A/N: Hello fellow Jean-lovers! This is an attempt to break some crippling writer's block. As such, it's a complete indulgence of Jean whump, hurt/comfort, and slow burn romance.
This story will not be 100% canon compliant. It's supposed to take place between season 3 and 4, but I can't promise complete accuracy. This story was written to get me back into the groove of writing, and I'm not going to add any kind of pressure on myself by worrying about canon compliance.
Warnings: Canon-typical language and violence towards people and animals. There will be sexy times. I'm not sure how mature it'll be, but the rating will be changed accordingly.
Enjoy :)
Frost Melts and Flowers Grow
Chapter 1
It's been two days, and Jean still can't believe he's stuck escorting horses and farmhands across titan-filled, ice-cold countryside. He burrows deeper into his Scouts' cloak, but the thick emerald fabric isn't enough to combat the chilly breeze. The winter sky is heavy and gray with frost. The trail is damp and peppered with patches of dead grass that cling to the horse's muddy hooves. In front of Jean, a herd of thirty horses stomp, shuffle, and nicker. They're sturdy geldings and mares with muscular thighs, veiny legs, and shiny coats. They're from the Klien stables—a family-run ranch that had supplied the Scouts with horses for generations. Connie and Sasha's laughter drifts from the front of the herd. They were stuck with this shitty job too but were somehow having fun.
Probably because they didn't have an obnoxious farmhand squawking like a morning bird.
"If you were a bit lighter on the reins, he'd be more responsive to you. Less stubborn," Pierce says. The stupid ranch boy sits astride a massive gelding, his back straighter than Wall Maria, reins held loosely.
Jean's grip tightens so much, the leather reins creak. Buckwald tosses his head.
"See? You just gotta relax. He'll be much calmer for you."
Buckwald had carried Jean through battlefields. He'd dodged titan hands, slipped between their crushing feet, and stayed steady even when running through rivers of blood. Jean was sure Buckwald had been calmer than him anytime they'd rode into battle. Pierce could stuff it.
"You know, you could also try—"
"Hey Pierce, how'd you fix that mare's shattered hoof? I forgot." Pierce turns to the Klien's only daughter like a soldier snapping to attention. Marian rides on the other side of Pierce, and as he launches into a yet another long-winded explanation, Jean can't help but send her a grateful look. She offers him a little grin, one that dimples her freckled cheeks, before nodding along to what seems to be the climax of Pierce's epic tale.
Ahead of them, the trees thin out. The horses hoofsteps turn into rhythmic clomps as cobblestones replace dirt. Tilted houses with broken doors and shattered windows loom on either side of the group. Whistles and shouts bounce between the narrowing road as farmhands guide the herd through the decimated remains of Rossen. It's the halfway point. Only two more days until they reached Scout headquarters and dumbass Pierce could ride his way all the way home.
Jean rocks forward as Buckwald steps down into a divot in the ground. It's big, about fifteen centimeters deep and 180 centimeters long. At first, Jean thinks it's a puddle. But then he notices the oblong shape and the five smaller ovals fanned along the top.
It's a footprint. A titan's footprint.
Fear drips down Jean's spine. He straightens, hazel eyes scanning the skyline, the dark alley's wedged between houses. Rossen was overrun decades ago. This trail had been used by Kliens and Scouts for years. It's safe.
And then he hears it. The rolling thunder of heavy footsteps. A rumbling.
"Scatter!" Jean's voice ricochets throughout the town as a six-meter titan's hooked nose peaks over a rooftop. He sees Connie and Sasha shove the nearest farmhands into action as he yanks Buckwald to the side, yelling at Marian and Pierce as he passes.
"Go, go, go!"
Horses thunder around Jean as he races into an alley. He scans the surrounding buildings and tries to tell himself that the cracked foundations aren't ribs, that the shattered glass isn't a skull, that the broken windows aren't half-shuttered eyes—that he isn't surrounded by rotten corpses. There's a leaning shed around the next corner. It'll have to do. Jean points toward it and looks over his shoulder at Pierce and Marian. Swears flood out of Pierce's mouth. Sweat drips down Marian's forehead and into her wide chestnut eyes.
"You two hide in there! Be quiet," Jean says with a pointed look at Pierce. Marian nods and spurs her horse faster. The two Klien workers slip ahead of Jean as he reaches for his sword hilts. With a deep breath, he pulls the triggers and braces as his ODM gear pop-whooshes into action. His stomach flutters as open air replaces Buckwald's solid body. Another trigger pull, and Jean hovers above the rooftops.
He expects the hooked nose titan's piercing gaze.
He doesn't expect the trio of blonde titans stomping towards him.
He really doesn't expect the massive palm swiping at him.
The ODM gear whirrs. The grapple hooks pierce a chimney and yank Jean backwards so fast, the harness tears into his shoulders and thighs. It still isn't quick enough. The titan's hand crashes into Jean and sends him careening into a rooftop. There's a crack and boom and pain screaming up his leg and a yelp as shingles tear at his skin. Black spots dance across his vision. Ringing fills his ears.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Icy air trails down Jean's throat with each breath. It gives him something to focus on, something to use to soothe the throbbing pain. Slowly, his vision clears. He sprawls across a small roof—the shed's roof. The ringing in his ears turns into screaming. At first, he thinks it's Sasha (and no, no, no, no it can't be Sahsa, it can't) but the tone if different. Richer. A harp to Sasha's windchime. The shed trembles as titans move closer.
