APRIL 18, 2003

It was Friday, and Jean sauntered in, feeling amazing and eager for the weekend. He was early, so he walked into the break room to get some coffee, hoping there were donuts that day. He saw a bright pink box and grinned as he hurried over to it. He flipped the lid open, but all that was left were crumbs.

Eren had a newspaper open, reading the latest from the Iraq War as he sipped coffee. "Sorry, I ate the last one," he muttered. "You snooze, you lose."

"Fuck off."

"Language," Eren warned passively.

"I'm not on the clock yet, so I can say whatever the hell I want. And why are you here so damn early?"

"I'm actually here later than usual. You're just always barely skidding in on time."

Jean huffed, although it was true, and walked over to the coffeemaker. "Well, if you have this much free time in the morning, you should eat a real breakfast. Someone like you shouldn't be eating donuts. You look like you haven't worked out in ten years. Maybe you should join a gym."

Eren mumbled, "Says the guy who can't punch anymore."

Jean spun around to him and growled, "What did you say, bastard?"

Just then, Reiner walked in with Bertholdt beside him. "What's that about a gym? Do you work out, Jean?"

"Not since I got back from Afghanistan."

Eren froze with his coffee almost to his lips. Jean served in the military?

Reiner was also intrigued. "You fought in the war?"

"I was on an aircraft carrier, so we didn't see that much action." His eyes darkened. "I saw enough when I went ashore, though." He instantly snapped out of it. "I probably should get back into lifting. Trost didn't have a gym. Working out in that redneck town was helping someone get their tractor out of a ditch. I need to find a gym around here."

"I can invite you to mine. I get a bonus if you join. I got Bertholdt going."

The tall man laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, although I can't lift weights like Reiner can. I just like the treadmill and swimming pool."

Jean grinned excitedly. "That'd be great. Do you go a lot?"

"Every day before work."

Jean cringed and muttered, "Oh, no way could I do that. I'm lucky if I can make it here on time. I can join you on weekends, though. Maybe we can have some friendly rivalry like the old days."

Reiner laughed and shook his head. "I've seen your definition of friendly rivalry." He shot a glance at Eren, who ignored them. "I wouldn't mind a workout partner, though. Bertholdt doesn't do well on weights."

"I really don't," he agreed sheepishly.

Jean shrugged modestly. "I probably can't lift as much as you, but my endurance is good. Gotta keep in shape to please the ladies, you know," he said, elbowing Bertholdt with a suggestive wink, who awkwardly tried to smile back. "Don't wanna tire out after just ten minutes, am I right?"

Eren rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of disgust. Pig!

Jean added, "You know, Jaeger used to have a helluva body."

Eren had just been taking a drink, and he choked hard on the coffee. Was Jean, of all people, actually complimenting him?

"All the girls were crazy for him. Bronze skin, six-pack abs, plus that boyish charm." He turned over to Eren. "Seriously, what happened to you? There's letting yourself go, and then there's ... that!" he said, waving to Eren's pale, gaunt face. "I mean, look at yourself."

"Jean," Reiner warned softly.

He went on anyway. "You look like total shit. Your arms are like twigs, I swear you skip lunch every day to drink more coffee, and those bags under your eyes make you look twenty years older. Do you even get laid? I doubt it. I don't think even a prostitute would give you two seconds of her time." He ended with a mocking snicker.

Eren shoved his chair back, refilled his coffee, and walked out of the break room with a silent glare at Jean. He seriously did not need any of this early in the morning. Not on this day.

Jean began to follow, but Reiner put his arm out to clothesline him.

"Stop it," he warned Jean. "His girlfriend recently broke up with him. That sort of comment probably went too far."

"What, just over a girl?"

Reiner shook his head. "Eren was serious about her. He was planning to marry her."

Jean's eyes widened. "Whoa! What happened?"

"I didn't ask. I felt it wasn't my place."

"I tried to ask," Bertholdt muttered. "He said he didn't want to talk about it."

"Plus," Reiner said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "something is up with Eren. I don't know what yet, but he's been really ... well, serious. About work. About saving money. Something is making him desperate for a bigger paycheck."

Jean mused quietly, "Maybe it is prostitutes."

"Stop that, really, before you get into trouble. Again!"

Jean pouted but kept any other comments to himself.

What could possibly make Eren struggle for money? Grisha had been a famous doctor. Although they lived in the suburbs and lived like any other normal middle class family, everyone in school knew Eren's family was worth millions. That fortune had been one of the many things that made Jean so jealous of Eren. He had the looks, the money, amazing parents, and was popular with girls.

