This is my rifle, this is my gun

[notvaljean]

Jean misses hot showers.

He misses a lot of things about the world that was--the Internet, getting enough to eat, being warm, washers and dryers, safety--but mostly he misses hot showers. He's pretty sure, sometimes, that he would give his right arm to be able to stand under a steady, pounding shower stream, turned up to almost scalding, and to actually get clean for once. He supposes, though, that hot showers have gone the way of the dinosaurs and worries about global warming, and there's no point in bemoaning their extinction.

He can't help the little indulgence of splashing some cool water on his face every morning, though. It's a simple routine, one that once involved cleansers, gel masks, toners, a fancy electric razor that was serious overkill for the amount of beard he can actually grow, and aftershave by Ralph Lauren, but it makes him feel connected to who he used to be. The same way the shirt he shrugs into--an oversized button down that once belonged to a much taller man, with sleeves so long he has to fold them up to his elbows--makes him feel a little better. He's lost the tie he used to wear around his head, but he still slips his long-dead iPhone into his filthy jeans pocket as he moves out onto the compound to start his day. He knows the others think he's crazy for continuing to carry the phone, months after its batteries gave their final gasp, but there's a picture of his mom buried in its electronic memory, and he can't let it go quite yet.

He walks out into the field behind the compound, his eyes narrowed against the early morning light, looking for a certain big, bulky figure. He's loathe to ask this, but it's probably time. It was sheer dumb luck that got him through Chicago unscathed--dumb luck and years of fencing lessons--but he might not get that lucky again. There aren't crowds of slow, panicking people to distract the walkers anymore; he might have a harder time slipping through if he ever got separated from the group. And he can't walk in someone else's shadow forever.

It doesn't take him long to find Reiner, and Jean slides up next to him, clearing his throat to get his attention. "Hey. Can I ask you something?"

Comments

[warrioreidlos]

It is strange to think that sometimes it feels like their biggest enemy is not the walkers, starvation or even a damn disease striking them down, but the quiet stretches of downtime in between.

Of course nobody looks forward to the dead massing underneath their walls, or the times when they have to venture out to gather more supplies, but at least those times are as straight-forward as they are dangerous. There is no time to dwell on the past and what they had --and sometimes more importantly, what they had not-- done. There is a clarity and peace of heart that comes with only thinking of survival. Something that is very lacking when the long minutes stretch into hours stretch into days, and it seems like there is nothing to do but think of how it had been, of what they had left behind and had done.

Honestly, Reiner tries to avoid idleness as much as possible. He'd much rather brave the dead than to sit alone with his thoughts and memories. And for those times when there are no dead to be braved, even a shitty book is a better companion than the guilt. Not that he's got an interest in grey, let alone fifty shades of it, but it had been one of the least intimidating books in the duffel bag full of them he had brought back along with him on his last scavenging trip --Bertolt had always liked books, after all-- and with little else to do, at least it is something.

Jean, however, proves to be an even more welcome distraction.

Closing the book, he turns his full attention to the kid, his brows rising a little in curiosity. "Sure, go ahead. I'm listening."

[notvaljean]

Reiner. Reiner, plz. Why are you reading a middle-aged housewife book? Can old copies of Better Homes and Gardens be far behind? Does Bertolt know your reading taste took a sudden turn for smut central?

Whatever, it's not Jean's concern. He side-eyes the book a little, but holds his tongue. He understands how insidious the boredom can be. He hasn't personally resorted to shitty Twilight fanfiction yet, but he might not be that far behind. God, he'd sell his soul for an hour on the Internet!

"Can you teach me how to shoot?" It's no secret that Jean knows dick-all about guns, and he figures he should probably have some vague idea of how they work.

[warrioreidlos]

Oh, you complain now about his reading, but will you be complaining when he makes the compound look prettier through his Better Homes and Gardens skills? He thinks not.

It is not a request that comes entirely as a surprise. Quite frankly, if Jean hadn't come to him, he would've found the kid himself one of these days to teach him a thing or two about guns. He doesn't need Jean to become an amazing shooter, but as long as they are all in this thing together, they are forced to rely on each other's skills as well. And one person unable to defend themselves could kill them all.

