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Chapter Text

Straining against his seatbelt Eren curled in on himself, knees to his chest and arms crossed tightly. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have an excuse for scrunching into a petulant ball. The entire backseat was stuffed with his parents’ things, his father’s medical bag digging painfully into his hip. There was only just enough room on his left for Mikasa. Tentatively, she wound her hand through the numerous bags until she could find his, then squeezed. Her skin was warm.

Eren’s mom noticed the movement. She turned from the passenger seat, trying to smile at them both.

“Oh, Eren.” She sighed. “Are you still pouting?”

“Let him be, Kalura. He’ll come around once he sees how gorgeous our new home is.”

“Grisha. Really.”

“I don’t care about the house,” Eren muttered. His head shot up from where he’d stuffed it between his arms. An angry streak of red marred his forehead. “I liked our old house!”

“Eren.” His mom twisted further, trying to reach out to him over the seat. Eren just curled himself away. “We’ve been over this. That place was a money pit. I’m still shocked it didn’t fall down around our heads.” She grinned tightly over at Grisha, trying to lighten the mood. “Honestly. I used to have nightmares about the kitchen beams collapsing. I was trapped under them, my legs crushed.” She shuddered.

Grisha shook his head. “No creaky beams at this place, dear. Besides, Eren, you know we need to move for my new job. Couldn’t have kept the old place if we wanted to.”

“That’s—” Eren pounded the seat with one hand, his other still gripping Mikasa’s. “That doesn’t even make sense, Dad! You’re a doctor. Shouldn’t you have stayed with your patients?”

“Doctoring doesn’t work that way. Our village was too small. Sometimes you have to move to where the profit is. Even doctors need to make money.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Eren!” His mom’s ponytail whipped sharply against the window as she turned to chastise him.

“It is. If I were a doctor I wouldn’t just leave people because I wasn’t making money. You abandoned them, Dad. What about Mrs. Panetta? Or Hannes? He’s a war hero! Who’s going to take care of him now?”

“There are plenty of other excellent physicians to look after Hannes, Eren.” His father sighed. “And don’t romanticize the war. You know it upsets your mother.” He reached across the seat to squeeze his wife’s leg.

“I liked our old neighborhood,” Eren insisted, returning to his cocoon.

“Right. Which is why you had so many friends there.”

“Grisha!”

“It’s true, Kalura. The boy needs to learn to spend five minutes with someone else his age, preferably without getting into a fight.”

Eren emerged once more to counter with, “I have Mikasa.” He tightened his fingers in hers.

“She’s your sister.”

“Not technically.”

Eren turned to said sister as his parents continued bickering, mouthing a quick ‘sorry.’ She just shrugged, slinking down into her own cocoon of red scarf. It was nearly ninety degrees out, but Eren knew she’d never take it off. He’d even caught her coming out of the bath with it once, the wool still wrapped tightly around her neck and the fringe soaked with water. It wasn’t worth worrying about though. It wasn’t as if the scarf hadn’t gotten soaked before.

“There, kids. Look!”

The siblings jerked at their mother’s voice. As the car rounded the bend the ocean came into view, a massive strip of blue far off to their left. Eren saw Mikasa stiffen slightly, felt the same emotion reflected in his own body, so he shoved aside the medical bag and a box of shoes to get closer to her. He tucked the scarf closer against her skin.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

Mikasa had never been comfortable around the ocean, and Eren definitely couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t like he was any better. Three years ago he and his parents had been at the beach, taking a vacation that they really weren’t able to afford. Eren couldn’t have been more grateful that they’d splurged though. He’d followed his father down to the sand for a midnight walk, Grisha stretching his legs before bed, Eren chucking shells back into the sea. The winds were high that night and he’d been fascinated by the lightening illuminating the waves, a storm slowly rolling in. Grisha had just called to him that they needed to head in when Eren spotted it.

A dot of white.

It was so obvious that Eren wondered how he’d missed it before (and later, he’d wonder if noticing it faster would have made a difference). It was a tiny boat, stark against the water, the sky-blue coloring he’d admired that morning having darkened to black from the storm. His first thought was that whoever was out there needed to get to shore—fast. It took Eren another five, crucial seconds to realize that they couldn’t. The little boat was overturned.

“Dad!”

Grisha realized the implications just moments after his son did. The wind had picked up then, the storm edging closer to the pair, so Grisha had to lean close to be heard. He shook Eren, yelling at him to stay put. Stay here. Grisha ran towards the nearest home, desperate to find help. At the same time Eren took off running for the water.

When he came parallel to the boat Eren realized that it wasn’t nearly as far from shore as he’d originally thought. Sneakers filling with sand he’d thrown himself into the ocean, hardly thinking about how icy the water was, or the fact that he’d only mastered swimming a year or so ago. Eren just sucked in great mouthfuls of air, filled with droplets and bits of salt. He kept clawing forward every time the ocean pulled him in a direction he didn’t want to go. He had to. He had to because he could see her. Even with all the darkness surrounding them Eren could see the boat clearly, a contrast on the water, and the girl’s hair—a rich black that fell past her shoulders—was a sharp contrast to the boat.

Eren swam to her.

When he did reach the girl—choking, weighted down by his clothes—Eren discovered that the only reason she hadn’t been torn away was the rope looped round her wrist, keeping her connected to the boat. Eren had vague memories of trying to see if she was injured, calling up the bits and pieces his father had taught him over the dinner table, but ultimately it was useless. The rain was too hard and the wind was too strong. Eren could only see a long, painful-looking gash along her cheek. He tugged the rope away and pulled her into his arms, hoping hysterically that her neck wasn’t damaged or something equally awful. Eren was so consumed with these currently inconsequential worries that he didn’t even realize why this might be a bad idea. As it was, the second the girl was against him her weight, combined with his, started dragging them down. She was just as tall as him and a whole lot heavier. Eren got a last look at the thundering sky before they both went under.

Then…

Then the next thing he knew they were on the sand, coughing, spluttering, Eren’s father screaming and shaking him. Later his parents would theorize that they must have miraculously washed to shore, but Eren had always thought that was a stupid theory. He’d felt how strong the current was beneath him. They’d been sinking down with no way back up. Besides, cuddled against the girl, Eren’s forehead pressed to hers, it almost seemed as if they’d been… placed like that.

Not that this theory made any more sense.

The next few hours were a mess of yelling and hospital visits. Eren remembered little of it, except for three things: he learned that the girl’s name was Mikasa, that her parents had been on that boat too—and they hadn’t made it to shore, forehead to forehead like they had—and lastly, Eren remembered thinking how cold she must be, shivering so hard she could barely speak. Half sick from cold himself, Eren pulled the sopping red scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around hers, never mind that it had probably made her even colder. Mikasa came home with them that night and she hadn’t taken the scarf off since.

“You don’t have to go swimming or anything,” Kalura amended softly.

After a tense second of silence Mikasa nodded. “I know. But… I’ll go swimming if Eren does.”

Their mom looked hopeful so Eren twitched in what might have been a shrug.

“Maybe.”

Kalura faced the road again and Eren leaned in to give his sister a quick, sloppy kiss. He wasn’t terribly fond of the water anymore either (an understatement, really…) but he’d go in with her. If she wanted. Maybe….Either way, Eren couldn’t actually say he was disappointed as the ocean was once again lost from view. They’d turned onto a side road, winding through a grove of dense trees. Their leaves blocked out a great deal of the sun and Eren shivered, though the temperature of the car hadn’t changed. A little bit of the ocean’s cold still clung to him.

“Grisha, are you sure you know where you’re going?”

“It’s fine, Kalura, this is a shortcut. We’ll save gas.”

Eren rolled his eyes, pressing himself up against Mikasa’s ear. “I bet you a sweet that we’re completely and totally los—wha!”

Both kids tumbled back as the car hit a rough patch, bouncing and shaking them painfully. Eren’s mom latched onto the dashboard while her children dodged falling clothes. His dad just leaned forward, accelerating.

“Dad, what are you—?!”

“Grisha!”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just around this bend—oh! What’s that then?”

Eren and Mikasa were thrown against the back of their parents’ seats as the car came to a sudden stop. Groaning, Eren peered past his mom and saw that they’d just avoided hitting some sort of rock sitting in the middle of the path. Directly behind it was a huge, old-looking tunnel.

“What sort of stupid person puts a rock there?” Eren muttered.

Mikasa popped up behind him. “It’s a shrine,” she said. She poked his cheek when Eren just stared at her. “Some people believe that spirits inhabit them.”

“Very good, Mikasa. How ‘bout we get a closer look?”

“Yeah!” Eren scrambled after his father, unwilling to be left behind. His mom was already calling for them both back but if they had to move someplace new they should at least get some adventure out of it. His dad had always understood that better than his mom.

“C’mon, Mikasa.” Eren urged. He turned and saw that she was still in the car, her butt in the air as she dug for something in the very back. After a second though she came scurrying out too, leaving their mom to sigh and follow. Mikasa unfurled her fingers to show Eren a small, wrapped chocolate.

“Here,” she said. “We’re very lost.”

Eren laughed. He stuffed the chocolate in his pant’s pocket and the two of them ran to catch up.

“You can’t really mean to go in there,” Kalura was saying. A strong breeze blew through, mussing her hair. She wrapped both arms around her waist and pursed her lips. “Grisha, please. It feels like… like something’s pulling us in.”

“Oh come now. You kids want to take a look, don’t you?”

“Yeah!” Eren said again. He was feeling better than he’d had all day. After seeing his enthusiastic response Mikasa also nodded in agreement. Only Kalura continued to edge away.

“You’re welcome to wait in the car, dear.”

“No way. You three aren’t leaving me alone here.”

“Just a quick peek then. I promise.”

So the four of them began making their way through the tunnel, their world growing darker the further in they went. Grisha lead while Mikasa walked behind him, scanning the ground for anything they might trip on. Eren and Kalura brought up the rear.

“Mooooom. Don’t cling so much.”

Luckily they quickly entered another building, one brightened by stained glass windows, and like magic Kalura’s grip loosened from Eren’s arm. By the time they’d come out on the other side she was nothing but smiles.

“Oh wow… would you kids look at this.”

Even Eren had to admit that the view was pretty spectacular. He and Mikasa came together, staring out across the vast field of grass. It seemed to go on forever, disturbed only by a long bed of rocks that acted as a boundary. Beyond that was a cluster of buildings and, beyond that, a forest so large the trees dwarfed the ones they’d driven through to get here. Eren quickly closed his mouth even as his mom bemoaned the fact that they hadn’t brought their lunch with them. It was the perfect spot for a picnic.

“See this, Eren? Mikasa?” Their dad drew their attention back to the building behind them. He rested a palm against the wall and a bit of paint peeled away. “It’s an old amusement park. They built of a ton of them in the early nineties—a way to boost morale during the war—but once the economy tanked they had to shut them all down. I treated a trapeze artist once who’d taken a nasty fall. He did good business, up until he busted his leg of course.”

Talk of the war made Eren think of Hannes: how he would have loved the titling structure behind them and the fascinatingly misshaped buildings Eren could just see in the distance. But thinking of Hannes caused Eren’s stomach to churn unpleasantly. So what if he couldn’t stand anymore, or he drank a little too much during the day? So what if the other men claimed he cheated them in cards? (But never to he face; he was, still, a hero). Hannes had never cheated Eren and up until he’d met Mikasa he was the only friend he’d had.

Not that his parents agreed. A jaded soldier three times his age and an adopted sister didn’t equal friends in their book.

Eren could feel himself beginning to sulk until something tumbled into his back. He turned to find Mikasa grasping at his shirt. She nodded towards the building and gave a little shiver.

“I heard it moaning,” she said.

“What…?”

“Eren! Mikasa!” Both kids jumped. Their parents were far ahead, Grisha waving and Kalura laughing, trying to keep her skirt from blowing upwards. “Don’t you want to keep going? I think I smell food.”

“Okay!” Eren called, only to hesitate. Mikasa’s fingers were still digging into his skin. “You don’t want to go?”

She shook her head against his shoulder blades.

“Want to go wait back by the car?”

Another shake.

“Okay, well, I want to keep going, but you can hold my hand if you want.” So the two siblings jogged hand-in-hand to catch up, Eren tugging Mikasa hurriedly through the tall grass. It had always been like this, ever since they’d met. Eren wanted to go everywhere: up that tree, over those rocks, through that neighbor’s fence (even though he knew it wasn’t allowed). A lecture and no dinner was well worth it. After all, there was a whole big world to explore. Eren didn’t understand the people who didn’t want to see it. That was the only thing worthwhile about moving—at least now there was more to see.

Eren had realized quickly though that Mikasa was kinda-sorta-almost one of those no-adventures people. She much preferred helping their Mom with the boring house stuff like shelling peas or weaving little pictures out of yarn. What Mikasa liked even more than quiet though was Eren, so she gave all that up just to stay by his side. She trailed him like a shadow, quiet and unassuming. The only time he’d ever seen her truly animated (beyond that night—beyond bobbing in the water and shrieking in the hospital for Mama) was when a couple local boys had decided to pick a fight. Or rather, they’d accepted Eren’s invitation for a fight. Either way, with one boy pinning him and another digging into his hair, Eren had screamed for Mikasa to fight—fight so that they could win. She had, landing a surprisingly solid punch that gave them the advantage, but that didn’t mean she’d liked the feeling of another’s tooth dislodging under her knuckles. Quickly enough the other kids had realized that the new Yeager girl would defend her brother if she had to… and they backed off. In return Eren tried to spend that winter sitting by the fireside like he knew Mikasa wanted, yet only an hour later he was dragging her out into the snow, chattering about three things while working up to a fourth. He didn’t think she minded, much, but he did try not to tug too hard.

“C’mon you slow pokes,” Kalura said. She was balanced on a long bed of rocks, her soft shoes slipping between them.

“What is this place?” Eren asked. He and Mikasa started making their own way across. Neither of their legs were really long enough and they had to pull one another in turn. Eren’s fingers caught in the fringe of Mikasa’s scarf, the wool itchy against his warm skin.

Grisha was already on the other bank. He tilted his nose high into the air. “Looks like they’d planned to build a river at some point… oh wow, do you smell that? I’m glad we forgot lunch. I’ll have whatever they’re having.”

“Where is it even coming from?” Kalura huffed as she jumped the final rock to join him.

“Not sure. Somewhere up ahead. Maybe this park is still in business. Hurry up now!”

Eren did hurry, Mikasa tripping behind him. They cleared the dry river and as they did Eren thought he felt a tingle run along his arms, down the column of his back, and over the arches of his feet. It felt like he always imagined an electric current would—only softer. Like the long, black strands of hair that fell when Mikasa brushed her hair. They’d cling to Eren, nearly invisible, tickling him without permission. The feeling was a bit like that too. Only it was gone faster, and felt heavier. There was a weight to this feeling he couldn’t quite place. Still, there was little time to think on it. Their parents were still too far ahead and Eren could now smell the food for himself.

“That’s dumplings,” he said, picturing the ones his mother made.

“Really?” She asked. Kalura breathed in deeply. “I smell something sweet.”

“Caramel.” Mikasa agreed.

“Maybe there’s—” but Eren stopped, whatever he’d been about to say lost in an excited gasp. The buildings beyond the river were dark, their paint just as thin as the one they’d come from. The ones beyond were vibrant though. Colorful in a way he’d never expected. Eren could see walls painted orange and blue and starfish pink. Signs swung in the midday breeze, sporting various exclamations in thickly painted brushstrokes. He couldn’t quite read them—the wind was growing stronger now—but there was so much more to look at. Architecture was as far from Eren’s interests as possible, but he could still appreciate the invitingly narrow crawl spaces; the towers so high above his head they just begged to be climbed. He counted three strings of lanterns drawn between the buildings—thick twine that had a decent chance of holding his weight—and that was just this one street. Eren could see more stretching out before him and he was just about to charge forward when Grisha spoke.

“Here it is!”

Sure enough, one stall to their left was emanating heat. A stoked fire bellowed smoke out over giant platters of food.

Eren, along with the rest of his family, felt his mouth watering in anticipation.

Chapter Text

Mouth hanging open, it suddenly hit Eren that every building here fell into a theme.

Mikasa nodded. She had a habit of reading his thoughts.

“They’re all restaurants,” she murmured.

“But why?”

She shrugged, her own eyes rising to the signs. One settled for a moment, fighting against the wind, and Eren was finally able to read the word “Dumplings” on it in curvy writing. For some reason the fact that he’d been right didn’t make him very happy. He nudged Mikasa.

“What’s the word when things happen together that maybe don’t really have a reason for happening together?” he asked.

“Coincidence.”

“Yeah, that. It’s a coincidence.”

“Maybe.” But Mikasa didn’t sound very convinced.

“Kids!” Grisha waved with a drumstick. Eren was startled to find that he already had two plates filled. When had they sat down? His Mom was eating at a more sedate pace but even her one plate was overflowing. He’d never seen her take so much before. Eat what you have first; you can always go back for seconds. That was the rule in their house. Unbidden, Eren felt his cheeks heating with anger as his Mother sloshed a bit of meat into a jar of mustard. A small fleck landed on her blouse.

“You’re going to choke!” he yelled.

Adding insult to injury, his father laughed. Something that looked too much like a bone flew out of his mouth and landed beyond the counter. “Well if she does choke luckily there’s a doctor here to save her.”

“Don’t be like that, Grisha,” Kalura scolded. Her voice was barely recognizable, stuffed as it was with food. “Sit down, Eren. It’s out first lunch in our new home after all.”

“This isn’t home.”

“Eren.” His father’s own voice was muffled with some sort of chicken, but the authority behind it was familiar.

“You shouldn’t even be eating that!” He tried, and it was probably true. There was no one to wait on them or provide them with a bill. In fact, Eren hadn’t seen anyone else since they’d set foot in this park. The isolation now felt threatening rather than exciting and Mikasa seemed to think the same because her hand found his again. It wasn’t the easy hold they maintained daily either. Her muscles tightened against his, like they did when they were near water.

“This is wrong.” Eren tried again. “You can’t just take food, Dad. That’s stealing!”

“We can pay later. That’s what credit cards are for. What’s gotten into you, Eren? Listen to your mother and come over here.”

The word ‘no’ was nearly out before Eren bit down on it—hard. Honestly, he didn’t know what had gotten into him. The food still smelled wonderful: meat and hot soup and the sweet bread he’d only ever been given on special occasions. There was a whole tray of steaks sitting untouched further down the counter and no one, certainly not Eren, would try to argue that he didn’t like steak. But every time he went to step forward he saw his parents gobbling more food. He wondered how they could breathe. He wondered if he were to sit down, if there would even be any food left for him to eat. Though in truth, the endless platters answered that question pretty easily.

“The servings,” Mikasa began. The words hissed out between her teeth. “They’re not getting any small—”

“Honey!” Kalura interrupted. “Look. You were right.” She waved a caramel apple triumphantly in the air, pausing only the briefest moment before taking a big bite. Eren thought she’d go back to her lunch but she snatched another one up just as quick, beckoning to Mikasa.

“Mikasa, don’t—”

But if there was one person Mikasa adored more than Eren, it was her adoptive mother. Casting an apologetic look back she shuffled forward, obediently taking the apple in hand. Under Kalura’s insistent encouragement Mikasa took the smallest of bites. The caramel dripped golden onto her chin.

“Fine!” Irrationally angry, Eren turned away. Raising his head he spotted smoke billowing above their heads, dark against the blue sky—the perfect excuse. “I’m going to see what that is. Don’t bother waiting up.”

He ran, sneakers pounding hard against the cobblestones. Eren didn’t care if his family—even Mikasa—wanted to stuff their faces instead of listening to him. They weren’t worth looking back at. Though if he had, Eren might have noticed Mikasa’s eyes widening with a strange reverence and her mouth opening for a second bite.

He followed the lanterns down past restaurant after restaurant, the street beginning to slope beneath him. Eren took the steps three at a time and only growled a bit when he lost his balanced, skinning his palms. He got up again and ran faster, nearly locking his knees with the length of his strides. Following the smoke Eren rounded a corner and jumped a broken cobblestone, adding a burst of speed when the black clouds began to cover the sky, now just a slit above him as he took a detour between two buildings. A left, two more rights, and then finally—

“… oh.”

It was a bathhouse.

Eren stopped so suddenly he nearly fell forward again but he grabbed the railing of a huge bridge at the last second, a splinter working its way into his thumb. Picking at it, he tipped his head all the way back and sucked in an impressed breath.

The bathhouse was huge. It was definitely larger than any of the other buildings around and all at once, in a flood that sent his skin tingling, Eren’s anger was replaced with excitement. This place was awesome. Fantastic even! He’d run back and grab Mikasa, drag her away if he had to, because this was five million, billion times better than whatever she was doing. Mom would love the architecture of the place, Eren was sure, and maybe Dad could pay for the food they’d eaten here. Surely the smoke meant people, right?

Grinning, Eren launched himself at a side gate, peeking below. With a disappointed huff he found only a grassy plane but, beyond that, and out far from the bathhouse itself, was that forest. Eren had noticed the trees when they’d first arrived but now, a little closer, he could see that they were far larger than he’d originally thought. Darkness edged between the limbs and Eren itched to go exploring. Though Dad would kill him if he wandered off too far, so… awesome bathhouse first.

Eren turned with the intention of starting another sprint. However, there was the little problem of another boy blocking his path.

At least, Eren thought he was a boy.

He was short enough. Eren himself hadn’t exactly hit his final growth spurt but this guy only came up to his nose. Still, there was something poised about him. Like he never got dirty in the backyard… or went falling down a flight of stairs. Eren glanced down at his red palms. Compared to his own scruffy appearance this guy was immaculate, dressed in a white tunic, blue pants, and—weird—some sort of fancy napkin thing around his neck. He definitely didn’t stand like a kid either and his eyes were fiercely narrowed. At first Eren thought it just made him look sleepy but after a second he decided there was more intimidation there than anything else. Even his haircut was severe—bowled in the front and shaved at the back. Giving the guy another once over Eren’s eyes widened. Okay, wow. That wasn’t just a sash around his waist. He was carrying swords.

It was also pretty unnerving that, you know, Eren was sure this guy hadn’t been on the bridge a second ago.

“Uh… hey. I’m—”

“What are you doing here?” The guy’s voice was a monotone but Eren jumped all the same. He trampled the impulse to pull a clumsy salute, the kind with his arm across his heart like Hannes had taught him. Whoever this guy was, he was used to being obeyed.

Before Eren could decide whether to salute or grovel or throw a punch of his own, the guy caught him around the midsection and started dragging them both back towards the shops. Eren dug his sneakers between the boards but it was no use. This guy was strong too.

“What are you doing!” He flailed, only succeeding in jabbing the handle of a sword between his ribs. Eren let out a frustrated cough. “Bastard!”

“Well, well. Big word for a shitty brat.”

“I’m taller than you!”

“Not for long. Want me to cut you off below the knees?”

Eren froze, again hearing the clink of those swords. The guy tossed him and Eren went rolling back onto the dirt, lying between the boards of the bridge and the cobblestones of the streets. He looked up just in time to see the guy wiping his hand on a bit of cloth, mouth fixing into a grimace.

“Disgusting.” He muttered. “For fuck’s sake. Go home and take a bath.”

“Hey, I’m not—” but whatever defense Eren was about to give was lost when the short guy stiffened, looking for all the world like Eren must have when he thought he was about to be sliced like a well-caught fish. That was more than enough to shut him up.

“It’s almost night,” the guy said. Eren sat up.

“What are you talking about? It’s lunch!”

Shorty whirled on him, causing Eren to scramble back.

“You think that matters here, brat? It’s night when he says it’s night and he—ah fuck.” They both turned toward the bathhouse. Eren’s eyes widened. Sure enough, the sky was darkening at a rapid pace and little pinpricks of light were starting to appear. “They’re lighting the lamps. You need to leave, brat. Now.”

“But…”

“Now!” The guy lengthened his stance, drawing both swords out with a hiss of metal against cloth. Eren gapped at them. He’d never seen a sword in real life, let alone two, let alone a pair that was so weird. They weren’t pointed at the ends like he’d have expected. They just cut off at about four feet, leaving the tops as square as the rest of the blade. They still looked wicked sharp though. Swallowing hard, Eren watched as an edge glinted in the dying light. Who was this guy?

“—gonna skin my hide for this.” The guy was saying, presumably to himself. “I can try to hold them off though, at least for a little while and… fucking hell are you still here? Move, kid!”

That was all Eren needed. He dug his hands into the dirt and pulled himself up. Kicking up more dust he pumped his way back towards the restaurants.

There had been something about the way the guy had said that word: kid. Not like how his parents said it or even how Mikasa sometimes called him silly. It was faith without the tenderness. If Eren had been unconvinced that this guy wasn’t as young as he looked… not anymore. No one said “kid” like that unless they really were older. A lot older. And no one said “run” in that voice unless they were overprotective like his mom… or there really was something to run from. Eren didn’t think this stranger loved him after five seconds of threats and insults so… yeah, he was running.

Eren was running so fast, in fact, that it took him a while to notice the ghosts. At least, “ghost” seemed like the best word available. What else did you call something you could run through?

With a shout he wasn’t at all ashamed of releasing Eren tumbled through the… ghost. Thing. It wasn’t entirely see-through and for a moment his world went black as an oil spill. It was cold too, just like what they described in the movies. Or maybe that was the entire park because Eren didn’t feel any warmer when he’d managed to skitter away.

It was pitch black now—night.

“Mom!” Eren shouted. He drew in great lungful’s of air. “Mommy! Mikasa!”

All the lanterns were lit now but their light cast an eerie glow. The streets looked too much alike. Eren wasn’t sure he was heading in the right direction and the ghosts were multiplying by the second. They crowded around him, a black oozy barrier, though luckily they floated by leisurely, allowing Eren to dodge. Eyes like dinner plates he noticed that most were seated at the restaurants’ counters and the rest were heading towards spots of their own. Eren balled his hands into fists.

“This is so stupid!” he screamed. “Ghosts don’t eat! You’re stupid, stupid, stupid and I want my mommy! Daddy!”

He was preparing for another scream, tears starting to leak down his cheeks, when Eren noticed a sign reading, “Dumplings.” That was it. The tears really did start then because that was it. He knew that sign, and his family was right—

There.

Skidding to a stop Eren let out a strangled whimper. “Mommy?”

That wasn’t his mommy though.

The restaurant had been demolished, as had the two on either side of it. Amidst the rubble were three creatures so tall they towered over the remaining buildings. Loose limbed and entirely naked, their hands were the size of tractors and their mouths were twice the size of their hands. Eren watched, horrified, as they continued to dig through the debris, tossing food and wood alike down their throats. He didn’t see them chew, only snap their teeth shut with sickening cracks. Their feeding was almost mechanical in its repetition, mindless. Eren didn’t know how long he stood there, watching them devour everything nearby, but when he finally breathed again his chest burned from lack of air.

It was then that Eren started noticing the similarities. One creature, larger than the other two, was scooping waste into his mouth with both hands. As he did colorful things too high up for Eren to identify got stuck in its beard; a beard that looked remarkably like the one his father sported. “Maturity,” he’d said to Eren, years ago. “I look older with a beard, son, and people are more willing to trust a doctor with more candles on his cake. You like it?” He hadn’t. His dad’s hair was thin and the ‘beard’ hardly covered his upper lip. Now though… now it had really filled out.

Feeling his hands beginning to shake Eren turned to the monster beside the one that looked like his father. It was the smallest of the three and there was absolutely nothing similar there: a squat body, pointed teeth, eyes swirling wildly, greasy hair sticking to its cheeks. Except that, looking closer, Eren saw a scrap of something caught in that hair. He told himself that it didn’t resemble a bit of shredded red scarf.

“Mikasa?” he asked.

The tiny monster didn’t turn but the third one did. Thinner than the other two it had his mother’s hair, a straight cut that landed just at its chin. For a split, insane second Eren thought to himself, ‘Yes. This is my mother,’ and then the thing smiled at him. It was a grin that spread across the entirety of its face, pinching its cheeks and showcasing far too many teeth. With a strange grunt the thing sank to its knees and reached out a hand towards Eren.

He ran.

Eren sprinted, even faster than the first, second, or third times before. He had a straight shot back to the car and he took it, all the while maintaining a steady litany under his breath:

“That’s not Mommy. That’s not Mommy. That’s not Mikasa. Or Daddy. Not Mommy, not Mommy, it’s a dream. Only a dream. Just a stupid, fucking—”

Eren rarely cursed. His mother—his real mother—would never allow it, though that didn’t mean Hannes hadn’t taught him a thing or two. This time it wasn’t even a conscious decision. The word was pulled from him with a gasp as Eren’s shoes met not the hard bed of rocks he was expecting, but water. Bewildered and half blinded by tears he finally looked up from the ground, eyes trained on his sneakers so he wouldn’t have to see more monsters or ghosts or anything else. His shoes were soaked. The Velcro was already coming loose. That made sense though, as much as anything else did. For the dried up river wasn’t quite so dry anymore. It had also gotten a whole hell of a lot bigger.

“I’m dreaming,” Eren insisted. His hands came up to fist into his hair. “I’m definitely, definitely dreaming.”

But even as he said it a part of Eren—the part that had him admitting to broken pots and stolen cookies before they’d even been noticed—knew that this was definitely something, just not a dream. He knew because if it was he’d have swum away. You could do that in dreams. Crazy things like dive into a river that hadn’t been there minutes before, during a night that had come in the middle of the day, and somehow make it to shore with just a child’s strength. And surely, whatever lay ahead was better than what was behind, right? Yet Eren couldn’t move. Dumbly, he felt himself sinking down onto the grass. He looked out on the water and all he could see was Mikasa’s body, thumping against a boat that shone amidst a storm. Eren wouldn’t go into that water, he couldn’t, and that knowledge made his situation all too real.

“I’m dreaming,” he said and knew it to be a lie.

Crouching to the ground Eren ducked his head between his knees, still desperate to find a simple, logical way out of this. Squeezing his eyes shut didn’t work. Nor did (again and again) acknowledging that it was (not) a dream. Then, when Eren went to pinch his arm… he found that it was steaming.

With a cry he rolled backwards, waving his arm frantically in the air. It was literally steaming, thick clouds pouring off his skin at a rapid rate. Acting on instinct Eren flung himself on his stomach again, crawled towards the water, and dunked him arm into its depths. He didn’t feel anything other than the cold of the river but his arm let out a sound, a hiss like when Mikasa dropped hot oil onto a pan. Despite that—and logic—steam still poured off of Eren even under the water. Tentatively he drew his arm back out. It didn’t hurt, but when he moved to pass a hand through the steam he drew back with a hiss of his own. It was hot. Really hot.

Maybe Eren could have dealt with a steaming arm even on top of everything else, but then his leg started too. It was a tiny curl of white near his sock… that was steadily growing bigger. Sensing something behind him Eren stretched and thought that some might be coming from his back too.

“Stop it!” He demanded, though of course it didn't listen.

Eren had been so wrapped up in his own dilemma that he hardly noticed what was going on around him. He jumped when a loud ‘bang’ sounded from behind—the sound of wood on hard earth. Eren was only aware that his mouth was hanging open when a gnat brushed against his tongue. Spluttering, Eren took in the ferry that had shown up a little ways down the bank. It wasn’t its existence he found so shocking, nor even its sudden (impossible) appearance. No, it was that there were more ghosts aboard, pouring out onto the grass. Dressed in a variety of robes and masks, Eren thought with a helpless giggle that at least this lot had better fashion sense. He also thought that this would be another appropriate time to curse.

“Forget this,” Eren said and turned in the opposite direction. Wet, steaming, and crying in fear, Eren ran one more time and charged up the grassy slope behind him.

Chapter Text

Eren found a silent corner all to himself. He’d run away from the ghosts pouring off of the ferry, back towards the restaurants and the formless, darker ghosts that haunted those rooms. The wall of the nearest building was cool against his back and the grass was dewy under his legs. It was a wonderful contrast to the steam that was still pouring off of Eren’s body. Huddled into a ball and there his form was nearly obscured by that white cloud. He didn’t know anymore if it was sweat or tears that ran down his cheeks.

Eren told himself he’d get up any minute. After all, he had people to beat up. Maybe even a lot of people. Whoever had done… that to his family was going to get it bad. Even worse than Davey, who’d only called his mom that name because he’d heard it from Rian the day before. Even knowing that, Eren had still forced his arm into the drainage pipe until it stuck. So yeah, this would be so much worse. And he would find the people who were responsible, just as soon as he got his face dry. Any minute now.

The steam was getting thicker though. Thick enough that Eren didn’t realize someone was there until a hand clamped around his wrist.

“Lemme go, you creep!” Eren thrashed, dissipating a lot of the mist around him. When it cleared enough he realized that he knew they guy manhandling him. It was shorty.

“You!”

“Yeah, brat. Me.” Up close Eren wondered how he’d ever thought this guy was young. The circles under his eyes were small craters. “Didn’t I tell you to get the fuck out of here?”

“I—”

“Tried no doubt.” The guy’s expression didn’t change, but the fingers around Eren’s wrist loosened slightly. “He called the river faster than your shrimpy legs could get you across, huh?”

Despite it all, Eren felt his eyes narrowing. “I’m still taller than you.”

“Fuck you, brat.”

“And I’m not leaving without my parents. Or Mikasa!”

“Yeah, yeah just… shit. I’m not a babysitter, alright? Use that gob of yours for something other than yapping.” The guy dug around in his sash. As he did Eren got a better look at those swords and was surprised to see that they were immaculate. Hadn’t the guy said that he was going to defend him? There wasn’t a speck on the pair.

“Here,” He held out what Eren could only assume was a bit of food. It was blue and round, about a third the size of a gobstopper. The guy nodded.

“You need to eat some food from our world or else you’ll dissipate completely.” Eren sucked in a breath and looked down at his arm. It didn’t look any less there but the steam was coming off his shoulder now too. “It tastes like a three week old dump but you do what you gotta do.” He started trying to force the blue thing down Eren’s throat.

It was true that he was still steaming but Eren was also getting a clearer picture of everything that was going on, or at least the danger he was in. Here he was without parents or sister, surrounded by ghosts, and stranded. To top it off some crazy guy with swords was trying to feed him something that—indeed—smelled like literal shit. Eren decided that if ever there was a time to implement the, “Don’t Take Candy From Strangers” rule, it was now.

“I’m not eating that,” he said.

The guy’s face scrunched like a lemon.

“Yes you are, dipshit.”

“I’m not!”

“Remember cutting you down to size? That’s still an option.”

Eren just tilted his chin up and sealed his lips. It was odd really. He had no desire to take food from this guy but at the same time he didn’t think he’d really hurt him. He was still holding Eren’s wrists, yeah, but the touch wasn’t painful. If Eren wanted to, he could run.

Shorty raised his eyes to the sky. Then he slumped a little. Then he gritted his teeth. “For fuck’s, fucking sake, brat. Do you want to die?—No. Don’t answer that. Just eat the goddamn food before I shove it down your throat. Or better yet, we’ll take the shorter route and I’ll shove it up your ass.”

Eren was tempted to point out that if he was supposed to eat the food then that wouldn’t exactly work… but he refrained. “You think I’m stupid, huh?” he said instead and had to talk over the guy opening his mouth—no doubt to agree. “I saw everything! They ate food here and…” Eren sealed his lips again. That didn’t need repeating.

“That food was enchanted.” Shorty said calmly. “This isn’t. Eat.”

“No.” When it looked like he might get a slap Eren bit out, “It’s not like I know I can trust you.” There. Let Shorty talk his way out of that one.

“You’re right. You can’t.”

Eren blinked. “Say what?”

“You can’t trust me.” This guy was too intense. Leaning in close his eyes caught Eren’s own gaze and wouldn’t let go. Black as his eyes were they should have been lost in the darkness, but instead they stood out sharply against the steam, ever growing around them.

“You can’t trust anyone,” he continued, voice still monotone but also… sharper. “Not here. He has eyes everywhere.” Following a small prompt Eren looked up. Even through the smoke he thought he saw something circling up around the stars and he shivered. “So you’ve got two options here, brat. Either take the food or don’t. Either way I’m wiping my hands of you.”

Unbidden Eren felt his whole body beginning to shake and the tears, so many stupid tears, started again. What the hell was he supposed to do? He didn’t trust this guy and apparently he wasn’t supposed to, but who else did he have? No Dad chastising him, no Mom ruffling his hair, no Mikasa to hold his hand. Eren had always thought he’d been okay with being alone, what with so few friends, but he’d never actually been alone. And now? Alone was the very last thing he wanted.

Gently, with salt tears slipping between his lips, Eren opened his mouth.

“There you go, brat.” The words were almost comforting. The guy popped the food onto his tongue and god, it really did taste rancid. Eren struggled to swallow it all. For such a tiny morsel it filled up his mouth unpleasantly.

“See? All fucking better.” Scrubbing his eyes Eren opened them again and gasped. The smoke was nearly gone. The slight breeze on the air blew it away and, as there was no more rising from his skin, Eren could see his friend better now. Well, not exactly a friend, but with his chest still feeling overly tight with the threat of being left alone, Eren was feeling unreasonably grateful.

“Wait,” he murmured. Though Shorty didn’t appear to be going anywhere. He dug into his pant’s pocket and drew out the chocolate Mikasa had given him. It was all mushy from his time in the sun but at least it was something he could give in turn. Eren held it out just as Shorty drew away.

“The fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“You eat it, stupid.” And Eren shoved him, hard. Not that it did any good. It felt like trying to shove a brick wall. Huffing in frustration he tossed the chocolate away so that it landed between their feet. “Whatever,” he said.

Drawing out that cloth again Shorty quickly picked up the melted treat. His nose wrinkled and then his breath morphed into a sigh. “Well this is disgusting,” he said. Yet he proceeded to unwrap it, tucked the foil into his boot, and swallowed the chocolate in one hard gulp. Eren saw him running his tongue over his teeth uneasily.

“Happy now, brat?”

He was, oddly. Not that he’d admit it.

“—better be because I’m not eating that shit aga—” He suddenly stiffened and Eren froze in turn. Lunging so that they were both pressed against the wall Shorty pointed silently. There, up in the sky was another one of those birds but this time Eren could see it clearly. It was a hawk, larger than any he’d seen before. Like a wolf with wings.

“He’s looking for you,” Eren heard muttered against his neck and not for the first time he wondered who this ‘He’ was. “Fuck. Double fuck. ‘Course he’s not satisfied with just your parents and a brat little sister. He’s going to turn you too unless…” His friend trailed off. Eren remained silent. He was a little busy trying to breathe properly.

“So my family really was turned into those… things.” He asked. Stated. Shorty nodded anyway.

Eren had known of course. He’d seen the evidence. Still, that was all a little different from actually hearing it said aloud. Eren didn’t know this guy, but in that moment he was incredibly glad that someone was pressed close to him, comforting unintentionally.

“Come on.” Too soon the body above his drew away. Eren swallowed back the impulse to reach out and demand a hug. He rationalized that such an action would only get him stabbed.

“We need to go,” Shorty insisted and tried to drag Eren to his feet. For a second Eren thought that grief had made him sluggish, but no, his legs were actually stuck.

“I can’t move.”

“Not the time, drama queen.”

“I’m serious!”

Frowning, Shorty bent closer… and then sucked in a breath. “Make that triple fuck. He wants your ass badly, brat, if he’s setting up spells for you to trip through. Watch your step why don’t you.” Before Eren could scream that it was hardly his fault that there were traps set, the guy’s hands were pressing onto his legs. Eren could feel them but it was like the pressure was muted, coming from somewhere far away.

“In the name of the fucking wind and the fucking water you’ve got stuffed in that fucking meat suit of yours, unbind the kid. Now.”

With a grunt Eren was hauled to his feet. “What kind of spell was that?!”

“One that worked, brat. March.”

Then they were running. Not the childish sprint Eren had been indulging in all day but something impossible that felt like flying. He caught glimpses of rundown alleyways before a door was thrown open before them. Not by anyone’s hand, merely through his companion’s commanding gesture. Despite all that he’d seen Eren found himself gaping. Twisting his neck he could just make out the door closing again behind them—equally unaided—before they rounded a sharp corner.

Eren saw many things then, most of which he didn’t want to. There were things creeping through the shadows and lurking at the corner of his vision. They passed through a freezer larger than any other room they’d encountered yet. Eren enjoyed the chill on his skin after all that steam… until he realized that it was packed full of meat. Stupid, he told himself. Of course a freezer has meat. But he couldn’t recognize the cuts and whenever he caught a glimpse of blood Eren had to swallow down bile. He was more than happy to have Shorty pulling him through so quickly.

That is, until they flew into the next room.

Eren let out a strangled squeak when they found themselves between hundreds of those… things. The same things his parents and Mikasa had been turned into. All of them were fenced in with chains and ropes encircling their limbs and even as Eren urged his legs faster he was searching desperately for a glimpse of his family. There were too many though and they looked too similar. There were distinguishing traits, but all had the same lumbering build and snapping maws. Calling up whatever courage was hiding within him, Eren tried to dig his heels into the dirt.

“Wait!” he called. “We have to look for my parents!”

“Not now, brat.” Shorty glanced his way. “Besides, they’re not here. There’s ano—” Then he snapped his mouth closed.

They sprang back out into the open air and Eren tried not to feel too relieved at leaving that room behind.

“Here,” They finally stopped, hidden behind some bushes. Eren realized that he was right back where he’d been an hour or so before: the entrance to the bathhouse, located just beyond the bridge. However, where before there had been nothing but sunlight and silence, now the area was positively bustling with activity. Torches and lanterns were lit, just as Shorty had said they would be. It seemed as if every ghost from the restaurants and down by the river had converged in one place. They made their way steadily towards the baths and Eren could only stare, bug-eyed at their number and variety.

“Listen up, brat.” Shorty’s lips were pressed right against Eren’s ear. “I need to get you inside, though fuck all knows why I’m helping you. So don’t screw things up, yeah? The way you don’t screw things up is by holding your breath.”

“Holding my breath?” Eren parroted. He didn’t much feel like doing that. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to go inside. Shorty picked up on his hesitation.

“You want to live? Get your family back? Then in you go. And yes, brat, hold your breath. I know that’ll be a struggle, what with your love of spouting stupidity, but make a fucking effort, if not for your sake than at least mine.” After a second’s hesitation Shorty huffed and conceded, “You only need to hold it while going across the bridge. If you don’t the spell here will break and every last shit-eating spirit here is going to see you. Understand? Every. Last. One.”

Eren nodded. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he didn’t want that. Besides, it wasn’t as if he actually knew anything about… magic? Spells? Whatever. If this guy said holding his breath would work then Eren would hold it until his lungs exploded. No problem at all.

“You ready, brat?”

“No.”

“Excellent. Move your sorry ass.”

They started walking, Shorty keeping Eren pressed flush against his back. It was a little weird and Eren was more than half tempted to pull away (he’d already had his mushy moment today, he wasn’t a complete baby), but it seemed as if the closeness was keeping off the stares of others. As they walked Eren took in the creatures around him, only now really appreciating the detail, the true diversity of them all. There were things large with tiny beaks and things small with huge, floppy feet. Things in robes and things in slippers and things wearing no clothes at all. They weren’t anything like the ghosts he’d seen back at the restaurants. Where they had been shades of black these beings were full of color. Where they had been silent these things talked up a storm. Eren passed what look like two toads, barely a hair’s breath away, and their calls of “Welcome! Welcome!” rang uncomfortably loud in his ears.

Then they hit the bridge.

“Breath. Now.” Eren sucked a breath in and held it, puffing up his cheeks. It was easy at first. They strolled casually, Eren’s eyes continuing to wander. But the bridge was long and the crowd was too thick for them to just push through. Eren’s lungs began to burn. Normally he wouldn’t have cared—he’d have opened his mouth and released the pressure—but that wasn’t an option this time. They got trapped behind a spirit that resembled an obese rabbit and, dawdling there, Eren started noticing other, unpleasant symptoms: a slight tingle in his extremities, saliva building under his tongue. He almost did gasp when he recognized the feeling. It was too much. Too much like that time at the beach.

He’d sunk beneath the waves, Mikasa’s body weighing him down. His muscles had burned exactly as they did now. Eren had been dying, he was dying now, of course he was. No one could survive something like this. And yet… somehow, he’d awoken on the sand just minutes later. Alive.

Here and now, Eren tightened the muscles in his throat and his shoulders, holding tight onto the present.

“Almost there, kid.”

‘Kid’ again. Eren nodded in acknowledgement. They passed creature after creature and he tried to distract himself by observing them. One stood out, dressed as he was all in black. His face appeared almost mask-like in its stillness and there were strange, triangular markings above and below each eye. The only color on his person came from tufts of golden hair peeking out from beneath his hood. What really made Eren pause though was that this spirit looked right at him.

Eren hurried along. That proved to be a mistake though. His chest ached more than ever and as he passed a spirit in flowing, blue robes the sensation of being underwater crashed over him again.

“Five more fucking seconds, kid, just—”

But Eren had to block him out. He could see the end of the bridge just a few steps ahead but it might as well have been a mile. Throwing aside his independence Eren twisted his hands in Shorty’s tunic, gripping hard enough bruise. Eren felt cold. Wet. Sluggish and weighted. He couldn’t focus his thoughts and above all he couldn’t breathe. Oh god, oh god, he couldn’t breathe—

“Corporal!”

A frog dressed in blue robes jumped up and as he did a spray of pond water hit Eren’s face. It was too much. The actual feeling of water against his skin had him sucking in a desperate, terrified breath.

“Corporal,” the frog said. “Oh I’m so glad you’re back. Hanji’s been—is that a human?!”

“Let’s go!”

Shorty drew his sword, slashing it down in an arc. At first it looked as if he’d sliced the frog in two but at the last second, when the blade touched its green skin, a bubble spread from the sword’s tip, engulfing him. He hung there suspended and that was their chance.

Eren was taken by the hand and then, unlike that time before, they were literally flying. Three inches off the ground Eren watched as the world blurred around him and all he could think about was how Shorty wasn’t ‘Shorty’ at all. He was, apparently, ‘Corporal.’

Barely seconds later they were around the side of the bathhouse, crouched behind some bushes. Corporal wasn’t exactly seething… but he definitely looked far from pleased.

“Fucking, Moblit. Fucking… fucking… frog.” Corporal shivered. “Slimy. Filthy. Disgusting. Trust him to go and screw things over.” He cocked his head towards the sound of chaos within. “Fan-fucking-tastic. Now every half-witted spirit is looking for you.” The Corporal nudged Eren briefly under his chin. “Brat. Throw up on my shoes and I will actually gut you.”

“I’m fine.” It was mostly true too. With dry dirt beneath him and small branches sticking into his back, the feel of the ocean was fading away. “Corporal?” He questioned. “Corporal of what?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t concern you, brat. You’ll be out of here too quickly for something as stupid as my name to matter.”

Despite it all Eren smiled. Probably for the first time in hours. Amidst all this craziness he appreciated the optimism. It sounded like something Mikasa would say.

“—that is, unless he catches you and turns you into a titan. Then you’re screwed.”

Ah. Well.

Instead of screaming and socking this guy Eren shook off the rest of his terror. Straightening he tried to harden his expression too. It was about time he demanded some answers.

“Who exactly is ‘He’?” Eren barked. Well, tried. His voice wobbled a bit. “What the hell is a ‘titan’?”

The Corporal’s eyebrow said he wasn’t impressed… but he did answer. “‘He’ is Irwin Smith, brat, the sorcerer of these parts. He’s a dick.” Eren choked. “Powerful and ruthless. Don’t be like those fools—” Corporal pointed at the silhouettes, running behind the bathhouse’s screened doors. “—and underestimate him. He’s the one that turned your parents and brat sister. Those,” he widened his eyes, imitating the monsters’ hungry stares. “—are titans.”

Whatever trace of the ocean that still clung to Eren was burned away. White hot anger flooded his veins, causing him to shake for a very different reason than before. Now he had a name and soon he’d have a face to go along with it.

Irwin Smith.

“What do I have to do?”

Eren got an approving nod for that. “You need a job. Yes, you heard me. If he catches you that fucker will do exactly what he did to your family, but if you get a job here…” The Corporal shrugged under Eren’s skeptical look. “Don’t look at me, brat. Irwin likes order. He follows even his own rules to the fucking letter, so long as it keeps everything in its place. Get a job and he can’t touch you… much.”

Reaching forward Corporal placed a finger against Eren’s forehead. It was odd really. He looked so imposing—hard expression, weapons at his hip—yet his touches had all been gentle. In a day of tragedies it was one small thing to be grateful for.

Still, cool fingers against his head was weird and definitely not necessary. He was fine now. Eren opened his mouth to say so when his mind was flooded with images.

“The hell?” he yelped.

“Hold still, brat.” Corporal pressed hard—so much for gentle—and the pictures solidified. Eren saw a path, the very one he was sitting on, curving down towards a grey portion of the bathhouse, smoke billowing from its top. He saw steps so steep they were nearly vertical and a door that opened into darkness.

“Run to the back,” Corporal’s voice said from afar. “Stay low and keep to the bushes. Follow the steps down to the entrance of the boiler room. There you’ll find Sasha and Connie. Ask them for a job. Those fucking fools will say no ten times over but just keep bugging the shit out of them until they change their mind. Fail at that, I can’t help you.”

Eren swallowed. “Right.” The finger was removed and Corporal’s face came back into view. Eren blinked a few times until everything smoothed out again. “Right,” he repeated. “Job. I can do that. But what about my family?”

Corporal hesitated. “… Leave them to me.”

“You’ll turn them back then?”

He stood quickly, straightening his sash. Under the shadows of the trees Corporal gave what might have been a nod and Eren relaxed. He even smiled.

“Great. That’s awesome! How are you going to—?”

“There’s no time for that now,” Corporal snapped. “I’ll distract everyone while you get to the boiler room. Remember, you can’t take no for an answer. Got it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, okay. I got it.”

Corporal hesitated once more, his back a series of hard, lined muscle. “Good luck, Eren.” He said.

Suddenly, Eren wanted to call at him to wait—don’t leave me alone here, help me get my family back now—but he forced himself to stand and start stumbling down the path. He was six steps on his new journey when he realized what had felt wrong about that goodbye.

“Wait!” Corporal paused with his hand on the sliding door. “How did you know my name?”

“… You said it, brat. When we met.”

Eren shook his head. “No… no you interrupted me, remember? How—”

But Corporal slipped inside. Eren heard voices calling him, telling him that Irwin wanted to see him. The Corporal’s response—if there was one—was lost as the door closed. In moments his silhouette blurred into the others and Eren was left standing there, brimming with renewed confusion and fear.

Chapter Text

Eren thought furiously as he sneaked his way toward the back gate. How had the Corporal known his name? He would have sworn, pinkie sworn, that he’d never mentioned it. When they’d first met Eren had been tossed on his ass well before he could actually introduce himself. Had the Corporal been watching him? Was this another aspect of his magic? It wasn’t as if they’d met before.

Slowing, Eren worried his bottom lip. They definitely hadn’t met before. Of course they hadn’t. He would have remembered some crazy, grumpy guy with swords! And yet… there was something distinctly familiar about the Corporal. Maybe it was just the fact that he was the only person Eren knew in this messed up place, but he felt safe in his company. It was more than the swords and more than the help. Walking that bridge, even as memories of the ocean flooded through him, Eren had felt a contrasting sense of peace while attached to the Corporal’s back.

Eren scowled. It wasn’t like he wanted to think about all that. Now with his panicky lack of breath was in the past he couldn’t believe he’d actually acted that way. Like such a baby! Mikasa was the one who was scared of the water, not him. Not that Mikasa was a baby or anything. It was fine for her to be afraid. Though it wasn’t like boys couldn’t be scared. Of course they could. Eren knew that. But still.

These thoughts were temporarily laid to rest as he reached the staircase. It was even taller than the vision had made it appear and definitely longer. Off in the distance that huge forest moaned as trees bent under the wind and that same wind eventually reached Eren, pushing him towards the edge. There was a steep turn halfway down. Was that safe? Even if it was, Eren could see a few boards that were partially rotted through and planks that were pulling up from their nails. The safe thing to do would be to scoot down on his butt and hope for the best.

No sooner had that option come up than Eren dismissed it. C’mon. He was going to crawl down there like a scaredy-cat? Scaredy-crab was more like it. No. No one was here to hold his hand and that was fine. Eren didn’t need them to anyway.

Marching forward he took the first three steps quickly, deliberately refraining from looking down. When they remained sturdy under his feet Eren smirked. He picked up the pace, throwing his shoulders forward to gain some momentum.

Which of course was when Eren tripped.

With a scream he fell forward, all at once gaining too much momentum. Somehow Eren maintained his footing even as he felt his body tipping towards the side’s edge. With another cry he pulled back towards the wall and stumbled the rest of the way down. Eren could see what was about to happen, tried desperately to stop it, but it was too late. He crashed into the wall, full-body and with a sickening.

“Owwwww—fuck.” He said against the concrete.

Tenderly unsticking himself Eren had all of half of second to be thankful that no one had seen that when, just his luck, the window above his head slid open. Eren plastered himself right back against the wall as cigarette smoke began drifting his way. It was a frog spirit, or something like it. He hummed a strange little tune as Eren struggled not to cough from the smell. The spirit stayed for only a moment before a shout came and he lumbered away. Eren let out a choked groan.

“I don’t think I actually want to work here,” he muttered.

Which was true… and untrue. If the Corporal thought that working here would help Eren get his family back then he’d work for a thousand years if he had to. Five thousand. A hundred. Whatever it took. Feeding off the energy that promise created, Eren tugged open the door that led to the boiler room.

He shouldn’t have been surprised but the heat hit Eren hard after the cool night air. He could just see light at the end of a hallway full of steam. For a moment Eren hesitated, thinking of the steam that had poured off of him so recently, but standing here wasn’t going to do a thing for Mom or Dad or Mikasa.

“I can handle the heat!” Eren called and marched forward.

There were machines everywhere, all of them whirling and whistling. As Eren crept closer toward the light he noticed a shadow pooling out of the room and climbing the wall on his left. As the shadow moved Eren realized that whoever was in there must have four arms instead of two. Maybe more. Still, the Corporal wouldn’t have sent him to anyone dangerous… right? Lifting his chin Eren slipped inside before he could loose his nerve.

Inside was… a girl. And a boy. Eren stood, head cocked. Not because they were fearsome spirits with multiple arms, but simply because they weren’t. He could have passed these two on any street and never have batted an eye.

Their movements, however, did explain the strange shadow. Though clearly two people, the boy and girl moved as one, weaving around each other so closely they may as well have had one body. They were seated high above the ground, just to the right of the boiler. The girl—brown hair pulled back in a sloppy pony tail and dressed in overalls—snagged one lever after another while the boy—buzz cut, short build, gleeful expression—snuck his hands in the openings she created to twist this, that, and the other thing. Throughout it all they shouted at one another with ease.

“—aw c’mon, Sasha! You never let me heat the upstairs tubs you’re such a—”

“You’re doing it wrong! You’re doing it wrong! This is why, Connie—”

“I am not—”

“Yeah you are.”

“I am NOT—”

“Oh I don’t caaaaaare. Is it lunch? Please tell me it’s lunch.”

“It’s not lunch.”

Eren winced as the girl let out an ear splitting wail. Flailing she bent backwards around the boy, Connie, until her hand caught around the handle of an old tea-kettle. Foregoing a cup she drank straight from the spout, chugging like a starving beast. She finally came up for air with a wet gasp, water dribbling down her chin. It was when she opened her eyes from her stupor that she noticed Eren. Until then, he’d had no idea eyes could actually bug out like they did in the cartoons.

“Eh?!” She cried, pointing. “Who are you?”

“… Eren.” There was a dead silence while Eren fidgeted. “… Eren Yeager.”

“You’re a human.” It was Connie. Hopping down from his post he edged forward, tentative. All at once his face split with a ridiculous grin. “A human!” he chortled. “An actual human! Sasha are you seeing this?”

Sasha propped her cheek up on her hand, seemingly over her shock. With a groan her head dropped a little further. “See him? Yes. Can I eat him?”

“No!”

“Then I don’t caaaaaaaaare—oh!” With a cry she sat up again, reaching for more levers. Something was whistling frantically.

Connie’s expression crumpled. “Ah hell. No rest for the weary, huh? Listen, awesome you coming here and all, really, but you’d best head out before—”

“I need work.” Eren blurted. He straightened, trying to look as capable as possible.

“Work?” Connie parroted.

“No work here!” Sasha twisted eight nobs in seven seconds and then reached for a button high above her head. She was only able to brush its bottom edge. With a curse Connie scrambled up beside her, hoisted her over his shoulders, and Sasha slammed down on the button with a triumphant cry. “No work!” she repeated. Then she whipped around to stare at Eren. A string of drool began seeping out between her lips and, instinctually, Eren backed away.

“No work unless… you’ve got food.” She giggled and it was absolutely terrifying.

“I—” Eren’s hand flew to his pant’s pocket, only to remember that he’d given Mikasa’s chocolate to the Corporal. “I… did but… no. No, sorry.”

“No work then.” With a disappointed sigh Sasha went back to her manic dance. Over the hiss of steam and the clank of the boiler Eren thought he heard her muttering something about ‘starved workers.’

“But, can’t you—”

“NO WORK!”

Connie shrugged. He tossed tools at a pipe until it stopped screaming. “You heard her. Sorry, kid.”

Eren stomped his foot. Just once… and then another two times for good measure. It was stupid of course, but he knew in that moment that he didn’t like anyone calling him ‘kid’ but the Corporal. Running he leapt and caught the edge of their outcrop and pulled himself up. Connie gapped like a fish as Eren got right in his face.

“I need work!” He shouted. It was sort of necessary at this point. The sound of machinery was deafening from here. “Corporal said you have to give me work!”

“Corporal sent you?” Connie’s mouth unhinged a little more. He pointed frantically. “You’re the human everyone’s looking for!” Behind him, Sasha rolled her eyes so dramatically Eren saw it without actually seeing it.

“Of course he’s that human. How many do you think are running around this place, noodle brains?” Wiping her hand on her overalls Sasha turned. “And you. What part of ‘no work’ don’t you get?” She slung her hands on her hips. Young as she looked, the posture screamed ‘mother’ to Eren and he quieted, all the while ignoring the sudden ache in his stomach.

“I need work,” he insisted. “My family, they…”

Eren watched as Sasha’s eyes softened. She knelt down beside him. “All right, all right. Don’t get dewy-eyed on me okay?” Despite the fact that he was not crying she took out a handkerchief stained with god-knows what and rubbed it over his cheeks. “I get it… Eren, was it? Really. But there’s no work here. You’ll have to try elsewhere.” Then she brightened. “Unless you find food! Get some food and then we can talk.” All energy again she scrambled over to the controls once more. Slightly thrown, Eren turned to Connie.

“Sorry,” Connie said again. “Honestly though, she’s right. I can’t think of anything else we need done down here. Like yeah, there’s too much to do—slaves of the boiler room and all that.” Connie rubbed a hand over his shaved head. “But we’ve got our system down. Still, don’t underestimate her love of food.” He whispered the last word, barely audible. “You bring her something and she might actually help you out. Who knows, right?”

“Yeah. Who knows...”

“Atta boy.” Connie thumped Eren on the back, nearly sending him over. “You humans are so cool.”

Despite it all, Eren cracked a teeny, tiny smile. Strange as he was, Connie was kind of cool too. So long as he didn’t call him ‘kid.’

Eren caught his sleeve before he could completely pull away. “Hey. Do you have any idea where I can find some—”

“HEADS UP!”

Sasha flew backwards as five bits of colored wood came tumbling down from the ceiling, suspended by long ribbons. Sprawled on her back she shook a fist at the wood angrily.

“Five bath-tokens!” she cried. “Five! For the love of…. I bet it’s Marco again, spoiling the clientele rotten. I’m not a workhorse!”

“Of course you’re not, Sasha.”

“… Are you patronizing me?”

“Whaaa? No. Of course not. Never.”

“Connie, I swear—”

As the two fought Eren used their shouts to mask his escape. He crawled back to the floor, his t-shirt now permanently stuck to his back with sweat. Slowly, he shuffled toward the door. What was he supposed to do now? He could go back outside, try to find the Corporal, maybe ask him if he had any more of that disgusting food to give to Sasha (something told Eren she’d take it, no matter the taste). Or he could just tell him how insane his friends were and if he wanted Eren to get a job here he’d have to come up with something better. Or Eren could run. Take to the hills sloping around the bathhouse, try to find his parents on his own. He’d take down anyone who stood in his path and then… Well. He’d do something.

“All right, boys. Break’s over!”

At Connie’s shout a hundred little creatures swarmed out of arches cut into the edge of the floor’s threshold. And of course, Eren was standing right in their path.

“Hey—no—watch it!”

Black, fluffy balls flooded around Eren’s feet. They were quick as scurrying mice and although he didn’t want them getting into his socks, Eren didn’t want to step on them either. They looked like one good kick would obliterate them.

Connie grinned down at his flailing. “Awesome right? They’re soot.” Eren nodded, though he’d never seen soot with big eyes and chittering voices before. “Enchanted them myself. Not perfect of course, if they don’t work the spell wears off—I’m working on that, swear—but they’re cute, huh?” Eren nodded again. One soot ball jumped high to tickle his ankle. “Hey, you lazybones! Leave Eren and get to work already!”

At Connie’s command they swarmed back through the arches, only to come out again a moment later, this time with lumps of coal held high in their little arms. In a single file they scurried forward to feed the boiler. Sasha groaned in relief.

Eren watched them for a few minutes, recognizing that what he really was doing was stalling. How was he supposed to find the Corporal again? Eren scuffed his shoe hard against the floor. This was all shit.

However, as he kicked Eren caught a soot ball as it ran past. The poor thing tumbled a foot before its piece of coal—nearly four times its size—landed directly on its head.

“Sorry!”

Eren scooped the coal up, peering apprehensively underneath. After a second the dark smear on the ground popped back into an animate being. Eren let out a relieved smile. It faded though when he looked down at the coal in his hand. What was he supposed to do with this now? He couldn’t give it back. The poor soot ball was still wobbling on its tiny legs.

“Eren!” Sasha leaned over the edge, a shaking, wild-eyed vulture. “You’re holding up the line!”

He was. All the other little soot balls were jogging in place behind him.

“I don’t—”

Sasha pointed sternly towards the boiler. “Finish what you started.”

“You can’t order me around,” Eren sniped. “It’s not like I work here, remember?”

“MOVE YOUR BUTT, HUMAN BOY, OR SO HELP ME, I’LL USE YOU AS FUEL.”

Eren ran. He tossed the coal in faster than it had ever been tossed before. The clank-whoosh of machine and heat, inches from his vulnerable skin, almost drowned out Connie’s laughter. Almost.

Grumbling Eren shuffled back, wiping black yuck on his shorts. Connie was still laughing. He looked up to tell the stupid, spirit-boy off when Eren realized what exactly he was laughing at. Every soot ball had dropped coal on their own heads, their tiny limbs waving exaggeratedly.

Eren blinked. “Wow. Talk about lazy.”

“You’ve—you’ve—” Connie choked, nodding frantically. “You’ve created monsters!”

“Well you enchanted them,” Sasha said. “Let me guess, modeled them after yourself?”

“Aw c’mon, Sasha.”

“If we don’t keep up then the customers will complain, and if the customers complain then Irwin will get pissed, and if Irwin gets pissed then he might end up doing something horrible to us like RATIONAING OUR MEALS.”

At the name ‘Irwin’ Eren’s ears perked up… and that tight ball of anger pulsed in his chest. It so consumed him for a moment that he missed Connie’s muttered, “Or worse.” Before he could say anything though, a tiny door—one Eren hadn’t even realized was there—slid open and a girl’s head popped through.

“Lunch!” she called and Sasha was gone. One moment she was at her dials, the next she was in that girl’s lap. Or rather, she almost was. See what Sasha, and everyone else there didn’t know was that Eren had spent his life running: away from dickheads and towards adventure, through his father’s arms and between his mother’s legs. And because of all this, he was fast. Rabbit running from a dog fast. Or get back before your curfew fast.

Even get between Sasha and her food fast.

That’s exactly what Eren did. A second before Sasha’s greasy hands landed on a bowl filled with rice and tempura, Eren was there first. He held it high above his head and then deliberately shoved it into Sasha’s arms.

“There!” Eren cried. “I gave you food.” Technically. “Now give me a job!”

Sasha sprouted a confused grin, her eyes widening. Then Eren was yanked backwards.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the girl bringing the food, but now he kind of wished he had. She had dirty brown hair up in a ponytail, just like Sasha, and she also seemed a little erratic in her movements, but that’s where the similarities ended. This girl wore glasses and Eren would swear, double-dog-pinkie-forever-and-always-swear, that he had never seen a more literal expression of insanity behind a pair of specs before. He’d thought Sasha was intense. Sasha had nothing on this one.

“Are you a human?” the girl whispered. She began patting and pinching him… everywhere. “You are… you are, aren’t you? Oooooooh I just love humans. You’re so fascinating!” The girl pulled Eren’s nose up like a pig’s, trying to look up his nostrils. This close, her magnified eyes were demonic. “Your skin is so warm. So soft! Do you put anything on it? I heard humans sometimes rub ointments onto their limbs, or draw on them, or even pierce them! Do you do that?” She began tugging Eren’s shirt up over his stomach.

“Would you stop it, crazy lady!” What was it with these creatures manhandling him?

“Lay off him, Hanji.” Connie said. He didn’t sound too concerned though. Sasha’s mouth was too full to say anything at all.

Batting invasive hands away Eren turned to her. “I gave you food, Sasha. Job.”

“Mu moont ha enfy ooobs hheer,” she said.

“We seriously don’t have any jobs available here, Eren.” Connie translated. “Sorry, man.”

“But—”

“You want a job?” Hanji cooed.

“Yes!”

“I’ll give you a job.”

“Fine!” Eren sucked in a breath. “Wait what?”

“C’mon!” Hanji started dragging him back through the door. Though at the last second Sasha, thankfully, blocked their way.

She gulped down two mouthfuls of rice. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Hanji?”

“Uh…”

Sasha nodded at the hundred, hopeful soot balls peeking up at them.

“Right. How could I forget you darlings?” With a sheepish grin Hanji released Eren—for now. She dug in her basket until she came up with a handful of colorful stars. Hanji started scattering them like seeds over the ground and the soot balls happily gathered them up, popping them into their furry mouths. Behind her Connie had scrounged up a used bowl from somewhere and was nudging it Sasha’s way. She reluctantly dropped in some of her food. Eren stood between the two parties, just looking back and forth.

“Are you really going to give me a job?” he asked.

“Hanji loves humans,” Sasha said, as if that was somehow an answer. “Absolutely NUTS about them,” and she snickered into her rice.

Hanji glared but then nodded frantically. “Do you eat night fruit?” she asked. She held out a handful of stars to him. “Go on, go on. You can try a little. Don’t be shy. There you go, boy. Gooooood, boy.”

“He’s not a dog, Hanji.” Connie drawled, but he gestured for Eren to take one anyway. It wasn’t like he wanted to—those sure as hell weren’t fruit—but if this woman could actually give him a job...

Eren took a tiny, yellow star and popped it into his mouth. It was foul.

“Aww,” Hanji cooed as he spluttered.

“You should take him to Irwin,” Sasha suggested, thumping Eren on the back. “Wouldn’t want to give him a job we don’t have.”

“True, true,” Connie agreed.

“And there are no jobs here.”

“None at all.”

“I’m sure there’s something upstairs though…”

“No doubt.”

“But just in case…” Sasha shrugged. She stuffed an entire shrimp in her mouth, tail and all. “You don’t want to make Irwin mad. Don’t want Eren getting kicked out too soon right?”

Hanji paused in her feeding. Her arm began throwing the stars again soon enough, but in that second a calculated glint had entered her eyes. Eren had assumed that she was just as she appeared to be—crazy, scary-crazy, and stupid-crazy—but that look suggested cunning; and cunning required patience. For as long as he could remember Eren’s mom had been telling him the same thing day in, day out: get ahold of your temper. “Be patient, Eren.” She’d say. “If you’d just stop and think things through...” Eren didn’t like it one bit, but having someone with patience on his team was probably a good thing.

“I can’t leave,” he said. Eren stepped forward. “Not yet. And…” he shrugged, feeling a healthy amount of trepidation. “If you get me a job I guess I can, I don’t know, tell you what it’s like to be human?”

Hanji squealed. That glint wasn’t gone yet though.

“Sasha… didn’t you once tell me you had a nephew?” she asked. Slowly, deliberately.

Sasha smiled around her chopsticks. “Oh right. How ever could I have forgotten about that?” Connie coughed into his bowl. “Distant brother of mine went off and married a human. Huge scandal. Isn’t it terrible? To make things worse they had a kid together. Who even knows how that works. Still, he’s a little boy who’d be about…oh, Eren’s age I suppose. Wouldn’t you say so, Eren?”

Catching on, Eren nodded.

“Now don’t you think Irwin would just have to hire him? A relative of one of his best workers?”

“Absolutely.” Sasha scowled when two whistles sounded at once. “Worker though? I’m a mule around here, let’s be honest. Hey! Soot cry-babies! Yeah, you all. Back to work! C’mon, Connie, get them going.” She peered sadly down at her empty bowl before shoving it Connie’s way. Sasha scrambled back onto her ledge.

Connie juggled the two bowls expertly. “Alright already… hey, Eren? Make sure to visit. I could do with some company around here, other than hers.”

“I’m an absolute joy to be around, asshat!”

“Uh huh.”

“Visit?” Eren only understood the full implication of that when he felt himself being dragged backwards—again. Hanji had him in her clutches once more and this time there was no Sasha standing in her way.

“One job for one lab rat.” She breathed. “That definitely seems fair. I can’t wait, I can’t wait!”

“Lab rat? What? No, no, Hanji, that’s not what we—”

Eren caught a final glimpse before he was pulled through the door. Connie had his back to him, directing his soot balls, but Sasha turned at the last second. She cast him a frenzied salute.

“Welcome to the family!” she called and then the door slammed shut.

Chapter Text

Eren was dragged down two more hallways and shoved into a rickety elevator. Hanji chatted the whole way.

“I’ve read so much, Eren, whole libraries full, but I’ve never actually met a living human before.” She said. “Well, that’s not really true. I’ve seen them, just couldn’t speak to them, language barriers and all that, you know? But I’ve spoken to plenty of dead ones!”

“Really?” Eren staggered as the elevator began rising with a lurch. He leaned over the railing, trying to get a look at where they were heading, but Hanji tugged him back.

“Of course.” She grinned. “We’re all spirits eventually, right? I just don’t get all that anthropophobia. A lot of the guys here, the ones born into the after-life, they’re always going on about how stupid human spirits are. As if! So what if it takes you lot a few generations to get the hang of things? I’d like to see them adapt to a non-corporal existence. Besides, anyone who loses all semblance of self control over roasted newts can’t talk.”

Eren nodded, trying to look like he’d understood any of that.

“And, and—!” Hanji gushed. “You humans have such diversity. Is it true none of you are exactly alike?”

“I guess so.” Back in the village when Eren had still thought he’d be living there his whole life, Grisha had played midwife during the birth of Mrs. Soya’s identical twins. Eren had helped his father bring food to the family a few weeks later and he’d marveled at just how similar the babes looked, even as infants. Still, Grisha had assured him that looks were just that—superficial. Everything that made them them was unique.

“Aren’t spirits different?” he asked.

“Sure, you’d never guess it though. Hive mind half the time, I swear.” Hanji huffed and cranked the elevator’s lever. They began rising even faster. “You’ve got your toad spirits and your forest spirits and your transformed spirits—that’s me! River spirits, faceless spirits, the ethereal, the waifs. And ghosts of course; spirits that lived in the human world for a time. That’s why it’s so sad.” Hanji crossed her arms over her apron, looking as if she was trying to hug herself. “You humans, you’re so diverse! But then you loose all that when you die. Well, at least for a while. It comes back eventually.” She patted Eren roughly on the back. “Don’t worry! Most are only mindless blobs for a couple decades or so. Then you get your mojo back and you can move chains around and stuff. That’s always a big riot with the tourists.”

“Blobs…” Eren swallowed, thinking back to the mass of black ghosts that had swarmed the restaurants below. “The ones outside. Below the bathhouse. They’re…?”

“Human spirits? You betcha. See? Smart!” Hanji went to turn the backrub into a full-blown hug when she glanced down at their feet. Pressed against his side Eren could feel her shaking with silent laugher. “Eren. Haven’t you ever worked in a bathhouse before? You don’t need your shoes, silly. Or your socks.”

“Uh…”

“Here.”

“Hey!”

Eren was nearly tipped backwards out of the elevator when Hanji grabbed at his feet. Within seconds his footwear was gone and she was cradling his smelly shoes in her arms.

“Can I keep them?” Hanji whispered.

“No!”

“Aww. Then I’ll just keep them for a while.” She stuffed his muddy sneakers into her apron pocket and really, what was Eren supposed to do to stop her?

They continued to rise and as they did Eren sneaked into the corner, leaning his head against the wood. The vibration of the elevator was soothing. Sometimes, when there was too much housework for just one woman, Eren’s mom would make a list of anything and everything that needed doing. Now, Eren pictured their scratched kitchen table and started writing a list of his own:

To Do

1. Save Mom.
2. Save Dad.
3. Save Mikasa.
4. Get home.

Optional

5. Beat the ever-loving crap out of this Irwin guy.
6. Try to forget that he’d ever learned about the after-life from a human-obsessed spirit.