Granted, Carla had been a stay-at-home mother, so maybe she was unable to find good work after her husband died. Jean had heard that Eren went to Duke University, so that must have been expensive. Still, inheriting a few million dollars surely must have been enough for him to live comfortably for years!

Had Eren blown his inheritance by partying through university with cocaine and hookers? No way! Eren was absolutely not like that. He probably never even smoked weed in his life.

Or had Grisha willed all of his money to charities? Jean recalled his father often called the Jaegers "liberal commies," so sharing the wealth made sense.

Why was Eren working so hard to save money?

All through the day, Jean glanced over to Eren's desk. He hated that now he had to look across the whole room, and he could just barely see the back of his head. He tapped his desk, wanting an excuse to walk over there and see him a little better.

Eren really had thinned out since Jean knew him. Granted, they had been fifteen when Jean moved away, peach-fuzz cheeks just starting to grow the first few wispy chin hairs, but Eren had solid muscles even when they were young. It was what made him so fun to brawl with: Eren could actually fight back!

Now, he looked ready to collapse, like if he stopped drinking coffee for just an hour, he would faint. Then Jean saw Eren open a bottle and swallow down a few pills. He rubbed his head, like he really was barely remaining conscious.

As lunch rolled around, Reiner invited a few coworkers to go to a sandwich shop across the street. Jean quickly said yes, but when Reiner extended the invitation to Eren as well, he said no, he still had some work to finish up before he ate. Jean narrowed his eyes.

What a dick! If he doesn't eat properly, then he won't be able to do his job, and that means more load on my ass.

* * *

"Hey guys," Jean said as they sat around eating sandwiches. "Have you noticed that Jaeger seems more out of it than normal today? Hange went over to his desk and called him three times before he noticed anyone standing there."

Reiner nodded dourly. "I told you earlier, something is up with him."

"Because of his breakup?"

"No, even before that. This has been going on for a few months. He's not eating, not sleeping, and drinking so much coffee, it's a miracle he hasn't given himself a stroke."

Bertholdt gave a worried look before replying, "I also noticed that he's been taking pills."

"I saw that," Jean muttered.

"The pills are just Tylenol," Reiner assured them. "Petra, the company nurse, told me that Eren used to go to her office frequently for headache medication until she got him permission to bring pills from home and keep them at his desk."

Jean scoffed. "Of course he's even allowed to do that!"

Bertholdt looked over in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Jaeger's always gotten away with things. The teachers in school catered to his every whim."

Reiner sighed and shook his head. "I know for a fact, that's not true. After his father died, Eren was denied time off for bereavement. Apparently, a kid can get an excused absence to attend the funeral of a parent, but not time off to actually mourn. When he simply didn't show up for two weeks, the school kicked him off the wrestling team and threatened that he would be held back a year if he missed any more days. He came back, but he did horribly for the rest of that year. It almost cost him a scholarship."

Jean dropped his head. "I remember he missed a bunch of school, but I thought the teachers had granted him extra time off." He shrugged it off, trying to put that darker part of his youth aside. "Well, he's a thick-headed workaholic now who obviously can't take care of himself."

Bertholdt chuckled and slyly pointed out, "You sure are worried about Eren."

"Of course I am! If he drops dead, I'm the one who'll have to pick up the slack."

Bertholdt shrugged at that lame excuse. "Maybe Eren is simply aiming for more commissions, perhaps a promotion."

Jean laughed bitterly. "Not like he has to try hard. Everything in that bastard's life has been handed to him on a fucking silver platter. We just have to know how to say yes Mr. Jaeger sir, no Mr. Jaeger sir."

Reiner gave Jean a hard look. "Why do you hate him so much?"

Jean shrugged. "He just pisses me off, that's all."

"What could Eren possibly have done to make you dislike him? He's one of the nicest guys I've ever known, besides Bertholdt."

The tall man sitting next to him blushed and bashfully looked aside at the compliment.

Jean's glowering eyes focused down on his sandwich. "I really don't want to talk about it. Let's just say, he did something that almost destroyed my entire life, and I'll never forgive him for it."

"But you've hated him since we were twelve—"

"And that's when it happened!" Jean snapped. "Look, I said I don't want to talk about it."

Reiner and Bertholdt shared a stunned look. Eren almost destroyed Jean when he was twelve? How? What on Earth could a child have done?

