Chapter Text
The night air held a chill as footsteps echoed quietly across the damp and slippery cobblestones. You could barely see your hand in front of you, but you knew the way so well you could've walked it completely blind. The inky silhouette of the building soon came into view, like a sentry standing guard. Slowing your pace, you fluidly drew out your dagger and slipped the edge of the blade into a nearby window. After a few moments of blind, desperate fumbling, the cold metal of the dagger soundlessly undid the latch on the inside. Taking a deep, slow breath you inched the window open, praying it wouldn’t make a sound. When the gap was wide enough, you gathered your cloak tightly around you and slipped inside. After a cautious glance around, you quietly shut the window and redid the latch so the night guard wouldn’t go snooping.
Once inside, you quickly brushed yourself off and readjusted your cloak. Even though you were breaking the law, you wanted to do it with some dignity. Cocking your ear toward the direction you needed to go, you listened intently for signs of activity, the racing beat of your heart almost deafening to your ears. Once satisfied the corridors were empty, you set off at a brisk, silent pace, ready to be done with your task. Each corridor held new anxiety. The next one just as empty and foreboding as the last and not far off from the gaping maws of the titans that terrorized you from sleep. No, the only company one would find in this building at this time of night were the rats and roaches set to the same task as you now that the humans who roamed these halls were safely asleep in their beds. The night was a time for unseemly acts-- and dangerous ones. Once you arrived at the ancient oak door, crumbling near the hinges after so many years of use, you hesitated making sure you were alone. The inhabitants of this building had a rather annoying skill set, the kind of people who were good at just about anything. Meaning getting caught meant game over -- and not just for you. During the past month, you'd been forced to break in three other times and this night was even more urgent. You couldn’t risk getting caught now. You were desperate.
Clammy, shaking hands found the familiar cool steel of the door handle and silently pushed it open. Through the gloom of the cellar, you could see stacks of grain, bread, and other various foodstuffs meant to be used up throughout the coming winter. A small sigh escaped your lips, a breath you hadn't know you'd been holding. The pantry was a marvel, honestly. So many mouths to feed in the poorer sections of the village and yet, the Scouts never seemed to be hurting for food. Anger gripped you then. Cold and absolute like the sensation of an unexpected icy plunge. "Sure, have all the food you want but you have to die for it," you muttered, just barely above a whisper. Pain. You looked down, seeing the whites of your knuckles tightly balled into fists at your side. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Peace. The past can't haunt you if you don't let it. Focus. Working quickly inside, you silently stuffed supplies into your worn satchel until it bulged, gluttonous and content. Once finished, you inspected the floor and shelves closely, making sure you didn’t leave behind any evidence of your visit. Hefting the door open a notch, you listened for the night patrolmen. Silence. Quietly, you slipped out the door and eased it shut behind you, then crept through the sleeping building back to the window.
Making quick work of the latch, you began to slide the window up. “You know, you could’ve just asked,” came a voice from the darkness. You froze, hands on the window sill. Damn it! you cursed yourself. Gritting your teeth, you slowly inched your hand toward the sheathed dagger. No, you thought. Don’t be stupid. You can’t fight a Scout with a dagger and win, you fool. “You gonna say something?” the voice asked in a tone dripping with nonchalance. Whoever this was, he was enjoying himself and it infuriated you. Swallowing your frustration, you straightened your back, gathered your cloak around you, and swung one leg over the window sill. If he wanted to hurt me, he would’ve done it already, the arrogant prick. Or at least I hope, you thought.
“Hey! Stop!” The confidence in the voice faltered this time. “I can’t just let you go. You’re stealing from the military!” The man, whoever he was, stepped forward from the shadows behind you but you didn’t turn around to face him. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves. “Then come with me,” you said in a flat tone and swung your other leg outside the window before you could give yourself time to second guess your decision. Setting off at a brisk pace, you refused to look behind you but the sound of someone scrambling out of the window indicated you were being pursued. Gods, I hope I'm not making a mistake, you thought as you tried to quiet the trembling in your bones.
“Wait! Stop!” A firm grip encircled your arm and swung you around, causing your hood to fall back and your heart to jump into your throat. The dim light from the moon faintly illuminated the features of the Scout who caught you. He's tall, really tall, you thought. He had sandy hair and golden eyes and wore a stern expression on his face. He seemed to be about the same age as you. That’s good, you thought. Maybe I can reason with him. The Scout peered at you curiously, but he didn’t seem angry. You gently tugged the arm he was holding and after some hesitation, he released his grip. Panic began to slowly loosen it's grip. You smoothed your sleeve and met his gaze, refusing to look away. His brow was furrowed and he wore an unconvincing frown. “Explain yourself,” the Scout said in his best bravado, pointing to the overstuffed bag of food dangling from your shoulder. You flipped your hood back over your face to cover the smile that crept across your lips. Oh, yes, you thought. I can definitely convince him. You readjusted your cloak and turned away from him. “It’s better if I show you, soldier. Follow me. It’s not far, just a couple blocks away.”
