Chapter Text
Within the usually peaceful halls of Shiganshina High, the sounds of angered shouts and swears rang out.The sudden sharp bang of metal of someone being shoved against a locker and a shriek of “Fuck you, Jaeger!” was added. Other than that, the halls were empty. The kids were in their classes, doing what they needed to do, all but Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirschtein and those who preferred to skip class. Eren was never one to walk away from a fight, and he sure as Hell wasn’t going to back down from the dish Jean was serving. But he'd been in the principal's office six times within the first three weeks of his Junior year, now going on his seventh as the other teenage boy from his homeroom class pushed him against a locker for the second time. "You call me 'Horse Face' again, and by the time I'm through with you, everyone will be calling you 'Broken Face', you got me?" the taller, hazel-eyed boy threatened.
"Jean, please. You can't let it get to you like that," a gentle voice cooed, a voice whose sweetness could only be from Jean's best friend, Marco. It had been difficult to get a word in between the two of them for the few minutes they’d been bickering and he was thankful to have been able to cut in before things got too ugly between Eren and Jean.The two of them hated each other from the moment they’d met. Or rather, from the moment Jean and Mikasa had met. Jean seemed to radiate the ‘douchebag’ vibe, which Eren didn’t care for, but as soon as it became clear that he had feelings for Eren’s sister, the already hot-headed teen turned venomous toward the other. A freckled hand placed itself gently on Jean's shoulder, pulling him away from Eren as calmly and sweetly as possible. Marco smiled apologetically at the green-eyed boy. "Sorry about him, he'll try to control his temper better."
"Me?!" Jean asked incredulously, pointing an accusing finger in Eren's direction. "He's the one who keeps starting shit!"
Eren, his eyes wide with anger and his lips in a grim line, replied with a growl, “At least I’m not a pretentious asshole about every fucking thing! Maybe if you'd stop eye-fucking my sister all the time, I wouldn't have to be such a dick!" He shoved Jean hard, knocking him into Marco. Marco fell flat on his ass and let out a pained yelp, Jean only barely catching himself from falling on top of him. Fuck, Eren hadn’t meant for that to happen. "Oh, shit. Marco, I didn't mean-" Jean's fist interrupted him. A sudden flare of pain blossomed in Eren’s cheek as the force of the punch sent him reeling backward.
"How dare you hurt Marco," Jean sneered. Marco's eyes widened a little in surprise at the sudden- yet not unexpected- defense from his friend. Holding his face in one hand, Eren glared back at Jean, eyes burning with rage. He didn't bother explaining that it was an accident, fuck no. Jean had already sealed his fate by giving the first real hit.
-------------------
Eren, as predicted, sat in Principal Smith's office for the seventh time. But, unlike all the other times, a scolding didn't await him. There was only silence. The blond man stared at Eren, studying him, trying to figure out what could be troubling him so much. "Do you need a few days to figure things out, Eren?" he asked, his tone gentle instead of reprimanding. Eren looked up at the blue eyed man, confusion written all over his face. It was only Tuesday, how could he possibly..."I'm suspending you," Mr. Smith quickly elaborated.
Oh.
"We've tried many things, Eren. Detention. Writing sentences. Apology letters. I'm sorry, but this is the last resort. If three days isn't enough to help you get your act together, then I can easily expel you instead. I'm sorry, Eren, but you've gotta help me out, here." The green eyed boy listened carefully, shamefully understanding where his principal was coming from. Jean had a broken nose and a black eye because of him, and he'd gotten away with only a sore cheek. Marco was mad at Eren. Hell, Eren was mad at Eren. He'd been getting into fights since he could remember, the violent tendencies of his becoming more and more natural to him over the years. Nowadays, he just couldn't help it. Such short temperament, anger, and self-loathing had become the norm for Eren, mostly because he didn't want to get in trouble all the time. Especially with what the biggest consequence for his misdeeds would be. The look of utter shame and disappointment in his mother’s dim, dying eyes seemed worse than physical torture, sometimes. Though it seemed like such a thing didn't matter, seeing as how Eren's presence in the Principal's office was becoming such a regular thing that the secretary knew him by name. There might as well have been a gold plated label on the back of the chair Eren usually sat in with his name carved in it. Still, despite the fact that Eren slipped up a lot, he still didn't want to let down his mother. She only had months left. A year, if she was really, really lucky. Cancer was a bitch. Even Eren's father, who had been a doctor in the town's little clinic for over thirty years, couldn't do anything but watch his wife rot from the inside out in their home. She'd insisted on going home from the hospital only two weeks before, and no one had the willpower to resist her desire to at least be able to see her children every day before they went to school.
