Chapter Text
Your unconscious body shivered and jolted briefly in pain as you felt yourself being put down on a soft surface. You felt the absence of the warm, strong arms immediately.
Your mind stirred awake, whereas your eyes stayed too weak to reveal themselves. You mumbled something, not even sure that the words that slipped out of your tongue were heard.
"Y/N, are you awake?" you heard Jean ask as your gaze finally got rid of its blinds.
"Jean." you wept weakly, your mind too tired to form sentences.
He leaned in to hear your soft and cracked voice better. "Mhm, we are back at the farm, you're safe." he informs, not too soothing, almost awkward because it feels uncomfortable for him to care, be gentle, vulnerable, even though you are the one bleeding and unable to lift a finger right in front of him.
Nodding so subtly that it could be missed, your vision started getting blurry while your eyelids started feeling heavy again.
"No, no Y/N, stay awake. Sasha is coming to check on you. You need to stay awake." Jean protested, but so did your closed eyes as they refused to obey him.
Right, Sasha was majoring in nursing before all hell broke down.
There was a silent war going on in your head. Your body was betraying you as it denied you the ability to stay awake, something so simple yet so difficult for you right now.
"Y/N." You heard him again, checking if you are still here, his tone hinting at a flicker of worry for you.
You mumbled, opening your eyes, barely.
"I am awake."
Sasha and the others came rushing into the living room, towering over the couch you are lying on. Sasha crouched down hastily and told Jean to move his jacket, with which he was applying pressure to your bleeding skin.
"Stay awake for me, Y/N." Sasha warned as she lifts your blood-stained top in panic.
She kept ordering people around, asking for water, alcohol, a needle and thread.
You heard everyone move. You finally opened your eyes as you felt the cold and damp towel meet your sensitive skin. You hissed silently.
Connie's eyes found yours as your mind cleared up further. "You're going to be just fine Y/N. We are going to take care of you." he reassured with a gentle smile and sad puppy-like eyes.
The corners of your lips turned upwards slightly, but the gratitude in your weary, bloodshot eyes remained unmissable.
You heard Sasha order someone to hold your arms and feet as she will begin to stitch you up.
You saw Connie beside your feet by the second, before his trembling hands gripped your feet.
You saw Armin walking toward the armrest of the couch behind where your head is settled. He gave you an emphatic look and held you strongly by both your shoulders. "I'm sorry Y/N." he muttered, almost pitying you.
You merely nod. You were frightened of what was about to happen. Your cheeks lost all colour as your hand by your side started trembling.
"It is okay, baby. Stay strong for me. I promise it will be quick." Sasha reassured you as her hand rested on yours for a moment.
"Let's do this." She took in a deep breath as she let your hand go.
You grit your teeth and close your eyes to prepare for the upcoming agony. You hear some footsteps exiting the room before the needle pierces your skin.
You keep your mouth closed, make as few sounds as possible and move as little as the torture allows you. It takes every fiber of your pathetic being not to pass out on the spot. To not scream out and jolt out of your place.
You feel Connie's tears dripping down on the bare skin of your ankle. It crushes your soul to know that not only are you experiencing pain, but you are also causing it to those who cared about you in a blink, without a second thought.
Every tick of the old clock reaches your buzzing ears, feeling not like seconds but centuries. Time goes so slowly that you think you are shifting realities in your train of thought.
"Sasha, how much longer?" You ask, moaning in pain. Another line of water comes down your cheek. You can't figure out if it is sweat or a tear anymore.
"Last one, baby." She informs, sounding just as tortured as you.
She pierces the needle through your skin one last time, she ties the knot, cuts the thread and exhales shakily.
"Are you okay?" she asks you, clearly worried out of her mind. "I am sorry if I hurt you."
You shake your head. "You fixed me up Sash, i am grateful." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sasha nods. "I am just going to put a bandage on." She turns to Jean as Armin and Connie sat down after she finished up. "Help her sit up." She leaves to get the equipment needed as Jean walks back over to your side.