Putting aside his shitty book, he gets ready to push to his feet. "Of course, glad you asked. Can't lag behind on Marco, right?"

[notvaljean]

Yes, the compound will be very pretty, thanks to Reiner's Better Homes and Gardens skills. It'll look just like Grandma's house, and the walkers will be completely taken with its rustic charms.

Jean starts a little when Reiner mentions Marco. "Have you been teaching him too?" That doesn't surprise him, although he pushes down the tiny bit of hurt that Marco didn't think to ask him to join them. He doesn't know where that possessiveness comes from, and does his best to ignore it.

[warrioreidlos]

Are you sassing him? Cause he will knit you a doily to put all that sass on.

"Sure. Came to me a few days ago wanting to learn how to shoot. Gave him a few pointers." Jean might be jealous, but for Reiner teaching them separately was much easier. And safer. They were both completely green behind the ears when it came to handling guns of any kind, and this way he could give both his full attention. Rather than be distracted and have one fuck up while he was teaching the other.

[notvaljean]

He's not jealous, exactly. Jean doesn't know what he is, when it comes to Marco, except that the only time he can actually sleep through the night and not wake up in a cold sweat is when Marco is wrapped around him, holding him tight to his chest. It's pretty gay, but it's just to sleep, right? That's all it is.

The boners he wakes up with are entirely coincidental.

"Can I get the same treatment?" Jean knows he's good at crowd control with his rapier, but only in a limited capacity. Sometimes, you just need a gun to take down a horde, and he doesn't have a clue how to do that. And it's pretty obvious that Reiner knows the most about guns around here, shitty reading taste aside.

[warrioreidlos]

Jean, Jean, Jean. There is only so long you can pretend it is ordinary morning wood.

"Sure thing. Go round us up some targets and meet me on the roof." He's already about to leave so he can go collect the guns and ammo they will need before he rethinks that, calling back to Jean. "Eren if not a target, don't even try it."

[notvaljean]

Denial is a powerful thing, friend, even in the zombie apocalypse.

"Thanks!" Excellent, he has something to do for the rest of the morning, although he shoots Reiner a scowl after his last comment. Eren would make an excellent target, and would greatly improve Jean's odds on actually hitting something.

But whatever. He scrounges up some dented, rusty tin cans that can't be used for anything else and meets Reiner on the roof, dumping the cans at his feet. "These'll work, right?"

[warrioreidlos]

It is perhaps a strange idea to Jean but some of them actually like Eren.

"Yeah, they'll do." He already took the chance to pass the message along that he and Jean will be using the roof for gun practise. Wouldn't want anyone to wander out onto the roof and get hurt. Even if the door to the roof is away from the air-conditioning unit they will use for target practise, it's still better to play it as safe as possible.

He's loosely holding a gun in his hands, the gesture deeply familiar, barrel pointed down, and the safety on. "Don't bother stacking them up yet. There's some other things you need to know first."

[notvaljean]

Everyone has terrible taste except Jean.

Jean waits, hands fidgeting, as Reiner gets geared up to explain something. He can tell Reiner is going to lecture him about something, he can feel it in his bones. "Okay. I'm listening."

[warrioreidlos]

Reiner pats the ledge besides him for a moment. "Sit your skinny ass down, Kirschtein, this is going to take a while."

He's got the feeling that Jean won't take as easily to the safety lecture at Marco had done.

"I'm gonna run the rules of handling a gun past you. If I don't think you can handle this safely, I'm not going to let you shoot. If you're not cool with that, we might as well break this up right now."

[notvaljean]

Jean obediently sits down, the rapier on his hip rattling as he adjusts it behind him. He knows everyone thinks he looks silly, carrying the piratey looking sword with him everywhere, but he got through the city with nothing except it and a dented nine iron. The sword has earned his respect, and if the compound falls, he's not being taken off guard.

"All right. Go ahead."