"For what he did to me," Jean muttered, "I swore to myself that I would be that guy's own living hell. Doesn't matter if we're sixteen or sixty, I will never forgive him."

Bertholdt tried to be reasonable. "Maybe you're just remembering things wrong. That happens all the time."

Jean let out a bitter laugh. "No, I remember clearly. I don't think he does, though, and that pisses me off even more." How dare he! How dare Eren forget all the things that led Jean to being the sort of man he was now!

Reiner sighed, "Well, there goes my attempt to make you two friends."

Jean barked out a sardonic scoff. "Yeah, that is never going to happen."

Bertholdt patted Jean on the shoulder. "I don't think you should keep this rivalry up with Eren. Something is going on with him, and I think it's best if you leave him alone."

Reiner nodded in agreement. "Yeah, try to cut him some slack. Whatever bad blood happened between you two in the past, it's long over. Time to grow up and move on with your life."

Jean said nothing else. He did not want to appear insensitive, but he really did not give two shits if Eren was going through some rough times.

What could possibly be going wrong with Eren's perfect little life anyway?

* * *

https://youtu.be/araU0fZj6oQ

They went back to the office after lunch, and sure enough, Eren was sitting at his desk, still working, his coffee almost empty, with no signs that he had eaten a thing. Jean shook his head in annoyance, began to walk past, but he paused when he heard a sigh. He looked back over, and Eren was rubbing out his head. Another headache?

Jean tapped his foot, scowling, and finally bolted off to the break room. A couple minutes later, he was back in the cubicle farm and marched right up to Eren's desk. Tired eyes with dark circles under them look up, scowling already, so when Jean threw a candy bar at Eren, he caught it with a surprised look.

"You're a waste to this company if you can't even focus. Eat something once in a while."

Eren looked down at the Snickers bar and backed up, obviously confused and suspicious.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, asshole. That's payback for Halloween when we were eight."

"Eight?" Eren whispered, really looking confused now.

"Yeah, that one Halloween. Remember? Trick-or-treating with your mom downtown."

"My mother never took us downtown on Halloween. She said it was too dangerous."

Jean stared at Eren with his jaw dropped in astonishment. "Oh my God, how could you have forgotten something like that?"

"Who the hell remembers Halloween when they're eight?" Eren shouted back.

"Who forgets a moment like that? Seriously, did you get amnesia or something? Do you remember anything from childhood?"

Eren's mouth tightened. "I remember you picking on me all the time, like the asshole you are."

Jean looked stunned and confused for a moment. "Shit, at least remember what your mom did. She was bad-ass!"

Eren's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about? What do you know about my mother?"

"How the fuck do you not remember?" Jean shouted, but he realized eyes were turning to him. He seethed and lowered his voice. "Everything changed that day. It still gives me nightmares."

Now Eren looked worried. "What?"

Jean shook it out, like waking from the edge of a bad dream. "Well, whatever. I owed you one from back then, so this is my payback. Sixteen years late is better than nothing, right?" He still looked worried. "Seriously, I knew your memory was messed up, but you should get your head checked if you can't remember stuff that important."

"Stop with the mystery crap. Just tell me."

Jean looked scared for a moment. His shoulders bristled as a chill sliced down his spine. "Ask Mikasa. She was there. Maybe she can round-house kick you across the head to jar your memory."

With that, Jean turned and stormed back to his desk, even more mad because Eren clearly had no idea what Jean was talking about.

"Who the hell forgets that?" he gnashed to himself.

For the rest of the day, Jean was so mad, he could barely focus. Jean's whole life changed that Halloween. He got a sick feeling in his stomach just thinking about it.

If he's forgotten, then fuck him!

If Eren could forget a day that was so monumental in Jean's life, then he was not worth any more concern. Jean tried to shove Eren back into the box of "I Casually Hate Him," but the issue still bugged him.

He had brought up that Halloween in particular because it was definitely memorable. No child experiences something like that and just brushes it off. There was no way Eren could have forgotten! Not under normal circumstances.

He figured out in middle school that Eren simply could not remember much of elementary school. There were giant gaps in his memory. Now he was convinced.

Amnesia!

It was the only explanation. Somehow Eren had forgotten a moment that still haunted Jean. He also seemed to not remember the reason why Jean hated Eren so much ... and also why he could not leave him alone.

It was like Eren had tried to erase their history together, and that pissed Jean off to an obsessive level.

Fuck him! Fuck him for forgetting!

