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Chapter Text

Mikasa's world consisted of a haze of blurred vision and the gentle buzzing in her ears. She blinked, and the figures on the paper before her solidified into numbers for a heartbeat before fading out once again. Trying it a few more times didn't yield any better results. It only made her aware of how much her eyes burned and how heavy her eyelids were. How heavy her entire head was. How easy it would be to just slip forward and… 

The buzzing reached a crescendo. A hand reached out to grab her shoulder. She jerked back upright to find Armin sitting across the table from her, one hand still extended and a worried expression on his face. 

Mikasa faltered. Words played at her lips, semi-contradictory things like 'it's fine' and 'what's wrong', but none of them felt right enough to actually be voiced. Instead, Armin was the one to break the silence. 

"When's the last time you slept?" he asked. 

Mikasa sighed. He must be really worried if he was cutting straight to the point like that. 

"Don't worry about it," she said, even though she knew it wouldn't work. 

Armin's frown deepened as a hint of disapproval trickled onto his features. He pitched his voice into a whisper to say, "you don't need to go out every night. You can't- you shouldn't be doing this alone."

"I do," Mikasa countered. "I'm the only one who can. You know that, Armin."

There was one girl in the whole world charged with keeping the forces of darkness at bay. She couldn't cast that duty aside just because she was tired.

It was with that thought that she realized that her gaze had begun to drift back toward the table. She snapped it back up as Armin asked, "does Erwin know how thin you're wearing yourself?" 

Mikasa pursed her lips. "Erwin's only been here for a few weeks. He'll get used to it."

"You shouldn't be used to it," Armin insisted, the softness of his voice warring with the rapidly mounting undercurrent of anxiety. He was still talking, too, about how Erwin wouldn't approve and she would be more productive if she wasn't dead on her feet. She didn't absorb any of the actual words, his voice fading back out into that gentle, incoherent buzzing.

Then there was a flicker of movement as something faded into sight in the corner of her vision, and everything Armin said became utterly doomed to sail right over her head.

Mikasa very determinedly did not look at the figure. She didn't turn her head and didn't allow her eyes to move in his direction beyond that first involuntary twitch. It didn't matter. He leaned forward, and she caught a glimpse of the green eyes peering out from what she knew would be a placid-yet-piercing expression.

"He's right, Mikasa," he said. "You need to take better care of yourself."

She allowed her eyes to flicker shut even though it did nothing to block out the man's voice. The voice of her own imagination.

"You've always been like this," he sighed. His voice had a whisper of warmth in it today, a touch of fondness tucked within what sounded like age-old resignation. "But you shouldn't. You're at your best when you have our friends with you."

Something flickered within her at the comment, although she was pleased to note that she managed to keep it within. There was no need to remind the hallucination that she didn't have any friends. Not even Armin, truly. Because for all that they were fond of each other, no amount of fondness could ever make up for-

"-kasa?"

It was the hint of iron intertwining itself with the worry in Armin's voice that got her to open her eyes. Mikasa forced herself to look at Armin and only Armin, who was leaning halfway across the table at this point.

"You really need to get some rest," he said. She moved to open her mouth, but he cut her off by asking, "you don't have trigonometry for five more hours, right?"

Mikasa nodded.

Armin gave one short, decisive nod, which appeared to be more for himself than anything. "You should take a nap, then."

The shift in her expression was subtle, just a faint downward turn to her lips, but apparently still enough for him to catch, because he quickly added, "you're going on patrolling again tonight, aren't you? Even a couple of hours would be better than nothing. I promised to meet up with Annie in a little while, but. I could walk you home?"

Mikasa didn't bother asking who Annie was, but she didn't protest either. She could see the logic in his argument, even if it felt painfully like a waste of time. "No, it's alright," she said. "I can walk myself."

Armin frowned. "Okay, but you will-"

"Go home and take a nap. Yes." She was already standing up as she finished agreeing. If she was going to keep her word, then it would be better to get it done sooner than later. The earlier she left, the sooner she could return. "I'll see you tomorrow," she promised.

With that, she turned around and left without taking another look at the boy who maybe, in another world, could have been her friend.

Or the distorted memory of Eren Yeager.

*

Mikasa laid in her bed and closed her eyes.

*

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Cl-"

Coughing. Choking, sputtering, straining, a strain in her chest that turned into an ache resonating throughout her entire body. A pain worse than anything she had ever felt in her fourteen years.

Shouting. Rushing. Urgent voices talking rapidly. Not to her, with her aching body and spinning vision, but to each other. White coats and flashing lights. They were talking, talking, and there was something she had to say, something more important than the flashing lights or the unreal pain or the whisper of strength that shouldn't be there. There was something, someone, she had to ask about-

Her voice cut off in a hoarse croak when she tried to speak. Her throat stung, like it had been worn ragged by- by-

Salt.

Memories flashed by her in a dreadful kaleidoscope. The parents. The men. The boy. The other man, the one they'd thought would help. The sea - he'd thrown them in the sea, her and-

A jolt of energy. Mikasa forced herself upright and grabbed the wrist of the first person she saw. Surprise was on his face. Surprise and discomfort; her grip was stronger than it should have been. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was-

"Eren," she croaked.

"Eren." The white-coated man's voice was softer than she needed it to be. Focused on her. He needed to be focused on not her. "Is that your name? Eren?"

Through parched lips and a throat like sandpaper, she croaked out, "where's Eren?"

The man gave her a long, sad look. No. No. He shouldn't be looking at her like that.

"He saved me," Mikasa pressed. "Then he- the-" monster “- we went in the water together."

One faltering moment that lasted for an eternity.

The man redirected with talk about her. What's her name, can she describe what she's feeling, she's okay, it'll all be okay - it didn't matter. It didn't matter and it wouldn't be okay. It didn't matter, because in that moment, he didn't need to answer.

His expression spoke only of death.

*

She woke up feeling more awake, but just as tired as she had been before.

*

Mikasa didn't even try to pay attention during trigonometry. The nap may have refreshed her to some degree, but not enough for that. Besides, she still had a solid C. Spending class zoned out was... admittedly detrimental, considering that she had been in a similar state for her last two classes, but not so devastating that she wouldn't be able to recover from it. She would just have to cram as hard as she could once she had the opportunity to spend a few nights on her classwork. It wasn't a pleasant routine, but it had gotten her through her first two semesters of college. She could make it work for this one as well.

Besides, she had more important things to spend her brainpower on.

A girl had been marked absent during roll call. Mina Carolina. A single absence was not unusual in and of itself, but although Mikasa couldn't claim to know Mina well, she had not seen the girl take a day off before. That didn't mean that she couldn't - she could be well and truly sick, or an emergency could have popped up. People took days off all the time, even those who normally didn't.

The trouble was that there had been a marked increase in people turning up absent lately. Most of them never returned. There were no bodies found or hints as to their whereabouts. They were simply never seen again.

Mikasa didn't want to feel a sense of distant mourning. She wanted to hope that Mina would show up at their next class with some excuse for the teacher about how she can sick or had to deal with an unignorable situation. However, that same part of her had also wanted to hold out hope for Franz and Hannah when they disappeared from her American Literature class, and now they were nothing but faces on missing posters.

The semester had only been in swing for a month and a half. Mina would be the third victim person she had shared a class with. Not third overall - just that she had shared a class with specifically. When she scaled the radius up to encompass the entire campus, she would be the fifth disappearance.

According to Erwin, Paradis' level of supernatural activity was on the low side of average. She suspected that that was the reason he had been hinting that they should relocate. He felt that she was wasted here, and as her Watcher, he wasn't comfortable doing nothing about it, no matter how new to his position or unwelcome he was. And truthfully, five people disappearing off of a college campus during the first semester and a half wasn't unusual. College was stressful. She didn't know the details regarding two of the disappearances, and even with the couple who had seemingly disappeared off the face of the like, a human culprit was just as likely as a demonic one, if not moreso.

So why was she so certain that Mina Carolina had met her death at some point since she had last seen her?

Why did she feel like she had failed to stop it?

Once the feelings of dread and guilt grew strong enough for her to be actively aware of them, Mikasa decided to redirect her attention to the students who were there. 

Armin probably would have been one of her classmates if she hadn't insisted that he not take any classes that run past sunset and directed him to the morning trigonometry course instead. However, it wouldn't have been a large class even with him and Mina. 

Four of the students scattered across the room were unknown to Mikasa. However, her seat near the back of the room allowed her to keep an eye on them with relative ease. That, in turn, allowed her to be fairly comfortable in her assessment that they were normal human students. 

She could say the same of her four other classmates as well. They, however, were a little higher on her radar. 

Closest to her, his desk seated directly in the last few rays of evening sunlight, was a muscular blond man. Mikasa thought that his name began with an 'R', but didn't know much else about him. He'd caught her attention with a loud, outgoing personality and general demeanor that made him seem like an odd fit for the class. At the moment, it looked like he wasn't paying much more attention than Mikasa herself, fiddling with the ring on his left hand and only occasionally glancing up at the teacher. 

The blonde next to him was as much of a stranger, but she at least looked like she was focusing. She had gained Mikasa's attention by joining a week after classes had started. Since then, however, she had proven quiet and distant, only interacting with her classmates when she glared at the man next to her for trying to talk to her while she was working.    

Jean Kirstein, meanwhile, clearly didn't want to be a stranger. Over the past year, he had made a few attempts to reach out that she could admit were enduring. If she didn't have her duty, he might be someone she could consider a friend. As it was, she couldn't bring herself to do anything but brush him off, for his own sake. He didn't pay her much attention in class though. That wasn’t to say that he was completely focused, even though he had claimed a seat at the front of the class. She often glimpsed him speaking to the student next to him. There’d also been enough instances when she’d heard a frustrated comment from him regarding the course for her to get the sense that trigonometry wasn't particularly easy for him. However, she also suspected that he was hardworking and dedicated enough to make up for it.

The student next to him was Marco Bott. Cheerful and painfully earnest, he was honestly mostly notable to Mikasa because he was Jean's friend. He seemed like a good person though. That meant he was a reminder of why Mikasa couldn't let Jean become her friend no matter how hard he tried or let herself rest no matter how much Armin tried to insist. If she faltered, if she slowed, there would be consequences.

Mina used to sit behind Jean and Marco.

The sound of chairs being pushed back and writing implements being put away drew Mikasa out of her stupor. Rather than look at the clock, she glanced out the window.

The sun had already begun to set.

She quickly stuffed her textbook, pencil case, and notebook in her bag, feeling only a brief pang of guilt for the blank sheet of paper that stared back at her. The items landed haphazardly, and she knew that if she looked, they would likely only partly obscure the stake, crossbow, and knife that laid carefully arranged at the bottom. She zipped it shut before anyone could get curious and try to sneak a peek; a reflex even though she knew that no one would be bold enough to try that with her.

Despite being the last one to start getting packed, she was the first one out of class. Just like she always was. From there, it didn’t take long to get off the campus.

The first two blocks of Mikasa's walk went like she was heading home. It was as she reached the third - the one that would have lead back to her apartment - that she took a sharp right. From there it was four blocks straight on, then one block to the left. A simple route, but one that had come to haunt her nightmares.

Dusk had descended on the cemetery by the time she reached it.

Logically, she knew that she wasn't likely to run into anything for several more hours.

Instinctively, she knew that Mina Carolina wasn't likely to return to class.

This wasn't a night to take risks.

Mikasa wandered deeper into the graveyard, where she was less likely to be spotted by any passerby, and pulled out her stake. There, she began to wander.

It wasn't a small cemetery by any means. That was what made it the ideal hive for demonic activity. Not only were cemeteries where the majority of newly turned vampires rose, but large ones were also rife with additional dead bodies and crypts. This one was even separated into several different sections, which made it easy to get lost.

Getting lost made it easy to watch the time slip by.

A couple of hours into her patrol, a familiar figure flickered into existence at the edges of her vision. She didn't say anything to him, and he followed her silently, gaze occasionally flickering to one side or another as he took in the graveyard. As if he might notice anything before she did. Technically speaking, she supposed that he might. He had "caught" things a few times in the past, when she was subconsciously aware of something but hadn't been fast enough to process it with her conscious mind. It was the only thing that made sense, for all that she desperately wished that it wasn't.

A slayer whose hallucination needed to point things out for her couldn't mean anything good for the world.

She forced herself to look away from the figment and focus on her surroundings.

Not five minutes later, the sound of shifting earth caught her attention. Mikasa turned and strode toward it, her grip on her stake tightening and her gaze fixed straight ahead. Within seconds, she had spotted it; a grave with the earth beneath it stirring. As she watched, a hand punched up and out of it, grasping desperately at the ground. The head came next - an unfamiliar man, his face distorted by lumps across his forehead and nose, slitted yellow eyes, and fangs. The visage of a vampire prepared for predation. It glared at her as it struggled and snarled, eventually freeing its other arm. Once that was done, it had a much easier time dragging itself to the surface.

It never got the chance to free itself fully. The second its chest was completely exposed, Mikasa sprang into action. She grabbed the thing by the lapels of its dirt-stained tuxedo and dragged it upward. Fear flicked across its face, causing the predatory features to fall away and leaving a normal face behind. A face that could have been human if she didn't know better. She didn't allow herself to look closely.

In a blink, she had rammed her stake through the vampire's chest and into its heart. It dissolved into dust a few seconds later. Mikasa stood and watched the flecks flutter back down to earth.