Eren thumped his head lightly against the elevator’s frame. Numbers one through five seemed impossible and number six wasn’t happening anytime soon. He kicked the elevator as well, just for good measure, and hissed when he toes crunched.

“Hey, kid. You okay?”

“Leave me alone,” Eren muttered. “And I’m not a kid,” he said directly to the wood. Still, Eren found himself turning back towards Hanji.

“Just… dying,” he said. “Spirits and all that. Does the ‘how’ matter?”

Hanji tilted her head to the side. Eren rushed to explain. “I mean, you know, dying. How you die, Hanji. Does that matter?”

“Well yeah.” She glanced upwards in thought, missing Eren’s flinch. “You mean with humans right? Sometimes if people die, um… badly, it takes them longer to get the hang of their new existence. They’re kinda thrown for a bit, you know?”

“Like if someone drowns?” Eren pressed.

“Uh… maybe.” Hanji spluttered, waving her arms. “But no one’s drowning, Eren!”

“I know. Whatever. Just…” It had all been a bit much, hadn’t it? Eren had been fooling himself into thinking that his stupid little freak out on the bridge had been forgotten, but even the heat of Sasha’s boiler room couldn’t wipe it away completely. Now he was supposed to just stand here and chat about dying? How humans lost themselves in death? What if that had been Mikasa—pulled roughly below the sea, water filling her lungs, spending generations wandering aimlessly because of the ‘how’? What if that had been him?

“You sure you’re okay?”

What if it happened anyway? His parents, Mikasa… they were still missing.

“Yeah.” Eren lied. “I’m fine.”

“Great!” With a happy shriek Hanji pulled him from his corner and flipped the lever on the wall. They ground to an abrupt halt.

“Right. This elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top, so we need to—oh. Hi, Jean.”

The elevator opened to show a lanky boy wearing what looked like a permanent scowl. His mouth dropped the second he got a look at Eren.

“You!” He cried. “You’re the—”

Hanji slapped a hand over his mouth. “Ah, ah, ah. He’s nothing. Nothing at all. Not unless you want me telling the Corporal who cleaned the tubs in the south wing last week.” Hanji paused and Eren saw the whites of Jean’s eyes. “Or, you know, didn’t clean as the case may be.”

“Got it.” Jean growled, slapping her hand away. He turned to Eren and huffed. “Jeez. Just don’t let Irwin catch you taking in strays, Hanji. We’ll all be done for.”

“Actually, we’re heading to see him now.” Hanji pushed past as Jean’s mouth dropped. After a second he turned and started trotting after them.

“That was a joke,” he hissed.

“Nuh uh.”

“You can’t take him…” Jean’s eyes strayed towards Eren. He pulled himself over Hanji’s shoulder, still walking briskly, and whispered in a manner he probably thought was secretive.

“He’ll eat the kid alive, Hanji.”

Eren was about to protest—despite the sick churning that had started in the pit of his stomach—but Hanji beat him to it. She shoved him off her, far more roughly than Eren would have thought possible.

“Eren needs a job.” She said and Jean stiffened. “Got it? So are you going to help us or not?”

He didn’t say anything but Jean’s gait evened out to match their own. The three of them kept silent as they continued through the labyrinth of hallways.

It wasn’t until they’d come out fully onto a balcony—one overlooking at least twenty different tubs—that Eren realized how little of the bathhouse he’d actually seen. There’d been a brief glimpse of the entrance when he’d crossed the bridge… but that memory was overshadowed by the image of water. He’d seen the boiler room of course, and one elevator, but other than that…

It was, in a word, spectacular, far more colorful than Eren would have ever guessed. Everywhere sprits ran to and fro, many of them looking human, even more resembling animals, some looking like nothing Eren had ever seen before. They were filling the steaming baths or scrubbing them down, carrying food and chatting together in the corners. Bracing himself over the railing Eren took a deep breath and caught the sent of lavender in the air. Despite the chaos, the entire scene was calming. The atmosphere was soothing. Warmer than the night outside, but not oppressive like Sasha’s domain—the perfect bath temperature.

Hanji pulled him along. Jean moved to her right, the two of them effectively blocking Eren from view.

“Marco.” Jean said.

“Polo.” Eren responded, the blushed under the confused look he got. “Oops. Um, it’s a game…”

“A human game?” Hanji squealed.

“Well yeah…”

“Later,” Jean said. He shook his head at Eren. “Who are you anyway? No, never-mind. The less I know the better. Hanji, have you seen Marco?”

“Can’t say I have.” She twirled a little, nearly hitting a spirit carrying a tray of mugs. “That why you were heading downstairs? He’s not with Connie.”

Jean scrubbed a hand over his face. “Damn. I thought he might be sneaking Sasha extras again.”

“Nope. Check the laundry?”

“Yeah.”

“Kitchens?”

“They nudged him out.”

“Spirit kiddie pool?”

“Irwin’s really going to fire him if he gets caught playing with the kids again…”

Tired of being ignored Eren pushed between the two adults. “What?” He sniped. “Lost your boyfriend?”

Jean blinked down at him. “Yeah. You seen him?”

“Oh… No. Sorry.” Pulling back Eren noticed something frantic going on below. A spirit with cat ears was being yelled at by a creature nearly indistinguishable from bubble bath it was lounging in. She had two tokens in her paws and another one balanced on her tail. The poor thing seemed to be trying to calm her client and get them in the wall at the same time.

“Hey…” Eren peered closer. Those tokens looked an awful lot like the ones Sasha had been receiving. Sure enough he watched Ms. Cat succeeded, hooking the tokens to ribbons where they plunged down into the walls before bouncing back up, no doubt heading to the boiler room. And when Sasha had received five of those things…

“Hey!” Eren said again. He grabbed apron strings to slow Jean and Hanji down. “I have heard of Marco. Sasha got a bunch of those wooden things before. She said Marco was probably ‘spoiling the clientele.’ Do you know…?”

Jean froze, snapping his fingers. A grin fought its way onto his face and Eren was shocked by how kind it made him look. Like that scowling boy from before was just a mirage. Even stranger was that it was all directed Eren’s way.

“The palace room,” Jean said. “That’s right. Marco’s entertaining a group of woodland spirits today. He always pulls out all the stops for them.”

Hanji knelt down and gave Eren a congratulatory pat. “Some memory you’ve got there. Wow! I’ve heard that sometimes humans use medicines to enhance their recollections. Have you ever…?”

“No.” Eren imbued the word with as much force as he could, hoping it would derail Hanji’s questions. “Woodland spirits?” he asked instead.

“Nymphs, fairies, dryads, the like. All mischievous. All very sexy. If you like that kind of thing.” Hanji shivered deliciously and winked.

“And you trust your boyfriend with them?” Eren croaked. He felt his cheeks heating as he pictured a group of wet… naked… yeah.

“Absolutely,” and there was nothing in that answer that Eren could doubt.

“Ah, speaking of trust, boys…”

They’d arrived at another elevator, one significantly larger than the one from before. Rising from her crouch Hanji tugged Eren behind her while Jean slotted against her side. They effectively created a shield between Eren and the rest of the bathhouse. A good thing too, considering that from the elevator spilled a gaggle of spirits and one very vocal toad.

“Right this way, right this way, ladies, gentlemen, the undecided, and the in-between. Watch your step now! We don’t want anyone tripping. There we are. Yes, yes, lovely to see you, Nila. Ah, Hanji!”

The toad scurried forward, abandoning his group. His green skin was oozing out of a white robe and at the sight of it Eren pressed himself more firmly against Hanji’s back. He was only half serious at first—honestly, he’d seen ickier things in his mom’s garden—but then the smell hit: stagnant water overlaid with onion weeds. It was far more prominent than the odor the frog on the bridge had carried, but still effectively the same. A second after hitting his nose Eren felt the touch of waves on his skin and gave up, fisting his hands into Hanji’s shirt. When a small, stupid cry escaped Jean peaked back worriedly.

“Hanji.” The toad was right in front of them now. His rolling eyes bugged. “Jean, you, you…human. You both smell like humans!”

Jean crossed his arms. It didn’t escape Eren’s notice that this further helped to hide the top of his head. “Is that so?” he drawled. “What exactly are you implying, wart-face?”

“C’mon now, Jean. You can’t lie to me. There’s a human running around here, I’ve heard the rumors. Where is it? Huh? Out with it.”

“Right here.” Hanji piped up. She began rummaging in her apron and as she did her hips nudged Eren towards the elevator. Dismissing the toad Jean took the hint and started edging backwards with as much nonchalance as one being could generate. Eren changed his hand-hold just as Hanji gave a triumphant cry.

“Here!”

For a split, horrifying second Eren thought Hanji really was as stupid as she sometimes seemed… that she was going to show the toad his shoes…. but then her hand only came up with lint. Shaking her head in exaggerated frustration she began digging again with renewed fervor. By now Jean had shuffled them into the lift, his hand hesitating over a bronze lever.

“I know it’s here somewhere.” Hanji muttered. “Fantastic stuff. Amazing! Did you know they make human perfume?”

“Ah…” the toad backed up a step. “Perfume?”

“Yes, yes! It’s astounding. This adorable little bottle with an essence that smells just like living human. Can you imagine? Oh, I just have to share it with everyone. I already gave Jean a drop on his wrists and he adores it; off to show Irwin, isn’t that right, Jean? Top floor?”

“Absolutely. I’m on my way now.” Jean smirked. He cranked the lever and the doors began to close with a satisfying creak.

“Here it is!”

At the last second Eren peeked from behind Jean’s back and saw Hanji pull absolutely nothing from her apron. The toad didn’t know that though. He was already scurrying away.

“Way to go, Hanji…”

As the lift began to rise Jean’s chuckles tapered off. He stared down at Eren, that hint of a smile beginning to drop from his lips

“Top floor, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Shuffling a bit, Eren cringed as his parents’ voices flooded his head. With a whispered sigh he said, “Thank you very much for helping me” and then slipped to the other side of the elevator. There. Now no one could say that he hadn’t been grateful. Didn’t mean he wanted to press against the guy’s ass all day.

But Jean had other plans. He whistled a little, rocking back on his heels and inching closer. Eren scowled as he was crowded back into a corner.

“Top floor, top floor… only thing up there is Irwin. You know what you’re getting into, kid?”

“Yes.” Eren snapped. He tossed his head. “He’s a bastard. A… a fucking bastard. And don’t call me ‘kid!’”

Jean nodded, though whether at the description or the command, Eren couldn’t tell.

“Right,” he said. “Got it. You’re not a kid. No really, I get it. You’re just a human in a non-human realm, trying to avoid detection, heading upstairs to confront the boss who, as you accurately put it, is a fucking bastard. A powerful fucking bastard. You’ve got it all under control.” Jean tipped a sideways look at him. “It’s not like I saw you shaking a few moments ago or anything.”

Eren pressed his back harder against the lift’s wall. “… That was just ‘cause of the smell.”

“The smell? I know those swampy guys aren’t bathing in roses but why…? You know what. Never mind. Just listen to me a sec, Mr. Grownup. You’ve got all of thirty seconds before you’re facing your worst nightmare.” Eren glanced up and, yes, they were nearly out of floors now. He resolutely told himself that the carved numbers weren’t blurring.

“All I’ve really got to go on is two things,” Jean said. “The first is that for all your mouthing off you’re not half bad, and you found my boyfriend to boot. Let me tell you, when Marco’s off on a mission to help and support, he’s not easy to find. Seriously. Think of a puppy with a shorter attention span and a higher hero complex. He’d love you. Probably to death.” Despite himself, Eren smiled. “Second is that, if rumors are to be believed, you snuck in here with the help of the Corporal. Good thing for you, I like that guy. If he trusts you then who the hell am I to say nay?”

“What about Hanji?” Eren pressed. Just a little. “Sasha and Connie? They trust me too.”

“Uh huh. Those nut jobs? Can’t say that’s a glowing recommendation.” Jean’s voice was warm though, and unexpectedly sincere.

With a ding that didn’t seem nearly dramatic enough the elevator stopped. Leaning against the doors Jean lifted his shoulders helplessly. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you getting eaten alive in there. So my advice? Don’t.” Jean’s eyes muted down to a sharper, harder gold. “You want a job? Fucking get one. Don’t walk out of that office until you’re satisfied. I don’t know what your business here is but don’t let that—” Jean’s mouth worked a moment before he finally just hissed out a breath. “We’ve got our own history, alright? All in all I wouldn’t mind seeing that guy brought down a peg. Or two.”

“Or three.” Eren said, thinking of family. “Thanks, Jean.”

“Don’t mention it. Hey—” He stopped the doors as they began to close. Eren locked his knees, forcing himself not to dive back through them. “Come find me later. I’ll introduce you to Marco.” Jean stared him down. “You will still be here later, right?”

“Right.” Eren said, with a whole lot more confidence than he felt. It seemed like enough for Jean though. He gave a curt nod and finally let the doors slip close. Eren stood, rooted to the carpet, watching the numbers fall away.

After a few minutes Eren turned and started down the hallway. He kept his eyes fixed on the carpet, his bare toes digging between the strands. Every time his right foot swung forward Eren whispered harshly to himself, again and again, to keep himself going. The corridor, otherwise silent, began to fill with his steady mantra: “Right, right, right, right.”

Chapter Text

It helped that the corridor was nothing like water. Painted in deep reds and gold, it was a far cry from the blackened blue waves of the ocean. The threads under Eren’s bare feet were luxuriously soft and the dim lighting encouraged relaxation—a contrast to the bustle of activity just a few floors below. Despite being fully aware of where he was heading, and whom he was heading towards, Eren felt the tension in his shoulders beginning to seep away. He stifled a yawn against his wrist. As he opened his mouth Eren’s tongue caught briefly against his skin and he cringed. More than sleep he’d like to bathe, even if only to rid himself of the day’s insanity.

Despite his exhaustion, Eren couldn’t help but gap at the adornments as they came into view. Urns with intricate carvings towered high above his head, their widths’ equaling seven Erens. His hand rose carefully to trace the images… only to draw back with a growl. Around and around there were drawings of those things: huge, misshapen creatures that looked human, but never, ever could be. Eren’s eyes danced, instinctually trying to find one that looked like the beasts his family had become, but his feet pulled him away. Eren resolutely glazed his vision over everything else. There was only the corridor, deep red, and the doors waiting for him at the end.

Those doors weren’t so easy to ignore though. If the urns had been tall, the doors themselves were twice their height, heavy oak with knockers the size of small dogs. And like the urns, the doors had complex designs carved deeply into the wood; some so cavernous Eren could have laid his arm into the gap. Again he did his best not to look though, choosing instead to focus on the handles as the easiest way to get inside. Tilting backwards Eren was surprised to find that the handles weren’t just large but also styled after a man’s hard, serious face. Weird.

It was even weirder when the things began to speak.

“Well aren’t you going to knock?” The one in front of him snapped, causing Eren to stumble backwards. He landed hard on his butt and the other knocker, far to the left, started cackling.

“Boy can’t keep his feet!” It said, to which the first one rolled its marbled eyes.

“Not surprised. Not surprised at all. Rude little thing, isn’t he? Doesn’t even knock.”

“Go ahead, rude boy. Knock for us.” The second head lifted its ring up with its tongue. Eren shuddered when he saw sharp little teeth hiding behind those lips.

“Knock!” The first one screamed, cackling all the while. Eren began scooting backwards just as the second head joined in, their voices raising and echoing up to the ceiling. “Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Kn—”

“Do be quiet, won’t you?”

Eren froze, a rabbit trembling under the gaze—the voice—of a fox. The knockers stilled as well, grumbling only slightly under their breath. Though silence descended on the corridor Eren could still feel that voice hovering in the air around them. Where before the temperature had been cool it now felt suffocating; a wool blanket tucked in on a summer’s day. Eren struggled to get in a decent breath. When he did speak, he was horrified to find that his voice was little more than a whisper.

“You’re Irwin.” At least it hadn’t come out as a question.

“My, my. Aren’t you well informed...”

The voice sounded sincere, but Eren knew better. The tone was all encompassing, more powerful than anything he’d heard before, yet for all of that it was still familiar. That was the tone Hannes used to say, “Yeah, Eren. That’s real terrible,” before not quite rolling his eyes and drawing down a beer in three gulps. Or even worse: it was the sound of Liam down the street extending his hand, right before he swung with the other. Eren found himself madly scrambling back just as the voice said, “Let him in.”

With a shared look the knockers pulled up, allowing the doors to swing inward.

“Well, Eren? Enter.”

Eren dug his fingers into the carpet. His heels too.

“I said, come in.”

Eren felt bands, invisible and taught, wrapping themselves around his ankles, thighs, and chest. They lifted him off the floor until he floated, a cardboard cutout of a boy. With a cry Eren made to tear at them only to find more bands emerging from nowhere to catch his wrists. They dragged his arms out and forced his palms up until he looked like a remarkably pliant sacrifice. His screams turned enraged until Eren felt the final band slapping itself across his mouth.

“Much better.” Irwin’s voice said. It sounded right beside his ear. “Come.”

With that Eren was flying through the doors and down a hall identical to the one he’d just left. With a lurch that gripped his stomach he made a sharp left, two rights, and very nearly hit a dead end before taking another left at the last moment. Eren tried to continue struggling, but it was impossible. Even his eyes, when he desperately tried to shut them, were pried open by invisible fingers. He spent the rest of the journey with tears streaming down his cheeks and something lodged hard in his throat. It was only from the harsh wind of course. Nothing else.

Finally, just when Eren was convinced that he would vomit, band or no, a door snapped open and he was tossed—literally—over the threshold. Tumbling Eren landed on one shoulder, his chin scrapping across the carpet. It felt like he’d been burned and he latched onto that feeling, as well as all the others: his butt from where he’d landed, his shoulder, his chin, his hot cheeks, the soles of his feet from running and scrambling all day long. Eren pulled at the pain until he could twist it into something resembling courage.

“What the fuck was that?” He screamed, whipping around, only Eren’s voice died at the company he was in.

There, standing by a laden desk with their hands folded primly, were five spirits Eren had not expected to see. Really, he hadn’t expected to see anyone but Irwin. As it was, these five crowded the office in a way that felt claustrophobic rather than cozy. There were four men in all. One had short, dark brown hair and a build like a weightlifter. He stood slightly in front, leading, while the other four kept back near his shoulders.

The second closest was a blond, face impassive, while in contrast the other two men stared at Eren with equally animated expressions. One was outright sneering. It almost looked like he was chewing on his tongue. The other tilted forward onto his toes and, to Eren’s disgust, sniffed him. Whatever he smelled though must have pleased him because the tinniest smile appeared.

The fifth spirit was a woman. Golden hair, kind face, a look that distinctly screamed pity. Eren reared at her assumptions and pushed himself to his feet.

“What,” Eren began. “The FUCK is wrong with—”

“Such language.”

Eren felt something slimy zipping across his lips. He clawed at his face but it felt like his mouth had disappeared completely. Gasping through his nose he looked up and finally noticed the figure seated behind the desk.

It wasn’t entirely surprising that Eren had overlooked him. Even with five other people in the room, the desk itself was cluttered beyond belief. A hundred papers, pens, weights, bottles, gadgets, knick-knacks, and who knew what else made recognizing the desk as a desk nearly impossible. Behind the mountain of organized materials sat a man half covered by shadow. He leaned forward then and the light of the nearest lamp caught his face. Hard, chiseled, his blond hair cut so severely that all Eren could think was, ‘military.’ He wondered if spirits had participated in the war at all, if this guy knew how to disembowel him like Hannes said every good commander could do. Leaning forward even further, Irwin smiled. The answer was definitely ‘yes.’

“Really, Eren.” He said, standing. “Did you always have such a mouth on you? Or have you picked that up from… someone here?” Eren refused to flinch, trying desperately not to think of the Corporal, but the girl to his left cringed for him. Irwin noticed. Coming out from behind the desk he ran a hand along her neck while she squirmed beneath him.

“But now I’m the rude one,” he said. “I should introduce myself properly. Irwin Smith, at your service. I’m the manager of this fine establishment. And these are my assistants—Petra.” The girl swallowed. “Gunther, Erd.” The two leaders inclined their heads, reluctantly. “Mike and Oluo.” The man who’d sniffed him breathed deeply again, though this time there was no smile accompanying it. Oluo, either a hero or a fool, broke rank with a scoff and jogged to Petra’s side. Irwin moved away indifferently as Oluo attempted to offer some kind of silent comfort. Petra only batted his hands away.

“Do excuse them,” Irwin murmured. “They only speak if they’re given permission. I do prefer a relaxed working environment.” He shrugged, as if this was something everyone should strive to attain. “No loud noises. Nothing… unexpected. Like having a group of disgusting humans turn up on your property, devouring food that isn’t theirs for the taking. It’s rude, Eren. Shockingly rude. I was quite distraught you know. Can you really blame me if I felt that they deserved a proper punishment?” Eren tried desperately to unhinge his jaw and tell Irwin exactly what he blamed him for. He only succeeded in straining the muscles in his neck.

“They weren’t the first I’ve turned of course, but I do believe they provided the best symbolism. Titans are hungry beings after all, and your family was disgustingly ravenous.” Eren dug his hands into the flesh of his thighs. “Hungry for my food, for adventure… well, they certainly got that didn’t they? Your father with his loud, uncultured mouth. Your mother’s reliance on animalistic instinct. Even your ‘sister’, Eren. Little Mikasa. Come now, even you have to admit that I did her a favor, imbuing some bravery into that blood. Titans don’t fear anything. She’s a fighter now.”

Irwin spread his hands in a gesture of peace. “What about you, Eren? Don’t you want to be a fighter too? Someone courageous, capable of righting all these terrible wrongs.” His voice sneered thickly over the words. “I’ll let you in on a secret then. Power isn’t about reckless, exaggerated action. It’s control. And the little things, like this…” A flame sprang into Irwin’s palm. Eyeing it, Eren thought he saw something resembling a face writhing amidst the blue core. Screaming. “See? Control. So what do you say, Eren? Prove to me that you can discuss this like a gentleman. I promise I’ll listen, and it would make me very, very happy.”

Irwin stepped forward slightly, out of the shadows that still clung to his desk, and Eren was given a terrifying glimpse of his height. Slowly, as if savoring the movement, he drew his hand through the air and Eren’s speech was returned to him.

“You stupid, son-of-a—!”

“Now, really.” Irwin caught Eren by the stomach as he lunged, easily throwing him backwards. Eren came back again, trying to get in a punch, but a gesture from Irwin had his hand slowing like it was wading through molasses. With another little twist Eren found his arm twisting behind his back and his knees buckling fast. He hit the carpet with a squawk.

And yet, at the last second, Eren had thought he’d caught a glimpse of the other five surging forward… only to be held back. Looking up he found that they weren’t nearly as impassive as they’d originally seemed. Oluo was still next to Petra, but now they were both starring furiously his way. Gunther’s hands had tightened into fists; Erd bounced in place. Mike was actively frowning.

Eren understood. The need was still there, to claw, rip, destroy the thing smiling down at him. To demand that Irwin take him to his family and, more importantly, change them back. But for all the anger shaking his limps, those five reminded Eren that fury hadn’t gotten him very far. The Corporal, Connie, Sasha, Hanji, and Jean. They’d helped. His friends had gotten him here. Calmly. Practically.

In control.

Eren sucked in a breath. Right.

“What’s wrong, Eren? Is that it? Do tell me if you’re finished with your tantrum because—”

“I want a job,” Eren interrupted. Everyone, assistants and Irwin alike, stilled. Eren grinned widely at the reaction.

“Give me a job.” He demanded.

“Absolutely not.” Irwin’s voice had been cold before. Now it was positively arctic.

“Give me a job, please.” Eren rolled the last word, enjoying how Irwin’s jaw ticked. Behind him five sets of eyes were exchanging glances. Eren thought he saw Oluo giving him a quick thumbs up and he was about to return it, feeling cheeky and daring, when Irwin suddenly appeared an inch from his nose. Eren tried quickly to swallow his cry instead. He hadn’t seen him move. Not at all. Just—one second Irwin was a good six feet away, and the next he wasn’t. Eren could smell his breath easily now; something stale that was only partially covered by a mint hidden beneath his tongue. He could see it gleaming when Irwin spoke.

Eren opened his mouth to tell him to back the fuck up but found that his lips had disappeared again. Irwin smiled thinly. “I can do this all day, Eren. You deserve it after all. Such racket. Honestly, what makes you think I’d give you a job?” Irwin slid even closer until, bending, his nose brushed Eren’s cheek. “Hmm? A stupid, greedy, self-centered little boy. Puny and hotheaded.” Irwin pinched his thin arm before smacking the back of his head. Eren winched; gritted his teeth. “You’re useless to me, boy. This is a high quality establishment after all. The spirits, they come here to replenish themselves. There’s a certain level of excellence I’m expected to maintain. And you… you don’t fit into that equation. So why, Eren? What made you think you’d be of use to me? Could it be that someone lied to you? Someone other than your precious Corporal?” His smile grew when Eren looked away. “Of course I saw your little tet-a-tet outside. But inside… well. There’s more to keep track of in here. So who was the liar, Eren? C’mon. You can tell me…” His hand rose and once more Eren’s voice returned.

“Give me a job!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH.”

Five spirits jumped, one human flinched, and a man with a voice like steel disappeared again. Eren felt Irwin reappear behind him, both hands wrapped around his neck. His fingers were cold as they stroked along his skin and Eren trembled.

“Or maybe I will give you a job,” he whispered. “The hardest, most brutal job I can think of. Perhaps something dealing with… water?” The fingers tightened in response to Eren’s stiffening spine. “Yes. I think that will work out nicely, don’t you? This is a bathhouse after all, but not all the water here is warm or fragrantly scented.” Eren felt Irwin breathing against his hair. Shaking, he tried to pull away but there was simply nowhere to go. “There’s a lake out back you see, a simple structure that holds the water we’ve discarded. You know the kind, Eren. Icy, dirty, thick enough to fill even your loud-mouth lungs. Now normally I’d never send a little boy to a place like that, but sometimes our guests lose things—coins, the occasional ring—and they wind up in that deposit. Why don’t you be a dear and go look for me, hmm?”

Eren was shaking in earnest now. Not the slight tremble that had taken hold when Irwin had first appeared behind him, but a full-blown vibration that knocked his knees together. He couldn’t think of anything but getting away, yet whatever it was, fear or magic, kept him rooted in place. Eren could hear a low buzzing and wondered, ridiculously, if Irwin kept bees in his office. It only occurred to him that he might be fainting when a gray sheen overlaid his vision. Everything blurred.

Everything, that is, except for the five assistants. Irwin was still curled against him and the tiny, still-working part of Eren’s brain informed him that he wasn’t looking up. He couldn’t seem them. Petra and the others must have realized it too. She was the one who began it. Lifting her hand—just a little—she extended her pointer and middle fingers, twirling them around and around. With a nudge Oluo started up… then Mike… Gunther and Erd together. The five of them, silent and still except for their right hands moving: the sign for continuance. Keep going.

Say it again.

“I want a job,” Eren croaked.

“No.”

“…Yes.”

“No!”

“I want a job…”

“Oh…very well.”

Irwin sounded indifferent then, the words slipping easily from his lips, but Eren could feel his nails carving half-moons into his skin. He stepped away and Eren breathed again.

“Honestly. I can’t believe I ever took such a ridiculous oath. Giving anyone a job who asked…” Irwin straightened his jacket, casting a disgusted look back at Eren. “Petra, draw up the paperwork, won’t you? I have more important things to deal with.” A paper sprung to life in Irwin’s hand and he handed it to Petra. As they crossed paths Eren realized dumbly that he really couldn’t feel his legs anymore. He hit the floor—for what? The hundredth time today?—and just let himself stay there.

Eren hardly noticed when Petra scurried over, nor when she hesitated, biting her lip in what might have been trepidation. He entirely missed her jogging back to Irwin, gesturing between the papers and her own, still lips. Eren only roused when he heard Irwin sigh, “Oh very well. If you insist.”

That voice was always going to snag his attention, wasn’t it? He’d hear it in his dreams.

Before he could think on it any more though Petra was once again beside him. This time she smiled and a soft voice came whispering out.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “Ah—it’s been a while.” As one they looked up at Irwin, but he was engrossed now in his own conversation. A small crystal suspended itself before him and he addressed it in clipped tones, only sparing the two of them an infrequent glare. Catching their look he gave a shark’s grin and moved to the next room, still talking. His gait was languid, but Eren noted that his fists were still clenched.

“He’s displeased,” Petra said. With practice her voice proved soothing and Eren relaxed just a little. Behind her the other four nodded in agreement. They hadn’t moved though; still mute. “Here, uh, Eren. You need to sign this. Quickly.” She held out a paper covered in symbols Eren didn’t recognize. There didn’t appear to be paragraphs, or even sentences—at least not that he could read. The only variation lay in a blank line at the bottom, next to his own name in printed letters.

“I can’t read this,” he said. Were they even words?

“I know, I know. That’s why he’s allowing me to speak. The enchantment dictates that you understand what you’re getting into…sort of at least.” Petra gave him a once over. She nodded sharply. “But it looks like you already have a pretty good idea. Really,” she inched forward on her knees, her whisper dropping even lower. “I should be encouraging you to run.”

“No.” Eren said. Here, in this office, that was the one thing he was sure of. “I won’t.”

“Yeah. I sort of figured.” To his embarrassment Petra tweaked his cheek fondly. Behind her Oluo’s jaw dropped. “If you really insist on staying—”

“He has my family!”

“I know, Eren.” She put a finger to her lips and Eren quieted. “If you insist on staying, then having a job is the safest thing for you. Irwin can’t hurt you… as much. Not if you’re in his employ. The magic won’t let him. But there are consequences.” Her face twisted.

“Consequences?”

“Just sign. Do it now, or run before he comes back.”

So Eren grabbed the pen she offered and slapped the paper down onto the rug. He signed his name, even though Mikasa’s was the only one he could think of then and there. His hand shook and a small hole appeared next to the second ‘e.’ He wished he had another hand to hold.

“Eren Yeager,” Petra murmured, taking the paper back. “That’s a lovely name. I’m sorry you have to lose it.”

“Lose—? What?”

But at that moment Erd began waving frantically, gesturing towards the side room. Irwin was returning. Equally anxious Petra grabbed hold of Eren’s shirt and tugged him forward, pressing her lips against his ear. Despite the rough treatment and a gesture reminiscent of what Irwin had done, Eren felt no threat from Petra. His instincts were confirmed when she said:

“The Corporal. Tell him we’re loyal. Always.”

Eren nodded once against her hair just as Irwin strolled back into the room.

“My, my. It is difficult to find trusted workers. Isn’t there a human saying for that, Eren? ‘If you want something done well, do it yourself’? Though of course, you’re in my employ now, aren’t you? Will you do things well for me?” He looked down at the two of them on the floor and Eren didn’t bother answering. “I suppose we’ll see. Petra? I take it everything is in order?” Irwin’s eyes flicked over to Erd and it was clear that he knew everything that had gone on during his absence. What was worse what that he obviously didn’t care.

“Yes, sir.” Petra said. “Here’s his—”

“Yes, yes, very good. No need to blab about it, dear.” With a lazy gesture Petra’s voice was gone once more. The guys behind her, obviously angry, nevertheless lined back up as she came to join them. The five returned to their almost statuesque existence.

Irwin signaled for Eren to rise, which he did obediently, wary of whatever ‘consequences’ Petra had been speaking of. Irwin only smiled.

“Are you pleased now that you’ve finally gotten your job?”

Silence.

“Feeling victorious?”

Silence.

“Oh come now, Eren.” Silence again—just to spite him. “Very well then. Hmm. Eren. Eren, Eren, Eren. It is a fine name isn’t it? I’m quite glad it’s mine now.”

“What…?” But to Eren’s horror Irwin took his contract and literally lifted his name off the page. The words rose high before seeping into the skin of his palm. He didn’t understand it, certainly couldn’t explain it, but watching his name become a part of that monster sickened Eren like nothing else so far. Really, if he’d had time to think it over it would have been obvious. He’d lost everything this day: a mom, a dad, a sister, access to his world, and a confidence of what was possible in it. He’d even lost his shoes. Eren couldn’t, wouldn’t lose his name too.

“Hey!” Eren surged forward. “Hey, hey, hey, you fucker! Give that back—!”

Irwin sighed. “And here we go again. Honestly, your moods are a mercurial as the sea you fear. Although…” He held up the contract, shaking it slightly. “You will need a new name, won’t you, now that I own yours. Something for the boy with the rude, shifting temperament. Ha! That’s it then. Shifter. Yes… do you like that? You’ll be Shifter from now on, boy. Not the most creative name, I’ll give you that, but like I said before, your family has a talent for encouraging the obvious, the most basic. The vulgar become literal monsters, their son announces his faults. I quite like it. Ah—Corporal. So glad you could join us.”

“You called for me, sir?”

Eren halted in his charge, whirling towards the door. There. He was here. Corporal. Despite it all Eren felt a heat rising up in his chest. A wonderful heat that drove out the cold that Irwin had infused in his bones. Eren wasn’t the only one either. The five to his left stood a little taller in the Corporal’s presence. All of them appeared to glow.

“Corporal, would you be so kind as to escort my new employee downstairs? I’m done with him. For now.”

“Of course, sir.” The Corporal turned his way. “Well? What’s your name, kid?”

Hearing the Corporal call him ‘kid’ was almost a relief… until he realized exactly what he’d been asked.

“Oh. It’s…” Something. Something important… right? His mother had given it to him. And his father yelled it when he was frustrated. He’d whispered it to Mikasa right before they were pulled beneath the waves. Of course it was important, it was his name. But for all that he just couldn’t form the syllables. They were lost, flitting across his tongue before they could fully be formed. With a swallow that felt like defeat he finally ground out, “Shifter.”

“Got it. C’mon then, Shifter. I haven’t got all day.”

So he went forward, not out of obedience, but through an equal desire to move away from Irwin and toward one of his few friends here. After all, the Corporal had kept him safe so far. And they were together again. It was like his mom used to say, the night had to get completely dark before you could see the dawn. This was it then. This was his dawn, and it was walking ahead with two swords strapped at its sides.

The Corporal marched and Eren blindly followed.

Chapter Text

Eren kept close on the Corporal’s heels the entire way back. Walking the halls took a fair bit longer than flying through them and it gave him plenty of time to process everything that had occurred. Meeting Irwin, getting a job, seeing a familiar face… Eren forced his aching body into a jog until he was side-by-side with the Corporal.

“Hey,” he said.

“Keep quiet, brat,” was the growled response and Eren nodded, though admittedly he slumped a little bit. It made sense though, right? They were still so close to Irwin’s office. They couldn’t talk here. He knew that. He wasn’t stupid. Eren picked up his pace, chewing on a dirtied knuckled.

“That’s disgusting,” Corporal said. He slapped his hand away.

Nothing else was said until they reached the elevator.

The doors closed, Eren watched them fall three floors… and then he broke. He closed the distance between them and grabbed ahold of the Corporal’s tunic. He grinned and continued grinning, even when he was shoved away.

“I did it,” Eren crowed, stumbling only a little. “I did it! I got that bastard to give me a job so that’s it right? Where are my parents? Where’s Mikasa? I got the job, now I want to go home. Corporal? Hey!”

He only stared straight ahead. Eren barely got a twitch when he shoved him—hard. Another hit landed against his ribs. After a few more frustrated blows—and screams—Eren came around to the front. He stood toe-to-toe with the Corporal and did his best to emphasize their height different. He may be a kid, but he was a tall kid and he could definitely kick this guy’s ass if he wanted to and god dammit, why wouldn’t he say anything?

“Talk to me,” Eren demanded. When that didn’t work he glanced worriedly back at the elevator’s decreasing numbers. Vibrating, he added a tart, “Please?”

“Are you done then?” the Corporal asked. He raised an eyebrow at Eren, y looking every bit the disapproving adult.

“You sound like Irwin when you say that,” Eren shot back. He’d barely gotten out the second syllable before he was doubled over, the Corporal’s fist pulling back. Eren choked on the pain exploding around his stomach, but before he could collapse completely he felt small—and obviously lethal—hands hauling him back up.

“Don’t insult me, shitty brat.” The Corporal hissed. “I’m willing to put up with a lot, but being compared to that… beast is not something I tolerate. Got it?” Eren nodded frantically. “Now listen, and listen closely.” The Corporal’s eyes flicked up. They were almost to the first floor. “You need to be smart to survive this hell hole and alienating your one fucking ally is about as smart as the decisions that landed you here. I’m not the fuckwit human who got himself stuck in the spirit world, am I?” Eren shook his head this time. His nose was nearly pressed against the Corporal’s collarbone. He felt it when Corporal suddenly let out a sigh and before Eren knew what was happening, a far more comforting hand was pressed against the back of his head, encouraging him to lean in. He flinched.

“C’mon. Relax, brat.” The Corporal said. His fingers began hesitantly carding through his hair. “I’m not going to hit you again. Fuck. I didn’t mean to hit you in the first place. I just—shit. Just don’t compare me to him, okay? Aw no, kid, fucking hell. Don’t cry—”

It was pretty ridiculous considering that there wasn’t anything to even cry about. Honestly, Eren had been hit way harder by idiots around his village and now, pliant and sniffling against the Corporal’s neck, he realized that his stomach barely hurt anymore. It was fine. The Corporal knew what he was about. Talk shit get hit, right? He could take it. But god if Eren didn’t feel like he was breath away from collapsing. A low buzzing still filled his ears and it took him a minute to realize that the Corporal was still speaking.

“—you gotta be smart, you hear me? That means not talking about this cluster-fuck. Ever. Not unless I give the okay. If you do Irwin will be on us faster than flies on shit. Keep a low profile, brat, for fuck’s sake.”

A low profile? For how long? “I’m not going home anytime soon, am I?” Eren asked. His lips felt swollen.

The Corporal’s fingers tightened for just a second. Then he was pushing Eren away. “No,” he answered. “Not likely. Now pull yourself together. I’m not your friend out there, kid, I’m Irwin’s dog. You say ‘yes, sir’ and try not to piss anyone off. It’ll be hard, I know, but fuck me if I’m not an optimist.” The Corporal hesitated, drawing in on himself just a bit. It was enough of a change to perk Eren up.

“Corporal?”

The elevator began to slow. The Corporal fidgeted. Just a little.

“We okay, brat?” he asked.

Were they? Eren ran a hand over his stomach… then extended it. “Yeah,” he said, sincerely. “We’re fine.”

“Good. Then follow my lead.”

Instead of taking Eren’s hand Corporal grabbed his forearm, dragging him backwards out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened. Well used to this by now Eren just peddled backwards. He was too tired to put up a fight anyway.

They came out into what appeared to be a kitchen area. Countertops laden with ingredients lined the walls and behind them stood spirits of every sort, chopping, stewing, salting, and plating dishes that were then whisked away as quickly as they were made. Sluggishly, Eren wondered if Marco was down here somewhere and if Jean had found him yet. He started peering at every human-ish boy, rejecting almost twenty before he remembered that he hadn’t a clue what Marco looked like. Hell, Eren didn’t even know if he was a human-looking spirit. Jean might well be dating one of the toads.

“That would work,” Eren muttered to himself, scrubbing at his eyes. “He kinda looks like a horse. The horse and the toad. How romantic.”

“What are you going on about, brat?”

“Nothing.”

“Then shut up.” Corporal dragged him further, right into the thick of a growing crowd. They stopped abruptly and Eren plowed into the back of his legs, nearly groaning at the soft cotton against his cheek, better than any pillow. Finally, with them holding still he noticed that more than one spirit was shooting looks their way. Some regarded Corporal with a combination of respect, envy, and even a little fear, while those close enough to smell Eren plugged their noses and hurried away. He only huffed at them in turn, but gave up on passivity when one fishy-looking spirit flapped a fin at him in a gesture that despite having no fingers was obviously meant to insult. Eren raised his own hand in retaliation… then dropped it. He was just too tired.

“Soon, kid.” Corporal whispered and then his voice rose above all their heads. “Listen up! Yes, that means you too, asshole. You’d best be taking a shit; that’s the only reason you should be scowling at me like that. The rest of you: get your heads outta your asses and pipe down. We’ve got a newbie here,” Corporal shook Eren by one shoulder until he felt like a bobble-head. “Scrawny, kinda stupid, but worth more than half of you shits put together. Who wants him?”

Silence. Then, like a wave rising dozens of voices started calling out at once. Most of it wasn’t exactly complimentary. One voice stood above the rest though and Eren realized it was purely due to proximity. Another toad waved a cleaver at his back, grunting at him in a hiccupping, gravely voice.

“What am I supposed to do with him?” he said. “Scrawny is right! No guest wants to be eating that.”

Corporal drawled that he wasn’t suggesting anything of the kind at the same time that Eren tiredly pulled forward. The hand at his shoulder stopped him easily enough, but Eren could feel the Corporal’s nails digging through his T-shirt. He was pretty sure that anger wasn’t directed his way and that knowledge warmed the cold spots in his stomach left over from his… encounter with Irwin. Eren leaned back until he felt the press of Corporal’s sword. Yawning, he settled for tightly crossing his arms.

“See that,” another called out. “I knew he’d be lazy. He’s not coming with me.”

“All humans are lazy. Liars too. And they smell.”

“Boy, do they ever!”

“I can smell him from here…”

“—not getting near my food I’m telling you that—”

“Honestly, honestly how disgusting—”

“Oi, shut it, you dipshits.” Corporal scrubbed the hand not keeping Eren close through his hair. He let out a sign only one person was close enough to hear. “Three days of eating our food and his smell will go away, alright?—not that any of you are in a position to complain. Fucking hypocrites. Listen, I’m not asking here. He’s already got a contract with Irwin signed and dated.” That drew a surprised murmur from the crowd. “So who’ll it be? Don’t worry about work ethic. I’ve already promised the brat that I’ll cut off his legs if he doesn’t pull his weight; right at the knees, so quit bitching.” Against the fold of Corporal’s sleeve Eren hid a smile, remembering their first meeting. He laughed deliriously, even as the crowd grew more complacent, their words considering. “Come on, come on. I have a dump of my own to take you know—”

“I’ll take him!”

Everyone turned as something with mussed hair and thick glasses pushed its way through. Eren didn’t know whether to keep laughing or stop crying… or maybe just run away all together. His leaden legs wouldn’t get far, but he could try.

“Hi, Hanji” he murmured.

“Heeeeey. Wow. You really made it, didn’t you? Look at my little human boy. I’m so proud!” With little warning—other than Corporal getting out of the way—Hanji scooped Eren up into her arms. She was surprisingly strong; supporting his upper-body completely while his feet dangled a few inches off the ground. Eren thought about pushing her away, but was it really worth it? Besides, Hanji had been working with some kind of dough. Specks of flour were dotted along her neck and there was a yeasty smell still clinging to her hair. Eren nodded in defeat until his head rested against her shoulder. He closed his eyes and imagined that maybe, just maybe, he and Mikasa were waiting at home for their bread to finish. Please, please, maybe.

Instead Hanji dumped Eren back onto his feet. Around them the crowd was dispersing, no doubt relieved and eager to scurry away.

“There you go,” Eren heard one girl whisper. “Hanji’s crazy about humans! That’s perfect then.”

Her friend giggled. “They’re made for each other… if you get my meaning.”

“Oh ew, ew, ewwwwww!”

Hanji ignored them all. Turning Eren so that she could wrap her arms about his shoulders—which really, really wasn’t helping—she grinned down at Corporal. He, in turn, scowled.

“You’re a girl, four-eyes,” he said.
“Yeah. So?” Hanji experimentally poked at a boob.

“So you can’t go taking the brat off to your residence hall.”

“Says who? Is there a rule against it? C’mon, Corporal, captain, sir! Who else is going to take this cutie?”

“No one, sir.” Eren answered for her. He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Really.” Sure, it would be a little weird sleeping with a bunch of girls, but it wasn’t as if he and his mom hadn’t slept together before and he’d shared a bed with Mikasa since the day she’d come home. Any bed, even one shared with a toad, sounded absolutely amazing right now.

Corporal opened his mouth, no doubt to argue further, but at that moment a low whistle sounded around them. Eren jumped slightly—it was just like when Irwin had spoken to him in the hall, directly next to his ear. Hanji stiffened and Corporal’s face twisted into something awful; something that made Eren look and away and convinced him that he hadn’t actually been scowling before. He was now though. Everyone else though seemed not to hear. They went along with their complex, bustling business.

Corporal turned sharply on his heel. “That’s Irwin. You got him?”

Hanji’s nodded. “Sure thing, sir.”

“…Good.”

Without looking back, Corporal flew off, his feet once more impossibly skimming the ground. Eren watched him until he was lost to the crowd and when he was gone he furiously squashed the urge to call him back. That wouldn’t be smart of course. Eren understood that now.

“He’ll be okay?” he asked instead.

“Corporal? You betcha. His social skills might be, ah, in short supply,” Hanji snickered. “But he’s as strong as they come. Stronger, probably. C’mon now, I’m more worried about you. Do all you humans get tired so easily?”

Eren yawned again in answer as Hanji started trotting them through the kitchens. Everyone continued to move aside as they passed, noses up and turned away. Eren could care less. Each step felt like agony, with the balls of his feet aching and his calves shivering like jelly. Smells of sauces and fish wafted past and in the pit of his stomach Eren felt a churning that might have been hunger. He ignored it. Even if someone had offered him food he wouldn’t have taken it, the effort of eating too tiring to contemplate. Eren relied entirely on Hanji to guide them, letting her endless babble rock him.

“—won’t mind it here, we’re not a bad bunch, I swear! And I’ll help you out, Eren. Don’t go worrying about that. But seriously though—seriously—whatever you need just ask. We’re friends, right? Jean’s a big fan of yours now too, not that he’ll admit it… and Marco will love you. He loves everyone. And Krista! I definitely have to introduce you two later. She’s, oh, about six hundred years older than you? Something like that. You look the same age though, isn’t that funny? You humans; always changing. It’s fascinating. Hmm… Ymir might take some convincing though. ‘Territorial’ is a pretty good word—”

Eren nodded endlessly, hearing none of it. That is, until a sharp nail poked his side.

“What?”

“I said, what’s your name?” Eren froze but Hanji just scooted him along, smiling just a little too much. “It happens!” she reassured. “But it’s weird, huh? We knew each other and everything, met before, blah blah blah. I’m sure you mentioned your name when we met, but now? Poof! Right outta my head. Like I said, it happens, but you gotta admit, it is a little strange. Oh well. I must just be scatter brained I guess.” Hanji was laying it on a little thick. She side-eyed him with another smile that was somehow devastated. She knew exactly what Irwin had taken from him, even if she couldn’t remember his name herself.

Eren choked. He hadn’t even realized it, but a part of him had hoped that Hanji would remember his name—somehow. He tried to form the syllabus through pure muscle memory but, just like in Irwin’s office, they wouldn’t come… and Eren was almost too tired to care. Almost.

“Shifter,” he whispered.

“Shifter, huh? That’s… nice.”

“No it’s not.”

Hanji didn’t press the issue.

It hardly mattered. Before he knew it they were in a large, multi-windowed room that was located who only knew where in this labyrinth. Hanji, consumed with manic energy, threw open a cupboard and began pulling out uniforms, letting the stacks on the bottom hazardously tumble out. The whole time she kept talking. Eren was suddenly, unquestionably sure that she talked in her sleep as well.

She sucked on her lower lip. “You don’t make this easy do you? You’re such a tiny thing. None of this is going to fit you…”

Without the momentum of walking gone standing just seemed too much. Slowly Eren sunk down until he was sitting on his heels, arms clasped around his knees and forehead buried.

“I don’t feel so good,” he admitted to the floor.

“Oh, poor thing.” Briefly there were fingers in his hair and for one horrible moment Eren thought he was going to cry—again. But he knew that if he started now, with his eyes already stinging from lack of sleep, he’d never ever stop. He’d cry and cry until his tears filled up the entire room, until all the mats scattered around his feet were floating in his own salt ocean. He’d be like Alice, stupid, lucky Alice whose family was right above her head, just a dream away. Eren pinched his knees until they burned. His story wasn’t a dream, and unlike Alice he hadn’t been a stupid kid chasing rabbits down hole. He’d told his family they shouldn’t eat there. He’d told them and they didn’t listen! It wasn’t fair and if Eren had been able to feel anything other than exhaustion he might have given in to anger.

“Here we are.” Hanji’s voice was softer now. She gently unfurled him. “I found one that’s munchkin-sized in the back.” She proudly held up the shirt, pant, and apron combo.

“Have you read the Wizard of Oz?” Eren slurred. He tugged his grass-stained t-shirt over his head.

“Wizard? Irwin’s the only wizard in these parts, Eren. Besides… well, never mind. Here, step into these. Now is Oz a human city? You’ve got so many of them I can’t keep track.”

Eren fumbled with the pant’s drawstring. Hanji set his hands aside. “No. It’s a story. Dad used to tell it to me...”

“Ah.” It was clear from Hanji’s tone she had little idea what to make of that.

“You said ‘munchkin.’” Eren accused.

“Silly, munchkins work in the supply rooms. We’re just lucky one of their uniforms got mixed in with our load.”

“…Oh.” Eren followed Hanji into an adjacent room, this one already stuffed with sleeping occupants. Coordination gone, he couldn’t exactly tiptoe amongst the girls so Hanji just scooped him up. Within seconds Eren was settled on a free mat in the far corner, a blanket drawn up to his chin. It was a dark blue color and the wool rippled when Hanji tugged at it. Eren shut his eyes.

“You know Alice?” he asked, picturing droplets behind his eyelids. They fell steadily like rain. Or maybe tears.

“No.” Hanji’s voice came from far away. “Sleep now, kiddo. Go on.”

Eren opened his mouth—don’t call me kiddo—but all that came out was a sigh. He followed the expelled air and rolled to his side, curling into a protective ball. There, warm beneath his blanket and Hanji’s hands, Eren slept.

***

If the meadow they’d stumbled across on moving day had been beautiful, it was nothing compared to this. Flowers—in rows so tall and dense they resembled a forest far more than they did a garden. The smell was heady but not overpowering, the temperature warm but not humid. Eren saw petals in every shade of beauty imaginable, a variety so great that even his mom would have difficulty naming them all.

His mom. Where was she?

As if summoning her Eren felt another hand in his, tugging him along. They were moving, the flowers brushing against them as they passed with gentleness attributably to old friends. Eren looked down, expecting to see his mother’s clean-cut nails, but the fingers were shorter, bearing a different kind of grace. They were small and warm—but not Mikasa’s—unquestionably a man’s—but not his father’s. Eren flexed his fingers and felt callouses brushing his skin.

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was lost among the flowers.

Eren looked up, his head weighted, and this time there was a body for him to see. It was indeed a man. Tinnier than him, but with muscles roping up along his arms. He had black hair that contrasted with the pastels around them and two swords strapped formidably to his waist. Straining his ears Eren could just make out the rhythmic clank as the knocked against his legs, but mostly his mind was filled with the rustle of flowers.

“Who are you?” Eren asked again. He received no answer. The man did not turn.

Eren followed him anyway.

It was some time, a time of nothing but flowers and footfalls, before Eren realized that they were picking up the pace. From a walk, to a trot, to a full out jog. Their arms were no longer bent and brushing, but extended until Eren felt his shoulder straining to keep up. Still the hand urged him on. The flowers did too. Instead of swaying peacefully an unseen wind had entered to beat at their stems. They tangled amongst each other and battered Eren’s face. He tried to call out—who are you, stop, please—but when he did another flower brushed his cheek. This time Eren came away wet.

Wet. He lifted his other hand and felt the moisture seeping away. Dew? No. Too much, too much. The flowers were growing closer and each time they touched him Eren felt cold, wet remains. The man pulled him through an underpass of ivy—running now, outright sprinting—and as they entered a shower fell on them both. Eren flung the water from his eyes, then wished that he still couldn’t see.

The flowers were melting. Their stems ran into the earth and their petals scattered droplets like seeds. The ground around them was sloshing now. Eren felt his sneakers fill; then the water touched his bear legs, working its way up his calves. Gasping, he reached forward to clasp the man’s arm with his other hand. Eren didn’t care if his fingernails cut, he needed the man to turn and notice him. He needed help. He needed, needed something because otherwise he was going to—

On the next step Eren plunged into water that went infinitely over his head. A sea. He scrambled to keep hold of the man’s hand but it was already gone. Wrenched away. The only thing that kept Eren from screaming was the knowledge that, if he did, gallons of the water would pour into his stomach and flood his lungs. All he could do was star upwards at the fading sunlight, shaking as he was dragged deeper and deeper below. On his left a few of the flowers floated past, their petals bloated.

Then—a breach. Something tore through that patch of sunlight, now no bigger than a quarter. Eren knew it could only be the man. The one he’d been following. Trusting. His face was in shadow but his arms tore through the water, blindingly white against the sea’s blue tones. Eren reached up desperately, instinctually. After all, this felt familiar. He thought about reaching with his right hand as well as his left, but wasn’t it already holding something? Something important. He kept a tight hold on a girl’s wrist while his other hand fought against the waves. Reaching. Keep reaching.

Then the man was there. But he wasn’t a man. Eren couldn’t see, his eyes burned with salt and his body was numb with cold. Something was there though, and it looked like he was mouthing something. His name. What was his name? He couldn’t remember, and the man couldn’t be saying it because he wasn’t a man and he didn’t have a mouth like a man did. Eren heard it though, rippling through his mind like the sea between his ears. But he couldn’t grasp at it and, god, he didn’t care because this something was here right when Eren needed it—the girl needed it too (was she okay? Please let her be okay)— it was reaching for him. Them. Eren reached back with everything he had and when his fingers finally connected he felt the touch of scales—

Then he woke up.

With a watery gasp Eren shot up, clutching his left hand. Someone had just touched him. Hadn’t they?

“Corporal?” he asked, but no one was there.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

Eren scrubbed the grit from his eyes and blearily looked around. He was in a room with maybe twenty other people, spirits, and all of them were asleep. Sitting up completely a blue blanket puddled in his lap. Eren couldn’t remember anyone putting him to bed; could barely remember coming up here at all. It must have been Hanji… and sure enough she was dead to the world on the mat by his feet, her hair tickling his bare foot.

“Maaaaah I don’ want spouts on tha’…” Hanji grumbled into her pillow, then smacked her lips.

Eren smiled. “You really do talk in your sleep. Jeez.”

Trying to move his legs out of the way as quietly as possible, Eren winced when a jarring sound came from his left. He blinked, staring at the wrinkled paper now stuck to his hand. It had been tucked against his side, far underneath the blanket. Out of sight and sure to catch his attention.

Eren unfolded it to find a note, written in a hand he recognized as the Corporal’s. He didn’t know how, he’d never seen him write anything of course, but it suited his personality: a slanting text that spoke of confidence if not formal education. Eren’s smile remained fixed and only grew as he read the message.

'Meet me at the bridge. I’ll take you to your family.'

“You were here,” he whispered, and then gasped. Eren set into motion, tripping and hopping in turns. His family! Mom, Dad, Mikasa. They were safe and he was going to see them, just like the Corporal had promised.

Hardly breathing Eren tore from his bed. There wasn’t a single moment to lose.

Chapter Text

Tearing from his bed while simultaneously trying not to wake anyone wasn’t exactly an easy task, but Eren managed. He realized quickly after mistakenly trampling Hanji’s fingers, that it would take nothing less than a detonated bomb to wake her up. Every one else just snuffled sleepily as he tiptoed by. Even the sunlight did little to stir them. It streamed through the windows, warming the room and the faces that peeked out from beneath blankets. As Eren rose, everyone else continued to sleep soundly.

It did make a certain amount of sense. Anyone who worked through the night had to sleep during the day, right? Yet as Eren stretched he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what day it was. He couldn’t have slept more than a few hours, yet his body felt refreshingly limber, like he’d been out for days. Peeking outside Eren saw that the birds were awake too and the sun was high over the forest’s trees. So it was what? A little before noon? That didn’t make much sense. He’d spent hours running around the bathhouse last night, into the early morning surely, and he’d definitely slept longer than what the sun was telling him he had.

Eren squinted at it and huffed. Then again, Corporal had mentioned that Irwin made it night when he wanted night. For all Eren knew, he might be able to keep the day at bay too.

But did he care? Not right now he didn’t. However unnatural, the sun was still shining and his family was waiting for him somewhere below. Eren bounced. He waited only until he was out of the bedroom before crouching into a full-blown sprint.

It felt great to run again. He’d been dragged and pushed and hidden far too much lately. As he flew down steps Eren let out a whoop that bounced off the empty corridors. It wasn’t like he knew where he was going, but that was half the fun. He just kept heading down until, gasping, he spotted a familiar elevator. With a crank of the lever and a stitch in his side Eren was heading down to the boiler room.

Back through the storage rooms and through the little door. Eren popped his head out first.

“Sasha?” he whispered. “Connie?”

They too were asleep. Sasha had commandeered the ledge, curled up with only her arm as a pillow and an extra pair of overalls for warmth. It looked like she’d given up halfway through another request for water. Connie wasn’t much better. He hadn’t even managed to lie down. He sat with his back to the wall of drawers, a bit of drool leaking from his open mouth.

Sneaking by Eren started pulling out some of the drawers on the other side as quietly as he could. He found an infinite variety of bath salts—so pungent they left him sneezing, frantically trying to muffle the sound against his shoulder—collections of various tools, and one drawer that had a false bottom with packets of crackers hidden beneath. No doubt that was Connie’s. Eren would bet a lot that Sasha didn’t have the self-control to actually hoard food. He closed the drawer with a snap. Lots of interesting things but nothing resembling blankets. With a frustrated growl Eren was just about to give up when he heard a tiny squeak by his foot.

“Oh,” he said. “Hey there.”

It was one of Connie’s soot creatures, scrubbing at its eyes like it too had been asleep. Catching Eren’s gaze it squeaked happily again and pointed towards a drawer a few feet above his head. Sure enough, after a bit of reaching Eren came away with a pile of scratchy blankets.

“Thanks,” he whispered and hurried to cover his friends. Because they were his friends, weren’t they? Who cared if they hadn’t known each other long? Eren didn’t. He tucked the edges around Sasha and grinned when she relaxed more fully, letting out a contented sigh.

A new plan then: see his family, get Corporal to change them back, find a way to kick Irwin’s ass (after he quit first, duh), get home, then rub his newfound friends in Dad’s face. Eren couldn’t wait.

And in the soothing quiet of the boiler room all of that seemed not only possible but also remarkably simple. Dream, tears, threats… they belonged to another day. As Corporal would probably say, fuck ‘em.

Eren was nearly whistling when he hopped back down from the ledge… and stopped when he found some hundred little eyes peering up at him.

“Um hey, guys… I don’t have your breakfast or anything.”

Did the soot balls just droop?

“Sorry.”

They recovered quickly though and as Eren tried to make his way out of the boiler room they swarmed around his legs, squeaking madly. He tried to shush them, gesturing firmly to Connie and Sasha, but their volume only increased. It got to the point where he couldn’t move without being in danger of stepping on one. Eren crouched, glaring at the closest group of them.

“I’m in a hurry,” he hissed. “I don’t have time to play!”

Fervent squeaking. It would probably help if Eren spoke soot. Did they even speak human? For all he knew, they might only speak boiler-worker…

He tried to nudge them gently aside. “Seriously I don’t have time for this. I’m going to see my family—”

That caught their attention. There was a brief, blessed moment of silence before they started squeaking even more passionately, sounding like a group of crazed mice. Eren glanced guiltily towards Connie but he only rolled over with a snore and a stretch (finally succeeding in lying down). When Eren looked back the soot creatures were nodding at him. Some of them thumped his toes triumphantly.

“Yeah, yeah it’s a good thing. But that means I need to go—hey! What are you—?”

The little balls weren’t just touching his feet, they were swarming them. The ones closest to Eren covered his skin to his ankles and stared up at him, seriously, before crawling back off and repeating the process. It took Eren a moment, but when he asked, “Shoes?” they all cheered happily.

“I haven’t got them.” Eren groaned when they continued to pester him. “C’mon, it’s not that big a deal. I ran around barefoot all the time at home! Listen, I really can’t…hell.”

Talking to them did nothing. It was like arguing with a swarm of two year olds. They just kept nudging him back towards the door, chirping and chirping. Eren finally lost his patience and kicked out at a bunch of them. Most nimbly avoided his foot while the rest clung on tightly, their squeaky voices confirming that they viewed it more as a carnival ride than an act of violence. Still, while rolling his eyes Eren gave the closest ones a quick pat in apology.

“Okay, sorry, but leave me the fuck alone. I don’t even have them anymore! Hanji’s the one who—huh?”

It was like a switch had been thrown. All of the soot balls froze… then began nodding frantically, practically vibrating. Half swarmed forward to keep Eren in place while the rest ran full pelt into their holes, arms raised and pumping.

“Hey, wait! Where are you…?”

Shockingly, it didn’t take long. Within seconds they’d returned and Eren gapped at the shoes they had balanced over their heads. Those were his alright, grubby laces and all.

Eren gingerly took the offered footwear. The soot balls gurgled happily as he started pulling them on.

“You got these from Hanji?” He asked. More nodding. Eren scrapped some dirt off the heel, his hands feeling slightly numb. “There is noooooooo way you guys got all the way up there and back down that fast.” They just tiled their heads at him curiously. “That’s inhuman… not that you’re human. Wait.” Feeling torn, he looked between the door and his own, gurgling stomach. He’d left the bathhouse so quickly…

Eren bent down close. One soot ball started scrubbing at his nose. “Can you guys get something from the kitchen?” He whispered. “Like, super quick?” They cheered, immediately running off.

“Onigiri!” Eren called as quietly as he could. Mikasa’s favorite. She’d probably be really hungry after all this.

Sure enough, just seconds later Eren had a towel wrapped around two handfuls of food. The cloth still felt warm from the kitchen’s steam. He could smell the meat hidden inside but, mouth watering, he forcibly tucked the whole package beneath his shirt. There’d be plenty of time to eat when he was with his family.

The soot balls stood swaying, gazing up at him.

“Can I go now?”

Apparently yes. They moved aside and Eren tried to smile his thanks while passing, but really he just ran. He only cast another, quick command behind him to keep it down already. Then he was through the door, down the hall, and out into the clean air—for the first time in what felt like forever. The steps were to his left and the forest stretched out to his right. Between them, some ways off in the distance, were the restaurants. And right where the restaurants ended was the bridge, where Corporal was waiting for him. Feeling lighter than the breeze, Eren ran.

Soon—but hardly soon enough—he had the bridge’s planks beneath his feet. There was absolutely nothing between him and his family.

Unless you counted the masked man hanging on the rail.

“… Hi there.”

Coming closer Eren realized that he recognized this guy. He’d been on the bridge before hadn’t he? Back when he was trying to cross with Corporal, holding his breath. The spirit was still dressed all in black, the material almost see-through, with painted markings on his pale face and tufts of golden hair. Tentatively, Eren raised a hand in greeting.

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when a black arm materialized out of the guy’s ‘clothes’… or maybe it was more like his body. He waved, and his head tilted oddly away from his shoulders. The creepy mask-like markings didn’t help the overall image, nor did the fact that they guy was as pale as milk. Eren could see a mouth, nose, eyes… all the important bits, but they were combined in so odd a manner that it almost looked like he had no face at all. The scruffy blond hair only heightened the contrast.

As No-Face continued to wave he looked hard at Eren he suddenly recalled that this guy had seen him before, not just the other way around. He’d really seen him that is, right through Corporal’s spell. Maybe. It had certainly seemed that way at the time. Even if he hadn’t, it didn’t escape Eren’s notice now that he was the only spirit in this huge ass place still awake. That wasn’t normal…?

Eren kept a healthy amount of bridge between them.

“I’m in a hurry.” He said. Not that he needed to justify himself or anything.

No-Face only nodded. He bowed a little in agreement, then gently shooed Eren off.

“Right. Thanks. Uh… see you later?”

It was a genuine question, one Eren was really asking of himself. After all, would he even be coming back? Corporal would take him to his family and then… then…

Something. Corporal would turn them back… somehow... and then they’d go home. Simple. Eren was sure of it. Nothing was like it had been last night. For all he knew, they’d all be back in their car within the hour, Mikasa’s hand once more in his. So it seemed kinda mean, promising this guy that they’d see each other again when they really wouldn’t. He looked a little lonely. Weird and possibly dangerous… but also lonely. Eren knew what fiddling with your shirt—chest… thing—meant. Whatever.

“I will see you later,” he said, grinning a little when No-Face’s head popped up. After all, at the very least he needed to come back for his clothes. Mom would kill him if he lost those shorts. “Okay?”

No-Face nodded again, a little more energetically. His markings stretched into smile.

“Awesome. Bye then!”

Eren only looked back once. When he did No-Face wasn’t quite as slumped anymore and that was good. He’d pulled a book out of nowhere, now reading peacefully over the water, swaying slightly in contentment. Eren smiled as he slid through the side gate and ducked out of sight.

Here Eren paused. Corporal’s note, worn smooth in his pocket, said to meet him at the bridge… but he wasn’t there. Eren wasn’t worried though. He could feel something warm in the back of his mind, urging him to keep moving forward. So he took the dirt path down the hill and instead of turning towards the grass fields Eren entered the garden of flowers, gorgeous and twice his height. For a moment, walking between their stalks, Eren had the feeling that he’d been here before. It was something like déjà vu, lapping at the very edges of his memory. But before he could grasp it Corporal was there, standing with sternness and swords.

He held out his hand. Laughing, Eren went to grasp it… and received a sharp slap to the ear.

“Ow!” He howled. “The fuck was that for!”

“You’re late, brat.”

“Yeah well you didn’t need to hit me. You said you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“That wasn’t a hit and you know it.” Corporal crossed his arms sharply. “Brats. You’re so fucking dramatic. The hell were you doing all this time? Crap not coming out right?” As if he’d finally caught sight of what Eren was wearing, Corporal snorted. “Pink looks good on you.”

Eren glared, smoothing the clothes Hanji had given him. “You have a messed up obsession with potty stuff, you know that? What, are you five?”

“Five thousand’s a little closer, kid.”

“Uh huh, suuure.” Eren wasn’t interested in how old Corporal was. Why would he be? Nuh uh. Not interested at all.

“… Five thousand?” He finally asked. Corporal shrugged. Eren nearly tripped when he did. That little movement had the same sort of dejected air that had been hanging around No-Face. But this was Corporal. What did he have to be sad about?

“Maybe.” He answered. “Truth is I don’t rightly know. I can’t remember much from before I entered Irwin’s service.”

Eren swallowed. “Oh.”

“C’mon.” Corporal gave him a shove forward. “The fuck are you doing, interrogating me? You want to see your family or not?”

Eren got that this was a distraction and all but… he did. He really did want to see them, so badly he could hardly verbalize it. Corporal seemed to understand though. Silently he lead Eren deeper into the flowers, frequently looking back to make sure they kept together. Eren tried to focus on anything at all—why did this place look so familiar? Why did it feel like rain?—but all he could do was rhythmically rub his hands over his new pants. The sweat soaked through to his skin and Eren shivered under the bright sun.

“Corporal?” he whispered. “How are you going to—?”

“Quiet, Eren.”

He jerked. What had Corporal just called him?

But then Eren heard it: a low, gurgled moan rising up from somewhere up ahead. With it came a smell like livestock, the kind that had been abandoned in their own waste for days, weeks at a time. The combination had Eren slapping a hand over his mouth and nose even as Corporal said, “You get used to it.”

They pushed through the last of the flowers. There, down the hill, was a barn the size of an auditorium. Everything was stronger here, from the smell to the noise to the creaking of the barn’s boards as something moved inside. Eren edged closer to Corporal, ridiculously grateful when he didn’t push him away.

“That place is way too big for pigs,” he said.

“No shit, kid.”

“… What’s in there?”

“What do you think?”

Eren didn’t want to think. Already his chest was tight and his thighs felt like they’d been liquefied. Thinking would make it worse, so Eren just let himself be lead down until the barn looked even bigger and he felt impossibly small.

There was no dramatic reveal or anything. The doors opened easily at their approach and Corporal gestured Eren inside. For his part he only leaned against the doorjamb, hands linked loosely in the sash that held his swords. Wobbling slightly, Eren inched forward until he had a wider view. That, he realized, was close enough.

They were titans. Just as Irwin had explained. Huge, hulking beasts that were packed inside the barn shoulder to twisted shoulder. They all roared when they caught sight of him—or maybe they smelled him—and Eren tripped backwards until warm hands gripped his collar. Corporal shoved him back inside. As he did beams of sunlight reached past the metal barriers and Eren could not see that each monster was firmly held. Ropes as thick as logs twisted around their bodies, their ends spiked into the earth like someone was pulling up a tent. Others had that as well as nails driven through extremities. One titan, with a full beard and a shark’s eyes, had a dog collar wrapped around his neck. Of course, that collar wouldn’t fit any pooch Eren had ever seen. Maybe Clifford. Maybe.

Eren was so focused on whether these bonds would hold that he didn’t immediately realize that their features were as diverse as their cages. That one with the beard was fatter than the others but some were so thin they looked like waifs. Most were male, a few obviously female, and their faces varied from mildly deformed to something right out of a nightmare. The only thing they all had in common were their frantic struggles and their gnashing teeth.

“You can tell who’s been here the longest.” Corporal said. Eren couldn’t tear his eyes away to look but Corporal sounded fascinated. There was an agonizing pause before he said, “Well, brat? Anyone you recognize?”

The question prompted Eren to really look, something he wasn’t exactly keen on doing. He shuffled forward, sneakers digging into the dirt, and each step crystalized the picture a little more. There was a titan with scars running down its cheeks and another with a nose so big it obliterated the rest of its face. One female gurgled at him from the far right, two pulled their lips back in synch, one was nearly invisible under all his ropes, another made a sound horrifyingly like a giggle, and there—

There they were.

They were in a far corner, the ground around them disturbed from when they had recently been moved—dragged—inside. The thing that had once been his mother sat with its mouth open to the ceiling, perhaps hoping that something small and squirming would tumble into its maul. The Grisha titan was one of the most constrained, trembling beneath a mound of ropes. Its fingernails gouged out small canyons into the earth. And the third… the third locked eyes with Eren.

“Mikasa.”

Eren would have sworn to whispering it but really it came out as a shout. It must have, because something set the titans in motion. They roared to life in a way they hadn’t when he’d simply stepped through the door. He supposed that’s what running forward would do. A titan with hollowed cheeks was now close enough to snap at him and Eren really, truly didn’t care.

Luckily for him, someone else did. Strong hands grabbed Eren by the collar of his shirt and the back of his pants, hauling him away. He was probably still shrieking, he could feel the vibrations in his chest, but he couldn’t hear it. There was a rushing in his ears not unlike waves and no wonder. She was right there, looking as terrified as when she’d lain under white hospital sheets, when she’d bobbed brokenly against the white side of a boat. It didn’t matter that she gnashed her teeth and roared as loudly as the others. Eren knew.

“Mikasa!”

Eren was being pulled away though, one wrenching inch at a time. The doors closed again on their own accord and he tried to crank his neck out farther, to catch one last glimpse. Eren was sure that if he succeeded he’d see something else—some kind of answer or, miraculously, Mikasa starting to change back. But there was only darkness, then wood, then the path before him. Yards away from that place Eren was thrown to the ground where a wad of grass wedged itself between his teeth. He spat and tried to roll to his knees but there was a boot planted firmly over his stomach. Corporal glared down at him. He had both swords unsheathed, one hovering protectively between the two of them, the other pointed back towards the barn.

“Do you have a death wish, brat?” Corporal hissed. Eren had never heard him raise his voice before and he certainly didn’t now. Instead, Corporal’s words thinned into something sharp and brittle. It spread like far-off thunder.

“If you do want to die just let me know, because I have half a mind to gut you here and now for being such a goddamned stupid—hey!”

Despite the pressure on his ribs Eren rolled as hard as he could. He got his feet under him and sprinted, clawing his way back up the hill and plunging blindly through the flowers. Gasping, he felt the touch of water and shrieked, pulling away. It was his own tears though, pouring off his chin, and he could no more stop them than he could stop his legs from pumping. It was only when he’d cleared the flowers and had reached gate that Eren crashed hard into an immovable object: Corporal. He stood with his feet planted like he’d been waiting there all day.

Hands shot out and gripped his arms. Shook him.

“That’s enough now, brat. Calm down. Just—”

“No!” Eren pointed back towards where they’d come, his whole arm shaking. “You were supposed to do something! You were supposed to fix this! How are you going to fix this, huh? Tell me, you bastard!” Corporal let go. Or maybe Eren succeeded in twisting away. Stuttering out a breath he drew in another laden with gasps. He grasped at his own chest, determined to quiet it because he wanted, needed, to hear this.

“…I can’t.” Corporal said and Eren’s vision went dark blue.

“Fuck you!” he screamed. “I—I did everything. Go it? Everything. I ate your food and I got inside, a-a-and I got a fucking job. I went up there!” Eren gestured above them. His clawed fingers held the same ferocity as someone referencing hell. “I went to Irwin because you said to but you weren’t there, you fuck, you weren’t there and he hurt me, s-so much, he hurt me but I did it because you said I had to. I trusted you! You said you’d fix them but that’s not fixed, Corporal! It’s not it’s not, it’s not, it’s—”

Eren dropped but there were hands there to catch him. Instead of trying to pin him this time Corporal scooped him forward as they both fell to the ground, succeeding in landing with Eren in his lap. One arm wrapped itself protectively around his middle while the other moved to start rubbing circles against his chest. The compressions were firm but not painful, yet Eren was definitely in pain.

