Chapter Text
“Marco, get off of him!”
There’s shouting in the room, loud and desperate as they try to disengage Marco’s grip around Armin’s neck. The blonde has three scratches going down the side of his face, deep and bleeding, but the dark bruise settling under his eye is equivalent to the one Mikasa gave Jean—painful.
“Marco!”
Armin is trying to push him away, and it should be easy. Marco is bed ridden, leg slung up. Even if he is a piss baby, Armin should be able to get Marco off him no problem. They all know the reason he isn’t doing anything. He doesn’t want to hurt Marco more than he already is. He had been left to watch Marco. Failing something so simple would be a blow to his almost nonexistent pride.
Jean puts his hands over Marco’s and pulls them away from Armin, allowing the smaller boy to sputter back and gasp for air. Marco is shouting for Jean to let him go, attempting to wring away from him in order to get his hands around Jean’s own neck. They know Marco is unstable, but they haven’t realized until now that he is this bad.
“Marco,” Jean attempts to soothe him; takes Marco’s face in his hands to force him to look and see that he’s home. That nothing else can hurt him. Jean won’t let anything mark his fallen angel again, because he already lost Marco once. He will not lose him a second time—especially to a lonely emotion called fear. “Marco look where you are,” god why are my hands and voice shaking so much, “You’re at home.”
There’s a low, scratchy laugh followed by another long array of yelling as Marco reaches towards Jean, fingers clasping and unclasping for reach around his neck. It’s nearly surreal to Jean—the fact that Marco Bott is trying to choke him. He nearly wants to say that this person in front of him isn’t his best friend and lover, but those freckles always pull him back. Always makes him want to touch and count every damn one even in the worst of situations.
“Go to hell!” Marco screeches. His too long hair sticks to his forehead, matted down by sweat.
Jean’s heart clenches.
“Marco, please come back to me.”
His voice is quiet. In some universe or stupid novel, this would work. He wishes Marco’s eyes would clear, eyebrows rising at the dawning realization that he is in fact safe and sound. He wants Marco to cry out and latch his arms around him, that way Jean has an excuse to never let go.
But in a lifetime like this, it’s not going to happen. It’s like they are on this broken road that is sometimes held together by fading concrete. They are a construction team, trying to mend the patches, but the road is way too long and hard.
And now, a bridge is out.
“Who should I come back to?” Marco bites out. He punches and then kicks his good leg, trying to escape. Deep down, Jean knows that he should just let Marco go, but it’s hard when all he wants to do is crawl and lay right next to him.
Jean swallows. “Don’t you remember me?”
Jean knows that everyone in the room is watching, but he could care less. He pays no attention to the interrogation that Hanji is giving Armin, or the words of comfort his friends try and provide. Levi is standing behind him, close, though he feels no intimidation for once. Right now, he’s solely focused on the boy in front of him.
There’s an almost inhuman sound that leaves Marco. It’s like a feral cross between a laugh and a sob that not even a titan could match. It’s heart breaking, but the words that Marco says next leave Jean completely shattered.
“Of course I do,” Marco glares. “You’re the bastard who ripped my heart out!”
Jean stops.
What?
He pulls away a little, falling back towards Mikasa and Eren. It’s really hard for him to comprehend what Marco just said. Jean may have joked around with their relationship a little, but they never actually got into any fights, let alone one that left Marco heart broken and crying. Jean swallows loudly. It has to be the work of Kenny Ackerman…it has to be…
Mikasa grabs his hand, squeezing it gently. For a second, Jean almost pulls away. It feels sort of awkward to be holding hands with someone who isn’t the person you love, more so when he’s in the same room with said person. Although, they had done it at court when Jean was a wreck.
Still is, apparently. He hasn’t even noticed he’s crying until now. Since when is when he so emotional?
“Just ignore him,” Mikasa says. “He’s not in his right mind.”
Jean looks as Marco hits his hands against the bed, cackling a little as he starts to mock Levi’s short stature. For a second, Jean thinks he’s going to have to step between the two, because the Corporal is giving him that intimidating look.
But then Eren grips Levi’s shoulder, forcing him to turn away from the broken boy.
Jean sighs in relief, mentally thanking Eren because he’ll never say it out loud.
“Come on,” Mikasa nods towards the hallway. “Let’s get something to eat. You’re probably starving.”