She was drawn out of her reverie by a firm, "you shouldn't be patrolling tonight."

Mikasa grit her jaw. "I already rested," she pointed out.

"It isn't enough. You've been exhausting yourself, one little nap isn't going to make up for that."

"You just saw me kill a vampire."

"Yeah, and it took way more out of you than it normally would."

Mikasa whirled around to face the figment. Something in her chest threatened to hitch as she allowed herself to look directly at him, just as it so often did, even years after he first manifested.

The thing before her almost could have been a ghost. It wasn't though; god knew she had done enough research on the subject. Ghosts, when they visibly manifested at all, took the appearance they wore at their time of death or at another point in their life.

Eren Yeager had been fourteen when he died. Even if he responded to the same name, this grown man with distant, unreadable eyes couldn't be him.

He wasn't anything. She'd run all of the tests as she learned more about the Supernatural. She wasn't haunted, there weren't hints of a demonic presence lingering around her - there was nowhere he could have come from other than her own mind.

He was nothing but a manifestation of her guilty conscience. She had come to terms with that years ago, yet she was still wasting time arguing with him.

At that instant, it was suddenly very tempting to look away. However, she forced her gaze to remain steady as she coldly said, "leave."

The figment blinked. "Mikasa-"

"No," she interrupted.

Something flickered in the illusion's eyes. It was difficult to identify, caught behind that distorting wall that so often covered his emotions, and she didn't even bother to try. He opened his mouth again, but she didn't let him get another word in.

"I'm not willing to put up with you tonight," she said. "Get out."

His expression finally came together into something real and visible. Alarm. "Mikasa, move!"

Mikasa lunged to the side just in time to avoid being grabbed by the shoulder.

She spun around to find a burly vampire standing over the ashes of the one she'd just killed. He was musclebound and bulky enough that he might be somewhat difficult to face in hand-to-hand combat - but not so much as to stand a real chance against her. "Slayer," he snarled. "I am going to grind you into dust."

Mikasa didn't bother responding. He lunged forward and she spun to the side, ducking beneath his flailing fist to get behind him. As she moved, she noticed that Eren had disappeared. Good. She sprang forward, stake in hand, only for the vampire to swing back around at the last moment and grab her wrist. He squeezed, a horrible grin on his face, and she had to fight to keep from automatically releasing her grip on her stake.

As the vampire leaned forward, she twisted to punch him in the sternum with her free hand. It only made him falter for a moment, but it was enough for her to wrench her wrist out of his grasp. It was also enough for her to come to a terrible realization.

Her blows weren't as hard as they usually were and she was moving slowly.

Eren was right.

There wasn't any time to ruminate on that. The vampire lunged forward, and Mikasa dove to the side again. She leaned into the momentum and swung her leg out to land a kick to the vampire’s side. He stumbled, a curse on his lips.

It didn't bring her any sense of victory, for as she brought her foot down, it landed on uneven ground. Not observant enough.

Pain shot up her ankle and the world began to tilt.

Eren still wasn't anywhere to be seen. Funny. If her mind was going to conjure up even a distorted version of Eren Yeager, she would have expected it to happen when she died. She had thought that he would watch.

Mikasa hit the ground, the side of her head slamming hard against a flat gravestone. The world continued to spin around the sound of the vampire chuckling. She clenched the hand holding her stake, only to find that it must have fallen out of her grasp during the fall.

She forced herself to sit up, hands pushing hard against the ground to make up for the way the world was spinning around her. When she looked up, the vampire was glaring down at her. She tried to stand up, to scurry back, but her ankle gave out when she tried to bear weight on it. A sprain - just a sprain - nothing that wouldn't heal in a couple of days with her abilities, but even a sprain couldn't bear weight immediately. The vampire was saying something now, but she couldn't make out the words, couldn't hear anything past the buzzing in her head, couldn't feel anything but the sensation of warm blood oozing from the cut in her head.

The vampire was reaching for her.

She hadn't wanted to take a risk, and because of that, she was going to die tonight. And Eren wasn't even there to see it.

Maybe that was fitting. She hadn't witnessed his final moments either. Maybe he wanted her to die alone as well.

The vampire's hand closed around her neck. She forced herself to look up, to at least look her death in the eyes-

- and the vampire exploded into dust. In his wake stood the blonde girl from her trigonometry class, stake in hand and gaze locked on Mikasa.

The girl said something. Mikasa blinked, hearing her words, but unable to process them. The girl frowned, and Mikasa grit her teeth, just to give herself another sensation to focus on.

"Repeat that," Mikasa ordered.

The girl extended a hand. "I asked how badly injured you are," she said.

Mikasa ignored the hand and moved to force herself to her feet. Her injured ankle protested once again, but she bore the majority of her weight on her other leg and managed to get upright. "I can handle it," she said. "Who are you?"

The girl didn't seem at all off-put by Mikasa's blunt question. If anything, she seemed like she expected it. "Annie Leonhart," she said.

She paused for a moment. It did nothing to prepare Mikasa for her next, impossible words.

"I'm the slayer."

*

Weeks later, armed with only an axe, her memories, and the desperate research of a lonely girl scared she was losing her mind, Mikasa went hunting.

She found the one who had snatched them from the bodies of the original monsters and tossed them into the ocean.

She took his head, and he turned to ash at her feet.

Chapter Text

"The slayer," Mikasa repeated, disbelief flat on her tongue. She let go of the woman’s - Annie’s - hand and took a step back. "I'm the slayer."

"I thought you might be," the woman - Annie - said. "That's why I came here. I thought-"

"No," Mikasa cut her off, already shaking her head. "There's only one slayer at a time. You're..."

A lie. An imposter. Impossible. Mikasa took another step back, forcing her feet into a more solid stance despite the fresh wave of protest from her injured ankle.

"I'm telling the truth," Annie insisted. She drummed her fingers against her stake as she spoke, as if its mere presence somehow landed her words credence. "A new slayer is called when the old one dies. Normally that would mean that there's only one at a time, but..." Her lips pressed together. Now it was her turn to look suspicious. "I suppose I'm the one who should be asking questions," she finished.

"She's right," a voice said from behind her, soft, contemplative, maybe even a touch mournful.

She didn't need him to remind her of that. The thought was already dancing around within her, forming a lump in her throat and clawing at the backs of her eyes. Nonetheless, Eren whispered, "you died, Mikasa. Remember?"

Of course she did. The memory had been lapping at her heels for the past several days, relentlessly haunting her in those few moments that she laid down to sleep. It had been easy to brush it off as a combination of guilt and exhaustion. Now, however... Erwin had told her that slayer's dreams tended to be more meaningful than most. She had assumed that it didn't apply to memories, but as she stared Annie down, she wondered if she might have been drowning in her dreams for a reason.

Assuming that Annie was telling the truth.

"Who's your watcher?" Mikasa asked, not daring to drop from her stance or come any closer.

Annie blinked. "Watcher?"

"From the watcher's council," Mikasa pressed.

"Oh." Annie frowned. "I didn't... know that was a thing."

Mikasa pursed her lips. In theory, that probably shouldn't have boded well, but... Erwin had found her less than three months ago, even though she had been called years before that. Everything she knew about being the slayer prior to his arrival had been cobbled together from encounters with various demons after she was called. That much, there had been no denying.

The council was supposed to guide the slayer and help combat against the forces of darkness, but they had already failed once. What were the odds that the council would have found a second slayer when they had no idea that they were even looking for one? 

Had the council really been so incompetent that they left her to go through the same thing as her?

Mikasa's expression remained guarded and unreadable as she continued. Meanwhile, Annie was visibly trying to do the same, but she couldn't quite hide the whisper of anxiety making its way against her expression. Eventually, she broke and asked, "will your watcher help treat your injuries?"

He would if she went to him.

She didn't want to. That wasn't Annie's business though.

"Does it matter?" Mikasa asked. As she spoke, she went to shift her stance a little, her muscles growing stiff from being trapped in the same position for so long. That was a mistake. She was hit by a fresh wave of dizziness from her head and discomfort from her ankle, causing her to stumble a few centimeters. It was a very slight misstep, but Annie caught it, her lips dropping into a slight frown.

"You're dead meat out here in this state," Annie said. "If they won't, then let me help you."

Mikasa stiffened. She turned her head, almost imperceptibly - just enough to catch a glimpse of Eren lurking a few paces behind her. He hadn't been there to watch the vampire go for her, but he was here now. Did that mean that some part of her sensed that she was out of danger? Or had he showed up because the real threat had only just arrived? Even if she was a slayer, it didn't mean that she was to be trusted. It didn't mean-

"I don't know what you should do," Eren confessed, stepping forward and looking Mikasa in the eyes. The eye-contact was brief and promptly broken off by Mikasa. As she shifted her gaze back to Annie, she thought her peripheral vision caught the whisper of some expression flickering across his face. He continued on in spite of it. "But if she planned on hurting you, I think-"

He went silent as Annie spoke, seemingly finishing his line for him. "If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already." She paused, gaze intensifying as she looked Mikasa up and down. "I wouldn't have had to do anything. You've already taken care of that by going out in your state."

Mikasa bristled. She knew that Annie was right, painful to accept though it may be. That wasn't the thing that pushed against her nerves. It was that this woman - her apparent savior - felt the need to go ahead and point that out.

"So why did you?" Mikasa asked, voice short and clipped. "Why are you here?"

Annie answered immediately, her voice earnest despite the hint of discomfort. "Because we're both slayers," she said. "The only ones in the world, presumably." She gave a bitter smile and held her hands up placatingly, one thumb pressed down to keep her stake held in place. "I'm not saying we need to be friends, but our lives will probably be a whole lot easier if we help each other out."

It made sense. If there truly were two slayers, then in theory, they could bear to lighten their loads by half. Or do a whole lot more. But that would require both of those slayers staying alive. It made sense, and yet, Mikasa hesitated.

To her credit, Annie caught on quickly. She lowered her hands with a heavy sigh. "I'll answer any questions you have at my place," she said. "But not here, with you half dead."

Mikasa gritted her jaw.

At the edge of the vision, she saw Eren step up to stand beside her. "Mikasa, I know you're strong, but you're not invincible," he said. "You need help."

I know, she didn't say, even though she knew that she did, at least for tonight.

Instead, she unclenched her jaw, took a deep breath, and said, "fine."

*

The journey to Annie's house was silent. She didn't offer to help Mikasa walk, for which she was glad. It was already bad enough that she had noticeably slowed her pace to accommodate her limping.

"We're here," Annie murmured, coming to a halt in front of an unobtrusive little house placed on a street corner. A street corner that was only two blocks away from the cemetery. Mikasa frowned, unable to decide if the location was smart for its convenience or foolish for its risk. The frown deepened when, after a short walk up to the patio, Annie opened the door quickly and easily.

"You don't lock your door?" Mikasa questioned.

Annie shrugged. "No need."

Mikasa pursed her lips. Potential reasons for Annie's viewpoint flew through her head; she'd certainly considered them herself a few times. A slayer should be able to deal with any intruder. The odds of a home invasion were unlikely. If some thing truly wanted to get in, a mere lock wouldn't be enough to stop it. She had considered them many a time, wondered if she was just being paranoid.

Those considerations never changed her actions. She still kept her door locked, regardless of whether she was home or not. Even if it didn't stop whatever was trying to get in, it could slow them down. That was important. It was important to remember that every moment counted. It was important to remember that slayers were strong, but they weren't infallible, and with that strength came a target painted on their back.

It wasn't even just slayers. Normal people could stand to be a little safer too. Home invasions were rare in Paradis, but they did happen.

Not that Annie seemed to care.

She strode through the entryway, either unaware of Mikasa's displeasure or simply failing to care. As Mikasa bristled, the phantom that had followed them all of the way there stepped in ahead of her. "Give her a chance," Eren urged. "You haven't really met her yet."

What I've seen so far doesn't seem worth knowing, Mikasa thought. Nonetheless, she moved to follow Annie into the house, hesitating for a moment at the doorway, then walking right through Eren when he didn't get out of the way quickly enough.

It would probably be easier if she just let it slide. And yet...

"You should sti-" Mikasa's words evaporated as she followed Annie into the kitchen. There was a person in there. A tall man about their age, sitting slumped over at the island, reading a book. He looked comfortable. Not an intruder, no, he looked like-

The stranger looked up. "Annie," he called, eyes glittering with excitement that turned into concern as he noticed Mikasa. They met eyes, and Mikasa's confusion deepened. She'd seen this guy around before. Only a few times, and only at night. Quite frankly, she'd entertained the thought that he was a vampire last time she saw him. His general nervous and soft-spoken demeanor was what had made her second-guess her assessment. A good thing, she supposed, because that was looking very much impossible now. Assuming that she was right, assuming he actually-

The stranger turned his gaze back to Annie. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Bertolt, get the first aid kit," she said, a hint of a sigh in her voice.

The man - Bertolt - stood up with a nod and scurried out of the kitchen. Annie walked over to the island and set down her stake. Eren wandered over to lean against the stove, idly taking in his surroundings. Meanwhile, Mikasa just stood there and stared. This woman claimed to be a slayer, and yet...

"You live with someone?" Mikasa demanded, her voice suddenly returning to her.

"Of course," Annie said. "I couldn't afford to pay the rent myself."