“Breathe, kid, c’mon just fucking breathe already, it’s not that fucking hard. Look, even I’m doing it, so you don’t have any excuse, do you? C’mon now, Eren, for fuck’s sake—”

Eren did breath—eventually. Everything ached as he slumped boneless against Corporal, his fingers pulling threads out of his cotton pants. With his speech returned Eren wanted to continue his screaming, to tell Corporal exactly what he’d done, how he’d lied, and how he still needed to fix things. Instead, what came out was,

“What did you call me?”

“Eren.” Corporal answered. He continued rubbing soothing circles near his collarbone. Corporal continued with, “That’s your name, brat.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh.’”

“… I’d forgotten it.”

Corporal huffed what might have been a laugh against the back of his neck. It didn’t sound terribly happy though.

“You didn’t forget it. Irwin fucking stole it from you, the bastard.” Corporal lifted his head to the sky. Eren could just feel him shaking. “And yes, I can say that now can’t I? Gone running off, haven’t you? Useless piece of shit.”

Slowly, Eren pulled away until they were facing each other across the grass. “He’s gone?”

“Not for long, kid. I saw him flying off this morning, with his stupid, fat-ass wings. He’ll be back soon though, don’t fucking doubt it. That’s why I had to take you out here. Today. And what do you do? Have a goddamned mental breakdown, that’s what… Not that I blame you.” Corporal’s face pinched into something regretful. “Shit. Yes, kid, yes. I lied. Why? Because I needed you to shut up and do as you were told. And you wouldn’t have unless I told you what you needed to hear.”

Eren crossed his arms and thinned his lips just as tightly. He barely opened them to say, “You don’t know that.”

“Is that fucking so? You’re telling me, brat, that if I’d said to you out by that bridge,” Corporal pointed to the now deserted landmark. “That I, literally, could do fuck-all to change your family back you would have gone on your little job hunt regardless? With a big dopey smile on your face? Is that what you’re saying?”

Eren glared. Corporal scooted closer.

“Kid, I’m not a sorcerer. Shit like that? Keep it the fuck away from me. I’m served well enough with these.” He partially unsheathed a sword. “And some grade-A loyal fucks at my sides. That’s what has worked before and what’s gonan work now ‘cause that’s what Irwin doesn’t get, kid: loyalty. He’s never gonna get it either, trust me on that if nothing else. So you’ve got to beat him at his own game. You got your job, now use it. Do it well, so ridiculously fucking well that even he can’t complain. So well that everyone else can’t help but think highly of your skinny, pre-pubescent ass.”

Eren sort of felt like he couldn’t breathe again, but for an entirely different reason. Corporal really was shaking, a thrumming through his skin that Eren recognized. It was the need to move. To get up and do something.

“At the risk of sounding like a two-bit pansy… make some friends, kid. Because I guarantee you, at some point Irwin’s going to fuck up and when he does you’ll have an army of kick-ass spirits at your side. You want your family back? Start planning ahead. Start planning now.”

Dirty, weak, and scrubbing at his eyes, Eren still forced himself to picture all the good things about this place. And yeah, everything he came up with was tied to its residents. Hanji’s love and obsession, often intertwining together. How she’d taken the time to safely tuck him in to bed last night. Eren thought of Jean’s prickly exterior—that really wasn’t that prickly after all—and the cute, overly helpful Marco that he hadn’t even met yet. Once he started it was like opening a flood gate, the images pouring through: Sasha screaming at bits of wood, chugging food, Connie’s grating laugh, Hanji’s entrance, Jean cranking the elevator at his side… Eren even thought of the five in Irwin’s office. He knew they were good, despite where he’d found them. He remembered the warmth of Petra’s hands—and her words. All of them were here, doing what needed to be done, together.

And of course there was Corporal. Still sitting beside him. For all his faults, Corporal was good too.

Eren let out a watery sigh and dropped his head to Corporal’s shoulder. “I’m already on it,” he said.

Chapter Text

They eventually made their way back to the bridge. Legs tired, they dangled their feet over the water below, Eren removing his sneakers lest they tumble away. Corporal had assured him that with Irwin away on business it would remain day for some time and everyone would continue to sleep. Only when he returned would night fall again and the bathhouse would reopen.

“Business?” Eren asked. Corporal waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t ask, brat, because I don’t know. Something nefarious, no doubt.”

“… Nefarious?”

“Means evil.”

“Right.”

Between them, balanced against one of the bridge’s supports, was a goopy mess of rice and meat. Eren’s tumbling hasn’t exactly left the food he’d gotten unscathed. It was only when he’d finally calmed down a bit that he’d realized there were grains dribbling out from the underside of his shirt. Now the most they could do was pick out bits that weren’t ruined by sweat or grass. Corporal popped a piece of salmon in his mouth and grimaced.

“This is fucking disgusting.” He said. “Unhygienic...”

Normally Eren would have cared less, he’d eaten his dad’s attempts at cooking after all, but even he pushed the mush aside with distaste. It wasn’t like he was actually hungry because yeah, he got the whole evil—nefarious—thing. Nefarious was stealing your family away, turning them into monsters, and then leaving the youngest child picking at food he’d hoped to give to his sister. There was still a sliver of ice down in Eren’s stomach, a remnant of being in the same room as that prick. Next to it, smaller but no less potent, was a flare of heat similar to disappointment. This wasn’t how stories were supposed to work. Irwin was the bad guy. Duh. So didn’t that mean there was supposed to be someone good too? Really good—like a hero? Eren side-eyed the Corporal. Turned out things were a little more complicated than that.

Eren grabbed a whole handful of their meal and tossed it into the river. They watched it crumble in the water and float away.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered.

“You’re telling me, brat.”

Only the one support beam separated them. Eren wound his arms around the wood until his hand brushed Corporal’s sleeve. He seemed surprised by that deliberate contact.

“Not scared of me?” Corporal asked.

“Not really.” Eren shrugged as well as he could. For all the sleep he’d gotten he was feeling pretty exhausted now. Staying angry took more energy than he had to spare. “You did what you needed to do. I guess.”

Corporal nodded.

“Sooooo… I’m, you know. Right?” It wasn’t much of a question but Corporal understood. His name. Eren. It had been slipping from him ever since he’d tried telling it to Hanji, hours before, but the more he thought it now, the more familiar it felt to him again. Like a sweater you thought too small but really, it just fit a little snug now, close and surprisingly comfortable. Eren wrapped his name around him in a similar manner. It felt good, having a connection back to his old life, even if he still couldn’t say it out loud.

Everything else was gone… at least for now. Well, everything but his name and a pair of ratty, stained sneakers. Eren knocked them together petulantly.

“I can’t believe I forgot my own name,” he muttered.

“I told you, kid. You didn’t forget it.”

“Whatever.”

They lapsed into silence again. It wasn’t awkward exactly but a lot had been said and now small-talk just seemed kind of… small. Eventually Corporal cursed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. Eren noted that the left the arm that was touching him stayed where it was.

“Just don’t go spreading it around, kid.” Corporal said. “Even if you find a way to. Keep your name close, fucking guard it okay? But don’t let that bastard know you’ve remembered. He’ll just take it away again, stronger this time, and then you’ll need even more help when you’re heading home. It’s not worth it.”

‘When.’ Corporal may not have done everything right but at least that was reassuring. Still, Eren didn’t have to like the rest of the shit that came out of his mouth. He grimaced.

“You mean I gotta go by ‘Shifter’ still?”

“Yep.”

“But it’s so stupid!”

Corporal snorted into his arm. “Fucking really? Wow, and here I thought it was the name of the century…”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“What a mouth on you. I’m almost proud. Really, kid. You gonna try threatening me now? That’ll be embarrassing for the both of us. Entertaining though.”

“You know,” Eren growled. “For a guy preaching about friendship like a Wallmart card, you’re not too great at making friends yourself.”

“Shut it.”

“Seriously though, maybe if you smiled a bit or, you know, grew an inch—” Eren shrieked as a handful of rice was smashed against the side of his face. He retaliated with a bit of pork and before he knew it they were having an intense—if small—food fight, their arms weaving in and out of the bridge’s supports. When all was said and done Eren had far more food in his hair than he’d bothered to eat. Corporal immediately took out his handkerchief and began brushing ineffectively at his clothes.

“Thanks for that, brat. Now I need to bathe. Disgusting.”

“You need to bathe? I haven’t showered since the morning I got here.”

Corporal adopted an expression of horror. “For fuck’s sake. You live in a bathhouse.”

“And when have I had time to take a bath? Huh?”

Corporal let out a pained noise that wasn’t exactly agreement, but it was close enough. He continued to pick food out of the creases in his shirt, tossing them down into the water below. Eren watched them fall. Of course, looking down he couldn’t help but notice how much farther his legs stretched than a certain spirit’s, which set him to snickering again. Corporal’s eyes narrowed.

“Go ahead, brat. Laugh it up. But if you start calling me ‘Shorty’ again I’ll shove you straight into the river.”

Instinctually, Eren glanced down again, at the water below, only this time he wasn’t laughing. The current wasn’t strong by any means but there was still enough strength that a small boy might be swept away. Through the clear eddies Eren could see a bed of rocks, looking deceptively soft under layers of moss. Sun or no sun, the entire picture looked cold. And yes, the space between the bridge’s supports was more than large enough that Eren could fall through, if pushed. He tightened his arm around the beam and scooted his butt back.

“…please don’t.” He said.

“Right. Fuck.” Corporal raised both hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean...”

The fear was already receding so Eren bit down on the, “It’s okay” and instead hid his smile against the back of his wrist. It was a little satisfying, wasn’t it? Watching Corporal squirm.

“We’re not so great at this, huh?” He admitted softly, nibbling at a bit of skin. “I don’t really have friends at home. Just Hannes and Mikasa. ‘Course, I don’t think I’ll get to see Hannes much now that we’ve moved, and Mikasa…” Eren trailed off. It’s not like he needed to say it. Corporal nodded anyway.

“Petra’s better at this stuff,” he grumbled. He gestured between them.

“Petra?”

“Pretty blond spirit up in Irwin’s office. You must have seen—”

“Yes!” Eren gasped and pulled himself up, moving to squeeze in directly next to Corporal. It was a tight fit, with Eren’s left thigh overlapping with Corporal’s right, but neither seemed to mind terribly. He grasped at Corporal’s sleeve, tugging impatiently.

“I can’t believe… I—I just forgot, okay? But listen. She was there. Along with a bunch of other guys…”

“Gunther,” Corporal agreed. “Erd, Mike, and Oluo. They’re my—”

“Team,” Eren finished. He grinned, widely and true, for the first time since seeing his family again. “I know! Petra said…” Eren glanced upwards, half expecting Irwin to come flying back, swooping down upon them like some sort of vengeful bird. When the sky remained clear of anything but clouds he whispered, “She said she’s loyal, Corporal. They all are. To you. Always, she said. Always.”

Eren cleared his throat thickly. For all his teasing about mushy friendship stuff it was pretty cool that Corporal had not just one but five people upstairs pulling for him. What did that take? To be Irwin’s ‘personal assistants’ day after day and not just… give up? A hell of a lot, probably. If he was being completely honest with himself, it probably took more courage than Eren was entirely sure he had. He wondered, feeling partly sick and mostly hopeful, if Hanji would do something like that for him: brave a sorcerer’s wrath to get a message to him. Though then again… hadn’t she already? Her obsession aside, she’d still hidden Eren long before he’d gotten an official job. She’d taken him right back again too. Surely that counted for something.

“She must like you,” Corporal said. At first Eren thought he’d read his mind—stranger things had happened around here—but then he continued, “Petra’s the damn smartest spirit here. She wouldn’t have given you that message if she didn’t trust you.” Corporal bumped his shoulder. “Must have done something right in that meeting, fuck up.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Oi, I’m being serious here, brat. Everyone’s a fuck up, okay? Myself included. You know that now but you really think you’re the first person I’ve let down?” He said it so casually, like they were discussing boring, everyday events. Eren swallowed. “You were right about one thing though. Me, Petra, Erd… all of us were a team. Close. A little too fucking close it turned out.” Corporal’s hands tightened against the wood. “We didn’t have anything planned of course. You can’t just walk out of this shit hole, not without your name, but Irwin’s a paranoid bastard if ever there was one. He decided to make a right fucking example of us.”

“How?” Eren asked. It came out a squeak. And no wonder, his throat was bone dry.

In answer Corporal pointed to a grove of trees down by the bathhouse’s main entrance, just a little to the left. He didn’t actually look at it though. It hit Eren then that no matter what Irwin had done there he’d chosen a place where it would be seen by workers and clients alike.

“They just disappeared one day, for a couple of hours. Eventually I followed the chaos out here and found them. Fucking broken, kid.”

“Were they dead?” Wait. What a stupid question. They were already spirits. They couldn’t die. … Could they?

Eren shivered. What would happen if you tried to kill a spirit? Strangled one like Irwin had threatened to strangle him?

“No.” Corporal said, interrupting his thoughts. “They were broken though, like I said. Fucking literally. Gunther was hanging in the tree. Petra was thrown up against its trunk. Oluo, Mike, and Erd were all on the ground, contorted.” Corporal’s lips twisted in a reminiscent manner. “There was blood all over the place. A few teeth too. Took weeks for them to heal, kid. Not a pretty sight let me tell you. Fuck no.”

Irwin was tall and had looked strong—there were definitely muscles hidden under that shirt—but to take on five other spirits at once…

“How did he…?”

“Magic.” Corporal twirled his hand mockingly. “I fucking hate the stuff. Unnatural if you ask me. Well,” he amended. His eyes drifted around them, from the too vibrant flowers to the extended day. Most of it was beautiful. “It’s unnatural for one person to have so much. Especially when they’re a dipshit.”

“But didn’t you perform magic?” Eren blurted. He withered a bit under the sharp glare. “I mean, when we met. The second time. You got that… thing off my legs.”

Corporal nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Binding spell. Removing enchantments is a bit different from casting them though.”

“And the bridge…?”

“That spell was already in place. I just took advantage.”

“Right. I understand.”

“No you don’t.” Eren’s hip was nudged good-naturedly as Corporal stood. “Besides, if I could cast spells I would have used one to make that slop you served me edible. C’mon now. Enough chit and fucking chat. I don’t know when Irwin’s returning and if he spots us out here we’re toast. That is, burned to a crisp and made into someone’s breakfast. Move your ass, brat.”

Eren thought briefly about asking if he had to… but he already knew he did. So it was with a heavy sigh that he hoisted himself to his feet, kicking the remaining food into the water. They made their way across the bridge and Eren was proud to say that he only faltered once, pausing to look back. He couldn’t see the barn from here but he knew it was there; he could feel the weight of Mikasa’s gaze.

“Do they know what’s happening? What’s been done to them?” He asked.

“No, kid. All they know is instinct.”

“You’re sure?”

Corporal slowed until they were side by side. “Whatever you think you saw, you didn’t. They’d eat you in a heartbeat. No regret. They don’t even understand regret, kid. Your mom, your dad, your sis—”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

They walked on, Eren hesitating about what to say next. “You said before… about my name. I’m going to need it to leave?”

“Yep.”

“Well I’ve got it now.”

The word ‘Eren’ kept skimming the surface of his mind, tripping along like something foreign. There was an odd pull between the natural feeling that came with his name—as well as all the memories attached to it—and the residue of Irwin’s magic, telling him that it was wrong, wrong, wrong. Eren scratched at his hair. If he focused on it too much his head began to hurt; a dull ache that spread upwards from the base of his spine. It seemed best to just let the word rest there, somewhere far behind his eyes. Because it did seem far. Just shuffling along Eren had the sense that he didn’t know his name, but he also knew that it wasn’t fucking ‘Shifter.’ He couldn’t see it, it didn’t trip easily off his tongue, and all those memories where his mom was calling him in for dinner or Mikasa was chastising him after another fight… their voices were silenced as soon as his name came up. Still, if he reached, just a little, it was there. Hiding snug between simmering anger and endless worry. That hidden bit of knowledge was power. Not a lot—not compared to a sorcerer—but it was more than he’d had this morning.

“I could leave,” Eren finished.

“…Maybe.” Corporal agreed. “You’d never have your name again, not fully, and Irwin would sure as hell find you… but simply leave? You probably could. But you won’t.”

No he wouldn’t.

Never, ever.

They’d reached the main entrance and still there was no one else in sight. Eren looked briefly for his new friend with the markings, thinking he could introduce him to Corporal, but even he had disappeared. However, despite the silence Corporal tilted his head, like a dog catching a scent.

“I need to go,” he said.

“Irwin?”

“No. Not yet. But other shit needs doing... You okay?”

“Not really,” Eren answered honestly. “It’s fine.”

“Not it’s not, but it might be. Just don’t fuck things up.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“Welcome.” Eren wasn’t entirely sure if Corporal was being sarcastic or not. With a nod he bent his knees, preparing to flit away once more. Feeling remarkably calm Eren stretched out a hand and rested it on Corporal’s arm before he could disappear.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

The muscles beneath his fingers stiffened into iron. It wasn’t anger or even evasion, just… sadness. Engrained deep beneath the skin. Eren suddenly knew exactly what the answer was going to be.

“Fuck if I know. See you, kid.”

Corporal leapt, coming down to hover a few inches off the ground, and then he sped off, heading back towards that horrible barn. Eren watched him go until he disappeared over the rise.

It was stupid, wasn’t it? In the back of his mind, occupying the same space as the word ‘Eren,’ he would swear that there was the thinnest remains of a memory, one telling him that he’d once known the Corporal’s name, years before. Which was stupid, stupid. They’d only just met and Eren would have sworn, despite having lost his own, that he’d have remembered Corporal’s name. He just would have. Magic or no magic.

So obviously he’d never known the Corporal’s name… right? Still, Eren half wanted to call him back, if only so that they might try and remember together.

Instead he turned to trudge back inside but something, an awareness between the two of them perhaps, encouraged Eren to look back at the last moment. He almost called out anyway—Irwin would still be gone for a while longer, surely he could help Corporal with whatever job he had—but Eren’s voice withered and died in his throat. It was replaced with a slow, silent gasp.

There was something flying up in the sky. It wasn’t a bird and he was pretty sure that planes would never come this way. Although, Eren had never actually seen a plane. He’d come across plenty of pictures in books but the majority of the real ones had been used in the war and were now either destroyed or decommissioned. So it could be a plane… it was silver like metal, staggeringly large, and was moving at an impressive pace. Maybe…

But no. As it got closer Eren could see how it moved. That wasn’t a machine; it was definitely alive and whatever it was had teeth.

Eren backed up a step, only to change his mind and rush forward the second he identified what it was.

“That’s a dragon!” Eren cried.

Long and thin, it twisted through the air with the agility of a snake through water. Eren watched it twirl, mesmerized by the flash of sunlight across its scales. He felt like he knew their texture; could feel them skimming over the pads of his fingers, satisfyingly rough. Beneath their warmth from the sun they would be cool and thrumming with energy, the tactile version of guzzling soda on a hot summer day. Eren wanted to touch, so badly that he blinked and found himself actually reaching upwards until reality set in. The desire turned into a need though when the dragon darted and Eren finally saw its face. He recognized those eyes.

“Corporal!”

He flew towards the bridge, the end of his tail lashing through the air and turning him sharply. For a moment Eren thought that he’d actually get his wish; that he’d get to touch something so amazing, verify that it was real. Maybe Corporal would even give him a ride. Just a quick one. Forget airplanes! What would it feel like to race along the sky with only a dragon beneath him? Far better than any sprint, that was for sure. Corporal was so close now and Eren was already anticipating the rush of wind around them, the breathless moment as they rose through the clouds and then plummeted down… but at the last second Corporal dove—without him—plunging beneath the water. He came up on the other side of the bridge—along with a cloud of water so large it drenched Eren and everything else nearby.

“Hey!”

Coughing he wrung out his shirt indignantly. This was not the kind of bath he’d been talking about. Corporal shook his head at Eren and sped away. If dragons could laugh—and if Corporal’s did too—he’d probably would have been cackling.

“You could have at least told me you were a dragon, you dick!”

Thrumming with cold and energy, Eren screamed obscenities until said dragon was just another speck of light in the distance.

***

Eren laid down on the bridge for a while, trying to dry out in the sun. He sort of hoped that No-Face would show up again but the only one who bothered coming by was a croaking toad. Not one of the anthropomorphic kind though. Eren spent a good ten minutes eyeing the thing, even throwing out a few insults—“Did you inherit those warts from your mother?”—until he determined that, yes, it was actually just a normal toad. Weird.

After that Eren only continued to lie there. It wasn’t that he wanted to act like a useless lump, it was more that there were too many things he wanted to do. His left arm pointed towards where Corporal had flown off, wanting to follow. His right leg stretched towards the barn, where Eren knew he shouldn’t, couldn’t, return to. The rest of him shivered with anxious energy, the desire to do something, but not having a clue what to do.

Do your job, Corporal had said. Make allies. Make friends…

Yeah. Easier said than done, especially when everyone else was still asleep.

Eren thought briefly about drifting back off himself… but not here. Despite the bridge’s width he shook at the thought of rolling over in his sleep, slipping through the rungs, waking up a second before he hit the water.

“Hell no,” Eren muttered and rolled to his feet.

The main entrance was right there, but Eren didn’t much feel like braving the bathhouse’s labyrinth upper stories. After everything, a more familiar space was called for. Boiler room it was then. Maybe he could ‘accidentally’ knock something over, wake up Sasha and Connie, and the three of them could do something that didn’t involve threats or curses.

Eat, hopefully. Eren scowled as his stomach thundered. Bits of creamed rice just didn’t cut it and if anyone in this place had food to spare it would be those two. Decision made, he started leisurely strolling back towards his friends.

Eren was unaware of another spirit already following him, its marked mouth pulled back in a smile.

Chapter Text

All the way down the steps—moving carefully this time—Eren kept his eyes pealed on the clouds, hoping to catch another glimpse of Corporal’s dragon form. At one point he thought he saw something ruffling the tops of the trees over in the forest, but by the time he turned fully it was gone. Beyond that there was nothing but the occasional bird.

Truthfully, Eren was glad to step back into the boiler room. The concrete walls acted as a barrier between the barn and his desire to run back to it. And wouldn’t that be stupid? Sneak over there without Corporal and get eaten by his own family. Eren grimaced, pushing the images forcefully from his mind.

Besides, his clothes were still damp from that impromptu showering and the oppressive heat immediately set to drying them. Connie and Sasha were still in the same positions he’d left them in, covered by the blankets he’d found. Despite his original plan Eren didn’t actually want to wake them. In fact, with Corporal’s instructions still ringing in his ears it felt natural to tuck the blankets more firmly around their frames, demonstrating the affection he wasn’t sure he could maintain while they were awake. It was all he could think to do. Yeah, it was hot in here, but everyone needed a blanket to sleep with. The one he’d pulled out for Sasha was a scratchy red color similar to Mikasa’s scarf. Eren felt a pang in his throat as he realized it was probably gone forever, ripped to shreds when she transformed.

He’d buy her another.

Friends taken care of, Eren snuck back to raid Connie’s hidden stash of food. He had every intention of digging in—he’d apologize afterwards—when a voice sounded behind him.

“What are you doing down here?”

Eren shrieked, dropping the packet of crackers and accidentally crushing them underfoot. He whirled and very nearly cried out again. He’d gotten used to seeing weird, almost horrific things around the bathhouse: workers with vicious, animal characteristics, inanimate objects that taunted or cursed, spirits who hardly resembled anything life-like at all, and for the most part he’d gotten used to it—sort of. This guy was different though, through the mere fact that he looked real. Everyone else seemed like they’d stepped out of an imaginative child’s nightmare… but this guy was from the stories Hannes had told.

He looked like he’d been in the war.

Overall he was surprisingly handsome, tall, lean, with healthy looking black hair that he’d parted straight down the middle. In the light of the boiler Eren could make out a scattering of freckles. Most would consider him cute too, one of those guys who could move seamlessly from elegant to adoringly dorky. Cliché as it sounded, Eren would bet a hell of a lot that he had a fantastic smile. Really, he was anyone’s dream—minus, of course, the mutilations.

The guy wore a pink, puffed sleeved uniform just like Eren but his right sleeve fluttered under the boiler’s steam. There was no arm there to steady it. Instead, there was in ineffective stump, covered in a mass of scars so thick the skin appeared to have been layered with hundreds of strips of paper-mache. The sleeve pulled up high for just a moment and Eren could see that the scarring continued to at least his shoulder, possibly farther. He’d pretty much bet on it because the right side of the guy’s neck was equally cut up… as was the right side of his face. There was a hollow cavern where his eye was supposed to be.

The guy lifted his good arm to rub at the back of his head, then smiled. Yep. Eren blushed a little because damn, his smile was gorgeous.

“Sorry about all this,” the guy said. He gestured to… well, everything. As if it were actually something apologize for. His voice was warm and sincerely regretful. “It has a tendency to freak people out.”

“No. I’m good.” Eren hastened to say. And he was. For all the disfigurements he really was handsome, enough that it sort of made up for his right side. Of course, as soon as Eren thought that he could have kicked himself. The guy seemed nice enough and he hadn’t, you know, attacked him or threatened him or taken away his family. That made him awesome in Eren’s book already, no matter what he looked like. Trying to stay firmly in the we’re-totally-friends-so-don’t-hurt-me sphere, he asked, “So you’re…?”

The guy laughed. “I should be asking you that! It’s obvious though. You’re the human right?” He touched the side of his nose. Eren noted that a bit of the nostril was missing. “I can smell it on you. And ah, no offense, really, but you don’t smell so great otherwise either.” He laughed again, raising his hand at Eren’s disgruntled expression. “Sorry. That was really rude wasn’t it? I think Jean’s starting to rub off on me.”

Eren blinked. “Jean…wait. Are you Marco?”

“That’s right! How—?”

“Jean told me about you. He… helped me.”

Eren was hesitant to outright say that Jean had scurried him around the bathhouse before he’d officially been given a job. After all, Corporal had said to make allies but he’d never specified who it was safe to make allies with. He just supposed that he’d have to be smart about it and Eren’s instincts regarding Marco proved well founded. The older boy’s face settled into something resembling understanding. He nodded once before his grin returned, so large it snapped his scars taut.

“Well if Jean likes you, you must be pretty amazing. He hardly likes anyone.” The grin settled into something fonder. Marco obviously didn’t believe that. “Tell you what, why don’t you head back upstairs with me? I’ve got some more scrubbing to do in the smaller tubs. They’d be just about your size, yeah? C’mon. You might still smell human but at least it won’t be filthy human anymore.” Marco laughed at Eren’s growl. “I can get you some food too. You know, if you want. Bit better than stealing, yeah?”

Eren startled and looking down at the crushed crackers underfoot. Slowly, half horrified at what he’d see, he turned to face Sasha. Amazingly, she was still asleep. Connie too.

Their conversation had attracted others’ attention though. At a familiar chirping Eren found maybe twenty or so of the soot creatures swarming his feet. They tugged happily at his laces. Three of them started an impromptu double-dutch. A few picked at the crumbs and nibbled them, eventually spitting them back out with high-pitched icky sounds.

One made eye contact, squeaking at him hopefully.

“Why are you always doing that when I don’t have time to play?” he asked. Still, he bent and rubbed a finger over his head. Marco cleared his throat.

“That’s what? Thirty more recommendations in your favor? I’m sold. Come have breakfast with me.”

Eren hesitated. “Sure,” he finally said.

A bath and food… you couldn’t beat that deal. A small, tentatively logical part of Eren hissed that he shouldn’t just follow any spirit that beckoned him but Marco wasn’t any spirit, was he? He was Jean’s boyfriend, probably knew Hanji as well, and best of all, he hadn’t immediately run off to inform someone that the newbie human was sneaking around while everyone else slept. Even just watching him stand there, shifting from foot to foot, Eren could tell that Marco moved like a cat. He could have easily slipped back out of the boiler room without him ever knowing he was there. He hadn’t even pressed his question about what Eren was up to, just glanced at the crackers and came to his own conclusions, ones that surprisingly seemed to give Eren the benefit of the doubt. That was… nice.

Right.

Dodging the soot balls Eren scooped the reaming crumbs into his hand, determinedly ignoring Marco’s chuckles as he trotted to the boiler’s opening, tossing them and the wrapper inside. Hopefully Connie wouldn’t notice them missing. It would suck to get in trouble for stealing food he didn’t actually get to eat.

Of course the soot balls followed. Just as they had before, they tugged insistently at his shoes when he tried to leave. At least this time Eren understood them a little better. With a sigh he slipped out of his sneakers dutifully.

“What’s up with you guys and my shoes?” he asked. Not that he expected an answer. “Take them back to Hanji?” Enthusiastic chirping. “And…” Eren lowered his voice, making sure Marco couldn’t hear. “Take care of them, yeah?” His face heated and Eren hid his cheeks as best he could. Stupid. They were just shoes. But they were his. He didn’t have a whole lot of things left that were ‘him.’

Eren took a moment to remember his name. That was far more personal, and it warmed him.

“Come on,” Marco urged.

As the two of them tiptoed back through the door—which was silly really, if Sasha and Connie hadn’t woken when Eren screamed or when their soot balls went wild, they certainly wouldn’t be waking up now—and Eren made sure to keep his distance. Just a little. Marco seemed to get it and he moved subtly to the side. It also didn’t escape Eren’s notice that he moved so that his right side was hidden in the shadows.

Oddly enough, that more than anything else screamed that Marco was one of the good guys. It wasn’t his consideration but the scars themselves. No matter how hard he tried Eren couldn’t see Irwin recruiting Marco because, for all his inner ugliness, Irwin was still a beautiful man. His office was spotless, tastefully cluttered with colorful knick-knacks, he wore pressed shirts without one errant crease, and he surrounded himself with Corporals friends, all of whom were equally stunning. Marco didn’t fit Irwin’s perfect, ordered world.

And that was awesome. Eren deliberately scooted closer.

“What’s your name then?” Marco asked. “You’ve been the talk of the bathhouse recently. How are you settling in?”

“Fine.” Little bit of an understatement. Whatever. “And it’s… Shifter.” He took a deep breath and yes, the word ‘Eren’ was still there, it just wouldn’t come up through his mouth. Mentally Eren hugged his name to his chest fiercely.

“Shifter, huh? That’s a fascinating name. What’s the story behind it?”

“Irwin.” There was a word Eren could still say; he stuffed it full of sharp edges.

Marco frowned. “Ah. Irwin…” he hesitated. “Irwin does that sometimes, with workers he’s… wary of. Corporal had his name taken too. If anything it means he considers you a threat.” Marco made that sound like a compliment.

It raised an interesting question though. Perhaps foolishly, Eren had just assumed that everyone lost their name after signing their contract. But if that wasn’t the case…

“So your name’s really Marco?” he asked. Even to his own ears Eren’s voice sounded embarrassingly small. It was stupid, especially considering his relationship with Corporal, but he could hardly imagine being close to someone and not know their real name. Knowing now that Jean, Hanji, Connie and Sasha… were really Jean, Hanji, Connie and Sasha, was reassuring in a way Eren hadn’t expected it to be.

Marco nodded. “Yep and I’d like to know your real name someday too.”

“…Okay.”

“Great.”

…Was Eren supposed to say something else?

Everyone he’d met so far was sort of hyper, carrying the conversation for him. Hanji certainly excelled at it. In contrast Marco though seemed perfectly content to let the silence hang heavily around them both. Eren snuck a peak… but no, he didn’t appear annoyed about it, or even bored. They continued along the hot hallways together, Marco smiling slightly at every little thing they passed.

Eventually they emerged from the bathhouse’s depths, taking the elevator up and up. Soon the doors opened and a kitchen area came into view, the same one Eren had visited the night before. He’d been too tired then to be moved by the smells but now saliva flooded his mouth, almost painfully. He could still catch hints of garlic and something spicy in the air despite the fact that the worktables were deserted. Marco gestured for Eren to sit on a stool while he ducked behind the counter. He came back up a moment later with a pan in one hand and a whisk under the crook of his arm.

“You cook?” Eren blurted.

“Only a little. I’m a pro compared to Jean though. He burned pasta once. I… didn’t realize that was possible.”

“No, I meant…” Eren gestured to Marco’s arm—the lack of it actually—and then flushed, realizing exactly how rude he was being. To his surprise Marco just laughed.

“Don’t worry, everyone stares. You’re at least polite about it. So?”

“So?” Eren parroted.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” With an easy grin Marco started cracking eggs and adding flour to a bowl. He moved gracefully despite the handicap, using his torso to steady anything that needed a second hand. Salt, butter, and milk appeared and soon he had a thin batter whisked to perfection. Eren’s mouth watered.

“You can ask about the scars,” Marco said and Eren’s mouth snapped shut.

“Uh…”

“It was the war.” He offered. Marco shrugged but there was definitely a tense line running through his shoulders now. “I’m not much for fighting. I will if I have to though and the pay was decent. Way back, right at the start, they used to give your family a whole crate of foodstuffs for every month you remained enlisted—and alive of course.”

Eren nodded. He’d been told time and time again how lucky he was to have been born after the war. Now that there was peace there was everything else as well: food and textiles and more toys than any one boy could want; enough of everything that a family in good standing could take in a little girl with no hesitation at all. Mikasa was lucky too.

Marco poured batter into a heated pan. He swirled the mixture until a perfectly thin crepe was bubbling. “I had a little brother. So of course I stayed. Did work on the walls for a while. They’re amazing.Ttrue architectural masterpieces. Seems a terrible way to think, huh? But I stand by it. Their purpose may have been to keep people out, to contribute to a war… but that doesn’t take away from their beauty.”

“They’re thinking of tearing them down.” Eren said and Marco paused in flipping the crepe.

“… Ah.” He shrugged again, tightly. “Anyway, I did that for some time but eventually moved to the battlefield. 104th squadron. Basically a suicide mission I’m afraid. It didn’t take long for me to hit a landmine.” Marco put down the spatula, gesturing to his right half. He took up a knife and started cutting up a variety of fruits. Their bright colors seemed out of place for such a discussion. A desecration.

“It didn’t take me long to die either, not with injuries like these, but I was awake just long enough to be stereotypically maudlin about it. I’m never going to see my family again, never going to fall in love…” Marco’s face suddenly lit up. “But what did I know? Stupid sixteen-year-old kid. Spent a couple of years wandering around without a form, rediscovered my body, found the bathhouse—” Here Marco’s grin faltered.

“Irwin,” Eren concluded. Even with no one else around he dropped his voice low. If he had any lingering doubts about Marco they disappeared at the furious twisting of his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you stay?”

Then the grin was back, quick and effortless. “Jean,” Marco said. He waved a fork at Eren. “Don’t let anything stop you from falling in love, kid. Not even death.” He put a plate down on the counter. A crepe, stuffed with fruit and drizzled with a bit of chocolate. A tall glass of orange juice was placed beside it. Eren was so distracted by stuffing his face that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to be annoyed. Still,

“I’m not a kid,” he said around chipmunk cheeks. To his surprise Marco actually paused in washing up the pan to consider him.

“No. You’re not are you? A kid age-wise yes, but in terms of maturity?” He frowned down at the suds. “It takes a certain level of wisdom to survive a place like this, especially as a human. You’re pretty amazing.”

He could feel his cheeks heating. Eren quickly stuffed more crepe into his mouth.

“Now,” Marco said. “I’ve told you my life story—or my death story at least. Your turn.”

Eren choked. Luckily a laugh came just a moment later, followed by Marco thumping his back.

“Kidding, I’m kidding! You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. More juice?” Eren nodded. It still felt like there was banana sticking to his throat. “Don’t stress over it. Besides, I know enough. Word travels around here, you know? About our boss’s latest… acquisition.” Marco’s mouth twisted again. “Two adults and a little girl. At least that’s the rumor. You know… I meant it when I said I wasn’t a fighter, but I also meant when I said I would fight if I need to. Especially if someone, maybe a new friend, asked me too.” He handed the newly filled glass over. Marco’s gaze caught Eren’s and refused to let go. “You’re old enough to get that, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Eren said. He gulped the juice.

“Excellent.” Marco said and then was all smiles again. He tried lifting the heavy pan and wobbled a bit. Eren reached across the counter to lend a hand, literally. The thought sent him to smiling as well.

“Thanks. Now, lets see if we can’t get you smelling a little better…”

Eren had no qualms about punching his right shoulder and Marco’s laughter followed them out of the kitchen.

***

They had gone up two more levels and were strolling down an adjacent hallway when Marco suddenly froze. His whole body went rigid, his left leg comically suspended in mid-air. He hardly seemed to breathe.

“What?” Eren asked.

Marco only shook his head. He started walking again, though it seemed that he did so with a fair bit of effort. It was only when they’d entered another hallway, this one lit only by the light of the rooms up ahead, that Marco edged closer. He dipped down and pressed his mouth against Eren’s ear.

“We should be careful about what we say from here on out,” he whispered. His eyes danced from one spot, to another, to another still—cautious. “Irwin’s returned.”

Maybe it was just the darkness of the hallway that left Eren’s skin feeling cold. Maybe not.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Positive. We can tell when he’s near. It’s part of the contract.” Marco cast him a faintly puzzled look. “Can’t you feel it? It’s deep inside, close around your heart.”

Eren concentrated, trying to ignore the chills skimming along his arms and legs so he could focus on his chest. However, after a moment he realized that was it. There was something there, a light ache that started a few inches below his collarbone and radiated outward. It was a shiver, a cold pulse, like a silent beacon that, instead of drawing attention to Eren himself, allowed him to know who was nearby; a particular someone. It was faint enough that he could probably ignore it again… just as soon as he managed to forget it. Like trying not to think about blinking, or breathing. Eren shivered again.

Marco smiled. There was nothing happy in it though. “Found it, huh? Yours is probably fainter than ours, being human and all.” He hesitated. “Come on. I’ll show you…”

He trailed off completely. Eren didn’t need the reminder but Marco put a finger to his lips regardless. There, on the far wall was what appeared to be a decorative mask. Just a short time ago Eren would have ignored it entirely if he hadn’t already met Irwin’s talking doorknobs. That experience had clued him in… that and the fact that the mask’s eyes were moving. They headed out of the dark corridor together, silent and slightly scared.

They came out into an area brighter and happier than any place had a right to be now. There were bathtubs everywhere, of various sizes, all sparkling and waiting for occupants. Eren heard a low thrumming and at first he assumed it was water coming in from the boiler room… but Sasha was probably still asleep. Marco led him over to a collection of windows where Eren stood and gapped.

It was pouring.

Not, ‘oh look a summer storm,’ but ‘wow run for your lives I’m fairly sure this is the apocalypse.’ It wasn’t until he was right against the plane of glass that Eren even realized it was raining, so thick were the droplets. The once beautifully sunny day was a thing of the past. Where just an hour before it had been nothing but blue skies now the heavens were a sickly black. Lightening threaded above them like the threads of a spider’s web.

“Did he…?” Eren couldn’t finish the question. It was the kind of storm that literally took one’s breath away.

Marco answered anyway. “Yes. That’s Irwin’s doing.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because it brings in customers.” Marco’s smile remained fixed, his words complacent. Only Eren was close enough to see that everything was strained. “What better time for a hot bath than after you’ve been caught out in a storm? Wash the grime from your skin, warm your core, maybe get a bite to eat…” He sighed. “Speaking of, if you want that bath you’ll have to hurry. Irwin will let the storm run for a while but that’s basically our cue.” One finger tapped against the glass. “Work will be starting soon.”

***

The luxurious bath he’d been dreaming of just wasn’t a possibility anymore. No sooner had Marco compared the storm to their work bell than the sound of waking feet overhead could be heard. Not so below though. Without Sasha and Connie up and running there was no hot water, which meant that Eren had to deal with buckets of stored water that had turned icy long ago. By the time Marco had him stripped and scrubbed—sounding terrifyingly like his mom, “Honestly, you could have at least found time to wash your face”—he was more than happy to hop out and draw his uniform back on. The thin cotton did little to help the chill though.

“Here,” Marco rubbed a towel over his hair, making it stick up every which way.

“I can do it myself!”

“Sure,” he agreed and kept rubbing.

What made things worse was that by this time spirits were streaming in, most still tugging on uniforms of their own and stifling yawns. Eren could see them whispering behind their hands. No doubt they were laughing at the human boy being manhandled by the goodie-goodie. Eren scowled.

“Found yourself a stray, Marco?”

Yep. There is was. Eren was an instant away from screaming at this guy to fuck off when he actually recognized the voice. He pushed the towel away, blinking.

“Jean!”

He was half-jogging towards them, his smile looking more natural than Eren had ever seen it. He pulled Marco into an easy embrace, with one arm around his waist and the other tugging at his hair. The ensuing kiss brought cat-calls, croaking, and—sadly—a few disgusted noises from the nearby workers. Jean released Marco’s hair and blindly lifted his middle finger to more curses and much laughter. After enough time had passed that Eren’s ears started turning red they parted with an obscene ‘smack.’ Jean turned to him.

“You managed to get a job then?” he asked. His eyes were hard pinpricks of gold. It was a stupid question too—Eren wouldn’t still be here if he hadn’t succeeded, right? Still, he nodded sharply.

“Yeah,” he said. “I also…took him down a peg…”

Not really. Not even close. But it was the thought behind the lie that counted. Jean grinned and Eren had to gap when he bent and slapped him companionably on the back. He paused though, staring into Eren’s face, looking hesitant.

“I’m sure I know your name…”

“Shifter,” Eren bit out. Jean’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s not what it was before. I’m no Marco, but I’m not stupid either.”

“Jean, really.”

“No.” Eren agreed. “It’s not the same.”

“So let me get this straight: you went up there, talked the bastard into giving you a job—” (“Jean,” Marco hissed), “he took your family, took your name… and you’re still here kicking.”

“Damn right.”

Jean grinned. “Then you did take him down a peg. Maybe even two.” He wrapped an arm around Eren’s neck. “It’s really good to see you in one piece, kid.” Marco nudged him.

“Eren doesn’t like being called ‘kid’, Jean.”

“Uh huh. And since when do I care what this pip-squeak wants?”

Eren nudged his other side until Jean exaggeratedly grabbed his ribs. “Since you have to start working with me,” he sniped but Jean was already ignoring him.

“Marco, what the hell? I woke up and you…” Jean trailed off and Eren was amazed to watch his cheeks heat. He coughed a few times. “Well. You weren’t there.”

“I had things to do. Daytime’s always the best time to get work done. It’s quiet, not crowded at all… besides, if I hadn’t stayed up I wouldn’t have run into this guy. We had a lovely breakfast together.”

Jean side-eyed Eren. “You trying to steal my guy?”

“Uh…”

“Leave him alone, Jean.”

Marco suddenly sighed, his eyes running over the rapidly filling room. There were spirits everywhere now, folding towels and filling baths and generally making everything look like controlled chaos. “I’d better find Hanji for you, Eren. You’re her assistant right? As much as I’d love to keep you with me because heaven knows you’d be a harder worker than Jean—”

“Hey!”

“—it’s really best if you stick with her.” He grinned down at Eren, but the smile was strained at its edges. Jean ducked his head and looked away. “So, you ready to start your first day of work at the bathhouse?” The ‘Under Irwin,’ went unsaid.

Eren had thought he’d be ready. After all, a bath, no matter how terrible, and a hot meal could do wonders for the spirit. But that was before the storm and the image of his family locked away in a barn was still there, just behind his eyes. So if he were being truthful…

“Not really.”

Marco’s hand settled on his shoulder. The weight was surprisingly comfortable. Reassuring. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

Chapter Text

Eren was most assuredly not great at it. ‘It’ encompassing pretty much everything.

But that came a little later.

First was the somewhat awkward chit-chat with Jean as Marco ran off to find Hanji. The two of them were friends of course, but not really friends friends, if that made any sense. Eren shook his head. No, that didn’t make any sense at all. Still, the fact remained that without the purpose of getting Eren up to Irwin’s office or Marco’s calming presence between them… they just sort of ended up standing there.

That is, until Eren put his foot in it.

“So why are you with Marco?” he asked and Jean’s eyes immediately narrowed.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It’s just…”

It’s not like he needed to say it. Truthfully, most of it had already been said by the workers bustling around them; their words taunting and laced with disgust. Eren got that relationships weren’t based on looks. It was just… It was just that Jean, despite lanky limbs and a face like a horse’s ass, was a damn beauty queen next to Marco. The contrast was shocking.

Jean read all of that on Eren’s face. His own eyes flickered quickly from potent rage to a tired resignation. Eventually he sighed and scooted closer.

“I’m with him because I love him.” His cheeks went tomato red at the admission. “And if you repeat that I’m hanging you up by your thumbs.”

Eren nodded, then smirked a little. He was finding that ‘fighting’ with Jean was a whole lot easier than trying to make small talk with him. More fun too.

“I’d like to see you try, grandpa,” he taunted.

“Uh huh,” But to his surprise Jean didn’t even acknowledge the insult. He just kept staring at the door across the enormous room, the one Marco had left through.

“You ever been in love, kid?” He asked, then snorted. “What am I saying. You’re, like, five.”

“I’m ten, you dick!”

“Uh huh,” he said again. “Well when you do fall in love you’ll realize that it’s the most god-awful of all awful things. Yep, you heard me right. Screws with your head in ways I would have run screaming from before dying and meeting Marco.” Jean shrugged. “It’s just… him. He’s important. To me, that is. And no, not that self-sacrificing romantic crap of ‘oh the love of my life is everything and I am nothing compared to him.’ Screw that. Fucking burn it with fire. What I’m saying is that Marco’s important: his humor, and his mother henning, and the fact that he likes to put chips in his sandwiches. Weirdo. So yeah, he’s important. Not his… I don’t know, his components? That’s not it… well, what I’m getting at is his looks sure aren’t the deal-breaker. Though I’ll admit he does have a fantastic ass.”

“Oh c’mon!”

Despite his protest Eren couldn’t help but be impressed and a little envious too. Dimly he wondered if anyone would describe him like that. So… fondly. His mom probably and maybe Mikasa, if she cared about expressing things in words that much.

And his dad. Despite the scowl it brought to his lips Eren had to concede that. His dad could be a dick sometimes and he was still mad about the move and it was totally his fault that Eren was stuck here… but he did love him.

And… Corporal.

Would Corporal speak fondly of him…?

“You know he chose this.” Eren jumped, looking back up at Jean. “He chose that,” he repeated, gesturing to his own right side. “What? You think everyone dies young and beautiful?” His hand now moved to flap at everyone around them—the humans looking like they were cruising through their twenties, the rodents with bright, bushy tails peeking out of their uniforms. Eren had to admit that even the frogs looked ‘handsome,’ if such a thing were possible. Their skin was a healthy lime green and their warts had yet to shrivel. Eren hummed that he saw it.

“Well,” Jean said. “That’s intentional. I’m 99.9% certain that kitten over there was hit by a truck.”

“Ew.” She certainly didn’t look like road kill now…

“Right? Bodily control isn’t easy here but stay long enough and everyone gets the hang of it eventually. There are rules of course, you can only look like how you did before—an age you passed through for example, can’t go looking like you’re eighty if you never reached eighty, but yuck who would want to—so people generally try to look their best; the best they looked in life anyway.” Jean’s gaze returned to that door. “Not Marco though. That’s what the landmine did to him.”

Eren sucked in a sharp breath.

“Yeah. Real pretty huh? Sometimes I think about…” Jean swallowed hard. “You know. Being alone out there… bleeding…” He gave an uncomfortable twitch and laughed. “I was in an accident and as far as I was aware, it was instant. Nothing like what he went through. Hell, our deaths weren’t anything alike but our lives were polar opposites too. Marco at least died doing something. I… Well, I didn’t amount to much.”

“You’re something now.” It took Eren a second to realize he was the one who’d said that.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I guess… Maybe.”

Jean snorted. “Thanks for the confidence, but no. Marco’s the only reason I’m ‘something’ as you put it. I walked in here, tried to sail by just like I did in life… you can imagine how that went over with… you know.” His eyes drifted to the ceiling, towards the upstairs.

The rest of Jean’s body curled in on itself and his right arm rose to rub at his left. He noticed Eren starring.

“Broke it once. Well, I didn’t—he’s just… been known to… to get physical.”

Eren grit his teeth. He hadn’t seen Corporal’s team up in that tree but he could picture them pretty clear. Now he could picture Jean too.

“Why do you think I didn’t want a pip-squeak like you facing off against him?” Jean groused. “Anyway, he was dissatisfied with my work. He then tried ‘rehabilitating’ me, which worked out about as well as you’d expect. Marco swooped in like some adorable wannabe guardian angel, trying to ‘save’ me, and I said hell no to that shit… but we got talking, started dating…” Jean smiled.

“I’m a good worker,” he said, something like pride sweeping over his face. “One of the managers now, you know. I coordinate all the different teams—cooking, washing, greeting the guests— but I work because I want to. At first, yeah, it was just to make Marco happy but now it’s for me too. Irwin’s got fuck all to do with it.”

“Good,” Eren said.

“Ha. Dark, depressing backstory not too much for you?”

“No.” Despite the truth behind that Eren found himself rubbing sweaty palms over his pant legs. His meeting with Irwin could have gone very, very differently. He’d gotten off easy, hadn’t he? And he was only just beginning to realize that.

“Sometimes I think that’s why he does it,” Jean said.

Eren was still lost in yesterday’s possibilities. “Huh?”

“Marco. Why he chooses to look like that—keeping the injuries he died from. Sometimes I think it’s a message. Irwin’s not the only strong one around here.”

“Irwin’s not what?”

Both of them jumped at Marco’s voice directly behind them. Jean had just opened his mouth—to say who only knew what—when he was half plowed over by a very frantic Hanji.

“Jean! Where, where’s—there you are!”

Eren was swept into her arms, squawking at the indignity of it all. He tried signing for help but Marco just laughed at him. Jean looked like he was still trying to get his breath back.

Luckily she dropped him back on his feet. Then the shaking began.

“Where have you been?! I woke up and you weren’t there and I thought, ‘oh no, maybe the human had a bad dream and wandered off, or maybe the human is sleep walking! You guys do that sometimes, don’t you? I’ve read about it. Did you sleep walk,… uh… erm… what’s your name again?”

“Shifter,” Eren gasped.

“Oh,” Hanji frowned. “That’s right. I still liked your other name better though. Don’t remember what it was but it had to be better than ‘Shifter,’ you were right about that. Where you sleep walking, Shifter?”

“No!”

“Awww, really? I was kind of hoping you were. That would have been so cool. Humans do sleepwalk though, right? Do you think you could maybe make yourself sleepwalk? I’d love to see what it’s like. I won’t let you walk off a cliff or anything.”

Jean and Marco snickered but Eren pointed a stern finger in Hanji’s face. He’d seen his mom do it plenty of times before and, miraculously, it got Hanji to shut up too.

“No,” he said again. “No, no, no. And why do you want to see something like that anyway? Hanji, you were human! You know this stuff. Just how long ago did you die?”

Eren thought he was being clever—he understood this place now, she couldn’t keep up the ‘oh humans are mysterious and miraculous’ act anymore—but to his surprise Hanji just stared at him.

“Human,” she said slowly. “I was never a human.” Hanji suddenly grinned at his baffled expression. “Aww, how presumptuous! Just because I’ve got a human body now doesn’t mean I was human; and not all spirits that look human identify as human in their past life! Really now, haven’t you ever heard the phrase? If you assume something it makes an ass out of u and me.” She grabbed his hand, tugging him sharply. “Now, we’ve wasted enough time on your silly presumptions. The work period started twenty minutes ago!”

Eren was dragged away, Marco and Jean cheekily waving him goodbye. Somehow, knowing that he was being kidnapped by a spirit-cum-something was even worse than just plain Hanji.

“And while we work you can explain human sleep patterns! Is it true you all drool?”

Okay. Maybe Hanji was worse.

***

“So what were you before?” Eren asked, puffing to keep up.

“Nah, nah I’m not telling.”

“C’mon, please!” Outside of the dinner table Eren rarely used the ‘p’ word. All it did though was get Hanji to turn around and stick her tongue out at him.

“Tell you what, do good work today and maaaaaybe I’ll tell you.”

“Promise?”

“Never.”

With a scowl Eren gave her hand a vicious squeeze, to which Hanji only laughed. However, despite the banter his stomach was starting to knot itself up again.

He’d done work around the house but not work like this, and Jean’s comments were still tripping in the back of his mind, and Eren really wished that he could at least see Corporal because he knew he was supposed to be doing something, something to help Mom and Dad and Mikasa, but he didn’t know what—yes he was making friends—but that wasn’t enough, that was stupid, and—

Eren took a deep breath.

“You okay?” Hanji asked. She looked down at their linked hands. No doubt she could feel him shaking; just a little.

“I…”

‘don’t know’ was the honest answer but Eren’s throat closed up.

Hanji smiled reassuringly. “You’ll be great,” she said, unconsciously echoing Marco’s words. “Now cheer up! I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Surprise?” But Hanji just pulled him along and soon the mob of workers—shouting and yawning and bitching already—drowned the both of them out. Eren decided to focus on not getting trampled.

They picked up buckets, rags, and breakfast for Hanji along the way. Entering a cavernous room Hanji easily flipped a tag with her name on it, indicating that she was starting her workday. Mouth open, Eren realized that there was already another tag with “Shifter” on it… but it had been placed on the top of eight rows. Was Irwin petty enough, childish enough, to do that on purpose? Probably. Either way he couldn’t reach it and after struggling a second too long Eren was unceremoniously pushed aside.

“Move it, human!”

Nice.

There was little time to worry about it though. Eren didn’t have to go far. He and Hanji hung out on the side of the room while all the other workers tramped through. There were hundreds of them, all signing in and forking off to different areas of the bathhouse. It was only when the last straggler had sprinted through that Eren glanced up at Hanji. The silence after all those spirits was a little deafening.

“Now what?” He asked.

She held up her bucket. “Now we scrub,” and she gestured to the filthy floor.

“… Great.” Eren actually got a look at how huge the room was. “Fuck. Just the two of us?”

“Oh no—Krista?” A tiny blond suddenly appeared, poking her head out of a side door. She smiled as Hanji shook her empty bucket. “Water?”

“Sure thing. Ymir, help me with these, yeah? And we nee—Bertolt!” A huge crash suddenly sounded, making Eren jump. From through the side door Krista’s tiny voice rose in volume. “Can you not?! How many times have I told you to watch where you’re walking when you’re—oh no, Bertolt, don’t you dare, no no no no eeeeeee!”

Krista came barreling back in, followed closely by the tallest man Eren had ever seen. The bottom half of his uniform was drenched, his own empty bucket slung over one wrist, and he was running after Krista, attempting to hug her even as his shy smile belayed the confident action. They were both followed closely by two others: a fierce looking, dark skinned girl and a grinning man who appeared as strong as Bertolt was tall.

Krista shrieked as Bertolt succeeded in smearing a wet hand across her shoulders. “Reiner!” She yelled. “Get ahold of your boyfriend.”

“Only if you protect me from your girlfriend,” the guy said, side-eyeing the other girl. She simply raised an eyebrow, to which Reiner raised his hands. Eren was so engrossed in their drama that he hardly noticed when Hanji crouched to speak against his ear.

“We often work together,” she said, gesturing to the five of them combined. “I specifically asked that they help me with the scrubbing today. You know, just to have some… friends around.” Eren went still. “That’s Bertolt, Reiner, Ymir is the cranky looking one, and that over there is Krista…” Hanji’s lips barely moved. “Previously named Historia.”

Eren jumped, spun, but by then Hanji had already straightened, looking entirely innocent except for the finger that flew briefly to her lips. She winked.

But what…? Historia. Formerly Historia… now named Krista. Could it be that there were others here who’d had their names stolen, just like him?

Eren stared at the group. The four of them were still poking and prodding one another playfully. Of course there were others. Hadn’t Corporal himself said that Irwin did this to those he truly considered a threat? That it was a way of ensuring they could never really leave? What better way to control someone than by keeping them close by?

Feeling slightly numb Eren watched as Krista danced backwards from Bertolt, her smile huge and her ponytail bouncing. So… her then? Really? What had this teeny tiny blond done to earn the wrath of a powerful sorcerer? Had she overloaded him with her cute?

And how had she gotten her name back? Why hadn’t she left? Maybe, Eren figured, she was here for the same sort of reason he was.

Family.

“All right, you lot, listen up!” Hanji yelled. She slammed her own bucket against Eren’s chest, making him stumble. “Introductions and so forth—this is Shifter.” Her voice suddenly dropped from authoritative to cooing. “Isn’t he just precious?”

The other girl, Ymir, snorted. “Precious. Right.”

“Oh I think he is.” Krista slipped forward, her bare feet silent against the wood floors. When they were head to head Eren was able to see that even Corporal had a good fifteen centimeters on her; she was tiny, delicate too, with wrists and ankles that looked as if they could be snapped like dry twigs.

And yet… when her gaze met his it was anything but timid. Just the opposite. It was fierce, like a wild animal only a fool would consider defenseless. Krista settled her feet and opened her eyelids wide, and Eren knew that, despite her smiles, she expected him to look away first. He did, sadly right at the massive Reiner. He too smiled.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Shifter.” Krista said. Eren flinched as Hanji scuttled forward.

“Ah, maybe try to avoid using his… ‘name’?” She said, fiddling with her shirt. “No real reason to of course, just… well what can I say? Humans are funny, huh? Absolutely funny.”

Krista nodded. There was real understanding there, the kind Eren had only found so far from Corporal. “Understood. Then in that case it’s simply nice to meet you.” She held out a hand.

“Oh,” Eren said. He scrambled to take hold. “You too, Historia.”

Chapter Text

Eren realized what he’d said four syllables too late. The moment Krista’s real name spilled from his lips four pairs of eyes went wide. Hanji clamped a hand over his mouth and in an instant Ymir was between him and Krista, raising her brush like a weapon. The two boys also edged closer defensively, though they appeared more hesitant to outright threaten him. Only Krista remained still. She didn’t even blink.

For a long moment there was no movement in the room… except for a statue of a lynx over on the far table that slowly turn its head. Its marbled ears perked up like it had caught the scent of prey and a growl emerged from deep within its throat. Eren shivered. The sound wasn’t anything like what a living cat would make; like shards of broken glass rubbing together. The lynx didn’t seem capable of leaving the table though. It prowled from end to end a few times, it’s ceramic feet tip-tap, tip-tapping, but eventually its ears relaxed again and it laid down. Head upon its paws the lynx stared at them with its gemmed eyes. Only when those eyes went dim did the six of them dare to speak.

“You told him?” Krista said calmly. Her voice was barely a whisper. Eren could feel Hanji nodding in response, her huge hand still plastered over his lips and chin. The rest of him was no better, given that they’d formed a tight ball where Bertolt stood high enough to look menacingly down on his head while Ymir’s brush was just an inch from his throat. Eren wasn’t sure whether she intended it that way or not.

“Haven’t you been keeping up?” Hanji asked in turn. “He needs to know.”

“Needs?” Ymir hissed, but Krista silenced her with a look.

“Yeah, ‘needs.’” Hanji’s voice dropped even lower, her speech picking up speed. “From what I understand it was an accident, yeah, human? His family fell into one of Irwin’s traps. For the love of—he’s not even dead. He doesn’t belong here and neither do his folks; he’s got a younger sister too if that helps build some sympathy.” Hanji glared at Ymir. The darker girl was slowly lowering her brush. “If that’s not enough for you, you should also know that he was picked up personally by Corporal. Are you going to start questioning his judgment too? Listen, things are… changing around here.” Hanji said ‘changing’ like it was a word to be feared. And yes, everyone went still when they heard it. “I really think we need to tell him about—”

“Hey, why aren’t you lot working?”

Learn about what? Too late to find out. At the sound of that voice their little ball sprang apart and all of them scrambled to look innocent. At first Eren didn’t know who’d shouted at him… until he looked down. It was that frog, the tiny one that had startled him on the bridge. He put his green hands on his hips even as Reiner pushed forward to calmly explain.

“Now, Moblit, we were just…”

“Shove off, pond scum.”

It was Ymir. She moved her brush from Eren’s face to Moblit’s skinny green arms and snagged his empty bucket right off his wrist. Eren moved aside to let her. Ymir had a certain cuteness to her just like Krista, with a button nose and a scattering of freckles across her cheeks, but he never again wanted her wrath aimed his way. Moblit seemed to be of the same mind because he began hopping backwards, his hands wrung out in front of him like rags.

“You can’t speak to me that way.” He had a squeaky, nervous voice.

“Can’t I?” With little ceremony Ymir dropped the bucket on top of Moblit, from which issued a long wail and froggy squawk. She raised her bare foot to give it a good kick but Eren instinctually lunged forward, throwing himself on top of her arm to stop her. She glared down at his hand and Eren forced himself to tighten his fingers rather than backing off.

“Does he really deserve that?” He asked.

Ymir tugged her arm away and crossed both firmly over her chest. Moblit started beating against the bucket’s side, though all it did was create a faint vibration. Faintly, Eren could feel the others behind him, staring, but he kept his eyes locked with Ymir’s.

“Yeah,” she drawled. “Probably does.”

“Really? You’re absolutely sure? Because... because…”

Eren didn’t want to say ‘Irwin,’ not out loud, especially not when that lynx was still there, no doubt biding its time to catch a mistake; some word that would trip the magic and make it come alive again. Instead, he simply gestured upwards as he’d seen Marco do. Ymir raised an eyebrow and Eren huffed. She really didn’t get it.

“He’s a bully,” Eren emphasized. His eyes jumped to the statue. “He’s hurting everyone because he’s stronger than us and he can.” Eren pointed at the bucket. “Are you any better?”

“No,” she said easily, but Krista moved forward to tug at her sleeve.

“Yes you are. We all are, or at least we strive to be. Shifter,” Krista nodded in apology for using the name. “He’s right. Besides, I can personally vouch for Moblit. He’s… neutral.”

“Neutral is dangerous.”

“Nevertheless.”

It was as if a decree had been issued. Everyone backed off a step, even Ymir, though she did so with a frustrated roll of her eyes. She tried to push past but Krista snagged her waist, refusing to move. Finally, after another eye roll that held an entirely different emotion, Ymir bent to kiss her. Reiner and Bertolt snickered.

“As if you two are any better,” Krista said easily. She moved to grasp the top of the bucket. Frantic cries were still issuing from within and she hesitated right before raising it.

Krista turned to Hanji. “I agree,” she said. “To a certain extent. Maybe he should know.” Krista’s gaze jumped to Eren and she lifted her chin, her expression tightening into something sharp. “But we’re not discussing it here, Hanji; not now. You know better than that.”

To Eren’s surprise Hanji only shrugged, her own expression drained of all its usual happiness. She didn’t say a word to argue or apologize, only moved to tighten an arm protectively around Eren’s shoulders. He blinked up at her.

“As for you…”

Eren turned back towards Krista. “I won’t say it again,” he murmured and she nodded.

“Good.”

She flipped the bucket over and Moblit came flying out. He hopped frantically in a circle before finally skidding to a stop after tripping over his own feet. His robe was a mess.

“You… you…”

“Now, Moblit.” Krista’s voice had gone sweet as honey. “We’re so sorry about that. It was an accident. We apologize for not getting to work sooner too. Now that we’ve got the water we’ll get started right away.” Reiner held up the full buckets he’d brought, triumphantly. “In fact, here.” Krista dipped her own shirt into the water, coming back to gently scrub at Moblit’s face. He gulped, shaking a bit beneath her hands. “Better, right?”

Moblit’s face had taken on three extra shades of green. Sensing her advantage, Krista bent to kiss his forehead. He croaked pathetically.

“You’ll let us work now, yeah?”

He nodded and with a few dazed looks back he scurried off. If Eren had ever wanted to know what a frog’s hopping looked like while drunk, this was it.

“Nicely done,” Reiner purred.

Ymir gagged. “I’m not kissing you anymore.”

“Liar. C’mon, let’s just get some work done before… before anything else happens.”

All of them moved as one. Reiner started dividing his water into the other buckets while Bertolt handed out more rags. Krista and Ymir moved to the opposite side of the room, their heads bent in conversation. They weren’t exactly subtle and Eren felt a sudden, irrational surge of anger.

They were keeping something else from him now, Hanji too. That wasn’t surprising of course. Oh no, not at all. They had every reason to keep their secrets. It was only Eren’s family on the line. Two silent weirdos, a crazy lady, and a girl who strut around like she was a queen; they were obviously oh so more important than any lowly humans—

Hanji’s fingers brushed against his neck. She smiled a little sadly.

“That… could have gone better,” she admitted. “Sorry, I just… they’ll like you, okay? I hoped they’d be willing to help. Sooner. I jumped in too soon.”

Remembering Krista’s name and how he’d so casually tossed it out was like a punch to the gut. Eren ducked his head.

“… Maybe they still will.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Getting Hanji back to her usual, bubbly self was certainly no hardship and soon enough the six of them were hard at work, smiles carefully plastered on all their faces. Well, Eren might have frowned out of frustration once or twice. Apparently scrubbing a floor the size of a ballroom was easier said than done.

“Haven’t you ever worked before?” Bertolt asked as he ran by. The speed at which he passed meant he missed the scowl Eren threw his way.

The truth was he had worked before… but nothing like this. Chopping veggies in the kitchen, folding laundry, catching that one spider that managed to scare Mom half to death; all of those things were pretty much solo tasks. Once Mikasa had arrived she helped too but the labor was always divided equally between the two of them, with no real need for communication. Here, however, teamwork was key.

“On your right!” Krista called and Eren dodged to let her pass. Really, at this point it was best if he just stayed put. They’d started out spaced evenly across the room, with each spirit—or human—responsible for roughly one sixth of the floor. Rags against the ground and butts in the air (Hanji kept smacking his behind and chortling), they ran in an awkward crouch that only managed to slow Eren down and made him trip over his own feet. Not to mention that an unpleasant ache was developing in his calves. Ideally, everyone moved in sync vertically across the floor, cleaning the space between them and their partner, moving steadily to the right; stopping only to replenish their water and take the occasional breath. In reality everyone moved together except for Eren who, after Krista flew by, simply walked off, chucking his rag in a bucket for good measure. It hardly took them another fifteen minutes to finish and by then Eren was convinced that the first half had only taken twenty minutes because of him.

Ymir whipped him with her rag.

“Ow! Stop it.”

“You’re useless.”

“I’m not so sure.” Reiner grinned at him, slinging his own rag around his neck. “You sucked yeah, but you were better towards the end. Not many pick that up too quick. One of the reasons we always do the floor as a team.”

“Great time to chat too,” Hanji said. She deliberately kept her head tilted towards the ground, careful not to look at any of them.

“Maybe,” was all Krista would say to that. She suddenly clapped her hands once, sharply. “Ymir and I are in the kitchens now, cleaning the ovens. We could use some help. Bertolt?”

He shook his head. “I’m on crowd control. It’s basically clean up duty,” he explained to Eren. “A lot of guests are coming in straight from the storm so they leave the entryway a real mess. I try to keep it as mud-free as possible.” He gave a tiny smile. “I don’t mind.”

“Weirdo. Reiner?”

“Nah, sorry. Need to meet up with Jean. He mentioned some heavy lifting that needed doing.” He playfully flexed his muscles.

Krista’s eyes slid to Eren and Hanji, almost as if she was afraid to ask. “Alright. Can you—?”

“Hanji!”

The call was recognizably squeaky and this time Eren knew to look down. Moblit stood before them, arms crossed and foot tapping. His eyes flickered briefly at Krista where he went green (a nice green, a flustered froggy green) and then determinedly straightened his back. He coughed once into a tiny fist.

“You and the human are on the big tub,” he announced and that was it, nothing else for a long, awkward beat. If Hanji’s expression and Moblit’s smug smirk were anything to go buy though, they told Eren that he’d seriously missed something.

“You did that on purpose!” Hanji wailed.

“What? I’d never do a thing like that.” Moblit actually looked offended. Did frogs have eyebrows? They should, because his were scrunched in genuine confusion. “Don’t blame me, Hanji. Orders from the top,” and with an affronted huff he hopped off.

Krista sighed. “Moblit’s probably telling the truth. He wants to see you fail.”

No one needed to confirm who the ‘He’ was. Or the ‘you.’

Eren scrubbed a hand over his nose. He took in Hanji’s devastation and the team’s sympathetic look. Big tub? How big was big? After all this Irwin couldn’t possibly think that he’d give up after a little bit of hard work, could he? Because he wouldn’t. Not even if it was really, really hard. Super hard. He’d done dishes for a month after kicking Liam in the groin. Nothing could be worse than that.

Still.

“I’ve got an idea about who we should kick.” Eren muttered. His eyes rose up.

A hard hand landed on his scalp. Ymir started using him as an armrest, a grin peaking through. “Maybe there’s potential for you yet,” she said.

“Get off me!”

“Nope. Think I’m fine right here.”

“Come on, Ymir.” Krista dragged her away, her eyes a little warmer now as they took in Eren’s disheveled hair and pout. “Later,” she said to Hanji who once more lit up like a Christmas tree. Something like hope was working its way across her features.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

“Hey, kid. Do us a favor and dump these, will yeah?” Reiner set two full buckets at Eren’s feet, their water now brown and smelly. Eren wrinkled his nose.

“I’m not a kid.”

“Jeez. Not kid, not Shifter. The hell are we supposed to call you?”

“Oh didn’t you know?” Hanji said, throwing an arm across Eren’s shoulders. “He’s all kinds of important in human culture. Like royalty; like a king! Humanity’s Hope.” Her hand brushed across the air, picturing a banner with Eren’s name. “Catchy, right?”

“You’re insane.” But Reiner was grinning now, throwing a thumbs up as he headed for a side exit. “Krista, Ymir— you coming? I’ll walk you to the kitchens. Bertolt,” he stood slightly on tiptoe to kiss Bertolt on the cheek, but the other backed away at the last moment, casting an uncomfortable glance at Eren and Hanji. Reiner looked briefly annoyed but shrugged.

“You gotta get over the nerves, man.” He groused. “I’m allowed to kiss my boyfriend, aren’t I? No, never mind. I’ll catch you later, okay?” Reiner gave Bertolt’s hand a quick squeeze instead. Before Eren knew it they were both gone and all he caught of Ymir and Krista were the backs of their aprons.

“Big tub, big tub, can’t believe he went and gave us the big tub. Stupid, Moblit. You should have let Ymir squash him underfoot. Can’t believe he used to be my partner.” Hanji blew air until her cheeks were puffed like a chipmunk. Then she let if all out in a rush. “At least Krista is willing to… you know.”

The exaggerated stare wasn’t really necessary but they did move quickly out of the room, away from the prowling lynx statue and, Eren had just noticed, the portrait of a dog with wandering eyes. Spies everywhere. No wonder they only dared to speak in that particular room; it was just big enough for a hidden conversation. It was either that or the currently unattainable outside. So yeah. Now more talking. Not now.

Instead water sloshed over Eren’s wrists as he dragged the buckets behind him. As he and Hanji headed back into the hall he could just hear the sound of continued, torrential rain over the workers’ chatter. Maybe when Krista was ready to talk she’d sneak them back out into the fields like Corporal had done.

Corporal.

Next to Irwin he certainly seemed like the one in charge around here, and yet…

“Do you always do what Krista says?” Eren asked. He timed his question to coincide with a cat passing, her armful of small, wooden tubs creating a helpful racket.

“There’s reason too,” Hanji said and once more put her finger to her lips. Right. Patience.

Eren was never very good at being patience.

Still, he swallowed the frustration until it was only simmering and asked instead, “Where am I supposed to dump these?”

Pretty damn far it turned out. Hanji directed him down two levels and towards a side door that let out into the courtyard. Apparently you couldn’t get rid of water where the guests might accidentally see, despite the fact that the outside was currently nothing but water and the guests themselves had come to a bathhouse. But Eren went, trying desperately not to spill the foul liquid while inching down the stairs. Along the way every toad, cat, and human-looking spirit seemed determined to trip him up—literally. After the third biped trod on his foot Eren simply lashed out at the crowd, grinning when his kick landed against something soft and a high-pitched squeal sounded. Kicking itty-bitty frogs was one thing; these assholes were another matter entirely.

“Okay there, not-kid?” Someone called. Eren’s head jerked up and he could just see Jean pushing against the current on the opposite end of the room.

Maybe he could reach him… Eren tried to lift the buckets over his head but they were too heavy. One ended up smacking against the leg of a passing girl in pigtails, wetting her pants. She didn’t even notice, just hurried on, and Eren was left with a wet patch of floor to nearly slip on. He eventually sighed, giving up and setting a bucket down so he could raise a hand to Jean.

“Fine!” he called back. “Reiner’s looking for you, by the way.”

“Look at you catching on.” Jean made some sort of complicated hand gesture in lieu of a goodbye and disappeared up another set of stairs. Eren trudged on.

“Finally.” The downstairs exit to the courtyard had a hell of a lot more than one door so Eren chose one at random. The storm was still raging and the moment he slid the door open a disgusting combination of wind and rain poured in. With a growl Eren twisted his head away, chucked the buckets… and it was only when he looked back that he realized his thrown had actually hit something.

Or someone.

“Shit!”

It was No-Face, his new friend—sort of. Admittedly it was odd seeing him away from the bridge. Eren had pretty much convinced himself that he was somehow bound to the structure; it certainly wouldn’t have been the strangest thing he’d experienced here. Well is was obvious now that he could leave but he didn’t seem terribly self-sufficient. No-Face was just standing out there, his black clothes (or black body?) blending into the shrubbery. Only his blond hair and white face stood out but even through the rain Eren would have sworn he could see a stoop to the spirit’s shoulders. He couldn’t actually tell if the downpour or the bucket water was actually getting him wet but either way, No-Face looked kind of miserable.

