Annie's POV
Jack shifted beside her, and she could sense him choosing his words carefully.
"You know," he said finally, his voice gentle, "whatever your father put you through... that's on him, not you. Kids don't get to choose their parents or how they're raised."
Annie's hands clenched tighter in her lap. If only it were that simple.
"Sometimes people do bad things because they think they have to," Jack continued. "Doesn't make it right, but it doesn't make them evil either. Just... human."
Human. The word hit Annie like a slap. That's what Jack saw when he looked at her—a human girl dealing with human problems. Not a warrior. Not an enemy. Not a Titan.
Just human.
The kindness in his voice, the complete absence of judgment—it made something crack inside her chest.
"Annie," Jack said after the silence stretched. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, if something's really wrong..."
She turned to look at him then, and for a moment Jack saw something raw and desperate in her eyes. Like she was drowning and trying to decide whether to reach for his hand.
"I don't know who I'm supposed to be," Annie said suddenly, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
Jack waited, sensing there was more.
"My whole life, I've been told exactly what I was, what I was for. And now..." She gestured vaguely at the camp around them. "Now I'm here, and I look at you, and I see how easy it is for you to just... be yourself. But I don't know how to do that."
"How to be yourself?"
Annie was quiet for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "I've spent so long being what other people needed me to be that I'm not sure there's anything underneath anymore. Like maybe I'm just an empty shell pretending to be a person."
Jack felt his chest tighten at the pain in her voice. "Annie, that's not true. I've seen who you are."
"Have you?" She looked at him directly. "Because sometimes I feel like I'm lying just by existing. Like I'm fooling everyone into thinking I'm something I'm not."
"You're not fooling anyone. You're just... learning. We all are."
Annie shook her head. "You don't understand. You're a good person. A real person. But I..." She trailed off.
"But you what?"
"Sometimes I look at you," she said quietly, "and I think maybe there are different ways to be strong than what I was taught."
"What do you mean?"
Annie was quiet for so long Jack thought she wouldn't answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"You're strong because you choose to be kind. Even when it would be easier not to be. Even when..." Even when you're helping your enemies. "Even when people don't deserve it."
"Everyone deserves kindness, Annie."
No, she thought. We don't.
Jack was quiet for a moment seeing her silence, then let out a soft breath that turned to mist in the cold air.
"You know," he said, "before I found you three in that alley... I was just going through the motions. After Old man Henrik died, after everything fell apart, I was just... existing. Helping people because that's what I was supposed to do, not because I really cared."
Annie felt her chest tighten. "Jack—"
"I mean, I cared in the abstract, I guess... But it felt hollow. Like I was playing a part in someone else's story." He turned to look at her, his expression serious. "But you three... you changed that. You gave me something real to care about again."
Don't say it, Annie thought desperately. Please don't say it.
"You're my important people now," Jack continued, his voice soft but certain. "You and Reiner and Bertholdt. For the first time since Henrik died, I have a family again. People worth protecting, worth fighting for." He smiled, and it was so genuine and bright it made Annie's heart ache. "You saved me as much as I helped save you that day."
Annie couldn't breathe. Each word hit her like a punch. The weight in her chest got heavier and heavier.
Yet, we're going to destroy everything you care about, she thought, panic rising in her throat. We're going to kill everyone in these walls. We're going to kill you.
"I..." she started, then stopped. What could she possibly say? How could she respond to that kind of love, that kind of trust, when she was lying about everything?
"Sorry," Jack said, misreading her silence. "I didn't mean to get so heavy. I just... I wanted you to know. That you matter."
Something in Annie's chest loosened at his words, a warmth she hadn't felt since childhood spreading through her. For one perfect moment, she let herself believe she really could matter to someone. Then the guilt crashed over her like a wave, making her feel sick with shame.
She wanted to say more but all she could manage was a quiet, "You matter too."
And that's the problem.
Later, she told herself. I'll deal with all of this later.
The silence that followed felt different now—heavier but joyful, yet a bit fragile. Annie could feel Jack's contentment beside her, with the peace of someone who enjoyed her company.
"We should probably head back," Jack said finally, his voice lighter now. "Don't want you getting sick."
Annie nodded, though part of her wanted to stay out here forever, in this quiet space where she could almost pretend to be normal and not do her duties as a warrior.
They jumped down from the crate, Annie relaxing a bit while stretching her muscles that had grown stiff from sitting. As they started walking back toward their tent, she found herself looking sideways at Jack.
He really meant it, she thought. About everyone deserving kindness.
The thought was so distracting that she didn't notice the loose stone in the path until her foot caught it. Her ankle twisted sharply and she stumbled, a sharp gasp escaping before she could stop it.
"Annie!" Jack was beside her instantly, one hand steadying her shoulder. "What happened?"
"Just stepped wrong," she said through gritted teeth, trying to put weight on the injured foot. Pain shot up her leg and she couldn't quite hide her wince.