"And does he-"

"-Know?" Annie interrupted. "Of course." She leaned against the island and crossed her arms, preemptively daring Mikasa to challenge her. "Bertolt and Reiner have been with me since I first got my powers."

Mikasa gaped. Meanwhile, Annie stared, not quite judgemental, but certainly assessing.

"Is your watcher the only one that knows about you?" Annie asked.

"No," Mikasa admitted. "But there were mitigating circumstances."

Annie raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that there weren't with me?"

Mikasa pursed her lips. "That's not the point," she said. The point was that she avoided living with anyone, even though it meant that she couldn't afford more than a tiny apartment. The point was that she took measures to make sure that no one was truly dragged into her world. The point was that she didn't dare let Armin close enough to truly consider him her friend - or for the rest of the world to notice. "What you're doing is dangerous."

"And striking off on your own isn't?" Annie countered. As she spoke, Bertolt returned, carefully placing the first aid kit on the island and nervously glancing between them. Annie didn't so much as pause. "There are benefits to having a team."

"Do they help you?" Mikasa asked. The idea was preposterous. Annie might have been a slayer, but her roommates certainly weren't. The very demons that she could go toe-to-toe with would turn them into mincemeat. "You're putting their lives at risk."

"Maybe sometimes," Bertolt piped up. He had migrated over to a corner and was leaning against a wall of cupboards, fidgeting awkwardly. "But she's also saved our lives plenty of times too. Maybe we can only help her a little, but that's still something. And, well, I'd rather know the truth and be able to do something about it." He paused, and something in his gaze seemed to harden. "Especially since if anything happens to her, it means that everyone will be a lot less safe."

"They have a point," Eren mused.

They might have. Mikasa's head was reeling too much to really think about it right now. She thought it was because of what they were saying, but judging from the myriad of concerned and alarmed looks she received in that instant, she supposed it may have been the head wound.

"Come here," Annie said, reaching for the first aid kit.

With a small sigh, Mikasa obliged.

Once she was within reach, Annie took Mikasa and guided her onto one of the stools surrounding the island. Her touch was gentle yet firm.

Mikasa watched out of the corner of her eye as Annie opened the first aid kit and opened a packet of antiseptic wipes. She was prepared for it, yet couldn't quite refrain from wincing when Annie took one of the wipes and carefully dabbed at her head wound. The blonde didn't apologize, but she did pause for a second before slowing down in her ministrations. Before long, the first wipe was bogged down with blood and she had to reach for another.

They sat in silence this way for several minutes, Annie tending to Mikasa's wound while Bertolt and Eren stood by, human and illusion both equally unobtrusive. It was shattered by Annie saying, "the person that knows about you. It's Armin, right?"

Mikasa went stiff as a board, the distrust and alarm bells that had begun to fade from her mind making a striking return. Annie noticed and took a cautious step back, which Mikasa took as an opportunity to give her a long look, searching for any sign of deceit. She hadn't mentioned Armin to Annie. She had been very careful not to mention Armin to her, not to anyone. How could she-

"Armin mentioned her earlier," Eren remarked.

At the same time, Annie said, "Armin and I study together. He's mentioned you a few times, and you don't seem like the type to have many friends. That's all."

"Oh." Slowly, the alarms in Mikasa's head began to fade. The surprise meant that they lingered to some degree, but now that she'd been reminded, she recalled that Armin had mentioned an Annie. It added up in that sense. Annie's own conclusion, while a little insulting, was also accurate. Mostly. "He's not a friend," Mikasa murmured, allowing her gaze to drift down toward the floor.

"Right," Annie said, the corner of her lips twitching upward. "Too dangerous."

Mikasa sighed. "Are we done here, or..."

That got Annie and Bertolt to pipe up at the same time. The latter started to say, "you're still really-" only to cut himself off when he realized that Annie was also speaking.

For her part, Annie sighed and allowed her gaze to drift upwards for a moment. It wasn't quite an eye roll, but Mikasa got the distinct sense that she was tempted. "No," she said. "Not yet."

With that, they lapsed into the same silence as before; at least for a little while. As Annie was setting aside the final wipe and reaching for a tube of antiseptic ointment, the room was shaken by the distinct sound of a door opening. Mikasa's attention snapped to the entryway, and within a way moments, a large blond man walked by

"Reiner," Eren murmured in the same instant that the newcomer paused and peered into the kitchen. His eyes met Mikasa's, and for the third time that night, she found herself surprised by a familiar face. He was the guy from her trigonometry class, the one who sat next to Annie and liked to pester her.

She supposed it made sense. Annie didn't seem like someone with a bunch of friends either.

The newcomer - Reiner, if Eren was to be trusted - took a step further into the entryway. Eyes still trained on Mikasa, he said, "you're-"

"Yes," Annie interrupted. Now that Reiner had shown himself, she seemed content to return her attention to what she was doing. She didn't even bother looking up from the bottle of ointment she was opening as she spoke.

Reiner nodded slowly. "Right. And she's-"

"Yes." Annie squeezed some of the antiseptic onto her fingertips and carefully dabbed it onto Mikasa's wound.

This new distraction made it easier for Mikasa to avoid wincing this time. "They know about me as well?" she demanded.

"Of course," Annie said, voice flat. "We help each other."

Mikasa frowned, but didn't press the subject. If Annie was completely sold on involving her cohorts, fine. There was a more important question at hand, a question that she'd let wait for too long. "How did you find out about me?"

"Demons talk," Annie said. "I got a lot of comments about how I'm impossible and the slayer is supposed to be in Paradis." She closed the tube of antiseptic, set it back in the first aid kit, and began rummaging for the bandages.

"This is impossible," Reiner said. He walked over to lean against the counter beside the oven - inadvertently taking a place beside Eren, who was eyeing him contemplatively. "Everything we found about slayers said there's only supposed to be one at once." He frowned and crossed his arms. "Granted, it wasn't much," he conceded, "but it all said that a new slayer is only called when the old one dies."

"I died," Mikasa said, voice empty, refusing to let herself feel what she was saying. There was no avoiding this. At least she could get it over with sooner rather than later. "The EMTs revived me. But for a few minutes, I was dead."

Reiner's frown deepened. He looked for all the world like he wanted to say something else, but Annie shot him a look, and the expression fell away. He sighed, and a sympathetic one took its place. "I'm sorry you went through that," he said.

"Thanks," Mikasa murmured.

"Well," Bertolt interjected, the anxiety clear in his voice, "it's good that you know about each other now, at least. Maybe you can work together?"

He was right. Mikasa knew he was right. Two slayers had to be better than one, and the logical thing would be for them to help each other. However, the thought of committing to working with this woman she'd just met still made her pause.

Thankfully, Annie spoke up before she had to. "Don't make any assumptions," she warned Bertolt. Even so, as she turned back around to face Mikasa, bandage in hand, she gave her a brief, hopeful look; a reminder of her earlier offer.

Mikasa sighed. "I'll think about it," she said.

"That's all we can ask," Bertolt said.

Annie didn't comment. She opened up the package of the large bandage she was holding and brushed Mikasa's hair out of the way before gingerly pressing its edges down around the cut on her temple. This, she noticed, was less uncomfortable than cleaning her wound or applying the ointment. It was almost soothing.

With her head wound taken care of, Annie returned to the first aid kit and pulled out a roll of beige adhesive gauze wrap. Mikasa took the cue to extend her injured leg. Annie crouched down before her and deftly removed her shoe. Mikasa frowned, but didn't comment, a little embarrassed that she hadn't thought to do it herself.

Compared to the near-hesitancy with which she'd dressed the wound on her head, Annie was surprisingly quick and effective at wrapping her ankle. "You're good at this," Mikasa remarked.

Reiner laughed. "She should be! Annie hurt herself all the time as a kid."

"Reiner," Annie warned, standing up and shooting him with a flat look.

This time, her attempt at intimidation didn't have much effect. "It's true."

Annie frowned, Reiner's grin widened, and Mikasa couldn't help but stare. It was odd seeing a slayer interact with someone like this. Someone she had a personal history with, someone she was friends with. It was dangerously tantalizing for all that it was foreign.

Mikasa pulled her gaze away. "I should get going," she said.

"Are you sure?" Bertolt asked, shooting a glance at her ankle. "Annie or I could drive you."

"I only live a few blocks away," Mikasa said. She was aware that it wasn't entirely true, that the distance was probably closer to a mile and a half from this distance, but she wasn't about to say that. "It's been long enough that I should be able to walk that far." This much was true. The walk would agitate her ankle a bit, sure, but the wrap would minimize additional damage, and what she incurred would likely heal while she slept.

Annie looked hesitant, but eventually nodded.

Taking that as her cue to go ahead and leave, Mikasa stood up and took a few steps, then paused just as she was about to leave the kitchen. It took a few seconds to get the words out, but she eventually managed, "thank you. I'll see you later."

She left before any of them could respond.

*

The household was quiet for several minutes after Mikasa's departure. They all lingered in the kitchen, staring at the doorway, as if the slayer might pop back up at any second.

Finally, Reiner tilted his head back and sighed. "She's gone." He shifted to peer at Bertolt, then Annie, the unspoken 'we can speak' in his gaze.

Annie frowned. "Are you so confident that your hearing is better than a slayer's stealth?" she asked.

"I'm confident that she doesn't seem like the type to stick around and eavesdrop," he said.

"She seemed... sincere," Bertolt said. Annie almost wanted to snort upon hearing it. The impulse faded completely with his next words. "It kinda sucks that we have to..."

"Kill her?" Reiner interjected.

Unlike Bertolt, Annie managed to refrain from frowning. Even so, Reiner gave both of them a long look before pointing out, "that's the job." His voice was light and cheerful, carrying all of the ease that she and Bertolt lacked, like he was talking about getting groceries rather than killing a slayer. It crawled under her skin and made her want to try and claw it out.

That wouldn't do anything. Instead, she went for the itch that she actually had reason to scratch.

"A job that you're making harder," Annie snapped. She stood up a little straighter and walked over to stand in front of Reiner. "You didn't need to kill Mina."

"I was hungry. I weighed down her body and dropped it in the river, so it's not like we'll get any trouble from it," Reiner defended. "Besides..." He paused, his eyes meeting Annie's. The casual air he had been maintaining dropped into something far more grave and serious. "You seemed like you were getting attached."

Annie bristled. In that second, she was tempted to call Reiner out for hypocrisy. He was ten times more social than she was; if anyone might endanger the mission through attachments, it was probably him. The trouble was that it wouldn't work, because it wasn't true. Reiner was a soulless bastard who could probably turn on his so-called friends at the drop of a penny without any trouble at all.

Then again, maybe it was unfair of her to blame his behavior on his lack of a soul. Bertolt didn't have a soul either; no vampire did. Bertolt didn't put on the same friendly act as Reiner, but he still managed to be less impulsive and cruel at the end of the day.

Maybe Reiner was just an overconfident, hypocritical jackass by nature.

There was no point in calling out Reiner's hypocrisy, so Annie settled for glaring at him and saying, "I've told you plenty of times that I don't care about anyone here that much."

"I'm just being careful."

"No, you're making excuses to be greedy."

Bertolt stepped out of his corner, a flicker of worry on his face. "Guys, do we have to fight about this?" he asked.

Annie gave him a long, tired look, which quickly turned into one of agitation when Reiner held his hands up and said, "hey, I'm not the one who's fighting."

"I'm not fighting," Annie ground out, slowly turning her gaze back to Reiner. "I'm saying that you're being stupid. You want to hunt on campus? Fine. But if you keep killing people we interact with, people will get suspicious no matter how much time you spend in the sunlight."

"She's right," Bertolt tentatively interjected. Reiner shot him a frown, and he quickly amended, "I'm not saying that you're stupid. But we can't afford to take too many risks." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm already worried about how we're going to hide my nature from the slayer. Maybe we should have come up with some sort of story."

"Like what?" Annie asked.

"Maybe we could say that I was cursed with a soul or something?" Bertolt mused.

Reiner laughed. "A vampire with a soul? How lame is that."

"It's happened before," Bertolt protested. "Although, I'm not sure if I'd be able to pull it off. It's supposed to be pretty emotionally devastating..."

"It's still ridiculous." Reiner shook his head, then waved his hand - and the ring that adorned it. "If it comes down to it, I'll just let you borrow the gem. Make sure that she sees you in the sunlight a few times and you're set."

"You're lucky to have that thing," Annie grumbled.

"I am," Reiner acknowledged. He stood up a little straighter and gave her and Bertolt a serious look, clearly trying to play the role of inspiring leader. Fun. "But we're going to need more than luck to pull this off. We need the slayer to trust us, and I doubt she's going to make that easy."

"I think we're off to a good start," Bertolt said. "She seems pretty isolated, but Annie did a good job trying to convince her she'd be better off with a team."

Annie frowned, but didn't bother pointing out that Bertolt had done most of the work. Meanwhile, Reiner blinked in surprise.

"Annie? Talking up teamwork?" He let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. "I'd pay to see that."

"Then pay," Annie said. "What I want to know is why we didn't just take her by surprise. I could have taken her out tonight if we did that."

Oh, Annie knew fully well what Reiner's convoluted logic was. They had been over this several times before. That didn't mean she didn't see the benefit in making him run through it again, just on the off chance that he might change his mind about this whole charade. She couldn't say that she felt very bad about inconveniencing him with it either.

