The Infirmary

Morphines a hell of a drug

A/N: I want to thank KuroiDenki for beta-Ing this chapter. They honestly made this so much better haha. This is the setup chapter, future ones will be much longer. Also, I used to be ChibiLeviAckerman, in case my old followers wanna come on over haha.

Jean's vision is blurry.

He can't see much, nor can he hear very well. Everything sounds muffled, as if he has cotton in his ears. He faintly realizes he's moving; he can feel the bumps of a carriage rolling over the bumpy dirt roads, but not much else. He tries to move his numb limbs, starting with his finger tips. He manages to wiggle them a bit but the effort makes him feel tired...what was going on?

"Legs" is the first word Jean is able to make out. The voice is familiar, but he can't for the life of him place who it belongs to. He jolts as the carriage comes to a sudden stop, jumping as he feels whatever he is lying on lift him up and out of the cart. Where was he going?

"...his entire squad, commander." Jean can just make out the muffled voice from earlier. "...only two survivors, both injured."

So he was hurt? Jean wonders, still trying to make sense of what was happening. He didn't feel hurt though? And he couldn't remember anything either. What had happened? Who was the other person that was hurt? His mind continued to wonder as he was moved from the hard platform that was used to carry him in to what he assumed was a bed.

Blinking once more, he was able to make out bright lights against a white ceiling. He could hear the voice from earlier, "we're going to have to rebreak them."

Rebreak what? Jean felt two sets of hands grab his wrists, and another push down on his chest. Two fingers coaxed his mouth open, a cloth was placed in between his teeth. Confused, Jean began to move, pulling against the hands. He felt two more pairs of hands rest softly on his legs-

White hot pain shot through Jean Kirchstien's entire being; he jerked against the human restraints, but was held firmly in place. His screams echoed off the walls as he felt the two people at the foot of his bed snapping the bones in his legs. Black spots clouded his vision as tears streamed down his face, and he desperately tried to get away from the excruciating pain coursing through him. Finally, as the pain became too much, his body had mercy and he passed out.

—

When Jean awoke the second time, everything was much clearer. He recognized the white washed walls of the survey corps infirmary almost immediately. Judging by the casts on both legs, he had been injured on the last expedition. With a grimace, Jean noticed that his right cast went up to his thigh while the left only met his knee. What had he done to break his legs like that? He didn't remember much of what happened; only flashes of titans and dead bodies littering the field came to mind.

Yawning, Jean lay flat against the pillow. He played with the IV that was dripping morphine into his system as he tried his best to remember more of what had transpired outside the walls.

"Jean?..."

Jean startled in surprise, whipping his head to the left at the sound of his name, weak on the speaker's lips. His heart almost stopped at what he was met with.

Armin Arlert lied in the bed on Jean's left, also hooked up to an IV. His blonde hair was matted, evident he had been in the infirmary for a while. His pale skin looked washed out against the white interior of the med bay. His lips were chapped, and his uniform had been replaced by a simple blue T-shirt and grey sweatpants. An open book sat in his lap. A half eaten piece of bread and an untouched bowl of soup lay on the small table to his left. Armin's snow white skin was disrupted on the right side of his face by several angry red gashes. Some were short, less than a few centimeters long, while others went from his forehead past the collar of his shirt. Many of the gashes weren't very wide, but there were a few Jean thought were easily a few inches long. The scariest, however, was the thick scar running through his right eye; instead of its usual brilliant blue the damaged eye appeared cloudy and unfocused, as if it was looking right through him.

"Armin?..." Jean answered back, coughing as his scratchy voice caught in his throat.

And then the memories came rushing back. A hoard of abnormals had surprised their wing; they were on them before anyone knew how to react. Their squad leader had just finished ordering them not to engage when he was nabbed and eaten before their eyes. Jean had grabbed his gear then, jumping into the air to try and kill a few of these titans when Armin was thrown off his horse. Jean lost sight of the blonde when another hoard of titans emerged from beyond the horizon.

The blood curdling screams of his comrades distracted Jean, and before he knew it a titan had grabbed his gear, lifting him up to its gaping mouth. In a panic, Jean had sawed through the line of his grapple, plummeting towards the ground, not being able to turn his body in time and breaking his legs.

What the hell had happened to Armin though? A sick feeling began to rise in Jean's stomach as he focused on Armin's injured eye. Something wasn't right about how dull it seemed to be compared to the left one.

Blinking the memories away, Jean continued to stare at Armin's scarred face, watching the blonde's lips move as no sound came out. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" He muttered, feeling hot. Did he have a fever?

"I asked how you were feeling." Armin repeated, cocking his head. "You've been out for a few days."

A few days? Had it really been that long? "Oh... yeah, I'm fine. Morphine's a hell of a drug." Jean joked weakly, sitting up and resting against the metal headboard of the infirmaries bed. Just sitting up seemed to take a lot out of the brunette. He felt weak.

Armin laughed quietly, the sound bringing a soft smile to Jean's face. "I'll say." Armin lazily lifted up his arm sporting the IV and set the book from his lap aside. Jean noticed Armin's right hand had been wrapped in gauze. Had his entire right half been injured?

Would it be rude to ask about his eye? Jean couldn't help but wonder to himself. Deciding to be true to his blunt nature, Jean finally started to ask, "How about you?... can you still?-"

"See? No." Armin mumbled, referring to his right eye. Jean watched as he began to fidget with the hem of the off-white hospital blanket he'd pushed to the side of the bed. "Hanji tried her best, but its too damaged. The best she could do was close the gash that ran through it."

Jean bit his lip, feeling awkward He'd answered so quickly, cut him off before he'd even finished asking the question. The brunette wondered how many times he'd been asked about his vision in the last few days. Would people ask him about his injuries as well? He surely hoped not.

The silence was thick until Armin broke it, asking if the brunette wanted him to call a nurse to bring him some dinner. Jean nodded, tapping his fingers on the metal bed rails as he tried to think of something else to say.

"I'm surprised Yeager and Mikasa aren't here." He finally said, deciding that was a good conversation starter. After all, it was strange the two weren't at his side. "I'd of figured Yeager would be in the bed with you." He tried to joke, doing his best to keep eye contact and not only focus on the scarred flesh.

Armin didn't laugh, disappointing Jean. "Oh, they were here a lot the first two days but Eren had to eventually go back to training with Hanji, and Mikasa was needed to run drills with the others."

"Oh, that makes sense." The silence returned. The nurse brought Jean the same soup and bread Armin still had lying on his bedside table. The room was quiet except for the scraping of Jean's spoon on the bowl. Jean almost wished he was still unconscious.

As the silence only got thicker, and Armin quietly frowned, Jean couldn't help but think that this was going to be one long recovery.