Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nuuuuuuthing
Author's Note: Ehh, this is just something I was inspired to write after seeing that one panel in the manga where Armin was holding off the titans and protecting Jean. [[Just search Chapter 50 and Jean and Armin if you don't know what I'm talking about.]] Let me know which kind of pairings you guys want to see with Armin on the poll on my profile! Since most (fine, all) of my stories will revolve around Armin, I'd like to know what you guys like and don't like. My particular OTP is AruAni, but I don't mind experimenting or writing some bromances :D
Also, this is post-Annie-reveal, but before the everyone-and-their-neighbor's-dog-is-a-titan reveal.

Please enjoy!

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

The boy was startled to say the least that those were the first words his mind registered upon waking. In all honesty, he was quite pleasantly surprised to find himself waking up in the first place, though he felt his pulsing head and aching bones deserved a few nicer words than what greeted him.

Armin slowly pried his sleep-crusted eyelids apart and stared sheepishly at the glowering teen in front of him. He opened his mouth, but no possible explanation trickled out. He promptly closed his parted lips, deciding he would rather look cryptic than ignorant.

What had he been thinking?

He could barely remember how he landed in the bed with the scratchy, starched sheets in the first place. One moment he had been talking to Jean while on a mission and then the next a tita—

Oh…

That's why the brunet in front of him was so angry.

"What did you think you could have accomplished by jumping in the way of a charging titan?!" Jean seethed. He had yet to remove his piercing, furious glare from the blond boy's pale face.

Jean's pretty mad for someone whose life I saved, Armin mused softly. He didn't remember a majority of the details of the attack, but he had managed to push Jean out of the way before the titans swarmed them completely.

"Why did you do that?" the boy demanded. The harsh tone of his voice still hadn't softened, despite Armin's obviously pained expression at the forceful interrogation. "Tch," he growled, finally breaking his gaze from the younger boy's startled, wide-eyed stare. "You could have gotten yourself killed for nothing."

"Not for nothing," Armin heard a reedy, hoarse croak pipe up. He didn't realize it was his own voice until he was already babbling into his second sentence. By then, he couldn't stop himself. "You're a better soldier than me and a better leader. Humanity needs you more than me. Squad Leader Hanji is smart enough to experiment on the titans alone and Commander Erwin doesn't need my help anymore." The words, born from years of shame and a sudden surge of purpose and sacrifice tumbled from the boy's mouth without any form of coherency or validity. Jean watched the boy's frailly built confidence flicker with a horrified expression. Clearly, the boy didn't comprehend what he was saying, as he barreled onto the next sentence with the same distant, terrified expression.

"Armin, you aren't usel—"

"Besides, you always used to talk about your family back at training. You said you wanted to be away from the titans, but I could tell that you just wanted to be safe so your family would never have to be told." The ominous phrase was an unfortunate staple in the lives of the young soldiers. Jean's shocked expression darkened. Before the first battle of Trost, Jean had always underestimated the blond and his uncanny omniscience. Clearly the boy had been paying closer attention to his peers than anyone had ever anticipated.

"I was a differ—" Don't say it. Don't say it.

"But then when you came back after telling Marco's family, you were a different person," Armin continued, unable to stop the words from bubbling out of his mouth. The force of his confession caused the boy to sit up straighter on the bed, despite his aching muscles and bones. Jean was too shocked by the boy's words to coax him back down into a more comfortable position.

Dammit.

"Marco's de—what happened to Marco was horrible, but it wasn't until after you came back when you really changed. Your eyes were darker and you were different and—" Armin took a deep breath "—and I didn't want to change too."

What?

"Wha—what do you mean, Armin?"

The boy opened his mouth and leaned back with a startled expression. His words were finally catching up to him, but he had said too much and couldn't keep out his last confession.

"You changed—but I think you changed for the better, because you were stronger and braver afterwards." The boy averted his blue gaze and stared blankly at the soft, white bindings around his pulsing wrist. He pulled distractedly on the frayed ends of the bandage, trying his best to avoid the question. He could feel Jean's curious gaze boring into the side of his neck.

