Here In My Arms (Jeankasa)
Jeankasa Week Day #6: Bedroom
Summary:Â Jean stays with Mikasa after she is injured in battle.Â
Pairing:Â Jeankasa with implied one-sided Eren/Annie
Author Note: Qwerfgbnjkop I meant to make a fic all the way back on day three but whoops thatâs what application prep does to you. My first SNK fanfic so FORGIVE MEEE and enjoy! :) A little OOC drugged Mikasa.Â
"How is she?"Â Jean asks eagerly, standing back as Armin and Eren flock to her bedside.Â
"Besides the overwhelming scrapes and bruises literally covering her body?" Hanji asks, a worried look glinting behind her thick framed glasses. "Her left leg is fractured. Nearly a clean break. Sheâll be out of commission for a while, but sheâll live." Jean sucks in a breath of air, happy, for himself, that sheâll be safe for a while, but regretful that the Survey Corps has lost itâs second strongest fighter.Â
"In any situation," Hanji continues. "She shouldnât need to stay here long. After I wrap up her leg, sheâs free to go back to the barracks." Jean nods, crossing his arms over his chest. He feels the muscle under his hands. The muscle he earned trying to catch up to her.Â
"Thank you, Hanji," Jean says solemnly, watching her chest rise and fall from a distance. Now, as he wants so desperately to hold her strong hands to his lips and watch her rest peacefully, the short few meters from the bed to the doorway seem like oceans. Eren and Armin rise from the bed.Â
"Weâll be back soon, Hanji, after the bonfire," Eren promises, the worry vanishing from his emerald green eyes. How does he not see it? Jean wonders. She cares about him so much, but all he does is chase after Annie.Â
"Wait, boys. Can one of you take Ms. Ackerman back to the barracks as soon as I finish this wrap?" Hanji asks, rolling the sterile white cloth over Mikasaâs leg as she speaks.Â
"Iâll do it," Jean pipes up, still leaning across the back wall. Eren glances at him warily, still bearing his doubts about the young Kirschtein.Â
"Fine," he finally agrees when Armin begins to pull him towards the door. Jean barely catches the mention of Annieâs name as the trudge out into the darkness, leaving Jean, Hanji, and, of course, Mikasa. After a few silenced moments, Hanji steps back and dusts her hands. She motions for Jean to take the sedated Mikasa, and he lifts her, wincing as her full weight transfers into his arms.
"Careful, Jean," Hanji warns, looking him up and down. "You shouldnât be lifting heavy things, but Iâll let it slip this one time. Just get some rest after youâre done." Jean nods to the squad captain and exits out the back door. Mikasaâs eyes flicker open, and Jean, resisting the urge to stare down and decipher the exact shade of steel grey they are, instead stares ahead.Â
"Thanks." Is all she says. She feels his lean muscles, something sheâd never noticed before, as he sways her back and forth, bouncing up and down on the uneven terrain.Â
"No problem," he replies just before her eyes shut again. Jean is aware of every little inch of skin that touches him: the back of her neck against his forearm, the skin beneath her tattered pants and shirt that rest against his chest. It was a harsh battle for everyone. Lives were lost, bodies burned. While the rest of the trainees gather around the bonfire that cremates the remains of the fallen comrades, he is here, holding her: the girl of his dreams. Since Marcoâs death, Jean has barely been able to walk past the destructive ceremony.Â
They reach the girlsâ barracks, and Jean kicks the door open with his good foot. Of course, he couldnât have escaped with his fair share of injuries. A broken ankle and gash on his side, but the pain fades away with Mikasa in his arms. If only Marco was here to see me now, Jean thinks, a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips for a small moment.
"Which bed is yours?" he asks the girl in his arms. Mikasaâs eyes open again, and she glances around.Â
"In the back," she replies. "By the window on the right. Bottom bunk." The girls dormitories are arranged the same way the boys are, with several bunk beds in rows lining the walls and going down the middle of the room. He carries Mikasa to her designated bed, peeling back the covers and slipping her safely within.Â
"If thatâs all, Iâll let you rest," Jean says hesitantly. As he turns to leave, a hand on his back, gripping his shirt, stops him.
"I know if I close my eyes Iâll see Eren in the hands of that titan again. Please just⊠stay." Jean hesitates for a moment, partially because he is wondering how much of this is real Mikasa and how much is wildly  sedated Mikasa. But hey, live in the moment right? Sliding into the bed beside her, he freezes the moment his skin touches hers. This doesnât bother Mikasa, however, who wiggles her way under his arm and rests her head against his chest, dark ebony hair splaying out in all directions.Â
"Thank you⊠Jean." The last syllables come out forced as she slips into slumber. The barracks are quiet aside from her heavy breathing, a few pants thrown in every time her leg hits something under the blankets. Though it takes him a while, Jean shuts his eyes too.Â
Is this what itâs like to fall asleep beside Mikasa? If I got to spend every night like this, Iâd marry her in a heartbeat.Â
"Me too," the sleeping form besides him says softly, turning her head to nestle deeper into his chest. Jean feels his face burn, unaware he had been speaking out loud. But Mikasa is out like a light, and he even hears soft snores.Â
Mikasa Kirschstein. Has a ring to it.Â