"Thank fuck we have the day off. Evaluation killed me. I can't even feel my legs."

Armin smiled sympathetically at Jean from beside him.

"Yeah. It wasn't fun, that's for sure."

Jean arched his back, stretching his legs out one by one as he leaned up against the low fence post. It was still decently early, the morning light grey and overcast, and the two were standing outside the back of Headquarters, next to the kitchen. They were both in casual attire- plain shirts and stiff breeches rather than their uniforms.

"You'd think they'd leave us to our own devices," he said, shooting a venomous glare at the stack of crates piled up on a wagon a little way off. "But no, apparently 'day off' means 'hey, can you unpack these deliveries for us? We're too lazy, thanks.' Assholes."

Armin cast a glance at the wagon, shifting the crate he held in his arms into a better position before crossing the short distance across the courtyard to the outside of the open kitchen doors, placing it carefully on the already-accumulated stack before making his way back to where Jean was standing.

"They're probably busy," he said impassively. He went to retrieve another crate from the wagon, laying a hand over it thoughtfully for a moment. "The higher ups have been in somewhat of an uproar since...well, you know."

"Since Mikasa and Eren," Jean's lip curled into a sneer instinctively. His hands curled into fists against the wooden post of the fence. "They're still on your mind?"

Armin hesitated. "Well...yeah. Me and everyone else in the regiment."

Jean shook his head disparagingly. "I won't lie, we've all been thinking about it. I'm still pissed Eren had the audacity to take advantage of her like that."

"I don't think it was like that. Everyone knows how Mikasa feels about Eren. Neither of them are solely to blame- they're both at fault."

"No disrespect Armin, but I wouldn't expect someone as loyal to Eren like yourself to understand what I'm getting at." He brought his fist down to his side in one sharp movement, striking the fence behind him in an uncoordinated motion that was probably harder than he intended. "You think I don't get why he screwed her? It's not hard to see why- uh, I mean, you know." He cleared his throat hurriedly. "But it's so unthinkably stupid to have actually done it...ugh, he's such a dick."

Armin was quiet for a short while as Jean passed a hand through his hair in breathing out a frustrated sigh of disdain. He hadn't approved of what Eren and Mikasa had done right from day one. It was- just as Jean had said- ridiculously reckless, and the worst possible consequence was now their grim reality. It wasn't easy news for any of the people around them to digest- let alone how Eren and Mikasa must be feeling. He couldn't stop thinking about how ghostly white Eren's face had been when he'd trudged back to join him during evaluation, the court summons clenched in his fist. Armin was freaked out of his mind thinking about what the higher ups would do to his friends. He folded his arms and, gripping each elbow tightly, his heart thudding sourly. Even he, the most logical, strategic thinker of them all, couldn't think of a redemption that would get them out of this.

"OK, random thought. Even if by some wretched miracle that Eren and Mikasa get off this scot-free," Jean paused as he straightened up from where he was leaning against the fence to join Armin by the stationary wagon. He hefted the last crate of food supplies into his arms, adjusting his grip accordingly with eyes downcast at it in a scowl. "I can't see either of them being halfway decent parents."

"They're not that bad..." Armin's words trailed off before they had scarcely left his mouth. That was another thing. Even if, like Jean said, fate was merciful enough to spare them from the Military Police's wrath, there was going to be a child. And that child would need raising. The thought of it made Armin's stomach lurch. No matter how you looked at it, he, at some point, was going to lose his two closest friends. Him- the one out of the three of them least likely to be of any salvation to humanity- would be stuck on the front lines whilst Eren and Mikasa were trapped within the walls they so desperately wanted to break free from. Well, Mikasa would be at least. And of course, this was all providing they actually returned from their court summons at all...

Jean snorted derisively, striding away from Armin and dropped the crate on the ground next to the others by the kitchen door carelessly. It clattered to the ground, it's contents rumbling from within. "Come on, Armin, you're far from stupid, so use your head. This is Eren and Mikasa we're talking about. Eren's far too focused on himself to be any good as a dad. He still acts like a kid himself half the time. If it weren't for Mikasa...well, she hardly strikes me as the motherly type."

"Have you seen how she treats Eren?"

"As much as he acts like it, though, Eren's not a toddler. And she's a soldier, not a parent. They both are."

"I think they'd do all alright," Armin said softly, laying down his own crate next to Jean's on the ground far more reverently.