Jean managed to get through the day and was glad to be going home. Life, however, was not done screwing with him. He was stuck in downtown street traffic when, of all things, he got caught behind a bus.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he bellowed. "Come on, guys, let me get over so I can go around—fuck no! Don't stop again. Argh, fucking buses! Come on, it's a green light, let's go people, let me over, let me—oh fuck you!" he yelled, laying on his horn, and the car beside him did the same, flipping Jean the bird. "I was merging over, you asshole. Fuckin'..."

His tirade paused as he saw the group of people who had just gotten off the bus, including Eren.

"Wait, he lives this close to work?"

However, Eren walked toward the building in front of the bus stop. Jean looked up at the pristine white building and realized they were right in front of the hospital. He watched through a red light as Eren went through the parking lot and entered the hospital doors.

"What the hell?" Jean whispered as worry tugged at his gut.

Just then, someone honked their horn. Jean jolted to realize the light had changed and the bus was already across the intersection. Jean swerved hard into the next lane, ignoring the screeching brakes and horns that chorused in anger. He flipped them all off and sped past the bus with a squeal of his tires.

"Fuckin' buses," he muttered half-heartedly, not really into the road rage now.

* * *

That evening, Jean was on the phone with his best friend, Marco. Their fathers had been childhood friends, the two boys had known one another since they were babies, but when Jean moved away, they got separated. Whenever one of their fathers threw a football party, Jean and Marco got to meet up. After his father lost his job in the city, it was Marco's father who got him a new job back in their original town. He and Marco got to finish off their last two years of high school together as best friends.

"How's it hanging?" asked Marco. "Do you like the new job?"

Jean walked around the apartment with the phone wedge between his shoulder and ear. "Eh, it's okay I guess."

"Oh, that doesn't sound good," Marco mumbled. "I thought you'd be bragging about getting the phone numbers of every girl in the building."

"Well, all the hot ones are taken, and all the average ones shot me down or threatened to report me for sexual harassment."

Marco chuckled playfully. "Serves you right! You mentioned in your email that you made some friends, though."

"Met up with old friends, more like it. From my old school."

"Oh! That's good news."

"Not really," Jean mumbled as he prepared some rice. "One of them is Little Jaeger."

"Jaeger?" After a moment, Marco gasped. "Wait, Eren Jaeger, that kid who lived next door to you? Oh, you poor thing."

"Don't treat me like a kid," he grumbled as he pulled down a can of tuna.

"Please, please tell me you're not trying to gay-bash him. Seriously, do you want to end up like your father?"

Jean slammed the tuna can onto the kitchen counter. "Fuck him!"

"Calm down," Marco said soothingly. "Look, you can't afford to get fired on bigotry charges like he did. I mean, sheesh, maybe people got away with talking like that thirty years ago, but it's 2003. You can't do that these days. He knew that. You know that!" Marco was silent, and Jean sulked quietly. With a knowing tone, he asked, "You're harassing him, aren't you?"

"He pisses me off, okay?" Jean shouted.

"What pisses you off about Eren Jaeger?"

"Everything! Fucking everything. The way he talks, the friends he has, the fact that his life has always been so perfect—"

"He lost his father when he was fifteen. I wouldn't call that a perfect life."

"Sometimes, a quick death is easier to handle than a long, drawn-out, fucked-up failure as a life."

Marco let out a long sigh. "So once again, this goes back to your father."

Jean grumbled, yanked out a can opener, and got to work on the tuna. "Don't pull your shrink tactics on me, Marco."

"Because you know it works," he quipped back. "Maybe the fact that you think I sound like a therapist is a sign that you need to go back into therapy. Look, I know you. I know you don't hate people like your father does; you hate people because your father does."

"That makes no sense," Jean snapped.

Marco merely replied with two thudding words: "Armin ... Arlelt."

Jean flinched at the name.

"You knew he was Eren's weakness, you tormented that poor boy just to get to him, and I know it haunts you to this day."

Jean opened his freezer and pulled out a bag of vegetables. "Because he was harmless. That little fag was a twig, couldn't have hurt a soul. He cried once when I accidentally stepped on an earthworm." He dumped half of the vegetables into a bowl, put the rest back in the freezer, and threw it into the microwave to defrost.

"Don't call him a fag, please," Marco said with an exacerbated sigh. "That's the sort of speech I'm talking about, harmful words that will get you fired one day. Now, I'm sure Eren knew just how delicate Armin was too, and that's why he was so protective. If someone bad-mouthed me, what would you do to them?"

Jean grumbled, "Bash in their face."