And then she’s pulling him out of the room. Away from Marco. The group in the room is staring at them, Eren’s eyebrows raising as he stares at their entwined hands. Jean knows what he’s thinking and wants to tell him to get his fucking head out of the gutter. Everything between them is totally platonic, especially considering that Mikasa has feelings for Eren.
Jean wants to fight and go back to Marco. He wants to fix him—to glue all of the pieces back together. But Mikasa is strong and he feels so weak after Marco’s harmful words. “You’re the bastard who ripped my heart out!” What the hell is that even supposed to mean?
He lets himself be dragged down the hall. There’s something about Marco’s words that stick and make Jean not want to go back. Even though he loves Marco so much hi heart is already swelled to the point where a single prick of some words could cause it to implode on itself. It’s a tentative black hole.
“Ignore what he says. He’s really messed up, Jean.”
“Yeah.”
Marco is really messed up because Jean’s an idiot who called him dead, which led to nobody searching for him. Then, there’s the fact that Jean’s love isn’t enough to fix him. It doesn’t matter if Erwin believes it.
This is going to be a little hard to ignore. Especially considering he’s going to have to see Marco everyday if he wants even the slightest chance at him recovering. Okay, sure, he’s really messed up. That’s not the part that bothers him. He can deal with messed up. What he can’t cope with is the utter hatred in Marco’s eyes; the ones that used to teem with adoration and happiness and just shit, how could anybody lay a hand on a person with eyes like that?
Mikasa keeps her hold tight on Jean’s hand. His vision is blurred with tears, actually, but he doesn’t have the strength to wipe them away. He doesn’t know where she’s taking him. To be completely honest, he feels like a pliant rag doll. His emotions have been played too much for his mind not to be ripped apart.
So, he just lets Mikasa lead, because he doesn’t give a fuck.
Okay, maybe he should’ve actually given a couple fucks. Because now, they’re in the cafeteria and surrounded by plenty of other soldiers; all of whom give Jean sympathetic looks and some might even be glaring, but that might be because his cheeks are still tear stained and Mikasa is literally plowing through everyone.
“Why are we here?” Jean asks. He can tell that his own voice sounds tired. Hell, his whole being is tired.
“You haven’t eaten properly in a couple of days, Jean. If you want to help Marco, then you’re going to need your strength. We can’t let you look like a scrawny skeleton when we’re trying to convince him not to look like that.”
“He’s always been into lean men.”
“That’s nice, but you’re still eating.”
Jean sighs and can’t help but wonder when Mikasa started caring this much. When he was still interested in her, she never batted a single eyelash, but now that Eren is off limits, she’s using his pain as a kind of rebound. That’s what it feels like. There’s a tiny pang in his chest at the thought because before, if Eren hadn’t been there then neither would she.
He swallows.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Bread and potato soup,” Mikasa answers, pulling them in line. They skip a couple of new recruits who shouted at them to get back, but one look from Mikasa sends them stepping back. Man, he really really has to learn how to do that.
But that can be saved for later. At the moment, he needs to learn how he’s going to get near Marco without him screaming.
Mikasa takes a plate full of food and shoves it towards him. Then, she yanks Jean towards an empty table in the back of the cafeteria. She sits him—wow, Mikasa has been doing a lot for him—and stares until he finally takes a bite of the food. It’s bland as hell, but it feels good to finally get something into his mouth.
“Good?” There’s a small smile on Mikasa’s face.
“Eh, could be better. I think my favorite meal will always be mold covered potatoes with a side of bug filled bread. That was delicious.”
“You’re forgetting that one time Armin found a worm in his soup.”
Jean recalls. He can remember how Armin lifted his spoon to find this giant night crawler dangling from it. When he screamed, most of their supervisors came rushing in because that was the type of shout you reserved for a titan. It’s especially funny, because that night Jean and Marco had snuck out—after a lot of coaxing and begging on Jean’s part—and collected worms to put in Armin’s bed. His reaction the next morning was even better.
He laughs at the memory, though it hurts a little because it’s associated with Marco.
“I think sometime we should stick worms in something of his again,” Jean tells her. “I mean, come on, I still have to get back at him for the time he made all my underwear into capes and had every single boy in the barracks wear them.”
Mikasa raises her eyebrows, “How did he—”
“Don’t ask. He’s such an evil little genius.”
