Sorry for such the long wait for this chapter (sorry LostMyPen). Easter left me a bit busy but I made sure to finish this before it got to hectic.
Hope you enjoy and thank you to everyone who's reading this :)
Eren had been quick to leave the two of them after that, muttering contemptuously under his breath about 'traitors' and many other words Jean could have easily fired back at him, some of which he did, to Mikasa's disapproval.
He sneered in response. "What? He's gone. It's done. And hey, I just saved his life. You said it – well, not aloud – but you practically said it yourself."
Her lips tightened and her lovely dark eyes shifted away towards the walled horizon. "I just...don't want him to be in danger. It was bad enough when he ran away to join but then I made a promise to his mum..."
Jean groaned internally. Mikasa's voice edged him on but he honestly did not give a single damn about Eren and his life. The bastard ran away to throw his life away? That didn't surprise Jean. He could have guessed that considering how weak he was and how Mikasa acted around him. The idiot ending up without his ear and with a ton of wounds hadn't shocked him either. The fact he still had arms was the only weird thing.
"How long did it take?" Jean asked. Confusion flashed through her expression so he elaborated, allowing himself a smile, even if it was void of any benevolence. "For him to get mauled, I mean. What's the story behind all that?" He gestured roughly to his own ears and arms.
Danger sparked in the air around the raven-haired soldier which would have made even Jean feel scared. It would have if only he hadn't built all those walls of anger. They muffled all words beyond any reason. His heart was water-proof to tears and too cold for fire to hurt it. Mikasa must have read this because the embers began to wane, replaced by concern in curiosity's clothing.
"Jean..." she warned but he wasn't going to relent. His features contorted into stone. Mikasa's expression became equally emotionless as though it was some kind of competition between masks.
"It was our first mission outside the Walls: simple recon. For what, I'm not too sure. But Eren refused to adhere fully to the Commander's instructions. We were the look-outs. Commander Erwin has always focused on evasion rather than a full-on assault, for the obvious reasons. When the outer ranks notice a titan they're supposed to notify the others by shooting up a flare. However..."
Jean almost couldn't believe it. Jaeger was an utter, complete moron yet this seemed to be crossing the line of reality. It seemed too impossibly idiotic.
"I only just managed to save him. He was the first casualty of the mission and because of it..." Mikasa furrowed her narrow eyebrows. "It was one of the factors that led to its abortion."
"So Jaeger's not exactly in the Scouts' favour?" Jean rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Not surprising. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say that one of the others would off him."
The young woman didn't say anything further but her silence, so different from usual, was all the answer anyone would need. It wasn't only the titans and Jean who had a death wish for the bombastic Scout. If only he hadn't needed to take Eren's place. Jean would have traded Eren's life for Marco's without a single moment for breath although for the sake of needing the time to avenge his friend, Jean chose not to voice that thought in Mikasa's presence.
There was an awkward atmosphere that kept thickening as both Jean and Mikasa were forcing out small talk. Jean had to pretend he knew where he was going and that he was doing so legitimately so it had to look like he was distracted only by conversation.
The ODM gear felt heavy on his sides and he had to get used to walking in it again but it still hadn't been that long since graduation so he couldn't find a reason to doubt himself. The equipment felt as natural to him as it did back then and despite having the so-called 'Wings of Freedom' emblazed on his back, it was strangely right. He had actually had fun, soaring through the forests and even the fields on ODM. Jean was talented so of course he enjoyed the times he could put it to use. That was the one thing the Military Police didn't have.
Jean almost froze. The past was as transparent as glass, the future as opaque as gravel. In his attempts to avoid the poison he couldn't turn to the former. However, in doing so all thoughts of his next step dissolved. Could he really return to the Military Police after all this? The thought of Hitch and Marlowe turned his mouth acrid with disgust.
"Here," Mikasa whispered from the corner of her mouth, gesturing blandly with her hand to an enormous marquee. On the outside it was lined with Scouts and Jean assumed it was full of them on the inside as well.
"Where are we going?" Jean breathed back. "Do we belong on the outside or in?"
"Not every Scout participates. You and I are so we need to be inside for the briefing. Just follow my lead and no-one will have a reason to suspect anything. No-one knows everyone."
Jean nodded and followed Mikasa's lead. She shepherded him through the large ceiling of coarse material and into the crowd inside. Some already donned the green cloak but the surprising majority were like Mikasa and I, only wearing the brown jackets and equipment. There was a lively chatter from all the many conversations melting together and more heads than Jean could count at that stage but that fact didn't prevent his eyes from darting about, scanning every person they fell on. He kept searching, barely containing his surging fanatasism, for the thief. The proximity churned his insides yet Jean felt like fire in his blindness. He was so close he could almost wring their neck, yet he had no idea which person he was aiming for.
