Chapter Text
There were always a few things Jean would realize when he wakes up in the middle of the night.
It was always the same time, always the same jerk reaction, and always the same girl. The only thing that would change was the war.
Always a different war.
He wouldn’t remember most of the dream, more like nightmare, but the war and girl were always prominent. There was one time where he dreamt he would be zooming around on what seemed like grappling hooks around giant humans with no genitals. They would stomp around with the dopiest of looks on their face but still cause a lot of damage to anything within their reach. He'd remember the the weight of the gear as it would dig into his skin as he suddenly changed direction. Could feel the sting of a new wound forming as he would skid on the ground with a few jumps as if he were a stone skipping on water for shits and giggles until he would come to a complete stop. As he would be getting up from the ground a pair of legs would stop in front of him. The girl would appear then and urge him to move his ass or else fall prey to the enemy. She'd help him dust off, give him a quick hug and then zoom off on her own gear. Next thing he'd remember would be getting knocked out of a tree he would be taking refuge in by a giant arm he hadn't notice and land on the ground. Breaking his leg in the process by landing on top of his gear. Jean would just be sitting up from finally catching his breath when he would hear his name being yelled out bloody murder and then looking up to seeing a foot closing in on him fast.
Jean would wake up at that point, chest heaving. His forehead would be sweaty and he'd have to mentally will himself to free one of his hands that were clutching his blankets for dear life just to wipe off his face.
Tonight was just the same. He dream started off normally where he would be getting off a boat with a bunch of men onto a beach. Well as normal as it could be with a bunch of men in uniform anyways. But then it'd take a turn for the worse as he’d hurry to run behind some kind of metal protection as hails of what he knew to be bullets would rain around him. The yells of his fellow comrades being pierced with the shrapnel a constant echo in his ears. He would turn his head and see his brother-in-arms sitting next to him. Further down the beach he'd see other soldiers hiding behind sand dunes. It wasn't raining but it sure seemed that way as the bullets would pierce the ground making the sand and water delodge itself from where it laid. Looking towards the water he would see his friend, a nervous boy straight out of training, trying to find cover any way he possibly could. But to no avail. Jean yelled at him to stay down but the odds were against him. The sounds of exploding weapons drowned him out. Just as the freckle faced kid would have reached Jean, a bullet managed to lodge itself into him. The boy's body would slowly crumple in on itself and Jean would gradually leave the safety that the metal contraption gave him just to be there.
As he reached the body that was already oozing out blood, too much blood for any nonthreatening wound, he tried to call for a medic. No one could have heard him. The macabre music of death drowning out everything in the area. That's when he felt a sting in his side. It had felt like a mosquito bite to him, As he would be looking down, Jean would have seen what would be a medium sized red circle starting to appear on his uniform. Only for it to gradually grow in size and deepen in color. Due to his apparent blood-loss, Jean would start to hallucinate. He'd see a girl with auburn hair and the reddest red lips to have ever been. She'd give him a disappointed look even though he couldn't see her eyes clearly. He couldn't have seen anything clearly by that point anyways if he were to be honest with himself. He'd remember her saying that he was supposed to come back to her, that he broke his promise. He would have apologized to thin air if in the next instant he wasn't hit by another bullet right in the chest.
He’d wake up with a jerk. Sweat coming from his forehead as his heart would be beating a thousand beats per second. He’d take in gulps of air to try and calm himself only to get lightheaded and have to stop.
But it was in those moments of clarity that Jean would truly try remember her. Or at least a vague image of her. She wouldn’t look the same, her outfit and hairstyle would be different depending on the time period but he knew it was the same girl from all his other dreams. The color of her hair was always the same milk chocolaty auburn it ever was. It was a weird color combination but it worked somehow. Worked for her. And the way she would call his name, as if she would never see him again which would usually cause a slight twinge within his chest.
God, his dreams. They were really fucked up if you asked him. They didn’t start to happen until one night a few weeks ago when Eren had convinced him to watch some war movie. Saving Ryan’s Privates or something along those lines. He'd always made a point to stay away from historical war films because they'd always give him nightmares but Eren had insisted they watch that night stating that it was his turn to pick the movie for their biweekly group movie night. He didn’t think much of it, though anything war related had always struck a chord with him deep down. He just figured it was something everyone had to deal with. Not with war specifically but some kind of trigger. .
Heaving a sigh for having more questions than answers, Jean turned his head to look at the alarm clock on the drawer next to his bed. Glowering at the bright red letters Jean had to wait a moment for his eyes to adjust to the offending light. It read 4:07 am April 7th, he turned over and wrapped himself in his blanket. It was his birthday. Great. His only wish for now would be to not dream for what little time he had left before he actually had to be up for his first class of the day.