"I don't know what I'd do," the boy started hesitantly, "if I ever had to tell someone that their son or daughter died because I wasn't able to save them. I think I would change—but not for the better. I think," he added with another hesitant pause, "I think it would be better if I died instead of someone who had a family. Just because no one would have to go tell anyone what happened to me." The boy laughed with a nervous hiccup and rubbed the edge of his stinging nose with his unbandaged wrist. "I don't have a family anymore, but everyone else does, so the sacrifice would be better for humanity, right?"

Jean was silent for a moment, staring at the boy with wide, horrified eyes. Everything that had tumbled out of the boy's mouth previously was nothing compared to this monstrous cannon shell that Armin had just dropped.

"Damn it, Armin!"

The brunet's loud expletive caused the blond sitting on the bed to jump and fix Jean with a shocked expression.

"That isn't sacrifice, Armin. It's selfishness!" Armin blinked once, but he didn't have time to defend himself before Jean launched into his own furious rant. "And it isn't bravery either. It's being a selfish coward!" Jean hated the hurt frown flickering across the boy's light features, but he had to say what was on his mind. To hell with Armin's feelings. He needs to hear this. "Dying is the easy way out—but it isn't going to help humanity at all." Jean wondered how it was that he, once the most self-centered and selfish recruit from the camp, was preaching to Armin "Inspirational Speech" Arlert about selflessness. I guess I really did change, he echoed glumly.

"I thought knocking on that door would have been the easiest part—but it wasn't. Do you know why? Because it was silent. I had always pictured Marco standing next to me, laughing or worrying about the mess and unexpected visit, but there was nothing except for that single knock against the door." Jean took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. "And when his mom opened the door, her face was so happy and bright before she realized that I wasn't her son. To her, I was some stranger who was even worse than the titan who killed her son. Marco's little brother was in the back, but he was so excited to see a soldier, he didn't even realize why I had come."

Armin swallowed loudly and forced his ashamed gaze away from Jean. The older boy spoke in a level tone; however, his eyes were far duller than their usual fiery, passionate glow.

"The hardest part though wasn't telling her that her son was dead. And it wasn't telling her that he was my best friend. The hardest part was the salute. When I had to bring my fist to my heart and swear that Marco died for the betterment of humanity." Jean sighed loudly, shifting uncomfortably next to the still boy on the bed beside him. The brunet hated dwelling on painful memories, but they always seemed to find him regardless of wherever he was.

"I don't know, Armin—you're the smart one. Did Marco die for the betterment of humanity? Have any of us died for the preservation of humanity?"

Jean didn't give the blond time to answer, even if the latter had wanted to provide an answer. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone," he added quietly. Armin peeked curiously at the brunet from underneath dark eyelashes and a bowed head. "But after I left, I knew I would never have to see her again. We could both heal and try to get over it—but not together, because I was still the stranger who told her that her son was dead. So I left as fast as I could. It would be unbearable seeing a family grieve for its lost son or brother every day," Jean finished cryptically.

Armin lifted his head and stared at the boy. He didn't understand what the brunet was trying to say.

"Jaeger and the others call you a genius, but you really don't see it, do you, Armin?" The blond frowned, unable to comprehend what the brunet was insinuating. "If you died, no one would have to tell your family members, since they're already here. We would just be reminded every day that you're dead."

The blond's head jerked up at the implication. He gawked at the older boy with a startled, open-mouth expression. "What?" he croaked in thinly veiled disbelief.

"I mean, you're practically siblings with Eren and Mikasa, you three are so close." Despite all of the hardships the trio had suffered and triumphed through, the blond had always considered his bond with the two as strong friendship. He had always equated Eren and Mikasa's relationship as family, but he never directly labeled his own relationship with the two as family.