"Exactly. Eren was a rival, but Armin was innocent. I know you didn't hate him, even though he actually is homosexual. You only picked on him because it made Eren react."

Jean let out a soft scoff. He hated when Marco could point out the truth, but he grudgingly knew that this was what made him his best friend.

"You don't actually hate gay people, Jean. You've convinced yourself that you need to ... and once again, this goes back to your father."

"So what am I supposed to do, huh? Go fuck the first homo I see and wave the rainbow flag?"

Marco sighed with weary patience. "You know, I'm not exactly thrilled with the idea of having a homophobic school bully as my best friend. I know you're better than that, so prove it to me. Try to be at least civil with Eren Jaeger."

"Why should I?"

Marco chortled on the phone, and Jean could practically see his smirk. "Because I'm your best friend and I'm asking nicely."

Jean let out a scoff.

"And ... because I could threaten to tell your parents what really happened to their truck back when we were sixteen."

Jean's eyes narrowed, and he muttered, "You're a jerk of a friend, you know."

"I know," Marco said with a light chuckle. "Are you going to act like a mature adult now?"

"Not if I can help it," he teased, "but I'll try to ignore that bastard."

Marco merely sighed. "Good enough for now."

"And don't you dare tell Pa about the truck."

* * *

https://youtu.be/mwG6g5boyF4

1986 (Age 7)

Eren ran into the Kirschtein front yard with his arms loaded with toys. "Jeeeeaaan!" he cried out in a long, cheerful cry.

Jean turned around and smiled with a missing tooth. "About time, you slowpoke. Even Armin is here already."

Eren grinned brightly, too excited to care about the insult. Just then, he noticed a new face standing beside Jean and Armin.

"Hi! Are you a new friend?"

The boy was small with freckles and a gentle, shy smile. "Hi," he said with a tiny wave.

Jean snapped his fingers in realization. "Oh, right, you two haven't met yet. Eren, this is Marco."

"Polo!" Eren shouted, and he giggled.

Jean slapped his hand to his face and sighed. "You're an idiot."

Marco just chuckled. "I get that a lot."

Jean went on, "I've known Marco Bodt for years, but he lives far away."

Marco nodded. "I only get to see Jean when our dads get together."

"Oooh, you're a dad-friend," Eren said, nodding sagely. "That's a friend who you're friends with because your dad is friends with their dad." He dropped his vast collection of toys onto the grass. "I brought these. We can play together."

"Yay!" Armin shouted, picking through the toys to find ones he liked.

Jean folded his arms. "Why are you so late?"

"Oh! That's because of my parents."

Jean poked him in the forehead hard. "I bet your mom scolded you for not keeping up with your homework again. Stupid little Jaeger!"

"You're the stupid one."

Eren smacked Jean lightly, then dashed away, knowing Jean would chase him. Sure enough, Jean shouted at the hit and ran after Eren. He tackled him down, and they rolled over each other across the grass until Jean got the upper hand.

"Gotcha! Now for punishment." He tickled Eren until the boy could not breathe from laughing so hard.

Marco smiled as he watched them. "It's nice to know you have a friend living next door. That must be really nice."

Jean lifted up. "Oh, he's just a jerk."

Eren grabbed Jean, threw him off, and rolled on top. "Who's a jerk, you stupid horse-face?"

Just then, a girl walked into the yard, and the two boys stopped tickling each other. Jean shoved Eren off hard and stood up in astonishment.

"Who is she? She's cute," he whispered in awe.

Eren excitedly ran up to her and draped his arm around the girl's shoulders. "This is why I was late. It's been a secret for ages! Everyone, this is Mikasa. Mikasa, this is Armin, Jean, and Marco Polo."

"Just Marco," said the freckled boy.

The girl bowed from the waist to the three boys. "Nice to meet you."

Armin waved bashfully. "Hi."

Marco looked to Eren. "Your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?" Jean roared. "That's not fair. You're not allowed to get a girlfriend before me."

Eren chuckled and shook her head. "She's gonna live with me from now on."

Armin's mouth dropped. "Oh my!"

Marco looked amazed. "Wait, is she your wife?"

"What?" Jean's shout was piercing. "You got married? No way!" He whined as he looked at the pretty girl. "No fair."

Eren laughed at Jean's theatrics. "No, no, nothing like that. We adopted her."

Mikasa answered, "I'm his sister now."

"Mom and Dad have been talking about this for ages. Today, they finished all the grownup stuff. Mikasa is now my new sister."

