Once In A While

Chapter 11: Distrust

Darkness had graced the night sky, a few stars shining faintly here and there. The temperature kept falling in the small cabin we used as a temporary hideout. The rest of the squad had somehow managed to fall asleep; not that they were having a good night's sleep, anyway. I laid uncomfortably in between Sasha and Mikasa, my mind lost in thought. When I finally came to terms with the fact that I would absolutely not fall asleep any time soon, I sat up and took a quick look at my surroundings; the boys were sleeping as well, Connie sprawled out on the floor in quite a peculiar -funny- way.

I slowly got up and sat down in front of the slow-burning fire; it wasn't as strong as it was a few hours ago, and it was clearly dying out. Ironically, it reminded me of the pyre that burned our comrades' lifeless bodies not that long ago, after the events of Trost. Just like back then, I was surrounded by others, but I was left alone with my thoughts.

"You should be asleep. It's not like you'll have the chance to for the days to come." A voice said lowly, and I looked at the direction it came from, just a few meters away from the campfire.

"I know...I just couldn't bring myself to." I admitted to the Captain.

"Understandable." He said as he sat down, opposite to me, and took a sip from his water bottle.

After a few moments of silence, I spoke up, voicing my inner thoughts in the heat of the moment;

"It was my father. The person I killed. Three years ago." I finally confessed the act I was most ashamed of.

He didn't flinch, and he didn't seem to be fazed either. As expected, I thought to myself. I for reasons unknown to me, proceeded to tell him what lead me to take a life; all the abuse me, my brother and most of all, my mother, were subjected to.

"So?" Was all he told me.

"So... I don't know." I muttered.

"Why'd you tell me that?" He said, quite amused this time.

"Because... Out of all of them, you'd be the one to understand, I guess. You know what it means to kill someone better than any of them, not that that's something to be proud of, is it?" I said, looking at the fire inbetween us.

"It surely isn't. So you're not going to tell him, or the other brats?" He asked, sipping his water.

"Who, Jean? No, I don't think so, not now at least. His morals are very much against murder, which was why he hesitated to pull the trigger today. Even if I explained the circumstances that lead to me killing my father, I don't think he -or anyone of them for that matter- would be able to look at me the same way...Not as if I am not a monster." I sighed.

"You don't trust yourself." He simply pointed out.

"What?" I asked, clearly confused. I was horrified; feeling as though I had been found out. How weak I really was.

Of course, he was probably only talking about my ability to come up clean about my actions- but for me, his words held a deeper meaning; I didn't trust myself. I didn't trust myself with anything.

"It wasn't as if you woke up one day and said to yourself, fuck this I'm killing my dad then making a run for it. Sure, murder is still murder, but there's no morality really. There's no black and white, every action is grey when it comes to that. Anyhow, you shouldn't regret that action. That'd be a bigger mistake than ever committing it." He finally said.

"Thank you..." I replied; words wouldn't make me feel any better, but it was a reassuring thought to know someone else's opinion on the situation.

"Whatever. Now go get that brat, Jean, and go outside to make sure no one's around. We've let our guard down for too long." He clicked his tongue and looked away.

"Yes sir." I saluted and got up quickly, dusting my pants before approaching Jean, who was sleeping in the corner next to Connie and Armin.

Crouching down to his level, I was a bit reluctant to wake him up, for he looked too serene to bother at this given time. Still, our duty is our duty, so I tapped his arm gently, waiting for a response. He stirred slightly, then shot his eyes open, looking at me after readjusting his vision.

"Oh, it's you..." He murmured, his voice husky from sleeping.

"I'm afraid so. Now, get up, we're on look out." I smiled softly, offering him a hand to get up, which he accepted, after a moment of contemplation.

We grabbed our rifles and soon went out to patrol the nearby area; it was dark, but we were still able to make out our surroundings just fine.

"So... who's the unlucky person you sent to their grave?" Said Jean in almost a whisper, and I could tell that even though his tone was humorous, it still didn't sit right with him, that I had a body count at the mere age of fifteen.

"Why, care to join him?" I joked back, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Should I be scared?" He replied back, and I could sense the smirk forming on his lips.

"No, I'm afraid no. You see, I have a strict no killing friends policy." I mindlessly said as I looked further into the territory.

"Come on, for real now, who was it?" He asked, growing all the more impatient.

"Jean, what difference does it make if I tell you? It's the same. I killed a person. That can't be undone, nor can they magically be resurrected from the grave." I explained, as I came to the conclusion that no one was nearby our hideout.

"You probably don't think of me as highly as you used to, but that's okay. I understand. And I really admire the fact that you're against killing people Jean, it should be common knowledge, that I'll admit. But as of right now, given our situation, it's either us or them. So, next time, do me a favour and fire the damned pistol. Because God knows I will not hold back if I see your fucking brains scattered on the concrete." I admitted, looking him in the eyes, then making my way back to the cabin.

"Wait!" He blurted out, grabbing my wrist before I could open the door.

"What is it, Jean?" I asked, taken aback by his actions.

"I promise I'll shoot next time..." He said, holding back words, maybe questions, but nonetheless I said, in a slight smile;

"You better." I hesitated for a moment, not sure why; perhaps I wanted to stay for a little while out there, surrounded in the dark with him, the cold weather a relief against my skin.

I looked up to the sky. It reminded me of so much, us being outside deep in the night. Those after-curfew hours we'd sneak out, Jean, Marco and I; those moments I held the closest to my heart. But just like the falling stars we'd watch, our friendship was terminated sooner than later, and darkness took over once again.

He looked at me strangely, but didn't say anything, still holding on to my wrist.

"We should go inside, it's getting colder." I said after composing myself.

"Yeah, maybe we should." He agreed, though I hoped he didn't; hoped he'd ask me to stay a little longer. But he didn't, and being weak myself to admit it, I pushed the door open.