Trust ~ Jean Kirschtein x Reader/OC

CHAPTER FOURTEEN ~ Nothing Left

When we finish, I shakily stand up again, and look at Historia sullenly. Monique was covered practically from head to toe with all sorts of bandages and dressings; so much so that it took more than at least one hour, if not two hours, to get her completely cleaned up. Every scratch or cut on her was awfully bloody and filled with dust and dirt from the explosion blowing it everywhere. Her burns also progressively got more gruesome the longer we left them undressed, some of which clearly will already leave lasting scars. I feel this awful guilt from not having enough knowledge of how to treat such injuries, and as a result of my absolute incompetence, she would be left with constant reminders of this day.

I don't say anything as I move my eyes from Monique to Historia, but I think Historia sort of understands me. Her eyes tell me that she knows I'm struggling, and really distracted by my own thoughts on everything that is happening around us. After all, she was also close with Bertholdt and Reiner, so I guess she understands it too. As I continue to look into her eyes, I remember specifically that day that we saved Reiner from Annie, thinking that he was on our side, and not hers. Although we never knew that the Female Titan was Annie at the time, it still hurts to think that we saved a traitor from a traitor, and he now does this in favour. I look at Monique once more, looking somewhat peaceful even with the amount of injuries she has, before turning around and going to find my way back out of the group, when I'm met face-to-face with Connie.

"Where is Monique?" He asks desperately.

I slowly just step aside and reveal her to him. When he sees her, his face drops, and he falls to his hands and knees beside her. I walk away before I hear anything that could push me further over the edge than I already am.

The top of the wall is suddenly littered with many unconscious and injured scouts, some I know and many I don't. I break through them into the clear, walking a few paces away from everyone, and sitting alone on the wall. The horizon shines in my eyes and makes me squint as I look out to it, before I hang my head into my hands, ever so tired and drained. It is nice sitting here alone, even though I am drowning in my own head. I'm not sure how long I continue to sit here, but it's as if the concept of time escapes me completely as I start to absorb everything into me, like a sponge.

I suddenly hear slow footsteps approaching me from behind, and I snap out of my own thoughts to look at the sun beside me, which is now in a different position to what it was when I last looked at it.

"Hey," Jean's familiar voice appears again as he sits down in front of me.

I look up at him through my eyebrows and mumble a small "hi."

"Look," he begins gently, "I know I said that I would wait for you to tell me about your past, and I still will. But... I can just see how much it tears you down, and I... uhm... I really want to be here for you and help you specifically, I guess."

"If it really means that much to you, I guess I could explain some things," I sigh, swallowing down the urge to cry.

"You know I'm from Shiganshina, right?" I begin, to which he nods. "Well, where I lived was right next to the wall. And when it fell - or I guess, when Bertholdt kicked it in - the rubble crushed our house and... killed my parents."

There's an eerily prolonged silence before I continue, "I also had a younger sister, Simone. And if you couldn't guess from my screaming earlier, she also died. A titan ate her."

I keep my head down as I emotionlessly stare at the ground, deliberately missing the part where I was trapped under the rubble of my house and was too much of a coward to save my sister.

"I'm so sorry, Rosette," Jean mutters, too much in shock to give anything more.

I just make a small humming noise in response, too afraid that if I say anything more I'll have another outburst of some kind, which is the very last thing I need. Jean also doesn't say anything else; instead he just adjusts his sitting position to be more comfortable, outstretching one leg and propping the other up to support his elbow. In the silence, I can only just hear his calm, quiet breathing, which is very much different than mine. Although, when I look up at him once more, I notice his eyes first. They are filled with some indescribable fire and determination, something that I can't even begin to place. He usually does have a fire in his eyes and a certain attitude he carries with him that most people around here have seen; although most is an understatement, he's practically known for it. But this is vastly different. It seems to be fuelled by absolute anger and a thirst for revenge, but more than what I've ever seen before.