“Sorry about that,” Eren called over the wind. Despite the sideways rain he opened the door a little further, hoping he’d get the message. When No-Face didn’t move Eren stuck his head out under the porch.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

Silence.

“C’mon, what is it? I can’t go around calling you—” Eren grimaced. Well, he couldn’t even admit to calling him ‘No-Face.’ How embarrassing. He’d probably be really insulted too. “I can’t go calling you ‘Nothing’ or something. Jean, do you know Jean? He just called me ‘not-kid’ and it’s pretty stupid, right? But Jean’s kind of stupid himself. I mean, my name here is Shifter, that’s even worse, but of course that’s not my real name.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that but Eren’s words were immediately carried off by the wind, gone for good, and No-Face had started to uncurl a little bit.

“Seriously,” Eren continued. “My real name is awesome. Way cooler than anything you’ve heard before, I betcha. I’d definitely tell you what it is if I could. In fact, I will sometime, so until then why don’t you tell me yours?”

No-Face started to take a step forward, then stopped. He ducked his head again.

“Don’t you trust me?” Eren teased. “C’mon, you should. I promise to take care of it and I always keep my promises. You know that. Didn’t I promise we’d see each other again and,” Eren spread his arms, “Here we are!”

Truthfully, Eren suspected that No-Face had followed him to the bathhouse but his words still had the desired effect. No-Face smiled for real this time and from his body he produced a book, a larger one than what he’d been reading out on the bridge. It was massive actually, nearly twice the size of Eren’s head, and all the pages were uneven in a way he’d only seen on the really old books back home. No-Face extended the volume and Eren realized that the cover was still dry despite the rain that battered it. He opened it up to produce a series of blank pages and then…

“Whoa,” Eren said and leaned even further.

The rain was hitting the book but the droplets were being absorbed. Not normal absorbed where they got everything wet but like, falling into another dimension and never returning Sci Fi shit kind of absorbed. These droplets then did return, freaky as it was. Eren watched as a collection rose back up to the surface of the page and then rearranged themselves to form a single word.

Armin.

Chapter Text

“Armin,” Eren quoted. “That’s your name?”

No-Face nodded, smiled.

“Armin! That’s great, that’s—” Eren jerked at the call of his own name, or rather, the frustrated call of ‘Human.’ It was Hanji, her voice coming from at least a level above, no doubt wondering where the hell he’d gotten to. Eren winced. If he could hear her from here over the rain… she must really be screaming.

“I gotta go but hey, get out of the rain, yeah?” Eren grabbed the empty buckets, knocking one against the open door. “Kay? Kay. See ya!”

He charged off through the crowd—which was thinning now. He could hear the spirits in other rooms, greeting and tending to the customers. Eren went up one set of stairs, down the hall, up another set, through two doors to the right, and then—

Shit. Where the hell was the ‘big tub’?

Eren wandered a little farther, the work corridors slowly easing into areas filled with baths, the customers all melting into their suds. Most seemed almost comatose, their limbs as relaxed as relaxed could be, but the employees themselves were pretty high-strung. Eren could understand that. He felt an identical tension in his shoulders and neck. It was something else though too. Over his heart, that little area Marco had pointed out where Eren could always and forever feel Irwin… No wonder everyone seemed tense. Despite having customers that looked liked they’d entered paradise anyone who’d entered Irwin’s care was in their own, personal hell.

One particular guest caught his eye. Human-looking, long black hair, a muscled back that spoke of a life filled with hard work. He was sitting in a tub facing away from Eren and just a day before he probably would have spotted that back, that hair, the glasses he could now see perched on a nearby stool… and he would have assumed it was his dad. Irrationally. Desperately, if Eren was being completely honest, because wasn’t this unexplainable scenario better than the truth? As it was, Eren knew exactly who and where his father was and he was able to pass by this stranger with an expression that resembled indifference. And yet… walking around and seeing this spirit’s face, a face Eren didn’t recognize, was both a disappointment and a relief. It probably always would be, at least until he actually got his dad back. But then there’d only be relief left, right?

“Evenin’, sir.”

All of this got harder when the guy actually spoke to him. Eren’s hands tightened over the buckets but he paused and mustered up a smile. It was odd, hearing someone resembling his dad call him ‘sir.’ The odd image was enough to loosen the tightness around his limbs.

“Hey.” Eren said back. “You… uh, happy with everything here?”

Shit. What exactly was he supposed to do if he wasn’t? Luckily all the guy did was chuckle and lean further into the tub’s lid.

“Sure am. Right as the rain outside, kiddie. Oh, but I shouldn’t being goin’ an saying that, huh?” The guy rolled his head, his long hair skimming the bath water and catching bubbles. He tried scooping water into his hands and scrubbing it away but the locks were too thick and the water he’d caught too shallow. “Been a long time comin’ here, see. I’ve met em’ all; the spirits looking like pixie brats who turn out to be old as farts, and vice versa o’ course.” He pronounced his ‘v’s like long ‘w’s, his ‘r’s rolled obscenely long. “How old you then, hmm?”

“A little over three thousand,” Eren said, completely straight faced. He shrugged. “I’ve sorta lost count though.”

The guy nodded. “Yeeeeah. I can see it; see it well. Right there,” He rose up just enough to point a pruned finger at Eren’s eyes. Too close, and Eren backed off a step. The guy hardly seemed to mind though. He kept nodding and though normally Eren would have assumed he was on something… his eyes seemed too clear. He moved lazily, but not like he was hindered, and every word rolled off his tongue with deliberate intensity.

“Can you really?” Eren asked. Then he cleared his throat. “I mean, see…?”

He wasn’t entirely sure how to finish that question. See what? His age? Or something else? But the answer came quickly enough, the guy speaking with frightening assurance.

“Sure thing I can see it.” He didn’t clarify what ‘it’ was. “Mighty clear to anyone lookin’ now isn’ it. Why? Unhappy with how ou’ve lived?”

“… Maybe.”

“Well don’t be.” The guy took another handful of water, most of it running through his fingers. “Better to ‘ave seen too much than nothin’ at all.”

“You believe that?”

“Sure do.”

Eren held up one bucket, then the other. He swung them a moment and then arched them through the air. Both landed with a ‘plop’ in the tub, bobbing.

“Here,” he said. “Use those for your hair.”

“Mighty thanks.” The guy took a bucket and sloshed the water over his head, sighing when the suds were successfully washed away. He slid down again into a slouched position, this time propping his feet up on the other bucket. Eren startled a little when he saw that the skin between his toes was webbed.

“I’d better go,” he said.

“Alrighty then. Good day to yer, sir. And don’t go frowning so much! Everything ‘ill turn out right.”

“…If you say so.”

“I do, I do.”

“Right.” Eren edged away. He wasn’t quite so sure about this guy anymore. If all the guests were this weird it was going to be a very long night… Provided that Irwin ever decided to let it be day again. A set of bay windows showed the sky to be just as dark and threatening as when the storm had first started. Eren hoped that Armin had finally decided to come in.

“Hey, do you know the way to the ‘big tub’?” He asked. The spirit was now using the bucket as a hat and it tilted threateningly as he nodded.

“Keep ‘eading straight an straight an straight some ‘ore. Then a left. Steeeeeeep left. It was named right; can’t miss it.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Thank, ‘ou.”

With a wave Eren jogged off, this time avoiding making eye contact with any other patrons. A number of them did call out to him, asking for food or extra towels, but there was always a toad nearby to pick up the slack. Eren couldn’t help but fight a grin when a creature resembling a jellyfish wrapped its tentacles around her head, crying out that something stinks. Seemed that even with breakfast and a bath here he was still decidedly human.

The guy’s directions were sound. Soon enough Eren rounded a left hand corner and skid to a stop, faced with what was, yes, an incredibly big tub. Larger than ten… maybe even fifteen of their regular tubs, certainly large enough to dominate the room they’d scrubbed earlier. And it was disgusting. The spirits here thought he smelled bad? Hypocrites. All of them. The entire bath was covered in brown sludge, turning a moldy black in some places, and there were literally patches of grass growing around the rim. Eren slapped hands over his mouth, more than tempted to flee, but before he could he heard echo-y grunts coming from inside and then Hanji’s head poked out.

“There you are!” She cried. “What, thought you were just gonna leave me to do all the work, huh? You evil little boy.”

“You could have told me where the tub was!”

“Oh yes, because it’s so hard to miss. Humans.” Hanji rolled her eyes, imbuing her insult with a wealth of affection that was just like her. “Give me a hand already will you? I’m dying here. Where are the buckets?”

“Uh…”

“Never mind. Here, take this.” A scrubbing brush, far larger than the ones they’d used before, flew at Eren. Only dodging saved him from a serious concussion.

“We need to scrub it down, and rinse it, and scrub it again, and then get something to cover that smell…” Hanji was still draped over the tub’s rim, looking utterly exhausted. Her face was planted pathetically in the crook of her arm but her right hand continued to scrub at a persistent patch of rot even as the rest of her body accepted defeat. It seemed that manic energy always needed an outlet, no matter the circumstances. It certainly wasn’t a human trait.

“Hanji,” Eren asked, edging closer. “Exactly what were you before you died?”

“Smiirffl,” came the muffled reply.

“What?”

Her head shot up again. “Nothing! We don’t have time for this. Do you want to scrub for the next ten years? No? I didn’t think so. This tub hasn’t been touched in decades. It would take a team weeks to whip this into shape and oh,” she groaned. “We are so very, very done for…”

That was it, wasn’t it? ‘Orders from the top.’ This wasn’t just an awful task that Irwin had set them; it was also an impossible one. He wanted them—Eren—to fail. Maybe so he’d have reason to fire him, maybe just so he could gloat about it. But did it matter? If Irwin said ‘you can’t do this’ then Eren knew for goddamn sure that he’d find a way to do it.

“Move it, Hanji.”

She blinked as Eren climbed up the side, eventually extending a hand to help him. Upon reaching the lip Eren promptly went top heavy and slid headfirst into the tub with a startled shriek. He grimaced, gagged, and then swallowed his frustration, starting to scrub with hardly a pause. Hanji came down tentatively beside him.

“… Okay there, human boy?”

“We’re done for, huh?” Eren wiped a hand over his brow, leaving a smear of rank grime. “Fuck it. Seriously, screw that, Hanji. Let’s make this tube shine.”

Hanji’s grin was positively blinding. Honestly, who needed the sun with someone like her by their side?

“Yeah!” She cheered—and they set to work.

***
Determination can carry someone a very long way.

Eren didn’t know how long they worked for—the sky was still pitch black and who even knew how long it would remain night this time—but it was long enough for his arms to ache and for his fingers to develop places where, if he kept this up, callouses would eventually grow. It wasn’t an altogether repulsive idea. Yes, the potential to one up Irwin drove Eren for the first twenty minutes or so, but after that the passion had drained away and he settled into a mindset based on work for work’s sake alone. There was something calming about being beside Hanji, odd as that may sound. She still fidgeted constantly and was entirely incapable of keeping at a single task for more than a minute, but when they did sweep together, or scrub together, or cart muck away with their steps in synch… Eren found himself smiling without really intending to.

“Mikasa and I used to do this,” he said and Hanji paused. Then she picked up her brush again.

“Your sister?”

“Mm hmm.”

“You and her cleaned out ancient, ridiculously large tubs together? That’s seriously what you humans do in your free time? Right then. So why do you still suck at this?”

“C’mon, Hanji.” Eren nudged her as she snickered into her shoulder. “We just… did stuff together, okay? Not like this, but… Cooking dinner or… I don’t know. Exploring. We went on adventures a lot and I got into fights a lot and… we were just together. She didn’t even like doing those things but she did it because then she was with me.” Eren shrugged. He attacked the stained tile with new vigor.

“She should be here,” he muttered.

Eren expected Hanji to make another joke, or maybe just agree with him as the Corporal had done. Instead, after she’d been silent about a minute—a shockingly long time—Eren turned and found her staring at him. Kneeling on the floor she dropped her brush and raised both hands self-deprecatingly.

“You’ve got me here.” She said but Eren could hear the question there.

“I do.” He agreed. “What?” He tried to grin. “You think I like doing all this?” Eren gestured to the massive amount of work still awaiting them.

Hanji was still staring though.

“It’s your job,” she insisted.

“Well yeah… maybe. But I’d do it anyway—”

“—if I asked you to?”

“Uh huh.” Eren said. “Definitely.”

“Well … Ditto.”

Both of them smiled.

They kept working then, for longer and longer stretches, that camaraderie making even the worst tasks manageable. Sometimes other workers poked their heads in to laugh or a costumer asked for directions but mostly Eren and Hanji were left to themselves. Eren was just beginning to think that he wouldn’t mind staying in this little bubble, at least for a while longer, when all hell broke loose.

“Hanji!”

Eren recognized the voice well before its owner reached him. Seconds later Marco skid into the room, his arm reaching out to support himself on the doorjamb. Behind him came Moblit, hopping desperately to keep up, along with a whole host of other spirits. Some laughed as the previous visitors had done, others just looked concerned. All of them were speaking loud enough to draw attention to whatever the situation was. Beyond the cubicle walls Eren could see the crowd growing.

With his arm now thrown over a stitch in his side Marco nodded at the tub.

“We’re going to need that,” he said.

“What?”

Moblit hopped to the front. “I didn’t know!” He cried. His little hands twisted frightfully before him. “I didn’t know, Hanji. Really! Irwin said to send you and the new guy to clean the big tub… and I assumed it was just busy work. We all did. But—but—but—”

“But now there’s a customer on the way.” Marco finished. “He’s just passed the grasslands and is almost at the restaurants. Bertolt went down into the lower alleyways to clean and caught a glimpse of him—huge, Hanji. He’s not gonna fit anywhere else.” He looked at the tub expectantly.

“Are…” Hanji looked from Marco to the tub itself. They’d removed the things growing there but it was still a sickly grey color. That is, still disgusting.

“Are you insane?” She shouted. “Is he? We can’t stick a customer in there. Why would he—?”

“You know why,” Eren growled.

All eyes turned towards him. His fingers dug hard into the tile and Marco cast him a sympathetic look, one that said, ‘I get it, it’s okay, you’re not to blame; you’re not responsible,’ but dammit, Eren felt responsible. More than that he felt mad, like he always did, like he always had, ever since he’d stepped into this fucked up nightmare of a bathhouse—only this time there was a very distinct response he could give. No more standing by, no more waiting. Hadn’t he said only a while ago that he was gonna clean this tub; make it shine? Well he was. The fact that there was now a time limit meant nothing. Let Irwin throw his curve balls, he’d knock em’ all out. Eren was gonna play and goddamn, he was gonna play hard. Let’s just see who came out on top.

He only realized he’d said part of that, maybe even all of it out loud when the crowd of faces gapped up at him. Only Marco smiled. There was, however, one other voice.

“Then let’s play.”

Everyone whirled. There in the corner of the partition was Irwin, leaning lazily against the wall. He’d changed since Eren had last seen him. Now he wore a black collared shirt tucked primly into a pair of equally dark jeans, looking like any self-righteous asshole with too much time on his hands and twice as much money. His smirk was just the same though.

Slowly, obviously savoring the moment, he pushed off the wall and sauntered forward. The only other movement came from the middle of the crowd as Petra, Gunther, Erd, Mike, and Oluo made their way forward too. The settled into their customary stance: legs together, hands folded in front, creating a semi-circle around Irwin.

Eren could feel it. He thought at first that it was simply anger, maybe mixed with a whole lot of fear, but the closer Irwin got the tighter Eren’s chest became. It was that thrumming, constricting his heart and spreading outwards through his limbs. Marco had been right. With Irwin up in his office it was an annoyance easily ignored but having him here, mere feet away, caused almost physical pain. Eren forced himself to cough through it even as Irwin waved a hand at their assembled guests.

“We wanted to know what all the fuss was about,” he drawled. “Honestly, Shifter. You think I wanted your first day to be so hard? Admittedly I might have given you a formidable task,” he gestured to the tub Eren stood in. The sludge beneath his bare feet was sticky cold. “Hard work builds character after all, but how was I to know there’d be a customer so soon?”

“You knew,” Eren said. He kicked his legs out and slid down to the ground, absurdly grateful that he was able to land with something resembling grace. The crowd behind Irwin gave a collective, drawn-out gasp as Eren marched right up to his ‘boss.’ The fear was still there, pooling into his knees and making them shake but Eren stubbornly locked them tight. His contract was sealed after all, so what was Irwin going to do, really? He could break bones like he’d done to the spirits behind him, maybe even—Eren gulped—chuck him into the lake as he’d threated before, but ultimately all of that was physical; survivable. Irwin had his family. Honestly, there was nothing else he could take from him now.

“You knew.” Eren repeated. “You fuck.”

“Human,” Hanji hissed. She too slipped to the ground and made to grab his arm but Eren shook her off. He was hyper aware of everyone staring at them: the nameless frogs casting frightened glances, Marco putting on a brave face, Petra, who kept risking quick glances at Eren. The four guys beside her were wound equally tight, though whether to flee or fight he couldn’t be sure. Still, they were Corporal’s men. Eren was willing to take a gamble based on that alone, if it came to it.

“Well,” he pushed. “Am I lying?”

Irwin only smiled tightly.

“You have ten minutes, roughly speaking,” he said, pointing to a pocket watch that had appeared in his hand. He whipped it through the air. “It should take about that long for our guest to arrive. Now, dear Shifter, I’m not a cruel employer.” Oluo gave a bodily twitch at that and was quickly restrained by Gunther. “I’m well aware that this is quite the undertaking for a greenhorn, but you are… feisty. So I’ll give you a choice. Keep your client and ensure that he, she, or it has the best care this bathhouse is capable of providing,” Irwin looked pointedly at the filthy tub. “Or, you can pass the responsibility off to a more experienced worker. I must warn you though, I expect everyone to pull their weight around here and I can’t guarantee that, should you prove lazy, there won’t be… repercussions.”

The pocket watch stopped and there, on the face, the numerals pooled together, reconfiguring into an image of Mom, Dad, and Mikasa. Hanji made a strangled sound beside him and even Eren rocked back on his feet. He hadn’t seen them—actually seen them—in days and the unexpectedness of the picture was like a blow to his gut.

Maybe there were still things Irwin could take.

Still, what was Eren to do? He couldn’t put his family in any more danger and he knew without a doubt that if he passed this off to someone else Irwin would find a way to have them all punished. No. He’d never risk it.

Besides, he’d already sworn. Irwin was going to regret underestimating him.

“I’ll do it.” Eren meant to say it loudly, with lots of strength and resolve, but it came out more like a squeak. Irwin’s smile grew.

“You’re sure?” He bent down closer. “You realize, of course, that the same conditions apply should you fail.” Irwin swung the watch and Eren’s family ticked back and forth before him. Seconds slipped by.

“I said I’d do it.”

“If you’re su—”

“But not alone.”

Irwin froze and Eren fought a grin at having thrown him off guard. “The others are allowed to assist me,” he announced.

Corporal may not have been with him but his words were. Make allies; make friends. Keep them close because you’re going to need them, brat. Eren knew he couldn’t actually accomplish this alone and Irwin knew it too. So he wouldn’t, simply as that. So Eren glared fiercely up at the taller man, daring him deny him this in front of half his staff.

“Or,” Eren said. “Are you really going to let a ‘greenhorn’ care for such an important customer by himself?” He shrugged. Greed was already flooding Irwin’s eyes and fighting with his anger. “You might lose his business entirely…”

“Oh very well,” Irwin snapped, then seemed to realize that he was showing too much to too many. He settled again, waving a hand magnanimously for Eren to get to it. With a step backwards he was flying upwards, everyone gaping as he landed on one of the balcony’s railings, a king overlooking his subjects. Once settled he clicked his fingers and Petra and the others came running—literally. They hoofed it up the four flights to again stand at Irwin’s side. Only when they were in place did every spirit turn to regard Eren.
Every. Last. One.

His breath caught up high in his throat. Great. Now what?

Chapter Text

There were too many people staring at Eren now, judging and expecting. Luckily a hand, wet and sporting fingernails covered in grime, came up to nudge his back. Eren appreciated the gesture despite the disgusting aspects and smiled at Hanji as he stepped before the crowd.

“Okay,” he said. Swallowed. “We’ve got, what? Five minutes or something?” Eren winced when some twenty heads nodded. He thought he heard Irwin chuckling above him. “Yeah that’s… that’s not enough time. Moblit!” The frog jumped a good two feet at being addressed but he ran forward quick enough.

“Yes, human?” He squeaked.

“You think you can stall our guest? Even a little?”

“Uh…” his gaze strayed up towards Eren but Marco nudged in. He pointed forcefully at Eren.

“He’s giving the orders right now,” Marco said.

“Right, right.” Moblit nodded frantically. “Um… then yes? I’m not entirely sure how though. Guests don’t need our permission to enter the bathhouse once we open. We’re just there to greet them, to say hello. It would be pretty rude to—”

“Just do something,” Eren blurted. “Tell him we’re closed for all I care.” He stared at Moblit as he just continued to hop from foot to foot. “Go!”

“Right!” And he ran off, looking more like a jack rabbit than he did a frog. Eren’s shout seemed to have woken everyone up. Chatter spring amongst the spirits, some trying to push closer to the front while others edged cautiously towards the back. Marco gave Eren an encouraging nod as Hanji helped him back up onto the lid of the tub. This way he could see the majority of the group before him. His father was used to calming crowds during medical emergencies and he always said that the higher you were the more likely people were to listen to you. It was worth a shot.

Eren couldn’t help that his eyes strayed to Irwin, four stories above. He seemed to be keeping his mouth shut—for now. Good. Eren needed every advantage he could get.

“Listen up!” He called. “Moblit’s buying us some time but I need the rest of you moving quickly. Marco?” His friend straightened, saluting with one arm. “Go get our supplies together. Towels, buckets, salts—whatever you think we need for this guest. Pull out all the stops.”

“Got it.”

“He’ll want food as well. Hanji?”

“I’m on it!”

Brushing by him she drew her lips over his ear whispering, “Nicely done,” and then she was charging away.

“I’ll bring us some breakfast too!” She called and then she was lost around the corner.

Some of the others followed in her wake, no doubt to help carry whatever she chose for such a large client. Eren noticed that Marco was also pulling spirits away to assist him. A pocket from the back had already left with Moblit.

“Jean?” Eren called. “Is Jean here?”

“Quite your shouting!” Jean’s head appeared over a spirit with fins for ears. It looked like he was using her shoulders to hoist himself up, much to her annoyance. “You think you get to order me around now, squirt?”

“Hell yeah I do.”

Jean grinned and whatever uncertainty was left in their group evaporated. Jean was respected here, a leader. If he gave his loyalty so easily to Eren, shouldn’t everyone else do the same? Excited cheering starting rising up around them so Eren really did have to shout to be heard.

“Head down to Sasha and Connie! Tell them what’s going on. Get ‘em ready.”

“Right!”

“The rest of you… uh…” There were still a large number of spirits milling around.

“Just… go do something already!”

They scrambled and with a sigh Eren slid back to the ground.

“Shouldn’t you be doing something too, boy?”

Irwin. Even from a distance Eren could see that ridiculous eyebrow mocking him. He’d just opened his mouth to retort when a final pair of feet came into his peripheral vision. They weren’t human or a toad’s though. They were webbed.

“Oh hey.”

It was the customer Eren had run into before. Dry now, he wore only a pair of loose tan pants slow low on his hips. A hole cut in the back allowed a spiked tail to swish and curl around his ankles. Eren certainly hadn’t noticed that before. Curiously, the spirit bent forward to examine the tub, his long black hair curtaining his face.

“Ehh. Right disgustin’ that is.” He said. His tail took a bit of slime off the side and rose it up to his nose. He spluttered backwards with a cough.

“Crazy disgustin’!” The guy moved lightening fast and, suddenly, he was at Eren’s side. He slung an arm over his shoulders and pushed their heads together. He peeked through his fringe up at Irwin but spoke low to Eren.

“You can’t go stinkin anyone in there, old-eyes.” He said. “Gonna lose if ‘ou do.”

“I know, just… who are you anyway?”

“Mm? Oh. No name, no name—never needed. Friend ‘o Dot’s though.”

“Dot? Who’s Dot?” Eren asked, but the guy only laughed at him.

“E-hehehe. C’mon. ‘Ou need to be hurryin’” He pointed two long fingers out the door. “Herbal soak token’s what ‘ou need. Powerful. Soooo frothy foamy no one gonna notice the sludge… or the smell.”

“Really?” Eren cheered, then just as quick lowered his voice. He stuck their heads back together again. “And where can I get…?”

“Foreman has ‘em, old-eyes.”

“Great, thanks. Really, thank you.” Eren tugged the guy’s hand once, thrumming with energy at being able to do something, anything—like win. He ran out the door, keeping a smile fixed on his face because, yeah, he knew Irwin was watching. Let him see. Let him sweat. Eren managed to get down two hallways with a skip in his step before he had to turn around. He poked his head back through the doorway to sheepishly wave his friend down, determinedly not looking up.

“Hey, uh… what’s a foreman? And where can I find one…?”

***

The foreman dampened his mood considerably.

“What do you mean you can’t give me one!” Eren hollered. He plucked at his pink shirt. “I’m employed here, I’m—I’m—I’m in a hurry!”

The toad only sneered down at him. He was dressed more finely than any of the others Eren had seen, with an immaculate white robe and a funny little hat hanging precariously off the side of his head. He’d been trying to get a token—any token at this point—for the last two minutes and given that his guest would be arriving any second now Eren was ready to just shove the toad down and take one. The difficulty was… he couldn’t reach the warty bastard. He sat high on top of a dais with no discernible way up. It made a fair bit of sense. Any guy who treated others like he was treating Eren needed to be out of reach. He’d get the shit beat out of him if he wasn’t.

“Go on. Get out of here, you useless scum!” The toad turned a page in his book, refusing to look at Eren. “I’ve got nothing to give to the likes of you.”

“But I need an herbal—”

“I said scrub it yourself!”

“THERE ISN’T TIME FOR THAT ARE YOU DEAF, ASSHOLE?”

The toad just turned his nose away snootily.

Eren in turn kicked the podium, letting out a frustrated cry when his toes bent backwards. This was completely useless. He was well aware of how loud he was being, half hoping that someone would come over to investigate, but the bathhouse was in pandemonium. Everyone not assigned by him to specific tasks was ushering other guests outside, no doubt to make room for this supposedly huge, important client. None of them were in a position to help. While coming up with creative insults Eren tried to keep one eye on the crowd, to see if there were any familiar faces… but nothing. He thought, briefly, that he might have spotted Krista’s golden hair but it was gone too quick to be sure.

Eren was on the verge of trying to run to the boiler room himself and see if Sasha had any unused tokens when glimmer of movement caught his eye. That wasn’t odd in and of itself. After all, everyone was running, shoving one another or tripping over feet and fins. No, it was the fact that the movement came from behind the foreman, up too high for anyone else to reach.

And…there! There it was again. Eren stared at the spot, trying to block out the toad’s cries of, ‘get the hell out of here, human, go on, get.’ There was definitely something moving behind him, something… black?

Everything happened in a flash. Whatever the black thing was it materialized for an instant and knocked the foreman’s basket of tokens right off the dais. They landed at Eren’s feet and he had a brief glimpse of colors: mostly reds and blacks, but some had yellow stripes on them, or even green. He didn’t know what the detailing stood for so he just snatched up the token with the most vibrant, varied colors he could see. There were six lines of different widths on the bottom and Eren could only hope that was a good thing.

Then he ran.

“Hey! Get back here, you little—!”

“Thanks for that!” Eren called. He raised his hand to whoever—or whatever—had helped him.

Back in the big tub’s room and how much time had passed? Too much. Eren saw that supplies had appeared in a corner, no doubt left by Marco. No sign of Hanji yet and he could only hope that Moblit succeeded in buying them more time. Irwin was exactly where he’d left him, leaning haughtily over the balcony’s railing. Perhaps what was most worrisome, however, was that his friend with the webbed feet was gone. Eren wasted precious seconds spinning in a circle, hardly daring to believe that he’d just been abandoned. Not here, not now. It was only when Mike flagged him down with a simple hand gesture and shrugged a, ‘Yeah. Sorry, kid. He’s gone’ message that Eren stilled. Irwin shot Mike a suspicious look but by then he was back to his normal, submissive stance.

Right. Fine then.

What was he supposed to do with the token anyway?

It was Petra this time. While Irwin kept an eye on Mike she smiled just a little mischievously, pointing to the far wall. It wasn’t as if she could get specific with such a small gesture though and Eren was left frantically pounding on each and every panel he came to. He could hear the laughter behind him, high and cruel, but who was laughing when the panel to his left suddenly sprung open, revealing a simple pulley system.

“Ha!” Eren said. He clipped the token in, pulled down, and let the thing fly.

Silence. Stillness. There was a long moment where anything refused to happen and Eren feared that he’d just remaining standing there until someone told him it was over. He bit down hard on his lip.

Then Sasha and Connie came through.

A long pole with a rope at the end descended with a ‘clunk,’ nearly taking Eren out as it went. He recovered though and hauled himself back up onto the tub. Standing on tiptoes, perfectly balanced, he was just able to grasp the end of the rope—and tug. Water cascaded out of the chute and god, Eren had never been happier to see so much of it in his life.

He must have grabbed something resembling a soak token because the water was as fragrant—and murky—as he’d been told it would be. He leaned over as far as he dared, letting the sudden rush of steam envelop his face. Yes, this was perfect. The bath was beginning to smell like honeysuckle and best of all, you couldn’t see the sides or bottom, let alone tell that they were still covered in a graying mold. The massive container almost looked inviting. Almost.

“Good enough,” Eren muttered and backed away. I wouldn’t do to fall in…

“Shifter!”

The shout startled him enough that Eren lost his footing… and luckily fell backwards. Tumbling over his shoulder he landed with his hands attempting to break his fall. His palms came away red and burning.

Eren raised his head to scream something unsavory but Irwin was already there. He floated just a few inches in front of Eren, expression surprisingly serious. Corporal’s squad was still up on the balcony but they too looked concerned.

“This isn’t a regular guest we’re dealing with, Shifter.” Irwin said before Eren could even get a word out. The sorcerer closed his eyes, tilting his chin up—listening. “Important? Yes. Large? Undoubtedly. But also… No, I’m not sure what this creature is. Mike?”

Above them Mike obediently took a breath in through his nose… then began choking. Oluo frantically pounded him on the back. When he’d recovered a bit Mike fluttered a hand over his mouth.

“Yes, yes, you can speak,” Irwin snapped.

“He stinks!”

“Thank you for that assessment.” Irwin scowled, turned and stared hard down at Eren. “I don’t know what exactly our guest is, Shifter, but I’m going to find out. You stay here and make sure that he has everything he could possibly want.” He flew directly into Eren’s face. One finger came up, a hair’s breadth away from stroking his cheek. “You know what happens if you fail… you fools, with me!” Irwin flew off, the others running in his non-existent footsteps.

Eren spat once he was out of sight.

“Bastard.”

Wearily he turned. The tub was more than half full now and he’d need to get back up there—again—in order to stop the water. Eren was just pulling himself to his feet when he saw that movement again: a little bit of black, just on the edge of his vision.

“Who’s there?” Eren demanded. “Hanji?” But Hanji was still off on her assignment, just like everyone else. Eren was very much alone now and the realization felt like ice cubes down the back of his spine. It was made worse by the water rushing into the enormous tub; an endless whooshing that covered all other sounds. Eren took an experimental step forward and, no, he couldn’t hear his own feet on the floorboards. Someone could sneak up on him and he’d have absolutely no idea…

“Ah?”

Eren shrieked, jumping backwards. He’d heard that at least.

There, in the far corner, he saw that little glimpse of black, only this time it kept growing. Larger and larger, enough that the mass soon equaled the size of a very tall person. Eren had backed himself up against the tub when the outline fully materialized and a familiar face popped into view.

“Armin!”

His friend nodded happily. The last of him, his bright golden hair, appeared as Eren sagged in relief. He covered his eyes with both hands.

“You can’t… fuuuuuuck. I’m a little busy at the moment. You can’t just go sneaking up on people like that!”

“Ah, ah?” Armin nodded again, this time more solemnly, but his stupid agreement only had Eren tensing again. He realized this was the first time he’d heard Armin speak. Or at least, the first time he’d heard something resembling speech. The little ‘ah’ sound he kept making was simple and really kind of annoying and it changed inflection every few moments, making it hard to decipher… it was grating. It started sounding concerned though when Eren continued to scrub at his eyes.

“Can’t you use words?” He snapped.

“Ah?”

“Oh forget it. Listen, you need to get out of here. Irwin will be back any second. I’ve got this super important guest coming and… and it’s also super important that he’s happy, so you can’t be here distracting me, got it? Leave.” Eren marched forward, trying to shove Armin out of the room. His hands just passed right through and Eren squealed at the cold he felt. With a curse he snatched his hands back.

“Can you not?!”

“Ah? Ah?” Armin’s smile vanished completely. He began patting at his own body, looking oddly frazzled. Eventually a new book appeared and Eren couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“No. I told you, I don’t have time I—oh.”

There, popping out of the pages were tokens. They balanced for a moment before falling to the ground, more materializing to take their place. “Oh.” Eren said again. “You gave me the one over by that dick toad, didn’t you?”

Armin nodded. “Ah. Ah.”

Eren groaned.

“Okay, thanks, now I feel like the dick. No seriously, thanks for that back there but now you need to leave—no, Armin, I don’t want that!”

The tokens kept coming, springing out of the book like rabbits out of a hat. Armin knelt to gather an armful and started pushing them at Eren. Eren pushed back.

“I don’t need anymore,” he growled but Armin wouldn’t let up. If he had normal eyes Eren might have said they looked misty, like he was close to crying, and his arms were definitely a shivering mess. A part of Eren realized he was upsetting him… but he just didn’t have the time. Right now he didn’t care. He couldn’t afford to.

Eren finally snatched the tokens away. “I don’t want them!” He yelled and threw them back on the ground.

Both of them froze at the wet ‘plop’ they made.

“Wha—?”

Eren’s eyes went wide. The floor, previously immaculate, was now covered in a few centimeters of water and it was quickly spreading outward. He whirled and found that, yes, the tub was indeed overflowing. Water cascaded over the sides and whatever bits of grime that could still be pulled loose had done so, now floating slowly out of the room. Eren could feel the blood draining from his face even has he rounded on Armin once more.

“Look what you did!”

But Armin was gone.

Eren gapped, caught a brief glimpse of a fading hand… and then nothing. Only the tokens remained, spiraling in circles on the water even as they spread apart. With a groan that felt more like a cry Eren bent to retrieve them and piled them all in a nearby bucket. He was still on his knees when their guest finally arrived and Eren felt it through his whole, exhausted body.

Vibrations. They traveled up from the floor, through his knees, over his chest, and seized along his teeth. His first thought was an earthquake, but then the vibrations settled into something rhythmic. Like a drumbeat.

Or footsteps.

“He’s here!”

Moblit went flying by with both hands plugged up against his nose. It gave his shouts a horrible nasal quality. In his panic he hopped right past and Eren was just about to call him back when Irwin flew in too. He also had his nose covered, though in a far more civilized manner with a handkerchief pressed delicately below his eyes. Even with half his face invisible Eren could see the flash of rage as Irwin took in the wet floor and overflown tub. It was gone quickly though, hidden behind a familiar, icy exterior. Following him, Corporal’s squad was far more expressive. Petra and Erd looked positively grey, Oluo was coughing, Gunther was stoically attempting to bottle his distress, and Mike… Mike looked two seconds from outright dying.

“It’s a stink spirit.” He said as soon as they’d come to a stop. “It’s… oh god.”

Apparently Irwin hadn’t taken his speech away yet because Mike continued to groan and splutter even as Gunther moved to support him.

Irwin hissed at them. “Do hold your tongue. Stink spirit? Hardly. I know a stink spirit when I sense one and while that thing may stink, I assure you it’s something else entirely. Shifter,” his eyes locked onto Eren. “I see you’ve already made a mess here… but no matter. How rude you are. Go greet our guest.”

Irwin’s hand came up and Eren felt a familiar tightness as invisible bonds locked around his arms and legs. He rose up into the air, pulled along as Irwin hoisted them both towards the bathhouse’s entrance.

“Open the windows!” He yelled as they flew by panicked workers. “Every last one of them—now!”

If Eren had thought there was pandemonium before it was nothing compared to this. Spirits were still running but now they were decidedly running away from a particular area, and as Eren was pulled through the halls he began to understand why.

The smell. Mike’s reaction didn’t do it justice. There was no one description for it because Eren would swear it was anything and everything at once: manure, decaying flowers, putrid newspapers in a 19th century gutter, rotten eggs and whatever else you’d decided to stuff down the garbage disposal, the smell of feet in winter boots, noxious fumes from still wet paint, a hug from that uncle who never bathed. Eren felt bile rising up in his throat but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. He couldn’t move. The downside was he couldn’t raise his own hands to cover his nose; the upside was he didn’t think he’d actually be vomiting. His throat was as frozen as everything else.

Irwin seemed to sense what he was thinking though. He flew to Eren’s side, lips fluttering against his ear.

“Keep your hands down when we land, Shifter. It wouldn’t do to insult our guest. Understand?”

Eren didn’t nod, couldn’t nod, but he just might have if it were possible. The tone of Irwin’s voice was threat enough.

By the time they landed Eren was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks from the smell. It almost prepared him for the sight of his customer—almost.

‘Huge’ was far from accurate. Enormous, colossal… think mountain range or the titanic from the perspective of an ant. As his guest stomped through the front all, sending spirits scrambling in his wake, Eren found himself looking up and up and up. He didn’t even realize he’d been set free by Irwin. He just stared.

As he came under the entrance’s lights Eren realized that his client was literally a mass of slime. He was brown, bubbling, and had a strip near the top that might have been a mouth. Yes… definitely a mouth. It opened and produced a cloud of air so fowl Eren wouldn’t have been surprised if his hair turned white.

His arms twitched spastically, desperate to help him just stop breathing. Eren resolutely made fists and locked his hands behind his back.

“Welcome, honored guest.” Irwin called. Did his voice sound as raw as Eren’s felt? “Please, make yourself at home. One of our most trusted servants, Shifter, will see to you.”

With a shove of magic Eren was stumbling forward. He stared upwards into that maw but there didn’t seem to be anything coming besides that rank breath. His customer had little to say it seemed, at least when it came to words. Instead, a brown, sludgy arm pulled away from the rest of his bulk, coming down with a force Eren could only tremble at. The arm didn’t crush him though, just slowed and then pulled back five worm-like objects that might have been fingers. Glittering beneath them was a small pile of gold.

Was he really supposed to touch that?

“Shifter…” Irwin’s voice came cold against his neck. “He’s waiting…”

Apparently yes.

Eren couldn’t actually bring himself to reach into that muck. It made the big tub seem like a paradise and his father’s closet smelled like roses in comparison. Instead he extended his own hand and the soiled coins were dropped into his palm, creating a ‘sploosh’ sound that made his stomach churn. Eren didn’t need Irwin to articulate what came next. Trying valiantly not to gag Eren wiped the coins clean on his shirt—discretely—and then obediently handed them over. The money was pocketed with a speed worthy of any miser.

“Please, sir.” Eren choked over just those few syllables. “Follow me…”

They started back, the return journey far longer—and smellier—on foot. Having cleared the area, spirits were now tentatively beginning to return. It seemed that their fear of Irwin and whatever it was that had entered their domain still couldn’t stifle curiosity. One story up Eren saw a collection of familiar faces: Krista, Ymir, and Reiner, all looking equally pale. Reiner raised a hand in greeting that Eren didn’t dare return but Krista… she was looking at their customer. No… that wasn’t right. Not at him. Rather, at the trail of slim he was leaving in their wake. She glared at the mess as if it personally offended her, tilting her chin up in derision. Eren had no idea she took cleaning so seriously. Maybe she got along well with Corporal…

At the thought of his friend Eren straightened. He could do this.

“Do you have a name, sir?” Eren asked, thinking that he had to be approachable. That’s what good workers were like, right? Even opening his mouth to ask that much was hard though, as the stink flowed all the way down his throat and into his lungs, settling there like a new membrane. It was all Eren could do not to start coughing violently and ultimately it was all for nothing as his guest still seemed to have nothing to say—or maybe he couldn’t speak at all? He just kept waddling his way forward, one mucky step at a time.

Still, despite the lack of communication Eren had little doubt he was intelligent. The creature was enormous, monstrously so, and each step allowed for the possibility that he’d squash something in front of him, namely Eren… yet he never did. Instead, each time he lifted a massive foot he made sure the way was clear before he dared to finally step down. It must have seemed a small act to so large a being but it definitely meant a lot to Eren. He turned and managed a companionable nod, hoping the spirit understood body language at least.

They kept going—one hallway, then another; through doors and past what seemed like the bathhouse’s entire population. Everyone was silent… which made Hanji’s voice all the more jarring. They’d nearly made it to the big tub when Eren heard the cry of ‘human’ over his guest’s squishing. Hanji was stuck back behind a crowd of toads, gesturing wildly to him with two bowls of rice. Eren grimaced. There was no way she could reach him, not through the crowd and around his guest, and certainly not with the look Irwin was sending him.

He glared back. Eren got it, help was help but this was still his test. He waved Hanji off and the last thing he saw was her comical look of surprise as the rice literally wasted away, a victim of their guest’s stench. It brought a smile to Eren’s face, small as it was.

Then they were inside the partition, just Eren, his client, and a deranged sorcerer. Irwin gave a smile of his own that, on anyone else, might have been charming.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he said and then turned to the spirit. “Do let me know if you need anything, won’t you? Also if you are… dissatisfied at all with your service, do speak up. I will ensure he is punished accordingly.”

Eren gulped, looking imploringly at his guest. No complaints so far, yet all at once Eren hopped fiercely that his client was literally unable to speak. A terrible thought maybe but it would sure make things easier…

Shit. Was karma a type of magic?

No time for fears. With that last little threat Irwin flew back up to the balcony, rejoining his stolen guards. Eren watched as he took that pocket watch out from the air and swung it like a pendulum. He could just make out the silhouettes of his family, burned into the clock’s face. Get moving, Shifter.

Tick tock, tick tock.

Chapter Text

Eren found that getting his guest into the tub wasn’t hard at all.

No sooner had Irwin left then the mountain of filth waddled over, climbed the tub’s walls in two easy steps, and plopped himself down with what might have been a sigh (sounding more like a bubbling gurgle). It was a simple task for the likes of him but the extra weight settling into an already full container sent a small river of water rushing through the room—a room already damp from the previous mishap. With a shout Eren was only just able to grab hold of a door-frame and avoid being washed away. As it was, a wave of scented water rose all the way up to his chin and he spluttered when it fell away, groaning down at his soaked clothes.

“Human!”

Hanji again. She was still at the back of the crowed, valiantly trying to push her way through. Eren forced himself to turn away. Up above him Irwin was regaining his usual smirk… and no wonder. Their guest was just sitting here, supposedly happy enough, but there was now hardly any water in the tub. Even if there had been, how exactly was Eren supposed to get him clean? Washing this guy would take twice as long as cleaning the tub itself, probably longer actually, and that wasn’t accounting for anything weird—like the guy literally being made of trash or something. That’d be just like Irwin, to give him a customer impossible to clean.

Hell, what Eren needed was the fire department with their truckloads of waters. Or at the very least a power hose. Or… or…

Or something with an equal amount of pressure.

With a fierce grin Eren turned to his customer, giving a little bow. “Just one moment, please,” he said and ran for the far wall. There, a few panels up, was the hidden latch that let down the water chute. Eren recalled the violence the last time he’d used it, the rushing roar of gallons of water pouring out in an instant. That was perfect.

It was like a flip being switched for no sooner had the chute itself tumbled out then the long silence was broken. Spirits all around them—crowding up the entrance, leaning over balconies, standing on one another’s shoulders to get a look over the walls—began whispering in earnest.

“He’s gonna fill the tub again!” One cried, to which Eren’s grin grew. Yeah, he was.

“But you need bath tokens for that…”

“Irwin won’t be giving the human any.”

“—he might, he might for this client.”

“—no, no, he’s done for—”

“Gonna waste all our water, honestly…”

“Shh!”

Eren ignored them, focusing all his energy on getting the chute centered over his client’s head. It wasn’t easy given the chute was nearly as long as the walls were tall and probably twice Eren’s weight. He glanced over and luckily found that his guest didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Instead to Eren’s surprise he even lifted one massive, dripping hand and lowered the chute the last inch or so to the left. Gazing upside-down Eren nodded his thanks.

“Just one more second, sir…”

Well, a little longer than that. The room had well and truly flooded now, making it rather difficult to run. What was worse, his client’s own liquid nature had begun to add to the mess; like a slow but unstoppable oil spill. Brown seepage rose up from out of the tub and oozed down the sides, thinning as it hit the water. It still retained its sticky properties though and Eren found that he needed to pull each leg out of the muck in order to move forward. It was like wading through quicksand—only smellier.

“Don’t know what he thinks he’s doing,” a spirit muttered as Eren determinedly pushed his way to the far corner. “Making a client wait like that. Either you have the tokens or you don’t and he don’t so he might as well stand aside and let someone else do it right—”

“Do you want to be in charge? Of that?” Another hissed. It was a woman’s voice and Eren saw a fat arm pointing out towards his guest. “You want Irwin on your back instead of his?”

“Well, uh…”

“That’s what I thought, you—oh! Oh ho ho. This human; he’s a tricky one, isn’t he?”

The murmurs rose exponentially as Eren finally reached the corner and, pushing aside the slime, uncovered his unintentionally hidden bucket. He nearly sagged in relief when he saw that they were still here, all twenty-some of the tokens he’d been given. That was more than enough for even a guest this size and Eren gripped the bucket protectively. The other voices rose in a roar as more and more caught sight of the colorful bounty. Eren chanced a look back at Irwin… and found that his expression had curdled like milk.

Hell yeah.

“Thanks, Armin,” Eren chirped. A couple of spirits nearby cocked their heads in confusion.

Back through the water, back through the slime, this time with the bucket held securely against his chest. The last thing Eren needed was to trip and loose the tokens beneath the dark water and wouldn’t that just be a laugh riot? He’d never find them then. Luckily he managed to reach the chute without incident, a slight gurgling behind him the only indication that his customer might be getting impatient. The first token he tried to send off slipped right through his fingers, the victim of wet and slightly shaking hands. Eren gritted his teeth… dropped the second… nearly dropped the third… but the latch caught at the last second and he triumphantly sent it shooting up, then back down towards Connie and Sasha. Panting, Eren turned to the tub.

“It’ll just be one more moment, sir.” He said. With a grunt Eren climbed up the sides, slipping more than once. His chin took a nasty hit when his foot hit a particularly slimy patch but he just kept talking around it. “I just sent down one of our best tokens,”—lie. He hadn’t a clue which one he’d sent; something with lots of stripes on it—“and Sasha, she’s head of the boiler room, she’s real quick about getting the water up here.” Also a lie. Whatever. “I’m really sorry about the wait…”

With a gasp Eren leveled himself up onto the rim. Now he was nearly at eye level with his customer. Not that he had eyes exactly, just indentations within the sludge. Nevertheless, he thought he saw the area around those indentations crinkling… and then his customer sagged forward in what could only be a nod. Eren puffed out a relieved breath.

“Thanks. Here you go, sir,” and he tugged hard on the rope.

Nothing.

Tug, tug….

Still nothing.

“C’mon, Sasha.” Eren pulled down with all his might. “C’mon don’t do this, not now—I’m gonna—I’m gonna kill you when I next see you—no. No, no, I’m gonna starve you that’s it—fuuuuck—that’s what I’ll do I swear, c’mon, Sasha, c’mon pleeeeease—shit!”

The water came all at once. Not through the chute in a single stream but bursting out through the top and spilling erratically off from the sides. It was a waterfall, forcing itself into the room with such strength that Eren never stood a chance. There was no luck in falling backwards this time and keeping his feet wasn’t an option. The second the water came Eren was falling forward into its depths—dark and dank, so dark, as dark as an ocean at night—and he had just enough time to realize what was about to happen, to well and truly understand his situation. So caught up in beating Irwin—in keeping his family safe— it had hardly occurred to Eren that he’d been slowly trapping himself in a room filling with water. It had just been a slight shiver at the edge of his mind, something he could ignore. Now though… now there was nowhere else to hide. Tick tock. Tick tock. Too late.

Eren opened his mouth to scream and the water rushed forward.

***

There was a time, almost a year after it happened, when Eren tried going back in the water.

Their village was a small one, comprised of thirty-five, maybe forty houses and only half that many public buildings: one school, one library, an arcade that consisted of games from their grandparents’ age, and no one really bothered to question any of this… except perhaps young boys in need of adventure.

Grisha Yeager, well liked and respected by the community, was the only “real” doctor in the area—with knowledge beyond how to bring down a fever or set a clean break—and because of this his family was one of the few that bothered owning a car; everyone else preferring to bike. It allowed him to reach those normally out of reach, just as it allowed him to pick up and leave their village with horrifying ease.

But that came later.

At that point in time he was still just a small-town doctor and father. Really more father than anything else considering that just a few months before he’d watched his son plunge into an ocean and would have sworn, standing there with wind and sand whipping his face, that that was it. The last he’d ever see of his son… Yet Eren had returned, miraculously, carrying with him a little girl who’d quickly become his daughter. A true, genuine miracle.

Despite the happy ending though, can you blame a father for keeping his son close from then on? Smothering him even?

Can you blame the boy for running away?

Eren had spent some nine months reacquainting himself with dry land. There were good things about life now, like Mikasa, but there was also his father’s deep voice telling him, “No, you may not go off alone,” and then his crying at night when he thought Eren couldn’t hear. His mother wasn’t much better. Playfully disappearing behind hanging laundry, Eren would reappear to find her face marred with panic instead of the indulgent smile she’d worn a hundred, a thousand times before. It made him sad and then when their expressions refused to change it just made him angry. Should he have just left Mikasa there? Sacrificed her to keep himself safe?

If they’d ever actually said that out loud… well, Eren wasn’t entirely sure what he’d have done. Something awful.

Things did get better of course. They almost always do when time’s involved but before that Eren broke. One day, with little provocation other than what had been building for months, he ran out of the house, down the dirt road, past the library, the houses, even beyond Hannes’ where he’d normally go to scream… all the way down to that little cluster of woods and the stream that trickled there. It had always been a (theoretically) peaceful spot.

Eren had once gone there all the time. Now he hadn’t been there in weeks and weeks and that was only partly because of his parents’ house arrest. Things were just so different now.

In more ways than one.

“Your mom’s going to be really mad when she finds you gone,” Mikasa said and Eren jumped with a surprised squeak. The creek wasn’t exactly nearby but during the entire journey he hadn’t once noticed her following him. Hannes said she moved like a cat and yeah, the pretty much covered it.

“She’s your mom too,” he said automatically.

Mikasa inched forward a little. Now Eren could hear the crunch of leaves as she stepped. Her breathing too, just barely labored.

“My mom’s dead.”

Eren winced. “Well yeah but… can’t you have more than one? Your mom’s still your mom but now my mom’s your mom too and…” Eren trailed off, growling at the words that weren’t coming out right. “My mom’s going to be worried when she finds you gone as well,” he finally said. Eren shrugged. “That makes her your mom too, okay? The worrying.”

To his shock Mikasa actually smiled, like all that mess was something she actually agreed with. Tiptoeing forward she came to stand at Eren’s side and took his hand in hers. It was a habit she’d gotten into. Or rather, one she’d never broken. Eren had grabbed her hand on that boat and he’d barely let go since. Maybe they were both a little afraid to.

Together the looked down at the water. It wasn’t anything impressive: just a stream, hardly deserving the name given how often it dried out during hot summers. It was at its best now though, with a steady flow of debris-ridden water moving past over rocks and into the mud of the surrounding bank. If Eren were to step down the water would just cover his ankles—maybe not even that. If he fell he’d get his shorts and the edge of his shirt wet, at the most. Nothing scary at all, right?

Right.

He didn’t move.

“I used to play in this all the time,” he whispered.

Mikasa nodded. She hadn’t known that, Eren hadn’t told her that until just now, but she nodded anyway.

“There are tadpoles sometimes. You can wade in, try to scoop ‘em up, but it’s not easy with how quick they are. There’s also a drop down that way.” Eren pointed a few yards down the stream where the water was too murky, hiding a suction hole of mud and sand. When he’d discovered it he’d been trapped for a while—you could really only find it by getting trapped—and that had been an awesome adventure. Eren had spent a good ten minutes trying to free himself and the only screams he’d let loose were those of laughter. Coming home muddy and bruised had been a treat.

“Do you want to go over there?” Mikasa asked. Her fingers were like ice against his.

“…Not really.” Eren swallowed. “Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay. Um but… should we anyway?”

It was a question Eren had wanted to pose for nine months now. It had occurred to him, in the fuzzy sort of way that dreams sometimes come back, or memories from photographs resurface, that maybe their parents couldn’t stop being scared so long as he was. Maybe, if he and Mikasa both came back muddy and bruised once more, it’d all be okay. Just one step in, that’s all it would take.

Eren took the step, his sneaker pushing into the grass along the bank. Mikasa followed. The water rose up to touch the toe of his shoe and he shivered. He couldn’t feel it—not yet, not quite yet…

“I’ll go in if you go in,” Mikasa said. She turned and pressed her cold nose against his neck. The feeling contrasted sharply with the warmth Eren could feel from her scarf, overheated from the spring sun. He didn’t know if she was seeking or offering comfort, so he settled on giving back in the best way he knew how:

“No. No…we don’t have to go in,” he said and they both sagged.

That was probably a lie though.

Eventually they decided on a compromise of sorts. Using his shoe Eren scooped up water from a safe distance and splashed it over them both. This was easier, comfortable even. Laughing they took turns soaking one another on dry land, bits of leaves and wood sticking to their skin. They pushed themselves, continuing it long enough that by the end they were shivering and the long walk back home wasn’t nearly enough time to dry their clothes. Eren entered his kitchen still holding Mikasa’s hand, both feet squishing.

“Eren!”

His mom’s voice overlaid with his father’s call of “Mikasa!” Their voices died though when they found their children, not just home, but positively, irrevocably wet.

“Did you go in the water?” Kalura breathed. Her gaze wavered between them, shocked and proud.

Eren fiddled with his sopping shirt. “Yes,” he lied and things got a little easier after that.

Maybe.

***

Here and now there was nothing for Eren to hold onto.

Mikasa’s hand was too far away, malformed and vicious; the safety of the bank was in another world entirely. Even his shoes were gone, presumably still in the care of Hanji.

Briefly, right before the water filled his ears Eren had thought he’d heard her calling out to him again… but she too was out of reach: over the tub walls and beyond the crowd of spirits watching him drown; remote.

Eren tried grabbing anyway. The sides of the tub, his guest, anything. All his hands met with was water. He was blind down there, the dirt and grime obscuring every hope of escape. He didn’t even know which way was up anymore, only that if felt like he was heading down. Turning in a darkened void Eren could hear the pounding of water around him, more and more pouring in over his head, burying him alive. The thought alone made him scream and what a mistake that was as the water was finally able to reach Eren’s lungs.

He panicked, he thrashed. Eren screamed for his family and for Corporal. He wanted him here, now, using his swords to tear and slash through the water with the same ferocity he’d shown on land—and surely Corporal would come for him, surely. Eren knew this feeling, knew it well: the numbness in his limbs and the fire in his throat. This was familiar… but something was missing too. Someone was missing and it wasn’t Mikasa. It wasn’t a hand in his but one latching around his arm. Not a hand at all, was it? No. Colder, slick. The touch of scales…

Torn between memories and the present Eren was still aware enough to realize that Corporal wasn’t coming. If he had been he would have been here by now, with swords and a scowl and maybe a kind word if Eren was lucky. He cried, curled into a ball as best he could and just hyperventilated against his knees.

It took Eren a long, long time to realize what was wrong with that.

Drowning boys didn’t hyperventilate.

With a gasp—a literal gasp that drew air into his lungs—Eren sat up. Or rather, he twisted out of his ball. He was still in the water, still bobbing, but the roaring had become a gentle murmur and the water itself was clearer now, with hues resembling a crystal lake rather than the sludge Eren remembered falling into. Even as he thought these things they became more distinct, defining themselves around him. Eren could open his eyes without feeling the sting of cleaning solutions and he continued to breathe—in out, in out, it made him tremble and shake—each breath just a little calmer than the last. When there was no more grey impeding his vision Eren realized that he wasn’t dreaming… and he wasn’t dead. Not yet, not yet. Slowly he extended his arm in a daring search.

He’d been wrong before. All the water hadn’t gotten clearer, just a portion of it. Eren was literally in a bubble, a pocket of water within water, something safe amidst all that terror. He could touch the boundaries of his world and see where the filthy bathwater began—to his left and right and up and down, just a foot or so in all directions. It was still close though and Eren tried to fit himself within the very middle of his sanctuary, where it was safe. A good decision.

Eren sighed in teary relief. It was warmer here too. The cold in his limbs was slipping away while the fire in his lungs dulled to a soothing temperature. He could breathe again. It made Eren laugh a little crazily and feeling himself laugh made him cackle all the harder. He was laughing. Laughing! Around him the water rippled like it was laughing too.

Then Eren began to rise.

At first the movement, the feeling of water swaying gently over his body, made him try to snatch at the ‘walls’ of his bubble and stop the momentum; which was useless of course. But then Eren caught a glimpse of light overhead, the size of, say, the opening of a very large tub, and he laughed again at the realization that he was actually rising—going up. When he broke the surface Eren only realized this because that light grew stronger and there were indistinct shapes to his left, like a group of panicking spirits. He was still in a bubble of water… but in an instant that too disappeared. It pulled away from Eren starting at the top of his head, like he was a chick being peeled from an egg. It sort of felt sort of like a birth too. Eren sat there, coughing, feeling wet and warm and still a little bit shaky.

He was sitting on someone’s hand. His guest’s. Eren blinked up into where the eyes should be.

“Thank you,” he tried to say but it came out only as a croak. The spirit hummed anyway.

Then it pulled him forward again.

Eren tensed. There was still water everywhere: flooding the floor, pouring from the chute, rising in unnatural waves around the tub. Off to the side he could just make out the other spirits amidst the chaos. Hanji had finally pushed her way to the front but she like all the others stood in shocked awe at the power thrumming through the water. It defied gravity, rising up to create a barrier between the workers and Eren, between Eren and his guest, with just his brown head peeking up above like the tip of a mountain. Said guest was pulling Eren directly towards one of those waves and Eren froze. With a cry and two slipped tears he squeezed his eyes shut, resigned to being submerged once more… but then they stopped, right at the edge, with Eren’s nose just an inch from the column of water. He took a beloved breath even as his throat kept making squeaky noises. Hesitantly he looked up.

“Muuuurrrrh.”

His guest’s voice was deep, the sound rumbling through the sludge of his body and up into Eren’s. He drew his hand towards the columns of water again, bumping Eren lightly against the wetness. Eren flinched.

“What do you want?” His voice came out a scratchy whine. Eren wanted to reach out a hand and let some of the water spill into his palm. He wanted to take a drink… but he didn’t dare. He couldn’t. Instead he swallowed five quick times and tried breathing in the damp air.

“Please put me down,” he said.

“Errruh,” That was a no and Eren smacked a fist down on the creature’s hand. It made another noise, this time sounding slightly pained. At first Eren thought that he’d hurt him… but that was ridiculous. He peered upward confusedly and took a few deep breaths.

“What is it?” Eren asked, deliberately calm.

Silence. Nothing but the sound of water surrounding him. Still shaking, Eren dug one hand into his thigh and forced the other to rise, heading in the direction of the spirit’s massive, engulfed body. His guest nodded.

“You want me to reach in there…?”

Another nod.

“No.” Eren said. “No, no, no, no—” He shook his head wildly, droplets flying from his hair. “I won’t. No!”

His guest grunted again, sounding slightly disappointed. He didn’t pull Eren back into the water though. They just sat there a moment, the spirit staring, Eren giving the best glare he could.

It was warm here though and slowly, ever so slowly, Eren began to relax. The firm feeling of his guest’s hand helped too—unmoving; just a bit like land. It wasn’t forcing him to go anywhere he didn’t want to go. They were just two beings, sitting together. Breathing.

As Eren’s body well and truly fell out of the panic he’d been in he was finally able to catalog what else was around him; what else he could feel. Beneath him his guest’s hand was harder than he’d imagined. Sludgy yes, just liked it looked, but Eren’s fingers brushed along with the confidence that came with touching something solid… until they encountered a sharp prick. With a soft ‘oh’ Eren drew his hand back and found a drop of red on his pinkie. The blood quickly washed away with the rest of the flood and returning to that spot Eren carefully dug and pulled out a shiny piece of… metal?

He held it up. “Is this what hurts?”

“Eeeeeh.” His guest nodded. Shook his head.

“More?”

A nod, a nod.

Eren set to work. The spirit’s hand was enormous and in Eren’s little spot alone he found three more bits of metal buried in the muck, along with candy wrappers and the core of a pear. He let it all drop bemusedly into the water below. Hesitating, Eren looked back up at the body.

“There’s something else caught in your chest?” He asked. Eren didn’t need a verbal confirmation that tiem. The water was still a rush of power around them but for just an instant—a millisecond—it thinned and Eren could see through the few layers of grime that had already been washed away. There, at eye level to him was something else long and shiny sticking out from the spirit’s side. Despite his fear Eren leaned forward just a bit and then grimaced. It looked painful.

“You need to put me down,” he called up. Embolden, Eren turned on the edge of a finger, gesturing frantically to be set down on the edge of the tub. “C’mon trust me. Put me down!”

He was—carefully—and balancing there Eren could just make out the crowd in the doorway. A few had tried to rush forward when he’d slipped, Hanji chief among them, but the majority had backed up out of the way. Whatever insanity was going on down in the boiler room must have be letting up because the chute slowly tapered its endless water supply, then finally stopped. The floor was still a foot deep with murky bathwater and the columns around his guest were still going strong but now Eren could actually see through the mist, well enough to hail his friends.

“Hanji!”

Hanji rushed forward at the sound of his voice, clomping through the water. She kicked up quite the spray.

“Human!” She shrieked. Making it to the tube she reached up. Eren dared to lean forward and they were just able to clasp hands. “You—you—you scared me to death, you stupid—what happened? Are you okay?!”

No. Absolutely not. Eren was soaked and still shaking and absolutely none of that was due to being cold. The water Sasha had sent was hot, hot, hot and now the room was beginning to feel like a sauna. Eren swallowed, his throat going dry again.

“I’m fine!” He shouted. “But I think he’s got a thorn.” Eren pointed back to the spirit.

“A thorn?”

“Yeah, or something. Do we have any rope?”

“Rope?”

It was probably the only time in her life, dead or otherwise, that Hanji looked at someone as if they were the crazy one. Before she could answer though someone else emerged from the steam. After some struggling Eren was able to look down into the relieved face of Marco. He was as wet as anyone else and behind him came Jean, crashing through the water like an errant bull.

“We got here just as…” Marco trailed off. He didn’t need to say it. Jean’s hands pulling at his hair said it all. “Never mind. We’re glad you’re okay.” Marco too reached up, placing his hand over theirs. Water still spilled over the sides of the tub, running over their grips, and Eren resisted the urge to pull away from it because he wanted to feel this—them—even if it meant feeling the water too. He smiled at Marco the best he could.

“Jean?” Marco didn’t take his eyes off Eren. “Have we got rope for the insane human boy?”

“Rope,” Jean echoed faintly. “Yeah. Sure.” He finally looked at Eren. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Later,” Eren quipped, but he knew that they could see it. The three of them stared as Eren shook like a leaf under their gazes. He didn’t want to turn around, back towards those rushing, unnatural walls of water; he didn’t even want to step down into the calm, gently sloshing water below. Neither. No more water. Eren was happy right here, suspended between with his friends as an anchor.

Then Jean joined his hand with the rest. His nails found Eren’s fingers on the bottom of the pile and dug harsh crescent moons.

“You finishing this, kid, or what?”

Was he? Eren looked at Hanji, Marco, Jean… Corporal was somewhere off in the distance… his family was even further… but they were there. Still there.

“Don’t call me kid,” he growled and that was answer enough. “Go get the fucking rope, horse-face.”

Chapter Text

Whatever magic was controlling the water kept most of the other spirits at bay. As Jean dashed off for rope only Moblit dared enter the room. He kept up a steady, hoping pace that allowed him to skim over the water. With a splutter and a cough he landed hard on Marco’s bad shoulder.

“What happened?” he cried.

“Human fell in,” Hanji answered. She was slowly massaging Eren’s fingers. Even through the water Eren could feel callouses dotting her skin. They felt wonderful, like garden tools and instruments and everything else you found on land. He held on tight.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. So quietly he wasn’t sure anyone heard. “I fell in.”

Marco nodded at Moblit, letting him know he was good where he was. “Any reaction from…?” His eyes drifted upwards. Moblit shook his head, nearly upending him from his perch.

“No. It’s the steam.”

Eren looked too. Moblit was right. He couldn’t even begin to make out Irwin and for that he was beyond grateful. The steam was everywhere now, obscuring what wasn’t already blocked by the waterfalls their spirit had created. Taking his time Eren took in the odd structures, keeping balance on Hanji as he turned from side to side. The water was falling but didn’t seem to be emanating from anywhere in particular. They were just recycled, huge columns of water, six of them… strategically placed around his guest’s massive form.

“I think he’s defending himself,” Eren murmured.

“What?” Marco called.

“He’s defending himself!”

Eren waved his arm at the swirling water and he could see the moment the others got it too. The columns weren’t just intimidating; they were outright dangerous, with the water pulsing at a speed capable of blowing any fool right off his feet.

“Defending himself from what?” Hanji asked.

A stupid question. Eren was starting to think that all this steam wasn’t natural either. Yeah, Sasha had sent a bit more hot water than they’d needed… but not that much. Not enough to create this. It was a little too convenient that the steam was converging directly above their heads and sides, ensuring that a certain sorcerer couldn’t see the events below… yet Eren’s friends could still find their way to him on the ground. The others cast looks of understanding all around.

Cautiously Marco reached out towards the water and then immediately drew his hand back with a hiss. His whole arm had been shot away the second he’d made contact and now he shook it like it had gone numb. Marco tried flashing Eren a grin.

“I don’t think he wants me going near him,” he said.

“Me either,” Hanji said with a yelp. Still holding onto Eren with one hand she’d tried thrusting her other into the fray (showing far less thoughtfulness than Marco). It reverberated, throwing them both off balance. Eren crouched to steady himself on the tub’s edge while Hanji’s wayward arm struck Moblit in the face. He tumbled off Marco’s shoulder and hit the water with a ‘plop.’

“Sorry!” She called.

He emerged with water spouting from his mouth, then gave a growl. Eren hadn’t even known frogs could growl.

“Well I’m not trying that!” He huffed.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” Marco shook his head. “The force of it would probably send you flying into a wall. It could very well crack your skull.” He ignored Moblit’s horrified expression and simply turned to Eren. He was smiling more easily now. “Bet you anything you can get back through though…” Marco trailed off, waiting with his remaining eyebrow raised.

Eren grit his teeth.

“Go on,” Hanji urged. She gave his hand a squeeze and then tugged him back into a standing position. “Go, human, go human, go!” Chanting, she gave an odd, one-handed version of a cheerleader’s routine. This time she nearly succeeded in kicking poor Moblit.

“Hanji, that is not helping—”

“Shut it, frog-face. I know humans. They need encouragement. Faith! What do you know about human boys, huh?”

“You’re too erratic, Hanji—!”

Eren had to let go of Hanji’s hand in order to move forward so he did just that. Then: step one, push the bickering to the back of his mind. Step two, determinedly face the water. Right. Step three.

It went against every instinct Eren possessed to reach back into that stuff. It didn’t help that he’d only just come out of it… made even worse by seeing his friends hurt by it… Eren ended up standing there, knees knocking together, his arm having frozen at the level of his waist. No matter what he said to himself—weaseling and reasoning and curses—it just wouldn’t move. He was stuck and a large part of him was totally okay with that.

“You’ll have to at some point,” Marco said gently. “When Jean gets back...”

Yeah... yeah, fuck. That pretty much covered it. Eren could wish for things all he wanted but here at the bathhouse need took precedence over desire, and he needed a hell of a lot right now: to win this little game of Irwin’s, to ensure his family’s continued safety, to not let his friends down… all of that was a little more important than his need to run for the hills, even if his body disagreed. Hell, there was even a need, small as it was, to prove to himself that he could go back in, even just once… though admittedly, this was a bit different from a thinning stream in his hometown, wasn’t it? Scarier. Terrifying really. Eren could admit that freely.

There was another need too though—debts, the need to repay. He couldn’t lie to himself and say that his guest hadn’t saved his hide back there. Eren owned him for pulling him out of the water when no one else could—or would—and as far has he was concerned, that debt was huge. Mega huge. Like, convincing-stupid-human-boys-to-touch-the-water-they’d-just-been-saved-from huge. And god, wasn’t that just the way the universe worked. Screwing him over.

His guest gave another grunt. Like the ones before it sounded vaguely pained and that set Eren forward. With a cry he shoved his hand back through the column of water, half expecting to be thrown back like the others had; to lose his balance and plunge into that black void once more.

He didn’t though. Instead Eren blinked at his arm, now invisible up to the elbow. He’d sliced through the water as easily as butter. Dimly he felt Marco reaching up to pat his back and Eren whirled.

“D-don’t shove me,” he said and Marco quickly removed his hand.

“Got it.”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“Eren,” he said. “I got it.”

Before Eren could try apologizing again, or figure out what exactly he thought he was apologizing for, a call of “Here!” cut through the steam. Moments later they were able to make out Jean’s form, a coil of rope slung lazy-like around his shoulders. He snatched one end and tossed it to Marco, Marco caught it with ease and tossed it to Hanji, Hanji rose up on tiptoes and when she found that she was now just out of reach, Moblit hopped up onto her head. With a leap he took the rope and landed at Eren’s side.

“Tie it tight,” he said.

With one hand already in the water it should have been easy to do it second time… but it wasn’t. Watching his second hand disappear into the swirl of blue and foam was almost worse because then, despite the solidity of the spirit’s body to lean against, Eren felt like he’d lost all balance, like he was going to be sucked in any moment—forever. It wasn’t like he could see through the water anyway so Eren just shut his eyes, curled his toes against the warm ceramic, locked his arm muscles, and concentrated on the sludgy muck beneath his fingers.

It only took a minute for him to find it: the sharply pointed object sticking out about a foot from his client’s side. It was slick though, the rope slipping off the end once… twice… more times than Eren was comfortable remaining there. Finally, with a muffled scream that was two parts frustration and one part fear, Eren dove in until the water was covering his shoulder. That got the knot tied. He doubled it because hell was he going to do this again.

“Done!” He called.

Marco scowled at their rag tag team, then down at his own arm. “We’re gonna need more than this. Hey, everyone!”

Slowly, spirits crept into the hall, all of them gaping at the chaos surrounding them—the raw power forced into one, tiny room. Marco shuffled them like sheep until a line had formed and only when they got a sense of what was happening did the energy pick up. Eren took a deep breath and kept his hands where they were, deep in the water, while Moblit took up the rope over his shoulder. Hanji took the portion that swung down from the tub, Jean moved to stand directly behind her, Marco right behind him… then a toad, then a cat, then a whole track of spirits, back and back and back. They reached so far into the mist that Eren hadn’t a clue how many there were. A lot probably. Maybe all.

“On the count of three…” Eren felt disembodied, like his voice was coming from someone else. He could just make out his reflection in the column of water and yes, those were his lips moving.

“One…”

“One!” The crowed called back.

“Two…”

“Two!”

“Three.”

“Three!”

“—heave!”

Eren gripped and threw his weight backwards. The only thing that kept him from flying was the sheer mass of their guest and the suction his body created around whatever was stuck in there. It felt positively huge, heavy in a manner Eren was unaccustomed to. Like trying to pull a whole horse out of quicksand and before he knew it Eren found that he’d started up a chant, a dose of much needed encouragement.

“Heave!” He screamed and the spirits behind him roared in assent.

“Heave!”

“Heave!”

“Heave!”

“Heave—!” A sudden hush fell as the rope slackened and something came flying outwards with impressive speed. Eren watched as it arced over his head, landing with a light clink by Hanji’s feet. Moblit scampered down into the water and snatched it up, wary of the sharp edges.

“A wine bottle?” He said, incredulous.

“Don’t stop now, Shifter.”

Eren stiffened.

Careful of his footing, he turned to find Irwin floating in the air beside him. The sorcerer cast a disdainful look at the flooded floor and one ten thousand times worse at their guest, still encased in his protective wall of water. Irwin inched forward, his hand raised, almost as if he wanted to test for himself if he could get through… but then his fingers dropped to Eren’s shoulder. With a cry Eren tore away and nearly lost his balance. He squatted there, his hands buried in the spirit’s side, clinging, huffing, trying to ignore Irwin’s pleased expression.