He manages to scarf down half his plate when a group of three guys came across his vision. They stand at the end of the table, giving him an expression that should scare him, but he’s already seen enough of Mikasa and Levi for it to have no effect. They are obviously younger than him, bodies still wiry and faces underdeveloped, but they are giving off this essence of pride that is kind of impressive.
“That’s supposed to be my food,” the boy in the front says. His nose is crooked, and Jean thinks that it happened because the kids a dick. “You skipped my friends and I and took the last plate. Just because you’re older than us doesn’t mean anything.”
Jean should really just shove the plate towards the kid, because he knows just how hard training as a new recruit is. But he’s never been one to back down from a fight and all these pent up emotions from Marco’s return has made him insanely irritable.
So, he takes a spoonful of food and shoves it in his mouth. “Listen, kid, I know since you’re new here that you think it’s cool and that all your little friends will be impressed that you stood up to Jean and Mikasa. But, I haven’t even seen your skinny ass in the boys barracks before, so don’t think you can walk up and tell me what’s right and wrong.”
Jean’s trying to figure it out for himself. It’s always been this and that and this and that with him; never black and white or easy. The same thing happened when he was sorting out his feelings for Marco, because while Marco had the sweetest personality and an even sweeter ass, Jean couldn’t figure out if taking a chance and ruining their relationship would be the best course of action.
His heart pangs as he thinks about the night he professed. They’d been sitting outside, the sun setting over the horizon and he can just remember how perfect the shadows casted over Marco’s face. Then Marco smiled—so bright that even though the sun was yet to disappear, he had already replaced it. That was when Jean knew that he was incredibly whipped. So, he screwed all the consequences and pulled Marco in for a longing kiss.
He must’ve shown the pain of the memory on his face. The boy—who seems to be the ring leader of the monkeys—smirks.
“Oh, are you thinking of your lover boy Marco?” Jean clenches his fists to keep the rage inside. He can’t lose his temper over some kid. “I heard that he’s in pretty bad shape. In fact, I heard that it’s your fault that he’s there in the first place.”
Jean freezes, even though he knows it’s true. Is this what everyone really thinks?
Mikasa slams her fists against the table. The kids barely flinch. Stupid idiots.
Another kid steps forward. He’s more muscle, definitely meaner looking, and reminds him a little bit of Reiner. “So, you’re going to have your girlfriend protect you now? It’s going through the grape vine that since that freak Eren Jaeger is fucking the Corporal, you and Mikasa have gotten it on. Guess it’s true, considering how Marco probably hates you.”
Jean has never seen Mikasa so livid in her entire life.
“Die and go to hell,” Jean spits. There are tears welling in his vision. He can’t hold back. He’s so angry and in so much pain and angry again because this kid’s false accusations are really pissing him off. “There is nothing going on between Mikasa and I, you little shits, now go back to the peewee table where you belong.”
He’s surprised at how even his voice sounds, especially considering how much he’s breaking inside.
“Is he crying? I think he’s crying. Jeesh, I think he’s as bad as Armin Arlert!”
Mikasa flies forward; ready to strike at the insult of one of her childhood friends, when something tall blocks her. It doesn’t taken Jean of three seconds to recognize the person as Ymir. Her expression is strangely devoid of any emotion.
“Were you saying something about my friends?”
The boys gulp, minus the leader, growing wide eyed.
“We’re not scared of you,” he says. Jean can tell he’s intimidated by the sheer height of Ymir.
Despite claiming no fear, they start to back up, only to run into two more even taller bodies. Reiner and Bertholdt, followed by a tiny person, glare at the boys like they are all titans.
“I think they were,” Reiner answers in a gruff voice.
“That’s not very nice,” Krista says.
“Think we should stomp on them?” Bertholdt asks.
The group of boys’ response is to run away. They don’t look back as they scurry like mice, and if that isn’t enough, Reiner and Bertholdt take after them like sport. People in the cafeteria roll their eyes at the commotion, because they thought that they only have to deal with this kind of crap when Jean and Eren were around.
Krista plops down next to him and lays a hand on his back, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don’t let them bother you. Everything that comes out of their mouth is fuelled by testosterone.”
Ymir cracks her knuckles. “And if said testosterone comes into view again, I’ll be sure to teach them a very good lesson on keeping it under control.”