He slides a hand behind your back and lifts you up slowly as he puts another pillow for you to lean back on, not making eye contact.
"Thank you." you mutter, lifting your head to face him.
"Don't mention it." he answers, shrugging, his eyes looking far too troubled to do so.
"No. For everything. For someone who hates me, you have done far too much to not mention." You appreciate, in your own way.
"I don't hate you." he states simply and cuts the conversation as he turns around and starts cleaning the bloody mess left behind.
Sasha comes back a few moments later and puts a bandage on your injury. You smile and thank her quickly.
"This couch is an open invitation for infections. We should get you to your bed to rest." she states as she sees all the sweat and blood left behind from your earlier state.
You nod and attempt to move to stand up.
"Are you insane? Don't move."
"You legit just told me to go to my bed."
She shakes her head. "Y/N, you won't even be able to walk to your bathroom for the next three days. Your legs are crushed, your muscles need to heal and I just did a surgeon's job on you."
Jean comes near shaking his head as well, before you can answer her. "Y/N no logic. Y/N stubborn." he says to Sasha.
Did this 22-year-old, 6'2 man who is the coldest one in the house just.. mock you?
Well, Sasha did say they were close but still, seeing him be anything but annoying was surprising. He was probably trying to lift her morale.
You rolled your eyes as Sasha laughed. "Jean cave man. Jean annoying." You bit back.
"Jean carry Y/N. Both shut up." Sasha continued before Jean walked towards you with a sigh and lifted you carefully.
Sasha wished you a good night by kissing your cheek and warned you to stay off your feet and Jean to help you out as he is the only one on the same floor as you, before Jean started going up the stairs with you in his arms.
It was awkwardly silent, again. You didn't know what to say so you just looked around. You saw through her door on the second floor that Mikasa was dealing with the cut on Eren's forearm. You smiled to yourself. She always looked after him.
Jean gazed at you with a questioning look.
"They are cute together." you explained.
"They are not dating." he informed and your jaw dropped.
"What? Why?"
"Denail." he answered casually as you shook your head in disapproval.
He scoffed at the sight before opening the door of your room with the hand holding your legs, accidentally scrunching you up closer in the process.
He smelled nice.
Annie was waiting inside your room. Oh. She is the one who left.
Your sheets were changed, your ashtray was cleaned out, a few books were put on your nightstand next to a pack of cigarettes, and fresh clothes were laid out on the bed.
Jean looked surprised too, as he stopped in his tracks for a moment before placing you on the spot Annie had opened up for you.
You looked at Annie, you didn't get it.
"You didn't have to do all that Annie." you said softly. "Thank you."
"I didn't know how else to apologize." she said, looking down. "I am really sorry all this happened to you because I screwed up Y/N." Her eyes, full of remorse, locked with yours.
"Annie." You shook your head. "You didn't screw up, none of this is your fault at all. Shit happens." You reassured gently, meaning everything you said.
She nodded. She still looked remorseful but you didn't push. You never did.
Annie looked at Jean. "I am going to help her change." she stated, implying that he should leave.
Jean ran a hand through his outgrown and messy mullet awkwardly, messing it up even more. "Ugh, yeah." He turned to you. "I am going to leave the bathroom door open, Annie can open yours after you.. change. Call out if you need something." he suggested in discomfort.
This man had a problem with being kind.
Annie scoffed, similar to a laugh, mocking him. Jean gave her a sharp look.
You smiled, holding in your chuckle so as not to embarrass him more when he was already struggling. "Y/N grateful." you said, deepening your voice slightly.
His lips moved upwards an inch just for a moment before he exited with a mumbled goodnight wish.
Annie's eyes meet yours, hiding a smile in them.
"Inside jokes, huh?" she said more than asking. "You got accepted far earlier than I thought, by everyone." she stated, implying not only Jean but herself.
You shook your head with a weak smile lingering on your lips as Annie walked up to you with the fresh pajama set she had brought for you. "Arms up." she commanded after setting them down to get you out of your bloody clothes.
"Yes ma'am." you obeyed, doing what you are asked.