Alas, Reiner didn't seem particularly perturbed to repeat himself for what had to be the seventh time. If anything, he looked a little smug to hear his plan out loud once more.

"Slayers know to expect attacks from strangers," Reiner said. "Unless we're able to kill her immediately, the element of surprise wears off after the first attack. But if she trusts us first? Even if she survives the initial assault, that will slow her down for a while.

"Bertolt, you're right in that you'll need to be cautious. You can help when you get the opportunity, but until it's time to act, Annie and I will need to do most the of work. As long as she doesn't find out about the Gem of Amara, I can keep her from finding out that I'm a vampire; she'll have no reason not to trust me. And Annie. Even with the state she was in, she might have escaped if you tried to take her out tonight. But if you're able to get close to her first?" Something akin to appreciation flickered in Reiner's eyes as he paused, mingling with the excitement that was oozing off of him. She ignored how it made her stomach twinge. "You're a slayer. She won't stand a chance."

Annie allowed herself to think of the strong, cold, sad woman she met today. Of how she had seemed so convinced that she had to be alone, of the flicker of hope that had shown through the distrust.

"You're right," Annie admitted. "She won't."

Chapter Text

Erwin called Mikasa after trigonometry the next day, just before she could start her patrol. When she didn't answer, he sent a text. That, combined with the knowledge of just how rarely he texted, made her pause. 

Smith: Meet me in my office

Smith: It’s urgent

Mikasa frowned down at the message. To say that she didn't relish the thought of jumping at the watcher's beck and call was an understatement, especially when doing so would delay her patrol. However, despite her attempts to avoid him, she had come to realize that he was not the sort of man to use words like 'urgent' lightly. For him to do so now…

Mina hadn't returned to class that day.

Mikasa pursed her lips and allowed herself to get lost in her frustration as she gazed down at the text for a moment longer. Then, with a furtive glance at the rapidly darkening sky, she shoved her phone in her pocket and turned on her heel. 

It was a short walk to Erwin's office. Located on the second floor of the English department building, it wasn't especially large or convenient, but it was simple. Inconspicuous. It was, she supposed, what he could manage as a teacher at a community college, for that was what he was to the public.

She wasn't certain how he had convinced the administration to allow him to paint the walls pink.

Armin had suggested that it was because he was charismatic. Personally, she didn't see it, but that didn't particularly matter. None of it did, in the end. She was probably going to be told about a particularly vicious vampire preying on college students. Or maybe a flesh-eating demon, considering that there hadn't been any remains found. Whatever it was, it would be horrible news. And if she was going to receive that horrible news inside a small pink room, then she was going to receive that horrible news inside a small pink room. The only thing that mattered was that she learned what she had to learn and killed what she had to kill.

The whole thing was perfectly laid out in her mind. Perhaps that was why she didn't bother knocking when she reached Erwin's office; she thought she knew what to expect.

She didn't expect to open the door and find four people crowded around Erwin's desk, one of them holding a red-stained cloth to his neck.

Mikasa automatically stumbled a step back at the same time that five pairs of eyes swung toward her. It was with a faint burst of surprise that she realized she could recognize all of them. Reiner was standing in front of the desk, his face a mask of grave urgency. Jean sat in a chair beside him, clutching the cloth to his bleeding neck. Whereas Reiner seemed unsurprised by her arrival, Jean's eyes were wide and shocked. Finally, a pair of goofballs from her history class stood off in the corner, whispering frantically to each other even as their gazes remained locked on Mikasa.

They only stared at each other in silence for a moment. It was a moment too long for Mikasa. With a tense knot of discomfort growing tighter within her by the second, she turned her attention to the person she least wanted to see right now, but most needed to hear from.

"Erwin," she croaked. "What's going on?"

"Mikasa," Erwin began, his expression steady and voice damningly even. Like his urgent matter hadn't just called her into an office full of civilians. Like it didn't look like something was happening that was very much not supposed to happen. "There was an attack on campus today."

"A vampire attack," Jean muttered, the shell-shocked disbelief plain in his voice. Reiner gave him a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder. Jean immediately winced and rubbed his free hand against the base of his neck, causing Reiner to withdraw with an apologetic look.

"A vampire attack," the ponytailed goofball repeated, her voice a conflicted mixture of excited, awe-struck, and terrified. Her friend, meanwhile, just looked horrified. It was a look that she saw mirrored on Jean's face, although he also seemed a little more distant and nauseous. Probably because of the blood loss.

Mikasa tried to ignore all three of them. Even so, she couldn't help but shoot brief glances their way every few seconds. Erwin, however, had no such problem. He just spared Jean a short, semi-concerned glance before continuing. "Mister Kirstein was attacked in full view of Miss Braus and Mister Springer. I arrived just in time to see the vampire dispatched by Mister Braun." He paused, casting a long, searching look at Reiner.

"And now they know," Mikasa said, unsure if she was numb, or feeling too many things at once. She supposed it was a good thing that Eren wasn't there. The office suddenly felt too damn claustrophobic without an extra presence, even one that didn’t really exist.

"Well, I've known about stuff like this for a while," Reiner admitted with a shrug. Despite having the full force of Erwin's piercing gaze on him, he managed to look only a little uncomfortable. At another time, she may have been impressed.

"I thought you might," Erwin said. "Most civilians don't walk around with stakes on them."

"Is that what that was?" the bald goofball murmured. There was a distant, shaken quality to his voice. Mikasa could understand it, but couldn't quite get herself to care right now. Heedless to her judgment, the goofball continued. "A vampire killing thing? I've seen it before, when you were getting stuff from your bag. I just thought you were really into woodworking."

Reiner blinked. "I'm terrible at carpentry," he said.

"Really?" the bald guy asked. "You don't look it."

"Are we really having this conversation right now?" Jean whispered.

"No," Mikasa cut in.

To Erwin, she asked, "why did you call me here? Do you think this vampire is the one responsible for the disappearances?" Three civilians finding out about the existence of the supernatural had the potential to be bad, but she didn't see how calling the slayer into the situation could make it better. She couldn't see how getting her involved could do anything but make it worse.

But if Erwin had called her in to talk about the vampire, why did it sound like Reiner had already killed it? And why did he call her in while everyone else was still there?

"I doubt it," Erwin said, lending unfortunate credence to the sinking feeling in her stomach. "If a supernatural being is behind those, it has been far more careful than this vampire was. It may have been emboldened by the disappearances, but that is likely the full extent of the connection."

"So you don't think a demon is behind them?" Mikasa challenged. At the same time, the girl with the ponytail piped back up to ask, "wait - so Franz and Hannah and all them; a vampire was behind all those?"

Erwin frowned. In the seconds that he took to compose his reply, Jean grumbled, "I thought they were talking about demons."

"Vampires are demons," Reiner chimed in. "It's just that not all demons are vampires."

"Right," Jean said, a heavy sigh leaving him along with his words. He slumped forward, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. "I guess it doesn't matter if there's something out there killing people either way."

"We don't know that," Erwin finally said. Meeting Mikasa's gaze with his own, he said, "I'm not saying that it isn't a demon responsible for this. However, most demons leave some form of remains behind and don't bother hiding them well, let alone this thoroughly. We cannot afford to dismiss the possibility that there is a human behind this."

Jean dropped his face fully into his hand and made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and the sound of someone choking. "And I don't suppose there's any chance that this could all be one big coincidence?"

"Yeah," the bald guy piped up. "That guy tried to take a chunk out of Jean's neck, but I mean, have you met Jean? I can't say I'd blame-"

"Shut up, Connie," Jean grumbled.

Reiner tried to hide a laugh with a cough into his fist. Jean raised his head and lowered his hand to shoot him a glare. Meanwhile, Erwin offered a small, sad smile.

"It is possible," the watcher said. "But at this point, it would be best not to get your hopes up."

"Yeah," the ponytailed girl murmured. "Take a look around; it's been starting to feel like an episode of Frontline around here."

"Don't be silly, Sasha," Connie chided, his already shaky voice sounding that much more agitated. "There are no vampires in Frontline."

A thoughtful look flickered across Erwin's face. "Actually-"

Mikasa felt something inside of her snap. "So you aren't ready to commit to it being a demon," she said, voice cold as the arctic. "Fine. You still haven't told me why I'm here ."

Erwin's expression shifted, but it was too fast and undefined for her to stand a chance at telling exactly how. That was fine. She didn't particularly care at the moment.

"Jean, Sasha, and Connie all know about the existence of the supernatural now," he began, his voice never once rising or showing any sign of losing balance in face of her ire. "For their own safety, it would be best for them to learn more."

Mikasa had to fight back the urge to grind her teeth together. She wouldn't have bothered if it was just her. Unfortunately, allowing this collection of near-strangers and one almost-friend to see how much he was getting to her was simply unacceptable. Instead, she kept her voice even and measured in its coldness as she said, "and you want me to teach them."

"No," Erwin said. "I wouldn't expect that of you. I will tell them everything that they need to know. I called you here because if there are more people in the area who are aware, it would be safest for us to know about each other."

Unthinkingly, Mikasa's gaze drifted to Reiner, and his eyes met hers.

There was a moment of silence in which one could hear a pin drop.

Unfortunately, Erwin was good at reading things like that. "Is there something I should know?" he asked.

Mikasa and Reiner maintained eye contact for a long moment, him frowning while her expression remained stuck in one of neutrality, unsure of what to think and feel. She had known that the existence of a second slayer was something that she should come to her watcher with. It had simply been too easy not to with everything else that was clogging up her mind. But now the subject had resurfaced, and she found herself unsure of what course of action should be taken.

It was supposed to be the watcher council's duty to assist and guide the slayer. That did not mean that they were beyond reproach. She knew of their capacity for failure, was always aware of the damage that might have been avoided if they had simply been a little faster, a little smarter, found her a little sooner

That was damage wrought by inaction. And unfortunately, with how long that inaction had persisted, she did not yet have any true way to gauge what harm they may do when they were actually involved.

With everything so unsure, what right did she have to hand Annie over to them?

Perhaps it was a good thing that it had come up while one of Annie's friends was around. That meant that it ultimately wasn't her call to make.

Mikasa couldn't help but feel a burst of selfish relief when Reiner finally turned his gaze toward Erwin, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

"My friend Bertolt also knows," Reiner hesitantly admitted. "Because our friend, Annie, is also a slayer."

Erwin froze. His normally composed facade fractured just enough for a hint of shock to bleed through. Mikasa may have enjoyed it were it not for how his sharp eyes immediately sought her out. It seemed that her apparent familiarity with Reiner had made him dismiss the possibility that his words were as much news to her as him; that look was commanding her to talk.

Not demanding. Commanding. She didn't know exactly what the difference was, but in that moment, she knew it was there. It told her that she would not be able to worm her way out of this no matter how hard she tried. That was why, for the second time in as many days, she forced those horrible words out of her mouth and tried not to let them touch her. "Something happened not long after I was called. I died for a few minutes."

Suddenly, she was acutely away of Jean, Connie, and Sasha's silence, of their eyes boring into her. Her skin crawled beneath Erwin's piercing gaze. Even Reiner's contemplative expression, for all that she'd already told him this story yesterday, felt like too much.

She tried to brush the suffocating feeling off with a shrug. When that failed, she added, "I didn't think it was important."

"It is," Erwin said.

"Yeah," Mikasa murmured. "I can see that."

That horrible silence returned. Or at least, it tried to. Sasha interrupted it by taking a step forward and stammering out, "So, I- uh- I know that this might be a bad time, but. What's a slayer?"

Erwin cast Mikasa a long look. Then, slowly, he said, "I think it might be better to discuss this with all of us here." Turning his attention to Reiner, he asked, "do you think your friends would be willing to meet with us tomorrow morning? Say, in the library, at nine o'clock?"

"There's an us now, huh?" Jean murmured. His expression was lost and distant, save for the hint of sadness that flickered across his features when he glanced at Mikasa every few seconds.

Meanwhile, Reiner slowly nodded. "Yeah. Bertolt might have work, but Annie- I can't promise she'll be happy, but yeah, I think I can swing it."

"Good," Erwin said. "Mikasa-"

She cut him off, clinging to one of the only thoughts she could formulate at the moment. "You said it's safer for everyone who knows about the supernatural to know about each other," she said. "Do you really believe that?"

The council had done nothing to earn her trust, but she could admit that Erwin possessed a decent amount of expertise on certain matters. Enough so that his opinion may be worth considering here

Erwin blinked. "Of course," he said. "It's safest not to know, but where that fails, there's safety in numbers."

"I'm going to tell Marco, then," Jean said, voice steadier than it had been throughout the rest of the conversation

"I strongly advise against it," Erwin cautioned. "It may be hard to believe, but it is safest not to know about these things. Once you are aware, the odds of you being targeted by a vampire or demon increase exponentially. After what happened earlier, it would be irresponsible for me not to teach you how to defend yourself, but believe me when I say that your friend is better off not knowing."

It looked like Jean had more to say, but Mikasa didn't see a point in sticking around to hear it. Not when she already knew everything she needed and had so many reasons to leave. She gave a stiff nod and said, "I'll bring Armin with me tomorrow." 

With that, she turned around and swept out of the room - and away from all of the pitying looks.

She had to patrol.