"Sister?" Armin whispered. "But she's ... uh..."

"She's Chinese," Jean said bluntly.

"Actually," said Mikasa, "my mother was Japanese."

Armin said in awe, "You can adopt other races?" He burst into a grin. "That's so cool!"

Marco laughed. "You'll have to put up with Jean as a neighbor, though."

Meanwhile, Jean was sputtering. "You ... You can't have her as a sister. She's way too cute to have someone like you as a brother."

Armin walked up to Mikasa with an amiable smile. "I'm glad Eren will have more family around. You'll have to keep an eye on him, though. He tends to get in trouble."

Mikasa looked completely serious as she declared, "I plan to watch over and protect my new brother with my life." She grasped onto Eren's hand.

Jean looked flustered, and he yanked Eren away from her. "Hey, aren't you acting a little too close for brother and sister?"

Armin giggled and whispered into Marco's ear, "Jean likes her."

"Do not!" Jean instantly yelled, only to panic as it was a bit too loud. "I mean, if they're gonna be brother and sister, he can't act all lovey-dovey close to her, holding her hand and stuff."

"Why not?" asked Marco. "I'm close with my older sisters. I hold their hands and give them goodnight kisses. That's normal."

"A kiss?" Jean shrieked. "No! That's not allowed!"

Eren slammed his finger into Jean's chest. "Let me make one thing clear. You are not allowed to kiss my sister."

Jean pushed him away. "Hey, you can't tell me who I can kiss."

Eren pushed back. "I can when it's my sister."

"Just for that, I'm totally gonna kiss her one day."

Mikasa said deadpan, "I would punch you in the nose."

Eren jumped at Jean with a shout, tackling him to the ground. They began yet another fight.

Armin looked fearful. "Stop it! Stop fighting before the grownups see."

Mikasa walked over and lifted both boys straight up by the collars of their shirts. "Stop."

Eren instantly went as limp as a kitten held by the scruff of the neck, and Jean looked astonished that a girl was strong enough to lift him so effortlessly.

Eren said, "Sorry, Mikasa."

Jean mumbled, "Yeah, sorry."

She let them go, and Jean turned away. He saw Marco had an amused face.

"What's so funny?" he grumbled as he adjusted his collar.

"You're always quiet when our dads have a party."

Eren barked out a laugh. "Jean, quiet? He must send his good twin to you and sends his evil twin to me."

"Shut up, little Jaeger."

Marco went on, "I'm glad to see that you can open up to others. I was afraid that I was your only friend."

"I have friends," Jean muttered petulantly, although he had to admit, that was only Eren and Armin. "Hey, Chica-sah?"

"Mikasa."

"Right. Will you be my friend?"

She looked over to Eren. "Is he your friend?"

Eren rolled his eyes. "Somehow, yeah."

"Then you are my friend."

"Fantabulous!" Jean cheered.

Eren slammed his finger into Jean's chest again. "But you still can't date my sister."

Jean lifted up his fist. Armin pulled back Eren, Marco pulled back Jean, and Mikasa got between the two, smashing their faces aside with her hands.

Minutes later, they were playing with the toys Eren had brought out, reenacting a battle they saw on a cartoon. Jean and Eren fought with their action figures, Armin reminded them how the cartoon actually went, Mikasa looked over the toys with fascination, and Marco laughed as he had fun with a large group of new friends, rather than just having Jean around.

Inside the house, they heard the adults cheer for the game, then boo as their team missed a point, more cheers, and then screams of profanity when their team lost. As the sun began to dip, Marco's parents came out and called for him to come. He waved goodbye to everyone as he climbed into his parents' car and drove off.

Eren muttered, "He lives far away, huh?"

Jean sighed. "Yeah. It's where I was born, I guess, but I don't remember that far back. I only see him during big games. Normally, Papa goes to his house because they have a huge TV, but they're fu-mi-gating, whatever that is, so Marco came here this time."

Mikasa hummed. "Then he won't be at school with us."

Jean looked over to her. "Are you gonna go to our school?"

She nodded. "I will go wherever Eren goes."

Jean pouted and grabbed Eren's arm. "Yeah, well, he was my friend first. I'll let you be his sister, but he's still my best friend."

Jean's mother came outside and smiled at the children. "Jean-boy, maybe you should see if the Jaegers will allow you to spend the night. Your Papa is mad about the game and he drank a bit so..." Her eyes caught sight of the girl. "Oh! You must be Grisha and Carla's new adopted daughter."

