A/N: A while back, I came across a section of the internet that seemed to think Armin getting molested due to being mistaken for Historia was comedic, which is, quite frankly, downright horrifying. There's nothing funny about sexual assault and yet I've encountered numerous people who seem to think it's okay to joke about it as long as it's happening to a man. This is meant to encapsulate the horror of that scene from Jean's perspective.


He shouldn't be watching this.

The man nuzzles into Armin's neck, one hand slipping under his collar and working its way down his shirt.

Jean clenches his hands where they're bound behind his back, wanting nothing more than to punch that perverted bastard's teeth right down his throat.

There's no give. Predictably.

He's been relegated to nothing more than an audience to his friend's debasement and he can do absolutely nothing to stop it from happening.

He honestly thinks he might be sick.

Don't touch him. Don't touch him.

Horror clogs his throat and he shuts his eyes tight.

A sharp whimper Armin can't hold back has him snapping his eyes back open in time to see the man jerking back in surprise.

"You're a boy!"

Maybe under different circumstances, Jean would have found the man's ridiculous level of outrage funny.

Maybe.

But when the man rips Armin's wig off, expression contorted in rage, and he sees Armin's face, still terrified and tear-stained, it's anything but amusing.

For the first time, he manages to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "Armin…"

The look Armin sends him is stricken and Jean feels a stab of pain in his heart.

"So if he's not Historia Reiss…" The man (no, he's not a man, Jean thinks viciously, he's swine) has recovered himself and has now stepped forward, clapping a hand on Armin's shoulder, "then I'm guessing that means you're not Eren Yeager either. Am I right?"

Jean grits his teeth and glares at the pig. If looks could kill… well, he'd be a smouldering pile of ashes on the floor right now.

It's the first time Jean has found himself seriously wishing harm on another human being (and Eren doesn't count. Besides, Jean didn't really want him dead.), but seeing his friend tremble under this man's hand… it makes him want to burn something.

"Where are they?" he asks. When Jean doesn't answer, he slides his hand under Armin's chin, tipping his head back, raising it so he has no choice but to look right at Jean. "Or maybe you won't tell me. Maybe I would prefer it that way, hmm?" He turned his head, rubbing against Armin's hair. "Ah, I'd love to keep playing with him. He's pretty enough to be a woman. Could sell him too."

Jean has seen suffering before- he's seen cruelty- but there's a level of sickness present in the way this man looks at Armin, in the way he wants him, that's entirely new to Jean.

Armin is trembling violently.

And Jean… Jean strains against his bonds hard enough that they're digging painfully into his flesh.

He can't give up Eren and Historia.

Even if he wanted to, he can't.

He trusts Captain Levi.

Or it would perhaps be more accurate to say that he wants to trust Captain Levi.

He wants to believe that he'll show up and end this before this gets that far.

Deep down, he knows that there was always this risk that things could go wrong. That at any moment, the deception could be uncovered and that this endeavor could end with a well-placed bullet in both of their skulls.

They both had known and they had accepted it at the time.

Maybe Jean hadn't taken that danger seriously, though he doesn't see what doing so would have changed.

Maybe he would have said no if he had thought about this.

(Deep down, he knows that's not the case. He understands the stakes riding on this mission. He's not that selfish.)

Perhaps the question is not so much if they'll get here, but whether they'll get here in time.

Please hurry because I can't watch this any longer.

There's a lump in his throat and that makes it harder to breathe.

He shuts his eyes.

Please hurry.


Armin won't look at him and that's the worst of it.

He keeps his head down, hair shading his eyes. His shoulders tremble minutely- the only movement Jean has seen from him since that bastard was called away and left them alone.

Jean wishes he would say something or even just raise his head.

His shirt is torn open, but that's the worst of it. Jean doesn't know if the man would have kept going if he hadn't been interrupted and he doesn't want to know.

"Armin…" He tries again, unsuccessfully, to capture his friend's attention. "Armin, I'm sorry… I should have… I couldn't…" He isn't sure what he's trying to apologize for.

Armin knows just as well as he does that he couldn't give up Eren and Historia. That the secure future of humanity is bigger than either one of them could ever hope to be.

Jean's breath shudders. "I'm sorry," he finally says, tone dull.

"Not your fault…" Armin doesn't lift his head, but even so, just hearing his voice does wonders to lift his spirits.

"Armin!" Jean exclaims, stopping himself when Armin flinches. "S-sorry-"

"We need to get out of here," Armin continues, before Jean's apology can be finished. He raises his head. Tears have left their marks down his face.

Jean's heart clenches to see them.

"Okay," he agrees readily. He himself has no idea what to do, but Armin has saved them all on numerous occasions.

(That he has to do so now causes a pang of guilt.)

"What do you need me to do?"

"I don't…" Armin pauses, squirming uncomfortably in his bonds. "Can you scoot your chair over here?"

"I…" Jean considers this. His wrists are bound tightly behind him, but his legs and ankles are free. He could lean forward and walk himself over to where Armin is seated, bound in a similar fashion.

It would be uncomfortable, his arms would probably hurt like hell, but it's doable.

Maneuvering the chair isn't easy. Jean has to pause several times to ease the strain on his arms, but eventually he makes it to Armin's side.

Only then, when he's safely across, do either one of them dare to breathe.

Every muscle had been taut with the knowledge that even a single sound could end with them discovered.

Who knew what discovery would mean for either one of them, but for Armin in particular?

Armin makes several attempts, fingers fumbling with the knots. He hisses under his breath, frustration with himself more than obvious.

Jean cups his hand around Armin's trembling fingers and they still.

He doesn't say anything to explain himself- his hands are steadier right now and Armin seems to understand this.

Even with Jean's steadier hands, undoing the knots isn't easier. He breaks a nail, wincing at the sharp bite of pain that follows, but he keeps at it.

In the end, it pays off and the knots around Armin's wrists come loose.

Armin takes a moment to rub some feeling back into his wrists before he begins undoing the knots around Jean's wrists.

It's slow going.

Jean bites back the need to urge him to hurry.

Armin is just as aware of the danger as he is. With the way Jean can feel his hands shaking, it's a wonder he's moving as quickly as he is at all.

The ropes fall away from his wrists and Jean immediately begins to rub the circulation back into, hissing at the pins and needles that flares up.

"Armin?" He turns to his friend. Some color is returning to his face, but he still looks pale.

"I'm fine," Armin says quickly.

He's lying.

The way Armin averts his eyes is enough of a tell.

Jean doesn't press him on it.

"Okay," he agrees. He feels breathless, in spite of doing nothing to exert himself. "Okay."

Right now, he needs to get them out.


Levi comes.

Jean, who has been in the thick of titans before, is only marginally exaggerating when he thinks that he's never been happier to see the man in his life.

With him, he brings Mikasa.

Jean doesn't think he's ever seen her angrier (except for where Eren is involved. Maybe.).

It's actually frightening and he doesn't envy the men finding themselves on the receiving end of her fury.

As terrible as her anger is, it melts away completely the moment she's at Armin's side. She's tender with him, almost motherly, and Armin doesn't protest.

He falls into her embrace, trembling ever so slightly, and she holds him close, whispering something in his ear.

Just once, she lifts her head and regards Jean.

Her lips are tight, expression dark with the promise of vengeance, but she nods once in his direction.

The message is clear.

Thank you.

Jean feels something tighten in his chest as he watches the scene unfold.

He hasn't done anything worthy of her gratitude. He hasn't protected Armin.

She shouldn't be looking at him like that.

Jean looks away.