*

The sun had long since sunken over the horizon by the time she was able to head out on patrol. She couldn't help but be irritated by the time lost despite knowing that it probably wouldn't make any difference. Most demons, especially vampires, weren't truly active until two or three hours after nightfall. The meeting may have eaten up a chunk of her time, but it hadn't taken that long. It was most likely that she hadn't missed anything at all.

Most likely. What about the times when unlikely things happened? If there had been something out there and she had missed it...

Mikasa fought down the frustration threatening to well up and forced herself to focus on the situation as it was. If something had happened in the extra time that she was away, then she had missed it. There was nothing she could do that could change that. What she had to do now was keep her eyes peeled for potential threats.

The graveyard seemed empty aside from herself; not even Eren was there to accompany her. That was good. She wanted space after what Erwin had dropped on her. However, there was something about the emptiness that set her on edge, the creeping feeling that she was wrong, that she had to be missing something. It almost made her wish that-

"Well," a bright, mocking voice reached down from above. "If it isn't the slayer. Sun set... oof, over an hour ago, but hey. Don't rush on my account."

Mikasa turned around, stepped back, and looked up. There was an old oak tree not five feet away from where she was standing. Its branches were wide and sprawling. Sitting with her feet dangling over the edge of one of the thickest ones, dangerously close to directly over her, was a woman. She thought she saw brown hair and freckles, but it was difficult to make out between the low light of the evening and the additional shade of the tree. The thing that really stood out was her grin, wide and jeering. Like someone laughing at a joke that they hadn't yet seen fit to let anyone else in on.

In a situation like this, odds were that she was the joke.

Mikasa took a few more deft steps back, just to put some more space between herself and the stranger. Then she scowled. Questions like 'who are you' and 'what did you want' were worse than pointless. So instead, she commanded, "get down."

"Mmm, no," the woman said. "I don't feel like fighting tonight. Besides, you should be happy to get a break."

Mikasa didn't say anything. She looked over at the oak tree and followed the path up to the branch that the woman was sitting on, trying to figure out how to get at her without giving her an advantage in the process.

The woman didn't seem at all bothered by her silence - or by her very visibly scoping out the situation. She cheerfully continued, "I mean, you work your ass off pretty much every night, even when there isn't actually anything to do. But I can guarantee that nothing's going to happen tonight; not with me around."

That made Mikasa pause, but not for a good reason. She felt every muscle in her body tense as her gaze jerked back to the woman. "Why is that?" she asked.

"Why else?" the stranger asked. "Paradis is a small pond, and I'm the biggest fish."

The biggest fish.

With recent events, what would being the biggest fish entail?

As far as Mikasa was concerned, it was as good as a confession.

She was moving before she even stopped to think about it. She spun around to the other side of the tree, putting some distance between herself and the stranger, and planted one foot firmly amidst the roots at its base. Her other foot was placed in the middle of the trunk. One push, and she was able to reach out to grasp one of the low-hanging branches. Mikasa pulled and quickly twisted herself up to the top of the trunk, where it split away into a maze of branches-

And was met with a grumbled, "for fuck's sake." In the milliseconds she spent straightening up and catching her balance, she saw the woman jump off the branch and gracefully land on the cemetery ground.

She landed crouched. It was an eye-catching pose, but also one that would put unnecessary stress on her shins. She was showing off.

The stranger straightened up, met Mikasa's eyes, and raised an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna do this?" she asked,

Mikasa jumped down, landing on the balls of her feet.

"Fine," the woman grumbled. "Guess I can spare a few minutes."

Mikasa stiffened, one hand reaching toward her bag, and kept her eyes glued on her opponent. Said opponent put a hand on her hip and scoffed.

"Waiting for me to make the first move?" she asked. "I told you, I'm not looking for a fight tonight. You wanna do this, it's on you."

Mikasa grit her teeth, but complied. She lunged at her opponent's left, only to switch and throw a punch at the right side of her face at the last second.

The feint didn't matter. The woman just stepped backward, far swifter than Mikasa had expected - possibly, she faintly realized, faster than she could keep up with.

"Fast," she taunted, "but not the fastest."

Mikasa leaned forward and swung a leg out. Her foot clipped the side of the woman's leg, but she wasn't fast enough to keep her from dodging most of the blow with a clumsy jump.

She did, however, get her face to morph into the lumpy, fanged, snarling visage of a vampire.

Mikasa drew back several steps, shrugged her bag off to dangle from the crook of her elbow, unzipped it, and pulled out her stake, all in no more than three seconds. As she did, the vampire paused.

"Oh, no," she said. "I'll let you know when I'm ready for a deathmatch, thanks."

This time, when Mikasa lunged forward, so did the vampire. Mikasa aimed for her chest, aim true and stake primed to plunge into her heart. But when the wooden tip was only centimeters away, the vampire shoved at Mikasa's shoulder while veering sharply to the side. Mikasa heard and felt her stake sinking into flesh, but knew without looking that she had missed the heart. She couldn't look, for it was a blow driven by pure momentum, the force of the shove having lifted her off her feet and sent her flying. She could only be grateful that she didn't hit a gravestone when she slammed against the ground.

Her second time knocked off her feet in as many nights. Once again, her head began to ring, be it from the new impact or agitating what might have been a lingering concussion. The echo of pain emanating from her ankle was definitely leftover from the night before. This time, however, she didn't hesitate or allow either of them to overcome her. 

She scrambled to her feet as soon as physically possible. As she did so she heard the vampire indignantly mutter from several feet away, "aw, fuck. That shirt was a gift."

The vampire. Vampires weren't strong enough to do that; not the ones she would usually find wandering graveyards and stake on a patrol. That meant that this one had to be old. Old and powerful, and too big of a threat to be left alone.

The sort of vampire that would have no problem picking off college students and hiding their bodies.

Mikasa got to her feet just in time to see the vampire yank her stake out from where it was wedged in her shoulder. She winced, but most of her attention seemed to be on her shirt - and the significantly sized bloodstain slowly spreading through it.

"When were you turned?" Mikasa demanded.

"About five or six years ago," the vampire mumbled. She didn't even bother looking at Mikasa, instead tugging at the edge of her shirt with the hand that was still gripping her stake while poking at it with her pointer finger.

For a few seconds, Mikasa could only stare at the vampire with wide, disbelieving eyes. When she found her voice, it was to sputter, "that's-"

"What can I say, some vampires are stronger than others." The vampire finally let go of her shirt and looked at Mikasa. Her face split into a shark-like grin, an action that was closely followed by a laugh. "Or maybe I'm just special."

The vampire tossed Mikasa the stake, which she caught on reflex. She didn't dare look away from her, but the sticky warmth coating the lower half of the stake told her what she would see if she looked. Blood, where if Mikasa had been a little better, or maybe just had a better idea of what she was dealing with, it would be covered in ash.

"I'm Ymir, by the way," the vampire remarked.

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "I didn't ask." If this vampire was as young as she said, then knowing her name probably wouldn't help anything. Not that it mattered. Even if she had to figure it out by herself, she didn't plan on this vampire being around for much longer. She couldn't be allowed to kill anyone else.

"Well, I wanted you to know," Ymir said. She took a step back and offered Mikasa a lazy wave. From the arm that wasn't near the stake wound, Mikasa was almost pleased to note. "See you around, slayer. I'll let you know if I decide I want a deathmatch with you after all." The vampire began to turn around, only to pause and offer Mikasa one last mocking grin. "Oh, or the other one. It'd be rude not to keep both slayers in the loop."

With that, she turned around and ran. Mikasa took off after her, but was quickly outpaced. Before she knew it, Ymir had disappeared into the distance, leaving Mikasa standing at the edge of the graveyard with nothing to show but anger, frustration, and more questions than she could begin to know what to do with.

*

Annie was almost electric with anger. It wasn't quite enough to breach her composed surface, but she could feel it, pulsating just beneath her skin. 

Reiner was smart enough that he wavered at the look Annie gave him when he first told her what he'd done. However, that flash of fear hadn't lasted. Now that they were approaching the library, the bastard even had the gall to look entirely unrepentant. 

"They'll probably end up killed, now that you've dragged them into this," Annie whispered, thinking of the three dipshits Reiner had deemed worth dragging them into this situation. 

Reiner shrugged. "Eventually, maybe."

"So why did you save them?" 

"I like them," he said, like that answered everything. 

Annie shot him an annoyed look. 

"They're fun," he elaborated. "Or at least…" He gave a snort of laughter. "Connie and Sasha are fun; Jean's just entertaining in general. Even if something gets them later on, they're worth keeping around for a while longer." 

"Implying that you aren't going to 'get them'," Annie muttered. 

Reiner shrugged again. "Like I said, I like them."

Again, he said it like that was all that mattered. Maybe it was. Apparently, it didn't matter if someone was a good person, or if they had a good life ahead of them, or if there were people who would miss them. Whether someone's life was worth saving, or even just sparing from his killing spree, was determined solely by whether or not he liked them. 

Annie stared at her companion for several long seconds before she broke and looked away. 

The rest of the walk to the library was spent in silence. 

They both hesitated when they reached the door. For the first time since breaking the news to her, Reiner looked doubtful.

Perhaps that, combined with her anger at him, was why she opened the door and strode in like she owned the place.

She immediately knew where she was supposed to go. From the entryway, she could just make out a motley assortment of people gathered around a table tucked into the corner. She had known to expect them, but that didn't make seeing them together any less strange. Sasha Braus and Connie Springer were there, both of whom she recognized from the art class Bertolt had encouraged her to try in an attempt to have some "fun" during the mission. Jean Kirstein also shared that course with her, although based on how much they bickered with each other, she doubted that he was actually friends with either of the buffoons. Finally, there was Erwin Smith. Her English professor.

The watcher.

Annie didn't let herself hesitate beyond the moment it took to spot the group. Perverse though it was, if she wanted to avoid being suspicious, she had to keep going. Reiner's footsteps, surprisingly quiet for those who didn't know his true nature, informed her that she wasn't the only one.

Good. If he was going to get her into this mess, the least he could do was help her see it through.

She could tell the exact moment that the watcher noticed her. It wasn't in how he straightened up or even how he looked her way; the other three all did something similar as she approached and she didn't see anything special in those reactions. Smith's tell was in how his eyes gleamed, bright and warm, but with an unyielding sharpness hidden beneath.

That gleam told her that she would have to step carefully. That this man was dangerous.

"Miss Leonhart," he said, rising from his seat when she reached the table. "It is a pleasure to meet you properly." He extended his hand. Annie forced herself to reach out and shake it without hesitation.

"Likewise," she murmured.

"Your other friend wasn't able to make it?" he inquired. His eyes were bright with curiosity as he asked, but nothing more dangerous. Not that she could see, anyway. She could be wrong. Even if she wasn't, simple curiosity was dangerous enough. One small misstep could see it turning into something more threatening.

"Bertolt takes online classes," Reiner said as he walked by, before she had a chance to say anything. "He works most of the time during the day. Kinda sucks, but it pays the bills." He pulled up a chair beside his pets and sat down in a leisurely sprawl, like this whole ruse was no real stress to him. She supposed she should be happy about it right now.

"I see," Smith said, shifting his gaze toward Reiner. "Well, I would love to meet him sometime."

Reiner shrugged. "We can probably make it happen."

Annie forced herself not to react, not to frown or glare or feel like Reiner was throwing Bertolt under a bus. He wasn't; they'd all trained for this. Even without the gem of amara, it would take more than one meeting with a watcher to figure Bertolt out.

Smith turned his attention back to Annie, reams of questions dancing in his eyes. However, another voice piped up before he could ask any of them.

"So, Annie's the - er, wait - a slayer?"

Annie frowned at Sasha. She wasn't the only one; Connie groaned while Jean shook his head and Reiner raised an eyebrow at her.

"I already told you that," Reiner pointed out.

"I know, " Sasha defended. "But it's one thing to hear it and another totally to see that it's actually Annie. Like, Annie Leonhart Annie."

"Did you think it was a different Annie?" Connie asked.

"No, but like... we know her."

"We know Mikasa, too."

"We do ." Sasha leaned back in her chair, balancing it on its back two legs as she looked up at the ceiling and groaned. "God, this is so weird. Demons are a thing and vampires are a thing and slayers are a thing and we know both of them ."

"I mean, it makes sense that Mikasa and Annie would be slayers," Connie said. He looked over at Annie as he added, "you're both kinda... intense. The same brand of intense, sorta."

"And you're both idiots," Jean grumbled.

Connie shot him a grin. "You're just upset that you have to share the secret with us and not Marco," he said.

Jean scowled. "Of course I am," he snapped. "Marco actually has a few brain cells to his name."

The conversation devolved into bickering from there. Annie tuned it out, instead keeping her gaze glued to Smith as she followed him back to the table and took a seat. He seemed fondly exasperated, like he was watching a group of bickering toddlers rather than the college students he apparently planned on teaching about the supernatural. But that was toward them. Toward her, he seemed not quite trusting, but not actively suspicious either.

Good. She hadn't managed to fuck it up within the first five minutes.

As Smith himself took a seat, Annie allowed her gaze to drift over to Reiner. He still looked perfectly comfortable, now with a bright grin adorning his face as he watched Jean and Connie bicker. Of course. Connie was fun and Jean was entertaining.

Annie wanted to close her eyes, to let herself drift off and away from this place. But she couldn't do that. So instead, she did the next best thing - she changed the subject.

"Where's Mikasa?" she asked, looking back at Smith.