His agitation once again led to him standing with uncharacteristic fidgeting, something Mikasa's sharp eyes were quick to catch.
"Are you not as confident as you said, Jean?" she asked coolly.
Jean scowled. "I'm fine. I-"
"Jean!"
Nearby heads whipped around at the outcry with scanning, confused gazes. A pair of light brown eyes eventually met blue. Jean swore and quickly turned but it didn't fool the pursuer for even a moment. Jean slapped away a hand and curled his fingers around Armin's wrist.
"Remember what I said, Arlert?" Jean growled menacingly. "Leave me alone!"
Jean had hoped that would be enough but then he felt pain stab at his upper arm, forcing his hand to spring open and release Armin. His other hand flew to his arm to massage the aftermath of Mikasa's jab.
He grinded his teeth as the dark-haired soldier faced her friend. "Armin, what's going on?"
Armin's eyes widened incredulously. "I was going to ask you the same thing. Why did you let Jean take Eren's place?"
Mikasa furrowed her eyebrows. "Wha..? How did you find out?"
"Eren just passed me."
"Dammit." His voice brought Armin's attention back to Jean who was still half-facing away.
"Jean, you can't do this! It's too dangerous. Do you know what will happen if you get caught?"
"Armin," said Mikasa. "Jean asked me and I had to let him. It was this or putting Eren in danger again. Jean was one of the best with his ODM gear so he can do it. He won't be caught."
Armin threw up his arms in frustration, or at least did so partially. The supervisor had become startlingly aware of everyone surrounding him and the many eyes they'd now attracted so he kept his elbows by his side, trying to reduce the space he was taking up.
"That's not what I mean, Mikasa. It's something…else. Jean, you're the main suspect. There was an MP – his name was Freudenberg, I think – and he says that they're after you!"
Now it was Mikasa's turn to look surprised. "Suspect?! Jean, what..?"
Jean held up a fist at Armin, shaking with fury. "Don't you dare, Arlert! This has nothing to do with you or them! What I'm doing doesn't concern the MP anymore. They gave up."
"No they haven't. They're…"
"Looking for the wrong person," Jean pressed further. His voice lowered and deepened into something more like a wolf's growl than human words. "Armin, I don't care what you think. Why hasn't that drilled through your thick skull yet?"
"Because this is not the way to go about things!" Armin cried, desperation pitching his voice into even more of a wail. "Jean, the most likely situation is that the thief was just a thief. Crimes happen all the time in the Interior; you have to accept that! Nothing leads to them being a Scout!"
Jean lurched towards the supervisor but Mikasa quickly stepped between the two. "Jean!" He looked lazily from Armin to Mikasa. "What are planning? I thought you..." She stopped herself, a wise move, yet Jean didn't let it slide. He latched onto the slip-up like his anger was magnetic. All his former respect for Mikasa evaporated in his rage and it boiled into cruelty. He hushed his voice with his last drop of self-control but it was no less harsh.
"What? What, Ackermann? Tell me! Did you think I actually cared about Jaeger? That I wanted to save his life? I'll do it, but that is not why I'm doing this."
Anger flared in the air but this time it was Armin's job to restrain Mikasa. He didn't do it physically, however, his presence seemed to remind her of the people surrounding them. That was the only thing keeping any of them from attacking the other. The dark of Mikasa's irises were so alight and heated that she might have set the grass below on fire.
"Everyone!" A loud clear bark broke through the tension and the heads of Mikasa, Jean and Armin all snapped forwards.
The source was a tall, muscular man with short blonde hair and monstrous eyebrows. He stood with his legs planted apart confidently and the green cloak draped over his shoulders but parted so the straps of his ODM stretched over his chest and a turquoise bolo tie could be seen. The man folded his arms behind his back in an instantly commanding pose.
Jean flicked back to Armin with an arrogantly arched eyebrow. "Armin, I'd scram if I was you," he whispered. "You can't do anything now."
Too many desperate emotions began twisting at Armin's face. Distaste twitched the corners of his lips downwards; protest pulled his mouth ajar; fear quivered in his eyes; and his forehead was creased in concern. However, in the end his weakness won out, if such a thing could happen. Armin ducked his head and edged out from the tent.
Mikasa held herself like stone in front of Jean so you could have believed that she wasn't even breathing. She wasn't doing to start a conflict in front everyone, especially with the Commander right there, but she was not happy about it. Jean subtly stepped away from Mikasa, hoping to lose her after the briefing was done, and resumed his search while paying the least amount of attention he could to the Scouts' leader.
"This day is of the upmost importance to the people within in the Walls. The Scouting Regiment needs this day to succeed if we are to continue. The public must understand their taxes have not gone to waste!"
