In Another Life (EreJean)

one

Chapter summary: Jean is interrupted by an unwelcome visitor. 

In the battle between mind and body, Jean's body is winning.

It sneaks up on him, that familiar strain in his fingertips. At first, he pushes through it. The only thing stricter than the deadline he was given is the man who imposed it. Of the reasons Jean can give Levi for not completing his task on time, he's positive My hand hurt won't cut it.

There's also his seating arrangement. The concrete staircase outside the mess hall is uncomfortable at best, but Jean likes to sketch in places he's confident he won't be interrupted. If that means dealing with a bruised tailbone for a day or two, so be it.

Besides, Jean's the one who put himself in this predicament. He's the one who approached Levi. He's the one who offered his assistance. The least he can do is not let the captain look like a fool for trusting him.

But when the pain metastasizes to his wrist, Jean's forced to drop his charcoal. He places it in the metal tin by his hip, containing the small collection of art supplies he's built over the years. He stretches his neck, tilting his chin toward the midnight sky looming over him. Stars scatter in whimsical patterns, yet all Jean sees is a reminder how little time he has to get this done. And with exhaustion taunting him more by the minute, Jean's window of opportunity is closing in.

Black smudge coats his fingers, a side effect he attributes to hard work or simply the excitement of exercising his greatest passion. It's been over two months since his charcoal touched canvas. Being an active member of the military robs most of his free time. Life as a Scout comes first, always.

Even with that, Jean scans the artwork in his lap with newfound pride.

His charcoal stained hand remains at his side. The last thing he needs is tainting this piece with smudged fingerprints. This isn't the final product. Some last minute polishing is needed. But for as harsh of a critic Jean is toward his capabilities, he knows he strikes gold this time.

It's perfectly duplicated from his memory. Light reflecting on the water. The allure of the waves. Clouds parting in celestial fashion, the sun right in the center, the most captivating sky Jean's ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

It's nothing short of a miracle, both the ocean and the fact Jean's lived long enough to confirm its existence. When he first joined the Survey Corps, he accepted he signed his own death warrant. Jean never imagined making it to sixteen. Yet here he is, a year into his Scout career and the proof of a world outside the walls resting in his lap. All the destruction he's seen, all the blood he's shed, all the friends he's lost, this is the end result.

Marco's smile flashes in his mind. If there's anyone who deserves to be alive in Jean's place and assist humanity toward a better future, it's Marco.

The ocean would've mesmerized him. A gentle backdrop for a gentle soul. Jean pictures him dipping his toes in the water, taking his time to adjust to the temperature change, then beaming at Jean to let him know it's safe to come in. Jean splashes him, because he's childish, but Marco takes it in stride because that's the kind of person he is.

Jean misses him like hell. He always will.

Studying his drawing again, his heart swells. It's as if Marco's spirit is embedded in the canvas, a feeling of hope and all things good about life grinning up at him. For as often as Marco crosses his mind (every damn day), it's never for good reason. All Jean dwells on is the fact that Marco's been gone for a year and he's yet to do anything to make him proud. To honor his memory.