a/n: And finally, the end of the centrifuge series. I hope you all enjoyed the ride! Thanks much for the kudos and comments, and have a wonderful day! 8)
s: Eren wavers. Jean is done with his bullshit.

Fringe

ii: grit

"How long have you had the dreams?"

"Since I was three or four, probably."

"What triggered them?"

"An accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"…"

"He permanently hospitalized his mother."

"Instructor Levi!"

"Don't lie to this piece of trash. Hanji's trying to help you."

"I see, I see! PTSD, then."

"I was never a soldier, uh…"

"You can call me doctor—or rather, don't. It's stuffy! Just call me Hanji."

"Er, Hanji, then."

"That's a common misconception, Eren! People often think that because a doctor calls it PTSD, it means that the trauma has to stem from the horrors of fighting on the battlefield. Trauma is whatever the mind makes of it, unfortunately. Such a shame that researchers still don't really understand how it works, isn't it?" After the question, Hanji sucks in a deep breath of air and turns sparkling eyes back to him. "Besides, I hear from your friends and Levi here that you've experienced plenty of trauma! Hospitalizing your mother was only the beginning. Your job is another thing entirely. It probably hasn't helped matters at all, firing all of that adrenaline into your system at every turn, and then the death—"

"Doctor Hanji!"

"It's fine, Jean."

"It's fine, he says, Levi! Where on earth do you find them?"

"I swear I'll rip out your vocal cords."

"After I'm done with Eren, you can do whatever you want with me. This is gonna make my career! He's the very epitome of the unknown. I've never studied a power-user like this! Multiple powers—elemental, even!"

"We're all aware, Doctor Hanji."

"Mikasa."

"Do you hear voices?"

"No."

"Aww. Not even one?"

"He said no."

"Okay, okay. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your power control?"

"…Zero, apparently."

"Zero! Incredible."

"Somebody needs to teach you what incredible means, glasses."

"Are all of these questions necessary?"

"Of course!" Hanji's eyes burn bright under their glasses. "I can't perform surgery without his history, now can I?"

The room falls dreadfully silent.

/ /

Jean fidgets in the hallway. "I'm not entirely sure that this was a good idea."

Armin and Mikasa grimace in agreement. The shorter man murmurs, "I didn't know that they could do surgery to adjust people's powers."

"It's not exactly legal," Mikasa mutters grimly. "We can't go around telling people about this."

"Yeah, but that Doctor Hanji's not exactly sane," the ashen-blonde haired man says what they've all been thinking. "What if she fucks Eren up past the point of no return?"

"He's already past the point of no return, isn't he?" Armin laughs balefully, earning another grimace from Mikasa and a bewildered glance from Jean. "Sorry. It's true though, isn't it? None of us can deal with this."

"Okay, so he was getting worse. We can all agree on that," Jean starts, leaning against the wall and studying patterns on the floor. "But he just needed, I don't know, psychological help. Maybe pills."

Mikasa fixes him with an incredulous stare. "You're joking, right."

Armin looks lost as well. "Jean, Eren's gone for counseling for years. Even at the Academy, he tried different medicines, but they made him way worse than he was without them. We hated it."

Running a hand over his face, Jean says, "Shit. Sorry, I should have…I don't know. This didn't have to be the only answer."

Riled up, Mikasa snappishly asks, "Can't you think of another reason he might have been off balance, making this worse?"

"Mikasa!" Armin yells.

"Don't you dare try to pin this on me," Jean growls, blood thumping in his ears.

"You don't even care, so it doesn't matter!"

"Not all of us can devote our lives to Eren—"

The door opens and all three of them turn with horrified gazes. "Would you brats kindly shut the fuck up? Some of us are trying to get shit done."

At that, they fall silent and slink out of the house while exchanging heated glares.

/ /

His powers are advancing too quickly, Hanji says. He had recently blanked out because his body was just trying to categorize his potential powers. It apparently couldn't do this while he was fully conscious, so it put his cognitive functions in the backseat.

It would be delicate brain surgery, and he'd have to take some experimental drugs to regulate, but Hanji was 65% positive that this would help, and that he'd have quite a bit of control over everything.

There is only one downside.

"The power that's making all of the rest of your powers messed up is your healing power."

Eren's mind races. The rest of my powers? What? There's only two. Instead of voicing this concern, he blurts, "No."