Mikasa bowed formally. "I am Mikasa. A pleasure to meet you."

Nancy clasped her hands together and cooed at how adorable the tiny girl was. "What good manners! Jean-boy should learn from you."

Jean folded his arms and looked away stubbornly.

Carla came out just then. "Armin, your grandfather just called. He's coming to get you soon. Come wash up. Nancy," she called out, waving to Jean's mother. "How did the game go?"

"His team lost, and Linny ... well, he's in one of his moods. I was hoping Jean-boy could spend the night."

Carla looked worried. Just then, she heard a crash from inside the Kirschtein house. "How about you come inside and have a cup of tea with us?"

"Oh, I should clean up the kitchen—"

"I insist," Carla said firmly, but with a pleasant smile. "Please, come and meet Mikasa."

Nancy hesitated, but with a sigh she nodded.

Carla looked relieved as she ushered everyone inside, serving tea for the adults and hot cocoa for the kids. Eventually Armin left with his grandfather, and the children sat around the television watching the Disney Channel and ignoring what the adults were doing.

When Grisha arrived home from work, he escorted Nancy back to her house, saying it was the gentlemanly thing to do, although Jean saw Carla slip him something which he hid in his pocket. Was that a syringe? He ignored it and kept watching Goofy and Donald.

When Grisha returned, Jean got up saying he needed to use the bathroom, but he sneaked over to the kitchen to listen in. Grisha and Carla spoke in hushed voices. Jean stayed low as he eavesdropped.

"He was passed out in his own vomit. I'm surprised he didn't asphyxiate. We cleaned up what we could."

"She shouldn't sleep there. If he wakes up..."

"I put her up in a hotel. I'll go get her before work."

Carla sighed in both relief and sadness. "Thank you, dear. I didn't realize his drinking had gotten this bad."

"I know his doctor. He told me Linny was in rehab back in the 70s. I'll hint that maybe he needs it again."

Carla looked toward the living room, and Jean hid even further back to escape her view. She whispered, "I'm so worried for Jean."

Jean's heart ached at the tenderness of her voice.

"Linny hasn't been violent toward anyone yet. I asked Nancy, and she insisted he hasn't hit either of them."

"That's good. Still, this sort of behavior is going to rub off on Jean. I've heard some of the language that boy uses, and he doesn't even know what he's saying. Imagine if he picks up habits like this later in life. Alcohol addiction is so evil."

Grisha chuckled and patted her cheek. "Says my wife who's addicted to coffee so bad, she gets cranky before her first morning cup."

Carla playfully acted offended, and Grisha gave her a kiss. Jean slipped away, not wanting to watch adults smooching. His mother was okay. That was all that mattered.

Carla and Grisha let the three children stay up as late as they wanted, until all three passed out in a huddle on the couch with the television in front of them playing static.

* * *

MARCH 31, 1997

It was the NCAA Basketball Championship, and although he was just shy of his 18th birthday, Jean's parents allowed him to drink alcohol for the first time. Sure, he had been drinking beers out in the woods with his friends ever since he was fourteen, but now his parents actually let him drink since he was "practically a man now."

Marco had come over with his father Lars Bodt, and two of Linny's coworkers showed up. Nancy wandered in from time to time, making sure they had enough to eat. Mostly, they wanted more to drink.

More beer. More 7&7. More!

They had been rooting for the Kentucky Wildcats, the #1 seeded team, seemingly sure to win since Arizona had never won a championship game before. Then the game went into overtime, tensions were high, voices were raised into a frenzy. Suddenly, Arizona scored ten points to Kentucky's five points, winning in a massive upset. They were all disappointed, but Linny...

He went into a rage. The television was smashed to pieces. The popcorn bowl dented against the fireplace. The VHS player went through the living room window, shattering it. A lamp went flying, and it hit Nancy in the head, knocking her out.

At that point, Jean launched himself at his father, beating him for daring to hurt his mother. He blanked out most of the rest of that night. He recalled Marco shouting at him to stop, Lars kneeling by Nancy, one of the coworkers on the phone calling for an ambulance, and his own father hitting him back, getting one good left hook to Jean's jaw. His mother eventually woke up and begged Jean to stop, but he couldn't.

This bastard ... this fucking bastard...

Police came. Jean was afraid he might actually go to jail. His 18th birthday was only a week away, after all. He could possibly be charged as an adult.