[warrioreidlos]

Reiner switches the gun from his right to his left hand, the barrel still pointed down between their feet. "Always treat a gun like it is loaded, even when you know it is not. Don't aim it at anything until you are ready to shoot. And never aim it at something you aren't willing to kill. Because you will kill. There's no real non-lethal shots with a gun. Just shots where people got lucky."

[notvaljean]

Jean balks a little at the lecture, his face going pale and serious. He comes from a liberal, peace-loving household that taught him firearms were common and not worth messing with. He's never held a gun, let alone shot one, and Reiner's lecture is striking home.

He nods. He has no intention of pointing a gun at anything except a zombie, but this is still hitting hard.

[warrioreidlos]

Pale and serious is good, because this is the one subject that deserves pale and serious. Guns were excellent tools to use in fighting the walking dead, but they were dangerous and deserving of respect, the sort of respect that Reiner had gotten ground into him by a couple of drill sergeants. He just hopes he can properly pass it onto Jean.

"Good. Now about holding a gun. Never put your finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot." He flips his hand so the back of it is up and Jean can see his finger rest away from the trigger and along the guard. "You might think it'll save you a few seconds in a bad situation, but mostly it just means that if you trip or get jostled or your nerves fray, that you will shoot without intending to. It's something that can happen to even the best gunmen. So remember it and don't get cocky about it."

[notvaljean]

Jean jumps a little when Reiner flips his hand around, like he's afraid he's going to point the gun at him. He nods when he sees where Reiner is holding his finger, but then Jean has a question.

"Is that why you're not supposed to stick a gun down your pants?"

[warrioreidlos]

Reiner notes the jump, and he brings up his free hand to rest it on top of Jean's head. He doesn't mean to be tougher on Jean than he was on Marco. It's just... Marco reminds him of Bertolt and Bertolt had always been good at following the rules and directions. Jean on the other hand, well, he's more like him and Berwick had been. And they had been utter dumbasses at times.

"Exactly. You can stick one down your pants once you are tired of jacking off, cause if that thing goes off, you won't have a dick anymore."

[notvaljean]

Jean scowls fiercely and knocks Reiner’s hand off his head as soon as it settles there. Cut him some slack, he’s not a little kid! And even though his hair is greasy, shaggy, completely devoid of hair gel, and rapidly growing out the meticulous dye job he’d had done down in the Loop before the apocalypse, he’s still vain about it. He’s just glad the sun is starting to bleach the top part blond again, and he’s loath to admit that, when it’s clean, the natural dye job looks a lot better than the expensive chemical ones he used to get.

“Okay, okay, I got it, no guns down your pants!” He’d really rather not lose his dick, and this is one lesson that will stick. “How do you carry it, then, when you’re on the move?”

He recalls more than one frankly horrified expression when he and Marco had stumbled onto gun caches and brought their spoils back. Maybe it was how they were holding them.

[warrioreidlos]

Jean is certainly not the only one whose got a hair cut that is looking a little shaggy. Reiner doesn't have the issue of his dye job growing out, being quite the natural blond, but he's certainly having the issue that his normally short hair is getting far too long, itchy and sweaty against his forehead and the back of his neck. He really needs to find someone in this compound who has a steady enough hand to cut his hair short. Else he might very well follow Connie's example and go for a buzz cut.

And there certainly had been a lot of horror. Watching two gun newbies trot up carrying a live, and possibly loaded gun, without any skills. Any sensible person would be horrified. "If you are intending to use it, the best way to carry it is in a holster. If you are not intending to use it, unload it, put the safety on, lock the barrel in place, and bag it. That minimises the risk of accidental discharges." Minimised, cause with a gun there is never no risk, unless you take it apart. He shrugs a little. "It is the best thing we can do right now."

[notvaljean]

Someone on this compound needs to step up their hair cutting skills, before they all end up looking like deranged sheep dogs. Surely there must be someone here who can cut hair!

"Okay." What Reiner says sounds reasonable, and Jean nods. "Can you show me how to do all that stuff?" He remembers the looks of horror, and now he's starting to realize exactly what he and Marco had done. Note to self: in the future, bring Reiner and Bertolt to the guns, instead of the guns to them.