Hanji turns around, blinking wide hazel eyes. "No? To the surgery?"

"I can't lose the one thing that…that could help save people." He grasps his head, eyes closed tightly. "I can—I can figure something out—"

Levi slams his foot onto the frame of the sickbed. "Your body put your brain away to deal with this shit. It's not about how much you want to control your powers." Eren flinches at his instructor's words. "By the way, what's this garbage about other powers? He only has two besides healing, glasses."

"Aha! I'm glad you asked!"

Levi groans. "I'm suddenly wishing I hadn't."

"It's only a hypothesis, but remember how I said that your brain was trying to categorize everything, and that's why your meltdown happened? It's gotta be more than a little fire and ice happening in there to knock you out. A fourth power is trying to emerge—you should have seen the signs, right?"

The absent obsession with the sun and the clouds, his pupils blowing out—it's possible. "I don't know. Maybe."

"I knew it!" Hanji shouts, overjoyed. "What kind of power do you think it could be? Do you know what others are lingering underneath the surface—"

"I don't know, Doctor Hanji!" Eren finally snaps, then apologizes breathlessly. "I really don't know."

/ /

"He doesn't want to have the surgery?" Carla asks. "It could be incredible."

Nurse Petra shakes her head. "He's got a difficult choice to make, ma'am." Once she finishes checking the older woman's blood pressure, she says, "Now, let's see your legs."

She swings them over, regardless of the lack of true skin and the burn marks that creep up to her calves. Wobbling a bit, she steadies herself on the rails of the sickbed and coughs. "Nobody here has told him about the cancer?"

"Not a word, Mrs. Jaeger," the auburn-haired nurse nods somberly.

Carla sighs. "Some days I think he knows. As block-headed as he can be, he's not stupid." She thinks about her son rejecting the surgery and laughs. "On second thought, no, he is stupid for turning down the chance of a lifetime."

"Do you know why Eren won't do it?"

"Mm," the older woman hums. "I think I have an idea, but that makes me as happy as it does frustrated." With a sigh, she smiles. "It's hard being a mother."

/ /

"Why won't you go see your mother?"

Eren is petulant. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because…I did a bad thing. No matter how many times I say sorry, that won't change."

/ /

When he's a teenager, when the words of a classmate incite him, he comes again and again. After a few visits, he tests his powers on his mother. The healing doesn't work. He's horrified. He's depressed.

Levi kicks his ass into gear. "Maybe it only works if you do it right away."

"You don't know that."

"No," the instructor says quietly. "I don't. Instead of wasting your life away on things that could happen, why don't you direct your attention towards things your powers can actually affect?"

Eren looks up hopefully.

/ /

Jean slips into the room and glances at Hanji and Levi. "Let me talk to him alone."

Hanji blinks, ready to open their mouth, but Levi tugs on the doctor's arm and jabs his thumb at the door. The blonde waits a minute or two before speaking.

"You don't want to do it."

Eren clenches his fists in the sheets. "What if—"

"You burn someone half to death and you can't fix it?" He tenses. Jean folds his arms over his chest. "I knew it."

"Stop acting like such a pompous piece of shit," Eren seethes, turning his head sharply. "You're the one who's in the most danger if I lose the power to heal."

"You think I don't know that?" Jean snaps, clenching his fingers against his arms. "You scare me, Eren. Everything about you scares the hell out of me."

"Then get away from me!" The brunette throws his legs over the bed and glares at the blonde with watery eyes. "You were never meant to be this close. Your stupid laws of self-preservation should have made you go away years ago, so why are you still fucking here?!"

"Because—!" Jean chokes for a moment, nearly faltering when Eren stands up and walks closer. "Because we've been through a hell of a lot together. I don't know any better than you do, and as much as I would rather throw myself in front of a goddamn car than admit this, I don't think I'd know what to do without the thrill." Eren's eyes grow wide and he's startled when Jean's arms lunge for his shoulders. "You think I don't care. Everybody thinks I couldn't give less of a shit about you, but I think the idea of you giving up on this surgery – surgery that could save your stupid, useless life and your goddamn sanity – is the stupidest thing I've ever fucking heard!"

"Why are you doing this now?" Eren snarls, grabbing Jean by the collar and slamming him against the wall, crying all the while. "Why now?!"

"Shut up, how should I know," Jean snarls back, pulling Eren against his chest and scoffing when his voice cracks.