"Dammit, Armin, that's not what I'm getting at," Jean snapped. His open palm slammed against the top of the stack of crates which wobbled alarmingly in response, a resounding slap juddering through them. "They're leaving the Survey Corps one way or another, right? Whether it be at the hands of the MP or if they're granted parental leave or whatever- they won't be coming back. That's the plan to retake Wall Maria up in God damn flames right there. Without Eren...this whole regiment is worth fuck all. We'd just end up as titan fodder, like all the ones before us, because humanity's last shitty hope is stuck inside the walls playing house. Agh, this is pissing me off," He reached upwards and seized a fistful of his hair in frustration, his teeth bared in a grimace. "The hell are they playing at? The hell was going through their minds? They'd be the world's shittest parents and you know it,"

Armin hesitated. As much as his ever-loyal conscience screamed at him to defend his friends against Jean's misdirected wrath, he couldn't get the words out. Much of what Jean was saying were things Armin had been internalizing too, just hadn't had the courage nor want to vocalize. Now the fears were out- everything was spread over the table in an uninviting banquet that tempted nothing but grim, stale reality. He had his doubts. He'd had them from the very beginning. But now the implications of everything had fully dawned upon them, he was truly, truly frightened.

No doubt Jean was freaking out at losing Eren because he was fearing for his own life. Just as he'd said, without Eren's titan abilities, the excursion to Wall Maria would be put on permanent hold and Survey Corps life would return to what it had been for the past God knows how many years of excessive fatalities and futile suicide missions. Now that he and the others were already members, there was no backing out now. They had no choice but to serve until they were killed. Which, when looking at the bleak state of affairs, wouldn't be in the too distant future.

They were interrupted by resounding footsteps on the flagstone floor from within the kitchen. The two of them both turned to see Sasha and Connie appear in the open doorway, evidently returning from organising the pantry in anticipation for the new food delivery. They both eyed the stack of two dozen crates spilling over the grass apprehensively.

"Woah," Connie's gaze narrowed. "Is that all food rations? We don't usually get this much, do we?"

Jean shrugged impassively. "I didn't know we were expecting anything other than food deliveries today."

"They just dump everything on the one cart, it's up to us to organise it." Sasha said, stepping out from the kitchen doorway and walking towards the nearest crate, crouching down to its level. She leaned forwards and inhaled deeply. "This one's cleaning stuff."

"You're smelling them?" Jean wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Oooh, this one's food," she grinned as she sniffed another, seizing hold of it quickly and lifting it into her arms. "Yes please!"

"Oh great, so now we have to sort through them all too. Geez, you guys, this is part of your job you know. Now we're going to have to take all the rest of them over to the maintenance shed." Connie muttered darkly.

"You shut your mouth," Jean snapped. "Armin and I've been stuck with lugging these heavy-ass things around whilst you've been dicking around inside. Quit complaining and do your share."

"We were told to just sort out the food deliveries so..." Sasha was on her second crate, having taken the first inside the kitchen, and just emerged to take another one. She looked vaguely worried about having to forsake being in such close proximity to food to take the rest of the deliveries to the other side of HQ.

Armin knelt on the grass besides her, pulling a crate towards him and silently easing the top of the crate upwards, straining against the nails pinning it down. The acrid stench of the machine oil they used on their maneuver gear filled his nostrils.

"Yeah, and God knows why. You're likely to eat your way through half of it before anyone else gets a chance."

"Jean, don't be an ass." Connie said off-handedly, falling to his knees and prying the lid off the nearest box to peek at the contents. "This one's cleaning stuff too. Look, we're going to sort out the pantry, as per our orders, right? It's up to you and Armin to take the rest where they belong."

Jean scowled. "We've been busting our balls doing all the physical stuff- after evaluation and all- and all you've got to do is one level up from slacking off?"

Connie gave him a sarcastic look. "Reiner's the only one who's strong enough to get through all of these-" He gestured at the crates. "-without complaining, but he's cleaning the barracks with Bertolt. So just get on with it. Here," he nudged a crate with his foot towards Jean which rattled, indicating its contents. "These can all go back. That'll be spare gas tanks."

"I don't get why you're getting all uppity to be honest." Sasha said cheerfully, depositing the food crate onto the kitchen step before dropping down to the ground again, beaming at them. "It's not exactly a hard job."