[warrioreidlos]

Long, face obscuring bangs are totally not Reiner's style.

How about in the future Marco and Jean actually have the skills to handle guns safely. He grins a little in response to Jean's question. "I wouldn't teach you to shoot without all of that." He nods to the gun. " C'mere, let me start by showing you how to load and unload a gun." He indicates the safety switch. "First of, this is the safety. Always make sure it is on unless you are ready to shoot. Got that?"

[notvaljean]

"Yes." Jean nods. He's heard of safety switches before, even if it's mostly from TV and movies. "It keeps the gun from firing, right? Is it in the same place on all guns?"

[warrioreidlos]

"It's usually on the left, but that is no guarantee. Add to that that on some guns the switch being up means the safety is on, and on other guns the switch needs to be pointed down." Really, it would be a lot easier if there was a unified model for it. "If you aren't sure, treat it as loaded and bring it to me carefully. I've seen enough guns that I can usually figure it out." He is not bragging; his time in the armed forces and everything that has happened after that has put him around so many guns, he has experience with most of the common models.

[notvaljean]

Jean scowls. "That's stupid. So unless you know the gun, there's really no way to tell if the safety is on or off?"

The more Reiner tells him, the more Jean thinks guns are overrated. He might just stick to his rapier and whatever bludgeoning weapon he can find handy. Still, he should probably learn about the safety on the most common guns. Then, at least, he can make sure they won't go off while he's bringing them to Reiner and Bertolt.

[warrioreidlos]

Reiner shrugs. He wishes he had a better answer but he doesn't. He wasn't exactly a bigwig in weapons development or anything. "It is how it is. I think they tried to streamline things more, but big companies still like to do things their way. Or liked to, at least."

Not like they were around right now anymore. And their money certainly hadn't bought them more protection from the undead.

[notvaljean]

"Okay. So can you teach me where the safety is on all the different types of guns we have around here?" Jean has an ordered, analytic mind, and if he learns about all the guns on the compound, that will make him feel better. He gestures to the one in Reiner's hands. "Can you show me the safety mechanism on this one again?"

And then maybe let him try to use it?

[warrioreidlos]

It is nothing he wasn't already planning to do, so agreeing to Jean's request comes rather easily to Reiner. They honestly don't have that many different types of guns when you get right down to it. When you had to get by on the types of guns that could be scavenges from the homes of small town USA, there were only so many different ones that were used.

"Sure. It's right here." He repeated the gesture of switching the safety off and on again, before glancing at Jean. "Wanna hold it? It's heavier than you might expect."

[notvaljean]

It might be Small Town USA, but it's Redneck Small Town USA, and Jean has been frankly amazed and a little appalled at the sheer numbers and varieties of guns they've come across. It seems like a mind-boggling variety to him, and he thinks it'll take him a long time to learn about all of them.

His eyes go wide when Reiner offers him the gun, though, and he tentatively holds out both hands. "Can I?"

[warrioreidlos]

How different their perspectives are. Reiner's own hometown was not much different from these little villages, except higher up in the mountains. To his eyes, this is a rather normal amount of guns they have encountered.

"S'what we are here for, right?" His voice is warm with gruff affection as he carefully transfers over the gun to Jean's hands. "Remember, keep you finger off the trigger. Tell me when you've got a good hold on it so I can let go."

[notvaljean]

Jean takes the gun gingerly, more letting it rest on his palms than actually holding it. He stares at it for a few moments, then nods to Reiner.

"Okay, I've got it." It's definitely heavier than it looks, and Jean doesn't like it. He comes from a household of liberals, and this just feels creepy, redneckish, and wrong. He balances the gun on the flat of one hand, and points at a part of it. "That's the safety?"

[warrioreidlos]

With Jean saying he's got it, Reiner slowly pulls his hands back, making sure Jean actually got a hold on it, before he lets go completely. He gives a short nod when Jean indicates the safety. "That's it. Right now it's on. If you slide it down, the gun will go live."