Jean quietly scoffed. As if anything you all do doesn't go to waste. You do realise that you're doing a grand total of nothing for humanity, right?
He continued to turn his head, scanning methodically while the Commander prattled on in an overly-important voice.
"For the sake of safety – for you and the public – we have set up a perimeter quarter of a mile away from Wall Maria to divert any and all titans that we do not wish to tackle head on. However, the majority of the kills will take place within a tenth of a mile.
"The majority of titans allowed within the radius of the show will be of the three to six metre class. Seven metres will be permitted but anything above seven will be swiftly taken out or led away by one of the border teams."
Jean glanced back and saw the blonde gesturing to some chart being held up by someone to his side. It looked like an uncomfortable job in retrospect. Who would get paid to hold up sheets of paper all day?
"You will take on the titans in groups – solo kills have the potential endanger the mission – yet we are on a timer. Always remember the borders. They will be dealing with the titans of larger classes and will not be there indefinitely."
There was short sort-of laugh to his other side and the Commander strangely deferred to the person instead of reprimanding them. They were the red-haired and goggled person from before. A wide, scarily maniacal grin stretched across their excited face which made Jean almost back away from the crazy radiation. He managed to stop himself in the act but he did take another glimpse around the room. That was two out of three yet Jean couldn't spot the third, the short one he'd seen with the insane duo.
The soldier was alight with a dangerous energy that Jean was convinced shouldn't have been allowed in the military. They bounced on the heels of their feet and seemed to be wringing their hands eagerly. Not a good sign to say the least.
"With all the human activity around Wall Maria we're bound to encounter lots of titans: maybe even some fourteen metres, or abnormals!"
They were definitely too happy to say that.
"So the number on the borders will far outweigh the ones on the field. If you spot one, send up a black flare and we'll dispatch one of the senior squads. Try not to kill it too soon!"
"Do not approach the abnormals unless you have been given the order to do so. Anything out of the ordinary poses a threat." The Commanded looked awfully quick to jump in. As he continued his briefly Jean realised he was going back to what each group would do so Jean resumed tuning him out. He wasn't going to both with the Commander's precious plan anyway.
Thankfully it didn't take long for the Scout to shut up finally. There was a sudden sound and Jean found everyone else saluting. Jean wasn't going to salute a Scout but still managed to fake an invested look in case anyone's eyes darted his way.
The Commander's actually quite striking blue eyes crawled across the crowd of heads before him, scanning all the soldiers like a wave of cold rushing through the marquee. His eyes shooting wide, Jean's gaze rushed away. Even when turned Jean could feel the Commander's eyes boring into him, trying to break into his mind. He was almost grateful when the still cracked into the bustling of movement that came with the Commander's dismissal.
A surprising minority of people were wearing the iconic hoods as everyone slowly, but chaotically, filed out of the tent like the flow of a river. The rattling of the ODM gears and the muffled clamour of footsteps on grass filled the air along with the shuffling bodies of soldiers. The movement pulled Jean along with them and he allowed it for the moment; it wasn't as if a plan had magically appea...
A flash of dark green. A flash of dark brown.
His blood disappeared. Ice flooded his veins in its stead. His breath disappeared. Fire swam in his lungs. The battle surging through Jean's body left one no-man's land: his face.
They were a masculine figure under the short hooded cloak. Jean looked past the young woman blocking his way and he felt his body surging through the crowd. Pushing his way closer and closer. But there were people in the way. Groans were coaxed out of the people as Jean's elbow butted them out of his path and anger rose as the soldiers shoved him back in turn. He tried to cut through. The thief was there. The murderer was there. So close to him it was agonising!
Jean's hand lunged out, stabbing through the heads and shoulders but his clawing hand fell short, just missing the oak-brown hair snaking out of the damned green hood. Jean stumbled as a breeze smacked his face. He was outside. This sudden realisation cracked through his mind and the enormous roar of a thousand people chattering lowly at once.
His eyes darted back and locked onto the crowd lining Wall Maria. So many people. All here for...what?! The blood in Jean boiled with renewed anger. So many people had been brought here for the Scouting Regiment's bloody farce! His face contorted with disgust, wrinkling his nose and clenching his fists. The Commander was a moron.
He shook his head and remembered his mission. "I won't let you get away!" Jean growled under his breath. The earth was soft under his boots but outside the Walls the grass was wild and long. Despite the blades snagging and snatching at his feet, Jean started to run. The bustle of Scouts was thinning and the obstacles in his path moved away. All around him there were soldiers shooting off on the ODM to their positions on their Commander's precious plan, but the bastard kept going forwards, so that's what Jean did as well.
Around the two of them there were plenty of people hanging around, waiting. For what Jean didn't care to think about until it was right in front of him.