The watcher frowned. "I'm sure she'll be here soo-"

He was interrupted by the sound of the library door opening; the devil herself come to prove him right. Or maybe she was the angel in this metaphor. Annie certainly couldn't picture herself as anything but a devil, given the circumstances.

Mikasa looked exhausted. Not horrible, not quite, but close. Close enough that it had to be costing her. There were dark rings under her eyes and she was visibly favoring the foot that she had injured the night Annie saved her. Her eyes, while still bright with the sort of obsessive determination that drove someone to patrol even when they were at their limit, also flickered with shadows.

She wasn't alone.

"Armin," Annie called, part greeting, part observation. She didn't bother hiding the surprise that crept into her voice or keeping her eyes from widening. From what she'd seen, Mikasa was enough of a loner that she figured anyone would be surprised to see her bring someone with her, especially with how insistent she seemed to be about slayers keeping their nature secret. Even if that someone already knew about her.

At least, those were her feelings. A quick glance around the table revealed that no one else seemed caught off guard - like they'd known to expect an extra person.

Annie narrowed her eyes at Reiner, who just shrugged.

"Armin," Annie returned, a slight smile touching his lips. "It's nice to see you."

"You know each other?" Smith asked.

"We study together," Armin said.

"Interesting." Smith cast a long look around the table, then turned his attention back to Armin. "Do you know Jean, Connie, and Sasha as well?"

"Yes," Armin said. "We've met. I think - I think everyone here knows each other in one way or another."

Smith nodded. "That'll make this easier, then."

Annie caught a hint of doubt flash across Mikasa's face as she walked past her to take a seat. One chair down from her, specifically. Armin sat down between them, probably prepared to play intermediary between two surly women.

Smart. Unfortunately, if the plan was going to be a success, she needed to get Mikasa to trust her enough that she didn't need an intermediary.

Mikasa barely spared Annie a glance. Her gaze was all but glued to Jean, Sasha, and Connie. "What has Erwin told you?" she asked.

"A lot," Connie said, while Sasha let out a tiny groan and dropped her head back.

"He told us what the slayer is," Jean said. "A girl with super-strength, chosen by the ‘powers that be’ to defend humanity against vampires, demons, and the ‘forces of darkness’." Although his words were outwardly respectful, there was an unmissable hint of disdain, like he was still expecting to be told that this was all some big joke. It was annoying, but probably a better coping mechanism than breaking down outright. "Everything, basically," he finished.

"He can't have told you everything," Mikasa said, tone sharp. "There hasn't been enough time."

"Mikasa is correct," Smith said. He offered Jean a placating smile. "I'm afraid what I've told you so far are only the basics. It will take far longer to get you caught up completely."

Sasha let out another, louder groan while Connie gave a dismayed squawk. Jean frowned, but like Armin, Annie thought that she caught a flicker of interest on his face.

"For now," Smith continued, "I would like to get everyone on the same page." Annie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the watcher turned his attention toward her. "Annie, am I correct in assuming that you have never had a watcher?"

"You are," Annie said.

"I see." As he spoke, there was a shift to the gleam in his eyes, something sharper than curiosity coming into play. Doubt. Suspicion. She was going to have to step carefully now, and apparently, she was going to have to do it in front of everyone.

Fine. All the better to make them think that she had nothing to hide.

"If you don't mind me asking," Smith continued, "without a watcher, what made you suspect that you're the slayer?"

They were waiting for me to be called.

"Things started coming after me," Annie said. "I've always taken martial arts, but I was suddenly a lot stronger. And they started calling me the slayer." She shrugged. "You can test me if you want. I'm the real deal."

"You seem very certain," Smith said, an unexpected hint of appreciation in his voice. "So your local demonic community told you that you're the slayer; how did you find out exactly what a slayer is ?"

"Google," Reiner said.

Smith paused, a frown creeping across his face. "Google," he repeated.

"Google," Reiner confirmed.

"It was the same for me," Mikasa interjected, a faintly pensive expression drifting across her face. "It wasn't easy to find, but the information's there. And once I found something that matched what was happening to me..."

"I tried looking stuff up last night!" Sasha piped up, grinning. "I didn’t get really far; 'vampires' was kinda broad, and demons, well..." Her grin faded into something caught between a frown and a grimace. "It gets weird on the internet," she summarized. "But I tried!"

"Congrats on your freaky porn," Connie remarked.

The effect was instantaneous. While Annie resisted the urged to roll her eyes, Jean scowled and scooted his chair away from Sasha, Armin turned red and looked down at his lap, Mikasa gave Sasha a look that was caught between disapproval and judgmental, and Reiner fell short of holding back a snicker.

"I didn't say it was porn!" Sasha cried.

"But you did say it was the internet," Reiner pointed out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"We're getting off-topic," Smith patiently pointed out.

"Thank you," Annie muttered.

"Reiner," Smith began, "you said that you and your friend have been with Annie since the beginning?"

"Yeah," Reiner said, his expression drifting back into something more serious. "She came to us when she got her power-up and we helped her figure out what was happening. And after that..." He shrugged. "We weren't going to let her deal with that stuff alone. "

Smith nodded slowly. "That's very brave of you," he murmured.

He said 'brave', but a faint flicker in his eyes and something tucked into the cadence of his voice made her suspect that he meant something else, or at least that there was more to his feelings than what he expressed.

Annie frowned and tucked the observation aside to examine later, but opted to leave it alone for the time being. Whatever he was thinking, she didn't get the sense that it was dangerous to her. The watcher was free to think and feel whatever he wanted as long as it stayed that way.

"Now, I understand that this may be a difficult question to answer, but I'm afraid that I do need to ask." Smith paused for a moment, probably to make sure that they were all listening. Dramatic. " Do you know when you were called?"

"About three years ago," Annie said.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Mikasa stiffen.

"Can you get a little more specific?" Smith asked.

Of course. I could tell you the exact day, if I wanted.

"I think it was probably sometime in June," Annie said. "But that's the best I can do."

"And when you say three years ago, you mean June of 2016?"

"Yes."

They lapsed into silence, a thoughtful look descending over Smith's face. It didn't hold any sort of blatant warning signs. However, Annie was frustrated to find that she didn't have any idea what he was thinking beyond that. Each second that passed by without him saying anything felt like a nail scratching across her skin and trying to worm beneath. The difference was that no one would have blamed her if she had reacted to something like that, but she couldn't risk letting her impatience surface here.

The relief that washed over her when Smith started speaking again was almost physical.

"You're definitely experienced, but there are bound to be large gaps in your education," he said. He almost sounded more like he was musing to himself rather than speaking to anyone in the room. "We could all do with some backup as well." The watcher paused to give all of them a once-over. "I'm going to call a couple friends of mine and ask if they will join us."

"Watchers?" Mikasa asked. Her cool voice held a hint of unexpected tightness, and when Annie looked at her, she saw that her eyes had gone hard. Annie couldn't help but blink at the sight. Their previous interactions had left her with the impression that Mikasa was firmly in the council's pocket, just like a good slayer should be. But looking at her now...

"One of them is a watcher," Smith admitted. "The other is more along the lines of a free agent."

"But it would be the council sending them," Mikasa stressed, seemingly heedless of how Annie couldn't help but stare at her.

"No," Smith said. "If they come, it will be as a favor to me. Hanji often works independently from the council, and Levi..." He paused, a slight smile twitching across his lips. "Levi would be upset if he heard someone thinks he works with the council, let alone for them."

Mikasa's frown was threatening to turn into a scowl. It was an understated shift of her features, but Annie was watching closely enough to catch it. Apparently, she wasn't the only one.

"But he'll work with you?" Armin asked, caution and curiosity intermingling in his voice.

"We have a history," Smith said.

Armin nodded. Then, carefully, he turned to Mikasa. "Some more experienced help would be a good thing right now," he gently pointed out. "Especially with recent events."

Mikasa hesitated for a moment. It ended with her turning her gaze to Annie. Consequently, the hesitation shifted over to her, not quite ready to believe what was happening. Mikasa Ackerman didn't strike her as a particularly considerate person; did she really want her opinion on the matter? Slayer or not, they barely knew each other. Her opinion should mean nothing to her.

Except apparently it didn't. When the silence dragged on for too long, Mikasa prompted, "Annie?"

Annie shrugged, doing her best to put on the disinterested look of someone who was barely affected. "I'm alright with it," she said.

Because it would be suspicious if she wasn't. She wasn't allowed to care that she, Bertolt, and Reiner would have to spend hours talking and planning before the newcomers even arrived. Maintaining the ruse took priority over things like comfort and rest.

Mikasa nodded. When she turned back to Smith, her gaze was still hard, but it was a different kind of hardness now. It was the stony glint of someone on a mission rather than someone with a grudge. "You should tell them about the disappearances," she said. "And that I think I know who's behind them."

Everyone, Smith included, startled at that, which gave Annie and Reiner the opportunity to shoot each other a short, bewildered glance.

"You do," Smith said, voice impressively composed for all of its urgency.

"A vampire named Ymir," Mikasa confirmed. "She calls herself the biggest fish in the pond, and she's - strong. Stronger than she should be."

Annie and Reiner gave each other another look - unreadable, for that was all they could afford right now. One that promised that they would talk about this later. Annie had no idea who this Ymir was, but by the sound of it, she might make for a good scapegoat - at least for a while.

She just had to make sure that Reiner didn't take Mikasa's suspicions as an excuse to do whatever he liked.

Smith's expression had turned into something grave by the time Annie looked back at him. "We should discuss this later," he said. She didn't need to know him well to know that his tone suggested that it would be a detailed conversation.

"Fine," Mikasa said. With that, she glanced at her wristwatch - although glanced was a generous term for it. It was the very shortest of looks, just to confirm something that she already knew. Annie was struck by a sudden understanding; Ackerman hadn't been looking forward to this meeting, so she had arrived late when she knew that she would have to leave before long.

"I need to get going to history," Mikasa said, all but confirming her theory.

Smart, for a girl who wouldn't even take a night off to make sure that her exhaustion didn't get her killed.

Sasha groaned. "I don't suppose this is important enough to warrant a note?" she asked, shooting Smith a hopeful look.

The watcher smiled. "I'm afraid that you and Mister Springer should get going as well."

That got a groan from both of the dumbasses. Nonetheless, they began gathering their stuff together. Armin and Jean also murmured something and started getting ready to leave. Whatever they said, Annie didn't catch it. Her attention was on Mikasa, who was doing her level best to look like she wasn't dead on her feet. It was an imperfect performance, which only highlighted how bad it must be, for Annie was confident that she was practiced in putting on such acts.

She was probably planning on going patrolling again tonight. If she had gone out last night despite the state she'd been in when they met - which she must have, given her current condition - then this wouldn't be enough to stop her.

A look Smith shot Annie told her that she wasn't free to go quite yet. Of course not. The watcher had probably only just gotten started on the mountain of questions he had for them; she and Reiner were going to have to make good use of the backstories they'd fabricated. Even so, when Mikasa began to walk away ahead of everyone else, Annie met Smith's gaze and said, "I'll be right back."

She didn't wait for a response. Annie turned around and swept off after Mikasa; despite the height difference, she was able to catch up to other slayer in a few seconds.

"Let me patrol for you," Annie said, voice low but firm.

Mikasa stopped walking. "What?" she said.

"You're exhausted," Annie pointed out. "You'll get hurt again if you go out tonight."

Mikasa pursed her lips, whispers of pride and defensiveness playing across her features. Annie made sure to keep talking before any of them could override her common sense.

"Your grades have to be slipping too." She didn't pause, but the faint thrill of triumph that ran through her as Mikasa's features shifted ever so slightly made it easier for her to continue on. "That's an extra distraction. Rest, catch up on your assignments, and let me patrol for you for a few nights. Then you can be useful when you return."

Annie was making sense. She knew she was making sense - she'd spent much of the night thinking about and refining the offer, back when she'd assumed that the other slayer would have at least had the sense to take the previous night off. The deal was made that much sweeter by how much she had worn herself down. And yet, be it because of some heroic sense of dedication or just plain obsession, Mikasa hesitated.

"Two slayers are better than one, but there's no point if you keep pretending that you're the only one," Annie pointed out.

Mikasa sighed, shoulders drooping ever so slightly. It was at that instant that Annie knew she'd won.

"Alright," Mikasa acquiesced.

Annie nodded. "Alright."

With that, she walked back to the table and whatever quasi-interrogation Smith had planned for her.

Reiner shot her an approving look as she sat down. Annie tried to ignore it.

She failed, and her stomach twisted.

Chapter Text

Mikasa knew the difference a few nights of proper rest could make. However, there was a difference between knowing through memories that seemed to grow ever-distant and allowing herself to experience it once again. She felt... refreshed wasn't quite the word. It wasn't strong enough to describe the sensation that had grasped her. Even though her break had been interrupted by bouts of studying as she tried to play catch-up on her schoolwork, she still felt like new life had been breathed into her lungs.

The most unbelievable part? She had only allowed herself three nights. Somehow, those three nights had made a world of difference.

No, not 'somehow'. She knew exactly how and why.

Three nights of rest had done Mikasa a world of improvement because Erwin, Armin, and Annie were right. She had been wearing herself too thin.

Perhaps it was a little childish of her, but she didn't plan on admitting it to any of them. She didn't want to risk being faced with smugness - or worse yet - relief. It was bad enough that Eren had been following her around and shooting her looks of pleasure and pride since she woke up that morning. The real people in her life would simply have to be content with her changing her behavior and not making a big deal of it.