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The walk back home was silent and uncomfortable. Neither you nor the Scout uttered a word in the darkness and the tension made your skin itch. The hand securing the stolen goods onto your shoulder stayed firmly on the bag's strap, almost as if it were cast in cement. He can't take this food from, you thought through clenched teeth. You were beginning to lose your nerve. What if bringing him here is a terrible idea? You thought miserably. No, I didn’t have a choice. I was caught red handed stealing from the military. Either he lets me go or he arrests me and it's the end of everything....
As you approached a dim house, the sounds of raucous young laughter pulled you from your thoughts. It wasn't so much of a house really, more of a run down inn that fell into disrepair around the time Wall Maria fell. The smile returned to your lips as you slipped a key into the door and turned the knob. It wasn't much, true, but it was home. And the Scout wouldn't have come this far if he intended to arrest you, right? Hopefully. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and with it, your hope that today's Scouts had some humanity. “YOU'RE BACK!” screamed a young voice and several others joined in the cacophony of excitement as you opened the door. The two of you were greeted by a chorus of whoops and exclamations from a small group of raggedy children by the dying hearth. You turned to shut the door and saw the Scout wavering in front of the threshold. “Are you coming in or not?” you asked, irritation creeping into your voice. It was cold and you were tired. Panic and anxiety exhaust a person and he was dragging things out more than you liked. After a few moments, he adopted his 'macho man' persona from earlier, gingerly stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The response you greeted him with was somewhere between a grin and a grimace but he didn't seem to notice either way.
The old house smelled faintly of antiseptic and dried herbs. Neatly labeled glass bottles lined the shelves around the main room and plants hung drying from the ceiling. To the right was a large wooden table and a hearth with ragged couches and cushions scattered about. The left side of the room held various medical supplies and a modest kitchen. A dark hallway at the back of the room led to the rest of the house. You let your shoulders relax a little bit. This is good, you thought. Time to put the ball in his hands.
“(Name)!” one of the children said incredulously, “WHO is that!?” they pointed at the Scout. You glanced sideways at the man then walked over to the young boy who had spoken. “Who does it look like, Ben?” you replied gently, ruffling his hair, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. A fleeting look of concentration flashed across Ben’s face then he served a toothless grin. “He’s a Scout!” Ben said excitedly, pointing to the wing insignia on the man’s cape. “That’s right, Ben,” you nodded supportively, looking back toward the Scout who stood dumbfounded by the door, “and he’s going to have dinner with us. Why don’t you all keep him company while I start getting things ready?” Ben flashed another grin and shyly scampered over to the Scout. The other children by the hearth were shy but quick to follow Ben's lead at the opportunity of a new playmate.
“What’s your name?” a little girl asked in a rather demanding tone, peering up at the Scout with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Uh, Jean.” he replied with a meek chuckle. “Well, Jean--” the little girl began, but you cut her off with a loud and abrupt clearing of your throat. “Well, Mister Jean,” the girl began again, her ears red in embarrassment, “my name is Nelly and I want to hear a story.” Nelly grabbed Jean’s hand and began tugging him toward one of the couches by the hearth, her high pigtails dancing with as much excitement as her tiny frame. The rest of the children buzzed about his nervous figure, excitedly talking over each other to get some face time with the interesting new guest. “(Name) NEVER brings anyone home who isn’t sick!” one of them said to Jean excitedly as Nelly forced him to sit on the couch next to her. “I’ve never even talked to a Scout before!” another one piped up, “only seem ‘em from the crowd!” You watched in amusement as the children gathered around Jean like moths to a shiny, new flame. Now that it wasn’t so dark, you could see him more clearly. He’s handsome, you thought absently, then blushed, shook your head, and returned to chopping vegetables. He’s a Scout! you argued with yourself silently. Don’t go putting foolish notions into your head!
You scooped up the vegetables you had been preparing and added them to a boiling cauldron of soup. “Alright kids, dinner’s almost ready. You know the drill,” you turned to look at them with your hands on your hips. “No clean hands, no food. Off you go!” After a healthy bout of complaining, the children scampered off down the hallway to wash their hands. You poured two cups of tea, brought one over to Jean and sat down. He thanked you quietly and stared into his mug. You eyed him for a few moments before saying, “does this explain myself enough?”