[notvaljean]

“Okay.” Reassured that the gun isn’t going to go off, Jean carefully moves it in his hands until he’s holding it the right way. He remembers what Reiner said and has it pointed to the side, the nozzle aimed at the ground. “Am I holding it the right way?”

[warrioreidlos]

"Yeah, you are doing good." To be honest, Reiner would immediately jump in if Jean were to manhandle the gun. As it stand though, as long as Jean doesn't do anything actively dangerous, Reiner is content to let him try. He knows that Jean is nervous, but there is nothing wrong with having a bit of nerves. It'll help him remember to respect the gun he is handling and not do anything stupid and cocky.

[notvaljean]

"Okay." Jean just holds the gun for a few moments, feeling its weight and heft, and then lifts it, pointing it towards the open field on the side of the compound. "You look down the top of it to aim, right?"

[warrioreidlos]

"Yeah." Reiner reaches over, carefully touching the front and back sights on top of the barrel. "Try and line up your line of sight along these two when aiming."

[notvaljean]

Jean lifts the gun and looks down the sights, trying to line them up on a tree in the distance. "Is it easy to hit a walker with one of these?"

Reiner and Bertolt make it look really easy.

[warrioreidlos]

"If you got the practice and an advantageous position, yeah." Reiner drums his fingers against his thigh, letting the conversation lapse into silence for a few moments. When he starts talking again it is slow, as if he is thinking something over. "S'easier than people in some ways." Not... that he has ever shot a human, nope, what would give you that idea, what is he, some sort of soldier? "They don't think or learn. They are singleminded so they are easy to predict. As long as you don't panic or run out of ammo, you can beat them."

[notvaljean]

Don't think Jean didn't pick up on that, Reiner! He lowers the gun and turns to look at him, his eyebrows lifted and more than a little shocked. "Did you ever... shoot a person?"

He sounds surprisingly sympathetic. He had to do some things he wasn't proud of to get out of the city, and he can relate.

[warrioreidlos]

"We were... we were guards--" It is the best lie he can come up with as it stands. He knows the others must be rather curious where Bertolt and him had learned all they had, and it seems like it is only luck that nobody has made the jump yet from their skills with weapons to the idea of them being soldiers. Though when they will-- Reiner can't deal with thinking about that. They'd deserve the punishment, he knows they do. All of this is their fault, after all. But he still, selfishly, wants to spare Bertolt from that.

"It's... sometimes we had to do things for our job that I am not proud of." Now there is an understatement if he ever told one.

[notvaljean]

Jean, fortunately, is willing to accept that explanation. He wonders, briefly, what exactly Reiner and Bertolt were guarding that required them to shoot people, but he isn't going to ask. At this point, he doesn't really care.

He watches Reiner for a moment, then bends over and very carefully puts the gun on the ground. Then he comes up to the big man and puts a hand on his shoulder. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

[warrioreidlos]

Reiner glances to the side, looking at Jean. The kid wouldn't be offering him this level of comfort if he really knew what he had done. He knows Jean has lost loved ones when the dead rose, people he will never see. He knows Jean lost a future when the walkers came, forcing him to suddenly handle a life he would've never wanted. If Jean knew he was responsible for bringing back the dead, he certainly wouldn't be patting him on the shoulder.

But even against his better judgement he drinks in the comfort. It's not really meant for him, just for the person Jean thinks he is, but it is still a human touch and some comfort. Only Bertolt has been able to give him that, but Bertolt is just one person. And Reiner has always been too much of an extrovert to depend on the affection and attention of just one person.

Reaching up, he rests a hand against Jean's head, still for a moment, before he ruffles his hair. "Don't worry about it. We all just have to keep going, right?"

[notvaljean]

Jean ducks away from having his hair ruffled, although he lets it go on for slightly longer than he would have normally. It's not like he has any gel or styling products left anyway.

"Yeah. Yeah, we do." He bends down and picks up the gun again, holding it a little more naturally this time. "Okay, so how do I shoot it?"