Chapter Text
Please don’t hurt yourself, Eren thinks as he spots Armin at the far end of the training yard. The last handful of trainees finishes their grueling workout in the shade of a wooden pavilion. There's no time limit for the exercises, only the logs which have to be filled out and turned in. Most trainees rush through them as quickly as their bodies will allow. But a few hang back, taking their time, talking.
The dry grass crunches under Eren and Mikasa's boots. Eren pouts.
"Why doesn't he lift with us anymore?" Eren asks. "I don't mind switching out the weights, it really doesn't take that long—"
"Eren, think about it," Mikasa says. Her fatigue is beginning to eclipse her patience. "It's not about re-racking the weights. It's a mental thing." She stretches her arms and cracks her knuckles. "If Krista can meet the strength requirements, then certainly Armin can. And Mina likes training with him because she thinks if she’s at the same level as one of the boys, maybe she won’t have to leave.”
Eren nods. Their cohort had dwindled rapidly.
“He knows what he’s doing, Eren.”
Eren doesn't doubt it. It's just that Armin seems to be spending more and more time in the training yard lately. They reach the pavilion.
"Hey," Eren says. "Don't you think you've done enough for today?"
"Maybe." Armin sits catching his breath while the others stretch. Ymir, long since finished, massages Krista’s shoulders.
"You should be careful," Mikasa says. She reaches out her hand and Armin grabs it to stand up. "If you do too much, you'll get injured."
"Well, that's the last thing I want. You guys having to carry me around everywhere." He glances at the ground for a second. "More than you already do."
Eren can't tell if Armin's face is flushed from exertion or embarrassment. He and Mikasa exchange a worried glance.
**
If Armin gets injured, they’ll have even less time together. Eren resents not showering together as often. Their moments of true privacy are rare, even just a few fleeting minutes when the others have all left the bathhouse.
"What am I going to do if I have to leave," Armin whispered the night before. The others’ snores and creaking bunks concealed their conversation. In two days they’d be tested again, on the long course through the woods. Armin failed his previous attempt.
Eren rolled over and wrapped his arm around Armin's waist. "You won't have to leave.” He pulled Armin closer.
"But what if I do?"
Eren propped his head up. "You're too smart to fail."
"Eren," Armin groaned. "I'm serious. What if they make me go back." The only things keeping Armin from failing are his strategic ability and knowledge of the gear. For the physical skills, he's fallen to the end of the pack.
"But you're still passing," Eren whispered. "Shadis said you're improving."
Barely, Armin thought. When he isn't dreaming of life outside the walls, he tries to piece together a back-up plan inside them. If he leaves, he will have no money, no relatives, and a fractured education. He considers becoming a medic. Maybe pleading his way into an apprenticeship with a newspaper or a publisher. If he didn’t have his intellect, he would have nothing, he thinks. And the thought of being left behind, having to wait to see if his friends return alive or dead, crushes him.
Eren ran his fingers through Armin's hair and down his back. "They're not going to send you back."
Armin heaved a sigh.
"They know I'm taking you with me wherever I go," Eren said with a wily smile.
It’s difficult to talk about nightmares, Armin realized. Eren always struggled to describe the unique hells his mind descended into at night. No wonder, then, it’s hard to discuss his own. Armin tried to take some comfort in Eren's stubbornness. But the only thing that scares him more than being sent back to the farms, sent back to beg his way through the world inside the walls, is the prospect of being on the battlefield with Eren, unable to pull his own weight.
**
Armin says nothing at dinner.
"Armin, are you ok?" Mikasa asks as the last of the food vanishes from their plates.
"I'm just always afraid I can't do it," he says quietly, looking at the table.
Eren puffs himself up to contradict him.
"I worry that I can't do it either," Mikasa says softly before Eren can get a word in.
"What do you mean?" Armin asks.
"Well," she says, "we run, all the time. But none of us can outrun a titan. We lift weights, but none of us is stronger than a titan. We do all these drills, and we get these scores, but what if it's not enough? What if none of us can do it?"
"We have to find out," Eren growls.
"It'd be one thing if we were just trying to get into the interior," Mikasa says. "And I have no doubt you'd be a fine technician, or an engineer, or even a professor," she says to Armin, smiling gently.
"But that isn't what we want," Eren whines.
Armin cracks a faint smile.
"All that matters is that we survive, long enough to keep fighting,” Mikasa says. "Who knows if any of us will? But Armin," she says, "you have to give yourself some credit. You've improved so much..."
He stares awkwardly at his plate.
"Listen," she says, her tone suddenly blunt. "I know you think you're not a good soldier, but you're still a soldier. How much stronger are you than any civilian? And you're still here. You've seen how many people have left! Quit, gotten injured, or even died!"
"She's right," Eren says. "Eventually none of it may matter. But eventually... We might all realize we're stronger than we think."
Armin nods. He wants to believe them. But their efforts to reassure him just deepen the dread. He embraces the probability of death. What he can’t accept is one of them dying to save him.
The cool night air envelops them as they leave the mess hall. Armin turns to give Mikasa a hug before she leaves for the women's barrack. She has tears in her eyes.
"We've already been through so much, you know," she whispers. She wraps her arms around him. "We've already seen so much more than nearly everyone here. Please don't forget that, okay? Please don't forget everything we've already done!"
She's right. But the fact that she's crying for his sake makes him feel heavy. Dead weight. She kisses him on the cheek, embraces Eren, and follows her long shadow back across the lawn.
**
“Armin?”
Eren brushes Armin’s face, but he sleeps deeply after the day’s training.
Dawn begins to break when Armin stirs, still leaden and worn out, but pleased to wake up to the weight of Eren’s arm across his chest. He turns and kisses Eren’s nose. Eren’s eyes flutter open and he smiles.
If Eren had any nightmares, Armin slept too soundly to notice. Eren hadn't bothered waking him for a reality check and a hug. Lately the nightmares were fewer and farther between. Armin felt awful for Eren, yet secretly relieved to be able to do something, anything for him.
A half-awake Eren kisses Armin's forehead. Armin drizzles his fingernails down Eren's back and elicits a happy moan.
When he pictures the future, this is part of what Eren imagines. The liminal space before dawn. Running his fingers through Armin's hair. Far from the walls, in some mystical country with nothing that can take their peace away. And with real privacy, not just the mutual agreement between the cadets not to ask about the empty beds each morning.
They’re not going to send him back, Eren says to himself. The thought of separation is too difficult to bear. He pushes it out of his mind as much as he can.
Eren clutches Armin closer and the sensation of Armin's nails sends another pleasant shiver down his spine. Everything is well in the world before dawn. Armin relaxes back into sleep, and Eren gently traces the edge of Armin's cheek with his thumb and sighs. In his mind, Armin is a talisman that keeps the nightmares at bay.