In the end, Nancy was taken to the hospital for stitches and a concussion, Linny was taken away to sleep off the alcohol in jail, and Jean's actions were deemed self-defense. One of the cops even assured him, he was a hero, "a boy defending his mother."

Jean knew it was more than that.

The next morning, he packed up his clothes and left to Marco's house. The following week, on his 18th birthday, he applied for the Navy and joined right after graduating high school. He never lived with his family again.

* * *

PRESENT DAY: 2003

"She protected us," Jean muttered.

Jean had never bothered to wonder why he was not allowed to watch football games when his father had a party. If it was a minor Sunday game and they watched during dinner, that was fine, but the big games, the ones with a huge party, games Jean should have been more interested in...

He somehow always ended up with the Jaegers.

He found out later in his teens, after he lost the protection of the Jaegers, just why he was sent away. The drunken rages were chronic. Jean usually waited anxiously to see who would win. If their team lost, he hurried into the kitchen to get his mother out of the way.

And he swept up the broken dishes the next morning.

He began to realize just why Carla pulled him over to their house on game nights. She would also urge Nancy to come over for tea and keep her there until late.

She was protecting them.

Deep in his heart, Jean knew that he owed Eren's mother his life, and likely the life of his mother too.

"Dammit, Jaeger. How dare you forget how bad-ass your mother was!"

# # #

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#

What happened on Halloween when they were eight? We'll find out soon.

One of These Days was a 1997 hit by country singer Tim McGraw. It peaked at #2 in the USA. It's about a man who was a bully as a teenager and told lying promises in order to take a girl's virginity only to break up with her. As an adult, he's haunted by the bad things he did in the past. Then he meets the kid he used to bully. Rather than be bitter, his former victim replies in the chorus: "One of these days you're gonna love me / You'll sit down by yourself and think / About the times you pushed and shoved me / And what good friends we might have been."

That part really feels like Jean and Eren.

It's Been Awhile is a 2001 song by Staind. Although the song is about dealing with addiction, the chorus fits Eren's missing memory problems and wavering mental state: "And everything I can't remember / As fucked up as it all may seem / The consequences that are rendered / I've stretched myself beyond my means."

Forever Young is a 1988 song by Rod Stewart about a father hoping he has instilled enough wisdom so his child can be brave and happy in life. Yet even after their child has moved away and started a family of their own, the parent will be right there behind them, supporting them through good times and bad, because in the parent's heart their child will always be forever young.

"a kid can get an excused absence to attend the funeral of a parent, but not time off to actually mourn"— This is unfortunately true. In many American school districts, a death in the family comes with one day of an excused absence. Sadly, a few classmates of mine learned about this lack of empathy the hard way. If you're lucky, schools and employers may give you five days of bereavement. This was considered "highly generous" by the schools/employers, and an outrage by the grieving people. Having lost my mother to a heart attack last year, I can confirm, for the first 3-5 days you're simply in shock, numb, moving on auto-pilot. That isn't "grieving." Luckily, in 2023, California passed the Family Rights Act which includes a minimum of 5 days bereavement. That still doesn't feel like enough. I think it took me almost two weeks for the numbness to go away and I could actually grieve. I was too focused on keeping everyone else emotionally stable, I didn't have time to worry about my own emotions.

https://youtu.be/ncdyaLI5f3k

The Disney Channel began in 1983 as a premium channel on top of basic cable television. At first it only aired 16 hours a day, from 7:00 AM to 11:00 PM. They would sign off, the screen would run a test screen, go to static, or ran promos for their shows aimed at adults. (Like Still the Beaver, taking the original cast of the 1950s show Leave It To Beaver but now adults with boys of their own ... because making sequels of classics no one asked for is nothing new.) The Disney Channel did not begin 24-hour broadcasts until December 1986, so the idea of the Disney Channel going to static meant you were up way past your bedtime.

The 1997 NCAA Basketball Championship was one of the "wildest" games of college basketball, with the University of Arizona Wildcats versus the University of Kentucky Wildcats. (Yep, same mascot!) Kentucky went in as the favorite to win by a long shot, yet by the end of the second half, the score was tied 74–74. The game went into overtime. Arizona pulled a massive upset, winning 84–79.

7&7 is a cocktail of Seagram's 7 Crown Whiskey mixed with 7up. This was my parents' favorite cocktail, most popular in the 1970s although you can still order it today. It's easy to make at home and tastes delicious with that lemon-lime flavor pairing with the sweet vanilla blended whiskey. It's hard to find 7up these days, but in my childhood, that was the best clear soda out there.