Work Text:
The floor is cold beneath her. The rope makes her wrists ache.
She can hear the men talking about her, discussing their plans.
They’re going to sell her off.
Distantly, Mikasa knows that this is something she doesn’t want. Her life will become hell, but she can’t imagine a pit deeper than the one she’s in right now.
Gore spatters in her mind, a macabre painting.
All she can see is her father falling back, hands clutching at a wound in his stomach from which blood pours.
There’s no hope. He can’t stop the bleeding.
The axe coming down on her mother with a spray of blood.
“Run, Mikasa. RUN!”
She didn’t run.
She was frozen, watching her mother’s life spill out on the floor.
Her muscles give a jerky twitch and a whimper bleeds from her throat.
The men take no notice of her.
Nothing matters anymore.
She isn’t living.
Just existing.
“She won’t come out of the room. She won’t eat. I don’t know what to do anymore, Carla.”
His father’s hushed whispers reach Eren’s ears. He knows the words aren’t meant for him to hear, that that’s why they’ve holed themselves up in their bedroom, but he can’t bring himself to feel guilty for eavesdropping.
His mother says something in return. Eren can’t quite catch her response.
He backs away.
There’s no point in staying put any longer and running the risk of getting caught and since he can’t hear anyways, what would be the point?
“What about Eren?”
His name gives him pause, but only briefly.
The hesitation in his mother’s voice… he knows what she’s asking about and his lips twist into a frown.
Eren slips away.
He doesn’t want to hear it. It’s the same thing anyways.
Do you have any idea what you did…?!
His father had looked so scared and Eren couldn’t understand why.
Those men… They were worse than animals, weren’t they?
Worse than the bullies who hit Armin.
His mother had cried when his father had told her. She had hugged him tight and her tears had dripped onto his neck.
She had hugged them both. Even if Mikasa had gone limp. She hadn't reacted at all.
The hand that had been so steady when driving the knife into the man’s gut trembles now.
There are fresh-baked rolls in a basket in the kitchen. Eren takes two of them, crushing them so tightly the crust splits. They’re warm and soft- the smell that wafts up to his nostrils through the broken crust is nothing short of heavenly.
He feels halfway guilty for the theft. Food can be hard to come by.
He is, however, certain he’ll be forgiven this one time.
Eventually, he’s sure they’ll come up with a more permanent arrangement, but for now Mikasa is staying in his room.
He shoves the door open without any sense of decorum, then regrets it for half a second.
The regret fades when he sees Mikasa curled on the bed, her back against the wall. Her arms are wrapped protectively around herself. Her face is buried in her knees.
She doesn’t move at all.
Eren has no idea what he can do in the face of… this.
“Hey.”
No reaction.
She’s not looking at him and the lack of any movement scares him.
It’s not… People aren’t meant to be that still.
Even Armin- quiet Armin who can barely keep up most days- isn’t like this.
Something is broken and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
He drops the bread in front of her and plants both hands on the bedspread. “Hey!” Louder this time.
She gasps and jerks away from him, eyes wide and fixed on his face like some kind of hunted animal.
Eren pulls back, yanking his hands away.
“Sorry! I’m… I’m sorry.”
Mikasa still has the red scarf around her neck, he notices. A trembling hand reaches up and clutches at it, pulling it tighter to hide her face.
He doesn’t know how to deal with this.
Slowly, Eren climbs onto the bed beside her. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her the whole time.
Once, Armin had found an injured cat while they had played. It had hissed and hunched its back, refusing to let either one of them close enough to help it.
Instead of leaving it alone to die, they had come running back to the house for Eren’s mother. She had approached it carefully, her progress inching along at a snail’s pace.
It had hissed and spit at her too, but eventually, she was allowed close enough to help it.
This is sort of like that, he supposes.
Mikasa doesn’t react to him being on the bed, so he guesses that it must be alright. She knows he won’t hurt her.
Or maybe she just remembers that he was the one who saved her.
And… well, she saved him as well.
A little ruefully, he rubs at his neck. The bruises have mostly faded, but he still catches his mother staring at them, face stricken.
He sits with his back against the wall.
“Here.” He picks up one of the rolls and holds it out to her. “You need to eat.”
The scarf lowers and Mikasa peeks at him, eyes wary.
“I told you you need to fight if you want to live, right?” Maybe bringing up that moment isn’t exactly the right thing to do here. “You need to eat too. Here.”
Eren stretches his hand a little farther.
A pale and shaking hand reaches tentatively back. She takes the bread from him and withdraws her hand, clutching it to her chest.
Well, that’s a start. Only she doesn’t eat. She just holds it like it’s something precious.
Impatient, Eren opens his mouth to tell her it won’t do her much good unless she eats it.
“You killed them,” she says and her voice is so quiet. “You killed them for me. Why?”
“They were going to kill you. Or worse,” Eren says honestly, but he looks away. He isn’t sure how to define the feeling that starts to squirm in his gut. It’s not regret. He’s sure of it. But… discomfort? Maybe. “They weren’t people. They were animals.”
They’d looked a lot like people though.
He’d said that to his father. He hadn’t liked it much.
His mother hadn’t liked it either, the stricken look in her eyes telling him as much even when she couldn’t say it herself.
Eren won’t- can’t- bring himself to look at Mikasa to see if she doesn’t like it much either.
“Only animals would do what they did,” he says, his tone a little more forceful.
It’s true, he thinks.
People don’t attack a family and leave the parents bleeding and broken on the floor.
People don’t take the child away and plan to do unspeakable things to her.
Only animals do.
He’d said this to Armin, who had looked thoughtful when he replied, “I think people only do that when they don’t have souls.”
Eren doesn’t think about souls much. Maybe Armin is right.
A small sound has his attention snapping back to Mikasa.
She’s hunched over around herself, shoulders shaking with tiny sobs. She wipes the back of her hand across her face.
“H-hey!” Eren scrambles to his knees, a little panicked. He pats her on the shoulder, attempting to solicit a response.
If possible, Mikasa curls into a tighter ball.
“D-don’t cry. Stop crying.”
He’s not good at this. He doesn’t want her to cry- it hurts to see her cry-but he has no idea what he’s supposed to do about it.
He’s taken by surprise when she reaches out and latches onto his arm with a death grip.
“What…?” Eren jerks his head back as Mikasa falls forward against his chest with a sob.
Slowly, his free arm comes to wrap around her back and he rests his head against her hair.
And Eren… breathes.
He doesn’t say anything. Just lets Mikasa’s arm tighten about his waist. Listens to her muffled sobs.
Shuts his eyes and maybe feels some of his own tears slide down his face.
He doesn’t know what to do, but maybe… maybe this will do just fine.