“Don’t stop,” he said again and Irwin gestured to their guest. “I assure you, I wasn’t expecting this. Even I couldn’t have come up with such an ingenious challenge for you, though heaven knows I would have liked to try!” For the first time Eren heard Irwin laugh and the sound actually drew him closer to the water, eager to get away. “That’s not a stink spirit at all, oh no. Someone far ruder than any trash soul you’d find in a back alley. I’d even go so far as to say he’s…barbaric.” Irwin spat the word like it was something foul, like he’d gotten a poisoned mouthful of the spirit’s body.

He flew even closer until his nose nearly touched the roaring water. Eren was fairly sure it wasn’t just his imagination but the columns seemed to expand in response to Irwin’s presence, gaining strength. Eren looked back and found he wasn’t the only one getting nervous. Hanji and Moblit both backed up a few steps, casting hesitant looks all around.

Suddenly Irwin thrust his hand into the left pocket of his pants, the same place Eren had earlier seen him stuff the gold that had been given as payment. Now his fingers came back up covered in dust, only a faint sparkle remaining.

“Yes, I’ve a decent idea about who’s hiding under that filth!” Irwin roared. He slammed his empty palm against the wall of water, sending a spark of magic reverberating about the room. “You are not getting out of paying this time!”

He rounded on Eren, the whites of his eyes showing prominently, a bit of sweat gleaming against his upper lift. “What are you waiting for, human?” He jeered. “You want to keep your family save? Then pull!”

Eren didn’t need to be told twice. In his eagerness to get some distance between him and Irwin he’d slipped partway back through the water. Now he scrambled, briefly, to find the rope again. When he did he found it already taught behind him—his friends pulling, the other spirits pulling, all of them out of alignment. Eren hazarded a quick look backwards and found that it wasn’t at all like when he’d been giving the orders. Now everyone tugged frantically at their own speed, shaking under Irwin’s continued shouts and gestures. Even the Corporal’s team had lost the synchronization that, until now, Eren hadn’t even realized he’d characterized them by. They had come to stand between Jean and Marco, crammed together where there was really no room—Oluo pulling harder than the rest, Mike still looking sick, Petra had wrapped the rope about her arms in a way that made her lips thin with pain, and Gunther… he was directly in front of Erd. The two of them barely pulled at all. Their bodies only moved forward and back in a manner reminiscent of what others were doing, their eyes hard.

Despite the inconsistency, brute strength eventually won out. Within a minute Eren was forced to duck another projectile. He didn’t get the chance to see exactly what it was but he heard the cry from another as it landed hard against their head. Then came a glop of mud with feathers mashed into the bottom; another that gleamed prettily as it passed. When it hit the water at their feet the dirt spread away and Eren gapped at the wicked looking knife that remained.

After that the junk came in waves: copper pots and deflated tires, orange peels, scraps of leather, fraying balls of twine, a heap of moldy cardboard boxes (one of which looked as if it contained a dead kitten; Eren pulled away with a cry), paper so wet it had reverted to pulp, the remains of a leg chair, some poor, abandoned stuffed animal, too deformed to identify; a whole damn bicycle… it just kept coming and Eren could only think hysterically that now he was glad Corporal wasn’t here with them. Who knew what he’d do in reaction to such a mess.

Eventually the waves of filth became so huge Eren had to slip back down the side of the tub, not without some relief. He bumped into Hanji and the two of them started to lead the backwards charge, pulling harder and harder and continually making their way towards the door. The water on the floor was up to Eren’s calves and he shivered in it, despite the overall warmth of the room.

When his arms weren’t straining and his hands weren’t burning from the rope, Eren had time to process the insanity of it all. He’d tied the rope to a wine bottle… a bottle had a come flying out first thing. How then was the rope still attached? Attached to what exactly? How did the garbage pass through the water with ease; what was so special about him? What were they going to find when all of this was through? He didn’t have answers to any of it.

Eren watched bug-eyed as more and more sludge spilled down onto the floor. That was their spirit’s body… wasn’t it? Were they hurting him? He looked up but even his guest’s head was now hidden, nearly encased as he was in that cylinder of water. He hadn’t made a sound since they’d first started.

“Pull!” Irwin screamed. “Pull or so help you all!”

They did, and eventually there was nothing more to pull at.

The rest of it came so fast Eren never stood a chance of getting out of the way. A mountain of mud and trash poured out of the tub, rushing with a speed that couldn’t be explained entirely by their efforts. Feeling very small, Eren was dimly aware of the rope slipping from his fingers, the swish sound it made as it eased into the flood. Then that sound was drowned out by the clang of solid, sharp, ancient objects curving towards him. Directly at his back Eren heard Hanji yell, the sound close enough to thrum against his ears but too far away to help, and if his attention hadn’t briefly been diverted by her voice Eren may have noticed the wall of water finally breaking—curving away from the spirit with terrifying consciousness, somehow moving faster than the speeding garbage… reaching for him.

As it was, Eren only realized what had happened when his world went blue-green again and his lungs filled with a warmth that he recognized as not-oxygen, not exactly. Water then. That had, apparently, saved him. Eren gave a tiny, incomprehensible ‘meep.’

He rose, looked down. The force of the filth and water had dispersed the steam surrounding them. Now Eren could see the whole line of sprits, most of which had been knocked off their feet, all of whom were covered in something disgusting. Even Irwin hadn’t escaped unscathed. The bottoms of his shoes were now splattered with numerous unmentionables. He hadn’t seemed to notice yet though, gaping as he was at Eren floating past. With a hand that seemed detached from the rest of his emotional state Eren made a rude gesture and pointed out the stains. Score.

Then Irwin disappeared, pulling backwards, and Eren realized he’d been drawn into another boundary of water. He rested his head against his little, liquid prison. He breathed and breathed.

“Really?” Eren panted the word and the water against his mouth rippled in response. Huh. So he could talk. Eren drew in a huge breath and—

“IS THIS REALLY FUCKING NECESSARY?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Eren whirled—or tried. He was floating in water after all and his jump turned into more of a sweeping twist. It gave him time to come to terms with what he was seeing though, before he actually had to make eye contact with it.

He’d been worried about dismantling this guest of theirs… he shouldn’t have been. What remained of the spirit, what was now coiled up inside their giant tub was somehow more massive than the monster that had first entered their bathhouse. Or maybe it only appeared that way. Regardless, Eren’s mind was translating power and personality into size. Whatever. He was still, unimaginably huge.

A long, ethereal body curled on top of itself like a snake’s—like the kind Eren had once stepped on in the garden, bitten twice and forced to hobble home. There were at least four layers of white flesh sitting top over bottom and Eren was sure of that because it wasn’t actually flesh at all, but rather a transparent existence that Eren could see through as easily as he saw through the aimless ghosts beyond the bridge. This spirit wasn’t aimless though. Tiny, clawed feet twitched independently of one another, spread in intervals about the body, looking anxious and sharp. At the end of all this was a human head that seemed almost foolish amongst all the splendor. There were age lines in those cheeks and a fearsome knowledge about the eyes. Eren let his indignation bleed away in the face of wisdom and he found himself bowing his head in respect even as he was drawn forward. Eren’s bubble was set gently on the edge of the tub… and then it popped. He wobbled in the air once again. Eren became aware that he was caught between another, endless boundary of water and one very scary spirit.

Fucking fantastic.

The silence stretched. “Hello,” Eren ventured.

“Hey right back-atcha” came the response and Eren’s mouth dropped low at how friendly the voice sounded. It was like listening to a grandfather. Or a doting—but outlandish—uncle.

“You’re…?”

“The spirit you gave such a good scrubbing to just now? Sure am.” Eren’s guest inclined his head slightly. “Wasn’t planning on popping in here tonight, I’ll admit. Old Irwin and I don’t exactly get along, don’t you know. But then a friend of mine dives in and says there’s a human at the bathhouse—a human! Imagine that, why don’t you. I would’ve checked something like that out anyway but then he’s going on and on about what a cutie you are, real helpful too. How could I not come? Oh, he says thanks for the buckets by the way.”

“He…” Eren swayed until one claw reached out to knock against his knees. He sat heavily on the tub’s lip and watched, incredulous, as the spirit produced another wine bottle from seemingly nowhere. This one was full.

“Have a seat now. There you go.” He spit out the cork and took a drink. Then held out a different claw until Eren hesitantly shook ‘hands.’

“Name’s Dot, human boy, it’s great to meet ya. Have a drink why don’t you? We’ve a whole lot to discuss.”

Chapter Text

The sphere of water roared behind Eren’s head while Dot grinned in front of him. Alcohol. He’d never had it before, never been allowed, but he knew his father sometimes took a drink when things got rough.

Eren snatched the bottle.

“I really do need to thank you.” Dot said. “You got a name then? Bah, course you do, but Irwin snatched it up didn’t he? What an asshole. Don’t worry, I’ll just call you kiddo, Kiddo.”

“Do not,” Eren growled. He sniffed the bottle’s rim.

“Now don’t be like that, Kiddo. We’re comrades now. Haven’t had a cleaning like that in decades, not since the last time I stiffed Irwin his fee.” Dot chuckled, his whole body shivering in amusement. “Serves him right. Wouldn’t bother coming back here at all but I’m a river spirit you see and sadly the bed of rocks and water I’m tied to is always having some sort of shit tossed into it. You saw what accumulated after—ho there!”

Dot convulsed with laughter as Eren choked. The wine burned as it went down—holy fuck it burned—settling only after a few hefty coughs. Then his stomach started rolling in protest. Eren shoved the bottle away and Dot thankfully took it back.

“That’s horrid!” He cried as soon as he could speak. Dot only continued laughing.

“Ah, you only think that because you don’t know better.” He took several long drinks as Eren grimaced. He could see the red wine sliding down what passed for his throat.

When Dot looked again at Eren his face had gone dreadfully serious.

“You know what’s actually horrid?” He asked. “This. All of this, Kiddo.” Six of Dot’s claws gestured to the bathhouse around them. “Awful time we live in, when someone like Irwin wields this much power. No offense now, but how does a puny human like you end up facing off against him?”

“It’s a long story.” Eren rubbed at his forehead… then snapped it up. “Whoa wait. What do you mean, ‘face off against’? He’s got me cornered!”

Dot’s wrinkled cheeks spread into a grin. “Not exactly the story I’ve been hearing. Alright, alright, I’m not gonna lie to you, Kiddo. My webbed friend was all proud of his info—I wasn’t gonna crush the poor thing—but tonight sure wasn’t the first time I’d heard about you.”

“…What.” Eren’s head dropped back into his hands.

“These last two days? More excitement than I’ve witnessed in centuries! Humans wandering into Irwin’s playpen… it’s not so rare an occurrence on its own, I’m sad to say, but then I’m hearing whispers that a human boy, just a little squirt of a thing, wasn’t actually turned into…you know.” Dot’s body slithered forward, rippling with excitement. “Not only that but I’m hearing that he went and got himself a job! You realize the significance of that, Kiddo? Not many did that before you. Hell, not sure any human’s done it at all. Then there’s all sorts of other gossip flying left and right—you holding your own, demanding your family back… that’s some gall you got there. We could use more like you.” Dot tapped one claw against his chin. “Or maybe just you. Yeah… you’re more than enough, provided you’ve got enough help ‘o course.”

“You sound like Corporal.” Eren said.

Dot flashed a smile. “Do I? And who’s Corporal?”

“A… friend.”

Eren was hesitant to say more, especially with Irwin right outside. As if summoned by that thought Eren felt the water behind him curving inward for a moment, stretching, like someone was pounding on a flexible door. The sudden violence made him jump and Eren tumbled into the tub. Dot’s many legs and arms caught him though, cradling him like a crazy, paternal centipede. When Eren opened his eyes that smile was still there.

“Don’t worry now, Kiddo. He can’t get in. Not until I let him. Irwin may be powerful but I’m old as these hills and wisdom beats brute strength any day, lemme tell you.” Dot winked, then sat Eren back on his butt. “Why don’t you tell me about this Corporal friend of yours then?”

Eren fidgeted. “There’s not much to tell…”

“Nonsense. How about a trade? I have friend as well.” Dot said.

Was it Eren’s imagination, or did his face grow older? More tired?

“He’s loyal,” Dot continued, “almost to a fault I’d have to say, and ooooh so stubborn. Tenacious bastard if ever there was one. But kind too, even if he sometimes has trouble showing it. Ah, what else… well, he’s a bit of a fool if I’m being honest. Still—lovable. In his own way I suppose.” Dot suddenly leaned forward, his wrinkled brow almost touching Eren’s nose. “He’s an ocean spirit, Kiddo.”

“Ocean?” Eren croaked.

Unbidden memories surfaced—literally—rising like a wave over his mind. They gained strength from the events of the last hour and the sound of water still surrounding them. Eren tried to breath through it… and he mostly succeeded. Keeping eye contact with Dot sort of help as he just nodded in a sympathetic, understanding kind of way.

“There, there, Kiddo. Fear is natural. You know that, don’t you? No one’s gonna judge you for it. Though I must say, what you’re taking on with that pissy sorcerer is far scarier than any body of water, especially an ocean! Don’t you know the spirits there help humans like you? Why, my friend alone pulls kids from the water all the time.”

Sinking, falling, the cold of Mikasa’s hand in his, reaching with his other—up, up, and the touch of scales—

“Wait.” Eren breathed. “What do you—?”

“DOT!”

The scream pierced the water and struck Eren’s ears so forcefully he ducked his head into his knees. That had to be amplified by magic. Had to be.

“Oh learn some patience, you nincompoop!” Dot hollered back. With a sigh he heaved his massive bulk upwards, his hundreds of claws scrambling for purchase against the tub’s sides. “Bah. I doubt that bastard has it in him to knock down my water… but I don’t wanna find out. Do you, Kiddo?”

“Nope.” Eren immediately said and he allowed Dot to help hoist him back up.

“You should really do something about him,” Dot muttered as another strike reverberated around them.

“Like what?” Huffing with exhaustion and indignation, Eren threw is arms up into the air. “What exactly am I supposed to do, huh? Tell me! I’d love to hear it! Because all I’ve managed so far is to run and clean and cry—” Viciously Eren swiped a hand across his eyes, the word alone enough to get him going. “And get my family turned into t-titan things, there’s fucking that, and then y-you came along and I had to work with—with—” Eren couldn’t even say the word, just gestured to all the blue around them. “And then I fell in. I fucking fell in and you got me out, yeah, whatever, but I’m tired and what am I supposed to do? Against Irwin? Fuck! I don’t have magical powers or an army of spirits or even—even—I don’t even own a fucking bathhouse!”

Dot smiled. “Neither does Irwin, Kiddo. Not technically.”

Eren boggled. “What are you talking about?”

Dot only shook his head as more and more strikes rippled along the water, Irwin’s muffled voice now coming in intervals. “You’ll figure it out, Kiddo, don’t fret. There now, that’s enough of the tears. I have faith.” A few claws came up to stroke against Eren’s back. “Look at you! You’re a force to be reckoned with. We’re in good hands, I’m sure, I’m sure.” Dot started chuckling and, honestly, Eren couldn’t tell if he was being made fun of or not. He settled for pressing his palms hard against his eyes.

“I hate Irwin,” he hissed.

“Yep. Snotty bastard.” Dot tilted his head, considering. “Erwin’s not bad though.”

“What?”

“Erwin.”

Eren pointed accusingly at the water. Flapped at what was behind it. Pointed again.

“What?” He repeated.

“What, what?”

“You hate Irwin!” Right? “I hate Irwin!”

“Well yeah,” Dot said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But I don’t hate Erwin.”

“Irwin?”

“Erwin.”

“For fuck’s… do you ever talk sense?”

“I try not to,” Dot laughed. The claws nudged Eren a bit to the side. “Enough of that now. I’m afraid I need to head out before Irwin really blows his cap. You’ll want to keep to the side as this goes on. Just hold the tub’s edge, I’ll take care of the rest. Oh and don’t forget…”

There was suddenly a wine bottle under Eren’s nose. At first he thought it was the same one Dot had been drinking from before, but no. The cork was still wedged inside and it was far smaller, barely the size of Eren’s hand. He reared back from it in distaste.

“Don’t be like that, Kiddo. It’s your payment!”

“On the house, sir.” Eren muttered and Dot wiggled his long body like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

“Take it, take it, go on. You don’t have to drink it yourself if you don’t want to.” All at once his face went dark as the grave. “Seriously now, Kiddo. You’ll want this on your person; mark my words. You really think I’d be giving you just ordinary wine?”

Slowly, Eren took the bottle. “Well what does it do then?”

“You’ll figure it out. I’m not ruining the surprise.”

“You are completely useless. I can’t believe…”

Eren couldn’t believe he’d been bowing, terrified of this crazy old coot; that he’d spent the last hour in hell washing the muck off his back. But he wasn’t going to say it. Dot hardly seemed to be listening to him anyway.

“That’s it, Kiddo. Just tuck that bottle away where silly Irwin won’t see it.” Dot winked as Eren obediently stashed the wine beneath his shirt and secured in under the elastic of his pants. He hopped nothing else exciting happened tonight. If he smashed the wine like he had his and Corporal’s lunch, he’d have not only a mess but also several lacerations to boot. Lovely.

Eren wearily let his eyes rest for a moment. In the darkness he said, “You still haven’t told me what exactly I’m supposed to do.”

“Give him hell!” Dot cheered. “You’ve been managing that well enough so far.”

Eren sighed.

When he opened his eyes again Dot was nearly completely out of the tub. His upper body was curled next to Eren’s, facing the entrance that was still hidden outside the water. The rest of him stretched across the tub and down onto the floor, some of his claws paddling against the tile. He looked like a dog getting reading to spring at a ball—more excitement than threat, but that was still many pounds of paws and teeth coming your way. If Dot had a tail Eren would have bet everything it would have been wagging.

“Ready, Kiddo?”

“No.”

“Fantastic. Just hold on tight—yep, just like that—and keep still until I’m gone. Don’t want anymore mishaps, do you?”

Eren shivered. He couldn’t agree more.

Still…

“What about Irwin?” he pressed. Thinking about it sent an entirely different kind of chill down Eren’s spine. “You’re just going to leave me to deal with him?” On cue the water around them shook again, Irwin’s shouts becoming increasingly hysterical.

Dot stared at Eren a moment then rolled his eyes. He looked slightly put out. “Oh fine, fine, Kiddo. Jeez. I’ll leave him a little something to get him off your back.” Seemingly to himself he whispered: “Can’t believe I’m actually gonna pay the bastard… well…”

“Alright!” Dot slammed four claws down on the tub’s rim. Eren tightened his own hold. “That’s enough chit-chat. Ready or not, Kiddo, here we go!”

***

When it was all over there were twelve injured spirits, one foaming sorcerer, and the floor was covered in gold.

Dot had quite literally blown through the bathhouse before anyone, even Irwin, had the presence of mind to stop him. One moment Eren was gripping the tub, his butt in the air, his fingers white and his breath standing still… the next the water surrounding them dropped. All at once like a curtain flying down at the end of a show. Eren caught a brief glimpse of Irwin raising his arm to throw another handful of magic—his face rapidly moving from fury to shock—his friends huddled in a corner some feet away, equally surprised at their sudden appearance… and then that brief, wonderful second of peace was broken. With a cackling laugh Dot flew up into the air, bringing the thousands of pounds of water with him. It swirled about his body like a protective tunnel, or a battering ram, for he pummeled through the spirits with ease. Eren rocked on his perch for a moment, stunned. He could just hear the ‘bang’ in the distance as Dot flew through the front door, leaving their bathhouse behind.

Then Hanji was there.

She didn’t say a word, which in and of itself said a lot about her—and everyone else’s—emotional state. Bypassing all the gold at her feet Hanji went straight for Eren. He was still crouched on the tub’s lid, felt like he’d been there for an age, but the floor was still flooded. It was the only water remaining in the room but like hell was he going to step in it again. Hanji understood. With one massive reach she snagged Eren by his knees and toppled him forward. He fell into her arms and wrapped himself there, clinging like a monkey.

It felt ridiculous… and kind of wonderful. Peeking over her shoulder Eren confirmed that the water was still a good three feet away. He relaxed. The smell of Hanji’s hair loosened his limbs, the scent oddly familiar. Eren couldn’t decide if he was just remembering the moments he’d had like this with his mom or if Hanji had actually done this for him once before. His memories from the other night were pretty fuzzy. Whether it was real or imagined though, it was a nice thing to recall all the same. a

Hanji lazily rubbed his back, turning them both as she looked about the room.

“I can’t believe we just cleaned this place,” she groused.

“Tell me about it.”

Her other hand suddenly paused. Curving downwards to pat at his side Hanji felt the hidden bottle there. Eren carefully tugged his shirt out a bit more and pressed himself against her cheek.

“Later,” he said and Hanji nodded.

“Gold!”

Eren jerked at the cry. He’d been so immersed in Hanji that he’d hardly noticed anyone else. Picking his head up he found every spirit diving at the water, all of them trying to capture floating bits of, yes, what appeared to be gold. Eren’s eyes widened. The only ones not acting like greedy fools were Marco and Jean. They stood together, hands clasped, slowly backing up towards Hanji and Eren. Moblit was nowhere to be seen and with a gulp Eren hoped fervently that the flood hadn’t washed him away. As it was, the four of them formed a protective cluster and a good thing too because—

“STAND ASIDE.”

Irwin’s voice cut through the din; the cries of “gold, gold, gold.” Everyone moved but not of their own violation. They were blown backwards, Eren’s group the only one escaping the violence, clustered as they were at the far end of the room. Everyone else took a tumble. Eren watched horrified as one girl (who’d admittedly collected an impressive selection of gold pieces already) was blasted into a nearby toad. They both went head over feet and her treasure flew into the air. Before it could land though it halted, hovered, and made its way up higher where Irwin still hung. All the other bits of gold followed their example. For a moment the room took their breath away as a fortune soaring through the air, glittering against twice as many prisms. For a second—though only a second—Eren thought the water beautiful.

Then all of the gold disappeared, flooding Irwin’s magical pockets. He retained only one piece and he held it disdainfully between thumb and forefinger.

“I can’t believe Dot actually paid,” he murmured. “Though of course he had to do it in the most obscene way possible.” Irwin’s lips twisted. “And this hardly covers what he owes me. Why, this hardly covers the damages done today…” His eyes swept the room until they landed on Eren. “Wouldn’t you say, Shifter?”

Eren shrugged as best he could in Hanji’s arms. He hoped it didn’t look as weak as it felt.

“You’ve certainly caused quite a mess …”

“You said to clean him. That’s what I did.”

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing, baiting the sorcerer, and Irwin’s eyes definitely flared. However, just then Mike stepped forward. He held a miniscule piece of gold that Irwin had missed.

“Sir.” He said. His voice was too bland to hold real respect yet at the same time couldn’t be accused of anything less. Mike held out the gold until it was snatched from him. “The human did succeed in cleaning Dot,” he continued. “And, as you’ve said, he’s never actually paid before. Surely in light of that the damages might be overlooked—?”

“Silence.”

The command was enacted as Mike’s voice was torn away. He pressed a palm to his throat, as if briefly in pain, but lowered his hand just as quickly. He settled into his familiar, military stance.

“Did I really give you permission to speak that whole time?” Irwin asked. “How foolish of me. Though I’ve never considered you a fool, dear Mike. Perhaps your words have some merit…” He turned to Eren again, eyeing the picture he made with his friends with disdain. With the slow deliberation of one who has already made up his mind Irwin looked between the speck of gold and the boy.

“Perhaps you’ve been... somewhat useful.” He gave a shark’s grin. “I always have a place for the useful amongst my staff, Shifter. Keep that in mind. You may decide that you prefer working for me to that rag-tag collection of humans you call a family.”

Eren opened his mouth just as Hanji’s nails dug into his side. She kept them trimmed short for work but that same work had made her fingers strong. Eren subsided with only a growl.

“Just something to think about,” Irwin said. “No matter. You’ve done your part I suppose. They’re safe for now, so do wipe that horrid expression off your face. And you!”

The last was addressed to the remaining spirits. The majority of them had run off, either when the room had begun to flood or when Dot decided to play hurricane, but there was still a sizable number hanging about; most of them on their butts, many sporting dazed expressions.

“Don’t just stand there, you louts,” Irwin cried. “Back to work!”

They scrambled. What to, Eren wasn’t sure. They’d kicked all the regular guests out once Dot had arrived. Though finding work, of any ridiculous kind, was better than waiting around for Irwin to find it for you. Not that he seemed terribly concerned with that. Patting his pockets—no doubt stuffed despite the lack of a bulge—Irwin nodded once to himself and then disappeared; a faint cloud of smoke that quickly merged with the remaining steam. Gunther and the others started jogging back towards Irwin’s office, like puppets pulled by strings. Mike only stopped for the briefest of seconds to send the four of them a wink. Petra flashed a smile that Eren did his best to return. Then they too were gone, lost amongst the crowd.

Eren watched as the remaining spirits wandered off, one by one. Despite the fear still threading through them he could hear disgruntled comments as they left, growing more pronounced once it was clear that Irwin was truly gone. Much of the displeasure revolved around “stolen gold.”

“Guess they value money more than their hides,” Jean sneered.

Marco shrugged. “You were like that once.”

“Hey! … I mean, yeah, but—”

“So they’ll either stay like that or become like you.” Marco nudged Jean. Really he more slid into him with exhaustion. “I personally hope for the latter,” he yawned.

Jean’s neck started taking on a very red hue. “Shuddup. Dinner?”

“Yes,” two of them said, nearly in unison. Eren gave a quiet nod.

“C’mon, human.”

With Marco and Jean flanked on either side Hanji lead them away from the big tub. She carted Eren, through the water, as he gingerly let his head rest upon her shoulder. He could see the blue below them, muddied by bodies and Dot’s filth. It was so close but Eren still let his wrists go limp and his knees unlock.

He knew she wouldn’t drop him.

Chapter Text

They took the slow route back to their sleeping quarters—up staircases, down long corridors, through doors Eren hadn’t even realized were there. It felt like the four of them were walking for an eternity and for all of it, every last second, a taut part of Eren’s brain insisted that Irwin would appear at any moment, violently demanding to know what they thought they were doing. Of course, nothing like that occurred and as Eren passed more and more spirits he realized that they’d be the least likely to get into trouble, grudge or no grudge.

With the fear from Irwin’s presence dissipating the workers were simply crumbling. They sat and sagged together, much as Eren’s group was doing, moving only because they leaned their shoulders together and counterbalanced one another— all of them and none of them carrying their own weight, another’s weight, and no weight at all. Eren saw six cat spirits curled into one ball. Their eyes were open but they’d lost all ability to focus and Eren thought, “Yeah. I get that.” Some were moving, aimlessly, while others had given up and just plopped their butts down. For those still interested in conversation it was all the same: the ancient sprit who’d come to their bathhouse and the human who’d waited on him. The gold he’d left behind.

Though that wasn’t the only thing Dot had left. Eren gently touched the bottle hidden beneath his shirt.

Overall the atmosphere was clear—nothing else was happening tonight, everyone could feel it in the air. Their guests were gone, Dot was gone, Irwin, if not gone, was at least out of sight, and as Eren turned his head towards a window he found that even the rain had stopped. They sky was calm and he’d been carried now for a long time.

Eren squirmed in Hanji’s arms. “I can walk you know,” he muttered. ‘Now that there’s no water,’ went unsaid. But to his surprise, when Eren unlocked his legs from Hanji’s waist they just dangled there, his upper body still held tight in her arms. After a lurch of a second he quickly scrambled back up so as not to strangle himself… or look like a total dork. Jean snickered even as Hanji made things worse by patting his head.

“C’mon, Hanji. Put me down.”

“Nah,” she said. “You’re warm,” and she gave him an enormous squeeze. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

“Jeez, you’re strong! You—” Eren went quiet thinking about just how strong Hanji seemed; the muscles standing out along her arms and the broadness of her shoulders. She’d seemed like just a big girl but…

Mid stride Eren gave her a hug, only this time he paid attention to what he was feeling, or rather not feeling: there was no softness of breasts there (making Eren blush; thinking of his mother, thinking of how Mikasa’s body had started feeling just the tinniest bit different the last time they’d tumbled). There were no lines from a bra either. Eren pulled back until he was facing Hanji, balanced on her hips and his hands gripping her shoulders. She looked back placidly. Eren chewed at his lower lip until Marco piped up with,

“She is a girl.”

“Just biologically a guy,” Jean added.

“My corporeal existence was male,” Hanji confirmed. “This time around I felt like a female. Perks of dying, yeah? Total redo.” All at once Hanji went the color of a blank sheet of paper and her smile froze. “Is that—” She cleared her throat. “Are you okay with that, human?”

Eren hesitated. Then,

“If I say ‘yes’ will you tell me what you were before you died?”

With a violence that nearly threw him off her Hanji tilted her head back and screamed laughter at the ceiling. Eren hung on for dear life.

“No offense, man” Jean said when she’d calmed a little. “But I wasn’t expecting you to be so…”

“Blasé about it?” Marco suggested. He too eyed Eren wearily.

“Yeah. That.”

Eren just shrugged in response, his left shoulder nearly hitting Hanji’s chin. “Oops, sorry. I guess maybe I wouldn’t have been so… um… blasé, if I wasn’t me?” He scrunched up his nose. “That doesn’t make sense. I just mean that my dad’s a doctor, you know?”

They hadn’t known and it occurred to Eren how little he’d actually said about his family. Hanji and the others, they kept fighting for him but it wasn’t like they had any real idea of what they were fighting for. They just knew that these humans were important to Eren… and that was apparently enough. More than enough. The thought made something twist painfully within his stomach.

“My dad’s a doctor,” Eren repeated. “He… he was always a doctor I guess. He learned a lot from my grandma before going off to school.” Eren quickly shook his head, anticipating Hanji’s question. “No, I didn’t know her. She died a long time before I was born. I didn’t know anyone on my mom’s side either. It was just the three of us and the village… until Mikasa came along.” He swallowed. “Anyway, Dad took me on his rounds sometimes. I’d take my own bike, or sometimes just sit on the handlebars of his. You know, checking in on those with the flu, or cuts that needed stitching. Nothing dangerous ever happened around there. But there was Mr. Wattkins—not that he was dangerous! Just sorta grouchy. Everyone knew everyone at home but he was always keeping to himself… I used to steal his mail and hide it in the Rilen’s—a whole field over—just so he’d have to come out or they’d have to go to him. It seemed fun at the time…”

Not anymore of course. Now it just seemed stupid and despite the understanding looks, Eren determinedly looked over Hanji’s shoulder, eyes trained on the latest corridor.

“So Mr. Wattkins didn’t like me. No shit, but it’s not like we actually knew each other or anything. I mean seriously. We were both just… there. Then I went with my dad one winter to drop off an antibiotic but Mr. Wattkins started complaining about some sickness he was feeling so Dad checked him out and I stayed in the living room—I actually stayed! The whole fifteen minutes I didn’t touch a thing and then there was this crash…” Eren trailed off; took a few deep breaths. “Mr. Wattkins started screaming, at Dad I think, not really sure what language it was. Then Dad’s pulling me out the door and Mr. Wattkin’s is still shrieking—I remember thinking that afterwards, that his voice got really high.” Eren hunched in against Hanji. “Dad admitted later that he was pregnant. Made me promise to never, ever tell the rest of the village. He… doesn’t make me promise things often. So yeah. I didn’t. Tell that is.”

Hanji’s hand returned to his back. “That must have been a bit of a shock.”

“No… yeah? I don’t know. Hannes, he used to mention guys and girls like that a lot, so it wasn’t a total surprise or anything. And, you know, I read. I’m not stupid. I just didn’t expect…”

Eren felt a gentle flick against his shoulders. “For you to discover it so close to home?”

“Maybe.”

“Hannes, was he an army guy?” Marco asked.

“Yep. Way after you though.”

Marco nodded. “There were a lot of people struggling with gender in the army. Or, ‘struggling’ isn’t the right word. A lot of girls dressed like guys because they thought it would get them more respect, or something, and a lot of guys took the war as a fresh start, entering themselves as women. I had a lot of friends who didn’t identify as anything at all.” A wistful swept Marco’s lips.

“What about Mr. Wattkins though?” Jean piped up. “Did he keep the child?”

“I don’t know. He moved away a few weeks later and no one was close enough to keep in contact.” Eren scowled. “What I wanna know is who’d do… you know, do that with a guy like him. Grouchy old ass—ow!” He cringed at the slap Hanji landed against his head.

“Rude, human.”

“It’s true! He chucked compost at me once! Mom wouldn’t let me back into the house I smelled so bad.”

“Ten bucks said he deserved it,” Jean said to Marco.

“No way I’m betting against that.”

“Hey!”

Their tet-a-tet was cut short as Hanji raised her hand for silence. They’d (finally) entered one of the many sleeping quarters and some of the other spirits had already curled up to rest. They snuck through the room where Hanji had found Eren his uniform—now feeling damp and positively filthy—as well as through the room where they’d slept the night before. Eren looked longingly at his mat, keeping his eyes fixed on the comfort even as they passed out of the building and onto a porch. He only turned when Hanji set him back on his feet and a voice behind him said, “Yo.”

It was Connie. He leaned against the railing, one hand cradling a bit of food he was munching, the other keeping a bag out of Sasha’s reach. She was wrapped around him, an endless stream of, “C’mon, Connie, one more please one more,” spilling out of her mouth. But Connie just grinned and tossed the bag to Jean.

“You’ve had yours, Sasha—oh. Hey there, uh… what was your name again?”

“Human!” Sasha bound forward sounding scarily like Hanji. “Managed to get a job then, huh? You…” Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “Hey. You weren’t the one who tucked us in, were you?”

“Um…” Thank god for the continued darkness. Eren’s face went up in flames as he remembered the blankets he’d left around their shoulders. Luckily, Marco’s arm came up around his own shoulders in an echo; a welcome distraction.

“What do you mean ‘got a job’?” He asked. “Our human here is the one who served that river spirit tonight.”

Connie and Sasha’s mouths dropped together and that was it—the conversation got going. Jean piped up that, despite Eren’s order, he’d never actually made it down to the boiler room—distracted first by a hysterical spirit, then by Irwin’s passing, making his way to the entrance to spy on their guest (of course, those two things weren’t necessarily separate events…) What all this meant was that no one had come to warn the duo about the drama going on upstairs. All Sasha knew was that one minute she was diverting water to a couple hundred tubs—a normal night really, even a little slow one, Connie was at her back; keeping a steady flow of coal going, directing the sootballs; everything working as smoothly as labor run by two crazies and a collection of magical creatures could go… then nothing. Absolutely nothing. For the first time since Sasha had started at the bathhouse no one was asking her for water.

“It was wonderful,” she sighed. Next to her Connie snorted.

“Don’t lie. You panicked.”

The six of them had moved since their explanations had begun. Connie’s bag was filled with pork buns, somehow still hot despite the night air that had cooled dramatically from all the rain. They took their edible treasures to the porch’s edge, sitting and dangling their legs between the rungs. Mouth poised to take a bite, Eren froze when he got a look at the amount of water beneath them.

That storm had indeed been magical. Before there had only been the river beneath the bridge and the lake that separated Eren from the rest of the world, now water flowed from the edge of the bathhouse’s island all the way to the forest off in the distance. The length wasn’t insurmountable, a strong swimmer could make it, easily, but seeing such an addition after the day he’d had forced Eren’s head to lie wearily against a post.

He was literally surrounded by water. Eren wondered if Irwin had done that on purpose.

“It looks so much like the sea,” he whispered. No one heard him.

Sasha went on with her story, accompanied by a whole collection of erratic (and often crude) hand gestures. She had not panicked, you dickhead. She had calmly and quite professionally analyzed the situation… and decided that this was so not her problem. Sasha went upstairs (a rarity no one got to see, enthralled as they were with the chaos elsewhere) and Connie was left to man the boiler.

“Pretty much my worst nightmare,” he grumbled. “I’m the organizer, let’s be real. I manage soot, materials, and Sasha.”

“You do not manage me!”

“Do so. But I’m not a boiler man in the point. All those knobs and dials,” Connie shook like the thought actually pained him. “And isn’t it just my luck. Things go dead quiet for—what? Twenty minutes? At least! Then, the SECOND Sasha leaves wouldn’t you know. Whistles start going off and a damn token drops down from the ceiling. I didn’t know what to do with it! So I…might have…well…”

“You did,” Hanji said, totally deadpanned. She stuffed a whole bun in her mouth. “You sent us way too much water. Like, all the water.”

“Right. Sorry.”

They didn’t know, did they? Sasha and Connie. Yeah… they’d only seen Eren in the heat of the boiler room, never reacting to water’s coolness. Hanji, Jean, Marco… they weren’t saying anything either, nothing about the repercussions that water had beyond one flooded room. Eren smiled a little. That loyalty was amazing really, but he also didn’t want his friends feeling any worse than they already did. Connie looked glum, somewhat obviously, but even Sasha was picking at the grease embedded in her nails, an aura of self-criticism pouring off her frame. Hardly thinking, Eren split the bun he’d yet to touch and offered her half.

Sasha took it slowly, reverently, with a light not unlike worship in her eyes. “I knew there was a reason we kept you around,” she whispered.

“You’re the one who wouldn’t give him a job!” Connie called from down the line.

“I have no recollection of that. At all,” and Sasha set herself on the pork bun with feral intensity.

They settled into a silence broken only by their swallows, sighs, and increasingly frequent yawns.

“We should get to bed,” Marco said. “It’s not often that Irwin keeps the sky dark after the bathhouse closes. Take advantage of it while we can, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jean agreed. His head had migrated to Marco’s bad shoulder, his fingers stroking along Marco’s upper thigh.

“What about Corporal?”

Eren’s question wan an unwanted intrusion on their peace. Hanji fiddled with her shirttail. “I haven’t seen him since he brought you down yesterday,” she admitted.

“He passed through the boiler room” Sasha said, mouth crammed full. “A while ago. Said he had to meet with someone.”

“Who?” Eren pressed.

“Don’t know. Sorry.”

Eren worried his own shirt, unconsciously mimicking Hanji. He’d met so many people today, dealt with so much, it had hardly occurred to him to worry about Corporal on top of it all. Except, of course, when he was drowning and wanted Corporal to save him. That was just great. Eren winced.

“Should he have come back by now? How do we know he’s okay?”

Jean leaned back to get a look at Eren. “You worry too much, kid. That guy can take care of himself.”

Eren couldn’t even dredge up the usual annoyance at that term—Corporal’s term—spilling out of Jean’s mouth. He just felt vaguely sick.

Hanji swallowed at his expression. “We could go looking for him…” she suggested, quite reluctantly it seemed. Jean tried valiantly to pick his jaw up from the floor.

“You’re insane. I’m not—” he dropped his voice. “I’m not sneaking out. Hell no, not after what we went through today. Kid, c’mon. Not to be an insensitive hard-ass but do you really want to test the Big Guy’s generosity right now?” Jean’s gaze flickered from here to there. “Because he will find out about it.”

“Jean’s right,” Marco said. “Besides, where would we begin looking?”

“Anywhere!”

But Marco was already shaking his head.

“Corporal works for Irwin… whether he wants to or not.” This last part was breathed out, carried away on the breeze. “And no one keeps their business closer to their chest than Irwin. Corporal may not cast magic himself but he can piggyback off of Irwin’s—invisibility, movement on and off the island, speed… we’d never stand a chance, not unless Corporal wanted to be found.”

Eren opened his mouth to retort that of course Corporal wanted to be found when all their attention was drawn to Connie. He’d begun giggling madly into his arm.

“You want to sneak out—after today’s clusterfuck no less—to track down Irwin’s right hand man?” He looked not at Eren but at Hanji. “Jean’s right. You are nuts.”

Marco’s lips twitched. “Agreed. Positively nutty.”

To Eren surprise, Hanji crossed her arms and scowled dramatically. “Oh yeah,” she said. “Real nice. Like I’ve never heard that one before.”

Sasha had started snickering along with Connie, their voices rising quickly.

“What?” Eren demanded. “What?”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t—” Hanji leaned desperately across Eren to try and cover Sasha’s mouth but it did no good.

“Hanji used to be a squirrel!” She shrieked.

Dead. Silence.

“What.” Eren said again.

“Whaaaaaah,” Hanji beat her hands across Sasha’s back who was still choking with laughter, trying to pull away. “I didn’t want him to know yet! You’ve ruined the game,” Hanji pouted. Connie and Sasha just laughed all the harder.

“What.” Eren looked to Jean. “What… you’re… You’re fucking with me.”

“No we’re not,” Marco said. He remained the calmest of the lot. “Honestly. It’s not quite as uncommon as you’d think. Lots of dogs and cats discover human forms after death—don’t ask me how or why; something about them being pets? I don’t know—but it does happen. They’re not the same as the cat and toad spirits, different species I guess you could say, but every once in a blue moon, yes, an animal gains a fully human form in the afterlife.” Marco bit his lower lip. “We just tease Hanji a bit (“A bit?!” She yelled) because it is kind of rare and uh…”

Jean snickered.

“Whaaaat?” Eren urged.

Marco shrugged. “It’s just that we’ve never met another squirrel before.”

“We’re out there.” Hanji sniffed. Then she smiled down at Eren, faintly vibrating with energy. Eren blinked up at her.

“Squirrel?” He asked.

“Yep.”

“…I can kinda see that. Shit.”

Her smile split into a grin. “I lived in this old woman’s tree while alive and she fed me nuts every morning. Really great nuts! I loved her. But then she accidentally backed over me with her car. No hard feelings.”

“But,” Eren scrubbed a hand over his eyes. It was far, far too late for this. Or too early. Or something. “But didn’t you say before that you were a guy…?”

“No. I said I was male. Horny male squirrel who didn’t live very long. Not gonna lie, I didn’t’ think much about sex and gender as a squirrel—other than regular squirrel sex, you know?—but then I get this body and I’m floundering on two legs and I’m learning everything I can because having a human body is just so great… and then one day I realized I was a girl. A spirit-human girl! Awesome, huh?”

Jean rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure ‘awesome’ is the word he’s looking for, Hanji.”

That was at least partly true. Eren didn’t know what word he wanted. Hanji used to be a squirrel and that made fare more sense than Eren was willing to admit to, at least right now. That sort of shit was for the mornings. With that decided Eren gave Hanji’s hand a squeeze—which she kissed enthusiastically—and he downed the rest of his pork bun. The sooner her finished eating the sooner he could sleep, and that sounded just lovely right about now.

The last piece went down rough though and Eren found himself looking around for something to drink. Connie hadn’t brought anything with him (or Sasha had nicked it) but the search reminded Eren of something else.

“Oh yeah,” he said and pulled the wine bottle from beneath his shirt. Everyone leaned forward.

“What’s that?” Jean asked.

Hanji shrugged. “Something the river spirit gave him, right?”

“Yeah.” Eren pulled out the cork and tentatively tipped the bottle for a sip.

“—no!” Sasha cried but it came too late.

The wine he’d tried before had burned but this stuff was like acid. It flared along Eren’s organs and skin, spreading from the roots of his hair to the edge of his toenails seemingly in an instant. Then the fire converged in Eren’s chest, right around where Irwin had a tether around his heart—that sickening pulse beat, beat, beating. The two feelings warred for a moment and then seemed to burn themselves out. Or rather, the fire disappeared and Irwin’s hold dimmed back down to a faint, almost subconscious action; like breathing or blinking. In a minute Eren would be able to forget it—a sure sign that Irwin was still, thankfully, keeping his distance—but for now his body curled under the double onslaught. It hurt.

“That’s medicine, that’s medicine!” Sasha was yelling. “Are you sick, dumbass? Don’t drink that now!”

“Medicine?” Eren coughed.

Jean frowned, trying to get a look at the bottle himself. “How the hell do you know that, Sasha?”

Connie answered for her. “You serious? You think there’s anything edible in this or the human world that she doesn’t know about?”

“…True.”

Sasha hummed in agreement. She ran two fingers down the bottle’s length, then found the cork Eren had dropped and carefully replaced it. She handed it back.

“It’s powerful,” Sasha said simply. “Rare too. Keep it safe.”

Scooting forward Marco nodded. His serious expression, combined with the shadows playing along his scars gave him an almost ghoulish look. “Listen to Sasha,” he said as she preened. “Something like that? The river spirit must have given it to you for a reason.”

“Yeah well, you didn’t meet the guy…” Nevertheless, Eren tucked the bottle safely back beneath his shirt, coughing all the while.

“Bed,” Hanji said decisively and they all rose.

By this time the majority of the spirits had laid down to sleep and the six snuck in as quietly as they’d gone out. Wordlessly they said their goodbyes, Marco and Jean heading somewhere together, Sasha and Connie moving hand-in-hand back to the boiler room. Eren slipped into a clean uniform that Hanji had managed to find—ridiculously grateful now that he had fully dry cloth against his skin—and the two of them collapsed onto their mats.

“Night, human,” she said. Hanji’s eyes were already slipping shut and Eren wasn’t far behind at all.

“Night,” he said and Eren’s last thought (a prayer really) was that maybe, just this once, he wouldn’t dream.

Too often prayers go unanswered.

***

Nearly an hour later and many stories below a forgotten worker awakened as everyone else slept. He sat up with a groan.

“My head…” Moblit groaned.

Marco’s earlier worries about Moblit being blown away by Dot’s magic were well founded. During the final effort to rid the spirit of his accumulated filth Moblit had indeed gone flying, the cascade of water and trash tossing him into a far, isolated corner. The violence of the act had knocked out more than one spirit, not least of all the bathhouse’s tinniest employee. For the remainder of the work-day Moblit had lain unconscious under nearly three feet of water. In many ways he was lucky though; lucky he was a frog. Were it not for his unique ability to breathe through his skin he would have surely perished—and no one knew what happened when spirits died. No one wanted to find out.

Thus it was with a healthy dose of gratitude that Moblit stumbled to his feet and made his way across the now dry floor. A bit of medicine and a long night’s sleep would do him a world of good.

“Ah, ah,” came a voice.

Moblit jumped.

“H-hey,” he croaked. “You’re not supposed to be in here. The bathhouse is closed!”

Out of the darkness came a figure dressed all in black, minus the circle of white that made up his face. Marco cringed away from the odd markings stretching along its cheeks and the soft, almost hypnotic voice. He backed up two steps, then three, then four.

“I told you, y-you need to leave.” The spirit only replied with a repeated, ‘ah’ noise. “Can’t you talk?” Moblit stuttered. “What are you?”

Instead of answering the thing drew black arms out of its black body and from the arms he produced a book. Heavily bound and bearing gold trim, the pages fell open with an ominous creak; like the opening of a cage. Then, as if water were boiling the papers rustled and a yellow mound began to grow atop them. It sparkled temptingly in the darkness.

Moblit gapped. “You can make gold?”

“Ah, ah.” It seemed to be an agreement. The gold nuggets, varying in size from pebbles to skipping stones amounted so quickly they began spilling off the edges of the book. The sound of their falls masked the spirit’s steps. Moblit was so engrossed he hardly noticed the thing approaching, coming out of the tub, inching closer.

“Gold,” he murmured. “You—I need to get Irwin. I have to tell the boss. Please just wait one moment, I’ll…”

Moblit turned but in that moment something—something like tendrils—wrapped themselves around his middle. He didn’t even have a chance to croak in fright. Moblit simply felt himself being lifted up and then descending with frightening speed.

‘I should have gotten the human,’ was his last, illogical thought. ‘Not Irwin. That human boy would have helped me—’

Then, darkness.

Chapter Text

Eren was back in the flowers and sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. This time the blossoms did not drip; did not dissolve into water at his touch— but they did cut. Their beauty was stunning and every time Eren’s arms or legs brushed those gorgeous petals they sliced into his skin. He was covered in blood, nearly as wet as if he’d been dumped into the sea. Eren kept running.

Through the endless flowers, over the fields—with grass as sharp as butcher blades—all the way down to the barn with its ceaseless moans. This time the doors were open and Eren charged through.

“Mom!” He called, his voiced pitched far off like it sometimes is in dreams. “Dad! Mikasa!” Eren fumbled desperately at his shirt. Blood coated his hands and soaked through his clothes, making everything slippery, intangible. Finally he pulled a small bottle out from the elastic of his pants, leaving red fingerprints scattered behind. Eren held it out as an offering.

“The river spirit gave it to me.” His voice still sounded hollow, almost not his own. “Maybe if you drink it you’ll change back!”

Eren couldn’t find them though. Everything within the barn was a tangled, dark mess. He could see titans shifting within the shadows—the glint of an eye, the flash of white teeth—and he could hear their vicious groans…but nothing specific; not his family. Eren dragged himself forward and behind him, beyond the barn’s doors, the sun began to dim. Soon there was darkness both in front of Eren and behind.

“Mom?” He whispered.

“You can’t help them.”

Out of the shadows came something human—or at least something spirit. Her white dress and golden hair shown amongst the blackness.

“Krista?” Eren asked.

“You can’t help them,” she repeated. “Not yet.” Behind her Bertolt, Reiner, and Ymir materialized. They also wore white but it was a shirt and tunic combination that appeared remarkably plain next to Krista’s ruffles. She looked decadent in comparison. Krista looked like a queen.

“Help me,” Eren begged her but the four of them only stared. “Help me!”

“You can’t help them.”

“Stop saying that!” Eren screamed. He threw the bottle and it tore right through her, truly ghost-like. None of them blinked at the assault.

“Yet,” they all intoned.

Eren moved ever further, their clothes now acting as his only illumination. He could not longer see the titans’ movements but their hunger was as loud as ever. He stopped just short of his friends as a particularly close growl sounded, a gust of hot, stinking breath breaking over them like a wave. Eren didn’t have the Corporal’s swords, or Dot’s medicine now but at least he wasn’t alone. He took a very deep breath and held out a bloodied hand.

“You need to get away from there,” he said. Eren offered his hand to any of them that would take it. “There are titans right behind you, Krista!”

“Better,” she said and now there was a smile. It made her eyes look a little less dead. “But that’s not my name, Eren.”

He didn’t question how she knew his. “Historia,” he tried.

“Better still.” Historia stepped forward and her three friends stepped with her. They weren’t close enough yet though and suddenly Eren found that he couldn’t move. He tried to gesture them further, towards him, just another few feet.

“We need to leave,” he insisted.

“But what about your family?” It was Ymir and Eren’s head snapped up to look. Her expression was as blank as Bertolt and Reiner’s. “Are you giving up on them?”

“No!”

“You’re running away.”

“I’m not.” Eren stomped his foot and reached his arm as far as it would go.

“You’re not?”

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Dammit, Ymir, you guys are family too!”

She smiled at him then, or smirked rather. It was a tight twisting of the lips softened only by her gaze. Reiner and Bertolt smiled too.

“Better,” Historia said again and she stepped forward.

They were close enough to touch now and Eren eagerly grabbed at her with both hands. He bloodied her white dress irreparably but he nearly wept at how solid she felt. The groans weren’t as loud now. Eren thought he detected the faintest bit of light behind him: the sun beginning to rise.

“Let’s go,” he said but Reiner shook his head.

“We can’t leave, Eren.”

“Sorry, Eren.” That was Bertolt. “We belong here.”

“What do you mean you belong here?” Eren’s voice was rising again, scouring at his throat. He pushed past the pain to shriek in their faces. “What the fuck does that even mean, Bertolt? Don’t be fucking stupid, let’s leave! Let’s leave right now!”

Historia silenced him by raising one hand to touch his cheek, standing nearly on tiptoe to reach. “This is where titans belong, Eren. Didn’t you know? And I stay with them,” she gestured to her friends.

“But they’re not titans,” Eren insisted. Historia only smiled.

“Maybe we could leave,” she said. “With some help—” her thumb stroked along his skin and Eren felt the cold press of a ring. “But I’m afraid it’s time for you to wake up.”

Eren startled. “What?”

Suddenly Historia’s expression turned hard as ice. She drew her hand back with inhuman speed and brought it down hard across Eren’s cheek. He felt the skin break overtop the residual coolness she’d left behind, the blood trickling down to mix with the rest on his clothing.

“I said, wake up WAKE UP—”

And Eren awoke.

***

Eren’s return to reality wasn’t nearly as violent as one might expect. Rather than throwing himself into a sitting position or letting out a frightened yell, Eren simply froze. Completely still for five minutes… then ten… he immersed himself in the silence around him, listening furiously for anything like a moan, or a girl’s voice, or the flutter of sharp grass. Nothing. Slowly, Eren drew his hand up from where it had been resting on his thigh and placed it an inch from his nose. Then he opened his eyes.

No blood. Eren let out a shaky laugh.

It was only when he rolled onto his left side that Eren let out a yelp. Instinctually he drew his hand up to his cheek… and his fingers came away with just the tinniest touch of blood. Breath stilling Eren crawled through his blankets to the porch’s screen, the sun shining through it acting as a mirror. It really was a gorgeous day.

And Eren had a thin gash along his left cheek.

“How did that happen?” he asked the silent room.

Stupid, stupid question. He knew. He remembered Historia—Krista—slapping him clear as day. But that had been a dream… she’d even told him to wake up. Though she’d also said that Ymir and the others belonged with the titans which, what? Eren thumped his head lightly against the glass.

“Let’s chalk that up to magic then, okay?” He said to himself, rocking a bit. “That was a dream. It also not a dream because fuuuuuuck my cheek hurts. Okay. That makes total sense. Sure. Ymir and Bertolt and Reiner and… titans? Fine. Also makes sense. No it actually doesn’t but whatever I can’t even begin to—fuck. Oh, oh yeah. And Hanji used to be a squirrel. Awesome. And I helped a river spirit and he gave me medicine and Irwin is still an insane, fucked-up bastard and my family’s still trapped out there and WHERE EXACTLY IS EVERYONE?”

Eren’s shout echoed through the silent room for it was, as he’d observed, entirely empty. The sun was high up in the cloudless sky, the remnants of last night’s storm entirely gone, so by all logic (ha) everyone else should be fast asleep. Instead the dormitory was oppressive in its bareness. It was probably just his dream sticking with him but the creaking of floorboards without feet atop them sent a chill down Eren’s spine.

“I need some air,” he muttered and stepped outside.

Luckily memories of last night’s dinner returned and Eren was prepared for the view this time. Water still swept the entirety of the space around him, what was now literally their island. The next closest bit of land was the forest and, beyond that, the real world.

Or maybe that wasn’t quite the right name. Eren still couldn’t get a handle on all the bathhouse’s oddities… but that didn’t make them feel less real. The cut on his cheek certainly stung enough. Suddenly suspicious Eren lifted up a foot, wondering if he’d actually slept walked to the barn or something.

Nope. The soles of his feet were clean, washed thoroughly before heading into bed—Hanji’s orders.

“Where the hell is she anyway?”

Eren grumbled but he was still moving at a glacial pace, stretching luxuriously and allowing those last bits of his messed-up dream to be swept away by the sun. Arms up above his head Eren settled them down over the porch railing, daring to lean over and get a closer look at the water.

“It really is just like the sea,” he murmured. “Irwin you little shit.”

In the corner of his eye Eren could just make out the barn where his family was kept though he deliberately, and somewhat guiltily, looked away. Back towards the water actually, and wasn’t that fucked up? It’s not like he could do much of anything though. Not unless… he managed to find Corporal.

Eren jerked back up, suddenly blushing against the breeze. That felt wrong somehow and Eren’s cheek twinged in agreement. Yes, he should find Corporal, but not to ask him about his family or any other favor. Not yet anyway. He needed to make sure his friend was okay first.

The cut faded to a manageable ache. Eren smiled.

“Right. New day, new list: find Corporal, find Hanji, find everyone else, save family, kick Irwin’s ass, find a way ho—oh.”

Eren had been so focused on avoiding looking at the barn that he’d simply assumed those were clouds over there. But no… it was smoke, billowing forcefully out of a tube that Eren recognized as connecting to the boiler room. Based on the amount pouring into the air Sasha must have been working overtime, which made about as much sense as anything else this morning.

Eren opened his mouth. Now that he’d recognized what it was he could almost taste the smoke on the air. “It’s morning,” he said, if only to confirm it. “The bathhouse shouldn’t be open…”

Something like lead settled into Eren’s stomach. He took off running.

He knew his way down to the lower levels well by now. Eren toyed briefly with the idea of heading all the way to the ground floor—popping into the boiler room, seeing what Sasha and Connie had to say—but if their version of last’s events were anything to go by it didn’t seem like they were kept in the loop much. At the last second Eren took a right instead of a left and flew into a nearby elevator instead. He cranked the latch, hoping that if there was actually work going on everyone would be somewhere on the main floor.

Indeed, as the elevator descended Eren began to hear actual voices: first a gentle murmur, then a roar that blew over him as the doors opened. Eren gapped at the mess he emerged into. Spirits were working alright, but their movements had none of the controlled grace he’d gotten used to seeing late at night. Now, with sunlight streaming through the windows, workers threw themselves into their tasks with abandon, appearing almost manic in their enthusiasm. It was chaos again but this time it seemed born of anticipation rather than fear. Eren spotted a pair of toads just a few feet away, seemingly oblivious to presence. They were tugging on a plate of meat and arguing over who would be giving it to “the honored guest,” even though one toad was dressed in a uniform identical to Eren’s, stating clearly that he wasn’t one of the cooks. Even so, he was the one who managed to yank the plate out of the other’s slimy hands and he trotted away happily. The other was left pulling at his warts.

“What guest?” Eren asked.

The toad ignored him. Eren shot out a hand as he passed. “Hey! What’s going on?”

“Shove off, human!” And that was apparently that. Eren threw a rude gesture at his retreating back.

“Human!”

At first Eren thought it was the toad again and he quickly lowered his hand. Peeking through the crowd though… he didn’t seem to be coming back. Eren only turned towards a staircase when he heard the shout again.

There was Hanji. She charged up the steps and flung her body halfway over the top of the banister, grinning up at Eren on the landing. A mass of spirits continued to push past them in a frenzy of activity.

“There’s this super rich guest—” Hanji said at the exact same time Eren went, “What the hell is going on?”

They both went silent.

“Why didn’t you wake me—?”/ “Guest, human, it’s not complicated—”

Silence.

“You first,” Eren growled.

“Right. So a few hours ago yeah, Delilah wakes me up, she’s one of the nymphs okay, good friend, real nice. Anyway, she’s going on about this super rich client that somehow got into the bathhouse, no one knows what that’s about, but he’s all kinds of rich so it doesn’t really matter. Like, really rich. Apparently he can make gold. I’ve never heard of anyone doing that—not even Irwin!” A pained expression flit across Hanji’s face and she dropped her voice. She leaned upwards and Eren leaned further over the handrail. Now they were nearly bumping noses. “Rich, okay? So at that point everyone’s scrambling downstairs to start in on food and baths and just everything because he’s apparently giving it out by the handful, and I did try to wake you, I swear! But you were totally dead to the world. Looked like you were having a pretty intense dream there and oh wow, what happened to your cheek?”

Eren’s hand flew up to the cut. He’d hardly noticed it after his decision to find Corporal but now it flared painfully.

“Nothing. Just—gold? This guy can make gold?”

“Yep. Saw him do it myself.”

“But…” Eren looked around at all the spirits—tripping over themselves to get some of that gold—and then he looked back at Hanji’s vibrating frame. He bit his lip, suddenly afraid of offending her. “It’s just… I didn’t think you really went in for this sort of thing…”

“The gold?” Hanji blinked. “Oh no! I haven’t taken any. Don’t care one wit about that. But isn’t it cool? I just like that he can do it, you know? And all these crazies,” Hanji cast a mocking eye on the very spirits that Eren had been cringing at a moment before. “They make for some really excellent entertainment.”

Eren grinned. “You’re terrible. You’d make a great human being.”

Hanji clutched at his hands, dangling in the open air over the stairwell. “And you’re wonderful. Now, want to help me find Marco? Last I spotted him he was tearing after Jean. Seems our friend has a touch of the gold fever after all.” Hanji chuckled a bit, then sobered. “Can’t say I completely blame him. It’s not like we get paid a lot here, you know? And Jean wants to get a place for himself and Marco someday, provided…”

Provided any of them got out from under Irwin’s thumb. Eren nodded. Speaking of,

“What about him then?” Eren’s last nod jerked up at the ceiling. Surely Irwin had heard about all this by now. Mr. I-Know-Everything-That-Goes-On-In-My-Bathhouse; Mr. Avarice. No way was he still tucked away upstairs when there was a guest who could make gold. No fucking way.

After a second’s hesitation Hanji mounted the last few steps and came to stand directly behind Eren. She angled their bodies away from the passerby and stuck their heads together. “Alright. Honesty Hour. I love watching these toads scramble as much as anyone but frankly, human, I’ve got a bad feeling about all this. Irwin hasn’t been seen yet. Not once.”

“What?”

“Mm hmm. Weird, yeah? And not in a good way.” Hanji twirled her fingers to indicate all the spirits below them. “There’s a lot of talk as you’d imagine. Some are saying it’s magical exhaustion—yeah, that’s a thing. I don’t know a whole lot but after all the casting he did last night? Guy’s gotta be tired. Might have been enough to keep him knocked out, even through something like this. Plus there are rumors that not all that magic is strictly Irwin’s.”

“Not…?” Eren crossed his arms. “Hanji, I’m damn sure he’s the one whose been putting me in body binds these last few days.”

“No, no. Yes he’s the one casting but some say the magic may not all belong to him, that it’s not innate. Some sorcerers draw power from other objects, or even other beings.” Hanji waved a hand at Eren’s horrified expression. “Relax! I’m telling you, they’re just rumors. Stupid rumors. What the hell do toads know about magic anyway? No,” Hanji ceased her waving and slung her arm over Eren’s shoulders. The close proximity allowed her speak against his ear. “My thinking is he’s out.”

“Out?”

“Yep.”

“Out where?”

“That’s the question.”

Eren gnawed at his lower lip. “Corporal’s been out somewhere too…”

“And I’m just cynical enough to think those most be related.”

“Yeah,” Eren agreed. “Yeah.”

The lead was returning to his stomach only now it was moving, churning, tiny leaden balls knocking together, or a pile of corrosive sand pooling in on itself. The more Eren thought about Corporal being gone and Irwin being gone and the possibility of them being gone together… the more he wanted to barf. Hanji sighed, following along with Eren’s increasingly depressed expressions.

“Honestly, human, I’m not liking this one bit. A spirit that makes gold? That’s real powerful stuff. And how did he get into the bathhouse? I can’t think of a way, not unless someone let him in.”

Eren felt a twinge of source-less panic before Hanji distracted him, shaking him by the shoulders.

“But!” She cried. “Until we know for sure that this is all doom and gloom I’m gonna enjoy it. What about you, human? Gonna come with me and get some gold?”

“I thought you didn’t want gold.”

“I don’t, but I thought I’d get some for Connie and Sasha. I’m 99.9% sure that unless they’ve got inside information neither of them were expecting to kick-start the boilers this morning… and Sasha at least is going to be pissed. Something shiny might make her feel better.”

“Not unless things are even weirder here than I imagined and you can actually eat gold.”

“…Fair enough. Maybe I’ll get her bread instead. What about you then?” Hanji side-eyed him just a little. “Interested in making a buck?”

“Fuck no.”

It came out a little too quickly but all Eren could picture was his dad: packing up the car, loudly proclaiming that, yes, they needed to move, for their finances of course, spouting on and on about the greater funds they’d make in this new town. It still made Eren’s hands shake and if his dad wasn’t currently being held captive by an insane sorcerer Eren would have probably claimed to hate him or something. Still. Gold? No thanks.

“Suit yourself,” Hanji said easily. “Coming anyway?”

Eren’s cheek flared as he ran a hand over his face. “No. I need to find Corporal. No chance you’ve seen him since last night?”

“Nope, sorry. Good luck with finding that one and don’t do anything stupid, like get yourself killed! You’re my favorite human I know.”

“I’m the only human you know.”

Hanji bent to kiss Eren’s cheek with a giggle. “Aw—whatever! I’ll see ya. Keep safe, yeah?”

“Yeah… hey, Hanji?”

She was already halfway back down the steps but pivoted quickly. Eren swallowed.

“You haven’t seen Hist—that is, Krista around have you?”

“Krista?”

“Or Reiner, Bertolt, Ymir… any of them.” Eren rubbed the back of his neck, feeling oddly as if he was doing something wrong; telling a little white lie maybe. “I was just wondering,” he said, anticipating Hanji’s question and really, really wanting to avoid it. Magic or no magic, Eren wasn’t about to admit to a dream like that. It was a little too weird, even for his tastes.

“No.” Hanji said. She stared at him and then made her way slowly back up the steps. “Why?”

“I told you, just wonde—”

“Don’t lie to me, human.”

Ah. There it was. The feeling of guilt had just come a bit early. Eren ducked his head but then just as quickly threw it back up, pointing an accusing finger at Hanji.

“You’re one to talk about lying,” he hissed. “What was all that yesterday while cleaning the floor? You said they were involved somehow and that you’d tell me about it. You didn’t!”

“Yes, well, things got a little crazy around here didn’t they?” Hanji sniped back. “When was I supposed to tell you this, huh? While we were catering to a river spirit?” She tossed her hair and crossed her arms. “Besides, I’m not saying a word until you tell me why you want to see Krista.”

“Hanji!”

She drew her fingers exaggeratedly across her lips; zipper zipped shut. Eren ground his teeth as they stood in silence for a good two minutes.

“I had a dream,” he finally bit out.

Hanji’s mouth popped back open. “Dream?”

“It was about…” They came together again, chest to chest. “About visiting my family, okay? Not normal visiting but, you know, out in the barn. Krista was there and so were the others. She said something about them belonging with the titans.” Eren stared as Hanji sucked in a sharp breath. “So that’s, what—true then? Hanji, what the hell.”

Instead of answering she raised a hand to lightly touch Eren’s cheek. “Did dream Krista do that?” She asked.

“Actually yeah. Is that… normal? Was it really her?”

“I doubt it,” Hanji said. “I’ve heard of this happening before, messages couched as dreams, but Krista doesn’t have the power to do this.”

Only one person Eren knew did but Hanji was already shaking her head. “No. If Irwin wanted to torment you…”

“He’d do it in person,” Eren finished. And he’d do a hell of a lot more than simply cut his cheek. “Corporal?” He ventured.

“He doesn’t know magic.”

“But he can remove some. Piggy-back…” Eren’s hand drifted to his leg where the binding spell had been broken.

“That’s totally different, human. Like, knowing how to make a really fantastic pie vs. pulling said pie out of the oven. Corporal just knows how to get oven mitts on.” Hanji dithered a bit from side to side. “But I don’t know who else has that kind of pie-making power. Or who’d want to contact you so badly.”

“Or who’d choose to do it through Krista,” Eren said pointedly. Hanji only sighed.

“Seriously, human. Not here. I’m sorry, really, but it’s for the best. We can’t be sure Irwin is actually gone. Want my advice? Find Corporal, ask him about it, and then the both of you find Krista together.”

“Hanji that’s… literally exactly what I was going to do.”

She lightly punched his arm, a grin returning. “Alright. Look how in-tune we are.”

“No, no I don’t think that’s it.”

“That’s totally it. Okay, actually leaving to make my friends rich this time. I’ll let you know if I run into anyone interesting. See ya?”

“See ya.” Eren watched as Hanji actually made it down the steps, pushing and shouting to make a path for herself. The whole spectacle made him laugh; which he figured was probably the point. Bubbling up into his throat, spilling in bursts from his lips… as nice as the laugh felt though, it didn’t help Eren in any practical sense. He still had no idea where Irwin was or what he might be up to, no sense of who the invader in the bathhouse was (right?), no Krista, no real explanation for his odd dream, and where, exactly, was he supposed to start looking for Corporal?

Eren sighed and started traipsing back the way he’d come, returning to the series of porches and ladders that hung along the top edge of the bathhouse. He’d last seen Corporal in his dragon form, flying through the air, so maybe he should start his search up high? It was as good an idea as any.

Less than five minutes later Eren emerged back into the sunlight. He blinked against the glare and wondered which direction to head in. He supposed it didn’t really matter. It would take a miracle for him to find Corporal.

Though sometimes—very, very rarely—miracles do happen.

As it was, Corporal found him.

Chapter Text

At first it was just a glimmer at the corner of Eren’s vision, a reflective glint that encouraged him to turn. The turn itself was purely instinctual—the animal drawn in by something shiny—and thus it took Eren’s mind a moment to kick into gear and process what he was seeing: an actual animal, flying, playing with—no, chased by something else. A lot of somethings.

Eren’s breath halted. “Corporal,” he said and sprinted for the railing.

Even leaning over as far as he dared Eren’s view was still fuzzy. It was definitely Corporal though, his dragon’s body twisting—writhing—in pain. And no wonder, nearly a hundred white creatures were swarming him, turning every time Corporal turned, tearing upwards every time he tried to move down. What could possibly move with that kind of agility? Birds? Eren hardly cared because every few seconds there was a flash along Corporal’s body that was different from the flash of his scales under the sun. Blood. Eren’s cheek throbbed in sympathy while his mouth dried with fear. He clutched the railing with white knuckles and dagger-like nails.

“Fight them off!” Eren screamed. “C’mon!”

The words were torn from him, they flew through the air… and Corporal heard. He turned with an intent he hadn’t previously possessed and shot for Eren.

The swarm followed.

For his part Eren stood frozen, his joints locked as a dragon and a hundred sharp things came barreling his way. An hour from then, if anyone had bothered to ask, Eren would have claimed that yes, his actions on the porch had been intentional. It was a plan and a pretty damn good one at that.

The truth, however, was that Eren ran for the door purely out of fear. Shutting the screen was merely another instinct, the clearest way to get a safety net between him and the mass of danger heading his way. Eren never thought about abandoning Corporal, that was literally the opposite of what he wanted… but it was an abandonment nevertheless, an unintentional abandonment because Eren hadn’t thought at all. Such was a downside of being human and Eren had never felt more human than when a bloody fucking dragon was charging his way.

Thus it was really only luck, or maybe evidence of Corporal’s skill, that got him through the last foot of door before Eren slammed it shut. A few of the white creatures got through too and Eren shrieked, stumbled away, thinking that he was next; beaks or claws were heading his way. He wasn’t fast enough though. A sting did flash across his hand and again Eren cried out… only to realize a second later that it didn’t actually hurt.

Eren held up his hand and blinked at it. The thinnest strip of red marred the pad of his thumb.

“A paper-cut?” He said. Eren popped the digit into his mouth. “What the hell?” He growled around it. “You’re all just paper!”

Indeed the creatures, now denied the power of wind currents, were fluttering pathetically to the ground. The ones that had plastered themselves to the door were also peeling away. Eren caught one that was wafting innocently past his shoulder. They weren’t birds at all but crude human-esque cutouts. Some had limbs twice as thick as they should have been or heads that bent inwards like dented grapes. A few even had jagged edges like the paper had been deliberately torn away and it was all so unnatural looking, spin-tingling familiar, that when Eren realized what they were meant to resemble he dropped the paper like it was something unthinkingly hot. It had, in a manner, burned him.

The cutouts looked like white, faceless titans.

A growl sounded behind Eren, making him jump. Corporal was there. He pressed up against the wall, baring his fangs and scoring the floor with his claws. Suddenly his tail lashed out and Eren screamed.

It arched through the room like a viper and it landed, just a hair’s breadth, from Eren’s left leg. The resulting crash was forceful enough to rattle the windows behind him; it was loud enough that Eren went momentarily deaf. It was in that bubble of ringing silence that he had the thought, brief and horrifying, that Corporal had gone completely mad. Or he’d turned. Or he’d undergone something so awful during his time spent away that now he inexplicitly wanted nothing more than to kill the human standing before him. Because that’s what it felt like—that Corporal’s tail had missed him by the barest inch.

It was only when the noise around him returned and Eren heard a swishing (illogically sounding pained) that he reconsidered those assumptions. It was a paper titan making those noises, its crushed body moving weakly in the crater Corporal’s tail had created. Eren let out a relieved, almost-sob as the limb was pulled away.

“Yo-o-ou w-weren’t aiming for me, y-yeah? Ha. Corporal. D-don’t go scaring me like that, you dick.”

Eren tried to muster up a grin for his friend but Corporal still wasn’t looking very friendly. His entire body was coiled tight like a spring, that tail continually whipping back and forth. He was bleeding too—a lot; far more than what those paper things could have caused. Thick pools of red sunk out from between his teeth while shallow cuts on his sides oozed in a similar manner. Red also covered Corporal’s scales in long streaks, no doubt smeared during his battle. It made the entire situation look more dire than it actually was.

At least, that’s what Eren told himself.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, maybe unnecessarily. But Corporal looked as if he could use simple, soothing sentences right now. Tentatively, Eren took a step forward. “Just—let me look, okay?”

Another step. Corporal growled.

“Don’t be stupid!” Eren raised his voice so he could hide the waver in it. “You… you hate being dirty, right? Well you’re filthy now so, so… So just let me fix you and then we’ll clean you up and it’ll all be fine, okay? It’s going to be fine… just fine…” Eren continued to creep forward. He continued his mantra too because for each inch he gained Corporal’s eyes went a little wider, until there was too much white, and then the white disappeared completely as his pupils blew. Eren still went closer, despite every one of those instincts telling him to run.

“Just—”

That’s as far as he got that time. Corporal lunged.

Eren ducked but by that time Corporal was already well above his head. He crashed through the window, easy as tissue paper, looking as if he was tripping over himself through the air. Eren ignored the glass raining down on his head as well as the blood that followed it, clearly Corporal’s but dotting his clothes in a manner too reminiscent of his dream. He swallowed bile and scrambled to his knees.

Corporal was already out in the sky when Eren made it to the railing. He shot upwards… then backwards, smacking into the bathhouse with a force that made Eren cringe. He strained his neck to keep Corporal in his sights even as he continued to seize high above him.

