Chapter Text
It was supposed to be simple: break the wall, get Fritz out, figure out where he was if he didn't get out on his own, retrieve the Founding Titan, get it to Marley.
No, that wasn't simple at all. It just looked extremely simple compared to how it ended up being.
Five years without being able to find the royal family paled in comparison to experiencing what the people who lived there were like during that time. Yes, people, not demons.
The first real information they got was that one of their friends was the one who ended up having the Founder. Yes, friend. That word they never thought they'd use for someone on that island. Not truly.
They had to capture him, they tried, they succeeded, they lost him, they lost people along the way, both on their side and the other, but both cases hurt.
They lost Marcel, they caused the deaths of many innocent people, they were forced to kill Marco, they had to abandon Annie, they handed Ymir over to Marley for Porco, Reiner was devoured; and Armin... Armin returned, returned to Pieck and Zeke, returned to Porco, to his grandfather, to Marley. He'd never felt so empty.
Now all his friends on the island hated him, and rightfully so. He was a monster who betrayed them all. Now the boy he loved knew the truth. It was okay; he understood the hatred they had for him because he hated himself exactly the same way.
He never imagined he'd be on his side again. However, when Eren activated the rumbling, everything changed for both sides. They'd had to work through their differences, put their grudges aside, air out everything that had happened, and move on, because they needed each other.
They all had difficulty seeing and speaking to each other appropriately, but after the night in the woods, they learned to handle it better. It's an alliance, after all, not a reconciliation. They need to work together for a common interest; they don't need to forgive each other or get along, just be a functioning unit to achieve their goal.
Well, everyone learned to handle it better, except for one couple among them.
Jean and Armin could never handle that. At the end of the day, their relationship was the most complicated of all, so it made sense.
During the port takeover, things went well; luckily, the two boys' roles didn't overlap, so there was no problem.
However, since they boarded the ship and sailed away, something had changed in the air.
No one was talking or doing anything at the moment; the soldiers were processing having to kill their comrades, the warriors were processing Magath's death. Still, Armin felt it clearly: Jean's eyes fixed on the back of his head.
He'd gone from not being able to look at him to not being able to stop looking at him. There was such intensity in his gaze that even from behind Armin felt chills.
He let some time pass, but nothing happened. He understood that if something were going to happen, it would never happen in front of the others. So, he decided to go to a secluded part of the ship where there was no one else. Without thinking too much about it, he waited to see if Jean would follow him and for... for whatever that was going to happen, because something would happen, and they couldn't stop it now.
The first thing he felt when he sensed someone else's presence in his space was a hand on his neck and a blow to his back. Jean had him cornered, and even though Armin let him, he instinctively reached for a knife.
"What will you do with that?" the brunette asks. These are the first words he's spoken to him in years.
"I don't know. It's to transform. Usually. Not now," he answers, just as neutrally.
"You can't. You'd kill everyone here, sink the ship. The whole plan goes down the drain."
"Affirmative." He turns it over and holds it by the handle. "You have it." The pressure on his neck increases, but he can still speak. "Though I suppose losing the Colossal would also screw the plan. So what will you do with this?" He looks down at the hand on his neck.
The pressure stops, though his hand stays there. The bruises it left are fading as his skin regenerates, all in an instant, so it doesn't hurt.
"Do we have the control to not kill each other just because we'd screw each other, our friends, and the world?" Jean asks.
"I don't know. It depends on how much you hate me."
"I hate you," he spits, jaw clenched.
"I know," he doesn't abandon his monotonous tone. "I have it, I have the control, because I don't want to kill you, because I don't hate you. So it's up to you if you want to kill me." The other looks at him incredulously.
"Give me one reason not to kill you. One reason why I wouldn't want to do it."
He won't make excuses, he won't beg for his life. Why? What for? It's not even like he doesn't agree with him.
He looks into his eyes, filled with anger and pain. Those beautiful eyes that used to look at him with such purity, innocence, trust, and love. Those eyes so few inches from his own that they steal his soul.
"I can't. That's the thing, isn't it? We destroyed your walls, you destroyed my home. We killed Marco, you killed Reiner. We went to war, many on both sides died, people with weapons, civilians. It's all the same. We have every reason in the world to kill each other. You don't have one reason not to kill me. So do it, screw the plan if you can't avoid it. Fuck the victims of the rumbling. I'm sick of trying to fix the mistakes of our ancestors, of trying to save the world, of killing slaves to this war."
"Killing you wouldn't make me remain a slave to this war." But he knows he's completely wrong.
"Well, I would be if I did. Isn't that how it all began? Someone killed someone else, then someone else stooped to the first person's level and avenged them by killing too. And it went on and on. More conquests, more torture, more slavery, more death. The circle repeats and never ends. I don't claim to be better. Maybe stopping the rumbling is better, maybe not because of all the people we kill anyway to do it. Maybe we're already repeating everything while we think we're saving it, aren't we? I don't know, but I'm tired of not knowing. I'm tired of still being a slave to this war. I don't want to do anything for it anymore. Good or bad. If such things still exist. Anyway, no one ever wins."
"... Why do we keep repeating the circle?" he asks suddenly. Finally abandoning his harsh tone, he lets the pain sink in and his eyes drop to the ground. "Can't we help it? All we're doing is saving the world from the rumbling, and even that's continuing the circle."
"I don't think it's avoidable. Nothing can stop the circle of hatred. Even if only two humans remained on the face of the Earth, there would never be complete peace."