"Says you,"

"Ugh, you're being so petty today," Connie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This whole thing would be so much less of a pain if Mikasa was here..."

It took a split second for him to realise what he'd said before he froze instinctively, eyes snapping open as he lowered his hand awkwardly.

A heavy weight descended upon all of them, their hearts plummeting to the ground as uneasy glances were shared from one set of eyes to another.

Armin didn't look up. He bit his lower lip, the tang of sore flesh spreading over his tongue as he stared pointedly at the crate resting against his knees, not really seeing so much as avoiding his comrade's gazes.

"So they're on your mind too, huh," There was no trace of animosity in Jean's voice as he spoke, his tone flat and thin.

Sasha and Connie glanced at each other.

"I think they're on everyone's mind," Sasha said testily.

"Yeah, Armin said the same thing earlier." Jean sighed, begrudgingly dropping to his knees and dragging a crate towards him. His fingers traced its sharp edges without opening it. Evidently, he wasn't particularly focused either. "So, what do you think? Do you think they can get out of this one alive?"

"What do you mean?"

"Doesn't matter. God, you're dense, Connie,"

"Hey!"

"Armin, you alright? You're awful quiet."

"Hm...?" Armin glanced up at long last to see Sasha peering at him worriedly. "Y...yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're looking kind of pale."

"Armin's always pale."

Sasha let down the crate she had been about to lift, dusting her hands down on her skirt before squatting down besides him, her elbows rested on her lap as she continued to survey him earnestly.

Armin brushed the hair out of his face and tried his best to muster something resembling a grin. "I'm fine, honestly."

Sasha didn't look convinced. She stuck her lower lip out childishly, before extending her arm and jabbing him in the forehead which her pointer finger. Armin wobbled, caught off-balance by his unevenly spread weight and toppled over into the grass.

"Armin, it's OK to be worried, you know. We all are."

Jean snorted.

"But Eren and Mikasa are strong enough to do this. They're both brave people. They're going to be fine, I'm sure. Besides, with the higher ups' support, they're laughing. All will be fine, and I can promise that by tomorrow everyone will be back and all will be fine. Besides, they've been through worse situations, right?"

Armin hesitated. "I...guess." He said slowly. "But if by 'worse situations' you mean the Battle for Trost, I don't really see how you can draw a comparison. Sure, they were risking their lives fighting titans...but..." his face fell. "There's method to fighting titans. With the right training, anyone can do it, even me. But this time- well, fighting skills aren't going to save them- or..." Armin swallowed painfully. "Or their child."

Connie sighed from across the yard and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Speaking of which, if and when they do come back I can't see them as parents. Mikasa seems too...I don't know, is cold the right word? She doesn't seem particularly motherly to me."

"My thoughts exactly." Jean said grimly, lowering himself down and sitting on the ground adjacent to Armin. He spread his legs out over the grass, leaning back on his hands as he tipped his head back to look into the grey clouds swelling in the sky. A singular break in the cloud cover was visible a little way off towards the horizon, a sliver of blue with a solitary ray of sun filtering past it. "No matter how you look at it, if they're in trouble or not, our time in the Survey Corps is going to be short lived. What a joke."

"I don't think they'd be bad parents," Sasha interjected, shooting both Connie and Jean disapproving looks. "Don't you think it's kind of nice, in a way? They fell in love with each other- that's- that's something precious in itself right? I mean, who cares if what they did was 'sinful', or whatever. It's...a miracle to find love in this world, rather than hate."

"That's a lovely sentiment you've got there, Sasha," Jean remarked dryly, no trace of empathy palpable. "But as Eren said yesterday, love isn't going to save their asses."

Sasha fell quiet. She followed Jean's gaze at the distant break in the clouds, lingering thoughtfully on the solitary ray piercing the gloom.

Armin swallowed painfully, eyes darting from one downcast face to another. Everything seemed so grim. The premise of losing their comrades- no, their friends- was the only realistic outcome present in all of their minds. It was heartbreaking. The thought of never seeing Eren or Mikasa again made him physically wince as if he were wounded. Jean and Connie were right- they weren't ready to be parents. They were both so focused on their own goals and motives that there was no room for something to care for and constantly be around. Having to forsake his dream to leave the walls would crush Eren, and Mikasa would feel guilty because she'd blame herself for him giving up his goal...and without Eren, humanity could never win.

A gaping hole in Armin's heart ached as he let his hands fall limply into his lap, grief swelling within him.