Begrudgingly, after he was sent back to class and finished out the rest of the day with the sickening image of his mother being awoken from her much needed rest with a call from Mr. Smith, Eren waited by his locker for his sister and best friend to meet up with him so they could walk home together. "Eren!" Armin called, blond locks bouncing as he ran over to his friend, a small stack of books in his arms in addition to the bookbag full of schoolwork and even more books. It was amazing how selective Armin's strength could be, with his ability to carry stacks of books and papers all at once and yet still get pushed around by asshole jocks without putting up so much as a single fist in defense. "Hey," he greeted, smiling breathlessly as he adjusted his hold on the books.
"Hey," Eren replied, not nearly as enthusiastic. Before Armin could ask what was wrong, Mikasa appeared, making him jump in surprise. Mikasa, even with her striking black hair and bright red scarf around her neck, always seemed to show up out of the blue. Her footsteps were always quiet, almost ghostly, giving the young woman a presence that radiated mystery. Her strength and rather muscular physique only made it more odd that she could so easily sneak up on people without meaning to. She was intimidating, to say the least.
"Eren," The girl said quietly, her dark eyes knowing. "You got in trouble again, didn't you?" Eren only sighed, turning on his heel toward the school's front door. He didn't want to deal with talking to his sister about fucking up for the umpteenth time. Just thinking about it was awful enough. That fucking Jean Kirschtein, that horsefaced asshole was the one to blame for all this. If he hadn't been looking at Mikasa like she was a porterhouse steak and he was a starving dog, none of it would've happened. “Eren, talk to me. You can’t just give us the silent treatment every time you get in trouble. Is this about Jean again?”
Eren didn’t bother to stop or turn around. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in frustration. “You’re my fucking sister! What the hell am I supposed to do when scumbags want to get their hands all over you? I can’t just let-”
“I can take care of myself! Christ, what made you officer of who’s allowed to have a crush on me anyways?” Mikasa snapped. Armin bit his lip, growing uncomfortable with the increasing tension between his friends.
The three of them walked down the sidewalk, Eren's frustration revealing itself again as he harshly kicked at a small rock in his path. Mikasa remained silent, unaffected by it, but Armin once again flinched in surprise.
Silence dragged on between the three of them, as it usually did when Eren had to go home and face his mother. Sure, his dad could yell at him and ground him and take away his stuff, but a single look from his mother would always drive Eren to the edge of tears. They all knew that it would be enough of a repercussion for him. Heaving a sigh, Eren looked upward. The sky, sprinkled with clouds, was blue as ever. A breeze blew through his hair, giving the young man a chill. Trees that neatly lined each side of the street rustled with the promise of a gentle autumn. The houses that rested peacefully behind the trees, with lawns neatly trimmed, some with flowerbeds on either side of the walkway leading up to their front door, and others with expensive looking cars in the driveways, were quiet. The trio continued on their walk until the lining of trees thinned out, the houses got smaller and crummier, until they got to the district full of liquor stores, shady drug deals, shitty night clubs, and run down apartments for underprivileged people who couldn't afford nicer things.
Home sweet home, Eren thought, climbing the stairs of the apartment building they all lived in. That was one thing Eren could be grateful for, despite living in a shitty apartment in a shitty town with a shitty life. At least he got to live a few doors down from his best friend. As the three of them reached the front door of the Jaeger household, Armin- unable to use his arms- gently nudged Eren with his foot. "Hey," he called softly, reassuringly, "It's gonna be alright. I'm sure it was just a big misunderstanding. Just talk to her, and she won't be mad at you." The blond teen smiled encouragingly, murmuring, "See you guys later," before he turned and walked down the hall toward the home he and his grandfather shared.
Eren's lips curled themselves a bit with gratefulness toward his friend, then looked toward his sister, the gratefulness gone and dread piercing his eyes. "You might as well get it over with," Mikasa muttered, her tone somewhat cold. But that was just how Mikasa could be at times, especially when she had to deal with Eren's repetitive trouble making. He knew that she, along with the rest of his family, was getting sick of it. He sighed again, wishing he'd at least have more support from her, and stepped into their home. The living room was dark, all the lights out. That was usual, because his mother's sick bed couldn't fit down the narrow hallway that led to the bedrooms and the guest bathrooms. She had to stay in the living room area, her bed replacing the couch they'd sold to help pay for her medical bills.
There, Carla sat, her back propped up with pillows as she gazed out the far window with the broken blinds. She heard the soft click of the door shutting behind the two teenagers that entered, but didn't turn her head. Mikasa quietly took Eren's bookbag from him and went to their room, knowing better than to sit in the middle of what was to come. "I got a call from Principal Smith today," the woman began, sounding more fragile and drained than usual. "He said you beat up another boy for looking at Mikasa the wrong way." Eren shuffled from foot to foot, unsure of how to respond. But his mother suddenly said something, words he never thought he'd hear come out of her mouth. "This is all my fault. If only I'd done something different...Maybe if I had never gotten sick...I..." He didn't need to look up to know she'd begun crying, but he did anyway. She never looked away from the window. "I'm so sorry, Eren," Carla whispered hopelessly. The boy's big green eyes spilled over with his own tears as he took three long strides over to his mother, leaning over her bedside to embrace her frail form as gently and lovingly as he could.