"Today I infiltrated my companions, I acted and made them trust me while I betrayed them, killing them the moment they discovered me ending up in my path... I did what you did to Marco." His eyes fill with tears.
Of course, only something like that could have gotten him to talk and confront him.
"I hate you, I hate you so much. I want to punch you, I want to suffocate you, I want to plunge that knife into your heart. You pretended, you betrayed me, you killed my people, you murdered my best friend... And yet I can't judge you," he sobs, "because I understand you, because I'm the same, because I just did the same thing."
Armin's heart begins to feel again for the first time in a long time. Jean causes one of the many cracks in his heart to widen, enough to give him a pang of pain.
"Everything we do is for our countries, out of spite, revenge," the brunette continues. "We lower ourselves, we continue the circle, then we stuff our throats with hypocrisy to say we hate the other for their actions, that we act to stop the cruelty they commit, that we want peace... And all for what? Nobody wins," he repeats. "People have tried to satisfy themselves or resolve things the way I want to for two millennia, and it hasn't worked.
""Why do I try to convince myself that it won't be the same with me? Why try to do better if I just keep repeating the circle, leaving everything the same? The others were able to understand each other and move on. Because of this, because of them. We're no longer enemies, we have nothing more to fight about than the resentment of the past, as it has been for millennia. We only have something to unite us, something that is for the best. A greater good that can be achieved if we leave resentment and revenge behind. It seems like the way, or at least the best in this shitty world, b-but you..."
"If you hate me, you hate me, Jean." His voice sounds more understanding, warmer. "The pain can't be erased just like that, just because it's the best thing to do. You can't forgive me or forget everything just because you want to. What I did to you is horrible; you have the right to feel the worst of the worst toward me... Feelings can't be changed like that." And finally, his voice breaks, his eyes fill with tears.
"And that's exactly it... Feelings can't be changed like that." He raises his gaze and looks at him again, amidst both of their tears. "That's why I can't stop loving you."
"Jean..."
"I hated you so much. I tried to forget, I tried not to care because who would care about a traitor's lies? Who would a mere act mean that much to? I tried, I tried. I tried to taint all the years of good memories with that poison I felt after you betrayed us. I couldn't. It felt so real, it felt so different from the person who betrayed me. It was what mattered most to me even though I tried to lie to myself about it.
""It couldn't not be what affected me the most. It was everything, all the time, these four years. That's why it hurt so much, because I loved you too much. That was all I could think about, it was all that mattered to me because it defied every conception I have of the world, and it's been killing me. I could only live in the confusion that one person could be both at once. I didn't understand it, and it made my blood boil, it broke my heart... But I understand today, today that I pretended and betrayed my comrades and friends. It's one and the same person... All good things are real... So, I love you," he whispers.
His hand falls and rests on the blond's chest. His gaze follows his.
"I don't just hate you. The real you. I didn't love a fake version, a lying spy. I didn't hate a ruthless traitor and murderer. It's not the past. I love and hate the real you. The only difference is that... I hate you for things I can't hate, because even though they hurt, they were what you had to do, just like I had, and I understand. So the hate is just a residual effect for now. It will die down, and then all I'll be left with is the pain... And believe me, I know that love will conquer the pain. No, in fact, it's the only thing that heals it.
""So even I-I think it's... what I should try. But since I'm still at my worst, all of it brings me confusion, pain, and anger. Which is probably pointless because we'll surely die in a few hours, but if we didn't, then I'd come back to you. But also, if we die, if we only have a few hours left, I don't want to spend them feeling this, feeling all of this for you... without being able to experience again how I truly feel for you... And all of it is already killing me."
He moves even closer to him, which seemed impossible in itself. Their bodies are pressed together, their noses touching, their eyes lost in each other's, and their lips could merge at any moment.
"Then... Then..." he whispers, his body trembling. "I want to kiss you," he admits. "I want to kiss you and not let go until we kill ourselves in the rumbling, because there's no way we're getting out of this, and if I'm going to die... I want to die with you," he confesses, so softly that he can barely be heard.
"Don't do it," he blurts out, even though it tears a piece of himself out of him. "Don't do it," he repeats, in a whisper, crying. "It's not you, it's someone about to die. Someone lost and desperate. You know I don't deserve forgiveness or love. Don't let yourself get carried away, don't do that to yourself."
"Even at the verge of death, I am me, and you are you. And I know better than anyone who you are, and now I know better than anyone who I am... I know perfectly well what I feel and what I do, what I want. What I want is you."
The blond's heart breaks a little more.
"And what do you want, Armin?" And just to hear his name from his lips, from his voice, his true voice, the warm one so full of love.
"I love you," he admits immediately, letting more tears fall.
Jean takes him by the waist and immediately puts his mouth with his, melting them in a kiss and letting their bodies become one.
Armin clings to that kiss like he's never clung to anything before. He wraps his arms around the shoulders of the man he loves and doesn't let him go.
They both cry and merge in that warmth and intense sensation they could only achieve together. Desperate to experience the best thing they've ever had in their lives again, something they thought they'd lost forever and could never have again.
They love each other, they love each other desperately.
And they missed each other, they missed each other so much. Now they're unable to let go again as their hearts merge and become one.
Because they could die right now and it would be perfect, because they can't imagine a better ending than leaving this world together.
Either way, they'll both go to hell forever. Maybe there they'll have the forever that life robbed them of.
Words: 2575