Their words make Jean’s face burn. One, because he’s not incapable of defending himself, and two at the fact that his friends are so ready to jump to his defense. His heart does a strange flutter at this. He remembers a time where everyone hated him because he was too forward, and now, well, look at how far they’ve come.
Besides Marco. Marco has taken four hundred steps back.
He rubs the ring against his finger one, two, three times.
Jean sees Marco’s smile; vivid and innocent. He realizes how much he wants to see it again.
“Thanks,” Jean says. “I’m pretty sure Mikasa would’ve torn them apart if you hadn’t come.”
Mikasa huffs, “well, they deserve it.”
They all laugh, and it’s nice. Normal. It’s normal and that’s exactly what Jean needs, because he hates change. He wishes his superiors would’ve eased him into this, because finding out your boyfriend is alive and hates you is a pretty big change.
Shit, he really wants to take a walk now. It’ll calm him. Now, he’s thinking about how different everything is going to be. Even through the death, they’d managed to find a happy medium. Eren found Levi. Jean found a semblance of happiness.
It’s going to change.
Jean swallows.
“So, I doubt you came to rescue me. Is there something you need?”
Usually he’d have some witty remark, but he’s drained. The world around him has pulled his emotions every which way.
Ymir points towards the door over her shoulder. Jean notices that Reiner and Bertholdt had managed to run the guys out of the cafeteria. He assumes they are chasing them around outside. The notion is almost enough to make him smile.
“Corp’ wants to talk to you. Looked important,” she smiles.
He can almost hear Mikasa roll her eyes.
And he almost tells her to get over it.
But he doesn’t, because she’s done so much for him.
Jean sighs and stands up, knowing very well that it is going to be about Marco. For a split second, his mind tells him to just skip out and go to bed, but then a pang of guilt tears through him. How the hell could he think of something like that when Marco needs him?
So, he looks Ymir in the eyes and says, “take us there.”
Jean’s hates being put on the spot. It was no different in the court and it’s no different now. So, when he walks into the meeting room behind Ymir and Krista, and sees Corporal Levi with his feet propped up, he doesn’t think it is going to be that bad.
And then, of course, he notices that Hanji and Erwin are sitting there, along with several people he doesn’t recognize. He knows now that he’s going to be questioned. His nerves start up again, because what is there to really talk about.
The Corporal sighs, “It’s about time.”
Jean can see Mikasa out of his peripheral vision looking around. She’s probably searching for Eren, who Jean notices is not around. Interesting. The annoying little prick usually trails the Corporal like a lost dog.
“What do you need?” Jean asks. He tries to sound exasperated and impatient. But, when he talks, his voice just sounds shaky. Now that he’s eaten, sleep is calling. He’s not a little a child who needs constant attention from their parents. Though, that’s what he feels like.
Erwin stands and smiles, which tells Jean that it can’t be good news. He’s seen the commander use that same grin during court sessions, or delivering not too generous information. Jean braces and prepares for the worst; we can’t fix Marco.
Instead, he gets;
“There’s been a discrepancy with who kidnapped Marco—” Erwin begins, but Hanji jumps up. She’s never been the one to beat around the bush. Jean likes that about her. That’s the kind of personality he has—expect just a little less titan obsessed.
“It’s not Kenny Ackerman. He’s dead. We were wrong.”
Levi rolls his eyes at the idea of being wrong.
Jean stares at them, and then takes a step forward.
“What?”
He’s spent the last day hating a dead man. All of his energy has been wasted on a person who can’t breathe, let alone touch Marco. That pisses him off a hell of a lot more than it should, probably, but who gives a fuck anymore? Jean feels like he’s been living this nightmare all his life. The last thing he wants is to be lied to.
He feels cheated. It would’ve been so easy to track the man down and end him. But now, they have nothing. It’s like a black hole of pain and misery. This isn’t something that can be touched. The person will roam free for longer because they assumed.
“Do you have any idea who wanted to hurt Marco?”
He pushes that ring back and worth. He needs an answer. How is he supposed to get blood without a name?
Erwin shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Jean, but at the moment there are very few trails leading us-”
Levi cuts Erwin off. He’s just like Hanji and Jean. “We don’t have shit.”