“Would you stop being such a bastard about this?” Eren screamed. “I’m trying to help you, you fuck. Come back!”

But Corporal either didn’t hear or didn’t care. He disappeared into a top tier window and the last thing Eren saw was a flick of that tail, raining another handful of bloody droplets.

“If you die I’m gonna kill you!” Eren shrieked before he took off running.

First to the right, then to the left, back to the right. There were no ladders on this side of the bathhouse, nothing that would give Eren a direct route to that window. So he went straight back the way he’d come, cursing all the while.

The elevator was too slow. The mobs of spirits were too fucking slow. When a group of gaggling cats insisted on taking up the whole damn hallway Eren unapologetically seized one by her tail. She yowled—as did the rest of them, finally clearing out of the way when they caught sight of his bloodied shirt.

Eren made it to the main floor in record time. He was lucky he hadn’t broken his neck but there was the reward: the tiny elevator down the hall that lead directly to Irwin’s office. Because that’s where Corporal had gone; only one person here lived at the top but right then Eren hardly cared. His palms were slick and his heart was thrumming, the cut on his cheek flared with heat. This was a need. Find Corporal, help him, even if the idiot didn’t want it. Well too damn bad. Eren had a straight shot to his friend and he had every intention of taking it.

That alone should have tipped him off, really. Since when did Eren ever have a straight shot at anything?

“You there, move!”

Eren blinked, clearing his vision of the elevator, still so far off—taunting him. Like smog clearing the rest of the hallway slowly came into view and Eren found nearly a hundred spirits staring him down.

“Uh…”

Well then.

They were lined up on either side of him, two rows each; the first kneeling with platters of food extended reverently, the second standing with bouquets of potent-smelling flowers. It looked some sort of parade of worship and to Eren it felt like a firing squad. The previous, celebratory chanting finally caught up with his ears as the hallway went dead silent. That is, except for one voice:

“I said move, human! You’re in the way of our guest.”

Eren stumbled as a toad shoved him backwards. He pivoted to regain his balance, fully intending to sock the toad because really, couldn’t he see that he was in Eren’s way? Then he caught sight of this “guest” and wow, how had Eren missed that?

Then the guest got closer and Eren’s jaw dropped.

It was Armin… a much larger version of Armin. He wasn’t anywhere near Dot’s size but he’d definitely been eating well since Eren had last seen him. His body had actual substance to it now… and a lot of it. As Armin moved his steps reverberated up the walls and then he came up from behind the toad who was still—okay then—spitting obscenities in Eren’s face. Armin neatly swatted him aside, which resulted in quite the tumble. He squatted down to Eren’s level. The hush that descended on the spirits was near tangible.

“You got fat,” Eren blurted and then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth.

Armin just grinned. His blond tufts of hair seemed to rise with pleasure and Eren tentatively smiled back.

“Sorry.” He gasped a little, still getting used to his friend’s new size. “I didn’t mean that. I mean I did mean it, but it’s okay. You look… good.”

And he did. In that Armin looked happy, far happier than when he and Eren had last met up. The memory sent a pang through him and a flush flooded Eren’s cheeks. Screaming at Armin, sending him away…

“Sorry,” Eren said again, this time for an entirely different reason. He watched as the smiled dropped from Armin’s face. His markings began to droop and Eren’s blood ran cold, thinking that Armin was remembering things too and hell, he probably didn’t like what was in his mind’s eye. Eren was quite prepared to back off before he got a punch himself.

But then a hand snuck out and gently touched the drying blood on Eren’s shirt. It was pretty obviously not his and it was nearly invisible now, the rusty color blending into the pink cloth, but Armin’s fingers still shook. He wasn’t mad… he was angry. And god, that made Eren feel like a heel.

“I’m fine,” he said as comfortingly as he could. “I’m—”

But before he could apologize again Armin’s hand moved to hover in front of his heart. His other hand moved to copy the placement and between the two palms a book sprang into life. The pages ruffled for only a moment before they began to dissolve into a staggering amount of gold. Armin’s hopeful “ahhhh” was overlapped with the spirits’ awed “ohhhh.”

Eren stared at the mound. It kept growing, spilling over Armin’s fingers and making tiny clinks on the floor as they fell. They sounded like blame—money being the reason Eren was here; greed and want—or maybe it sounded like Irwin’s voice—gleeful in its desire. Eren backed up a step. Another. Three.

It was stupid, he knew. Money itself wasn’t evil or anything. It wasn’t truly the reason for any of this happening and nothing, not even avarice, dictated Irwin’s actions—except Irwin. Hell, Eren could put that money to good use. Give it to Hanji and she could give it to everyone else. They’d buy food and houses, security… someplace away from here. Maybe it would make his friends just a little bit happier. At the very least Armin would be pleased, if the way he was shoving the mound forward was any indication…

But Eren couldn’t do it and the fact that he couldn’t made him feel even worse than the actual gold did.
That gold wouldn’t help Corporal.

Corporal. Eren felt a renewed flash of fear surging through his body like an electric shock. He needed to hurry. Fuck. What if he was already too late? Eren shuddered in a breath and looked up at Armin.

“I don’t want that,” he whispered.

Eren immediately wished he hadn’t said it. Armin looked slightly ill, an astounding accomplishment given that he was normally pale as milk. Eren grabbed his friend’s hands and scattered bits of gold between them. He could feel the tension mounting in the room, all those spirits literally begging to fall at their feet to catch a scrap. It made Eren cringe and it solidified his feeling that, yes, there were far more important things than this.

Fuck he needed to go…

“I’m sorry, Armin. Really. But dammit, I don’t want tokens or gold or… or any of that. I don’t need it. I need—fuck. Don’t you get what’s going on around here?”

Armin only tilted his head. Of course he didn’t get it. Eren had been the one who’d let him into the bathhouse, hadn’t he? What did Armin know that Eren hadn’t told him? It was beyond illogical to expect Armin to know, let alone care about Eren’s own issues. Still, none of that stopped the brief flash of irritation Eren felt. He tried to breathe deeply.

“Look,” he said. “I need to go. I’ll explain everything to you later, I promise. But right now another friend of mine is in serious trouble and I need to get to him like, right now, okay? So just, move already. We’ll talk after.”

Eren took a step forward, fully expecting Armin to move aside. He didn’t.

“Armin… move.”

Armin shook his head. Eren could just barely make out the elevator over his massive shoulder and if hadn’t been focusing on that he might have seen how frantic the movement was, pathetically desperate.

“Armin.”

The gold was literally shoved in Eren’s face making him splutter at the coppery scent.

It also made him angry.

Logic. Reasoning. Empathy. These were just pinpricks in the back of Eren’s mind now. They were tiny, useless logs incapable of stopping the flood of anger that came streaming forth, wetting Eren’s energy and helping to douse some of that fear. How dare Armin stand in his way? How dare he think that his—his what? His jealousy? His happiness? How dare he think any of it was more important than Corporal’s life? Eren just didn’t have time for this shit.

An inner voice tried screaming how wrong, how terribly wrong all of this was going, but it was quickly drowned out by love for another. Fear made Eren cruel.

“I said move!” He yelled and gave Armin’s hand a vicious squeeze. The gold between them scattered and Armin moved, startled really, just enough for Eren to bolt. He roughly pushed past, jumped the toad still gaping on the floor, and worked his way back into a sprint. That same inner voice was noting sounds of chaos behind him but by that point Eren was deaf to all but a single mantra: Fine Corporal. Corporal, Corporal, Corporal.

He’d worry about Armin later.

Eren threw himself into the elevator, using the entirety of his weight to crank the ancient lever. It flew downward and in response he shot up. It was still too slow though. Eren watched as the numbers lit up, impatient, practically running in place. He remembered Corporal standing beside him in this very spot… and punching him in the stomach. Eren would happily take another blow just for the reassurance that Corporal was strong enough to throw it. He felt an answering pain in his side that could have been from memory or present fear but ultimately Eren didn’t care. He ignored his own aches and pains; he watched the numbers rise.

When the doors began to open he was already squeezing through, bare toes catching on the space between wood and carpet. There were the ornate doors and the enormous urns. The knockers grinned as Eren approached.

“Look who’s back!” said the one of the right. “Rude boy, rude boy. Come for another round of manners have you? Oooo, I’d love to teach you a ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’”

The left knocker gave a high-pitched laugh.

“Let me through,” Eren huffed.

“Example A, brother, look here! See how rude he is? Still rude! He’s demanding entrance now, can you believe it?”

“I can, I can,” said the left. “Can you?”

“Why I must, for I see it before my very eyes.” And they both cackled.

“Let me in, fucking please!”

Eren’s fingers flexed. He itched to pry open their mouths and tug the doors open himself. There were sharp teeth in those jaws though and even if he ignored that possibility—which he would, he could, it was absolutely worth it—there was no saying if he could actually move the doors on his own; either due to their sheer weight or any magic Irwin might have left behind. Losing his fingers for nothing wasn’t smart. Even he knew that. Eren settled for grinding his teeth.

“Please,” he spit. “Pretty please with chocolate sauce and pistachios and a stupid, pink cherry. Don’t like that? Please with a pie. Please with an extra scoop of ice cream. Please everything, just let me in!”

Both suddenly stopped laughing. The knocker on the right peered suspiciously at Eren with bugged ceramic eyes. “Better, better,” he said. “Question though is—why do you want in? Hmmm? Human boy in Master’s quarters? Oh, I think not, no, no, no. Not even a polite human boy. What do you think, brother?”

“No,” he chirped and grinned a glinting, toothy grin. “Definite no. Remedial studies instead for this one, yes?”

“Yes! More manners!” And they began laughing, exactly as if they had never stopped.

“This is useless,” Eren growled and whirled back the other way. There were no other entrances though. The hallway ended in a blank wall with only the elevator as a means of escape. He couldn’t go back down but he obviously couldn’t get through here either. Eren was just resigning himself to returning to the roof and climbing the walls barehanded when he saw… something.

White. There was a tiny flash of white beside him. Eren turned quick as a whip and thought that something might have just slipped through the door. He wasn’t the only one.

“What was that?” cried the right knocker. His eyes rolled spastically, trying to see something that was no longer there.

The left copied his movement. “What? What?”

“Something!”

“What something?”

“Mischief something,” the right knocker howled. His eyes settled on Eren. “The human boy is being rude again.”

“I am not!” Eren huffed.

“You are! You let something in, you rude, stupid, spiteful little—”

“I didn’t—”

The doors were opening. Eren gapped at them for a second. Then, when it was clear he was only getting a foot or two of space he threw himself forward. The entire time the knockers screamed at one another—close the doors, close the doors—but by then it was too late. Eren was through.

Their voices were silenced as the doors closed once more behind him. Eren remained tense in the quite.

“Hello?” he called. No answer.

Who had opened the door? Someone… or something. All three of them had seen it certainly—whatever it was—and helpful or no, Eren didn’t relish meeting it in a darkened corridor such as this. The lamps that had been lit during his previous visit looked long extinguished and the maze of doors were only partly visible, crisscrossed as they were by shadows. Eren dug his feet into the plush carpet, seeking something solid. If he’d had any doubts that Irwin was out they were gone now because it was clear to anyone that this place was deserted.

Except, of course, for his Corporal bleeding somewhere in the labyrinth.

Where was Irwin’s office? Eren had literally flown there the last time… had he gone through the door on the right or the one on his left? Or the one straight ahead? Or was it one of the many that disappeared when he dared to look straight at them or the ones that reappeared at the corner of his eye?

Eren swallowed. “Hello?” he said again and nearly screamed when this time he got an answer.

“Left,” came a voice.

One hand clamped over his mouth and the other held out defensively, Eren turned frantically in a circle. He couldn’t see anyone but he could still hear them—almost. It was more like the feeling of one presence taking up residence with his own. Eren thought he felt, rather than heard, breathing near the base of his neck.

“Left,” the voice repeated and this time it sounded sorta familiar.

“Why the hell should I trust you?” Eren whispered.

“Well why shouldn’t you?” and then it was gone, as quickly as it had come. Eren couldn’t feel the presence anymore and whatever life had entered the dim corridor flickered away again. Just to make sure Eren lunged a few times in each direction, half hoping he’d hit some solid, invisible person… the other half hoping he really, really didn’t. When all he got was air and more exhaustion Eren dropped his arms.

There were no clocks in this hallway, nothing that proved the passage of time. Still, Eren was keenly aware of it slipping away.

“You’ve almost got a point,” he whispered to the (maybe) empty corridor. “Besides, what choice have I got? Ah hell…”

It took more strength this time for Eren to work himself into a run. After all, who wanted to plunge headfirst into the unknown? He did though. Heels kicking up behind him, Eren turned left.

Chapter Text

No sooner had he taken the turn then the voice returned. Not a literal voice, nothing Eren could point to and say, “There. It came from that direction.” It was just a whisper of thought here and there that wasn’t his own: go left, go right, go right again, no not that way it’s a dead end… left… left… left… and onwards until Eren was so turned around he swore he’d never find his way out again. The entire time he bit down hard on his lower lip, working not to snap at someone who obviously wasn’t there. Eren only hoped he was actually chasing a voice worthy of being followed.

It did help that… well. It was just that every once in a while, really just once or twice, when the voice carried itself through the corridor’s air Eren thought that maybe, just possibly, it sounded sort of, kind of, just a teensy bit familiar. Not real familiar. Not, oh-my-god-I-know-that-where’s-it-from-that’s-going-to-bug-the-shit-outta-me, familiar. More boring familiar, like Eren had heard it once before, promptly forgotten it, but now it had come back and he briefly thinks, ‘oh yeah, that’ before moving on with his life. Except that there was no ‘that.’ Eren couldn’t place it, no matter how hard he tried, and he strained his ears each time it sounded hoping to get a better taste.

He didn’t and soon enough he had bigger things to worry about. The ornate doors to Irwin’s rooms were just up ahead.

“Here,” the voice whispered to which Eren responded: “No, shit.”

They opened at his approach.

Though slow, the creaking of the doors nearly blinded Eren. He’d grown accustomed to the dark hallways and now light spilled out over him in a wave. Creeping forward with one hand pressed to his eyes Eren prepared himself for the possibility of meeting Irwin. The place certainly seemed deserted but if the lights were on in here…

But no. Eren’s shoulders leveled out as he entered the thankfully empty office. Neat little knick-knacks still whirled on silver stands and more than one lamp was lit without cords or gas, but beyond that the signs of life were nil. It also didn’t escape Eren’s notice that there was no blood in this room. Everything looked as clean and tidy as Irwin no doubt loved it, which meant that Corporal probably hadn’t come this way. There was a door directly behind the desk and another off to the right. Eren hesitated between them.

“Got any more directions to give out?” he asked aloud. The voice stayed silent.

“Well thanks a lot then,” Eren muttered and randomly chose the door on the side.

The office really was huge and as Eren traversed the carpet he had time to hope really, really hard that this wasn’t a bedroom. Did sorcerers sleep? All the spirits did but if anyone would be different around here it would be Irwin. Eren prayed it wasn’t so because he could definitely go the rest of his life without seeing where a guy like that slept. What would it be then? A coffin? Something resembling a torture chamber? No. An old storybook rose from the back of Eren’s mind, one involving dragons. That would be Irwin: a shrimpy dragon-wannabe who slept on a horde of gold, probably naked. Eren cringed at the mental image, working his mouth in distaste. Oh god. Ewwww.

In fact, Eren was so absorbed in this horrific imagining that he never noticed the strange blue light emanating from beneath the door. If he had, he might have thought twice about opening it.

As it was, Eren turned the knob with both hands.

At first he thought he was still imagining things because this room looked an awful lot like his morbid fantasies. In that it looked rich; super rich. Expensive looking pieces of furniture lined the walls, topped with equally expensive looking adornments. Eren saw clear crystal classes filled with jewels and others spilled over with coins. There were encased pieces of wood with seemingly ancient ink strokes, glittering statues of cats and birds, a mannequin draped in what were no doubt the softest silks available, piles of books with unique, two inch covers, a chandelier propped in the corner that was roughly the size of a baby elephant... Eren felt his breath leaving him in an outward gasp. All that wealth just locked away. The only difference between Eren’s imagination and reality was the everything wasn’t piled together like a dragon’s hoard and everything was also, oddly, bathed in a blue light. It took Eren a moment to realize that there was even a source.

The room did in fact have an order to it. Every other treasure might have been pushed hazardously against the walls but that was only to make room for what was in the middle. There, at the very back, was something balanced on a silver stand roughly the size of a coffee table.

A crystal… and there was something else inside it.

Eren felt the hairs on the nape of his neck beginning to rise even as his legs crept forward. The crystal was massive—phenomenally huge. It was shaped like an egg and Eren could make out a hundred different planes cut into its body, blue light emanating from each and every one. That blue light was continually fractured not only by the cut of the glass but by the ropes that bound the crystal to its stand. They crisscrossed around the base and the sides, pulling upwards and disappearing into the darkened ceiling. Eren couldn’t see where they stopped but they must have gone on almost for forever because every few seconds, seemingly at random, a spark of that blue light would move across the ropes, like a current of electricity shooting by. Eren watched one travel up, up, up, the light illuminating its own passage even as the rope blended into the shadows. Soon enough it too was lost and Eren was left craning his neck with his mouth open wide. He shut it with a snap.

Whatever that was, it definitely wasn’t just light. It looked almost tangible and Eren was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to touch it.

Still, he moved a little closer. There was something inside that crystal and it looked pretty big. What would someone possibly put inside a—?

“Just put him in here.”

Eren jumped but recovered quick enough to slap a hand over his mouth before a frightened squeak emerged. It was Irwin. And by the tramp of footsteps he wasn’t alone.

Indecisive between moving further into the room and hiding, or trying to sneak back to the door and get a look, the decision was taken out of Eren’s hands when he heard the name “Corporal” slip from Irwin’s lips. Turning on his heel he tip-toed as quietly as he could to the far wall, sneaking an inch at a time until he could just peer out the door that he’d left open a crack. From this angle Irwin’s desk was just visible, as was the door behind it that Eren had bypassed. Now he was glad he had because Irwin was walking through, accompanied by Corporal’s team.

… and Corporal himself.

A tiny noise did escape then. It slipped right out from between Eren’s lips. He couldn’t help it, of course he couldn’t, but luckily no one seemed to hear. Eren was left biting through his thumb as Corporal’s body was dragged into the room. He was still in his dragon form and it took Petra, Gunther, Erd, Oluo, and Mike, all of them combined, to heave him through. Despite the difficulty Eren could see that they were trying to be as gentle with him as they could. Gunther cradled the joint of a leg as tenderly as a man his size was capable of. Oluo cried silently, looking back at the trail of blood they were leaving behind them. The rest of them didn’t look much better.

Eren wanted to run to Corporal. Right then, right that very instant. He almost did, the only thing stopping him was a tiny voice whispering how foolish it would be. Irwin would find him, capture him, do who knew what for breaking into his quarters… and then where would Corporal be? At this point Eren didn’t even know if that voice was the one he’d heard before or simply his own inner thoughts but he heeded it. He dug his hands into his thighs and refused to let his legs move.

“Toss him there—yes, there.” Irwin snapped as they lowered Corporal carefully onto the rug. “You’ve been a nuisance since day one, haven’t you, Corporal?” Irwin said the name with a sneer. “Even now you don’t have the decency to die cleanly. I’ll have to have these rugs replaced…” A sharp ring interrupted this morbid reflection. Eren pressed himself more tightly against the wall as Irwin made his way to the desk and snatched up a phone.

“Yes, what is—?” Irwin cut himself off, his face going stone cold. “Well don’t just—! Fine. Oh very well, you fools, I’ll be down in a moment. Don’t let him eat anyone else before I get there.” With a sigh Irwin lowered the phone back to its cradle, rubbing his other hand against the bridge of his nose. “It appears that there’s a… disturbance downstairs.” He paused, as if expecting one of the others to inquire. None of them spoke of course. With a frustrated huff Irwin slashed his hand through the air and all five spirits stumbled away from where they’d still be clustered around Corporal. Each lifted a hand to their throats, swallowing.

Oluo let out a harsh sob.

“Disturbance, sir?” Mike asked obediently, even as Irwin eyed Oluo.

“Yes. There seems to be a rogue spirit loose in my bathhouse. He’s eating the workers.” Irwin shrugged casually even as Eren felt his stomach drop. Armin. Armin wouldn’t eat anyone… would he?

‘Maybe he wouldn’t have if you’d been a little nicer.’ That was definitely his own conscious speaking and Eren shook it away, fiercely. Not now. He strained his ears to catch Irwin’s instructions. He was rolling up his shirt sleeves even as he spoke, revealing pale, muscled arms.

“Considering that I am obviously the only competent person here I will go deal with this pest. Watch him.” Irwin’s hand shot out to point at Corporal. “If you attempt to help him, I will know. If you try getting help from another, I will know. You will do anything other then watch and make sure he remains exactly as he is… I will know. Don’t worry. It won’t be long now. Then you can report back to me.”

Oluo gave another sob and this time he was joined by Petra. Both of their cries drowned out Eren’s.

“Is that understood?” Irwin cried.

“Yes, sir.” Erd managed. His jaw worked forcibly.

“Good.”

With that Irwin turned from them dismissively. He tip-toed around the bloodstains with a sneer and, to Eren’s horror, made towards his door.

He couldn’t move fast enough, but he still had to keep silent, and the result was Eren awkwardly shuffling towards the nearest, largest surface. That turned out to be the broken chandelier and Eren dove behind it like a soldier leaving the line of fire. He got his bare feet pulled under him just as Irwin pushed open the door and clicked it shut behind him. The chandelier hid him well, with only a bit of pink from his clothes showing through. Nevertheless, Eren went entirely still.

Irwin walked right past him. Not even a glance. It occurred to Eren, when he could again hear his thoughts over the frantic beating of his heart, that Irwin couldn’t possibly be as knowledgeable as he claimed. Yes, he might know most of the workings of the bathhouse thanks to numerous spies and yes, maybe he had specific ties on Corporal’s team… but he wasn’t omniscient. If he was he would have noticed the human boy breathing into his palms just a few feet away.

“Why hello there, my dear.”

But if Irwin didn’t know he was there… then who was he talking to?

The muscles in Eren’s legs turned to water but Irwin’s boots didn’t come his way. He didn’t speak again either. Instead, Eren watched the floor, fascinated, as that blue light grew in strength. It pulsed, pulling back and forth across the tile like the ocean across sand. Then Eren heard it: a low hum crawling up into the air. It wasn’t unpleasant exactly but the volume increased to the extent that Eren moved his hands from his lips to his ears. With one sense blocked he needed to see, really see, so Eren rose up onto his knees and dared to peek over an arch of the chandelier.

Irwin was standing before the crystal, his arms outstretched and his fingers spread. The blue light wasn’t just pulsing, it was emanating, flowing—directly into his flesh. The light disappeared into his body and gave his skin its own bluish hue; it made Irwin look foreign, a true other bathed in unnatural light. Eren couldn’t see his face but if the gentle rocking he was doing was any indication, his expression was most likely one of rapture. The humming grew as Irwin seemed to absorb more and more.

Then it stopped. Suddenly. Irwin rocked back on his heels as he’d been released all at once and he drew his hands against his chest, like he was clutching something precious. Eren thought the saw something else in the crystal move.

“There now,” Irwin said. “That wasn’t so hard now was it, my dear?”

Then he turned. Eren was forced to duck back down behind the chandelier.

Irwin’s footsteps came closer… too close… then stopped just a foot from where Eren hid. He could hear Irwin tapping lightly against the wall beside him until there came the softest swoosh, like cloth brushing cloth. Eren popped up again just in time to see Irwin exiting through a door that hadn’t been there a moment ago. As he swung through the magical archway his arm casually flit backwards and the skin of his wrist was visible. That blue coloring remained but it was already getting lighter. Eren was close enough to see that it was merging with the blue of Irwin’s veins.

Then he was gone. The door melted away as if it had never existed.

That was good. Even in the midst of everything else, Eren realized that it was good. It was really good. After all, if Irwin didn’t leave by the front then those knockers couldn’t alert him to the fact that Eren was here, hiding. Good. Good, good. If he didn’t go back the way he’d come then he couldn’t torture Corporal or his team anymore. Good, good, good. Something at least was good and Eren held onto that, madly. It was something at least, in a world where giant crystals pulsed blue and sorcerers absorbed that light into their skin. Good.

Eren rolled to his feet, running silently back to the door. Irwin had closed it behind him when he’d entered but Eren had to take the chance. It was far easier than he’d thought it would be to ease the knob to the right just an inch, to quietly provide himself with a sliver of space. Petra and the others didn’t turn as the door opened just a smidge. In fact, that didn’t seem to be moving at all. They stood exactly where Irwin had left them, some still crying but none of them daring—or able—to move.

Eren thought that maybe strands of Corporal’s mane were still fluttering from his breath… or that might have been wishful thinking.

Then suddenly there was another movement, something soaring across the window outside. It was a bird, a vulture to be exact, and Eren recognized it immediately as the one that had been hunting him when he’d first arrived. It dipped and soared a moment before plunging towards the bathhouse’s main gates. Irwin—making an impressive exit. Eren shivered against the wood.

“Crash and burn, you fuck.” He whispered.

The need was still there, far stronger now that he was sure Irwin had actually left: to run to Corporal and check his wounds, to make sure that he did not die. But could Eren actually do that? What if Corporal’s team attacked him, or told Irwin, even if they didn’t want to? What could he do for Corporal then? But what exactly could he do in here either?

The crystal pulsed behind Eren.

Stay or go?

It throbbed.

Stay or go?

‘Turn.’

Eren did turn, only half aware that he hadn’t truly decided to do so. That had been a voice. A third voice distinct from his own thoughts and the one that had spoken to him in the hall. Whisper thin and sounding so tired, Eren had barely caught it passing over his mind… but it was there.

“Who’s there?” he whispered. No one responded. Eren was very much alone in the room. He didn’t feel alone though. Not at all.

There was definitely something in that crystal.

Eren didn’t forget Corporal—never—but he put him aside for just a moment and walked forward with as much daring as he could muster. Nothing good could come from this surely. Anything Irwin took so much pleasure in was something Eren wanted no part of. Yet for all that rationalization the crystal didn’t feel evil. Or even bad. Not like how the constriction around Eren’s heart felt or the cold that ran down his spine whenever he got near the titans. In fact, Eren realized now that Irwin hadn’t so much absorbed that light as outright taken it, stolen it even. The room was noticeably less blue now and the crystal itself lacked its previous luster. The bits of energy still shot along the ropes but now they moved at a sluggish pace, some even sputtering out halfway on their journey, like little lights just giving up. The crystal’s entire body seemed to sag and Eren wondered if those ropes could even hold it up much longer. All of it, the entire picture just looked… sad. How the hell did a crystal look sad?

Eren got his answer. Just three feet away he found it and froze.

Perhaps not the best description given the circumstances but it was accurate at least, considering that there was a person inside that crystal—frozen. Frozen in time and space. Eren sucked in a harsh breath and forgetting entirely about his previous worries, he rushed forward until he was just inches or so from the stand. He peered upwards into the face of a girl.

What. The. Fuck.

She was really pretty, in a harsh sort of way. Or maybe the harshness just came from the crystal’s hard edges cutting into her face. Blond hair fell in sharp sections down both her cheeks where it wasn’t tied up in a messy bun. She was dressed in a simple white tunic and pant combo… one that Eren immediately recognized from his dream.

Did he know her? No. Definitely not. Eren would swear he’d never seen her before and she didn’t feel familiar either, not like how Corporal sometimes felt. Really though, did any of that matter? At all?

“Fuck no,” Eren muttered. He felt woozy. Nauseous. “Because, Irwin, you’re apparently really into this whole kidnapping thing, aren’t you? And now you’re trapping people in crystals? No. Ha—no, no, no… I need a baseball bat.”

Eren literally did look for one, more than half hoping that he’d find one encrusted with jewels or something. No such luck, but there was some sort of scepter propped against a glass case. Eren hefted it in his hands. It was a good head taller than him and a hell of a lot heavier than it looked. Nevertheless, he gripped it tight and with a tremor of rage shaking both arms he swung it hard against the cabinet.

Glass shattered in an impressive arc across the floor and Eren grinned like a feral wolf. The wood with its ancient markings tumbled out and split into pieces on the ground, utterly ruined. Good. Excellent. What was even more impressive was the sound: a shriek as glass burst into a thousand shards, the scratching they made as they skittered across the floor… the shouts coming from Corporal’s team just in the other room. Eren knew he only had seconds before they burst in but even then he still thought about taking the scepter to the rest of the room because boy, was he sorely tempted. Eren forced himself to resist though. He turned back to the crystal.

Was this girl another human?

He didn’t know.

Would the scepter be able to break the crystal?

He didn’t know.

What would happen if he touched the light? Would it hurt him?

He didn’t know.

Should he be wasting time on her when Irwin was hunting Armin?

He didn’t know.

Should he be wasting time on her when, just feet away, Corporal lay dying?

He didn’t know.

Was this girl even still alive?

Eren didn’t know. He didn’t know… but he sure as hell was going to find out.

Not allowing himself to think on the consequences Eren raised the scepter for another blow. He could feel the metal rubbing against the top of his palms where he didn’t have enough callouses to protect him, the cold easing away under his body heat, slick with sweat, his knuckles aching with the force of his grip. Eren swung from his shoulder and rocked from his hips. The scepter flew right through the blue light and struck the crystal at its base. Eyes wide, Eren watched as two ropes snapped from that force alone.

That was more than enough. Something else snapped then, something intangible, and Eren was blown backwards from a force that could have only come from magic. He flew the length of the room and his head struck something familiar. Spastically he reached a hand up and found his chandelier. There was blood too.

The world was very blue then. The color rose from floor to ceiling and rushed at Eren with purpose. Then everything jumped three shades darker, thickening from blue to a deep and terrible black.

‘This is just like drowning,’ Eren thought and under he went.

Chapter Text

Eren awoke to hands in his hair.

The fingers were long, the nails too, and Eren’s muddled thoughts tired valiantly to pull the characteristics into a whole. The hands were far too large to be Mikasa’s and too soft to be his father’s. Had his mother’s hands ever felt this warm? No. They were cold from washing vegetables in the mornings and stitching in the cool air at night, the rest of her body wrapped in throws and seated next to a hot furnace. His mother’s hands… they were balm on a summer’s day or a shock to induce his laughter—not this. But Eren couldn’t think of anyone else, no one in his life who’d comb warm fingers through his hair. Hers were the only ones.

Weren’t they?

Maybe. Eren couldn’t come up with anyone else just yet, not now, when his thoughts felt like jigsaw puzzle pieces, bent and soaked and warped so that they just refused to fit together. All Eren was sure of was that the hands cradling him were not ones he knew, they were a stranger’s… but god did they feel good. There was a frantic pounding in the back of his skull that was slowly being massaged out of him, a stickiness that was being washed away. Eren liked these hands and he sighed into their caress.

When he did they stopped moving.

“Hey,” a voice said. A woman’s. “Are you awake? I’m not groping you for my own health you know.”

Eren’s eyes flew open and that poor jigsaw puzzle was forced into completion, the pieces stuck together with concrete and glue. He gasped at the light that assaulted him, all the blurred shapes demanding his attention, and the girl… poised above Eren, equally blurry except for a head of blond hair that sort of looked like a halo. All angelic comparisons were obliterated though when her fingers gave a final squeeze and pain shot through Eren’s forehead. Then it was gone. Eren was left gasping like a fish even as his vision snapped back into focus.

He could see her features now: the hollowed cheekbones, sharp nose, thinned lips, and eyes like tacks, pinning Eren to the floor. He breathed easier when she lifted her weight off his hips, settling by his side… and then his breath caught again when she started pawing at his shirt.

“What the hell,” Eren croaked. His voice might have been shot but his legs still worked. He tried scooting backwards, for all the good that did him. The girl just followed.

“You’ve got nothing to complain about,” she said even as Eren squawked. “You’ve already got blood all over your shirt. What’s a little more?”

Eren blinked down at himself, at his soiled uniform. Blood. Someone’s blood.

“Corporal,” he said and tired to sit up. The girl helped, hauling Eren even as she continued to use his shirt as a towel.

“Why is there blood on your hands?” Eren wasn’t so sure he liked her hands anymore.

“Why do you have blood on your shirt?” She countered.

“It’s not mine.”

“Well neither is this—not mine I mean.” She held up her now relatively clean fingers. “It’s yours.”

Eren gingerly touched the back of his head. He could feel stiffness in his hair from more drying blood but no pain. He remembered being thrown backwards…

“I healed you,” the girl said casually and rolled to her feet. Eren followed, wobbling only slightly.

“Oh. Thanks.”

She shrugged.

“You were…” Eren swallowed. “You were in that crystal, weren’t you?”

Indeed, looking past her he could see said crystal in its new, broken state. Gone was the blue light and the ropes were all snapped, some of them frayed or even charred. The crystal itself was an emptied egg, jagged shards lying open like the petals of a flower. Eren had the fleeting, hysterical thought that this made the girl Thumbalina. His mom had read him that story, hadn’t she? A long time ago but not so long that Eren didn’t remember picturing Thumbalina as a hell of a lot more approachable than this girl. She may as well have just remained in the crystal; her walls were just as thick.

“You were in there,” Eren repeated dumbly. It was kinda the best he could manage at the moment but he thought it did a decent job of summing up the, oh, hundred or so questions he had. Which wasn’t much, really. Just a few little inquiries. Nothing important.

Right.

The girl shoved her hands in the pockets of her white pants and pursed her lips. Beyond the arctic stare it was probably the most dramatic expression she’d made so far. At length she finally said, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes I was in there. Now I’m not. I suppose that’s thanks to you.” She inclined her head and some of those sharp lines softened. “Let’s leave it at that.”

“No.” The word slipped out before Eren could check it. “No, listen! I’m so damn sick of—of—of everyone keeping things from me! What exactly is going on—?”

“He’s dying.” She said the words indifferently but Eren didn’t miss the bulging in her pockets: fists clenching. “We don’t have time for you to throw a temper tantrum. Not if you really want to help.”

“Dying?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” Eren breathed. “Of course I want to help.” He shook his head frantically, dislodging bits of anger with every shake. He was already moving towards the door. “Fuck. You’re right. Okay. But you’re coming with me.” Eren reached back to snag her wrist and the girl was already just a step behind him.

“No.” She said and he did a double-take at the sarcasm he heard there, infusing previously monotone words. “I’ll just stay here if you don’t mind, twiddle my thumbs and wait for Irwin to come back and lock me up again. Go ahead without me. Really. Don’t worry. I’m fine. I was thrilled to be his slave and I’d like to remain so for another handful of centuries. Then, if another little boy comes along I’ll tell him the same thing. Why the hell would I want to come with you?” She shot him an icy glare even as the speed of her strides increased and she nearly overtook him. Eren boggled.

“Wow. That was a switch. Uh… what’s your name?”

“Annie. Yours?”

“Taken,” Eren spit and he didn’t need to explain that. Annie gave a single nod that was filled with far too much understanding.

“Then it looks like we’ve got something in common,” she said and the two of them pushed through the door.

Annie’s release had wreaked havoc amongst Irwin’s treasures, an unforeseen consequence that Eren didn’t have the time to cheer over yet. But the destruction he and Annie had waded through stood as a testament to time passing; something had happened in that room and this was the proof. In contrast, Irwin’s office was static. It looked exactly as it had when he’d left.

Right down to the five spirits standing in a line.

“Human.” Petra gasped it even as the boys struggled for words of their own. “That was you? You—” her eyes strayed to the door behind him and then her voice bubbled up, overflowing. “We heard a crash and then an explosion but we couldn’t move, I’m so sorry, we couldn’t move, we…” Then she caught sight of Annie. “You.” Petra breathed.

“Me.” Annie agreed and then she waved a palm. The five spirits fell forward as if they’d had harnesses attached to their back that had suddenly, simultaneously been cut. Eren had to weave between stretching limbs to reach Corporal. He dropped straight to his knees.

“Hey,” Eren said but it was clear that Corporal couldn’t greet him back just yet. He was only partly awake, his long body shifting restlessly against the carpet, abrasively rubbing the fibers against gashes between his scales. Eren let out a growl similar to Corporal’s own when he found that many of those gashes were still bleeding.

“You could have helped him!” He cried to no one in particular, although it was probably directed mostly at himself. Why had he stayed hidden so long? Why had he wasted time on Annie? The carpet felt wet beneath his knees and Eren gagged at the realization that this entire section of rug wasn’t meant to be red. Heedless of the girls behind him he threw off his shirt and tried to tear it into strips. A pair of larger, stronger hands closed over his own.

“We couldn’t move,” Gunther reminded him. He knelt, taking the shirt and making bandages. Silently he began wrapping them about Corporal’s body. The pink coloring deepened instantly.

Feeling useless Eren looked up and found Eld, Oluo, and Mike also fawning over Corporal—providing unacknowledged comfort if not physical healing. Everyone knelt but Petra. She alone stared at Annie, her expression shifting between wariness and hope.

“You’re out,” Eren heard her say.

“Obviously.”

“We…” Petra swallowed. “We tried to help you.”

“I know. I could hear in there.” Her shoulders hunched, minutely. “I could feel too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” Petra said. “Partly at least. We had a job to do and we failed. I’m so sorry but, for what it’s worth, I’m also really glad to be meeting you now. Formally.”

She held out her hand and Annie slowly grasped it, her body language screaming fear that Petra would pull away even as her face remained blank. Petra was sturdy though and within seconds the two were able to hold hands like sisters, those who steadied one another amidst a storm. Eren was the lighting that struck between them.

“Hey,” he growled. “Hey! Annie, you need to heal him okay? Heal Corporal and then we can…”

He trailed off. They could what? Annie was free and the team was free and those two things surely meant something, but right then Eren simply didn’t care. Heal Corporal. Everything else could come after, even the consequences of freedom.

“Please,” he said.

Stepping gently Annie came to join their circle. However, the ease of her walk, the lack of haste in her bend to the floor, all of it told Eren the answer well before she spoke.

“I can’t.” Annie said and Eren’s stomach still dropped despite the lack of surprise.

“What do you mean you can’t? You’re a sorceress aren’t you? Powerful enough that Irwin’s been sucking you dry for years!” It was Oluo who spoke, his voice still clogged up with tears. He waved his arms at his friends, demanding that his words be confirmed. Petra stepped forward.

“You’re powerful,” she insisted. Pleaded. “Of course you are. Surely you can do something.”

“And you healed me.” Eren added. He tilted his head for all of them to see. The unblemished skin acting as proof. Nodding in acknowledgement to this Annie placed one hand atop Corporal’s head… and the cuts faded away. Gunther pulled back as the magic rushed in a wave over the body, making his bandages obsolete. There was a collective, celebratory breath before Annie broke it with a twisting of her lips.

“I can’t,” she said again. “Those gashes were superficial; they’re not what’s killing him. Irwin took a lot of my magic today but even if he hadn’t, I still wouldn’t know how to fix this spirit. He’s beyond my skill.” Annie silenced Oluo’s protest with a look. “I am powerful… and you’d do well to remember that. I’ve spent decades locked up in there, watching the likes of you come and go and I assure you, Oluo, the only reason I haven’t swatted you aside is because I owe a debt to this boy.” Annie’s violent aura faded away, leaving her looking younger than she probably was. “I’m powerful, yes, but I’m not perfect. Only fools like Irwin believe that power equals invulnerability. I was reckless enough to get captured, I wasn’t strong enough to escape… I can’t sever your ties to him, not completely.”

Oluo and the others looked down; Erd raised a hand instinctually to his heart. Eren felt it too: the constant pull that Irwin had on them all. Annie could give them movement and their voices back but not much else it seemed. Not enough.

“There’s simply nothing I can do for this spirit.” Annie looked to Eren. “I’m sorry.”

Acknowledging the apology wasn’t an option. That was paramount to acknowledging her belief that nothing could be done.

No.

Eren hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud until every head swiveled his way. There was expectation there and Eren hid from it. He folded his bare chest over Corporal’s body, the scales cool against his ribs. Eren could smell salt as he buried his nose in the green mane and demanded, “What are we going to do?”

Silence greeted him.

“Fucking do something!” He screamed and promptly choked on a sob.

“Ah… Is this my cue then?”

Eren’s head cracked up with the speed of a whip—as did everyone else’s. He knew that voice, even if it was only partly familiar. It was the voice that had gotten him through the doors and down the endless halls, except Eren wasn’t the only one hearing it now.

In the instant he’d looked away his friends had gone from being curled cat-like around their friend to defensive positions worthy of any army. Oluo and Mike were nearest to Corporal’s head and thus took to shielding him in his vulnerable position. Gunther and Erd moved to cover Eren. Petra snatched the nearest weapon—a wicked looking letter opener on Irwin’s desk—while Annie rose silently to her feet. Only one palm twitched and then it was filled with fire. Eren flinched away from the heat.

“Wait…” he started to say because did he really want them attacking someone who might be an ally? Then it was too late. They were all were able to locate the intruder as a movement, not a sound, came from behind Irwin’s desk. At first Eren thought that a breeze had scattered some of the papers… but a quick look confirmed that no windows were open. Instead, from a pile of leaflets came a rippling and then one sheet rose up above the rest. It shook itself like a wet dog and bits of the paper fell away—corners, a large section from the bottom middle, thin strips that curled to the floor—until something far more complex than a rectangle hung in the air before them.

It was a titan. Or rather, the cut-out version of one.

Eren immediately recognized this as one of the things that had attacked Corporal. Previous hesitancy forgotten he rose to his feet beside Annie, slipping into the approximation of a fighting stance. It had landed him more than one punch in the past and it would have to do for now. As far as Eren was concerned, that thing wasn’t so much as laying another paper cut on Corporal.

“What are you?” Petra barked. She slid the letter opener between two of her fingers, aiming as if she meant to throw it. Mike cautiously slid up behind her.

“I recommend that you answer her,” he said. “I can attest to her accuracy. More pressingly you’re on private property. This bathhouse and these chambers belong solely to Sorcerer Irwin. He will—”

“Really now.” The paper cutout fluttered to the rug and took two waddling steps forward. “I know he’s got his hooks in you but please, don’t parrot his lies back to me. We both know Irwin doesn’t own this bathhouse anymore than I do, don’t we, Mike?”

Mike’s face scrunched in confusion and he wasn’t the only one. Oluo mouthed the words back to himself, tasting their cadence, as if he too recognized something he couldn’t place.

“Who are you?” He growled.

“Well ‘who’ is better than ‘what’ I suppose. If you’d only give me a moment, this isn’t the easiest spell to break.”

At the word ‘spell’ everyone stiffened, Eren most of all. But before he could pounce or run or simply throw himself on top of Corporal in the hopes of protecting him, the paper was already changing. It grew first, rising upwards like dough. The already distorted parts of its body became even more grotesque as the paper gained depth as well as height, filling out until it actually resembled a creature with substance. Slowly though those deformities smoothed away, leaving only the hint of head, arms, and legs, a blank template from which to build. The skin, if Eren were to call it skin, morphed from snow-white to the pink of a human’s complexion. Hair grew atop the head—blonde—the bulbous ends of the arms grew fingers, stretching after they’d formed, as if they already ached in their new existence. Clothes appeared, eyelashes, veins and a mole down by the base of the neck. Before long a man was standing before them.

A man all of them recognized.

Irwin.

“Annie, wait!”

Petra’s cry came too late though. Eren hardly heard her himself. Hope was hard to sustain when you couldn’t think of any answers, when all you could feel was helplessness… but still, whatever remained of Eren’s hope spluttered and died at seeing Irwin appear before them. This was it then. If he’d returned so soon then he’d probably killed Armin… he’d kill them all now too. Eren stumbled backwards until he tread over Corporal’s claw. His friend didn’t even flinch.

Was he even still breathing?

Breath came hard for Eren too. He didn’t know if it was the panic or the heat that had infused the room. In the second it had taken for all this to flash through his mind Annie had grown her fireball until it resembled a small sun. In just the short amount of time that he’d known her she’d seemed so composed, cold even, but now Annie burned hot and she let loose a scream of rage that sounded as if it had torn itself from her throat. The fire roared towards Irwin… only to splutter out upon meeting his hand, like a candle being extinguished with a bit of spit. Irwin looked down at his palm, barely scorched, and stepped forward before Annie could raise her hand for another blow. Touching the crown of her head so gently (gently?) he plucked a strand and blew. With a look of pure fear crossing her face Annie shrunk before their eyes… and a tiny mouse appeared in her place.

Irwin caught her delicately as she fell.

“There,” he breathed, relieved (relieved?). “I can see now why he kept such a hold on you, Annie. That fire would have done some serious damage if I had truly been its intended—ouch!”

Annie dropped to the floor. Irwin held up a finger, dotted with blood.

“Really. You didn’t have to bite me.”

She let out a hiss. Eren had never heard a mouse hiss before. Instinctually he crouched and held out a hand to her. Annie scrambled up as Eren pulled her protectively to her chest, stroking the soft fur of her back.

“You keep away from her, you fuck.” Annie wasn’t the only one hissing. Eren backed up as far as he could go, until he felt Corporal’s body under his heels. He dropped again, trying to keep Annie safe in one arm and all of Corporal safe with the other. His fingers found scales and stiffened as they rose and fell beneath his skin: still breathing.

Irwin inched forward. “If you would just hear me out a moment.”

“I said keep away!”

“Eren, please.”

“I SAID—”

Eren’s breath caught then, completely, truly—it stopped short and sputtered into a gasp at hearing it.

His name.

Petra took advantage of the opening and rushed forward. She dropped next to Eren while the others took up stations behind them and Eren couldn’t help but notice their relaxed stances now; how Oluo was nodding as if anything actually made sense here.

“What’s going on?” Eren whispered.

“That’s not Irwin.” Petra took hold of his hands, nearly squashing Annie in the process. She squeezed tight though, hard and soft and determined all at once. “E.. Eren? Was that it? Your name?” Her head swung towards the Irwin look-alike who nodded. “Eren, Eren.” She repeated it a few more times, like she was trying to make it stick. “Listen to me. He’s not Irwin. Annie,” Petra leaned forward to get on eye level with the tiny mouse. Annie still had her own beady eyes locked on the spirit in front of her, her curly tail twitching like a tiger’s. “You too. Listen to me. Irwin kept you prisoner a long time, yes?” Those eyes shot up to meet Petra’s. “I know he did. But even after all this time, how much do you actually know about him? Really?”

Petra shrugged. The gesture looked both relieved and weepy, like she might have been as close to breaking as Eren felt. When she gave another full body twitch he knew, instantly, that she wanted to reach around them both to Corporal. Instead she asked,

“Did you know, for example, that he has a brother?”

The high-pitched squeak Annie gave confirmed that as a ‘no.’

“Brother.” Eren said dumbly.

“Yes. Loath as I am to admit the relation.” Not-Irwin came a little closer, just inching forward on tip-toe. He swept his hands down his chest. “Identical twins, in case you missed it.”

Eren swallowed. His throat felt raw and raspy. “You’re not identical,” he said. “You’re… you’re something else, okay. You’re exactly the same. Exactly! You even sound alike!”

“You’ve a good eye. And ear,” he said. He was nearly side by side with Petra now. Eren could feel himself shaking as the spirit crouched, tilted his head, then held out his hand— as if such a gesture were the most natural thing in the world.

Fuck. Did he actually expect Eren to shake it?

“It’s lovely to meet you, Eren. I’m Erwin.”

Eren’s cringed backward. “You just said…”

“Ewin,” he annunciated, stressing the first syllable only slightly. “Not Irwin, Eren. Erwin. It’s quite the nuisance I’ll admit. You’re right that in many ways we’re more similar than even human twins… but not in morals. Of that I assure you.” His hand was still hanging in the air.

Eren looked to Petra who nodded without hesitation. Behind him Erd, Gunther, Mike, and Oluo were huddled together in a supportive ball, but they too smiled encouragingly.

“I can vouch for him,” Mike murmured. He tapped his nose. “Smells better. Cleaner,” to which Erwin gave an amused snort. The muscles in Annie’s back had also begun to loosen, though she still refused to take her eyes off her prey.

“Come now,” Erwin said. “Remember who the real enemy is here.”

Slowly, Eren reached out to take his hand.

It was dry, warm—so much like his father’s. Erwin smiled and if that didn’t seal the deal Eren didn’t know what would. Irwin could never smile like that. Never.

“Excellent. I look forward to working with you, Eren.” He said. “You’ve done marvelously so far, I must say.”

“I have?” Eren croaked.

“Indeed.” Erwin bounded to his feet, suddenly brimming with energy. “Yes! I’d even go so far as to say that ‘marvelous’ isn’t quite a strong enough word. You’re a marvel yourself, Eren. Truly.” To his horror Eren felt heat beginning to spread through his cheeks. “I worried when I heard that you and your family had stumbled through here. How could I not? So imagine my surprise when word travels that you managed to get a job out of my brother, of all things. Perhaps I should have sent in a human from the start, hmm?”

Petra flinched but Erwin quickly put a hand solidly down on her shoulder.

“Ah. That was cruel.” He murmured. “My apologies.”

“Oh fuck. You’re really not him.” Eren boggled at the way Petra relaxed under his hands.

“No, I’m not. Though I fear if we don’t hurry you’ll have us both to deal with soon enough.”

As one eight heads turned towards the door. Erwin nodded.

“He’s heading back even as we speak. I’d hoped that… but no. He’s looking for you.”

“Me?” Eren squeaked.

“Of course. The last few days haven’t been easy on you, have they, Eren? I fear they won’t get any easier just yet.” Erwin strode up even as Eren eased back, a part of him still wary. Erwin only touched a finger to Annie’s head though. She rose calmly into the air and a second later she was blonde, muscled, and familiar again, staring Erwin down with a glower that would fell any man, sorcerer or no.

“If you ever again…” Then she paused, pursed her lips. “You’re really against him then? Your own brother?” She asked.

“As much as I can be,” came the cryptic response. Eren opened his mouth—maybe to ask more questions, maybe just to cry—but Erwin brushed past him with a fearful energy that didn’t allow for any of it. He began running his hands along the rug, in between Corporal’s limbs, sometimes pounding gently at the floorboards beneath, all the while speaking with an authority that made Eren sit up and listen. There was no time for anything else.

“There’s no more time,” Erwin echoed. “You really have done fabulously, Eren, but I need you to keep pushing, just for a while longer.” With a soft cry of success he turned away from the floor. When Eren didn’t cringe away this time Erwin settled three fingers on the cap of his knee, feather-like.

“You can keep pushing,” he said. “You have that strength. I’ve already watched you surmount the insurmountable these last few days and by god, if I had any doubts they were blown away along with Annie’s prison. Do you have any idea the kind of determination—the love—it takes to break a set of magical bonds like that? And you didn’t even know Annie!” Erwin smiled, blindingly. “All that love for a stranger. I tremble at the thought of what you could accomplish for a friend. You’re quite the soldier, Eren.”

“I’m not a soldier,” came the immediate denial. Eren shook his head. Soldiers were strong, wise, and above all courageous; not a puny boy confused and half terrified out of his mind. A memory of shielding arms wielding double blades flew through Eren’s mind. Corporal was a soldier—someone who helped. Now who was supposed to help him?

“I’m not,” Eren whispered.

“You are,” Erwin fired right back. “You’re a fighter, in the most important sense of the word. You understand what many, including my brother, have always failed to learn: a soldier never fights alone. Petra?” Erwin’s voice melted seamlessly into a command.

“Sir?”

“You’ll go with him?” His gaze was sharp. “I can’t free you from my brother but I can loosen the hold just a bit, enough for you to leave the grounds of the bathhouse. I daresay, unless I’ve gone entirely blind you’ve grown rather fond of this boy, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Petra answered with a smile.

“Excellent. You’ll need that fondness more than your skills with a knife. Annie?”

Coolly she lifted her head. “I’m not leaving his side.”

“I never expected you to, my dear.”

“I’m not your ‘dear.’”

Felling numb, Eren reached out to grasp at the cuff of Annie’s pant leg. After the initial tension ran out of her body she looked down as Eren offered, “I don’t like being called ‘kid.’”

Her eyebrows drew in at the odd gesture of solidarity.

“I’ll steer clear of both terms then.” Erwin was at his brother’s desk now, passing hands over papers, baubles, things that whirled, and things that sparked when he got too close. He settled over a ceramic spider and made another soft sound of triumph. “You inspire trust, Eren.” He continued. “And you trust in turn. You trusted me, a mere disembodied voice, and for that I owe you another thanks. I’ve been trying to sneak into my brother’s quarters for decades.” It was with a sibling’s glee that Erwin tipped a precariously balanced instrument until it tumbled, shattering against the floor. “Oops. How clumsy of me.”

“You thank people a lot,” Eren murmured.

“Yes. I’m not my brother. You four,” Erwin raised his hand to Erd, Mike, Gunther, and Oluo. “I’ll need to knock you out. As far as you’re aware something took you by surprise. You don’t know what happened to Corporal, or Petra; you haven’t even entered the room where Annie was kept. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Mike replied. The three came forward to take Petra into a group hug. Oluo got a kiss on the cheek.

“Moving quickly now,” Erwin muttered and around him they drifted gently to the floor, unconscious. His finger, still glowing with magic, turned to point at Eren.

“The forest. You’ve seen it I presume? I live there, deep inside where my brother can’t follow. If you make it to the tree-line by nightfall I’ll be able to guide you the rest of the way; protect you. You hear me, Eren? You need to get there, not matter what it takes. We need you to finish this.”

Eren’s head nodded towards his knees. If felt too heavy, filled with too many questions; not enough answers. “You sound like that spirit,” he found himself muttering. “That crazy one. Dot.”

“Ah. Can’t say I’m terribly surprised. Dot and I go way back. I suppose it was only a matter of time before rubbed off on me…”

“But how,” Eren growled. “How! All of you keep telling me to do things but you don’t tell me how! Why don’t you give me something concrete for once in your fucking lives—like telling me HOW THE FUCK I’M SUPPOSED TO SAVE MY FRIEND.”

Behind him Petra had moved to grip his shoulders while Annie stood by his feet. Eren had his arms twisted awkwardly behind his back, refusing to let go of Corporal. The two of them were shaking.

Erwin just blinked at them. For once, he was the one who appeared confused.

“You… you’ve been doing it, Eren.” He said simply. “All along. Loving these people, helping them… I’m just asking you to continue. As for Corporal, he was never in any real danger, not with you around. If you want to save him…” Erwin’s eyes twinkled. “You’d do well to rein in that temper of yours. It might help you remember that nifty little bottle you’ve got tucked in your pants.”

Eren gasped and his hands tried to reach back around him, to capture what he’d forgotten. But at that moment Erwin twisted the spider on his brother’s desk, opening a trapdoor beneath them.

“Find me in the forest,” he said.

Eren felt the floor fly out beneath him, the four of them slipping through endless air, tumbling back to front. The last thing he saw was Erwin producing another paper titan and tearing it in two. With a smile and a nod of encouragement, he disappeared.

Eren fell.

Chapter Text

Eren fell long and fast.

He twisted sharply midway through the air, reaching out for something to grab onto, finding only scales. Petra and Annie fell below him, their voices dissipating before they could climb back up and reach Eren. But Corporal was there. His massive body filled the passageway and Eren kept twisting until he came parallel with his friend. Pushing against the wind that rushed by he grabbed hold of Corporal’s horns.

The moment he did Eren was sure they must have plunged into water. He tensed, held his breath… but no. There was no cold, no wet, nothing but the imagery of blue around him, dark bubbles and caches of seaweed floating by. It was like someone had taken the best that water had to offer, a visual paradise, and superimposed it over the darkness. Eren tried breathing—and he could breath. He forced a sound and heard it rushing by his ears. Fingers tightening around the horns, always holding fast, Eren and Corporal soared among the waves with a purpose that didn’t feel anything like falling, and as they did Eren realized that he really wasn’t afraid. Not of something like this. The weightlessness as he floated above Corporal’s back… the soothing rush of water along his limbs… there was nothing but exhilaration here.

Which informed Eren that it couldn’t possibly be real.

They crashed seconds later.

Petra hit first, letting out a scream that startled Sasha off her post. Connie came rushing in right as Annie tumbled out of the hatchway, staggering away from the blast of magic that broke her fall. Then came Eren and Corporal. The two employees manning the boiler room were left gapping as one human and one dragon proceeded to crash through the ceiling, rending it to pieces, and then decimated the rest of their workspace.

“Human, have you lost your mind?” Sasha shrieked even as Corporal’s tail lashed near her head. The spikes cut a neat tuft of bangs away and it was up to Connie to pull his stunned friend aside. Annie dragged Petra to safety even as Corporal continued to writhe against the endless collection of cupboards. Herbs and tokens of every imaginable type were cast into the air, only to fall back down on them like rain. The drop certainly seemed to have woken Corporal up again; instilled him with an energy that, while reassuring, wasn’t exactly helping any of them.

“Eren!” Annie called. “Get away from him.”

“Who’s Eren?” Came Connie’s baffled voice.

“The human.”

“Oh… oh yeah! Oh wow. How did we forget—?”

“Move!” Petra kicked Connie’s legs out from under him just as Corporal’s tail took another swipe. He landed hard on his ass but the violence saved his neck nonetheless. The four spirits continued to back up towards the boiler, all the while searching for the tiny human lost underneath a dragon’s colossal, struggling body.

For his part, Eren hadn’t been crushed yet. He dove beneath Corporal’s long neck even as he continued to knock his own head against the wall. Using the opened drawers as a makeshift ladder he climbed high enough to reach Corporal’s snout, the teeth gleaming white before him. Annie may have healed the superficial cuts he’d been dealt but whatever was still killing Corporal had caused new blood to spout over his gums, some of it running out through his nostrils. Eren grimaced at the sight even as he used one hand to keep steady while the other dropped to the elastic of his pants. There was the bottle, magically unbroken from the fall. It rested against his thigh with a familiarity that Eren couldn’t help but resent now. If he’d remembered it sooner…

“I’m sorry, Corporal,” he whispered. His apology was lost to the echoing growls his friend let loose. Eren pulled the cork out with his teeth and spat it far away. “I’m really, really sorry. But here. I’ve got it now. Here…”

Eren reached as far as he could. Corporal was opening his jaw in sporadic bursts, still emitting those howling sounds. All Eren needed to do was pour the mixture down his throat and then everything would be better.

He tilted the bottle… then stopped.

If he gave it all to Corporal, how would he ever heal his family?

Just as Eren hesitated a hot flash of pain cut across his cheek. It was the cut, Historia’s cut, acting as a brutal reminder. Eren didn’t need another. How stupid of him. His family was far off in a barn. Corporal was here. He could finally do something.

“This is going to taste like shit,” Eren said and poured the medicine straight down Corporal’s throat.

Whatever agony Corporal had been experiencing before, it increased threefold. Eren remembered the feeling well and he’d only had a sip. With the entirety of Dot’s fearsome concoction burning its way through Corporal’s stomach it was no surprise that his body tensed, warped, and then seized with a violence that shook Eren right off the wall; like swatting a fly. He fell directly onto Corporal’s snout and narrowly avoided having his fingers, if not his whole arm, snapped off. Corporal seemed to realize what had nearly happened—maybe the medicine was already kicking in—because he lowered them both to the ground as gently as his quivering body was able. Eren hung on, using the whole of his chest and the strength of his legs to keep that massive jaw closed. Corporal seemed determined to cough up the foul liquid and though Eren was sympathetic, that just wasn’t gonna happen.

“C’mon, Corporal.” Eren muttered, his own teeth vibrating with the thrashing. “C’mon. Don’t be an asshole about it, just swallow. C’mon. Just a few more seconds…” But then Eren felt arms snaking their way around his bare waist, Annie’s, finally succeeding in pulling him out of danger. As he was dragged backwards—hands along his shoulders now too, another pair grasping at his ankles—Corporal’s maw unhinged and he hawked, just like a cat letting loose a hairball. Eren shivered under a cold douse of fear. Corporal was rejecting the medicine, he was going to die… that is, until something that definitely wasn’t Dot’s mixture came flying out of his mouth. It landed with a clink against the floor, right smack in the middle of a group of soot-balls. They scurried away even as Eren and the others inched closer.

“What is it?” Connie whispered.

It was small, rectangular, gold, and had black markings on at least three of the sides that Eren could see. Beyond that though… he shrugged.

“It’s a seal,” Petra said. “I remember it used to sit on Irwin’s desk. At least, I think it’s a seal. The one time Gunther tried to use it—”

“No doubt he was punished.” Annie finished. “It is a seal in its most literal form but you’d be better off thinking of it as a vessel.” Her expression darkened so fast that Eren was compelled to pull away. He didn’t though, casting only a quick, worried glance at the now still Corporal before huddling even closer, maybe trying to offer comfort, maybe just hoping to receive it. Annie allowed the close contact either way; the lines of her face easing.

“It only used to be a seal,” she muttered. “Now it’s a storage container. For magic.” Her sneer grew. “How nice to know that I wasn’t the only source he was hoarding. At least he didn’t stuff me into something that size. Huh. I’ll admit though, I’ve never seen a vessel with markings like that bef—”

The markings moved.

Like a rubber band they stretched out and then snapped back together, forming a little black clump that poised itself amongst all the gold. Then it began dripping off the edge of the seal and Eren supposed that it must be ink of some kind… until it solidified into a body.

Surrounded by four spirits, a human, and nearly fifty soot-balls, a black slug with pin-prick eyes blinked up at them all.

“WHAT IS THAT? THAT THING? GET IT OUT OF MY BOILER ROOM.” Sasha’s voice reached a pitch Eren hadn’t thought possible. It certainly startled the slug. The thing dove amongst their feet in a panicked frenzy as Sash lunged for an open drawer. Eren saw the slug slither over Petra’s shoes and duck behind Connie’s left heel, he lost sight of it then, turned—and came eye to point with an arrow Sasha had nocked and had ready to loose.

“Woah!”

“Death to the squishy thing,” she hissed, pulling her bow back another inch.

“Shit, shit, shit, Sasha, just wait a second—” Eren took a step away, purely out of self-preservation, and something squashed underneath his bare foot.

It was the slug, now oozing out between his toes.

“Oh, ewwwwwww,” Eren moaned. He tried scraping it off against the dirt but it just ended up staining his skin. His friends just stood there ignoring his plight, Annie and Petra stunned, Sasha huffing with her arrow still nocked, only Connie’s hand steadying her.

“Don’t shoot his foot,” he squeaked.

“Yeah, no. Sasha! Don’t shoot me or my foot.” Eren’s eyes on Sasha, everyone else staring at him. It was just the moment of distraction the slug needed. It reformed with a tiny pop and shot for freedom.

Or rather, it shot straight at Corporal.

In the seconds it took for the slug to surmount the ledge and skim the remaining distance to Corporal’s body Eren had an insight he really could have done without. It was like the reverse of his dream: instead of a vision that felt too much like reality it was reality growing muddled, a sharper version of his fall into an ocean that wasn’t there. Eren saw a slug—not this slug because it hadn’t done these things yet, it was still a different slug—reach Corporal before anyone else could and it slithered back between his teeth. In a time lapse Eren watched as Corporal began to writhe again, contort, scream silently through the experience, and as he did his scales turned as black as the sludge that had invaded him. Only when all the blue and green of him was gone did Corporal lie still. Dead.

Eren pulled back into the now and whispered, “No.”

The slug had nearly cleared the ledge.

“KILL IT WITH FIRE!” Sasha screamed and loosed her arrow. It hit the slug dead on but it reformed almost instantly. Annie had taken the command to heart though and had obediently summoned another handful of fire. Eren forced his legs into a run.

Several things happened at once:

He jumped the ledge and skirted around Sasha’s arrow, Connie shot off a stone with a slingshot Eren hadn’t even seen him produce, he came within three feet of the slug, Connie’s shot went wide, two feet away, he heard Petra’s shout—“You’ll hit Corporal!”—and then the heat of Annie’s fire, still coming, unstoppable. Eren dropped and slammed his palm down on the slug just as the flames engulfed them both.

There was a cool tingle, like the pins and needles of a limb reawakening. Then the fire dispersed. The slug was gone.

“You did it,” Eren half-laughed. On his knees he tilted backwards until he could see Annie’s face. “Yes!”

She pursed her lips.

“No I didn’t,” Annie said.

Eren blinked at the slug-less floor. “But you—”

“No.” She shook her head. “I would have harmed you and your friend. I told the fire to cool right before it hit. It shouldn’t have hurt the curseling.”

“Curseling?” Connie asked. He gave his slingshot a kiss and tucked it into his back pocket.

“A curse, or in this case a poison that’s been given physical form. No doubt it latched onto your Corporal when he stole the seal. They’re despicable.”

Connie hesitated. “It was kinda cute looking though… or, you know, not.” He withered under Annie’s stare.

“Then how…?” Eren’s question was cut off by the arrival of Sasha. Slinging her bow over her back she took Eren’s hands between her longer ones and turned the right one over. There, a smear of black dotted Eren’s palm.

“Ew.” He groaned. “Again?”

“You did it,” Sasha crooned. Her manic energy had died down somewhat at their victory but now it rose once more in the form of excitement. “Human! You killed the evil sluggy thing! I’m so glad I kept you around.”

“We’ve been over this, Sasha. You kicked him out.” Connie said.

“Shuddup.”

“Not gonna do it, you can’t make me.”

“Oh really?” Sasha fingered her bow.

“Uh,” Eren interrupted. “Anyone want to explain this?”

Now that the danger seemed to have passed Eren became aware of just how grimy his palm felt. Not just dirty but somehow tainted. Seeing his expression Connie rushed over. As he made gagging noises at Eren’s hands Sasha shrugged.

“Love,” she said simply. Joining them Petra and Annie both nodded. “Just squashing icky things like that doesn’t work. Squashing out of fear or violence is even more useless.” Sasha frowned down at the arrow she’d tugged out of the floor. “I should have tied food to you.” She murmured to it. “Pure love. That would have done the trick.”

“Sasha.”

“But!” She cried. “You squashed it out of love for Corporal, and ta-da!” Sasha grabbed hold of his wrist, waving his hand as proof. Really disgusting proof.

“What are you even on about?” Connie snatched Eren’s hand for himself.

“Love.” Sasha sniffed. “Something you wouldn’t recognize.”

“Oh ha. Like you’re such an expert, Mrs. I’m-So-In-Love-With-My-Dinner.”

“Dinner is GREAT don’t dis DINNER, you—”

Eren stared desperately out at Annie. Annie turned to Petra.

“Are they always like this?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Fantastic.”

Petra’s sigh was lost amidst all the bickering.

“Evil be gone!” Connie shouted, making Eren jump. While distracted he’d made a circle out of Eren’s fingers, only to then cut through them with his own. He grinned triumphantly.

“There,” he said. “Now you’re all clean.”

“Except he’s not.” Sasha scoffed.

“No I’m not,” Eren agreed. He held up his still blackened palm. Connie spluttered.

“Well I… you know… meant it… spiritually?”

“What idiocy are you spouting, we are spirits, ding-dong head.”

“I don’t know okay, I read it in a book.”

“A book! Oh for—”

Eren rolled his eyes and decided to just wipe his palm on Connie’s pants. He didn’t notice. He and Sasha were still shouting when Eren got to his feet and then paused, his bare foot nearly stepping on a bottle, one that clearly didn’t belong among Sasha and Connie’s things.

It was small and now intimately familiar. Dot’s medicine. Gingerly Eren took it into his palm, warring emotions of relief and disappointment clouding him. He’d never regret giving it to Corporal but now that there was none left for his family he simply didn’t know how he’d change them back.

Except…

Except that there was still a tiny puddle at the very bottom. Just enough, perhaps, for two adults and a very small child.

Snatching a nearby rag Eren re-plugged the top, hardly daring to think on the possibilities. Instead he hid the bottle in behind his back and went to join Annie and Petra around Corporal.

He was breathing much easier now, slow and steady, with a faint steam issuing from his nostrils. Petra was busy tucking Corporal’s form around itself so he appeared to be a coiled snake, warm and sleepy.

“He’ll be okay then?” Eren whispered. Annie nodded.

“Yes. He’s lucky. Let him sleep as long as he needs and when he wakes he’ll be the friend you remember.”

Annie smiled, maybe for the first time since Eren had met her. “By the way,” she added. “Good job.”

Chapter Text

The relief of hearing that Corporal would pull through was beyond immense, as was the joy. In order to avoid collapsing back on his knees Eren forced himself to take numerous, stumbling steps forward as Annie let him go. The damage Corporal had done to the boiler room was extensive and Eren picked his way around spilled tokens, books, towels, and shoes; an entire drawer that had come tumbling out and scattered a collection of comics. From his peripheral vision Eren saw Petra smiling at him. Connie and Sasha’s argument dwindled and then cut off completely. The room was silent.

Then Eren spotted it: a puddle of blue fabric half hidden under some pots and pans. It was one of the blankets he’d tugged over Sasha—or maybe Connie—seemingly ages ago now. Picking it up Eren found that it was still soft and warm, even if it did now smell kinda dusty. Stifling a sneeze he padded over and lay the blanket up near Corporal’s head.

“There you go,” Eren muttered thickly. Beside him, Petra covered a light laugh.

“Yes. I’m sure that will keep him very warm.” The square cloth couldn’t have covered more than a thirtieth of Corporal’s bulk.

“Oh shut it.” There was no heat in Eren’s words though. The five of them took a moment to just stand silently over their friend. The six of them breathed together.

“We need to keep moving.” Annie’s voice cut across the trace. Eren shook himself awake.

“The day is getting on,” she said. “It will be dusk before you know it.”

Sasha shot her a skeptical look. “I don’t know if you missed this little tidbit but Irwin controls night and day around here. Super annoying. And, uh, who are you anyway?”

Annie ignored her. “After losing his seal and, more importantly, losing me, Irwin will have to conserve his magic. Time isn’t a priority anymore; he’s already let it go. I felt the change a while back.” She spared a brief glance for Sasha. “There. That’s a ‘tidbit’ for you.”

“Hey! You can just skitter on out of my boiler room, Miss Cheek!” Connie held her firmly by the shoulders.

“Hey, human?” He heaved. “Some info, yeah? What’s going on…?”

Eren ran a hand wearily over his eyes. As he did the dream-cut gave a faint twinge. It didn’t sting nearly as much though and it felt as if it had firmly scabbed over. He and Corporal both were healing.

Eren wondered, briefly, if he should ask about Krista. Whatever secrets she was keeping seemed pretty low priority now though. They’d have to wait until they got back from Erwin’s.

If they got back.

“Umm… it’s kinda a long story?” Eren eventually said. Why had that come out as a question? It was definitely a long story. Eren held up his fingers to tick off some points. “Okay. Basically the short of it is: Irwin was holding Annie hostage for her magic, I freed her, Irwin apparently has a twin brother, he freed Petra—mostly—Corporal stole this seal, I guess, which had other magic in it, so now Irwin isn’t as powerful—we think—and now the four of us need to get to the forest and… do something?” Eren shook his head at Petra.

“Yes,” she agreed simply. “We’ll do something.”

Connie was catching flies even as Sasha went limp in his arms. “Oh. That makes perfect sense.”

“No it doesn’t, Dumbo!”

“I was being sarcastic—c’mon!”

As the two started up again Petra came and lay a hand briefly on Eren’s shoulder. “Whether dusk comes or not, you’ll want clothes before we head out,” she said.

“Right.”

The soot-balls, poor things, had been a mess of nerves since they’d come crashing through the ceiling. Now though they’d made a little nest in the far corner and as Eren crept closer he heard what could only be described as constant giggling. They’d formed the approximation of a circle and two of the soot-balls stood in the middle, waving their teeny tiny arms. Eren thought they were dancing at first, until he saw one hold up two fingers while the other solemnly cut through them. The one doing the cutting triumphantly held up his hands even as his friend shook his head; the rest of the soot-balls tittered.

“Are you meant to be me then?” Eren asked. The one wearing a theatrically grumpy face turned into all smiles. He nodded. “Well you’re super good. And you make a great Connie.”

“Don’t give them ideas!” Came a strangled call behind him. Eren gave a little laugh with all the others.

“Yeah, sorry to break up the fun but can I have my shoes again? Oh! And my clothes too. Uh, do you know where they are?” Shit. Magic and curses aside, Eren’s life would truly be in danger if he came out of all this only to tell Mom that he’d somehow lost his clothes… Last he remembered Hanji had been undressing him just a night… no. Two nights ago? A while. Too long.

“Hanji?” Eren tentatively suggested and all the soot-balls nodded enthusiastically. They were just running towards their cubby holes when a crash sounded outside of the boiler room.

Speak of the devil…

“HUMAN!”

Hanji tore open the side door and thrust her head through. Her glasses sat skewed on the top of her head while her hair bushed up around it. It looked like she’d taken a serious tumble… or had been searching frantically for someone. Eren thought then and there that he was experiencing the definition of conflicting emotions: the desire to run and see Hanji after all he’d been through, coupled with the equal desire to keep far, far away from anyone that looked that crazed. Too late. She caught sight of Eren and her pupils blew wide.

“Hi, Hanji.” Eren peeped.

“There you are! I have been looking everywhere for—is that a dragon?” Hanji went from manic to befuddled in two seconds flat. She pointed an accusing finger at Corporal.

“Yep,” Annie said, popping the ‘p.’

“Who are you?”

“It’s a long story.” Eren nearly went into a fit of hysterical giggles when he realized that the five of them had said it simultaneously. Hanji blinked.