"And Connie, Christa, and Sasha have practically adopted you as their long-lost child. Hell, even Ymir treats you like a little brother when she thinks no one else notices." Armin blinked, overloaded by this sudden influx of information. The blond had always dismissed the encouraging smiles and the automatic, guiding hands on his back through rough terrain as mere signs of friendship. "And Reiner?" Armin remembered the larger blond's gentle hands as he carefully wrapped the bandage around the dazed boy's injured skull all those weeks ago. Only moments earlier, Armin had witnessed the blond brutally rip apart a smaller titan with the same hands, holding the glinting titanium blades bathed in steaming titan blood as if he was born to kill.

For so many years, the boy had managed to lie to himself about his weakness and his inability to help anyone. Although he had finally convinced himself that he wasn't useless for humanity, he still hadn't realized that he was valuable to those around him as well.

Armin had loved his grandfather, but the years of dependence on the old man gave the boy a misconstrued sense of family. The blond learned by his own observations and his small, broken glimpse of family taught him that being a part of a family meant he was a burden to anyone who cared for him. Never would Armin ever want to be a burden to anyone else, so he desperately tried to avoid the damning term "family" in context with his own relationships with those around him. He listened to Jean's monologue with a bright, rapt gaze, unable to comprehend the conflicting emotions warring within his being.

"I thought losing Marco was painful, but I don't want to have to lose another brother," the brunet started awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the blond in the bed in front of him. Armin straightened up, flattered and shocked by the boy's difficult confession. Connie and Christa were naturally affectionate people and thought nothing of draping themselves over another soldier with a good-natured smile. However, Jean was a considerably more private person, who rarely spoke about his relationship with others. Obviously saying this to Armin was a challenge for the older boy.

For the first time in their conversation, Armin turned his gaze towards the older boy and studied the brunet's expression and body language. Jean looked absolutely exhausted, with dark circles staining the skin under his eyes and deep creases from worry etched across his forehead. Armin hadn't realized how much his actions had affected the others.

"I don't want to lose any more members of my family," Jean blurted out. He instantly countered his honest admission by slouching and glancing away with an irritated expression, but both boys knew that he was simply trying to play gruff.

"I—"

Armin broke off and shook his head with a hesitant smile. He wasn't going to make the brunet more embarrassed. Jean knew what he was going to say. A comfortable silence descended between the two and Armin resumed picking at the frayed ends of the wrap around his wrist.

However, the peace was soon shattered when the door swung open and several of the former 104th division recruits tumbled into the room, complaining and shushing each other in the tight space. The hissing soon morphed into excited chattering and wide grins when they noticed that Armin was finally awake. Jean smiled thinly and stepped away from the bed as Eren and Connie swarmed to take his place. Mikasa stood to the other side, wearing a faint smile. Armin felt the nearly imperceptible weight of the girl's light fingers resting gently on his uninjured arm.

"Armin! You're awake!" Eren's overjoyed voice was the loudest, seconded only by Connie's gleeful whoops. In his excitement, the brunet jostled Armin's injured shoulder, causing the boy to suppress a wince through his wide grin.

"We thought you'd never wake up," Connie added with a wide sweep of the hand that nearly struck a beaming Christa.

"Watch it, Springer," Christa's freckled guardian angel growled. However, even Ymir was enjoying the company and only rewarded the boy with a half-hearted smack to the back of the head that did little to stunt his enthusiasm.

"I hope you're feeling better, Armin," Christa added sweetly, feigning blatant oblivion to what was occurring behind her.

Not really. He supposed though that if Jean was right, then sometimes family members lied to make each other feel better. "Yes," Armin returned the smile. "Though I am a bit hungr—"

"Sasha's got that covered!" Connie grinned widely.

"She raided the storerooms," Eren added with a nervous glance towards the girl behind him. Even after knowing Sasha for years, the girl's daring still terrified a majority of them.

The girl in question looked up from the coveted food wrapped in brown paper and smiled deviously at the blond boy. She offered the stolen provisions to the injured boy, although she hesitated slightly at first when faced with the thought of giving up all of her hard-won treasures. Armin accepted the gift with a grateful smile, though he wasn't sure how he was going to eat without pulling his uninjured hand from Mikasa's gentle grip.