"You're fucking awful," Eren yanks the blonde down by his hair and smashes their lips together. When Jean opens his mouth and kisses back, their teeth crash before their tongues do.

/ /

Jean taps one foot furiously while they're waiting. Armin looks mildly amused. Mikasa looks stoic in general, but her gaze could set the tall blonde on fire.

Finally, Levi is the one to butt in. "We're all impatient here, kid. Calm the fuck down."

Hanji emerges not even an hour later, sweat plastered over their face and a beaming grin thrown at the adults in the hallway. "All done!"

Jean relaxes. The rest of them sigh in relief.

/ /

Soon after Eren comes out of surgery, he visits his mother with teary eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Carla muses softly. "I'm so glad you did it, son."

"I'm still sorry."

"It's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything about it."

"I'm sorry." He clenches her hand and cries and cries, holding back vomit. She clenches back and cries with him this time.

"Never be sorry for being alive."

/ /

The first few weeks after Eren has surgery are difficult. He's still not on call for missions because some days he can't use his powers at all, and some days he has fifteen new ones.

One day, about nine and a half weeks after discharge, Eren bursts into Jean's room with a wide smile (a genuine one, so bright and obscenely rare that the blonde nearly flushes at the sight of it). He proclaims, "I did it! I'm not dead weight anymore."

Jean rolls his eyes because of course he'd been worried about that. When Eren gets close enough, he flicks him in the forehead. "Good for you. How many today?"

"Well, only four." Only. "Darkness, Fire, Ice, and Gravity—but that's not the point, it's the seventh day in a row. Doctor Hanji said once I get a week or two of solid control down, I should level out. After next week, I'll have doctorial permission to go back to work."

"You don't say."

That turns Eren's rare grin into a familiar scowl and Jean snickers. "Fuck you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Eren's scowl runs deeper and he punches the blonde. "I thought you were done fooling around."

"It's not a game, Eren," Jean murmurs, suddenly stiflingly nervous. "Not anymore."

At such an admission, the brunette blinks, wildly confused. "What."

In the awkward space, Jean kisses him and Eren keeps sitting, startled. "You know, that would've been a good time to kiss back, or tell me to stop."

"Stop?" Eren inches closer, very tentatively taking the taller man's hand.

"I'm not an ass, man," Jean breathes against his skin, feeling stupid. "If you don't want to, I won't kiss you."

"It's just weird, okay," Eren grumbles.

"I'll wait until it's not weird," Jean promises, leaning in to hug him.

Eren glances up, scowling at him. "What if it takes a long time?"

"I still know how to jerk off, you know." Jean finds that he deserves the responding punch and laughs it off despite the pain. "I don't know. Stop overthinking it. We'll figure something out."

With a furrowed brow, the brunette scoffs into the blonde's shoulder. "You're a moron."

"Chief Shadis says he has something for us to do next week—if you're up to it."

"Better."

"I can take you to that diner you like tomorrow?"

Eren relaxes further into the hug with a good-natured huff. "Better."

Finally, Jean murmurs into Eren's skin. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I was bored on missions without you."

Eren's laugh rumbles through his chest. "And you were doing so good." After a moment, he runs a hand down Jean's back with a fond sigh. "I thought you wanted to be happy. Have a family. I can't do any of that shit."

"Oh, shut the fuck up. I don't care." He does care, but he just finds that he cares less about losing all that shit when Eren is absently running a hand through his hair.

"I'll probably get you killed."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm aware." Eren bites his ear and Jean laughs. "Feisty."

"Shut up, Jean."

"No promises." After another moment, Jean says, "Well, except that I'm not going anywhere. That means you can't go off by yourself either."

Eren clenches fists against Jean's back. "But you can. Leave by yourself, I mean. If you ever feel like it's too dangerous."

"I won't."

"You're so stupid."

"I'm aware."

"Eren?"

"Don't say anything else. I don't want to hear it."

Jean laces their hands together. "Okay."

They sit like that until the position hurts and then they move so that they can lie down. Since the sun is blazing outside, Eren curtains the room in darkness, growing quiet beside Jean. Jean laughs a bit before attempting to fall asleep.

/ /

They wake up next to each other, quiet and restful and cautious. Nothing is amiss. Nothing's on fire, or encased in ice, or blown to shreds, or cut in pieces.

It is the beginning of something real.