi's, Armin careful to keep out of the range of Achilles' teeth.