Jean’s eyes slowly trailed up to meet yours and he nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Are they… all yours?” he asked hesitantly. You laughed heartily. “Gods, no,” you said between giggles. “I do what I can to heal the sick but sometimes they don’t recover. These kids are either orphans or have parents who can’t take care of them for one reason or another.” The children began bouncing back into the room and before they could ambush Jean again, you rose and handed them each a bowl.
Dinner was eaten with gusto and now that Jean had become more comfortable, he started to relax back into the cocky scout you had met earlier. He answered the eager questions directed at him with ease and left the children wanting to know more. I’ve got him, you thought as you watched Jean thumb wrestle one of the older boys. You smiled unknowingly. I’m glad I brought him back. The kids needed a bit of cheer. It’s going to be a rough winter.
“Okay kiddos,” you clapped your hands over the clamor. “It’s time to go to bed. Say goodbye to Mr. Jean.” Vehement protests and even some angry tears were let out in response. Jean grinned at you and you fought back the urge to smile back. Instead, you kept your expression stern and arched an eyebrow at the sleepy faces around you. Reluctantly, the children began issuing their goodbyes to Jean. “You’re gonna come back and visit again, right Mr. Jean?” Nelly asked excitedly, hanging onto his shoulder. “Yeah!” another girl chimed in. “We have to hear more about Captain Levi!” A pitiful chorus of “please’s” surrounded the Scout and he let out a deep sigh. “Well,” Jean began, appearing to thoughtfully rub his chin. “I'm incredibly busy with top secret missions…” he trailed off. The instant chorus of pleading swept over the table again in full force and much to your amusement, Jean seemed love it. “Well, okay then,” Jean said, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair, wearing an ear splitting grin. “I suppose I can stop by from time to time to tell my fans about my heroic stories.” You snorted and rolled your eyes but a stubborn smile tugged at the corner of your lips.
“Alright now, off to bed!” you shooed the children away down the hall before they could trick you into staying up any later. You let out a sigh of relief when their bedroom door shut and absently tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Jean chuckled. “Well, (Name),” he began, putting emphasis on your name. “I gotta hand it to ya, that’s a lot to put up with right there.” You smiled tiredly as you approached the table and began to clear the dishes away. “Tell me about it,” you replied. “So, do they all sleep in one bed?” Jean asked curiously as he began to help you gather bowls and spoons. “No, it’s a room full of bunks. This was my mother's apothecary. We kept the room for patients who were too sick to return home and it’s sure come in handy,” you said wistfully as you bustled about with full arms.
You dumped the pile of dishes into the soapy water basin and began to scrub them. Jean's presence filled the air behind you. “I’ll wash, you dry,” you said and tossed a rag behind you without looking. “Ack!” he said surprised, “You could’ve at least warned me!” Jean moved next to you, picked up a bowl and began to dry it. You were suddenly aware of how close he was and you blushed. Between dealing with sick patients during the day and taking care of the kids at night, you didn’t really have time in your life to chase after men. In fact, your addled mind couldn't even place the last time you were this close to someone who wasn't ailing for some reason or another. It air felt charged, full of some unknown emotion -- or opportunity?
“So, why didn’t you just ask?” Jean said, smirking. “What?” you responded, only half listening and confused. “Why didn’t you just ask an officer at the barracks if you could have some of our rations?” Jean elaborated. “You make it sound like it’s easy!” You said, frowning. “The military doesn’t exactly have a great track record of kindness. Plus, do you think someone would’ve believed me if I said I had seven kids to feed?” You turned to look him in the eye defiantly. Jean laughed and took a dripping bowl from your hand, brushing your fingers. You let out a frustrated sigh and dried your hands on your apron. "Plus, if I had known it was that easy, do you think I'd have gone to all that trouble in the first place?"
“Well,” Jean said as he put down his towel and turned to face you, leaning his body against the counter to match your height. “Next time, just find me and ask.” He tucked back a loose lock of hair that had fallen in front of your face and gave you a sly wink. His smile widened into an ear splitting grin as you flushed scarlet. “And,” he continued, pulling himself away from the counter and stretching like an alley cat. “Try to come by during the day, that way Captain Levi doesn’t put anyone else on pantry guard duty all night. I could use some sleep for a change instead of chasing food-stealing ghosts.” You smiled at that. “I’ll see what I can do,” you shot back as you reached into the sink and unstopped the water plug. The Scout, Jean, seemed satisfied with the answer and soon his eyes drifted to the warped wooden door of the threshold. "Speaking of sleep," Jean said quietly, his eyes still on the door. "I guess we should both get some since we've got a load of kids to look after in the morning." Your brows shot up in question at that but Jean didn't elaborate further. “Goodnight, soldier.” You said to Jean’s back as you followed him to the door and held it open. “Goodnight, nurse.” Jean said with a smirk as he stepped out of the house and into the inky black shadows of the late evening.