He looks at every one of their faces. Levi has that everlasting bitch face, Hanji has that dreamy kind of edge, and Erwin has that façade of comfort that Jean would give his life to cut through. With those faces, he can conclude one thing: that they’re lying.
That’s the exact reason Eren isn’t here. He would be able to see through it too. When you’re alone with one of the higher ups, it’s not nearly as obvious, but after seeing them in court working together, Jean just knows that there’s no truth here.
“Are you sure?” He tries.
Jean gets the terse answer of, “absolutely.”
He wants to tell him that he knows they know, but that’s not going to get him anywhere. The last thing he needs is to get on their bad side. So, he sucks in a deep breath and asks,
“What are we going to do, then?”
Jean knows they’re surprised that he didn’t pry more. What would be the point if he was going to get zero answers? It’s like scaling a mountain with this kind of people. You have to pick where you step, or it will be a sheer drop.
“The only thing we can do is help Marco,” Erwin says. “I promise we’ll all pitch in. It’s a group effort when a family member is given back in a condition like this. I can’t say it’s the first time this has happened, but we’ve seen similar cases.
Jean has never wanted to punch someone across the face more in his entire life. All those fights with Eren can’t be combined to match his sheer rage at hearing Erwin call Marco family. Erwin never knew Marco. None of them did.
So, why are they so interested in him?
Jean knows if it was another case, as Erwin called it, there wouldn’t be court or manipulation or all of this bullshit. The person would be told to get over it. That’s how they work. It’s the life they live. There has to be something special about Marco that has the entire Survey Corps and Military Police interested.
Marco is a pawn, just like Eren had been and will always be. They want something with him that could help their cause.
He clenches his fists and tries not to look angry. He knows he can’t say anything. They could keep him away from Marco. Now, he knows he’ll be kept away from his captor too. There’s a burst of energy through his exhaustion and anger. If he wants to do something about this, then he’ll have to do it himself.
All Jean wants is this to be on a solid line. He wants to help Marco, get the man responsible for this mess, and bring Marco back to his family. That’s what everyone should want. There should be no corruption here.
There’s silence in the room.
“Is that all?” Jeans asks.
“Yes,” Levi says. “Now get out. I’m tired.”
He’s too done not to respond.
"You’re not the only one.”
Jean will get punishment for that later. He knows it.
He grabs Mikasa and pulls her out, fast. If he’s going to get Marco’s captor, then he’ll need help. Not from the corrupt big three, but from everyone he trusts. Jean will see Marco later. Right now he’ll need a plan of action.
They’re nearing the boys section of the barracks when Mikasa stops him.
“You looked like you’re about to kill someone,” she states, “I didn’t say anything for your sake. I tried to stay back.”
Jean makes sure nobody is around.
He grabs Mikasa’s shoulders and leans forward, whispering, “They’re lying.”
It sounds like the delusion of a crazy person; to think that these people they place so much faith in could be corrupt enough to use a broken kid. But it’s true. Jean can see it. He’s not crazy. They want to use Marco for something.
Mikasa presses her lips together. “You could see it too?”
He’s glad she’s not the only one. Jean sighs in relief.
“I’m not crazy.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“I need you to gather some friends,” he tells her. “They’re up to something.”
She pulls her scarf up, “do you think Eren knows?”
Of course, it always goes back to Eren. But he can’t blame Mikasa for being worried. Eren has been used in more ways than one and if he’s part of it, that’ll mean he’s as corrupt as them. That’s the last thing they need. Even though they don’t get along, Jean and Eren are still friends.
But Jean really doesn’t think Eren knows. He’s stubborn and strong willed. Even if the Corporal might be manipulating him, he would go for the right cause. Helping Marco is the course of action that isn’t tainted.
“No,” Jean says. “I know he’s not. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be cautious. You never know what he could blab or ask. We all know what Eren is like when he’s angry.”
Jean doesn’t know when he got so calm. A couple seconds ago, he could’ve screamed at the top of his lungs. He really doesn’t even feel that tired anymore. Is it possible that he’s so tired that he feels awake?
“So, what should we do?”
Jean asked that question earlier. Now, he’s giving the answer he wanted to hear.
“Go find some people we can trust. I’ll look too, and then we’ll meet at the tree.”
He doesn’t have to specify what tree. Everybody in the Survey Corps knows about the tree.
Jean turns to go.
They’re going to save Marco. He swears it.