She slides your long sleeve up your head as her eyes rest on your now bandaged wound, a gloomy guilt settling behind her sharp eyes.
"It's not that bad." you try to fill in the weird silence, heavy with Annie's unspoken regrets.
She just nods before putting the pink shirt on you.
You assure her you can put the matching shorts on yourself, but she does it for you anyway, silently, not expecting anything in return. Something you are not used to.
She makes sure you have everything you need by your side upon realizing your gaze is getting more disconnected from the outside world by every ticking second, aching for rest.
She opens your bathroom door and leaves after giving you a broken smile.
"Good night, Y/N."
"Good night, Annie." You return her wish with your eyes half closed already and drift to the irresistible arms of sleep.
You open your eyes to darkness again. The cold breeze from the window you left open fills your lungs as the hairs in the back of your neck stand up. Your swollen eyes find the dimly lit light from the bathroom door as you sit up slightly, the bed makes a crack sound in the process.
You rub your eyes, still not fully awake and drop your bruised legs down
from the edge of the bed.
"Y/N?" You hear your name being called out as you find its source leaning on your bathroom door. He walks up to your sitting frame, towering above you as your eyes lock.
"Why are you up?" you question, thinking you woke up in the middle of the night.
Jean furrows his brows. "It is just after dinner Y/N. Are you okay?" he asks, crouching down in front of your knees as his eyes travel from your eyes to the swollen and purple sight of your legs.
You shake your head, confused. "How long was I out for Jean?"
"Almost a day." he answers as his confusion eases, reading exactly what you had thought and shaking his head to himself. "You were hurt badly, even though you don't accept that."
You don't answer that; being weak isn't your favourite chitchat subject. You shift in your place to reach the bottle of water placed on your nightstand but he beats you to it. He hands it to you before standing up.
"Where are you going?" you question.
"To get Sasha to check on you, and some soup."
"I-" You take a breath. It won't matter and he will just call you stubborn. You don't continue and nod as his eyes light up so briefly that you think that you had imagined it.
After Jean leaves, you sip your water and light up a cigarette, waiting patiently.
He comes back with Sasha and a bowl of soup as promised, just before you put the finished cigarette out.
Sasha sits beside you on your bed. "How do you feel baby? She asks as she gazes at your legs, like she was warned.
You smile slightly, "As good as new, can I try walking now?"
She shakes her head, both in rejection and disappointment. "Lie down, let me check your wound."
Lying down with a sigh, your eyes lock with Jean who is leaning on the wall across, silently observing. Sasha lifts your shirt as Jean's and your eyes stay interwined. You hiss silently as she rips the bandage slightly.
You stay silent. You don't ask how it looks or when it will be okay. Connie does as he barges in.
"Finally, I thought you were taking an eternity nap for a second." he exaggerates as he sits down on the opposite side of the bed. "How is it Patato Girl, will my wife live?"
A small smile covers your lips as you roll your eyes. You see Jean tensing up slightly from the corner of your eye.
Sasha smacks Connie's foot resting close to her playfully. "I don't think she will want to after hearing that you espoused her."
Jean scoffs something similar to a laugh as your smile widens.
Connie's betrayed gaze meets yours first. "Divorced." He turns to Sasha, "Unfriended." He finally turns to Jean, "Bitchless. and jealous of my rizz."
Jean flips him up as you and Sasha giggle.
"She will be just fine if she listens to me and keeps resting for a few more days." Sasha answers Connie's earlier question seriously this time.
"Don't care anymore." Connie shrugs as he sulks, a smile appears right after your eyes meet, though.
"I'll make sure she does." Jean says monotonously, which surprises you.
Sasha nods. "C'mon Connie. Visiting hour over." She turns to Jean and gives him some pills. "Give this to her after she eats."
"Helloo? I am not disabled." You interrupt.
They both give you a look to shut you up before Sash and Connie leaves with sending you flying kisses with their hands. You smile, shaking your head.
Jean pulls a chair next to your bed as he places the tray with the bowl of soup on your lap.
"I know there are probably a billion things you would rather be doing Jean, I don't need babysitting."