"It's weird, isn't it?" He said quietly. "How bringing a life into this world is more sinful than taking one."

Jean sneered. "At least for those two it is."

"Do you think they'll have it?" Sasha asked. Her voice was tentative as she eyed Armin uneasily, her gaze darting to Jean and Connie in turn. "The baby. Do you think they'll keep it?"

Jean shook his head. "I'd like to say knowing Mikasa, then no. But then again, I thought I knew the two of them well enough to assume they didn't see each other that way."

"What way?"

"You're so slow, Connie," Jean said derisively. "I didn't think they'd ever like each other more than...you know, brother and sister. They never seemed...compatible."

"Oh, I get it," Connie's mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. "You're jealous, aren't you, Jean?"

Jean looked up, a frown darkening his expression. "The hell? You think I'm jealous of getting shipped off to the interior for some crusty old dickbag to decide whether I live or die?"

Connie snorted. "No, that's not what I meant. You're jealous of Eren, right? Because he got to sleep with Mikasa?"

Armin glanced up from his lap to see Jean flush a dark hue of red as he sat up abruptly, hands curling into fists on the grass.

"Huh?!"

"Yeah, Eren said something about it yesterday, right?" Connie pulled a mockingly thoughtful face, tapping his chin with his index finger. " 'You've always had a colossal crush on Mikasa', was that it?"

"Screw off pipsqueak!" Jean retorted furiously. He snatched a small, misshapen pebble off the ground and hurled it at Connie, who was dodged as it struck the wall of the kitchen behind them and fell harmlessly to the ground. "That bastard was just trying to rile me up, he didn't know what he was talking about!"

"Oh really? Sure, sure. Eren just likes to pull assumptions from thin air, got it."

"I mean it!"

"You sure?" A wicked glint had lit up Sasha's eye as she scooted forwards, past Armin and leaned towards Jean so she was on all fours. "So you're telling me if Mikasa did thiiiiis..." she reached out and cupped the side of Jean's face. He initially flinched but before he could brush her off, she continued. "Or got close likethiiiis..." Sasha leaned towards him, inclining her head so her face only inches from his, batting her eyelashes as seductively as she knew how. Jean's blush deepened, his expression quickly pinching in an odd mixture of vexation and embarrassment. "Or did this-" She rested her other hand on his chest, trailing over his collar bone. Her voice was scarcely a whisper. "You wouldn't...do anything...?"

"I...I told you's all horse shit!" Jean barked, finally snapping out of his indignant silence and batting Sasha's hands away. "Get off me, you idiot!"

Connie was doubled over with laughter as Sasha sat back on her knees, looking very pleased with herself as he came over and held his hand up for her to high five. "Ha! Sasha that was priceless! So sure, Jean never had a crush on Mikasa- pfft, he wishes,"

"Listen up, Mikasa's a comrade, got that? She doesn't mean anything more to me than a fellow soldier-"

"Sure, sure, whatever you say," Connie waved him down dismissively, reaching out and taking the final crate they hadn't looked through yet. After clarifying its contents- food, so it was his to take- he hoisted it into his arms and nodded at the open kitchen door. "Now if you don't mind, Sasha and I have a job to do, so get these other crates back on the wagon and wherever you need to take them."

"You're not listening to me...!" Jean yelled, scrambling to his feet, but Sasha and Connie were already retreating. They disappeared within the building and kicked the kitchen's back door closed behind them, still guffawing over their own stupid joke.

Breathing sharply through his nose in his fury at being humiliated, Jean lingered hesitantly, fists clenched at his sides as he stared after them. Clearly he was debating whether or not to go after the two and further defend himself- until, finally deciding it was pointless, he whirled around, gaze falling to Armin who was still sat in the grass and watching the proceedings in silence.

"Armin," he barked, still red-faced. "This didn't happen, got it? Nothing happened here!"

"Uh...sure." Armin frowned a little, torn between amusement at Jean's obvious feelings and the obviously bigger issue.

"Good," Jean passed a hand over his ruffled hair, exhaling in exasperation as some colour left his face. "Right. Let's just get this stuff over to the storage rooms."

"Right," Armin got to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass away from his breeches before hauling the crate full of spare gas canisters into his arms and crossing the short distance from where they were back to the wagon. Jean followed suit, silently stacking the crates back onto the cart.

