The Night After the End

No Where Else To Go

When Jean opened his eyes again, he was expecting dawn light spilling onto the oak floor from his window. Instead, he was greeted by pitch blackness as dark as behind his eyelids. The empty feeling persisted. It settled between his ribs, seeping further until he couldn't distinguish where the darkness of the room ended and where his body started. Something was wrong.

Why did I wake up at this hour..? Jean waited for some sort of reason to make itself known, but nothing happened. He chalked it up to his mental state, rolling over as he tried, rather futilely, to fall back asleep.

A few suffocatingly silent seconds past, and Jean thought he head a sound. Dread gripping him, he bolted up. Nothing.

I must be imagining things. Jean began to lower himself when he heard it again. A gentle knock, seemingly coming from a door outside his bedroom.

Maybe I should ignore it Jean thought as he slipped out of bed, grabbing a lantern . It could be MPs looking to debrief and make plans going forward- he stepped into his hallway- Although, the clock says its 1:30 am- another soft knock came from the door, a bit more desperate than earlier. Who the hell is knocking at this hour anyway? His slowly began to open the front door, peering out- I should definitely ignore it-

He squinted through the dark "Armin!?"

Armin stood on his doorstep, wearing his plain clothes, which were slightly disheveled "Hey Jean."

"What're you- Gah!" A frigid gust of air blew in, cutting through Jean's thin sleep shirt. "Here- come inside." Jean ushered Armin in, who seemed to sway with the wind, stumbling across the threshold. Jean pulled the door shut behind him, silencing the howling wind. He turned to Armin, at a loss for words, and only then did he get a proper look at him. His clothes were the same ones they had worn on the trip back from Marley, and looked it to, with oil and dirt smears. His droopy eyes had trouble fixing on Jean and he swayed on his feet. Jean caught a whiff of whiskey from him.

"Armin, are you drunk?"

Armin grinned lopsidedly "No."

Narrowing his eyes, Jean pulled up an arm chair for him. "Really? You're not acting yourself." He looked at the ocean boy's blue eyes "You don't have to lie to me, you know. I won't judge you, not after everything that's happened."

Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Armin sighed "Yeah, ok, a little..."

Jean smiled, brow furrowed in amusement. Armin had never been one to hold his liquor, that's for sure. "I'll get you some water, sit down."

Armin complied as Jean went to fill a glass, keeping a constant eye on him as he curled up in the arm chair. "What's going on? Aren't you and Mikasa sharing a cabin right now?"

Armin didn't reply. The scouts were never in one place for long, but you'd be hard pressed to find Armin, Mikasa, and Ere-... Armin and Mikasa away from each other. Jean's gaze fell to the floor. This must be breaking Armin's whole world. He knew what that was like.

"Never mind. Your water."

"Thanks." Armin took it from his hand, shakily bringing it up to his lips. Jean watched in understanding as he gulped it down. It ran down his chin, dampening his collar.

"Here, let me." Armin sat still as Jean used the blanket on the chair. The soft scratch of the wool, and the tenderness of Jean's hand caused tears to prick at Armin's eyes.

Jean noticed, alarmed. He quickly sat down on the chair next to Armin, taking the cup from his hand and setting it on the coffee table. "Hey, hey, it's alright. Look, I'm not gonna judge you for anything, not after everything. I promise I understand what you're feeling." He took Armin's shaky hands in his own. "Just please tell me what's going on."