"Let me see." Jack was already crouching down, his voice taking on a different quality—gentle but firm, like he wouldn't take no for an answer. When Annie hesitated, he looked up at her with those earnest brown eyes and her words got stuck in her throat.
Reluctantly, she lifted her foot slightly. Jack's hands were careful as he examined her ankle, his touch felt light but sure. He'd clearly done this before.
"It's swelling already," he said quietly. "Can you move it?"
Annie tried to rotate her foot and winced. "A little."
"Good. Probably just a bad sprain, not broken." Jack stood up, brushing dirt off his knees. "But you shouldn't walk on it. Here."
Before Annie could protest, Jack had moved to her side and was offering his shoulder for support.
"I can walk," she said automatically.
"Sure you can. But you don't have to." His voice was patient, like he was talking to a spooked animal. "Come on. Lean on me."
This is stupid, Annie thought as she reluctantly accepted his help. I've had worse injuries. I can handle a twisted ankle.
But there was something about the way Jack supported her weight without making her feel weak, the way he matched his pace to her hobbling steps, that made her throat tight.
"Almost there," he murmured as they approached their tent.
Inside, Reiner and Bertholdt were still fast asleep. Jack helped Annie settle onto her bedroll, then immediately started rummaging through his bag.
"What are you doing?" Annie whispered.
"Looking for..." Jack pulled out a small cloth bundle. "Here. Medical supplies. Henrik made sure I always carried some."
He unwrapped the bundle to reveal bandages, a small bottle of what looked like alcohol, and some dried herbs Annie didn't recognize.
"You don't have to—"
"Annie." Jack's voice was gentle but firm. "Let me help you."
Let me help you. The words made something flutter in her chest. Not because she owed him something, not because he wanted something in return. Just because she was hurt and he wanted to help.
When was the last time someone took care of me just because they cared about me?
Annie couldn't remember.
Jack moved closer, kneeling beside her bedroll, and suddenly Annie was very aware of how close he was. The moonlight filtering through the tent fabric caught his face as he leaned over her ankle, highlighting the concentration in his expression.
He has nice eyes, she thought randomly, then felt heat rise in her cheeks. What is wrong with me?
Jack worked quietly, first cleaning the dirt from her ankle with water from his canteen. His hands were warm against her skin, gentle in a way that made her heart do something weird.
"Where did you learn to do this?" she whispered, partly to distract herself from the strange fluttering in her stomach.
"Street life teaches you a lot of things," Jack said without looking up. "You learn to patch yourself up because there's nobody else to do it. Then you start patching up other people because..." He shrugged, glancing up at her briefly. "Because everyone deserves care when they're in pain."
Everyone deserves care when they're in pain.
She stared at the top of his head as he went back to wrapping her ankle. His hair was messy from sleep, sticking up in odd directions. There was nothing threatening about him. Nothing cold or calculating that they were led to believe of the Eldian Devils. Just a boy caring about her...
Her stomach started to churn at thinking again of her mission until she decided to think of it later. Future Annie can worry about the mission, she told herself firmly, pushing away the now familiar weight of guilt. Right now, this is... nice.
"There," Jack said, sitting back to examine his work. His face was closer to hers now, and Annie could see the small scar on his chin she'd never noticed before. "How does that feel?"
Annie tested the bandage, trying to ignore the way her heart was beating faster. "Good. Thank you."
"You should keep it elevated tonight. And don't put weight on it tomorrow unless you have to."
"Jack—"
"I know, I know. You're tough, you can handle it." His smile was soft in the dim light, and Annie felt her cheeks flush again. "But being tough doesn't mean you have to suffer when you don't have to."
Annie looked at him, this boy who'd pulled them from an alley and somehow become their anchor. Who shared his food and his blankets and his kindness without expecting anything back. Who bandaged her ankle at midnight because she'd been clumsy, and acted like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I'm not thinking about tomorrow, she decided. Just... just this.
"Annie?" Jack's voice was concerned. "You okay? You look flushed. Are you running a fever?"
"No," she said quickly, grateful for the darkness that hid most of her blush. "Just tired."
Jack studied her for a moment, and Annie had the uncomfortable feeling that he could see right through her. But he just nodded.
"Get some sleep then. I'll wake you if the pain gets worse, okay?"
"Okay."
Jack settled back onto his own bedroll, but Annie could tell he wasn't really sleeping. Just listening, ready to help if she needed it.
Is he going to stay awake all night watching over me?, she realized. Isn't that what he's been doing? Always caring...
Annie stared at the tent ceiling, her ankle throbbing in time with her heartbeat. The bandage felt strange—not restraining her as it was meant to, but warm. Like being cared for.
She touched her still-warm cheeks and tried not to think about how gentle Jack's hands had been, or how his smile had made her stomach do flips.
Future Annie's problem, she reminded herself as she drowsed off to sleep. All of it.