"I'm so sorry, mom," he whispered in a broken voice. "It's not your fault, it's mine. You're the best mom in the world and I...I just...I don't think about it when I get into fights, and I just get so angry all the time a- and this stupid guy keeps shoving his nose in Mikasa's business and people bully Armin all the time...I know you're disappointed in me, but I'm trying really hard. But it's not your fault, mom. I'm just a shitty kid, that's all. Please forgive me...I'm sorry..." He squeezed her a little tighter, hiding his face in the crook of her neck like he always did when they hugged.
Softly, halfheartedly, Carla laughed. She reached up and stroked her son's hair, a brown shade that matched her own. "Don't say 'shitty', that's bad," she giggled quietly, shakily, pulling her hand back to wipe away her own tears before she put it back again. "I understand, now. You want to protect them. You have no idea how proud that makes me, Eren, but you can't always physically fight for their honor. You need to let things go sometimes and let the two of them handle their own problems, do you understand? You can't play the hero all the time, and that's okay. You're a hero to me, Eren." Carla's words sunk down deep, deep in the pit of Eren's soul. She wasn't mad at him. She understood. Of course she understood, she was Carla Jaeger, the sweetest and most understanding woman there ever was. This made Eren feel extremely better, so much so that he didn't let go of his mother for another two minutes. "I love you, Eren," Carla whispered.
"I love you too, mom," Eren replied. I can control my temper. I can. I can, Eren said to himself, a little more hopeful now. After calming down, exchanging a few more gentle words with his mother, and getting her a glass of water for her afternoon ritual of pill-popping various pain medications, Eren excused himself to his bedroom. He entered quietly, leaning against the door after shutting it behind him. Mikasa was laying on her bed, finishing up some homework. "Well...That went a lot better than I expected," he said, pushing off from his spot and walking over to his sister's bed. He sat down beside her, seeing that she was tapping her pen against a pythagorean theorem worksheet and rubbing the end of her scarf between her left thumb and forefinger, a habit she'd picked up as soon as he gave her the scarf when they were nine. Eren knew she was thinking about something. "Hey," he said, patting the top of Mikasa's head. "What's on your mind?"
She was silent for a moment, as if wondering whether she should talk at all. "Well...I wanted to ask you something. It was supposed to be an invitation to help you feel better after talking to mom, but since talking to her wasn't really an issue..." Mikasa trailed off, waiting for Eren to cue her to continue with an explanation.
"You can still tell me," he assured, curious.
Just then, Mikasa sat up. She put down her pen and reached over to the nightstand that rested against the wall between their beds, opened the bottom drawer, and slapped down two laminated cards over the right triangles that littered her math homework. Picking up a card, examining it, and eyes going a little wide, Eren realized they were fake I.D.s. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to go to a bar with me, tonight," she murmured. The young woman was always more open and acted more like an actual teenager around her brother, including, apparently, the act of getting fake I.D.s in order to get them places. Eren had always felt a little smug in the fact that she was pretty cold to everyone except him, and sometimes Armin.
Eren stared at a current picture of himself, recognizing the grey backdrop from the day everyone had to get their school picture taken. Next to his picture was a neat 'Height: 170 cm, Weight: 165 lbs, Age: 21' list, along with all the other required information a license would have. The driver's license looked real enough, but that didn't change Eren's lack of experience with cars. He couldn't afford to get his temps, although he was already sixteen, and he'd never touched the steering wheel of a vehicle before.
"We don't necessarily have to drive," Mikasa said, guessing Eren's thoughts. "The bar is only half a mile from here, and it's really fun. We can get drunk and forget about shit for a while, if you want." Quietly, pursing his lips, Eren nodded. It would be fun to just forget about things and have fun for a night. Or two. Or three. If he was suspended anyways, he might as well do something with his time, right?
Eren smiled thankfully at Mikasa, slipping the I.D. in his front jeans pocket. "We'll have to wait till dad comes home. Then we can sneak out from the fire escape," he said, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the window on the other side of the room beside their beds. They had snuck out before, like two partners in crime, to go sit on the rooftop of the apartment complex or to go to a twenty four hour convenience store for snacks or to just take a long walk on the good side of town and talk about things. It was nice, just to get away from everything, and to have someone to talk to while he did it. Someone who understood what he was going through, because she was in the exact same situation with him. Of course, Carla wasn't Mikasa's birth mother, but after her mother and father were murdered by thugs in the neighboring town, Carla had immediately treated Mikasa no different than if she were her own daughter. Her cancerous state was just as painful for Mikasa as it was for Eren. Eren's father, although he was the one who took her in, was always a little distant from Eren and Mikasa. The man wasn't to blame, not really, but his job demanded long hours and dedication. On top of that, he had to work overtime to help pay off Carla's medical expenses. It would probably be eleven PM before Eren and Mikasa could get out of the house, but they were willing to wait.