The ashen-haired soldier staggered to a halt. His mouth falling open and his eye bulging in their sockets. The combined mumbling died as if everyone was struck down simultaneously. Every pair of eyes made their way to the pounding ground and followed the shaking to its source in fear.
Thud!
Jean's chest was flattened by his own shock.
Thud!
Gasps rang out throughout the Walls.
Thud!
It was horrific. It was horrible. It was a titan.
Despite his years of training Jean's throat constricted in dread and he gagged on his own failed breathing. All rational thought escaped him. The only words he could muster were already falling from his mouth over and over and over.
"I'm screwed. I'm screwed. I'm screwed. I'm screwed. I'm screwed..."
Five metres tall – three times taller than Jean – with baggy, inhuman human skin, the titan trudged closer and closer, leaving deep muddy footprints and causing the ground to reverberate in front of it. Monstrous, watery black eyes snapped from prey to prey in its twisted face with features stretched like old leather over dead meat. Those eyes were full of mindless hunger, a desperation to kill and eat every person it saw, including Jean. Its stomach was swollen and furled down, swaying grotesquely with the kick of each colossal step. Its teeth, flat and wheat-yellow, were bared with the titan's lips pulled sickening over its gums and short, coarse hair sank across its forehead.
As Jean stared he was filled with horror. H-How can there be more of these monsters!? Oh, gosh no. How can they be bigger?! Even inside his own skull the words were pitching and warbled with terror. He didn't care about what the hell the Scouts were doing. In the shadow of this repulsive beast, Jean swore; he would never be a part of their utterly insane plan. They could die without him.
"FOR THE SCOUTS!"
Jean's body seized up so he was standing as if his spine just cracked into a metal rod. The voices of distant announcers exploded in an attempt to cover the horror as effective as throwing a bucket of paint on a wall. Although, horror was the point.
Then he swore loudly and swung his head around. Scouts were hurling themselves the titan as more slowly filed into the makeshift area formed by the natural barrier of tall oaks. The crowd's fright slowly mixed with an excitement being riled up by the nearby announcers but Jean's eyes narrowed forwards.
He caught the thief once more and refused to let him leave his sight again. He must have been on the border patrol. Perfect. Jean didn't smile – his face was weighed down with his hatred – but instead his expression skewed cruelly.
Jean raised the dual blades gleaming on their twin handles and with a burst of gas he lurched into the air. He shot up, dragged by the hooks that pressed and pulled at the straps wrapping his entire body. His eyes widened automatically, taking in as much as he could without even needing to think about it. In that moment of flight all his training came back with a rush as though he'd never left. He took in all the distances between him and every post for the hooks to lock onto. He made a note of all the people around him, but most importantly, he focused on his target.
The soldier allowed a moment of freefall before shooting the wires into the ground and throwing himself away from the titan to his enemy, ignoring the tremors the titan's roars sent down his back. That fight was someone else's fight: something for the suicidal bastards heading their way.
It was like a sole fire in the middle of a dark night. Nothing else was visible to Jean but the light was not something safe. The wind pressed the skin against his face as he sped up, allowing his momentum to propel him when the ODM couldn't escalate him any further.
The murderer eased onto the grass from his ODM, scratching his head underneath his hood; he was completely unaware of Jean behind him. He strolled around and paced carelessly, looking around for the nonexistent titans and then a thought struck Jean like a club.
Marco's life was taken by a Scout. Marco's life was taken by this bastard who felt like ambling around the edge of a show. Marco's life was not worth less than this Scout's life.
Jean was moving but everything was a blur, lost to a wrath so hot and so cold it hurt.
But it didn't hurt as much as Marco's death.
Jean retracted the hooks and they snapped back into the ODM. With nothing suspending him any longer, he could manipulate his fall to end with a kick to the thief's back. He crumpled to the floor immediately.
But it didn't hurt as much as a knife.
Jean unsheathed a set of blades and slashed them through the air, making sure he was used to them. The thief was scrambling back and crying out, however, the spot on the east edge was far from both the rest of the border patrol and the audience far away. The handles were heavy in his hands after the weeks of not practicing.
But it wasn't as heavy as Jean's heart. The only sound was it pounding ferociously in his rib cage like a rabid animal baying for blood. That animal took home in Jean's chest and in Jean's head. His vision was tinted the red of blood and dulled the shade of steel.
Jean walked closer and pressed the heel of his boot down hard on the thief's foot. He pushed it further into the ground to assert that the thief could not escape his punishment.
Marco was better than this. Marco would always be a better man than the pathetic murderer at Jean's feet. Marco was a better man than Jean would ever be, despite his consistent insistence that the latter was a good, moral man.
The swords gleamed strangely as they were raised closer to the cloud-covered sunlight and Jean bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.
Marco was kind and Marco was honest. But he had been wrong before.