Surprisingly, it was Connie who first realized the blond boy's predicament. The short boy pulled a face when he looked at Armin's bandaging.

"Hey, how's Armin going to eat with only one hand?"

Eren finally took stock of his best friend and quickly pulled his arm away with an apologetic grimace directed towards Armin. It had been slung casually around the blond boy's injured shoulder, though Armin had been too polite to remind Eren that each time the latter fidgeted, the blond could feel sharp needles of pain tracing their way up and down his wrist.

"I'll feed Armin," Eren announced to the gather teenagers.

Armin's face instantly flushed a deep maroon. "Wha—No—you don't have to, Eren!" The boy managed to sputter. "I'm really fi—umph…" His protests were cut short when Eren shoved a large piece of freshly baked bread into the boy's mouth. Armin chewed slowly while forcing himself not to gag at the forceful action. This seemed like a far cry from Jean's insistence that they were all family. This seemed like torture.

He wanted to cough the bread up and insist he was capable of feeding himself, but the expectant stares from his friends—no, family…?—encouraged him to swallow after a moment of difficulty. "Thank you," he murmured softly instead, still feeling the burn of embarrassment stain his cheeks and ears.

Eren ripped off another piece of bread and waved it tauntingly in Armin's face with a wide grin. Clearly the brunet was enjoying himself far more than the blond was. Armin smiled weakly and obediently opened his mouth.

While Eren (and Mikasa, when Armin croaked if he could have some water) spent his time happily force-feeding his altruistic friend (which, Armin was convinced, was partial punishment for frightening them all so badly), Reiner delightfully retold the actions that occurred after Armin had passed out.

Apart from Jean, Reiner had been the first one on the scene. The bulkier blond recapped with great enthusiasm on how he sliced the titan that had attacked Armin so deeply in the neck that the head fell off completely. Armin listened to the details with wide eyes, partially grateful that he had been unconscious for the gory scene.

"And Bertholdt even got a few of them when they came too close to you and Jean," the blond grinned, clasping his nervous friend on the back. The tallest soldier in the room smiled sheepishly at Armin and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Immediately, Reiner, Connie, and Eren launched into a loud, expletive-filled debate about who killed the most titans. While a majority of the attention was focused on the three squabbling soldiers, Armin took the opportunity to quietly study each person gathered around his bedside without their knowledge.

Ymir and Christa were both focused solely on the argument, though Armin noticed the smaller blond kept a light hand on the bed near Armin's prone leg. The freckled teen also glanced in his direction once or twice when she thought Armin wasn't watching. Reiner and Bertholdt were the furthest back from the bed, but they both kept their shoulders near the door so to be instantly ready should any danger of any kind enter. Mikasa was watching Eren with mild curiosity, but she kept her gentle, warm grip on Armin's hand. Eren and Connie were the loudest, shouting various accomplishments at the other person with obvious competitive glee. The former still held a scrap of bread in his sweaty fist, which Sasha was watching with great interest as the brunet gesticulated wildly.

Surprisingly, Jean was the only one who wasn't invested in the conversation somehow. Armin briefly met the taller brunet's gaze, but the latter did not soften his unreadable expression.

"—id you hear me, Armin?"

"Huh?" Armin jumped, snapping his gaze back to Eren, who was watching him expectantly.

"I said, you better not try anything stupid like that ever again," Eren grinned, though Armin could tell his friend was only half-kidding.

"I—" Armin glanced back over at Jean's genuinely curious expression. His blue eyes raked across the various emotions on each face surrounding him. Suddenly, he knew just what the older boy had meant when he said that Armin was part of the family. The blond smiled widely.

"I won't," he promised. He couldn't give up on his family ever again.

Thanks for reading!
I know I depicted Armin as being pretty down on himself, but I feel like despite all of his [amazing] character development, he still would have massive amounts of self-doubt. Maybe? And he just needs to be reminded that he's the baby brother of the Scouting Legion? Ehh, whatever.
Let me know if there's anything you guys want to see!