Or at least, changing her behavior as much as possible. Frequent breaks and regular relaxation time simply weren't something that a slayer could afford. Even if she wasn't alone, she would never be able to have a leisurely life.

However, it would be a lie to say that she had not started considering Annie's offer more seriously. She still didn't know if she could trust her, but she had already seen the wisdom in giving her a chance. This had added an element of temptation to that wisdom.

It was a Thursday, which meant no trigonometry. That meant her last class was at four in the afternoon, long before the sunset. She always left her slaying supplies at home on Thursdays and walked home to get them after class. It was never much of a problem for her. However, today it felt off. That temptation was following her, nipping at her heel with every step home.

She refused to acknowledge it outright. However, as it continued to nag at her, she decided that she could do something in the vicinity of giving in. She could acknowledge Annie's helpfulness enough to pay her a basic courtesy.

Mikasa nodded to herself. Eren gave her an odd look, but didn't comment.

His silence lasted until she had gone home, collected her things, and immediately went back to the door.

"Mikasa?" Eren was looking out the window, where it was still bright and sunny. His query was as plain as if he had spelled it out in neon technicolor.

Mikasa paused, hand on the doorknob, unsure of if she wanted to slump forward or sigh. In the end, she did neither. "I can start patrolling again," she said. "I should let Annie know before she wastes her time."

That was all. It was a sign of appreciation, an implication that she really was willing to consider Annie's offer, but nothing more. It wasn't a promise. It wasn't Mikasa letting anyone into her life beyond what she was forced to. It was just common courtesy.

Eren nodded, a playful glimmer in his eyes. Mikasa frowned, searching his gaze for vacancy or condemnation. She found none.

One of the odd things about Eren was that there seemed to be two different versions of him. Sometimes, he was distant and difficult to get a read on, cold, haunting, and unnatural. It was easy to remember that he was a hallucination when he was like that. Other times, however, he was animated and passionate, emotive and deceptively full of life. Whenever he was like that, she was sometimes tempted to think of him as an imaginary friend rather than a hallucination, for the other term began to feel irrationally cruel.

Because whenever he was like that, he reminded her of the boy she hadn't been able to save. He was easy to talk to as long as  he was like this. Too easy. If it was consistent, she might find herself faced with a temptation that was even more dangerous than the one she was currently grappling with and far harder to resist.

Mikasa might start pretending that he was really there.

She supposed it was a good thing that he manifested in the other state fairly often. As such, even in the moments where she gave in and almost let herself pretend, she could rest assured that they would only ever be moments.

"You know, I think you and Annie could be friends if you tried to get along," he remarked.

Mikasa released the doorknob as she turned to frown at him. There had been some tension between her and Annie so far, but not anything that she would classify as not getting along. Instead of pointing that out, she asked, "What makes you say that?"

"You're pretty similar, even without the slayer thing." Eren grinned. "You could probably be pretty scary together."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"

Eren faltered, his grin fading. "Ah," he said. "I just... I have a feeling."

In other words, it was just nice words in a voice that she had never stopped wanting to hear. Mikasa offered him a tiny, bittersweet smile. "We'll see," she murmured

"I'm glad that you're giving her a chance," he added.

Mikasa's breath caught in her throat as a thought occurred to her, unwanted and unbeneficial, but undeniable in how bright and fervently it manifested.

Would the real Eren want her to give Annie a chance? Would she even have a reason to?

Mikasa's gaze drifted then, past the illusion she was speaking with, as far into the depths of her apartment as she could look without turning her head. She refused to allow herself to turn her head, because if she did, she knew that she'd end up wandering back into the depths of her apartment, over to the chest that she kept her weapons in. She'd end up digging through it until she reached the thing buried at the bottom. And then she'd be too lost in guilt and grief to talk to anyone.

No. It had been over five years since that day, and she was a slayer. She had responsibilities that she couldn't neglect in favor of a memory. Even if that memory refused to let her go.

Besides, she had to talk to Annie. Speaking of which...

"Eren," Mikasa began, placing her hand back on the doorknob. "When I'm with Annie, do you think you can-"

"Go somewhere else?" Eren finished. Mikasa didn't let herself look at him, at the sad glimmer she was sure she'd notice if she did. He was painfully easy to read whenever he was like this.

"Yeah," Mikasa said. "It'll be easier without any distractions."

"Alright," Eren said. "Sure. I'll just..." He trailed off.

Despite her better judgment, Mikasa looked in his direction, only to see that he was already gone.

That was another thing about Eren. Hallucinations normally didn't go away when you asked them to, but sometimes he did.

If only it didn't make her feel so rotten.

*

Mikasa didn't allow herself to hesitate. With hesitation would come doubt, and doubt would make it too easy for her to turn around and run away. Instead, she walked onto the porch with all the ease and confidence that she didn't feel and raised her hand to knock on the door before she had even finished walking. Her feet stilled and she gave a single sharp rap with her knuckles.

She didn't need to knock a second time. Bertolt opened the door not thirty seconds later. Surprise flickered across his face when he saw her. It lingered as a friendly smile made its way across his face. Unsurprising. Mikasa knew that she hadn't exactly seemed like the friendliest person at their first meeting, and... no. Even if he had been at Erwin's meeting, she hadn't exactly been in a good mood then either. It likely wouldn't have done anything to help his impression of her.

She allowed herself to feel guilty for half a second before pushing the sensation back down.

"Mikasa," Bertolt greeted. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "Is Annie there?"

"Yeah," Bertolt said. "I'll go get her." He began to turn around, only to pause, a frown flickering across his face. Looking back at Mikasa, he asked, "You didn't exchange phone numbers?"

Mikasa paused. "Uh. I..." Didn't think about it. "Don't use my phone that often," she said.

Her cheeks felt warm. Not warm enough for her to worry that she was blushing, but certainly warmer than she would have liked.

Bertolt offered her a small, sympathetic smile. "I know Annie forgets stuff like that all the time," he said.

Mikasa frowned; she couldn't tell if that was supposed to be a callout or not, and if so, whether it was her poor social skills being highlighted or Annie's. It seemed that she wasn't going to find out either. Before she could decide if she wanted to go ahead and ask, Bertolt had turned around and was walking away. However, he hesitated just before disappearing down the hallway.

"Ah, you can come in, by the way," he said.

With that, he was gone.

Mikasa hesitantly stepped into the house. It felt better than standing out by the doorway. At least, it did at first. A few moments of awkwardly lingering in the hallway were enough to make her reconsider.

Thankfully, those few moments didn't get to stretch into anything longer. Footsteps soon began to echo through the little household, making a warm ball of relief blossom in her chest and spread out into her shoulders, driving her to roll them and loosen her posture. The sound was quiet, but what she had seen of Annie showed that she was a light, agile individual. That meant that she wasn't trying to muffle her footsteps, which was reassuring for a reason that she couldn't put her finger on. More importantly, it sounded distinctly like they were heading her way.

Annie appeared a moment later. The first thing Mikasa noticed was that Bertolt hadn't returned with her. The second was that Annie was dressed casually, but also in clothes that looked like they could take a beating. That meant that she was almost definitely planning on going on patrol tonight.

It was probably a good thing that Mikasa had stopped by to give her the news, then.

When the other slayer came to a stop a few feet away from her, Mikasa said, "I'm feeling better now."

Annie sighed. "Right to the point," she muttered.

Mikasa frowned. "I didn't think you were opposed to that," she said.

"I'm not," came Annie's response. "But I find it hard to believe that a few nights is all it would take to recover from the state you were in."

Her words were placid, spoken in a way that made it sound like they could be concern or condescension, and Mikasa couldn't tell which it was supposed to be for the life of her. She didn't know if she should smile or clench her jaw. As such, she did neither and simply offered a wary, "I'm a slayer. I recover quickly."

"I know how quickly slayers recover," Annie said. "I know that there's a mental weight as well as a physical."

"Nothing that I can't handle."

Silence as their eyes met. She didn't know how many seconds passed as they stared each other down. When Annie finally sighed and looked up at the ceiling, it didn't even feel like a victory. It couldn't be; she could tell that Annie hadn't truly given up nor relented. She was just looking for an easier path.

"You think you're ready to start patrolling again?" Annie asked, still staring up at the ceiling. An obvious question, which was probably why she didn't wait for a response. "Then go with me tonight."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "I don't need a babysitter," she said.

"Good, because I don't babysit." Annie lowered her gaze to give Mikasa a once-over. "You might be right, but you might also be overestimating yourself because you feel better than you did before."

Mikasa moved to protest, and Annie's eyes narrowed into ice-blue slits. "Am I wrong?" she pressed.

Mikasa faltered.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Annie pushed. "If you can honestly tell me that you're in top shape, that there is no chance that you're jumping the gun, then I'll stay home and you can go patrolling at home. But if there is any chance that you aren't at your best, then be smart. Let me support you, and least for tonight."

Mikasa let out a long breath, but managed to refrain from averting her gaze. "Fine," she said. "Meet me at the cemetery in two hours."

Annie nodded. For a moment, that looked like it would be that. However, before Mikasa could start to leave, she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. "Here," she said, thrusting it over to Mikasa. "My number."

A quick glance down revealed that it was, indeed, a phone number. "Did you have this written?" Mikasa asked.

"The walls here are thin," Annie said. "I overheard you and Bertolt. Now he can't fret about proper communication."

The corners of Mikasa's lips twitched up. "Smart," she murmured.

"Practiced," Annie corrected. "Bertolt likes to fuss."

Like Armin, Mikasa thought. Except she and Armin weren't as close as Annie and Bertolt probably were. They couldn't be.

Putting the piece of paper in her pocket, Mikasa nodded. "I'll text you before I set out."

"I'll hold you to it," Annie said.

*

Two hours later, Mikasa and Annie met in front of the cemetery. Eren was still conspicuously absent, which brought about a cocktail of emotions that Mikasa decided to simplify and call relief. Patrolling with someone else was bound to be stressful and off-putting as it was. She didn't want the extra difficulty that would come from trying to tune out a voice that only she could hear.

They worked in silence at first, the term "worked" being used very loosely. The lack of tangible demonic activity meant that they mostly walked through the cemetery on the off chance that something would appear.

About half an hour in, Mikasa cast Annie a pensive glance. She wondered if Paradis would see an uptick in demonic activity once word spread that there were two slayers. Most supernatural beings with half a functional mind would avoid a city that had a slayer, let alone two. Yet there were still plenty who wanted to test their strength or taste the glory of killing a slayer. Aggressive demons, particularly unhinged magical practitioners, even particularly strong vampires like...

"So," a drawling voice cut through the night, its tone caught somewhere between bored and smug. "You know each other after all."

...Ymir.

The reaction was instantaneous. Annie pulled the stake out of her pocket and took a step forward the vampire, only for Mikasa to reach out and grab the other slayer by the forearm. Annie whipped her head around to glare at her, but Mikasa looked beyond her glare, at Ymir, as she hissed, "Don't. She's the one I was talking about."

Annie's eyes shifted just enough to shoot Ymir a wary look. "At the meeting?" she murmured.

"Yes." The vampire grinned, and Mikasa lowered her voice as she added, "She's stronger than the others."

"Awww," Ymir cooed. "You've been talking about me? I'm flattered." She waltzed a few steps over to a gravestone, where she sat down and shot them a laughing grin. "Want to do an interview? I'd be down."

Irritation spiked through Mikasa at the vampire's words, sharply enough that she almost grit her teeth. It was some small consolation that Annie seemed similarly affected by her blithe attitude, but was a little less talented at hiding that it bothered her. One of her eyes twitched just before she gave the vampire a thoroughly unimpressed look.

"She won't tell us anything useful," Mikasa murmured. "We'll just be wasting time."

Wasting time - just like they already were by standing there talking about it instead of acting. She couldn't let Annie go charging blindly at Ymir expecting just another vampire, but they couldn't do nothing.

"I know she won't," Annie whispered. "The ones like her never do." She paused, just for long enough to shoot another quick glance at the vampire lounging on the gravestone, then added, "We need a plan."

"Or you could just ignore me," Ymir called, a hint of irritation seeping into her voice. "That sounds like a fun way to spend the night."

"We flank her," Mikasa instructed."You go left, I go right."

Annie frowned, a faint downward twitch of her lips, and something flickered in her gaze. It made Mikasa pause. For a second, the air lit up with tension as she waited for the protest that she was sure was coming.

It was killed by a single decisive nod from Annie. "Alright," she said.

Annie stepped to the side and turned around so that they were both facing Ymir. As Annie adjusted her grip on her stake, Mikasa shifted her bag down her arm so that she could take her crossbow out. It was already prepped and loaded. The nature of the weapon meant that she would have to pause to reload if her first bolt didn't hit. That didn't stop it from being an effective weapon that allowed her to keep a distance from her opponent while providing an intimidating air that often bought her a few extra seconds.

Normally. She didn't trust that an intimidating weapon would have much of an effect on Ymir. The crossbow's delay coupled with the vampire's speed meant that she might well have failed if she didn't manage to hit her with her first bolt. Even so, their previous encounter made her feel like long-distance combat was the better route with Ymir. Enough so that she couldn't help but be a little wary at the sight of Annie with her stake.