“Listen, Hanji, sorry.” Eren said. “But I don’t have time. We need—”

“Oh you definitely have time, human.” From manic to befuddled to dead serious. Hanji’s expression lost all humor. She squeezed her way into the boiler room and sat crossed-legged on the ground. “Irwin is looking for you. He’s pissed. Like… like…” Hanji shivered.

“Like last time we disobeyed him and he hung us broken on a tree?” Petra asked.

“Yeah. Like that.”

Eren swallowed. “Then he knows about Annie.”

“Annie?” Hanji’s face scrunched in confusion even as Annie herself gave a little wave. “No. Remember that guest I told you about? Yeah, not so nice anymore now is he? The gold was cool at first but now he’s started eating us! And he’s demanding to see you, human, so I’d hoof it upstairs before Irwin blows the place apart looking for you.”

“Armin,” Eren groaned. He turned back to the soot-balls. “Clothes,” he demanded. “Now.”

They squeaked affirmatives and ran.

“They’re in my closet!” Hanji called after them.

“Gold.” Connie whispered. “Gold! Did you get us any, Hanji?”

Sasha was scowling. “You see? THIS is what I mean by slave labor. We do five times the amount of work in this place but do we hear about GOLD down here? No. Does anyone bother telling us? Noooooo.”

“I tried to get you some,” Hanji whined. “But he ate everyone who got close.”

“Coward.”

“Am not!”

Connie pouted. “Not even a tiny piece? C’mon.”

“Who’s Armin?” Petra asked.

“ENOUGH!”

They all jumped at Eren’s shout. Only Annie raised an eyebrow, looking bored.

“Armin’s the guest,” Eren grit out. “The one… being bad. I need to talk to him. Before we leave.”

“You know him?” Hanji’s mouth swung open. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know who he was at the time!”

“You know the guy eating everyone?” Sasha snickered a bit. “Oh man, of course you do.”

Eren narrowed his eyes. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means if I don’t stop you children now we’ll never get out of here,” Annie stepped forward, clearly taking command. She addressed them all as one unit. “What’s the fastest way to get to the forest?”

“Forest…?” Hanji started to ask but Annie glared. Hanji was left huffing in frustration before she finally sniped, “Boat!”

“A boat?”

“Well yeah. Irwin turned this place to soup, didn’t he? I’ve got one tucked away somewhere.” They all stared. “What? Don’t you guys like boats?”

“Not particularly,” Eren sighed. “And when we cross the water? What then?”

“That’s really what I’m asking,” Annie murmured even as Petra nodded.

“The forest,” she said. “We’ve, that is, Corporal and the rest of us, we spent a great deal of time there before…” She lifted her hands, encompassing the bathhouse and all the experiences that were tied to it. “I know it well but it’s deceptive. The size of the trees makes the forest itself appear smaller than it actually is. Once you’re down on the ground you could spend days, weeks even, trekking about and getting almost nowhere if you don’t know where you’re going. I’ve been to Erwin’s house once before and I swear to you, it’s not a place we’d reach easily in a day, let alone a few hours if we’re on foot.”

The party stood in silence for a long time. Then, suddenly, Connie snapped his fingers.

“Then don’t travel on the ground!” he cheered and dove into the pile of stuff Corporal had thrown about.

“Is he…?” Eren asked but Sasha only shrugged in defeat. Raising a hand she twirled fingers near her ponytail a couple times before drawing in a deep, deep breath. By now they all had the presence of mind to cover their ears before she screamed,

“HEY, WALNUT-HEAD. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I’m helping, Sasha, jeez!”

“Helping. HELPING? Uh huh. Mind running that by me again?”

Connie’s shaved head popped up from behind an upturned drawer. He held a sock in one hand and pliers in the other. “I’m looking for something, okay? Just hold on.”

“‘Hold on,’ he says. I’ll hold on to your—”

Hanji jumped over Connie and came to a skidding stop next to Eren. She landed with her hands on her hips, sporting an impressive glower.

“Want to tell me what’s going on, human? You know, something about the random new people you’ve met and you saying you’re heading into the forest and the dragon sleeping over there—which, way cool, but still—and did I mention there’s a really pissed off sorcerer looking for you?” For all her bravado Eren could tell Hanji was legitimately worried. She kept rocking forward and back on her heels like she was toying with the idea of just picking him up and carting him off somewhere. It wasn’t an all-together unpleasant option.

Surprising himself and clearly surprising Hanji, Eren stepped forward until he was flush against her chest. Her arms immediately wrapped around his bare shoulders.

“Oh, human,” she cooed. “Long day, huh?”

Eren nodded. Pressing his face against the clean fabric of her shirt he breathed deeply, letting the air out in a rush that warmed her skin. For a moment—just one moment—Eren let his limbs truly relax, his arms dangling and swaying ever so slightly, his legs held up by Hanji’s knees. Eren closed his eyes. The only part of him moving now was his mouth and it took him a long time to realize he was forming words. There, with the other four giving them space, Eren told a story for Hanji only: about looking for and failing to find Krista, finding Corporal instead, bloodied and half mad from the papers’ attacks; the trip into Irwin’s office, freeing Annie, learning of Erwin; the decent back down here and the recovery that had drained him almost as much as the fear. Eren told it all and when he was done he felt empty. That too wasn’t an all-together unpleasant feeling.

“Well fuck.” Hanji said.

“Yeah… fuck sorta sums it up.”

Hanji pulled Eren backwards and the rush of air where body heat at previously been made him shiver. “I don’t know whether to hug you,” she said, “or slap you silly. I’ll settle for this,” and without further ado Hanji leaned down to smack a kiss against Eren’s forehead.

He squirmed. “Aw. C’mon, Hanji.”

“Your clothes are here.”

The soot-balls had indeed returned. They came in squeaking, triumphantly holding up shoes, shirt, and shorts. They looked freshly washed and Eren pulled them on with a relish that had nothing to do with their fresh scent. Just having his old clothes back on gave him some strength. After tying his laces Eren tilted back on his heels and smacked the tips of his sneakers together, oozing satisfaction. Dot’s bottle was tucked safely away in his pocket.

It was while he was fiddling with his shirt that the cry came.

“Found it!”

Connie surfaced for air, dusty and trying to blow off a speck of paper that had adhered to his nose. In his arms he carried what appeared to be a collection of metal and leather scraps. He dumped the whole mess at Eren’s feet and then plopped himself down, pulling out a tiny bottle of oil and spritzing a corner.

“Wanna explain this, genius boy?” Despite her dark tone Sasha stepped forward curiously, as did the rest of them. Connie was too engrossed to toss a barb back. After a bit more tweaking and squeaking he grasped two of the straps and held it all up so that it formd a semi-recognizable shape.

“It’s like some kind of suit,” Eren said. He could see where a person’s shoulders would be situated and there was a strap that could only be buckled around the waist. There were also two large, rectangular containers hanging—and surely straining Connie’s arms—that looked as if they settled on the outer side of either hip. Connie grinned.

“It is a suit,” he said. “A 3d-MG suit – three dimensional maneuver gear. I’ve been working on it for years, man. Look. Look here.” Excitedly, Connie picked up a connecting wire that had been pooling in his lap. At the end of it was a lever of some kind that fit snugly in the palm of his hand. “It’s all connected, see? Our bodies, our limbs and extremities, they don’t move independently. Not totally. So why should this? It’s all one unit, responding to you, your body’s natural movement enhanced to the one-hundredth degree. Cool bit of magic I wove in there, wouldn’t you say? Cool right? Techno-magic and animating soot. That’s the extent of my power, guys.” The soot-balls who hadn’t run off to fetch clothes cheered. “But this baby…” Connie’s fingers stroked lovingly over the handle. “I’ve been tuning her for decades. Totally in synch. So when you do this—”

He pulled the trigger and something shot out from a nearly invisible side-pocket. It whizzed through the air and Eren felt the puff of it soaring directly by his ear. He stood stock still, trembling, even as he heard the crunch of it hitting the wall behind him. Blindly, Eren pointed at whatever it was while glaring at Connie’s perfect ‘o’ of a mouth.

“That could have been my head,” Eren hissed.

“…Oops?”

Petra came trotting back with the projectile, winding up the connecting cord. It was a small but sturdy clasp, one tong still holding on to a bit of the wall’s plaster. Eren eyed it pointedly.

Sasha poked it. “Is it a weapon?” She asked. Eren said ‘yes’ at the same time Connie went ‘no.’

“It’s really not!” He flailed slightly. “Sorry, man. Sorry, sorry. It’s not supposed to take anyone’s head off, just attach to things.”

“Well it certainly did that,” said Annie.

Hanji frowned. “Well what for?”

“To fly of course.” Connie was grinning again. “See? There’s one on each side. The harness keeps your weight perfectly leveled and by attaching these hooks into nearby objects you pull yourself—soar really—through the air. If these babies can break through concrete I’m sure they could handle a few trees. Just use this and you’ll be through the forest before you know it. Ah, well…”

“‘Well’?” Petra nudged.

“Theoretically,” Connie admitted. He scrubbed at the back of his head. “I’m never uh, actually… tested it.”

Sasha slapped a hand over her face. “Of course you haven’t.”

“What are the slots for?” Annie ran a finger over one of the four openings. They were thin, no thicker than just an inch or two. Connie was practically bouncing in place.

“Swords,” he breathed. “Like the ones Corporal carries. Can you imagine? You’re flying through the air and then—” He made a series of exaggerated slashing movements, complete with clanging sound effects. “Like you’re engaging in battle!”

“No.” Sasha said.

“Aww c’mon…”

“Absolutely not,” Petra agreed. Eren took a wary step away from Connie.

“Oh! Shit, one more thing.” Connie scrambled and dove head first back into the mess. Eren saw him accidentally tread over one of Corporal’s claws but he didn’t even stir. After a minute Connie returned with two gas tanks tucked under his arms.

“One for each side,” he explained. “But there’s only enough for one trip.”

“A trip there and back?” Eren asked hopefully.

Connie shook his head. “I don’t know how deep in the forest this brother guy lives but unless he’s right on the outskirts, you’ll have to walk back. Sorry, man.”

“And I can only take the boat one way.” Hanji said. She shrunk slightly when Eren rounded on her. “It’s all fine for you lot to go off but me…” her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t just leave, human. Not for long anyway.”

“She’s right.” Annie said. “I’m free now and Erwin loosened his brother’s hold on Petra. As for you, he’s never had complete control over you, that much is clear. Even more so since you… reclaimed a certain bit of information.”

His name. Eren nodded.

“The three of us are the only ones capable of making the trip. Except maybe for him,” Annie pointed lazily towards Corporal. “But he’s in no condition to be moving.”

“Fine.” Eren swallowed, working around a dry throat. “We’ll walk back then and...” He swallowed again. “We’ll swim. If we have to.”

Hanji’s hand settled over his shoulder.

“Looks like someone’s trying to get your attention,” she murmured.

Eren looked down. There was an especially small soot-ball tugging impatiently at a bit of his shoelace. Seeing that he’d finally gained Eren’s attention he squeaked happily, gesturing for him to bend down.

“What is it?” Tentatively extending a finger Eren let out a similar squeak when the soot-ball grasped it and gave what could only be described as a very fuzzy hug. Within seconds he had hundreds of the little guys all swarming his feet, clasping at whatever part of him they could reach. He spotted one giving the toe of his shoe a wet kiss.

“You’ve totally corrupted them,” Connie lamented. Then he sighed. “Alright. Not to be the downer here but you say all three of you are going? That’s not gonna work.” He shook his gear as emphasis. “Maybe one of you could get carried around, but three? Nah uh. Not happening.”

“That’s easily fixed.” Annie and Petra shared a look, one that the rest of them couldn’t easily decipher. That is, until Annie lifted a hand and the two of them began to shrink together. When the bit of smoke they’d stirred up had cleared Annie was once again a mouse, the same kind that Erwin had turned her into, while Petra was an even tinnier bird. No larger than a quarter, she climbed up Annie’s back and Annie in turn scrambled up Eren’s leg. She settled on his shoulder, all haughty indifference.

“Or, yeah, just turn yourself into animals.” Connie muttered. “That works too.”

Hanji grinned. “I think they’re adorable.”

Sasha groaned. Muttering something about more filthy creatures in her boiler room she swung herself back up on her ledge. Fiddling with a dial here and there she eventually turned to peer back down at them.

“You’d best get up there, human boy,” she said. Her face was about as serious as Eren had ever seen it. “I didn’t like getting woken up in the middle of the day but I’ll tell ya, one minute I’m sending up enough water to wash an army… the next? Nothing. And there’s been nothing since you guys destroyed my ceiling.” Sasha cast a disgusted look around only to smile sadly a second later. “Whatever that friend of yours is up to, it’s not good.”

“No. It’s not.” Hanji agreed. “C’mon, human.” Face like stone she took Eren by the wrist, pulling him away even as Connie and the soot-balls waved sadly. Sasha gave an odd little salute.

“You’ll watch over him?” Eren called desperately and everyone nodded. He dipped, moving the hand that had been keeping Annie and Petra balanced, brushing lightly against Corporal’s head. Eren wanted him to open his eyes, even for just a moment, to say something, anything…

But then he was pulled away—he, Hanji, Petra, and Annie—pulled through the tiny door. Off to see Irwin. Of all things.

Eren closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

Chapter Text

The journey upstairs was made in dead silence. Hanji’s hand became slicker in his as they mounted the stairs, took the elevator up four floors, then five, then six. Eren compulsively used his other hand to stroke between Annie’s fur and Petra’s feathers. Whatever humor they’d found in the boiler room was long gone. Eren’s thoughts flit among fears and hopes, worry and praise, images of flying and swimming, of magic and friends, all of it crashing down on him together. Mostly though, he thought of Armin.

Eren took a shuddering breath just as the elevator dinged.

“Want me to come with you?” Hanji asked.

Too late to make a decision—selfless or selfishness? The scream of “SHIFTER!” came echoing off the walls, knocking the four of them backwards with the force of its fury. Again Eren felt his limbs being bound; again he was dragged through the air, leaving a stricken Hanji behind. Faster than ever before Eren was tossed into Irwin’s presence, literally skidding and rolling to end up at his feet. Grimly Eren worked his way back up, getting shaking legs underneath him. After the day he’d had he was going to have bruises. Lots of them.

Still, there was satisfaction in the fact that the ache Eren felt all over—in his limbs and around his heart—was nothing to how Irwin looked. Gone was the collected man of means. Irwin stood hunched now, one arm wrapped around his gut like he’d developed a stitch. His previously clean-cut shirt was pulling loose from his pants and a sheen of sweat glinted across his brow. Irwin was heaving; he looked scared.

“I haven’t been having a good day, Shifter.” The words hissed out between Irwin’s teeth. Combined with his unconscious swaying he became a snake, one poised to strike at any moment. Eren crept back a step.

“Do you know why my day has been so bad, Shifter?”

“No.” Eren mumbled. He wished that Irwin would stop saying his not-name.

“Shifter.” It came again. “I’ve lost something valuable today—no. Except I haven’t, have I? Lost it, that is. It was stolen from me. No doubt by your precious Corporal. Playing me like a fool; pretending to finally be dead! Do you have any idea what I’ll do to him when I find him?”

Eren did. He didn’t know if Irwin was referring to a stolen seal or a stolen Annie—likely both, given the labor of his breath, the energy it had obviously taken just to magically drag Eren here—but the punishment for stealing either would be the same. Eren nodded, so hard he nearly rocked his friends right off his shoulder.

“Good,” Irwin said. His lips pulled back from his teeth. “Excellent. Then know that this is exactly what I will do to you if you don’t make my day better.”

A long pause came. Then, eyes wide, Irwin cupped a hand around his ear.

“How can I make your day better?” Eren monotoned.

“Better…?”

It came out cutting: “Sir.”

“Ah. I’m so very glad you asked, Shifter. You can help by getting rid of that.”

Irwin pointed to a side room and for the first time Eren noticed that they had an audience. Silent and shivering, spirits huddled in the middle space between the door and their boss, unwilling to get too close to either. Whatever “that” was, it was scary. Whatever was hidden away, it terrified these workers just as much as Irwin did.

That couldn’t possible be Armin. Right?

Hanji had said he’d been eating people…

“That.” Irwin said the word like a title, a horrible new name. “That has eaten nearly all the food in our stores. Its wasted a whole night’s worth of water. It ate a handful of my employees.” Irwin didn’t even pretend to be worried about them as individuals. This was a loss of commodity. His fingers fisted into his already wrinkled shirt and there was a drop of saliva on his chin. “That thing has made a very bad day even worse, Shifter, but you’ll be the one to fix things. Do you know why?”

Irwin lurched forward, moving his hands from his own shirt to Eren’s. He didn’t seem to notice that he’d reclaimed his human clothes. Eren didn’t think Irwin was seeing much of anything at all, at least beyond a red haze of panic. It was reflected in the veins around his eyes.

“You let him in.” It was an accusation. A question. “That thing says you let him in, Shifter.”

“Yes.” Eren answered.

“Why?”

‘Because he’s my friend,’ was what he meant to say. ‘A friend. Something you’ll never fucking have. I wanted him warm and dry. I wanted him to have company.’ But now Eren was realizing that the kindest thing he could have done for any friend of his was to tell them to keep far, far away. To run.

What spilled out of Eren’s lips instead was, “Armin.”

“What.” Irwin’s eyes narrowed.

“His name is Armin,” Eren spat. “Not ‘thing.’ Not ‘that.’ You can’t just—”

Irwin’s hands jumped from Eren’s collar to his throat. There was only a brief, hot pressure though before Irwin pulled back with a cry. Near the first knuckle on his right hand there was a ruby-read droplet. Annie had sunk her teeth gleefully into his flesh, hitting near the exact same spot where Erwin had taken a hit. Before Irwin hid the wound away in his handkerchief Eren spotted a deep scratch nearby. Looking he found Petra with a tiny talon extended, her round body puffed with rage.

“What are those things?” Irwin roared.

“You don’t recognize them?” Luckily Eren’s thoughtless question was drowned out by a shout that came from behind the door. Eren nearly jumped out of his skin, a cry of, “HUMAN. I WANT THE HUMAN,” assaulting him in a voice he didn’t recognize. The other spirits did though. They cowered, their tense postures assuring Eren that this was far from the first time such a cry had come.

Irwin knotted the handkerchief violently at the base of his wrist. “You will go in there, Shifter,” he said. “And you will make him leave. But before you do you will suck every last bit of gold from that gelatinous creature that you can. I’ll have enough to recover from your mischief or I swear, I’ll have your head as payment instead.” A wicked, insane glint wormed into Irwin’s eyes. “I’ll have four heads I think. Three titans and a human boy’s. Or maybe I’ll change your precious family back just so you can see their expressions right before I shove the spikes beneath their chins. Or maybe I’ll let them stay titans for all eternity. Maybe I’ll have them eat you.” Irwin was frothing now, his whole body shaking. “OR MAYBE I’LL JUST EAT THEM MYSELF; A FINE CUISINE, DON’T YOU THINK? GO, SHIFTER. GO NOW.”

Eren ran, his breath short and sweat breaking out along his back. Any place was better than here. With one hand keeping Annie and Petra balanced he shouldered his way through the spirits, none of them particularly willing to get in his way. There was a clear path to that door and Eren took it, diving through on skinned knees. It slammed shut behind him.

The room was in many ways like the one that housed the big tub. It had walls but no ceiling, just the barest illusion of privacy. A foot or so away Eren could hear the murmuring that had started up as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. He had little interest in what those spirits were gossiping about though. All of his focus was on Armin.

He’d grown larger since Eren had last seen him, if that were even possible. Sitting amongst a mountain of plants, saucers, and bowls, he clicked an empty pair of chopsticks in one hand while the other balanced a massive book. Both were dropped when Eren rolled into the room. The book went tumbling, unheeded, into a half-finished tub of chicken where it floated amongst the gravy.

“Hello, friend.” Armin said.

Eren could only nod a greeting back. It was Armin all right but it didn’t sound like him. No more ‘ah ah’s and softer, gentler sounds. Whoever’s voice he’d acquired had too bossy a tone for the quiet-manner spirit, and his body… it wasn’t just the unnaturalness of his growth that had Eren drawing back. He looked intimidating in his size, hands now splayed over enough blubber that he could squash Eren flat with the simplest gesture. There had been moments, especially back on the bridge, when Eren had thought that Armin could truly be a threat if he’d wanted, a combination of intelligence and a silent frustration. He’d never been scary though, not like now, with his maw gaping at Eren and two rows of soiled teeth protruding. Armin noted his hesitance.

“Don’t be scared.” He said. “Don’t! I’ve been waiting a long time for you. You said you’d come back and you did for a while but then you left again…” Armin frowned and drew one hand near his head, like it hurt. His movements, the churning of his body, all of it was slow now, senseless and stupid looking. Armin pulled himself out of his trance with difficulty.

“Do you want food?” He gestured sluggishly to the piles of half-eaten dishes. “Or gold!” His palms filled with it, easily the quickest thing he’d done so far. “I’m not giving it to anyone else, you know. It’s just for you.”

“No thank you, Armin.” Eren murmured. It felt like a long time since he’d cried but Eren wanted to weep now looking at his friend.

“You’re sick.” He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until Armin frowned again.

“No I’m not.” He said. “Friend, I’m better than I’ve ever been. There’s food, and company, and you.” His head twirled as he tried to smile, twisting nearly three hundred and sixty degrees. “Why would I be sick?”

Eren could feel Annie stiffening on his shoulder and Petra expanding like a defensive puffer-fish. When Armin extended the handful of gold he had to settle a finger on top of them both to keep them from attacking him as they had Irwin.

Eren swallowed. “I told you before, I don’t want gold. But… I do want to apologize…”

“Apologize?” Armin’s voice squeaked, almost as if he’d never heard the word before. That’s not what caught Eren’s attention though. It was the type of squeak he’d given: not like a mouse’s but more of a croak.

Like a frog’s.

“Did… did you eat Moblit?” Eren whispered. Something horrifying cold settled in his stomach.

“Moblit?”

“Yes, Moblit!” Eren cried. “He’s my friend too, okay? Fuck, Armin, you can’t just eat people! You can’t walk around here just… just…” Eren gestured furiously around at the room. “Eating everything. What’s wrong with you?”

Armin surged forward. His mouth opened even larger and a drop of burning saliva fell on the top of Eren’s shorts. The rest of him quivered and the gold, which he’d still been hanging onto hopefully until now, scattered into dust.

“I don’t know,” Armin hissed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Friend. If I did maybe I could fix it and then the rest of them would like me. Or maybe they’d just leave me alone. Do you think that would work?” His head twisted painfully again, round and round. “They’re all so mean, Friend. For decades and centuries and millenniums. All the other spirits; so mean. No baths for Armin. No food. No company—and I was too much of a coward to demand it. I sat with my books and no one bothered me, even though sometimes I wanted them too. Even when they were mean. Anything, anything at all. I’m lonely, Friend. So lonely. But then you let me into the bathhouse. You said you’d come back and you did.” Armin blinked. “… But then you left again. You left, Friend. I wanted to give you things because I like you. Ha. Ha ha. Isn’t it funny? I like you so much and I thought YOU LIKED ME!”

Armin’s voice rose to a staggering pitch, half laughing and half howling. His arms shot forward to corner Eren on either side, his bulk shivering with too much emotion. Eren, in contrast, held quite still.

“So is that it, Friend?” Armin seethed. “Are you done? Did you come to apologize for letting me in?”

Eren shook his head.

“No, Armin. I came to apologize for leaving you alone.”

The spirit’s face sagged like dough. The rest of his body followed. “…What?”

“I’m sorry,” Eren repeated. “For leaving you. And, uh, for yelling at you and stuff. Earlier. There was a lot of shit going on and a friend was, you know, dying and stuff… but I guess that’s not really an excuse, huh? So. Um. Sorry.”

“What?” Armin said again. “… Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you apologize for those things? They’re such normal things.”

Eren’s face scrunched. “They’re—? No. No they’re not. Shit, Armin. It’s… it’s because I do like you, okay? We’re friends… Right?”

The last came out tentatively. Armin only twisted his head some more, his body still shivering unnaturally in the warm room. He looked ill—all wide eyes and pale gums, his blonde hair sticking out every which way from what might have been sweat. Worst of all, Eren didn’t think that Armin was actually seeing him anymore, not really. Since his bout of screaming he’d immediately shrunk back, as if he feared the soft words Eren was speaking now a lot more than the abuse he’d been spewing earlier.

Blame Armin? Sure.

Demand that he leave? Definitely.

Shove him aside? Normal.

It all seemed so normal to him.

So normal, in fact, that he was willing to forgive Eren for all that more than he was willing to believe that he’d been at fault. Even now Armin shrunk back at Eren’s question—willing to use the term “friend” but not, apparently, have it given in turn—while simultaneously extending his hands. They again filled with gold.

“Friend,” he said and gave a funny, croaking laugh. Eren winced to hear Moblit in there, somewhere.

“Are you sure you don’t want gold?” Armin insisted. His eyes were glazed.

“No.” Eren murmured. “No gold but… but maybe you can do something else for me?”

He felt sick at how quickly Armin nodded.

Or maybe that was sickness at the thought of what he was about to do? A little bit of both. Definitely both, if he was being honest. Petra seemed to get at what Eren was thinking because she fluttered down into his pocket and began trying to tug out what was hidden inside, her teeny-tiny wings fluttering. Annie, four times her size, scrambled down and between the two of them they succeeded in handing Eren Dot’s wine bottle.

“Thanks,” he said and wanted to add, ‘I think.’

Didn’t this have to mean something about him? Something awful? Here Eren was, lost in a place where his sole purpose was to regain his family… and he kept throwing away his options. But even that—calling it ‘throwing away’—that was awful all on it’s own. Was Corporal more important than his mother? No. Was his father more important than Armin? No. They weren’t comparable anymore, just like Eren couldn’t stick Mikasa next to Hanji and say, ‘You. I love you more.’ But that’s sort of what this felt like. Wasn’t who he chose to give the medicine to a statement all its own?

Eren didn’t know. All he did know was that his family was far away and Armin was right here, right now, here because of him, swaying and sweating and smiling in a way that made Eren’s stomach churn. It took him three tries to open the bottle.

“This sucks,” Eren whispered before raising his voice to ask, “Armin. Will you drink this for me?”

His friend surged forward eagerly.

He had thought back in the boiler room that the remaining drops were just enough for three people, specifically two adults and a smaller child. Armin was monstrous though and the last thing Eren wanted was to give him enough medicine that it hurt but not enough to heal. He rose on tiptoe and prepared to pour the rest down his friend’s mouth. At the last second though, he paused.

“Armin.” Eren ordered. “Get rid of the gold.”

The second batch he’d summoned dissolved instantly. The last thing Eren wanted was to leave any lying around for Irwin.

That was it; that was better. Think about Irwin: hovering outside, just as sick as Armin but all from his own doing—greedy and scheming. Eren grit his teeth and clutched at that anger. He let it surge through him freely.

“Armin? We’re going on a trip.” His friend didn’t answer. His eyes were glued to the bottle that Eren was offering and he noticed, far in the back, that the book Armin had summoned was turning to dust, coating the chicken in a grey film. “You’re going to drink this and then follow me, alright?”

“Follow,” Armin murmured. His voice creaked. “Follow Friend?”

“Yes.”

Armin nodded and Eren tossed the medicine, bottle and all, into his mouth.

The effect was instantaneous, as it had always been. One moment Armin’s girth was rumbling only like something upset—a minor sickness—the next it bulged outward with a violence that had Eren skittering away. He felt Petra and Annie crying out but their tiny voices were drowned in Armin’s own scream, his voice silencing whatever talk had been going on outside. His arms pulled inwards, his torso dipped, and just when it looked like he might explode Irwin slammed into the room.

“Shifter—” he started and that’s when Armin vomited a good portion of the food he’d eaten.

Eren didn’t have time to appreciate the image of Irwin covered in a spirit’s half-digested meal. With a shout of, “Run!” he scooped Annie and Petra close to his chest, dodging two gawkers and heading anywhere that wasn’t here. Behind him Eren could hear the slap of Armin’s body waddling behind him as well as the rage-filled scream that tore from Irwin’s mouth. Next came a blast wave of magic, like a miniature earthquake. Eren felt the bindings around his heart tighten like they were trying to draw him back but he surged forward. Another blast hit and actually succeeded in propelling him out the nearest door. Eren felt at least one more before he rounded the corner.

Good. Let Irwin waste as much magic as he wanted.

Eren ran and it took his muddled mind too long to realize he wasn’t heading in any useful direction. He’d taken the easiest route—down—but one that didn’t seem to be leading anywhere near the boiler room. No, he couldn’t even be sure that Hanji would have gone back there. He needed to get outside and find wherever she’d stashed that boat.

With the sounds of Armin vomiting behind him Eren took Annie’s squeaky advice and made a left.

The stairs led him deeper into the bathhouse. The heat was increasing and at first Eren was hopeful that he’d stumbled across the kitchens—he could find his way out from there—but he didn’t find anything beyond sweating walls and the occasional crate. Then, as quickly as it had gotten warm, the temperature dropped. The walls changed from a milky white to grey, then to black… though maybe that was only because the light itself was fading. The air was dreadfully cool now and slightly damp. Eren realized with a claustrophobic horror that there were no more doors down here. The floor beneath his feet had made way to earth and there was nothing but tunnel up ahead.

He couldn’t turn around though. Behind him Armin was screaming and retching. Eren didn’t think he’d hurt him but half-crazed with pain he couldn’t be sure. With only one option ahead of him Eren ducked his head and dug in his heels.

He’d run maybe another ten yards when he heard it: a far more violent retching than what had come before. The sound was followed by a tumble and a painful cry. With his legs still pumping him forward Eren turned and saw Armin—much smaller now—jumping over a frog spirit that he’d spat out onto the ground. The poor guy was covered in black, sticky bile, hunched in on himself in terror. For all that though he only appeared to be stunned. He even managed to catch Eren’s eye before they pulled completely apart.

“Hey,” he croaked at them, to which Eren just ran faster.

The tunnel seemed to go on forever with time existing only in Armin’s periodic retching. Twice more Eren heard the yelp of a spirit being vomited back into the world and each time he looked back Armin was that much closer to his original size. That alone was fiercely reassuring—Dot’s medicine was working, he was fixing things—but there was still a haze around Armin’s eyes and his mouth still hung open, gasping. There was little use in stopping now, so Eren ran.

It was when he turned once more, waiting for that fourth spirit, Moblit, to be released that Eren crashed shoulder first into a dirt wall. Dead end. There was so little light down there but Eren had just enough to find the trapdoor hidden overhead. Thrumming with adrenaline he was able to jump, throw open the latch, and haul himself up into an equally dark room, all before Armin appeared beneath him.

His friend was all the way back to his original size now, heaving and clutching at where a human’s knees would be. Armin looked exhausted and hardly thinking about it, Eren extended his hand to help him up. It wasn’t bitten off or anything and Armin was surprisingly light. The only consequence was an excellent one. With a great heave Eren’s friend was sitting beside him, leg-to-leg and smiling.

“Better?” Eren asked.

Armin’s smile dropped.

Eren would realize later that his voice had been the cue. A trapdoor slamming open? Startling, but not so different from, say, the normal creaks that sound in an age-old barn. Such a noise could easily be overlooked. But a voice?

A voice meant food.

How had Eren not heard the moans? Smelled the awful stench? Armin’s breathing, his own blood pounding… those weren’t enough to cover it all. Eren heard it now though. It was the gruntle overlap of multiple, bestial voices; increasing in volume every moment, all of them hungry.

Eren’s heart stopped when in the feeble light emitting from the tunnel a titan came into view. Or rather, its head did. Eren could just make out its blunted fingers spread into the dirt, gripping tight as it lowered itself to their level. The titan, a male, had a beard that sported crusting blood as well as a host of crawling things. Their movements made the hair pulse in and out like a wave, pulling against sand. But everything was dry here—Eren’s throat, his eyes. Only Armin was sobbing, great gulping cries as the titan moved to snap him up.

Eren was numb for so much of it and it was so very, unfathomably long. At agonizing length he felt every hot pant of air as the other titans closed in, heard every gleeful groan they gave as the smell of flesh hit their noses, felt his own hands leaving claw-shaped bruises on his thighs. It was only when Eren saw the contrast of Armin’s black body against the titan’s sickeningly pink tongue that he was able to move.

He was shrieking, “no, no, no” but Eren didn’t know it. His ears were filled with Armin’s screams… and they were certainly his own. Despite the fact that they came through Moblit’s voice there was nothing but Armin’s terror there. That terror pierced Eren. It was a distilled version of the fear he’d felt for Corporal, no longer spread over so many hours, and it was worse than any mortal wound. Literally, for Eren didn’t feel the snap as a titan behind him bit straight through his leg. He noticed only that he couldn’t run anymore, so he crawled.

It shouldn’t have been possible—reaching Armin like that. But Eren did. He left a trail of blood as thick as his chest and bits of tissue as his mangled leg was dragged across the dirt… but Eren made it. With Armin already half way down the titan’s throat he dove in after him, grasping the black hand and tossing his friend straight out of the maw. Armin landed on his knees, stunned. Staring at him. Eren reached out.

“Armin—” he gasped and then the titan’s mouth clamped shut.

Eren felt sick all over, hot with a terrible fever. The tongue he sat on was soaked in saliva and that wetness easing into this remaining leg was hell, a reminder that there were different ways to drown. Eren only realized he’d lost his arm as well when his left hand found the stump. He couldn’t see the blood he’d coated his hand with but he could smell it.

His right arm.

Hadn’t there been friends on that shoulder?

“Petra.” Eren gasped. He was sliding backwards. “Annie.”

Both gone then. And Armin? Eren couldn’t see past the titan’s teeth. There was nothing but darkness here and the thrumming of a starved tongue beneath him. Had he run? Please, let him have run.

Eren thought of his family as the wetness carried him downward. They were somewhere in this barn weren’t they? They were here and the last thing he could think to do was to pray, painfully, that they wouldn’t be the ones to eat his friend.

But of course. From behind the teeth came a spirit’s cry and Eren was swallowed, knowing that his prayer had gone unanswered.

Chapter Text

Eren awoke to water.

The result was him shouting with a voice that didn’t work yet and stumbling to his feet on wobbly legs. He felt it then: grass beneath his feet. Not water. Grass. Eren sucked in wheezy breaths, straining his eyes until he could see the individual blades, until the grass was no longer one endless, green sea. He saw a ladybug and then a grasshopper, leaping between his toes.

Eren blinked woozily. Hadn’t he been wearing his shoes?

He had, he knew he had, even now memories of poison and soot-balls and reclaiming his clothes were flooding back into Eren’s mind. He staggered under the weight but then forced his head to turn that agonizing inch until he could see his other foot. There was a shoe on that one. One sneaker.

What had happened to the other?

“Lost down a titans throat,” someone said. Eren stumbled and turned to find Armin, Annie, and Petra all gathered behind him. It was Annie who had spoken, head between her knees and one hand still raised from when she’d summoned water to wake him. Eren touched his damp shirt. Annie wearily lifted her head.

“Consider the debt repaid,” she said. “A life for a life. Do you have any idea how much magic it takes to regrow limbs?” Having said her piece Annie went white as milk and hunched forward again. Eren copied her heaving.

Life? Limbs?

“What?”

Petra raced from one patient to the other. Gripping Eren’s shoulders she guided him back onto the cool, scratchy grass. He could feel it beneath his legs, on one bare foot. Solid. Eren found a small scrap of fabric missing from the bottom of his shorts, a tear resembling teeth, and he plucked at it. Petra stilled his hand.

“We came up into the barn,” she said. Then she shook her head. “I should have realized where that tunnel led. Oh I should have… By the time I did figure it out…” Petra crushed Eren’s left knee in a fierce grip. “You lost this leg almost immediately. And then threw yourself in after that spirit—stupid boy! Annie and I escaped right before, titans don’t seem to take much interest in animals, and it’s not like I was any use to you as a bird. I swear. Otherwise I would have never…” She gulped. Petra rang his knee like a rag and Eren marveled that he could feel it; the bite of her nails against bone. “By the time Annie had transformed us back you’d already been… you’d been… you stupid, stupid boy. Annie had to gut that beast to get you out! Acid burns, two limbs missing… We didn’t think… I didn’t have time to think. I held them off while you three got out. I tried.” Petra lifted the sword that Annie had clearly summoned for her. It was similar to Corporal’s and she touched the square end in a daze. Something like pride was trying to find room on her face and failing.

“I tried,” she repeated. “I slashed one across the neck…”

“My mom?” Eren asked, because isn’t that how things worked? Petra stared at him.

“What?” she whispered.

“My dad then? Mikasa?” The last name came out strangled and Petra’s eyes widened.

“Noooo. No, no, no. I know your family’s titan forms—I didn’t touch them! They’re fine. Well… they’re still in the barn. I promise you. Okay?”

“… Okay.”

Eren fell forward. Petra’s arms weren’t Hanji’s, and they certainly weren’t his family’s, but they did for now.

In time Annie’s shadow fell over them both. Her color was better but sweat still dotted along her hairline and there was a shaking in her chest.

“Dusk is getting closer,” she said. “Console your friend. Then we need to keep going.” Her eyes landed on Eren’s pale limbs. “How do they feel?”

He took a long, pollen filled breath and then nodded. “Like I never lost them,” and to demonstrate Eren used his right arm to hoist himself back up onto his left leg. He trembled but that was only from the continued shock of it all. He managed to catch himself on Annie’s shoulder and press a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She stiffened only a little.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “And Petra…”

She was picking dried blood off her sword with a thumbnail. Or trying to. The blood was evaporating into a faint mist as quickly as she chased it. It looked just like the steam that had poured off Eren when he’d first arrived and now he breathed it back in, straightening.

“Thanks.”

Petra mustered up a smile. “Of course…but if you ever do something like that again I’ll slice you in two.”

“I’ll help,” Annie said and shoved him towards Armin.

Wobbling across the field Eren thought that they might someday have to keep that promise because if ever there came a time when Armin, or anyone else was again in danger, he would throw himself into the jaws—or the sea—without hesitation. That was a promise of his own.

For now though, Eren stopped by Armin’s huddled form, plopping down next to him, and the relief of seeing him whole, being close enough to touch him… it was almost painful in its intensity. He’d gone from three, his parents and an added Mikasa, but now there was also a Hanji, a Connie and a Sasha, a Jean and a Marco, an Annie and a Petra, and a Corporal… Corporal who held so much of Eren now, even the parts of his heart that Irwin had wormed his way through. Sometimes Eren felt like he was being pulled in numerous, important directions all at the same time. Still. He wanted to reassure Armin, trembling and avoiding his gaze, that for all of that there was still a part left over for him. A huge part. Surely just knowing that would help?

But what came out was: “Friendship sort of sucks, huh?”

Eren immediately winced. “No,” he backpedaled. “I didn’t mean… It’s just… it’s hard, don’t you think?”

It was. He didn’t need Armin to confirm that. Eren had lived it. But he still let his friend work through it himself, silent except for the brushing sound his body made against stray leaves. Eventually, after a very long moment Armin looked up. His eyes were glassy.

“You nearly…” Armin stopped. Choked. “I would rather die than be a burden,” he whispered.

Eren thrust out his hand. “You’re not,” he promised and together they rose.

***

The walk back was made entirely in silence. What did someone say after an experience like that? It was clear that Petra was still rattled—keeping an ever-present fist resting on the hilt of her sword—and Annie was exhausted. They kept to the outskirts of the island in the hopes of avoiding Irwin’s gaze and by the time they’d cleared the field of flowers Annie was listing slightly to the left, like a drunk finally stumbling out of the tavern. Finally, with a defeated sigh she used a last burst of magic to turn herself and Petra back into animals, the transformation taking nearly twice as long as before. They both allowed Eren to scoop them onto his shoulder without fuss.

He made the transfer as carefully as he could given that one hand was still occupied. Armin hadn’t said a word since they’d started their walk but he hadn’t let go of Eren either.

Walking as straight as he could, Armin trailing behind him… if it hadn’t been for the distinctive texture of the spirit’s hand Eren might have thought he was walking hand-in-hand with Mikasa.

The thought made something burn in the back of his throat.

So Eren concentrated on reaching that tree, then that collection of rocks, then the ornate fencing that surrounded the bathhouse. When his mind still wandered too much Eren closed his eyes and focused on the continued, reassuring feel of grass beneath his feet. Both feet now—he’d tossed his other sneaker aside. It had admittedly taken some effort but he knew it was stupid walking around with just one shoe and the other was definitely lost.

Eaten.

Eren shivered under the sun.

“Almost there, you guys,” he said. And they were. Curving around the left side of the bathhouse, keeping to the shadows when they could, Eren was now able to make out the smoke spilling from the pipes above. He wondered what Sasha and Connie were feeding the boiler for, now that Armin wasn’t crazed and demanding individual hospitality anymore. Not that it mattered. This was probably the one time everyone could do pretty much as they pleased in the bathhouse; no doubt Irwin had bigger worries.

With the smoke behind them the forest well and truly came into view… as did the water. Eren felt his legs automatically slowing, resistant at getting any closer. He might have stopped completely if a shout hadn’t come just then.

“Human!”

Hanji, and she wasn’t alone.

There, bobbing against one of the bathhouse’s many ledges was a tiny, circular boat. Stuffed inside were Hanji, Marco, and a pissed off looking Jean.

Hey, stupid!” Jean shouted when they’d gotten a bit closer. “We’ve been waiting an age, you little—oof!” Eren couldn’t be sure but it looked as if Marco had knocked him one hard in the gut. He doubled, probably exaggerating (probably) and his head disappeared below the boat’s side. Marco waved innocently.

It was Hanji who leaped back on land, running towards them. She skidded to a halt when she spotted Armin.

“You—” She spluttered.

“He’s a friend,” Eren said. They were right by the water now, tiny waves lapping against the foundation Eren stood on. He kind of wanted to take his hand back from Armin, maybe cross his arms tightly or even bite his nails like he hadn’t done since he was a toddler, but he squashed both impulses. Instead he squeezed Armin’s fingers as he edged away.

Hanji had both her hands free and thus was able to grip her hair to her heart’s content. “That’s him!” She cried.

“Yeah, Hanji, I know. He was sick but he’s better now.”

“Oh really?” She swung her pointer finger out like a sword. “Sick huh? He ate Moblit!”

“Well… yeah. But—”

As if on cue Eren felt Armin stiffening behind him. At first he thought it was just another bout of guilt at Hanji’s—accurate—accusation, but then he heard a familiar rumble. Eren turned and saw the black of Armin’s lower body rippling unpleasantly. A second later he expelled a massive belch… along with one frog. Moblit went flying a good five feet and landed in the shallow water near the boat. For one horrible moment he lay entirely motionless, facedown with his limbs sinking. Then he jerked, spluttering upward with a cry.

“Oh.” He blinked at the crowd around him. “Hi, everybody.”

“Alright.” Jean muttered. “What the hell is going on.”

“I’m not entirely sure…” Moblit was cut off as Hanji splashed in after him, unheeding of her pants now soaked to the knee. She picked the frog up under his arms and, to everyone’s shock, planted a big fat kiss on the middle of his forehead.

“Hanji!” He croaked.

“You got eaten!” She countered and sort of half cradled half shook him, like a slightly offbeat mother. “Don’t you ever get eaten again, you hear me? Honestly, Moblit, what were you thinking!” She continued to berate the stunned spirit who took it all amazingly well, just hanging limp and expelling little bits of water every now and then.

Eren saddled a little closer to Armin. “Looks like you’re off the hook,” he said. Armin, of course, was silent. The voice he’d stolen was gone but he tugged on a stray lock of hair, looking hopeful. Eren pulled Armin closer to his victim and himself closer to the water.

“Alright, Moblit?” He asked.

Moblit looked fine. A little squished from Hanji maybe but he was alert and had all his limbs intact (which was a hell of a lot more than Eren would have been able to say just a half hour before). He gently reached up to pat Annie and Petra’s heads as Moblit smiled.

“Human!” He called up. “Ah… what…what happened?” His domed brows came together in puzzlement and pressed as he was against Hanji’s chest, he clutched spastically at the front of her shirt. For all that though Moblit stared right at Armin, obviously not recognizing him. Eren felt his breath loosening.

“Things got… really crazy,” he admitted. “So I’m glad you’re okay.” If it were possible Moblit’s smile widened even further. He didn’t look anything like the stiff, neutral frog who’d yelled at them about cleaning the floor. Eren smiled back. “I’ll explain things to you later. Pinkie promise, but now if you’re feeling up to it I’ve got a job for you.”

“Yes, sir!” Moblit cried and he hopped out of Hanji’s arms. He stared at Eren, enthusiastically treading water.

“Head back to the bathhouse and get Krista, okay? If you can’t find her get one of the others.” Eren didn’t need to clarify who the “others” were. “Tell her I had a dream and that I got the message.” Eren paused, one hand going to his cheek. “My friends are all safe—” for now “—and we’ll be back really soon—” I hope. “So get ready.”

Moblit’s eyes were wide and quivering. “Ready for what?”

Eren didn’t know. Something big.

“Just keep a low profile,” he said.

Reading both the hesitation and the fear in Eren’s face Moblit simply nodded. With a quick dive he swam off. He looked back only once, to which Eren gave a friendly salute. The rest of them watched Moblit gliding beneath the clear surface, his blue tunic rippling like a wave.

“Seriously,” Jean said when he’d gone. “What the hell is happening around here?”

“I’ll explain on the way.” Annie gave a squeak in agreement and Jean’s mouth dropped open, clearly just now spotting the mouse and bird on Eren’s shoulder. Before he could protest any more though Hanji blew a kiss to the retreating Moblit and clamored back into the boat, brining an obscene amount of water with her. Marco settled onto a protesting Jean’s lap, the sunlight creating pockets of shadow along his ravaged face. The rest of the boat was taken up by Connie’s 3-DM gear. It left just the tinniest bubble for Eren and his riders to crawl into.

Filling that space wasn’t quite as hard as he’d thought it would be. Eren’s stomach was churning and the small of his back was sweating but Armin floated to the boat’s edge and beckoned him on. That support was enough and even if it hadn’t been Eren kept a specific image of Corporal fixed in his mind: the fall from Irwin’s office, with his hands embedded in Corporal’s mane and the long forgotten feeling of water as a gentle and exhilarating experience. Eren had loved the water again in that moment and even if that moment was gone—even if Corporal was too far away—he could still pretend that the love was still there, couldn’t he?

Trying to maintain his smile Eren stepped into the boat and together they shoved off.

***

Far back and deep below, Corporal was thinking of Eren even as Eren was thinking of him.

Or rather… he was dreaming. Dreaming of a small, drowning boy.

Corporal was trying to reach him.

He’d reverted back to his human form not long after Eren and the others had left. Sasha had tucked the blanket around him properly this time as Connie and the soot-balls checked for any lasting fever. There was none. Even so, both spirits decided to keep the boiler running and the room as warm as possible. Besides, there was little sense in turning it off now. Night was approaching and whether it would prove to be a normal time of baths and meals, or something else entirely, they intended to be prepared.

The friend of their friend was asleep on their floor and Sasha and Connie both kept as close an eye on him as they could. Cleaning was the easiest excuse, so they picked up the spilled contents of their drawers as well as the boards from the broken ceiling, all the while casting glances at the still-stone form. He moved only once. Maybe twenty minutes into their vigil—right around the time Eren’s leg was being scooped between the teeth of a titan—Corporal bucked up off his matt with a groan that, had he been awake, might have been a scream. Connie wanted to call someone. Sasha asked who the hell were they supposed to call. So they just ended up holding him down on their own as the soot-balls cooed soothingly in the background. The Corporal’s left leg and right arm were particularly restless but eventually all of him settled again. He slept deeply for another half hour or so.

Then while gathering coal Connie felt the press of metal against the back of his neck.

“Man,” Connie squeaked. “There is no need for that.”

“Boiler man.” Corporal said and if anything Connie looked offended at the title. Sasha finally realized that something exciting was going on below and she scrambled down from her perch, making enough noise to drown out the machinery around them. Maybe it was deliberate because her loud decent seemed to snap Corporal out of whatever daze he was in. With what might have been an apologetic glance he lowered his sword from Connie’s neck.

“How the fuck did I get here?” He asked, pinching disgustedly at his bloodstained clothes.

“Funny story, that.” Sasha dithered. “Long too. Ha! Biscuit?” She stuck a rumpled package under his nose.

Connie’s mouth dropped open and Corporal’s eyes narrowed. He took one threatening step forward.

“You’re not distracting me with your food, Sasha.” He growled. “How in all the fucking hells did I end up here? Where’s—?” Corporal shut up fast when he noticed what was hanging around Sasha’s neck. With a quick flick of his wrist he cut the rope cord she’d tied around the object’s middle and it tumbled into his hand, despite her squawk of protest.

It was the seal. No doubt one of them had kicked it during all the chaos but a team of soot-balls had rediscovered it amongst the rubble. Sasha had claimed the pretty tool, proclaiming it a “trophy” of their victory. Now she pouted as Corporal manhandled it.

“Empty,” he said, seemingly to himself. “Used up all the magic avoiding Irwin’s damn paper… fucking useless now,” and he tossed it over his shoulder. With a cry Sasha scrambled after it. Corporal turned back to Connie.

“You took it off me while I was asleep?”

Connie’s eyes bulged. “No!”

“Did you drag me down here?”

“No, no, no, the human—”

Connie froze.

In short, he shut the hell up at the look that crossed Corporals’ face. Far from the most expressive of spirits, it would have nevertheless taken a blind man to miss what he was currently thinking about: Eren. Memories came back… as did phantom pains; ones that Corporal would swear hadn’t been his own. Behind him Sasha froze in the act of picking the seal up, sensing the change in the air, and all the little soot-balls crowded together in one large, comforting bundle. Connie eased away from the tensing spirit until Corporal’s head shot back up and Connie had no choice but to freeze once more. The Corporal’s eyes were twin, fiery suns in a very pale face.

“Where is he?” Corporal said. Completely monotone. Filled with rage.

So Connie told him. In a squeaky little voice worthy of a mouse he dutifully parroted all that he’d missed, where Eren had gone, and exactly what he intended to do.

And when he was done Connie got the hell out of Corporal’s way.

Chapter Text

Eren and his friends were already halfway across the water and a good thing too, given that the sky was beginning to darken. Gone was the bright sunlight he’d traipsed through just a short time ago, replaced by collection of purple, then navy-blue clouds. Looking back the way they’d come Eren could see the lights in the restaurants beginning to wink on and he wondered if there would be any costumers tonight. If there were, he hoped they enjoyed themselves. Come tomorrow the bathhouse might be a very different place.

“You realize we’re all going to get killed for this?” Jean groused as soon as they’d set off. “Seriously. Irwin will literally have our heads. Why am I helping a squirt like you anyway?”

For all his complaints though Jean had quieted down when Eren began to speak. The trip across the water took longer than any of them had expected—Irwin’s influence spreading farther than they would have liked; Hanji’s arms tiring from paddling them along—but it did give Eren plenty of time to explain. So he went over everything since the night before, when they’d all so happily eaten dinner together along the railing. He started with the strange dream about Krista, Ymir, Bertolt, and Reiner; the cut he’d woken up with that helped steer him towards Corporal. Marco gave him a funny look then and, touching his cheek, Eren realized that the cut had disappeared. He shrugged. No one there doubted him.

From there it was easy to slip into describing how he’d found Corporal being chased by Irwin’s paper titans, all those horrible images dimming now that he knew his friend was safe. Nothing else was easy though: learning that Armin was the guest terrorizing the bathhouse, sneaking into Irwin’s office, finding Annie trapped within the crystal. By the time Eren got to the part about Irwin having a brother he didn’t think he’d ever seen his friends so pale. Hanji looked the part of a true spirit, poised in front as she rowed. By then, with his own voice growing sore, Eren tried lightening the mood by describing the joy he’d experienced when he heard his name spoken for the first time in days, the relief of healing Corporal, the triumph over Irwin’s curse, the hope at finding some of Dot’s medicine left in the bottle, and the different—but no less equal—relief of realizing that he could give it to Armin (if not his family).

Eren hesitated in his tale only once… when he got to the titans. In the end though he realized that he could hold nothing back, not now, not when everything was coming to a head. So he described the loss of limb with equal fervor. He only realized he was rubbing is right arm when Marco gently reached over to stop him.

“I understand that,” he said simply and gestured to his own missing limb.

“Right,” Eren croaked.

Jean didn’t take to the info dumb quite as well. Mouth catching flies he looked at Eren, then Armin, then the two tiny animals clinging to his shoulder—Annie gave a squeak that might have been a greeting or a threat—before returning to staring at Eren. When he did manage to speak, what tumbled out wasn’t anything like what Eren had expected.

“Holy hell,” Jean whispered. He grimaced. “You’re really going to do it then, aren’t you? A skinny human twerp is going to save all our asses and fuck if I’m ever going to live it down.”

Marco stroked Jean’s arm consolingly, hiding a smile.

It wasn’t true of course. The only people Eren intended to save were his family. Anything else he set in motion was just a happy accident. Eren knew he wasn’t the hero here. Heroes didn’t ignore one friend’s plight because helping wasn’t convenient, or lose two limbs to a bout of stupidity, or—he looked out at the barn—fail in his quest again and again. Eren didn’t deserve, or want, the slack-jawed look that Jean was giving him. And so:

“Better a human twerp than a horse-faced giant.”

Instantly Jean’s awe was replaced with a familiar, cocky expression. Eren’s shoulders relaxed.

“Giant? That’s an insult now, is it, kid?” Jean smirked at his use of the forbidden word. “At least I could literally go toe-to-toe with Irwin; sock him one in the jaw if I wanted. Can you even reach his jaw? Without a footstool I mean.”

Eren snorted. “As if you’d have the balls to punch Irwin.”

“… You doubting me?”

“Yep.”

“I would.”

“You so wouldn’t.”

“…I will.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really.”

“Then do it.”

“I will.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Eren was flashing a shark’s grin when Hanji said, “We’re almost there.”

They settled, the humor drying up. Hanji was the only one who hadn’t bought into the performance of their ‘argument.’ As Marco laughed and even Armin cracked a smile, Hanji gazed stonily out over the water, her face as grave as when Eren had first admitted to nearly dying. Now she turned, letting the current carry the boat the rest of the way to shore. The gathering shadows made her appear far more serious than anyone of her natural disposition had a right to be. She threw her arms wide though, proving that her energy was simply muted rather than gone.

“Look how alone we are,” she said. “So alone! Well… kinda-sorta-maybe alone. You’re never totally alone around here. But isolated on the water is a pretty good start; Irwin panicking back inside is even better…” She trailed off. “You’re…you’re going to be gone for a while… aren’t you, human? But only a real little while, right?” Hanji gave him a hard look.

“Right,” Eren echoed. “Back before you know it.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Hanji seated herself next to Marco, her feet propped up on the 3-DM gear. “Almost alone… seems like as good a time as any for a story.”

“A history maybe?” Eren asked, his lips twitching.

“A historia,” Hanji agreed.

“What are you two idiots on about?” Jean said but he was quickly shushed. Marco leaned forward in his boyfriend’s lap while across from him Armin mimicked the movement. Petra and Annie nuzzled close to Eren’s neck.

“Once upon a time…”

“You can’t be seri—ow!”

“Once upon a time,” Hanji continued, drawing her hand back from Jean’s ear. “There was an awesome little squirrel, who got hit by a car, and died, and wandered as a teeny spirit for a good long while, but then she got a human body, and a job, and lots of equally awesome friends, BUT—” Hanji took a deep breath. “She was still really good at a lot of squirrely things.”

“Like annoying people,” Jean muttered.

“Like climbing trees,” Hanji sniffed. “Anyway, she’s in this bathhouse, yeah? Working and learning. She’s loving the human-spirit bit… but she’s not so sure about her boss.” Hanji’s face clouded again, staring at them each in turn. “It was easy for her to see that he wasn’t kind. No, not at all, but this spirit heard lots of rumors about how he hadn’t been in charge of the bathhouse for forever and always, like he’d like everyone to believe. Some even whispered that he’d taken control not long before she’d arrived, just a few decades ago… and that he’d stolen magic to do it. Which gets the awesome squirrel-spirit thinking: what magic? And who owned the bathhouse before? The sad thing was, no one seemed to know. Or maybe, no one was able to tell. Lots of spirits came and went and they lost lots of things along the way—things like knowledge or names.”

Eren nodded.

“So one day this spirit found herself up a tree. An apple tree. Looking for apples.”

“No. Really?” Jean pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And if I wasn’t surrounded by meanies we might actually get to the part about this apple tree being directly across from Irwin’s office.”

They all perked up at that and Eren saw the storyteller bleeding out of Hanji. She settled back against the boat’s side, the last of the light hitting her glasses and her voice, when it came again was clipped—strained.

“The tree was huge.” Hanji sighed. “It was one of the oldest around these parts, not including the ones in the forest. It just goes to show what we’re up against, that he was able to wipe it all away so easily.” She gestured sadly to the expanse of water around them, not a tree in sight except for the ones they were heading towards.

“Not anymore. He can’t do that again, Hanji. Not without the Annie. And the seal.” Eren was surprised by how reassuring his voice sounded.

Hanji smiled. “Right-o. Anyway, so there I was, up in this tree, looking straight into the lion’s den and all that. It’s pretty stupid, huh? All these locks and magical traps and it never occurs to the guy that someone could just get high enough to peak in. Probably because it never occurred to him that a squirrel-turned-spirit would have awesome tree climbing skills. AND,” Hanji continued before Jean could cut in, “I saw Krista there.”

“Krista?” Marco pursed his lips. “You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! C’mon. She’s smaller than Corporal; can you say ‘distinctive’? Besides, she was screaming at him—I know, right?—and yeah, the window was closed and all but that girl’s voice carries like a thunderclap. At one point she clearly said, ‘You have no right to this place.’”

Silence.

“Then who the hell does?” Jean demanded at the same time that Eren asked, “Well what happened then?”

Hanji looked between them, startled. “I don’t know,” she answered both. “I… uh… kinda fell.”

Eren gaped at her.

“Hey! You try keeping hold of a branch after a shock like that! Teeny tiny Krista reaming Irwin out? I’m surprised I held on as long as I did. All I do know…” Hanji’s temper dropped. “Look. All I do know is that the next day her closest friends and girlfriend were turned.”

Jean, Marco, even Armin, all of them hunched suddenly as if they’d consumed something foul. Eren felt Annie and Petra responding in kind against him and it was pretty damn obvious that he was missing something big.

“Turned?” he ventured.

“Into titans,” Marco explained. His hand touched Eren’s knee, soft as a feather. “It was one of Irwin’s earliest forms of intimidation. One night, about an hour before we opened, he summoned us all to the bridge and he just… turned them. Bertolt, Reiner, and Ymir. One second they’re fine, called forward for what we assumed was a normal demand on Irwin’s part… the next there’s three titans making grabs at the rest of us. Everyone panicked, as I’m sure you can imagine. Luckily Irwin transported them to the barn before they could do any damage but… well, there were rumors that he let them eat the humans, the ones who wandered here during those years.”

Eren grabbed hold of Marco’s hand, still there, and squeezed until he felt the bones grinding together.

“We don’t know that happened for sure though,” Marco said.

“But it’s a ‘probably.’”

“… Knowing Irwin? Yes. A ‘probably.’”

A high-pitched whine escaped Eren’s throat and he felt a cool touch at the ends of his hair. Armin.

“The good news is they don’t remember much, if anything at all. Irwin eventually turned them back and we took the whole experience as a generic warning—which it certainly was—but now I’m thinking it was also a warning leveled specifically at Krista.” Marco glanced at Hanji. She nodded.

“And there’s her name,” she added. “She told me it once—just once. We’d been scrubbing floors together for decades but it was only after Corporal’s team was punished…” Hanji froze, then bent to look directly at Petra. Eren could feel her shaking ever so slightly.

“I cried for you guys,” Hanji admitted to her. “A whoooole lot. Enough that I think Krista was pretty freaked out when she found me hiding in a supply room. She’s really good at comforting, did you know? But you know what else she said? Oh wait. ‘Course you don’t, you weren’t there, but basically she said that the best thing I could do for you guys was to remember what had happened because someday we’d need to draw on those memories and all the really awful emotions that came with them. ‘History is power,’ she said. ‘It’s why my father named me Historia.’”

There was silence in the boat.

“I really am sorry,” Hanji murmured as Petra gave a peep.

“So…let me see if I’ve got this.” Jean gripped his hair spastically. “The fucker takes names, right? But he never took ours because he didn’t consider us a threat. My pride is fine with that, don’t worry.” Two-thirds of the boat was included in that assessment while Eren got an eye-roll. “So what’s up with Krista then? Something gave her the balls to ream Irwin out and… she was ‘Krista’ even before that, yeah? So what made her dangerous enough for a name swap?”

“And how did she manage to get her name back?” Marco said.

“And how do I get mine?”

They looked to Eren. He was tipped forward, palms to his chest in an attempt to absorb it all, become it and force it to make sense. With his left hand over his heart Eren could feel the erratic thrumming and beneath it the less tangible beat: the constricting of Irwin’s chains. They’d break when he had his name back and he’d have his name when he finally had his family. Yes, Corporal had returned a part of it, Erwin had spoken it, and a few of his friends had heard it… his name was out there, but Eren still couldn’t give it freely. Even now he opened his mouth in the guise of a sigh but it would not come. He was forced into silence.

“These are the questions,” Hanji murmured.

Then Eren felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and found that Armin was nearly lost amidst the darkness. Only his blond hair and the white markings of his face could be seen. Still, Eren could feelt the familiar gesture he made and within moments there was a new book in his hands. Dimly he heard Jean’s appreciative whistle but the majority of his attention was given to the near luminescent pages. There, in a script as dark as the night around them, Armin spoke for the first time since losing his voice.

‘We’ll need to answer them later,’ the book read. ‘We’re here.’

***

Behind this time was a spirit—swords drawn, who in his attempts to go unnoticed had yet to actually leave the bathhouse. Behind him was another spirit, one who had no such qualms about keeping silent.

When Irwin Smith was angry the ground itself shook; glass shattered, the walls pushed forward, and any flames in his vicinity flared up with a vicious heat. Luckily for the inhabitants of the bathhouse, his magic was too low—too valuable now—to waste on such displays. Thus it was only a wary Gunther and Erd who faced the sorcerer’s wrath. And his screams.

“WHERE ARE THEY?”

The yell shot out from behind the desk and cut across Gunther’s ears. The only thing that hurt more was his knees. They’d been kneeling for well over an hour now and if the slight trembling that ran along Erd’s thighs was any indication, he was feeling it too.

“Where are they?” Irwin asked again, much quieter this time. This was as much a test as anything else in their lives now. After the human boy had fled with the rogue spirit Irwin had removed the bonds on their speech. Now it was an endless guessing game of when he wanted their agreement, when they dared to give actual advice (pulled from them, unwillingly), and when silent supplication was the safest route of all.

Gunther had never been one for playing it safe.

“I’m sure Oluo and Mike will return shortly, sir.” He said. “They—”

“I don’t care!” A porcelain cat yowled in fear as it was shattered against the far wall. Irwin dove out from behind his desk and, seeming to flit across the space, ended up down in front of Gunther. Then he turned to stare at Erd. Neither of them flinched.

“You think I care about those fools?” Irwin asked. He cut them off, voice shaking. “I don’t. I well and truly don’t. If they never returned that would simply be two less mouth for me to feed; four less eyes shifting, just waiting until they see the opportune moment to stab me in the back.” Irwin grinned cruelly and it was clear to Gunther that their own four eyes boring into the sorcerer did not go unnoticed. Irwin took an easy step back.

“I want Petra.” He spread his arms like he expected her to materialize, step forward and embrace him. His fists clenched. “My sweet Petra. Of course you’d be the first to draw your blade against me. My sweet spirit… I want you to answer for that… oh yes. You know what else I want?” Irwin tossed his head at the door where the remains of a crystal still lay, its occupant long gone.

“I want my power!” He roared. “I want that cold bitch back where she belongs! I want what she stole: dear faithful Corporal—” a spit, a sneer, “—and I want what he stole in turn—my seal!” Irwin was heaving now. “But do you know what I want most of all? That boy. I want that stupid, filthy, rude human boy and I want him RIGHT NOW. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? GIVE ME HIS HEAD. GIVE ME HIS HEART. WHAT ELSE ARE YOU FOOLS GOOD FOR IF—?”

Irwin suddenly cut himself off. There, outside the door the three of them could hear footsteps… as well as what sounded like muffled cries.

Gunther tensed his shoulders and hoped that Irwin wouldn’t notice. Beside him he felt Erd doing the same. Truthfully, nothing good could come from the cries they could hear distinctly now. The only spirits who would dare to come up here right now were Oluo or Mike, and they’d been given explicit instructions not to return unless they’d caught one of the traitors.

‘Traitors,’ Gunther thought. ‘Right. What a bunch of filth. Please…please don’t let it be Corporal…’

For the first time in centuries a prayer of his was actually answered. Oluo came barging in and tossed over his shoulder he bore a squirming, furious frog. He threw Moblit onto the carpet next to Erd and though Gunther knew that Irwin expected such violence, he couldn’t help but wince at Moblit’s painful landing. To his credit he sat up in a jiffy, straightening his tunic as best he could.

“Well, well, what’s this now…” All trace of Irwin’s former rage was gone. Now he bent to regard Moblit intently, one finger curling and almost touching the frog’s chin. Moblit hopped back against Erd’s knees.

“Found him in the lower levels, sir.” Oluo reported. He was chewing on his tongue though, his lips a bright red from where he’d no doubt bitten it at least once tonigh. “Greenie was sneaking around down there…”

“Sneaking!” Moblit cried. “I wasn’t sneaking.”

“Oh? Then what were you doing down?”

As Irwin moved to again take hold of Moblit’s chin, Gunter felt a cold wave run down the back of his spine. He didn’t know Moblit personally but he knew him to be a goody-two shoes, someone whom Irwin could count on to get out of his way even if he didn’t happily wave him off. He was a pushover. Why worry about what Moblit might say because surely, someone like him couldn’t have anything to say at all… right?

Yet Moblit wasn’t cowering. Trembling yes, but his eyes never dropped even as Irwin’s fingers stroked along his skin. Perhaps the confidence came simply from knowing that he had nothing to hide…

Or maybe it meant that Moblit had changed.

Like a floodgate Gunter was suddenly awash in memories: Moblit spending time with the odd-ball Hanji, him standing proud at the front of the line as they pulled muck out of Dot, standing even prouder before the human boy and gifting him with the respect that Irwin had never—would never—be able to earn. If Moblit had truly changed than that was wonderful.

It was also very dangerous.

Gunther squirmed as a bead of sweat trickled down his neck. Why had Moblit been down in the lower levels? A natural dusk was upon them, the customers would be arriving any moment, and after all that had occurred the last few days Moblit had more than enough work to occupy his time, work that in no way required him to venture downstairs. Not unless he’d started working for someone else…

“Well?” Irwin prompted. His voice sharpened down to a point. Moblit opened his mouth and Gunther closed his eyes, fearing what might come out.

“I was eaten,” said the squeaky voice. Gunther’s eyes popped back open. He saw Moblit hanging there in Irwin’s hands, his green legs kicking and his gaze steady.

“Eaten?”

“Yes, sir! It was that spirit, sir—the black one with the white face. He jumped me yesterday, sir, swallowed me whole and I swear, I really swear, I didn’t know a thing until he spat me back out just a few minutes ago. Really, sir. Really.”

This was familiar. Moblit’s eyes had grown wild during his explanation, moving to match the speed of his speech. Gone was the leveling stare and in its place two orbs rolled up, down, swinging from one corner of the room to the next, all of it in fervent panic. If Gunther hadn’t seen the look that had come before it, witnessed it himself, he would have never believed it now.

“I was confused, sir!” Moblit blubbered. “Really! One second it’s so dark and the next I’m in the dirt, covered in some sort of slime.” Irwin removed his hands from the frog with a grimace. “I just started hoping away from that place. Oh please, sir. Please believe me. I didn’t even realize that I’d been in the tunnel until your servant found me.” The eyes rolled towards Oluo. “I know better than to go down there—we all do! I’m sorry, sir. Well and truly sorry. Please, sir, please. Don’t… don’t…”

“Shut. Up.” Irwin said and Moblit obediently snapped his mouth tight. The five of them took a moment of silence together: Oluo hovering, Moblit twitching, Erd impressively still between them, Irwin pressing the heel of his palm against his head, and Gunther watching the frog, trying to ignore the ache in his knees in favor of seeing who’d come out on top.

“That creature vomited you back up?” Irwin finally snapped.

“Yes, sir!”

“Down in the tunnel?”

“That’s where I awoke, sir…”

“Did you see him then?”

“No, I—”

“Did you see the human boy?”

“No—”

“The Corporal?”

“N—”

“Gods, did you see anything of use?” Irwin roared as Moblit ducked into a crouch.

“No?” he questioned and Irwin raised a hand as if to strike him. Before he could though Oluo took a step forward. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, sir? There was… something down in the tunnel where I found him; seems like he’s telling the truth.”

Irwin raised an eyebrow. “Something?”

Oluo mimed vomit spewing from his lips and the four of them winced.

“Do save me from such imagery, Oluo. You!” Moblit straightened into something resembling a salute. Irwin pointed manically to the door. “Are you of use to me? No? Ah yes, haven’t we established that? Of course if that’s truly the case… THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?”

“Sir!”

Moblit sprung for the exit and the door slammed open to accommodate him.

Gunther watched as the frog hopped away, thinking that maybe his movement didn’t portray quite the level of terror that one would suspect. Subtly, he looked to Oluo. His friend was no good at conveying silent messages but that was okay, because Gunther was good at reading his friend. He’d stopped chewing on his tongue. He was still. Something about their odd little encounter with the frog had calmed him.

Gunther glanced at Erd. He was still too—calm.

Logically. Logically Gunther knew that things had probably happened exactly as Moblit said: he’d been a victim, he’d escaped, and he still knew nothing about anything. Like the rest of them he was trapped under Irwin’s thumb and that exit was every bit as frantic as it had seemed.

Or…

Or. And here Gunther relied on his instincts, an intuition that had yet to steer him wrong. ‘Or’ meant that the challenge he’d seen in Moblit’s eyes had well and truly been there. ‘Or’ implied that he’d lied, right to Irwin’s face, about his involvement with the spirit and that boy. If so, why?

The answer came easily enough: because they were up to something. Something grand. And if that crazy human boy who got jobs in the spirit world and freed sorceresses was really still playing this game, then Corporal couldn’t be far behind. Gunther wasn’t stupid. He’d seen how his boss—his true boss—looked at that kid. Corporal believed in him, which meant that Gunther did too.

Irwin gave a sudden bark of laughter. “The tunnel,” he crooned. “I do wonder if Shifter knows where it leads. If the stupid brat wasn’t going after his kin then he’s in for quite the surprise…”

Gunther gazed in awe at the hatred he saw there. Irwin basked in it.

“I wanted to kill him myself.” He hissed. “But I must admit, getting torn apart by dear Mom and Dad is a fitting end for that imp. Or maybe it was his baby sister who did the deed.”

‘Corporal,’ Gunther thought. ‘Keep away from him.’ But at the same time he was thinking, ‘please help.’

Irwin laughed again. “Beautiful. At least one of them is dead.”

“He’s not,” came a voice and Gunther’s stomach dropped. Breaking Irwin’s orders he rose to his feet and was proud to see Erd doing the same. Oluo’s mouth was pursed in a tight line while Irwin’s, despite the news, had spread into a grin.

“Well, well,” he said.

Corporal stood in the doorway, Mike behind him with one hand resting on his shoulder. There was no doubt that Corporal looked a fright—his hair standing on end, blood splattered all across his torn clothes—but for all that he edged a sword out of its case with the same-old confidence, letting just an inch of the blade gleam.

“The brat is still alive, sir.” Corporal said. “Shall I take care of him for you?”

Chapter Text

The first ten seconds were a mess of varying tensions. It didn’t escape Irwin’s notice that Corporal had at least partially drawn his sword and it didn’t escape Corporal’s that Irwin still had the power to turn his squad against him, if in action if not in spirit. Mike’s hand remained firm on Corporal’s shoulder, Oluo was poised in preparation for a fight, and Gunther was distinctly aware that he and Erd were smack in the line of fire.

Ten seconds. Then all of them experienced the relief of Corporal lowering that inch of steel.

“Well c’mon,” he said. “Do you want the brat or not?”

Corporal only had eyes for Irwin. He shook off Mike and moved past Gunther, unseeing. Irwin leaned back against his desk and drummed his fingers in a maddening beat against the wood.

“I do,” he murmured. “I also want you.”

Corporal spread his arms. “Well fucking look. I’m here. Happy now?”

“I want you dead.”

“Ah.” Corporal’s arms sunk like stones. “Then no,” he said. “No.”

They stared at one another and Gunther dared to take a step closer to Corporal. Oluo and Erd did the same. Slowly, Irwin’s lip rose until he was sporting a sneer that showed off glints of whitened teeth.

“You betrayed me,” he growled.

“Don’t,” Corporal growled right back. “Don’t you fucking dare. Our relationship isn’t some fairy tale shit based on trust. Given the slimmest chance I’d kill you, completely, just like you’d kill me, but we both know neither of us have that option right now, so what else do you want, Irwin? The human boy? Because I’ll drag him back by his hair if that’s your desire, O’ Great and Shining One.”