"So," Armin eventually cleared his throat. "About what you said about Mi-"

"I told you it's nothing!" Jean thundered.

Armin froze, unnerved by the ferocity in his tone. He faltered at the sight of Jean's face, twisted in defensive anger. He seemed to realise how intimidating he appeared because a second later his expression slackened and he held up his hands in defense.

"I...uh...I mean..."

"I...I was just going to ask if you meant what you said," Armin stammered. "About...Mikasa and Eren...um, being told whether they live or die..." He stopped dead and stared at his comrade doubtfully. "What did you think I was going to say?"

"Nothing- nothing important, it doesn't matter."

"Jean..." Armin took a step forward, then hesitated, gaze dropping to the floor. "Jean...you don't mean what you said about not being jealous, do you?"

"Ha!" Jean snorted. "I get it coming from Connie, but you're supposed to be the smart one. You think I'm jealous of getting someone knocked up?"

"No. I think you're jealous because this means Mikasa's really gone."

It was Jean's turn to fall silent. Abashed, his eyes darted away as he whirled around, seizing another crate and slamming it back onto the cart with unanticipated vigour. The whole wagon dipped at the force of impact, the crates already stacked on it rattling and wobbling alarmingly.

"So what if I am?" He finally said, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

Armin sighed, reaching up to scrape the hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. "I guess it's none of my business."

"Damn right."

"But at the same time, you can't act like...like a complete tool just because things didn't go your way."

"Huh?" Jean spun around to face him. "A tool? Christ, Armin, it's not like I'm acting like a kid."

"You're not acting like an adult either. Listen..." Armin looked up, his eyes flickering upwards to meet Jean's confrontational gaze. "If Eren and Mikasa do come back, they're going to need our help. Because what you said is right, neither of them are ready to be parents- they're going to need everyone's support. And yes, I mean everyone. Because the more we make them feel like they've committed a sin then the worse they're going to feel."

"And why should I care?"

Armin shrugged and spread his hands out before him. "You said it yourself. They're still our comrades. We have a duty to uphold to look out for them."

"You know, I think the rules are a little different when one of them's pregnant," Jean shook his head disdainfully, but he slowed in placing the next crate onto the cart, looking thoughtful. "Look, I get I'm acting like a little bitch about it. But what can you expect? Just because I'm smart enough not to follow the wills of my heart- but Eren not only got to, but everyone's fighting for him to get away with it? That seems like some unfair bullshit right there."

"Eren's situation is different to yours-" Armin began testily.

"Still, we're not supposed to seek a relationship within the ranks, right? So if everyone else is supposed to swallow every hormone in their body, how the hell did he get away with it?"

"He didn't," Armin said softly. He lowered his gaze to the floor, the familiar feelings of dreadful apprehension flooding his core once more. "They didn't get away with it. You're too quick to place the blame on Eren, you know."

"Whatever. You wouldn't get it."

Jean's brusque retort was cut off by the rattling of a cart someway off and the resounding clatter of horses over flagstone. They both looked up from their task, out beyond the fields to see a carriage being pulled by two horses leaving the front of HQ and beginning its journey along the winding path leading away from the castle.

"Huh," Jean shaded his eyes from the weak light and peered at the small carriage growing distant with every passing second, eyeing its dark colours and gold gilded edges. It wasn't especially fancy or bespoke, but its elegant ridges were enough to denote its importance. Or rather, the importance of the people within it. "That's from the interior, isn't it? They're the official carriages used by the higher ups, right?"

Armin didn't say anything.

Jean regarded him sideways for a few seconds in thoughtful silence.

"You think that's them?" he asked flatly.

Armin nodded heavily. "It could be."

"Tch." Jean lowered his hand and dumped the final crate on the back of the wagon, lifting up the dray at the back and bolting it in place with a resounding thunk that jarred the whole cart.

Armin gazed wistfully after the carriage- new dipping in and out of sight as it took the winding road towards the cover of the forest, diminishing in size. He had half a mind to seize a horse for himself and follow them. But logic, as per usual, won out, and he knew there was nothing he could do but wait.

"You know," Jean eventually said, eyeing the carriage disapprovingly- now just a speck that disappeared once and for all under the cover of the trees. "For all my reservations, I have to admit- it would suck to have our comrades die dishonourable deaths."

"That's not exactly comforting, Jean."

Jean shrugged. "It's how it is."

To be continued...