Breathe.
Move.
Jean grunts and gathers his legs beneath him, carefully keeping weight off his throbbing left foot. His vision rocks with the motion, then settles on a cluster of downed horses. Twisted legs, bent necks, bloody foam staining their muzzles—they're dead. Most likely crushed beneath a titan foot or swatted out of the way like tiny flies instead of 500-kilogram mammals. And beneath the pile—Marian, with a horse sprawled over her body. She squirms beneath the creature but can't yank herself free.
The titan steps closer. Another scream tears through her lips.
She can't escape. The titan will eat her. Then she'll scream louder, ear drum bursting, earth shatteringly louder. Then the titan will gulp, and she'll fall silent. The thought settles into Jeans's stomach like a rock. Solid. Sure. He'd seen it happen. He'd seen it happen many, many times. He couldn't stop it. He'd never been able to.
Marco's corpse. Dull eyes frozen in wide, ghostly terror. Skin that matched the gray winter sky. Freckles speckled across cheeks like blood splatter. Teeth bared in a ghastly grin.
No. Jean couldn't stop it then. He hadn't even had the chance. Marian screams again, and it's a reminder. A reminder that there's still a chance.
The triggers click, and Jean's grapple hooks settle into a house just beyond Marian. The motor rumbles and shoots him through the lumbering titan's legs, over the pile of dead horses, and beside Marian's head. His left ankle crumbles beneath the impact. Swears spill out of his mouth as Jean maneuvers around Marian's flailing limbs to grab beneath her arms and pull.
"Hurry, hurry, hurry," she stammers. Her body slides a few centimeters forward. Jean yanks again, sweat leaving frozen trails down his face.
"I'm trying!" The titan's shadow falls over them. The ground shakes as it steps closer, tilting its potato-shaped head like it's trying to find the human morsels hidden beneath the dead creatures. Figuring Marian prefers bruises over death, Jean pulls harder, his feet slipping on the muddy stone. With a grunt and groan, she slides free. Jean falls back at the loss of pressure, yelping as Marian falls atop his legs, smearing mud and smooshing his hurt foot.
There's a moment, where beneath the pain and fear and cold, victory blooms. It grows with each pant of air, the warmth of Marian's skin beneath his fingertips, and even the throbbing pain. The dead don't hurt. It's proof. He'd taken the chance and won.
A titan's fist crushes that moment. It plucks Jean and Marian from the ground. It's hand curls like a cage and squeezes, squeezes, squeezes until their bones creak and the pair howls. The titan's hot breath bathes them. It carries rot and death and freckled corpses sprawled against walls. Jean fumbles for his hilts, but he's squished between the titan's hot flesh and Marian. She squirms against him, but there isn't enough room to move, and the titan is too damn strong. They're lifted higher. Sunlight gleams off the titan's snow-white teeth.
He's going to be eaten. A titan is going to eat him, and Marian, and he's never going to see his mom again or hear Sasha and Connie's laughter or—
Pop. Whoosh. Slice.
"Jean!" Connie soars past the titan's potato-shaped head, blood dripping from his blades. A chunk of flesh—the nape—plops onto the ground. The titan's hand loosens. Jean and Marian fall.
"Hang on!" Jean says as he snags a sword hilt, aims, and fires. Marian's hold turns into a death-grip around his waist. She squeaks as they're tugged out of the titan's hand. They're airborne and gliding towards a worn porch. They're about seven meters away when Jean is painfully reminded of what he'd seen the first time he'd flown over Rossen's rooftops.
Not one titan.
Four.
And these four were charging towards him and Connie and Marian.
The trio of blondes stomp through the porch Jean's grapple is attached to. Jean and Marian are jerked off course and sent flying towards a neighboring house. Jean tries to pull the hook in, but it's jammed or stuck or broken. He scrambles for the other sword hilt. The trigger clicks as it's pulled, but there's no pop, no grapple hook soaring, no high-flying escape. It's broken. The titan had broken it.
The Scout and farm-girl fall towards the earth with titan hands reaching for them. They smash into a house's side. Dust falls around them. Wood splinters and cracks. They skid across the floor and settle with a set of groans. Jean blinks sluggishly and raises his wobbly head. The first thing he sees is a black-veined titan belly getting closer and closer.
"Jean!"
Connie's cry is different this time. Shriller. Higher. Fused with trembling fear. Jean hears it right before the titan steps onto the house's porch, then the wall and the crumbling roof. The house shrieks and sinks into itself. The titan reaches for Jean and Marian, but the house is breaking. It's swallowing itself and the humans within. The titan can't reach them, but the bones of Rossen trap them. It's dark and musty and loud and Jean isn't sure what's happening until there's pressure and pain. Slowly, the world quiets and darkens until he knows nothing.