“Why?” Irwin snapped. He leaned forward, spitting. “Why help me?”

“Because I want something too.”

Corporal’s mouth twisted and had it been anyone else Gunther would have identified the movement as a cruel, budding smile.

Corporal moved then. He took deliberate, agonizing steps forward—Irwin’s breath becoming shallower with every thump of his boots—until Corporal stopped and turned sharply on his heel. He circled the desk, hands tracing but never touching the objects there. Coming to the seat, the place of power, Corporal danced his fingers above a nearby empty space, hovering where a seal had once lain.

“You’re fucked, Irwin.” He said. “Currently. But I can help un-fuck you if that’s what you want. In fact, I already have, you sadistic piece of shit. Did I take your precious seal? Yep. Saw the chance, took it, you got your revenge, I inconveniently survived… isn’t this the game we play? But it could have been a whole hell of a lot worse for you. Be thankful I took that trash when I did.”

“Thankful?” Irwin barked a startled laugh. “Yes. ‘Thankful’ is exactly the feeling…”

“Sure it is. Me taking your seal means your brother never got the chance to take it himself.”

They all watched as the blood ran straight out of Irwin’s face.

“What?” Corporal asked. “You didn’t really think a human kid broke into your office—and healed me—all on his own, did you? Idiot.”

With a scream of rage Irwin stalked to the door and slammed both palms down atop the knockers. There was a brief flash of light and then the previously still handles began to move, rippling like there was something crawling beneath their bronze skin. Within seconds the faces from the entrance had appeared. They crooned with piercing voices and showed off their sharpened teeth.

“Sir!” The one on the right cried. “Magnificent Sir!”

“Yes, yes! Magnificent!” echoed the one on the left. And they continued in this vein until Irwin’s yells overtook them both. Gunther had still been kneeling when Irwin had called these two in earlier and he’d been forced to sit through a similar rant with remarkably similar questions: who’d dared to come into his rooms? How had they gotten in? Why had you simpletons let them in? Now though, as Gunther continued trying to get closer to Corporal without actually moving, he heard details spilling out. The knockers stuttered that it maybe, possibly, potentially hadn’t just been the boy. They’d seen something—a something-something—slipping between them before their doors were forcibly opened. What was it? They couldn’t say. It was just a something.

“Erwin,” Irwin hissed when he’d sent them away. “Of course.”

Gunther had never heard anyone say their own name with such venom before but Corporal took advantage like a pro, tearing at the wound like a dog wild on the scent of blood.

“He’s finally making his move.” Corporal goaded but his voice was light, unconcerned. “His final attack. Are you prepared, Irwin? Fuck no you’re not. Annie is gone… your seal is gone… the bathhouse itself is fractured… you don’t even have your shitty greed to throw at the problem.”

Quick as a whip Corporal’s hand flew from the seal’s empty space to the obscene pile of gold sitting beside it. Irwin had a scale on his desk and he’d tipped it with all the treasure that Dot had left, as well as a large trove gained from that rogue spirit.

Gunther would never say that he knew Corporal well (he didn’t think anyone did) but he did know him better than most. Even with all the identity that Irwin had stolen through their contract, Gunther still knew important things: like that his Corporal was an incredible fighter, that he feared disorder more than a sword, teacups were handled with an almost devotional care, and children… underneath his stoicism there was a fierce protection of children unlike any Gunther had seen before. It made him fear that Corporal had never been protected himself. How had Corporal died? Who was he exactly as a spirit? Gunther didn’t know. He didn’t even have the reassurance that this lack of answers definitely stemmed from Irwin’s spell work and not the fact that, maybe, Corporal had simply never trusted Gunther enough to tell him.

What Gunther did know was that he had these other memories and numerous others floating in his head. Amidst this jumble of things that meant ‘Corporal’ were visions of him shying away from magic, acknowledging it only with the deepest disgust, or sometimes even with fear. These emotions had translated quite literally into his skill-set. Corporal would never be able to cast magic but he was quite deft at tearing it limb from limb.

So Gunther wasn’t at all surprised when Corporal snapped his fingers and the pile of gold crumbled to dust.

“Woooow,” he drawled. “A spirit who hates you and a creepy-ass intruder gave you fake gold. Who’s surprised? Not fucking me.”

Irwin bent forward at the waist as a pained whine forced its way out from his lips. To Gunther it looked as if he was poised between collapsing entirely and straightening again, purely through force of will. Will won and Irwin rose to stare Corporal down.

“What do you want?” He demanded.

“My name.” Corporal’s response was unhesitating and he raised a hand as Irwin made to speak. “I’ll go and retrieve your precious power source and in return you give me back my name, tear up my contract, and scatter it across the fucking winds. I leave here, unharmed, not matter what. That’s non-negotiable, shithead. But…” Here Corporal paused. “I don’t want to leave the brat either.”

Irwin smirked. Some of his confidence began to return and, feeling the tug, Gunther joined Erd and Oluo in taking their place behind him. It gave them an even better view of Corporal: still standing behind the desk but no longer entirely in control of the room.

“Ahh.” Irwin said. “That will always be your weakness, Corporal.” Suddenly his eyes hardened again. “I’m not just giving you that bastard.”

“Then I’m not just giving you Annie.”

“You’re already getting your name.”

“I am? Didn’t realize we’d agreed to anything yet. I want more.”

Irwin almost looked proud. He tilted his head forward in a mocking bow. “A compromise then? You do realize Shifter still has his own contract intact, right? Even if I don’t find him—which is unlikely—he’ll still never be free. Although… that being said, he’s no good to me wandering in the woods. I either want him working or I want him dead. Whatever strikes my fancy at the time.” Irwin grinned, a quick flash of teeth that was sharp and feral. “So let’s make a wager like civilized men, shall we? You bring Shifter to me, I promise not to kill the maggot outright, and in turn you agree to let him decide his own fate… in a manner weighted somewhat in my favor, of course.”

“Of course.” Corporal spit. “How?”

“A test.” Irwin shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll come up with something entertaining, preferably something that draws in some customers.” His eyes strayed to the pile of ashes adorning his desk. “If Shifter wins I’ll let him go—tear up his contract just like yours. But if he looses…”

“You’ll kill him.” Corporal finished.

“Most likely. I… I think I’ll drown him.” Irwin smiled again and laughed. Gunther saw Oluo shiver beside him and felt an answering shake in his knees. “What choice do you have, Corporal? You may have some leverage over me but not nearly enough to demand both your life and his. Oh no, no, no, not after what you’ve both put me through. But…” his face grew grave again. “I’m not a man to mince words. I want Annie more than I want the brat. So if you need to throw a bone his way to get the job done…” Irwin gestured dramatically. “Than by all means.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes, fine.” Corporal moved forward as if to finish the deal but Irwin held up a finger.

“I do want Petra too,” He said.

Corporal grit his teeth. “No. I’m not handing her to you on a fucking plate.”

“Really?” Irwin laughed again, louder this time. “But you’re willing to just leave her behind, along with the rest of them?” He turned to take in Gunther and the others. “Do you hear that, boys? Your precious Corporal cares not a bit for the likes of you.” None of them moved. “Now, Corporal, your own life I can understand, but Shifter’s? I’m surprised at you. Abandoning your own team in favor of a human.”

“They knew what they were getting into when they asked for jobs here,” he said evenly. “So did I. The brat is just a fucking kid.” Corporal barely spared Gunther a glance. “I’m not responsible for them but I’m not leaving a child with you, Irwin. Not if I can help it.”

“Yes, yes. You and your conscience…” Irwin looked disgusted. “It’s a deal then?” He held out his hand.

Slowly, Corporal walked out from behind the desk and with probably more courage than was readily apparent, took Irwin’s hand in his own. They shook once—a movement quick as a cut—and then backed away just as fast. Corporal immediately reached inside his shirt for a handkerchief and began wiping between their fingers.

“I must admit that I’ll miss working with you,” Irwin said. “You and I are so very much alike.”

“Fuck you,” Corporal said. “I’m nothing like you.”

“As you say.”

Irwin reached into his own shirt and produced a remarkably similar handkerchief. Together the men stood face-to-face, cleaning away the memories of the other.

***

“So it’s pretty apparent you suck at this.”

Eren glared at Jean who was just standing there like a lump—a giant, horse-faced, useless lump. They’d made it to the bank before nightfall just as Erwin had demanded, and now all that was left was to find their way to his house… or wherever it was that sorcerers lived. Eren wanted to simply head out on foot but Petra insisted that it was too far; they’d have to use the gear Connie had provided. Annie had changed them both back one they’d reached land and now Eren was 99.9% certain it was just so they could have a better view of him making a fool of himself.

“You really suck.”

“Would you shut it, Jean!”

Eren grit his teeth and tried balancing again. He hadn’t come all this way to kill himself by flying into the nearest tree so he’d suggested—rightly he thought—that they experiment with the gear a bit before actually taking to the air. Turns out it had been a damn good suggestion. Forget flying. Eren could barely get off the ground.

They’d rigged it so that on clasp from each side was connected to the nearest tree, creating a harness with the rest of the gear that Eren could, theoretically, balance in. Easier said than done though. Every time Hanji and Petra pulled on the cords to hoist Eren into the air he immediately went head down and ass up. All he’d gotten out of the stupid experiment were multiple bruises to add to his catalogue. Oh, and apparently Jean’s amusement. Mustn’t forget that. Eren glared at him, wishing that the darkness didn’t lessen the blow so much.

“You need to relax,” Hanji called. “Keep loose.” She tugged on her cord and Eren squawked as his left side was suddenly pulled upwards. Fretting, Petra tried compensating by pulling her side too. All it accomplished was the same damn result: Eren flew up, held it for a second, and then tipped forward alarmingly. He caught a look at Armin’s luminescent face, saw nothing but horror there, and realized what was about to happen right before his temple cracked against the ground.

“Oh fuuuuuuck!” Eren cried. He curled inward, pressing his hands against his forehead and curling his toes. Armin was there. He tugged Eren’s hands away and made pained ‘ah’ sounds at whatever he saw.

“Oooooo. Am I dying?” Eren muttered.

He hoped that particular ‘ah’ meant ‘no.’

“Don’t do anything too stupid.” Annie said. “I can’t heal you just yet.” She leaned against a nearby tree where she’d been ever since she’d transformed back. Annie did look tired still. He entire weight was resting against the trunk and her hair was picking up bits of debris from where she lay it against the bark. The only part of her that moved was her fingers. The second she was human she’d pulled a ring from her pocket and had been fiddling with it since. Now, Jean eyed the movement suspiciously.

“Married?” He asked. Eren couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. Apparently neither could Annie.

“My kind don’t generally give rings as a sign of commitment,” she said.

“Right. Then you…?”

“Procure the head of your beloved’s most hated rival. You present it to them—minus the scalp—on your wedding night. If you both happen to have the same rival than it’s considered romantic to take the bastard down together.” Annie shrugged.

“You—you—” Jean was all eyes until Hanji started laughing. “You’re joking.”

“Yep.” Annie tossed the ring high where it flashed in the darkness. “It’s a blood ring.” It came down, landing neatly in the palm of her hand. There she slipped it onto a finger and twisted it sharply. Eren watched as a curved section popped out from the inside. Even as far away as he was he could tell it was wicked sharp.

“Easy access to your own blood.” Annie said. “Not too much either. That’s not something you want to just leave lying around. But some spells, the powerful ones, they require a bit of sacrifice.” She looked directly at Eren and shrugged again. “Re-growing limbs isn’t like fixing a bump on the head. You’ve got a bit of my blood mixed in with you now.”

“Well I’m fine with that.” Eren said, overriding Jean’s gag. “Armin? Help me up? This time I’ll try—Armin?”

Armin wasn’t looking at him though. He was staring at the gear strapped around Eren’s chest and waist, specifically the clasps about his stomach. Armin’s body was nearly invisible in the dark now so Eren jumped when he suddenly felt that malleable hand touching his shirt. Armin tugged at a specific clamp and Eren felt an answering looseness in the rest of the gear.

“What the—?”

Ignoring him Armin made a pleased sound and set to creating a book. Within seconds he had a small pile of gold that then melted right back against the pages. Only it didn’t disappear. Armin scooped the liquid metal and began applying it to the clasp, creating a gold casing around the whole thing.

“It’s defective,” Petra said. She looked from Eren to the trees he was still connected to. “I’m surprised you were able to balance at all if the gear was broken…”

“Oh man, is Connie gonna hear about this.” Hanji rubbed her hands together gleefully.

“Ha!” Eren called. “So I don’t suck!”

“You still suck overall,” but even Jean looked slightly impressed. From the shadows Annie gave him what might have been a small smile but it was really impossible to tell.

“Try again,” she said.

So he did and this time Eren could feel the difference straight away. Instead of tipping one way or another his body simply floated in the harness, so long as he kept his muscles as relaxed as possible. It became easier the longer he held it and after just a few moments he was able to let his legs droop completely, looking up at his friends with an admittedly goofy smile.

“I’m flying!” he said.

“Not yet you’re not,” and Hanji smacked him on the back. It set Eren reeling for a second but then he tightened his thighs and the muscles along his stomach. Doing so was almost instinctual—and it was a good instinct, because it pulled him back upright where Eren immediately relaxed again, back to his previously balanced position. Hanji gaped at him. Then her own face split into an answering grin and she turned to Jean.

“Does that still look ‘sucky’ to you? Eh, horse-boy?”

“Leave off, squirrel-girl.” But Jean was heading towards them with a smile too.

“Are you two just going to sling animal insults all night or are we actually doing this?” Petra pointed up to the stars. “We have the length of a natural night. During that I’m confident Irwin won’t have the time or the energy to follow us. Come morning though…”

Eren was nodding before she’d even finished. None of them knew what the dawn was going to bring. Change, hopefully. But of what sort they couldn’t say.

Still hanging, oddly comfortable, Eren felt a tug on his bare foot. Armin was holding up another book with silver writing spiraling down the page.

“‘What if Irwin sends someone on his behalf?’” Eren read. The others stilled but Eren was already mentally flipping through everyone that could potentially be given that responsibility: Oluo, Mike, Erd, Gunther… maybe Moblit if he was found… maybe even Corporal. Despite the fear that seized him at the thought of any of these friends being forced to hunt him down, Eren knew that it would be just that—force. They were on the same team, even if that wasn’t always so obvious. They would fight.

“We’ll be okay,” Eren said. They would because he couldn’t allow them to be anything else.

They all just stood there.

“C’mon,” Eren encouraged. “Get me down already. I want to really try Connie’s craziness now and like you said, Petra, the night’s not gonna last forever.”

***
Learning to actually use the gear went better than Eren could have ever expected. There were a few more rough tumbles and yes, a few near crashes into some trees, but within less than an hour Eren was literally flying high, as easily as if he’d been born to it. Never—never—had he felt such freedom before. Not tumbling down a hill back home, not tearing through a neighbor’s yard with their shouts right on his heels, not even when he’d been pushing against the brutal waves that had tried to keep him from Mikasa (because Eren could admit now that a fear of one’s life did allow for a very specific kind of freedom). But this? This was the intensity of that freedom without the same sickening terror; it was a fear born of exhilaration instead of the other way around. What was truly amazing was that Eren couldn’t have been more than ten feet off the ground, going probably half the speed that the gear was capable of. Think of what he could do if he just pushed a little more. The possibilities sent Eren’s heart rate up another notch.

Glitches or no, Eren was going to kiss Connie when he next saw him because this shit was well and truly awesome.

He was also never, ever giving it back.

When the initially giddiness died down a bit Eren took to Marco’s instructions. With watchful eyes below to guide him, he quickly learned how to aim the clasps at high points in a tree’s truck, or a limb that he was positive could hold his weight. Eren learned how to maintain that looseness in his limbs as he was flying through the air but how to also tighten muscles for when he wanted to turn. More than once he sent up a thanks for his reflexes. In this type of travel you had to have your next three locations mapped out, or else be prepared to land fast—and that was easier said than done when landing involved very painfully dense trees in a near pitch-black environment.

Despite the danger though, Eren found himself having to resist Jean’s encouragement (“Do a flip, you wimp! C’mon already. DO A FLIP!”) and when he did eventually land, stumbling right through the dirt, there was a definite pang of disappointment of having forced his feet back on the ground.

Hanji helped, as always. She ran to meet him and outstripped all the others. When she’d gotten close she threw herself to her knees and skid the rest of the way. Her face looked nearly as bright as Eren’s felt.

“That was great!” She yelled. “Me next. Me next!”

“You’re not coming,” Annie said. She came up behind Hanji, already slipping her ring back on her finger and pulling Petra close. The urgency of her movements hit Eren like a punch to the gut.

“Oh,” he said. All that giddiness faded. “Right.”

Eren looked down at Hanji, still kneeling, and saw his own disappointment reflected back at him. Of course she wasn’t coming. Neither were Marco or Jean who came up behind her with equal signs of worry in their frowns and the twitching of their hands. Up in the sky those things—the bad things—just seemed easy to forget.

“Can’t you make them small too?” He asked Annie but she shook her head.

“Not enough energy.” Then she added: “I’m Sorry,” and Eren watched as she and Petra shrunk.

“Come here,” Hanji said and she rose to gather Eren back into her arms. The hug was quick this time, just a squeeze and a hum and a peck left in the depths of his hair. Then she was replaced by Marco whose scars pressed rough against his cheek and Jean who simply gripped his collar and cuffed the back of his head. Eren responded by wiping his filthy feet on the bottom of Jean’s pants.

“You’re an ass,” Jean said fondly.

“We’ll take the boat back.” Hanji said. “Keep a super low profile. We…” She blew out a breath. “We’ve already been gone for a while. I don’t know if we’ll be able to sneak back out again.”

“We’ve gone over this,” Eren reassured. He lifted a tiny Petra and Annie up to his chest. “You don’t even know when we’ll get back. We’ll…” Eren swallowed. “We’ll swim back. We’ll be fine.”

Marco smiled lopsidedly. “Yeah you will.”

“But you’ll be back before morning, right?” Hanji worried at the edge of her shirt. Then she pounded fists against her thighs. “Promise!”

“I promise,” and Eren held out his pinkie. Hanji just blinked at it.

“It’s a human thing. Link your pinkie with mine.” She went to do so… then pulled back.

“Shouldn’t I make a promise too?” Hanji tiled her head. “I think I will. I promise to look after Corporal while you’re gone,” she said solemnly. Behind her Marco and Jean nodded. “Okay?”

Eren swallowed, nodded, linked fingers, and then pumped them up and down a few good times.

He didn’t want to let go.

“There,” he whispered. “Human pinkie promise.”

Hanji’s smile was worth a whole hell of a lot. Eren just hoped she thought the same of his.

***
He watched as three of his friends jogged back towards the shore, heads already bent in preparation for the guises they’d don: hard-working, obedient spirits. Nothing more. Nothing less.

There was only one other friend left. It has never been said out loud that Armin would be coming with them but everyone knew. More accurately, they understood that Armin would simply refuse to leave. Remembering the lightness of his friend when he’d pulled him up into the barn, Eren placed a bird and a mouse on his shoulder and then scooped Armin right into his arms.

Admittedly it was sort of awkward at first but Eren also wouldn’t deny that there was something lovely about having his friend pressed this close. Armin developed legs that wrapped comfortably about his waist and his hair tickled in bursts against Eren’s chin. His white face was a beacon against the darkness up ahead.

Darkness or no, they had to head forward. Eren ran, jumped, and connected to the nearest tree. The four of them flew up among the branches, dodging limbs and leaves…

… each pass bringing them closer to Erwin.

Chapter Text

They settled into a routine remarkably quickly. During the first few passes through the trees Eren had felt surges of fear—flying towards the unknown, immersed in darkness, surrounded by friends but friends who couldn’t speak—and then Eren felt a sharp nip on his right ear.

It was Petra. At first Eren thought she was just trying to get his attention but she continued tugging at the same lobe, her mouth too full to even chirp at him. After an uncomfortable few yards Eren started targeting trees to the right of him and he smiled when Petra pulled back.

That’s how she lead them: more right, more left, still left, straight as you’re able, Eren—no easy task given the layout of the forest. They never encountered anything that could be termed a clearing, just trunks and shadows that grew thicker the farther they traveled. By the time Eren was flying only a few feet between each tree Petra had begun scratching at the back of his neck… they were almost there; a good thing too because both canisters of gas had begun to sputter.

Navigating with his right hand Eren wrapped his left arm tight across Armin and cupped his smallest passengers within the hollow of his neck. They dropped, hitting thinner branches on the way down, but for all the scratches and scrapes they received Eren still managed to keep his feet upon landing. Although… two toes did bend backwards as he stumbled and Eren yelped like a kicked dog. Armin slapped a cool hand over his mouth.

It was more than a little silly. If Irwin had indeed sent someone they could have followed the sound of releasing gas or even the dull thunk every time Eren connected to a tree. His muffled whines as he hopped about wouldn’t make much of a difference. Still, Eren understood that desire for caution. So when he’d hopped his fill he let Annie and Petra creep quietly down from his shoulder. Armin stepped soundlessly onto the ground. Quietly Eren disengaged the canisters (they were useless now anyway) and quietly they moved towards the path they could just barely see ahead of them.

They were so quiet that when the squeaking started Eren jumped liked he’d heard a gunshot.

Squeaksqueaksqueak—the fur along Annie’s back began to rise.

Squeaksqueaksqueak—Petra took up position on top of her.

Squeaksqueaksqueak—Eren formed two fists and was shocked to see Armin pull a ragged dagger out of a book. He shouldn’t have been though. The markings under his eyes looked like war paint.

Just as there was a collective decision made to charge… a light appeared, halting them in their tracks. Slowly the darkness receded and was replaced by a yellow crescent moon. That moon then became a full circle as something rounded the path’s corner.

Eren squinted as Armin took his hand.

“Is… is that a lamp?” he asked. Then Eren groaned. “Oh, c’mon. That’s actually a lamp, what the hell.”

He’d seen a lot of strange things since landing at the bathhouse and Eren fully expected to see more before he left (and he would leave—he would he would). The thing was, ‘strange’ had a tendency to equal ‘fucking awful’ around here. So when Eren was trapped in a dark, hostile forest and heard an ominous squeaking edging closer from around the bend… Well. He imagined an evil, deranged android of course, or a demon baby in its black carriage, sneaking up on squeaking wheels. Something worthy of Armin’s knife. Not a fucking lamp.

A ridiculously cute lamp at that.

It hopped closer (squeaksqueaksqueak) in a welcome halo of light and despite the lack of features it nevertheless expressed a tangible cheer at seeing them. When it came to a stop, bathing them in yellow, Eren saw two stick-thin arms attached that ended in white gloves. The lamp suddenly bent towards him and those arms shot up to fold into what could only be a salute. Fists formed (mirroring Eren’s own), one arm slapped diagonally across its front (chest), while the other went parallel behind its back. The lamp then straightened with respect, seemingly waiting. Eren blinked at it.

Then he felt a cool tap on his shoulder. Armin’s dagger melted back into the paper and his book now read, “Erwin.” When Eren continued to stare the word reshaped itself to say, “soldier.”

“Right.” Eren said. “Right.”

He’d explained his encounter with Erwin during the boat ride, including the sorcerer’s insistence that Eren was a soldier, someone who fought… and someone who won. It sorta made sense that a salute—even a weird one—would be a hint at the lamp’s sender. Not that Eren expected something so cute and cheery to come from Irwin. The bastard was devious but sending this little guy would have just been unnatural on his part.

Unbidden Eren’s head tipped to scan the skin, searching. There were no birds of prey circling… at least none that he could see. Eren kept breathing.

“Okay,” he finally said. The lamp wasn’t actually hopping anymore but it was bouncing, bending and popping back up in an exuberant show of impatience.

“Erwin?” Eren questioned just to be sure and the lamp tilted on the edge of its base so it could do a happy twirl. “Great.”

Beckoning to them Eren watched as a heaving Petra flew a tired looking Annie back to his shoulder. He offered a hand but Petra just sort of sniffed at him. Independence, then. With what might have been a chuckle Armin pocketed his book.

Eren eyed the lamp. “Well, let’s go then…”

They started off, the four of them deliberately huddled together under the light. The lamp periodically glanced back to check on them and in doing so shown the light directly against Eren’s eyes. He blinked, tears catching on his lashes before they tumbled down his cheeks. Whatever. Except they didn’t stop once the lamp turned away. If anything they poured faster, silent.

Walking through the circle of light, a part of Eren began to miss the darkness.

He was very much afraid of the dawn.

There was no time for that though. Really. So often before Eren had felt the need to stop crying, just because. For stupid reasons probably but now it was actually important that he stop because he could just make out a house up ahead. They were here.

As Eren brushed tears away the lamp began to hop faster, clearly eager to reach its home. As its light bobbed erratically Eren caught glimpses of what was ahead: two stories, shutters, planes of wood standing straight as a brigade, distorted reflections against glass, a high-placed doorknob, the edge of an outdoor flowerpot… with every detail Eren learned more and he might have concluded that he was approaching the cabin of an average woodsman, if he hadn’t known better. Maybe that was the point.

They were nearly at the doorstep when Eren acknowledged something else about the house—its light. Though the upstairs was dark the right-hand window was aglow and then, just when they were a few steps away, a shadow inside passed them by. Eren felt a potent mix of trepidation and relief.

“Well,” he said. “He’s here.”

The lamp turned to nod at him a little crazily. It then pulled ahead in a whirl of pumping arms until its light touched the other light emanating from the window. That calmed it and the lamp settled back into immobility. It should have looked ridiculous there, a seemingly electric tool with two arms and gloved hands, standing guard outside a deceptively rustic cabin. But it didn’t. Eren thought it looked right at home.

Armin patted the lamp on its shade as they passed. Eren raised his hand to knock.

The door swung inward before his knuckled had even touched the wood though. There was Erwin. He stood smiling, dressed in brown pants, a white collared shirt, and an apron that read, “YOU’RE MAGICAL, DARLING.”

Eren said, “What” at the same time Erwin exclaimed, “Excellent! You made it.”

They stood in shocked silence a moment—Eren looking at that apron, Erwin staring at the remaining tear tracks—and it was exactly what Eren needed, that single pause, because he’d been so afraid of seeing Irwin… and this was so very, very Erwin. He didn’t need to know the man to understand that. The evidence was literally right in front of him.

Eren coughed. “Uh… so am I the ‘darling’?”

“Absolutely,” Erwin smirked and ushered them inside.

Eren took a tip-toe, then a larger step that brought him over the threshold. He entered with only the tinniest bit of hesitation and was bolstered when Armin swept past, making a beeline for the roaring fire. Petra and Annie followed suit, with Petra once again flying her heavier friend over to a nearby table. Annie slumped against a bowl upon landing, gave a mighty yawn, and curled up with a very impressive snore.

“She’s been pushing herself too hard,” Erwin said and Eren jumped. He hadn’t heard him coming up from behind.

Stepping back Erwin held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. On it’s surface it appeared natural enough but Eren could see the muscles in his arms, the wide stance of his legs. This wasn’t a man who surrendered easily… if at all.

“Sorry,” Eren shrugged.

“No need to apologize. You’re welcome here, Eren.”

“I am?” Hearing his name caused that flutter again, right around his heart. Eren swallowed around it.

“Absolutely. I thought I’d made my allegiances clear back in my dear brother’s office but if you need further encouragement I suggest you rethink your reasons for coming here.” Erwin tiled his head. “You certainly didn’t have to.”

Eren scuffed his bare toes against the rug. “No,” he admitted.

“But you did.”

“…Yeah.”

“Why?” Erwin held up a hand. “I don’t actually need you to answer that, Eren. Just think on it. Regardless, you’re here now and we may as well make the most of it. So… pleasantries first, business after, agreed?”

Erwin guided him towards the table and Eren saw that the bowl Annie had appropriated was full of steaming soup. Stepping closer the aroma of tomatoes wafted up and Eren’s stomach gave a tremendous rumble. He hadn’t eaten since… since last night and that didn’t exactly mean twelve hours around here. Shit.

Erwin caught on quick because he swept to the other side. Numerous other bowls were waiting, equally hot. “Eat,” he commanded and Eren really didn’t need to be told twice. He paused only long enough to urge Armin to join them and then he dug straight into the meal.

It was surreal.

Not just in the eating-with-a-sorcerer-in-a-frilly-apron-and-his-spirit-friends sort of way. The bowl Eren sat before was small, the level of the soup was low, and the spoon he picked up was sort of monstrously large. He expected to finish the meal in just a few bites but when he dipped in the level hardly changed—nor did it change nearly ten minutes later when Eren was still stuffing his face. He hardly noticed that though because the taste… the taste was phenomenal. There were tomatoes yes, but also rice and spices he couldn’t name and what might have been sherry because it tingled along the back of his throat, like a pleasant echo of what Dot had given him. The soup was as rich as butter and it settled in Eren’s stomach with an exquisite weight, filling a hole he’d been ignoring, encouraging him to make super embarrassing noises.

Eren only caught on when he heard Erwin chuckling at him.

“It’s quite alright,” Erwin said. He lifted the bottom of his apron to wipe his mouth. “I can’t imagine you’ve had time to indulge in meals the last few days and my brother isn’t known for charming his food. Too much wasted magic, wouldn’t you agree?” With a sarcastic twirl of his wrist Erwin summoned a steaming loaf of bread. “I personally think it’s worth the effort though,” and he started breaking off pieces, two gluttonous portions for Eren and Armin, and a fluffy bit from the middle for Petra. Leaning against Annie she chirped her thanks. Eren paused only long enough to confirm that, yeah, the bread was amazing before swallowing it down just as quick.

“Can’t you change them back?” he mumbled behind a mouthful. Eren gestured towards Petra.

“Certainly, though they seem quite content as they are, at least for now. Besides, breaking the spell would wake Annie.”

Eren nodded and gave Armin the rest of his bread when he made grabby hands for more. Erwin had long since finished his own meal but he sat patiently as they continued to eat. Eren only stopped when he was able to admit that he was stalling more than enjoying the taste, his stomach long since full to bursting. Armin put down his spoon as soon as he did.

“Done?” Erwin asked.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome but you’re not done yet I’m afraid.” Erwin stood and moved towards an overhead cabinet. At first Eren thought he was getting dessert—which frankly, full or not, he wouldn’t have refused—but instead he pulled down a small collection of scrolls. Taking the one on top he spread it carefully out over the table. Eren saw a whole lot of writing with his own scrawl marring the bottom.

“That’s… mine,” he said. Then in an explosion of movement Eren lunged forward to snatch the paper. “This is mine!”

The scroll felt as thin as air between his hands but the name at the bottom was a solid, unmistakable thing. Eren’s eyes knew it well, the fingers that traced the letters recognized its curves and dips, the only part of him not keeping up was his mouth. Eren tried forming the syllabus and could only emit a growl of frustration when they wouldn’t come. Desperately he looked up at Erwin.

“‘Eren,’” he spoke and Eren relaxed a little at hearing his name. Petra and Armin drew closer.

“I’m afraid the contract isn’t yours though.”

Eren’s eyes snapped back up. The food in his stomach dropped. “What?”

“Not officially. Not in any way that matters.” Erwin sighed, reseating himself across from them. “It’s a copy, Eren. I receive one every time my brother makes a new higher. Not for everyone in the bathhouse of course,” he waved his hand at the open cupboard. The pile of scrolls couldn’t have been more than ten. “Just the ones he draws up contracts for, the ones he’s worried about. It’s how I know your names if he takes them, even when you don’t know them yourself.”

Eren absorbed that, still tracing the letters of his name with a slightly shaking finger. On his left he saw that Armin had summoned another book. He was diligently copying “Eren” over the pages again and again. Each word sank away as soon as he lifted pen from paper.

Erwin smiled sadly. “It won’t stick, friend. So long as my brother holds the contract I’m the only other person capable of retaining these names.”

“Why?” Eren grit out. “Why you?”

“It’s part of our agreement, our own contract, if you will.” Erwin stood, retrieving another scroll from the very bottom of the pile. It was larger than the others and when he unscrolled it Eren could hardly recognize what he was seeing as text, the words were so ornate and they pressed so close together. At the bottom, just like his, were two names. One might have started with an “E” and the other an “I.”

“My brother…” Erwin stopped. His fingers crinkled the edges of the paper. “My brother has always coveted power. Even when we were children, long before we ever died and had the means of obtaining it….”

Smiling at the wide-eyed stares Erwin seated himself once more. His own contract was placed reverently between them. “Yes, Eren. We were human once too. That was a long time ago though, so long that it’s hardly worth mentioning. You think moving to a new town is scary? Try watching the world itself change, over hundreds of generations, the spirit world changing with it. Watch cities crumble and magnificent creatures who once ruled disappear. Moving? Yes, Eren, that’s terrifying. Times that feeling by a thousand and you have a sense of the sort of fear that drives my brother.”

“Fear?” Eren said. He scoffed… but he did know the feeling and now something like it was rolling around in his chest. “Irwin isn’t afraid of anything. And how the hell did you know I was moving?”

“Thresholds, travel,” Erwin gestured to his own front door. “It’s a specialty of mine. When we first began to discover our gift for magic I sought mine through others. What friendships could I make simply by inviting someone inside or through offering them a bit of food?” He pointed now to Eren’s still full bowl, the bread crumbs that dotted his shirt. “I keep watch. Yes, I heard you on the road long before you reached us, Eren. You’re one of the many who’ve come through these parts and to my chagrin I ignored you in favor of the others I heard. A child upset about change… what’s unique in that? In my defense though, had I noticed and had your father continued down the wrong path, I would have steered him right—a suggestion to turn around or even a shortcut you’ll only ever find once—but by the time I looked again…” Erwin swallowed. “It never occurred to me that he might drive straight to the boarder between our worlds. So few humans do. Most… feel… they feel, Eren, that this isn’t a place to approach. But by then your family had already eaten Irwin’s food. Night had fallen and I fear that, for the moment, you were well beyond my reach. Though it did set into motion another friendship that I cannot regret, no matter how terribly it may have come about.” Reaching forward Erwin took his hand, just giving it a quick squeeze. “More than a friendship, I’d say. This is what I do, Eren. I meet others through travel, I listen to them, I help, forge bonds, give freely… and in return I receive magic. There’s great power to be found in alliances, Eren. I personally believe that it’s the greatest power there is. Irwin disagrees.”

Sagging suddenly Erwin ran a hand down his face. It quivered slightly. “There’s not much else to the story, Eren, though I fear it’s one you’ve no doubt heard many a time before. In books, in films…” Blue eyes peeked out from behind his fingers. “Irwin always believed that true power came from controlling others. What better way to command the majority of spirits than through the one place they all eventually came to? The bathhouse. All he had to do was take it from the Reiss family, an easy enough task given that none of them have ever possessed magic.”

“Reiss?” Eren asked.

“Krista Reiss, or Historia as she prefers to be called, when it’s safe of course. She’s the closest thing we have to royalty around here. Her family has owned the bathhouse far longer than I’ve been dead.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

Turning mechanically Eren was glad to see that Armin looked about as shocked as he felt. Well shit. Tiny Historia ruled that massive place, she was supposed to be governing all the spirits there… tiny Historia who swept around the bathhouse like… well, like she owned the place. It actually explained a lot.

“She forgot to mention that.”

Erwin barked out a surprised laugh. “No doubt.” Then he sobered. “Irwin grew worse over the years. Slowly, he had the time to, and he knew he needed it because even without magic, taking a fixture such as the bathhouse is no easy task. The power lies there in its structure and the ties the Reiss family claims; those are difficult to break. I never thought my brother would have the chance, except…” Erwin grew quite. Gently, he extended a hand to stroke along Annie’s back as she twitched in a dream. “There are many more powerful than us… older too. Annie is one such sorceress. All it took was a moment of vulnerability on her part and my brother was able to trap her inside that crystal. I didn’t even know he could draw out magic from another being until I saw him violating her for the first time. No doubt he stole from others in order to capture her in the first place.”

Erwin drew back his hand before he could hurt her. He made two fists and Eren copied them, shaking.

“Then what?” he grit out.

“Then I did what I could… which wasn’t much at all. I played on my brother’s vanity and convinced him that one small handicap couldn’t truly harm him. We struck a deal. I would cease my ‘awful meddling’ if he agreed to a simple request: let anyone who asked for a job at the bathhouse receive one. I was to be given copies of any contracts he drew up.” Erwin looked to the two scrolls before them. “Irwin took the bathhouse and the first contract to appear on the table was Historia’s. Few came after that. Irwin quickly decided that he only needed complete control over those he feared and who among those workers could truly threaten him? Workers came and went, many of whom were friends of my own. I sent them in for information and they all came back with the same story—Irwin ruled with an iron fist and he was getting worse still. I raged the day I learned he was turning problematic spirits into those titan beasts. I wept the first time I heard that he’d fed them a wandering human.” Erwin looked up with wet eyes. “You are far from the first human to be lost, Eren.

“Nevertheless… I did not truly regain hope until Historia visited me one day, years ago. She said she’d remembered her name a few days past, that she’d confronted Irwin about it… which of course came to naught. He only tightened his magical bonds… but she had remembered her name and that was certainly something. The bathhouse is hers after all, my brother is a fool if he thinks he can control her completely within its walls. Luckily this time she came straight to me—brave of her, really—and we decided this time something had to be done. Something new.”

The silence stretched too long for Eren’s liking.

“Something like what?” he finally snapped.

“Corporal,” Erwin said and Eren sucked in a breath. Beside him Petra chirped. “Yes, my dear. You too. And Gunther, Erd, Oluo, Mike… you met Dot didn’t you? I spoke to him and he said that if any group of spirits could take my brother down, it was them. Instead I received six new contracts and Irwin gained six new slaves.”

Petra gave a dejected peep, to which Erwin tried to muster up a smile.

“Now, now,” he said. “If anything the failure is mine. I saw what my brother was becoming long before this occurred and I did nothing to stop it because… well, because he’s my brother.”

Erwin looked to Eren. A single tear swept down his cheek. “Can you understand that?” he asked.

Reaching across Eren took Erwin’s hand and though it was warm, all he could think was that is wasn’t Mikasa’s.

“Yeah,” he said.

That sat in silence a long time.

“Thank you,” Erwin eventually said and he smiled at the three of them in turn. Leaning back he delicately wiped at the tear-track.

“I believe you’re familiar with the rest of the story,” he said. “As I said, I’d lost track of you and your family and by then it was too late. Imagine my surprise though when you not only resisted my brother’s feast but also wheedled him into giving you a job. This,” Erwin tapped Eren’s scroll. “This is by far the last thing I expected to see appearing in my kitchen. And yet…”

“Yet.” Eren agreed. He clacked his spoon rhythmically against the side of the bowl. “You were watching us this whole time?”

“Yes.”

“You sent that dream?”

“I did and I must apologize for it too. I wasn’t expecting my magic to cause any physical harm.” Erwin’s eyes strayed to Eren’s cheek. Only a faint line remained now. “We had yet to meet so I thought a familiar face—Historia’s—would be best to spur you along. Particularly in keeping you close to Corporal.” Erwin shook his head, fondly though. “He’s a foolish boy, I’ll admit that freely. He’s dear to me but that doesn’t lesson the idiocy of his actions. Stealing from Irwin, getting himself cursed…he’s lucky you were around to break it.”

Eren swallowed around the lump developing in his throat. He gripped the spoon harder. “I’ve, uh, been lucky too I guess. I mean, with Corporal and everyone and… stuff.”

“You have.” Erwin gently took the spoon and bowl away. “I’m not so blind as to believe that you haven’t had help, Eren, but you are also to be commended. You’ve brought back something we haven’t had in a very long time: hope. Your friends… your family. All of them would be proud.”

Nodding frantically Eren plunged his face between his arms before the tears started up again. It really was ridiculous but that didn’t mean it was any easier to control. He tried holding his breath and stifling the hiccups but when he felt Armin’s hand along his back Eren let go completely. He didn’t even know what he was crying about anymore—losing his family, maybe not getting them back, everything that Irwin had done to his friends, what he might still be able to do, exhaustion, fear… all of it. Eren just knew that it felt good to take a moment and keep breathing. Beside him the fire was warm and Armin’s fingers were soothingly cool. Eren rested between them even as he heard Erwin stand. The sound of clinking dishes followed the scrape of his chair.

“Take this moment now, child.” He cautioned. Eren heard him running water into his sink. “You’ll need your strength come dawn.”

“Stoppit.” Eren hiccupped. “I’m not a child.”

“Oh of course you are. That’s not an insult, Eren. We’re all children now and then. You’ve been an adult too much these past few days, so just cry for a while. I’m quite content to do the dishes.”

So he did. Except that, oddly, soon after being given permission Eren’s tears began to dry. He didn’t lift his head though until he felt an ice-cold nose pressing against his knuckles. A yawning Annie stared at him, ruffling her fur.

“Hey,” Eren said. She nipped at the sensitive web between his fingers. “Hey! Okay. I’m up, jeez, Annie.”

Chuckling Erwin returned with a tall glass of water. “Both feeling better? Excellent. Here, Eren. Drink.”

Probably for the best that he’d already finished crying. Eren blinked grainy eyes at the water.

“I’m gonna have to swim back,” he whispered and chugged the thing in one long gulp.

Erwin tilted his head. “Is that a problem?”

Was it?

“Maybe. I just…” Eren shrugged. “I don’t like it much anymore. Not always.”

“That’s odd, especially given your friendship with Corporal.”

“What’s that supposed to mea—?”

But at that moment a gust of wind hit the windows like a freight train. It rattled the panes and Eren, closest to the door, felt a breeze coming from the cracks, strong enough to ruffle his hair. Armin lay the flapping pages of his book still with one hand and shielded Petra and Annie with the other.

“The hell?” Eren yelped.

“Ah. Why don’t you ask Corporal for yourself, hmm?” Erwin stood, peering out the dark windows with a satisfied smiled. “I do believe your ride is here.”

“Ride?”

Goggling, Eren stumbled to his feet. Friends trailing behind he rushed to the door and flung it wide, his mind hardly processing what he found behind it.

Standing there—uncut and unbruised, radiating a healthy and all too familiar irritation—was a dragon. A very familiar dragon.

Eren never hesitated. He launched himself at the beast, letting out a shriek of unbridled joy. After that only one word tumbled out from his lips.

Corporal.

Chapter Text

Eren staggered toward Corporal on wobbling legs, nearly fell, but then caught and held himself up against his jaw. This time where was no blood dripping between his teeth or threatening growls issuing forth, just a low rumble—almost a purr—as he let Eren grope at his face like a fool. Eren didn’t care. He buried his nose against the cool scales and twined his fingers in Corporal’s mane. He smelled like rainwater, foliage after a storm, salt, and sea, and everything that Eren normally feared. He hugged it all close to his chest, refusing to let go.

“You’re okay,” he whispered and Eren got a puff of hot air in response to that—clearly the non-verbal version of, ‘No shit, brat.’ Eren laughed as he waved the smoke away.

“Glad to see you’re still a dick,” he said and turned back to his friends.

Annie and Petra were human again. Annie gave Corporal a cool nod, still yawning around her hand, but Petra was crying nearly as much as Eren had been before, all while grinning and doing a happy little dance in place. Erwin looked downright stoic next to her but he was radiating his own brand of contentment. Even the lamp had come alive again, squeak-squeak-squeaking as it bounced in place. The only one who didn’t seem to be pleased was Armin. He lurked in the doorway, giving the two of them a hesitant glance.

“It’s fine,” Eren said. He beckoned his friend over though he still came reluctantly. “Armin… this is Corporal. I’m sure you’ve seen each other around, yeah?”

Armin nodded. He dithered, then summoned a book but kept it pressed close to his chest. He scribbled a moment, crossed whatever it was out, wrote again, ripped the page away entirely, wrote once more… and finally turned the book around to show them. It read, “Hello.”

Corporal’s head lowered in a rather regale gesture and then he was moving past them, stopping just an inch or so away from Erwin. Armin slipped back against Eren’s side as the two came toe-to-toe—or rather toe-to-claw. Rather than backing away from the beast currently curling teeth at him, Erwin calmly lifted both hands and placed them palm down over Corporal’s eyes. He closed his own eyes and together they swayed until, after a minute of silence, he opened them again. Erwin’s eyes held an expression of barely contained satisfaction.

“Excellent,” he said. “Corporal has convinced my brother that he’s here to retrieve Annie. You too, Eren. Apparently Irwin has agreed to a contest of sorts for you to regain your name and family.”

“Contest?” Eren gaped.

“It matters not. We'll be there to help you whether you succeed or not."

Those words seemed to hold meaning that went straight over Eren's head. Annie and Pertra understood though. They moved as one to stand beside Erwin, their backs as straight and taught as any soldier's. Opposite them, Corporal backed up until Eren could once again wrap his hands into his mane.

"You've got a plan?" Petra asked.

"Of a sort. We haven't much time though."

Eren dug his toes into the dirt. "Whaddya mean? We've got until dawn—"

He cut himself off though when Corporal huffed in disagreement. Jerking his head so that Eren followed they faced east and Eren's mouth dropped at the line of light he saw in the distance. It was just beginning to hit the tops of the trees.

"But-but... but we got here an hour ago!" He looked to Armin for confirmation. "Not even!"

"He's summoned the dawn again," Annie growled.

"But how? You said he wouldn't do that, to save magic..."

"And so he shouldn't." In one motion Erwin tore off the frilly apron, casting it aside where it disappeared into thin air. He replaced it with a brown leather jacket. "It seems as if my brother is more concerned with strategy than I would have given him credit for. You agreed to return in the morning? That’s when the test will take place?” Corporal inclined his head. Erwin grimaced. “Then we need to move. No doubt he’s realized that denying us time to formulate plans of our own is more useful than conserving his magic… but he also thinks Annie will be returned to him. He’s counting on it. Let’s use that to our advantage.”

Erwin started summoning maps, spreading them out right there in the dirt. “Annie, Petra—you two stay with me. And Armin? I assume you want to join this fight?”

Within seconds he had a book open, the pages filled with “Yes” written a hundred times in a hundred different fonts.

“Excellent. Then I’ll need you to remain as well. I have something for you, a gift.” Erwin’s hands glowed with power. “The change will benefit us in battle as well.”

Armin stiffened at the word “change” but obediently separated himself from Eren. The desire to help was the only thing stronger than the desire to stay. Still, Eren let go of his hand reluctantly. He pressed himself closer to Corporal.

“Eren?”

“Yeah?” His voice cracked.

“You go on ahead with Corporal. You’ll need to be back at the bathhouse by the time the sun has risen. He’ll claim a technicality otherwise.” Erwin’s face was stern. “The magic will allow it too. He’ll use it as a means of keeping you and your family here, forever. You need to go, Eren. Now.”

Corporal was already scooting his head back against Eren’s knees, lifting him so he tumbled onto his neck. Eren snatched at his mane to avoid falling off completely, letting out a string of curses all the while. He’d never ridden a horse before but his thighs knew how to grip Corporal gently and he dug his heels against the rows of scales. They were slippery under his bare skin.

Then the air changed.

It started just like any wind but one that came from all directions, pushing them down and then upwards in a ferocious whirlwind. Then they were literally off the ground. Eren looked, gasping as he saw Corporal’s claws hovering an inch or so above the soil, scraping clods as they bobbed in midair. It felt like treading water, including the same chill and shortness of breath.

“We’re flying,” Eren whispered. He didn’t think that anyone heard him.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Erwin was saying to Corporal. “Distract my brother as long as you can. If he forces your hand do what you need to… Eren?”

Eren tore his gaze away from the space between them and the earth. “Yeah?”

“Fight.” Erwin said.

“… What?” he repeated dumbly.

Erwin only took a step forward, his face a mask of intensity. “Fight.”

And Eren understood.

“Right!”

There wasn’t time for anything else. No sooner had the cry escaped his lips then Eren felt the earth truly falling away below them. His hair whipped across his eyes, he dug his fingernails between the cracks of scales, and then his friends were becoming just the tinniest dots. Eren shook his head and managed to get a last glimpse of them all: Erwin and Annie standing stoic but faithful, Petra waving madly, Armin holding up a sign Eren was now too far away to read. He could only hope that he wasn’t missing out on some super important advice or something.

“Let’s go!” Eren shouted, half just to hear his own voice. They were already gone though. Up into the clouds, then plunging back down to skim along the trees. Eren saw the lights of the bathhouse far in the distance and swallowed his growing fear. There was crisp air and a reunion to drink in instead.

“Let’s go, Corporal, let’s go!”

They flew, the two of them, speeding together towards the dawn.

***

They couldn’t have been flying more than two minutes when Corporal took a sharp turn to the left. The sun was rising full speed now and as the night lights of the bathhouse spluttered out Eren noticed that the ones remaining were condensed. Something was happening at the main gate so…. that’s where their course took them. Emerging from the trees they flew over the river-turned-sea. Eren watched the blue ripples passing below.

“Can you take us lower?” he whispered.

What a stupid thing to ask but if Corporal found it odd he didn’t show it. Instead he dived, twirling halfway with a speed that made Eren shout with both exhilaration and fear. When they pulled level again the water was right at their feet. Eren could touch it with his toes if he just stretched a bit.

No one was more surprised than him when he actually did it.

The water was cold, little droplets of ice that splattered against his ankles. Eren saw his own reflection staring dumfounded back at him.

“This feels familiar,” he said to it.

And it did: the speed with which the water passed, the rocking of the body under his legs, even the green of Corporal’s hair in comparison to the blue below. Hardly daring to think through his actions Eren lay until he was flat against Corporal’s back. Like this he could reach his arm out too, letting his fingers skim the waves they created. Daring, he plunged his whole hand in and came out with a sip. Eren drank from his palm.

The water went down easy.

“This is stupidly familiar,” Eren said, smacking his lips. He pressed even closer to Corporal, placing his mouth to where, on a human, his ear might be. “Like... this is freaky, okay? I’ve done this before. I know I have. I nearly drowned, Corporal.”

It was an admission. There might have been tension now in the scales but Eren was too preoccupied to notice. His eyes remained on the water while his speech picked up speed, words tripping over themselves in an effort to escape. Then they truly caught momentum. They flowed.

“I... I was on the beach. With my dad. I love my dad. I know that sounds stupid but things have been kinda shitty lately and... just yeah. I love him. And mom. And Mikasa. I found her on the beach, Corporal. No.” Eren shook his head, his breath picking up speed with his words. “No. I found her in the water. She was drowning Corporal, or she would have, I’m sure, if I hadn’t gone out there. Is that... what? Conceited? Fuck. But I saw this white spot and everything was so dark and I knew, I just knew that something was out there. I swam because I’m good at swimming and I found Mikasa and she... she had rope burns all over her arms, did you know? From where she was caught. Even with everything wet they still rubbed her skin away and in the hospital I kept thinking about how much it must hurt which was stupid because she’d just lost her parents. Stupid, shitty rope isn’t going to hurt more than that... I gave her a scarf. I think it helped. And I got her out, except...” Eren swallowed. “Except I didn’t. Not really. She was so heavy, Corporal, and the wind was so strong. The water too. We were sinking. I... I couldn’t breathe. I was dying. Then...this happened.”

Eren ran his hands over the scales, feeling Corporal trembling beneath him. “I didn’t swim back!” He cried. “I know I didn’t. I died, except I didn’t. Someone pulled me out…you pulled me out.” Eren knew it was true the second he said it. The truth felt cool and weightless.

“You were there, Corporal.” He whispered. “Don’t you remember? It... it was the sea. The Levi Sea. I… Corporal—I think that’s your name!”

The flash of light was blinding enough that Eren cried out, shielding his eyes. When he tried to grab at Corporal again there was nothing to hold onto. Scales and hair alike were flying away, carried off by the wind before they disintegrated entirely. Eren kept clutching, feeling the body he was sitting on growing smaller—and this time he caught onto what felt like fabric. A shirt: complete with a chest and arms that wrapped around his. The fingers dug into Eren’s skin.

Through the jewels of light around them Eren finally found Corporal’s face.

“That’s your name!” he cried again, grinning. Corporal’s eyes were wide.

“Brat,” he said and that was all the warning Eren got.

They plunged into the water. But this time—like last time—Corporal didn’t let go.

***

“This is the most horrible of all horrible things,” Hanji growled and slammed her fist onto the railing. Again.

She stood with... well, everyone. The entire bathhouse’s population spread out on the balconies behind her, overlooking the main entrance. At the very front were those who had a true reason for being there: Sasha and Connie, the soot-balls, Jean and Marco, Moblit, and Hanji herself. It was Marco who snatched her wrist before she could do any more damage.

“It’ll be fine,” he said.

“And if it’s not?” She shrieked right back. Marco lowered his eyes. There hadn’t been much time between when they’d returned to the bathhouse and when the sun had started to rise, but what time they had they’d dealt with in fears—fear of Irwin calling them up to his office, of their human not making it back, of all the numerous, terrible things that could happen the next day. Then the next day arrived and an announcement had shaken the bathhouse.

“A test,” Jean spit. Then he literally spit, half hoping it would hit Irwin below. “Who the hell does he think he is? Testing the kid...”

“It’s more of a chance than anyone else has gotten,” Marco said.

Jean glared. “Are you actually defending him?”

Marco glared in turn. “Of course not. But magic is binding. So whatever happens... they’ll both have to keep their ends of the bargain.”

At least, that’s what Irwin’s voice—booming out over them all—had said just an hour before. His devoted Corporal had gone out, risking life and limb to retrieve the human and a number of other “radicals.” The human had apparently stolen something quite precious. Of course, Irwin was a man of mercy, but even he couldn’t overlook such a heavy betrayal. At sunup the human would undergo a test. If he won he was free to go. If he lost he would stay to pay off his debt.

“Debt!” Moblit cried indignantly. Connie had to clamp a hand over his mouth, lest the sound carry. An angry stream of mutterings could still be heard though.

“Yeah,” Sasha agreed. She stuffed a roll into her own mouth. “A debt that lasts his whole human life I best. Afterlife too.” She hissed and chomped violently.

“How the hell can you eat at a time like this,” Jean marveled.

“Gonna need my strength,” and she touched the bow hidden at her feet.

At that, all of them straightened. Connie drifted a hand over his slingshot and Jean touched the dagger under his shirt. The rest of them hadn’t brought weapons but that didn’t mean they didn't’ possess hands, feet, and teeth.

“You think we’re gonna need all this?” Connie asked. His gaze drifted to all the other spirits. They gossiped, twittered, utterly oblivious.

“I think,” Marco said slowly. “That if Human wins the magic will force Irwin to let him go.” He swallowed. “But once Human is free... once the contract is null...”

“Irwin can do whatever the fuck he wants,” Hanji said. Her whole body was tight and coiled, now more of a snake than a squirrel. “I’d like to see him try.”

“Corporal.” Jean said. It was a reassurance, the most he was willing to say with Irwin so close. All of them knew without a doubt that Corporal would never betray Eren. They felt it. Whatever Irwin thought was going to happen... he was wrong.

At least, that was the hope.

“Two minutes!” Irwin called. His voice was gleefully manic. He held a pocket-watch in one hand, his other tracing the path of the sun. In two minutes it would have risen and Eren would have lost his chance.

“Hurry up.” Jean muttered. “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry—”

“THERE HE IS!”

The shout came from a spirit far above them, one with a better view. In seconds Hanji and the others were able to see it as well—two figures following the path to the bridge.

They were walking hand in hand.

“They made it!” Sasha cheered. She and Hanji launched into a ridiculous side hug but no sooner had they started than the cheer was dying down. A hush settled over the crowd as Eren and Corporal reached the entrance. Irwin held equally still.

It appeared as much anyway. In truth he was shaking, a violent tremor that started from his hands and rolled up through his chest. His eyes, if any of the others had been close enough to see, were blazing.

“I see,” he said.

And Irwin did: the calm that had settled on the human and spirit alike, their walk that was perfectly in synch, the way their fingers intertwined so tightly that all the knuckles were white...

How they were both sopping wet.

“That was the test, wasn’t it, you shit?” Corporal said as soon as they were close enough. He looked around, noting that there was nothing but the spirits and the river below you them. “You were going to tell the brat he had to swim.”

Beside him Eren stiffened, even though he’d realized the same thing just moments before. A part of him wondered if he’d have been able to do it.... jump in, with everyone watching, with Irwin standing above... he didn’t know. All Eren was sure of was that his shorts were already weighted with river water and his hair was plastered to his head. Corporal’s hand was slick between his.

“I already have,” Eren announced and shook his head as evidence. Droplets flew.

“Before sunrise too,” Corporal said. Was there pride in his voice?

“Doesn’t that fulfill the contract, brat?”

“I think it does.”

“Well, well. Then hand it over, Irwin.”

Irwin, for his part, appeared to be seizing. Eren was sure he wouldn’t let him go, no matter what Erwin had said about magic binding him… but then his hand rose into the air, seemingly pulled by an invisible string. It twisted and a single sheet of parchment popped into existence.

Eren could see his name written at the bottom.

“Look at you. Still making demands.” Irwin’s voice was level, more controlled than any would have expected. Those above exchanged silent glances, thinking that perhaps he was content with this outcome. Eren was close enough to see his eyes though and there was no shred of contentment there.

As always, Irwin still had a plan. Fuck all if Eren was going to let him follow through with it though.

Corporal’s nails forced notches into Eren’s skin. He knew. They settled their weight as one, expecting the unexpected.

“A deal is a deal, Shifter.” Irwin purred. “Even I can’t deny that... ah. Or should I be calling you ‘Eren’ now?”

Above them the contract began to burn and as it did Eren could feel the bonds lifting from around his heart. They’d increased the moment he’d stepped onto the bridge with Irwin, thrumming a terrible beat, but now they constricted only once more before dissolving completely. It felt like something tangible was loosening from his chest and Eren opened his mouth wide to let the awful substance free. When he felt like he could breathe again—lungs still loose and murky from the water—he parted his lips in a familiar rhythm.

“Eren.” Eren said and he smiled.

“EREN!” Came a shriek above him and he looked up to see Hanji. She was leaning over a balcony, just close enough that she could hear their voices. She said his name for the first time since their meeting, with more jubilation than he could have hoped for, and within seconds the others were taking up the cry. His friends chanted it, tasting it, while the spirits who hadn’t gotten to know him joined in with respect. Even those who hadn’t seemed to care for him contributed. Eren saw a toad who’d shoved him on the stairs and a cat that had sneered his way. They seemed pretty content with his presence now.

“Eren,” Corporal said. The word was soft. He didn’t take his eyes off Irwin though.

“Eren,” came the screams from his sides. “Eren,” came the calls from above. Eren heard his own name reverberated back to him in a hundred different voices, each one causing the tick in Irwin’s jaw to grow. His breathing grew more labored with every recitation... but his hands remained at his sides. He did not raise them and thus he cast no spells. No fire yet flew their way.

“You do realize this changes nothing between us.” Irwin finally said to Corporal. His own voice was audible above the cheers. “I see you let Annie fend for herself... your precious Petra too. Our own deal is moot, Corporal, and you’ll work for me for as long as I choose. Tell me, was this human worth it?”

Corporal smiled. An actual lifting of the lips that drained all the blood out of Irwin’s face—and brought a happy flush to Eren’s.

“I don’t need your deal, you sack of shit.” Corporal said. His mouth was still twisting upwards. “I found my own name. I took it back and fuck all if I’m ever letting you get your hands on it again. Right, Eren?”

“Hell yeah, Levi.”

It was Corporal who lifted his hand first, summoning a scroll with his own name written at the bottom. Irwin stiffened when he saw it appear—then he lunged. The crowd went quiet as he stumbled and grasped and failed, the paper rising triumphantly over his head.

“I don’t cast magic,” Corporal boomed. “But I’m damn good at breaking it!” and he sliced his hand down through the air.

The paper tore itself to shreds, raining down in a blaze as each piece set itself aflame. Eren skittered backwards and fell, partly trying to avoid the mess of fire, partly scared of the violent jumble that Irwin and Corporal had become. The former was leaning forward, hindered by the latter’s hand caught in his shirt, a scream of rage unlike any Eren had heard issuing in waves from his throat. It went on and on, his right hand twisting spastically, looking as if he was having some sort of fit. Except that it really did go on, too long, until it almost sounded like...

Like its own recitation.

Like a call.

Eren felt the bottom of his stomach dropping away right when Corporal seemed to realize it too. He stepped forward, attempting to clamp his hand over Irwin’s mouth, both of them shaking. When that didn’t work he hooked one arm about the sorcerer’s waist and drew a gleaming blade with the other. Eyes locked on the right hand—the one summoning something—Corporal sliced downwards and neatly Irwin’s right arm at the shoulder. Eren felt the breath being punched from his lungs as he watched the limb flop to the ground. Blood began spreading out in a fan.

Irwin’s voice ceased but he made no sounds of pain. Head hanging, sweat dripping from his hair, his eyes rose back up to look directly at Eren.

“Too late, Shifter.” He said.

There was a beat of true silence. The spirits above them stood stunned, Corporal wheezed with his sword dripping blood, Eren dug his fingernails into the wood of the bridge, and then...

That’s when he felt the tremor.

It came from behind, sweeping down from the path and into the boards beneath him. Eren clung tighter, feeling like the very earth was rolling like a sea in storm. Something was definitely coming—and fast.

“Titans.” Corporal whispered and Eren nodded, his own eyes wide.

Titans.

“Get inside!” Screamed a voice from above. All heads shot up. It was Historia, standing tall atop the bathhouse’s entrance roof, the burned remains of her own contract held in hand. Beside her stood Bertolt, Reiner, and Ymir, already drawing swords of their own. She’d donned a white dress similar to the one dream-Historia had worn and Eren watched as she balled the skirts in her hand, glaring down at her subjects.

“This is my bathhouse, stolen from me by that coward!” A finger was shot out like a lance, pointed at a heaving, bleeding Irwin. “As your employer I demand that you get inside. Leave now before—”

Before that. One moment Eren was still lying prone on the bride, the next he was in Corporal’s arms as they dove out of the way, a stampede of titans crashing through the small gate. With a roar they ran straight at anything that looked remotely edible, their cries drowned out only by the screams of the spirits. They certainly didn’t need to be told twice. As Eren lay stunned atop Corporal’s chest, hidden in the bushes off to the side, he saw his coworkers rushing back through the doors as Historia desperately waving them on. The titans were only a few steps behind.

There looked to be twenty, maybe more, but Eren was more concerned with their characteristics than their number. Rising unsteadily to his feet he looked for any with that size, that hair, those bits of red trapped near its neck—any that looked like his family. Eren didn’t even realize he’d been walking towards them until hands clamped down hard around his waist.

“They’re not here—brat! They’re not here!” Corporal shook him, taught breaths puffing against his ear. Eren could feel him sweating. “They reverted back the second that damned contract burned, so just… just… fuck. We need to go.”

“Go?” He said dumbly. Go where? His friends were right in front of him.

Most of the spirits had made it inside—the titans held off by Ymir and the others—but one managed to scoop up a squealing toad, his legs jerking in terror. Eren stood, convinced he was about to watch him be eaten alive… until an arrow hit the titan square in the eye, followed closely by numerous stones. It reared back as Sasha and Connie stepped aside, allowing Reiner to move in for the kill. They used the height of the roofs to their advantage, landing neatly atop the titan’s head and carving out a section of its neck. The thing toppled like a skyscraper and when Eren though that its body would crush the others… it was suddenly halted by a wave of magic. Annie burst from the path followed closely by Petra. Erwin brought up the rear, his arms held high and magic thrumming from his palms. He scowled when he saw them standing off to the side and a slab of guilt began settling in Eren’s stomach.

He was supposed to be fighting.

“What are you waiting for?” Erwin shouted. “Get out of here!”

What?

“You heard the man. Move.” Corporal grabbed hold of Eren’s arm, already tugging him away.

Eren stirred. “But we have to help…”

“You can help by moving your skinny ass.”

“No!” With a wrench Eren broke free but Corporal was right there again, his hands tight as iron bands around his wrists. He pressed right against Eren’s back and spoke directly into his hair, the words overly sharp and brittle.

“What exactly do you expect to do, Eren?” Corporal hissed and Eren shivered at hearing his name. “Kill one of those? Get yourself killed? No fucking way. You’ve done enough, dammit. Who the fuck do you think they’re fighting for? Are you going to throw that away, brat?”

“Too right!”

Eren heard the shout and turned to find Hanji breaking through the mayhem. Jean was beside her, his knife already soaked in blood and he had a wild look about his eyes that Eren had yet to see. They both skid to a stop beside him, heaving.

“You need to leave,” Hanji said. “Now.”

“But…”

Eren paused. But what? Isn’t this exactly what he’d wanted? To leave, to return to his family… to escape? Jean seemed to be thinking the same thing because his jaw dropped the second the word left Eren’s mouth.

“But nothing!” he cried.

“But nothing,” Hanji agreed. She knelt. Corporal was still half-hugging him from behind but she took his hands, giving them a vicious squeeze. “Are you blind now, huh? The tide is turning. We’ve got this, so don’t worry your stupid little head about it.” A hand moved to his cheek. “Annie and Erwin and Historia… we’re stronger together. That bastard is down and he’s gonna stay down this time. It’s over and it’s time you went home, but do you really think for a moment you’re actually leaving? That we’d leave you alone? Trust me, human.”

Eren gulped, tears escaping down his cheeks to wet her palms. “Eren,” he blurted. “I’m Eren.”

“But you’re Human to me.” With a grin Hanji dropped his hands, pushing him further back into Corporal’s arms. “Go.” She said, turning away. “Go!”

So he went.

They were moving again, Eren stumbling backwards, refusing to look away until he absolutely had to. He saw Krista, Ymir, Bertolt, and Reiner fighting in a tight group, taking down titans at a staggering pace. Marco, Sasha, Moblit, and Connie were still on the roofs, helping from afar. Petra was guarding the last of the vulnerable spirits; Annie was raging with a terrifying efficiency, power radiating about her like a storm. The last was Irwin. He stood in the middle of it all, face pale and his shirt stained red, watching them leave. Before they rounded the bend Eren saw Erwin coming up from behind to bind him, Hanji moving to block them from his gaze… and Jean, who lunged forward and punched Irwin straight across the jaw.

Eren cracked a grin.

***

Things moved fast after that, almost too fast for Eren to process. Corporal’s hand was in his, small and slick with sweat as they tore through the village. There were no spirits here now. With the sun shining bright overhead it could have been any town, sleepy and peaceful, even the one Eren had once resided in. The only distinguishing feature was what they were leaving behind: cries of battle and the occasional roar of a titan.

Eren couldn’t help but throw a look or two over his shoulder.

“They’re fine.” Corporal snapped. They both jumped a series of loose tiles, taking the upcoming steps three at a time.

“Are you just saying that?” Eren cried back.

“Dammit, brat! If I say they’re fine, they’re fine. So just fucking shut it and run, would you?” Corporal took a sharp left and then an eerily familiar stretch of meadow came into view. “There,” he breathed, almost reverent, even as Eren felt his own breath coming to a halt.

“The water.” He said. “It’s gone. I can walk across now…”

Corporal nodded. “Your parents woke up on the other side as soon as your contract burned. I can’t go any farther though… fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, tightening his hold on Eren with the other.

“Go,” he said, echoing Hanji. The word was the exact opposite of his actions though. He held on. “Go, fucking go, just don’t look back until you’ve crossed through the tunnel. If you pull an Orpheus on me, kid, I’m gonna be beyond pissed… do you even know who Orpheus was?”

“No.” Eren whispered.

“He was an idiot. Don’t be him. Now go.”

Eren stared out at the stretch of grass. A few of the taller blades rolled in the wind, becoming him forward and warding him away. He wanted to go home, of course he did… but were they ever going to see each other again? Eren squeezed Corporal’s hand until the ache could be felt in both their bones.

“Eren.” Corporal pleaded. “You didn’t listen to me the first time, brat, so listen to me now: go.”

Eren went.

His fingers slipped through Corporal’s and then his bare feet were sliding through patches of dirt, toes kicking up tiny pebbles along the way. The air and the sun and the violence of before had dried his clothes, but the wind still left a cool shiver running through him. Or maybe that was something else entirely. Eren ignored it, taking the hill at a run until bits of grass were flying away and his lungs were screaming in a way he simply couldn’t. Eyes to the ground, tracing his progress, he didn’t look up—didn’t look back—until—

“Eren!”

He jerked to a dead halt and said, “Mom?”

She was there, standing beside his dad, looking for all the world as human and impatient as ever. Between the two of them stepped Mikasa. A red scarf was restored around her neck, caught in the wind that currently felt like it could bowl Eren over. He just stood there. Breathing.

“Where have you been?” Kalura called. She raised a hand to shield the sun from her eyes. “Eren? We’ve been worried sick!”

“You—?” Eren spluttered. “You’ve been worried… no. No, no, no,” and he took off running again.

Frankly, he was expecting tears once more. Something, anything, everything to mark this moment. Instead Eren was dried-eyed and smiling as he came to a grassy stop before his family, the four of them standing in an almost ceremonial circle: Kalura with her hands on her hips—but shaking her head fondly—Grisha checking his watch, Mikasa already reaching for his hand. Eren grasped at it desperately.

“Oh fuck,” he said.

“Eren! Who taught you that?” Kalura gaped but it surprised a laugh out of Grisha.

“That’s a fun little word, huh, son?”

“Grisha, really.”

“Aw, c’mon. You’re blind—deaf really—if you think boys his age don’t curse.”

“Yes but that’s no reason to encourage him—”

“Corporal, he…” Eren started to say but they had already turning from him, heading back the way they’d come. He watched them, wide-eyed, then moved his gaze to Mikasa’s hand. She gently pulled the scarf away from her mouth.

“Who’s Corporal?” She tiled her head, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong? Something happened.”

“Yeah. Yeah it did but… later.”

Mikasa nodded. Eren could feel her curiosity rolling off in waves but she knew when to keep silent. She always had. Instead she tugged him forward for once and Eren went, hesitating for only the briefest moment..

Don’t look back.

Though a part of him really wanted to.

Into the tunnel, one hand still attached to Mikasa, the other finding his mother’s arm. “Don’t cling so much, Eren.” She said. “You’re going to make me trip.” But all her words did was make him hold on tighter. Halfway through, when it was darkest and they still had half a way’s to go, Eren felt an “I’m sorry” bubbling up in his throat. He swallowed it down, content with leaving imprints in Kalura’s arm and hearing his father walk beside him. By the time they’d reached the light of the other side his mom had gone from huffing in annoyance to laughter in confusion.

“Really, Eren, what’s gotten into—where are your shoes?!” Back in the sunlight she yelled at his feet.

“Uh… oh. Right.” Looking down Eren spotted his own grimy toes, wiggling guiltily. “They’re—”

“Here!”

No one was more surprised than Eren when the shout came from behind.

He whirled, safe now having passed the edge of the tunnel, and saw a figure approaching. Mouth hanging open Eren watched as a sandy-haired boy about his age came barreling out of the darkness. He had the bluest eyes Eren had ever seen and the only thing he could think was that they looked otherworldly… and ancient. There was also something familiar about his expression, earnest and knowledgeable and unbearably hopeful. Eren didn’t fully understand though until he spotted the book tucked under one arm.

“Armin?” He whispered.

“Yeah,” came the stuttered response. His eyes—human and bright and bearing no markings—flit between Eren and his parents, uncertain. “I… I’m… Erwin says goodbye—” Pronounced one way, not the other. “And he says… thanks.” Eyes jumping back to his own, human body. A gift. Magic. Proof. “Also that you forgot your shoes.” Armin scrubbed a foot against the dirt, looking very much as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it.

Eren nodded. Dumbly. He didn’t feel his free hand taking the shoes and slipping them awkwardly onto his feet. He didn’t feel anything until he’d taken Armin’s hand too. The three of them formed a chain, Mikasa peering curiously at this new addition. Her shoulders were relaxed though and there might have been a happy, if bemused, smile hiding behind her scarf.

“Well you’re… making quite a lot of friends today, huh, Eren?” Grisha raised his eyebrows, looking the most confused of them all. “Good. That’s… good. Armin was it? You need a ride, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kalura nodded enthusiastically at his admission. It wouldn’t have mattered of course. Eren and Mikasa were already dragging him forward. It also wouldn’t be the first time they’d picked up a stray.

“Hop in then I suppose… goodness.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Eren thought he heard his mom saying, “I told you” as they scrambled into the backseat. Sure enough, with seatbelts donned—helping Armin through each tiny, human step—the adults significantly cleared their throats.

“Maybe you’ll make some more friends at school after all.” Kalura said. She looked back at him hopefully.

“Maybe.” But Eren wasn’t really listening. The car started to move, taking them all backwards, and as it did the three of them turned to look out the back window, compelled by invisible strings. Rounding the curve, the edges of the trees pulled back and the sea came into view. Eren leaned towards it eagerly. Face pressed to the glass he watched as the waves rolled up and then down, taking all sorts of secrets with them. One secret was intimately familiar though. There, skimming just beneath the surface was something indescribably large and fast. It flew amidst droplets of green and blue, weaving in a manner that held just a hint of playfulness. Armin bounced in his seat, Eren’s face was fit to bursting with his smile, and the softest gasp alerted him that Mikasa could see it to: that something. That wonderful, familiar something. Between the powerful sun and the illusion of the waves, one might have foolishly thought they were looking at a dragon. A dragon that was following their car faithfully, all of them moving in the same direction.

Grisha peered at his kids through the rearview mirror, misinterpreting their expressions. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, Eren. And I get it. A new home, a new school… it is a bit scary.”

“Yeah.” Eren agreed, smiling. “It is. But after school… do you think maybe we could go swimming?”

Fin.