Shaking his head, he sighs, you can tell he is tired, probably sleep deprived too. "Sasha's orders." he informs, suggesting that he isn't very happy about the situation as well.
"Just go rest. You look like shit. I got this." you say as you take the spoon filled with soup to your mouth.
Jean scoffs. "How kind of you to tell the guy who is taking care of you he looks like shit."
"Just speaking my truth." you smile with hidden graditude.
"Eat your damn soup Y/N."
You don't say anything as you keep eating the food hastily, feeling like you are on the verge of starvation. Jean lights up a cigarette and walks towards the open window, watching the dark sky.
Somewhat of an uncomfortable silence settles in the still air. The smoke he breathes out lingers in your lungs. You finish your soup and set the tray on your nightstand.
Throwing the cigarette butt out of the window, Jean walks to the dressing table and picks up the drugs Sasha left for you. He sits back on the chair he pulled earlier and gets the needed amount of pills out of the bottles for you silently.
You follow his silence as your eyes watch his hands on act, your gaze lingering on the cut on his wrist involuntarily.
He catches your unwelcomed gaze before he rolls his sleeve down, disturbed. "Not my doing." he clears your mind out of worries, probably knowing what you're thinking.
His eyes falter and close for a moment before he takes a breath in. This clearly brings back bad memories. You get it. Every movement of his, every micro expression is far too familiar not to notice. You have reminders carved on your body too, scars you wish that you can get rid of, whatever the cost.
Nodding at his explanation as you don't want to trouble him further, you take the pills he hands out to you. His palm rests on yours involuntarily for a second, his warm touch burns your icy skin.
Placing the pills on your tounge, you swallow them with the water Jean handed to you.
He pays attention, to every little move, every gulp of your throat, every bruise on your legs. You feel his eyes all over and shiver before throwing a questioning look in his way.
He shakes his head, to himself. "What else do you need?" he asks softly. Not "Do you need anything else?", not as if you're a burden, but like he is a soldier; ready for whatever you need.
You exhale a troubled breath out, ashamed of the vulnerable state you are in. "Can you help me get to the bathroom?" you ask, voice as littleas you feel.
He nods, not finding it as odd as you did. As you let your legs off the side off the bed; toes barely touching the floor, he moves in to pick you up. You shake your head as your bad jolts away just an inch.
"I think I can walk, I feel stronger; just need an anchor."
"No." is all he says before picking you up in his arms despite your wish. You give him a confused and annoyed look.
He just shakes his head, exhausted, from dealing with your stubbornness. "Maybe tomorrow." is the only statement he lets out before he places you on top of the toilet.
"Are you good? I can ask Mika to help you." he suggests.
"No, no. I will be fine. Thanks."
"Call out if you need anything," he takes in a sharp breath. "And Y/N,"
"Yeah?"
"Don't be stupid and stubborn." he walks out right after his simple warning and closes the door behind him. You hear his zipper after he lit up another cigarette.
You're alone now, and sitting in this position, you can see your legs are far worse than what you have imagined; the bruises are not purple but almost black and there are cuts more than unwounded skin. This is why they were all up your butt about walking. The wound on your stomach wasn't that deep, and you knew it. It is your legs, the only part of your body making you useful.
You take a frustrated breath in before sliding your shorts down to pee, not being gentle whatsoever in your self-hating state.
You take care of your needs and pull your shorts up before you stand, using the sink nearby to give you stability. Dragging your legs beneath you and calling it walking, you stand in front of the sink and wash your hands.
Tilting your head upwards, you meet your face in the mirror, holding your irritated gaze back. You scoff something like a laugh in annoyance. Your already half-dead eyes looked even more dead than before, carrying heavy bags of purples under them. Your lips were chapped and cracked from dehydration. The colour was taken right off your skin as your cheekbones sank deeper into your cheeks.
Disgusting. Shadow of the girl you once were. Ghost of the girl who died on that day. And now, you are useless too; nothing but a burden. Nothing but cancer infecting them.
Your head lifted up from your feet as Jean burst in.
"What the hell Y/N? I knocked and called. Why aren't you answering?" Clearly frustrated, Jean questioned you with a raised and annoyed voice, before your eyes met.
He walked over to your side in a heartbeat. "What's wrong?" he asked, voice clear from all the anger you heard just a second ago. Placing a hand on your back, he gave you some extra support to stand up; it was a miracle your legs held you up as long as they did.
"I- Nothing. I'm sorry, didn't hear you." you explained as you shook your head to yourself.
He shook his head as well. Not disappointment; disapproval, of your apology. A rare sight for you. "Are you okay? In pain?"
"No, I'm okay." you assured quickly. "Everything is fine." You didn't meet his eyes. You could feel in every fiber of your being that he didn't buy it, but he didn't push you.
Thank you, Jean. For always seeing; and never commenting.
He placed you back into your bed after picking you up and carrying you. " Anything you need?" he asked somewhat softer than usual.
You shook your head. "I'm good. Go Jean, get some rest."
He took a deep breath in, wanting to resist. As usual, he found himself incapable of saying the words to resist. Too soft, too caring, too vulnerable. Big no's in his book.
"I'm a light sleeper. Just call if you need something."
You nod softly with a smile. "Y/N still grateful." you jab.
He shakes his head, almost hiding a smile. "Goodnight Y/N."
"Goodnight Jean." you say before he walks into the bathroom door leading to his room. You hear his bed rustling and creaking as he settles in. Satisfied, you smile to yourself and decide to kill some time.
Lighting a cigarette and picking up The Perks of Being a Wallflower from the books Annie kindly left on your nightstand, you began to read the story of Charlie, even though you have it memorised.
By the end of the fourth cigarette, which you had chainsmoked, someone knocked on your door.
"Come in." you called softly.
Mikasa and Eren walked in with bitter smiles on their faces. One cup in Eren's hand and two in Mikasa's. "Hi." you welcomed with a big smile as you set your book on the empty side of the bed.
"Well enough to hang out?" Eren asked with a smile as Mikasa sat on the chair that Jean had earlier sat. Mikasa handed you the cup. "Herbal tea, will help you feel better."
You thanked Mikasa and took a sip of the tea as Eren pulled another chair for himself. "How are you feeling, champ?"
You looked at his arm, stitched up. "Probably better than you." you said jokingly.
Mika laughed as Eren scoffed. "Mika fixed me up immediately, wouldn't even let me stay with you and others."
You smiled at Mika. "Smart girl, that could have been infected. And believe me, it was hell down there. You wouldn't want to see that."
Eren nodded as Mika questioned. "Sasha told me that Connie cried?"
You nodded softly, the memory fresh in your mind, breaking you more than physical wounds.
Eren, on the other hand, burst into laughter at your confirmation. "Pussy-whipped bald ass."
Mikasa held in a chuckle as you furrowed your brows with anger. "You're done. Evil." You exhaled and looked towards the door of your shared bathroom with Jean. "And close that door, Jean is sleeping. Your loud ass will wake him up."
"Whatever you wish, Mrs. Springer." he said before getting up and closing the door as you asked.
"Stop. He is like the purest person left on this earth. You are tainting my sensitive boy with your accusations." you argued.
Eren was about to hit a comeback when Mikasa gave him a look to shut him up and agreed with you. "You know how emotional Connie is, stop disturbing Y/N."
"Okay, okay." Eren obeyed her without a doubt. "You're right?"
Mikasa smiled. "How is it to have Kirstein as your babysitter?"
You smiled, to yourself. "He is actually a pretty decent one, considering the fact that he hates me."
Eren shook his head. "Those pills really dumbed you down, huh?"
"What?" you looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Y/N, if Jean hated you, he would have killed you himself, okay? He saved you, carried you back, and is taking care of you. I knew from the moment you sat at the dinner table that he already accepted you, whether he liked it or not. After all this, and doing these with no complaints, I would say he is on the liking side of your acceptance into the family. Our family."
The liking side of my acceptance.