At that moment, Mikasa regretted that she had taken this long to remember how few supplies Annie seemed to have on her during their first encounter. She would have pushed her to prepare better if she had. It was too late to deal with that now though. She'd just have to hope that Annie would take her cues and do the smart thing, dive in for quick hits at the vampire before pulling back out.

Meanwhile, Ymir sighed. She got off the gravestone and rolled her shoulders with all the careless grace of a cat. "I told you last time that I'm not ready for a fight, Ackerman," she said. "What makes you think that I'd want to take both of you on at once?"

Her voice was casual in a way that bordered on arrogance. Mikasa noticed how it made Annie's shoulders stiffen subtly out of the corner of her eyes.

"You don't get a choice," the other slayer said.

Ymir raised an eyebrow. "Bet?"

And then they were moving. Annie charged forward and to the left while Mikasa slid to the right. Ymir, meanwhile, ran away. Away, but not out. The vampire didn't seem to be aiming to get out of the cemetery. It was foolish of her, but foolish in a way that was to their advantage.

Mikasa didn't try to aim quite yet. With both herself and Ymir running, it would be a wasted shot. Annie didn't have that hindrance. As she drew in close to Ymir, she reached into her jacket pocket with her free hand and drew out a knife. Putting on a burst of speed, she managed to get mere inches from the vampire and pulled up her knife to slash across her throat -

- Only for Ymir to come to a dead stop and duck. Annie's own momentum made her continue several paces forward and slash at empty air. At that time, Mikasa readied her crossbow. However, just as her weapon lined up with her target's heart, there was a flash of movement. Quick as a blink, Ymir rushed several steps back, leaving Annie standing in the line of Mikasa's crossbow, stake primed and frustration scrawled across her face.

"You guys really suck at this teamwork thing," Ymir called in a laughing voice. She was still running - not away, but circling the area like a vulture. Mikasa spun frantically as she tried to keep up with her, trying and failing to take aim. She was moving too quickly for her to shoot at her and throwing too many unpredictable twists and turns into her path for her to predict where she would be in a few moments. Annie, who had fallen back into pursuit, was hot on her heels - but not enough. There were simply too many routes for the vampire to escape.

"You seem like you're good at close combat," Ymir told Annie. "Doesn't mean a thing if you can't get close to your opponent though."

As Mikasa gave up on her previous tactic and opened her bag to exchange her crossbow for a stake, Ymir crowed, "And you." The vampire's voice had taken on a note of exhilarated glee. It reminded her of a cat toying with a mouse - or a hawk who knew that the cat couldn't catch it. "Crossbows are a lot harder to use on someone who's actively being chased. Although it looks like you've finally realized that."

Stake in hand, Mikasa charged on Ymir. It got a loud, barking laugh from the vampire. "Too late! Should've planned ahead of time." As she spoke, she twisted around and changed directions. Now she wasn't just running in circles - now she was heading out of the cemetery.

Fuck. Mikasa forced herself to run a little faster. She drew up the right while Annie went to the left. Once they were only a few feet behind Ymir, they both began to draw inward without exchanging a word.

For one intense, pulsating moment, it looked like they would catch her. They both had their stakes. They seemed to have the same thought. The vampire looked like she was lagging.

Then, when they were only a foot behind her, Ymir laughed and put on another burst of speed. Annie cursed and Mikasa grit her teeth, both pushing themselves to try and keep up.

It was no use. When Ymir reached the edge of the cemetery and jumped over the fence, disappearing across the street and into a line of houses in a span of roughly ten seconds, they knew it was over.

Annie was the first to stop, digging her heel into the ground and letting herself slide to a halt. Meanwhile, Mikasa slowed down, but didn't stop until she came up to the fence itself. There, she rested a hand on one of the wrought-iron bars and stared out at where the vampire had disappeared.

"She was right," Annie said.

When Mikasa didn't say anything, the other slayer continued. "We weren't in sync. We should have decided on one fighting style before going after her."

"You were going to say something," Mikasa said, still not looking at Annie. "Before we went after her. You were going to say something. What was it?"

Annie didn't say anything.

Mikasa turned around to look at her. The other slayer seemed impassive for the most part, but the way she averted her gaze gave her the sense that she was second-guessing whatever she was going to say.

That wouldn't do. Enough mistakes had already been made today. If what the other slayer had to say might turn out to be useful...

"Annie?" Mikasa pressed.

"I was going to say that we shouldn't fight her tonight," Annie admitted. "I meant that we need a long-term plan if she really is that much stronger than other vampires."

Mikasa frowned. "She's the one who-"

"I know," Annie interrupted. "That's why I didn't say it."

Mikasa gazed back out at where the vampire had disappeared. It grated her to know that they had missed an opportunity to take care of Ymir, that she hadn't been able to swoop in and put her down like she usually did. She was also certain that doing nothing wouldn't have helped. But at the same time...

"We do need a plan," Mikasa acknowledged.

"We need to be on the same page the next time we see her," Annie said.

The same page. That meant the same tactic.

"Long-range combat is safer, but unless we can catch her off-guard, she might be too fast for it," Mikasa said, looking back at Annie. "Toward the end, I think she only slowed down to mess with us."

"But we were doing better," Annie pointed out.

Mikasa resisted the urge to look away again. "We were," she said.

"So if she approaches us again, we should both focus on close-range combat," Annie said.

Mikasa stared at her. There was something a little aggravating about the certainty with which she said it, the confident gleam in her eyes and the way she held her head high. She couldn't tell if Annie thought that Mikasa had made a mistake, but she was definitely confident that her method was the right one for the situation.

It was aggravating. It was challenging. It was also, as she stared at her, more than a little captivating.

There weren't many people who were able or willing to go toe to toe with her.

Pushing the unusual feeling down, Mikasa forced herself to do one of the most difficult things that she possibly could. 

"Alright," she conceded.

Annie gave a small nod before slowly turning around to head back into the graveyard.

They still had a long night ahead of them.

*

They encountered three more vampires over the course of the patrol; a busy night by Paradis standards. Unlike Ymir, the next two were dispatched quickly and easily.

By the time they killed the final vampire, it was almost a comfort to have Annie at her back.

*

Mikasa wouldn't say that she was in high spirits the next day. Such a thing was impossible. Despite the success of the patrol as they approached the end of the night, their failure to kill Ymir still weighed on her.

And yet...

And yet, for some unknowable reason, the world felt a little brighter.

That brightness was still lingering by the time her afternoon history class ended. It was the reason why when, instead of leaving, Sasha all but vaulted out of her chair and raced her way instead of just leaving, Mikasa didn't scramble to get out of the way to evade her.

She did, however, wonder at the excitement in the girl's eyes. There was nothing about Mikasa that felt like it should warrant that sort of look, yet there it was.

Moving at a rapid pace in a small classroom meant that Sasha very nearly careened into her and only caught herself at the last second.

"Jesus, Sasha!" Connie cried. He was still sitting in the seat next to Sasha's, but had maneuvered himself so that he was sitting backwards on the chair so that he could watch his friend. Despite his near-chastising tone, his expression held the glee of someone watching a trainwreck that was guaranteed to have no fatalities. An organized trainwreck. A monster truck rally.

Sasha didn't pay her friend any attention. Standing only inches away from Mikasa's face, she exclaimed, "Mikasa! Have you had lunch yet?"

Mikasa blinked. "No," she said. She usually skipped it.

"Great!" Sasha cried. "You're coming with me, then."

That was all the warning Mikasa got before Sasha hooked her arm in hers and started dragging her off. It would have been an easy matter to resist, but she hadn't brought her textbook with her and didn't have anything else to get before leaving the class, so it wasn't like she had any reason to write. More importantly, a combination of surprise and confusion was effectively preventing Mikasa from forming any higher thoughts for the time being. As such, she inadvertently submitted to being dragged around.

Connie stood up and trotted over to walk on her other side when they passed him. The movement pulled Mikasa out of her stupor somewhat, but Sasha still managed to get her out of the classroom and halfway down the hall before she could articulate anything. "I-"

"Don't bother," Connie cut her off, a playful grin on his face. "Sasha's made up her mind about something involving food. There's no stopping her now."

"Rude, Springer," Sasha said. "True, but rude."

"I'm just making sure Mikasa knows what your priorities lie."

Sasha let out a dramatic huff. Then, to Mikasa, she said, "We're meeting the boys in the food court. I thought bringing you would be a fun surprise!"

"The boys?" Mikasa asked.

"Jean, Marco, and Reiner," Sasha said.

"Oh," Mikasa said. "I didn't... know you all are friends."

She supposed it made sense. Reiner and Connie had been pretty friendly that time in Erwin's office, Jean seemed like he knew them, and Marco was friends with Jean. Connecting it all still made her head spin a little.

"Well, we're friends with Reiner and Marco," Sasha said. "Jean is more like..."

"A show horse?" Connie suggested.

"Exactly!" Sasha cried with a bright laugh.

"I see," Mikasa murmured.

So they all knew each other more than just in passing. They all liked each other - or at least got along despite a certain level of teasing. Again, it made sense. They were all socially outgoing. Meanwhile, Mikasa... well, she was outgoing. Social was another one.

And Sasha thought that bringing her over would be a pleasant surprise?

"Hey," Sasha said, her voice taking on a lower, softer tone. "You know that they all already like you, right?"

Mikasa blinked, a shred of surprise flickering across her face as she looked at Sasha. How on earth had she been able to read her so easily?

"It's true!" Sasha insisted, probably misunderstanding the reason for Mikasa's surprise. "We'd all like to get to know you more."

Ah. That made sense.

"Because I'm the slayer," Mikasa said.

"Because you don't get out enough and pretty much no one knows anything about you," Sasha countered.

That... was certainly a statement. Mikasa barely had a chance to process it before they had reached the entrance of the food court. There, as she continued eagerly tugging Mikasa along, Sasha nearly collided with her second person in less than ten minutes.

"Woah!" Krista exclaimed, taking a small, stumbling step away from the trio.

"Aah!" Sasha exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, Krista!" She held her hands up apologetically - both of them. Rather than simply letting go of Mikasa in order to do so, she interlocked her hand with hers and waved both of their arms about.

Krista shot them a warm smile. "Don't worry about it!" she said.

"Do you want to come to lunch with us?" Sasha asked.

"You're going to turn us into a caravan, aren't you," Connie muttered, but not without a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, no thank you," Krista said, voice polite and sweet as could be. "I need to get to class! Thank you for offering, though!"

With that, she turned around and hurried off down the hall. Mikasa turned her gaze back toward the food court, expecting that to be the end of it. However, her gaze wandered back to Sasha when she noticed that she was staring after Krista.

"You know," Sasha whispered, "Krista's one of the nicest people you can find, but I don't think she has many friends either."

Mikasa frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Everyone likes Krista." Even Mikasa knew that much. 'Krista Lenz' was a common name to hear around campus. She was humbly intelligent, exceedingly kind, and involved in many school activities. From what she'd heard, she was about as close to a perfect someone as someone could get.

"Yeah, but that's not the same thing as having friends," Sasha said. "I don't ever see her hanging out with anyone in her free time. It's... it's hard to explain, but it's... it's like..."

"Like you can't process the thought of an angel amongst us gluttons and fools?" Connie suggested.

Sasha let out a disgruntled squawk, and Mikasa found herself having to lean back to stay out of the way when Sasha leaned over to swat at him.

"I just think she could use more friends!" Sasha exclaimed.

"It's Krista," Connie said, laughing. "I'm sure she has plenty of friends. Now let's get going; I'm starving."

"And you call me a glutton," Sasha teased.

"You are," Connie said. "I'm only starving sometimes. You, on the other hand, are a bottomless pit."

"Sure, sure," Sasha said. "I see how it is." She sniffed, then finally released her grip on Mikasa's hand to re-link their arms.

"Come on, Mikasa," she said as he began to drag her along once again. "Let's not keep Connie from his feast ."

Mikasa felt the corners of her lips twitch upward. "Alright," she said.

As she smiled and listened to the pair of goofballs banter, she found that she felt a little lighter yet. It wasn't the same sort of odd warmth that she'd woken up feeling that morning, but it was... nice. That feeling only grew when Sasha succeeded in pulling her all the way to the table where her group sat and, despite all odds and expectations, they all seemed genuinely happy to see her.

That afternoon, as Mikasa listened to everyone's conversations and even contributed to them a little, a faint, dangerous thought crossed her mind.

She could get used to this.

*

It was a few hours before the sun would set, and Mikasa was back at her apartment, staring down at her phone and the scrap of paper laid down beside it. At the digits scrawled across it. 

She had been staring at them for longer than she would like to admit. 

"The worst thing she can do is say no," Eren pointed out. 

"I know," Mikasa murmured. 

And Annie wouldn't say no. She knew that much. The problem wasn't the possibility of rejection - it was the simple act of asking. 

"You're strong," Eren said. "But you're better when you're not alone."

Mikasa took a deep breath, and, despite the lightness that still lingered within her, refused to truly consider his words beyond their most surface meaning. The most important meaning. 

Working with Annie was the smartest thing to do. 

Carefully, she took her phone, put in the number, and sent a text. 

Mikasa: Patrol tonight? - M

Annie: Alright. 

Annie: We can train if you can come over early. 

Mikasa blinked. Something that straddled the line between apprehension and excitement rose up in her stomach. She pushed it down as she typed out her response. 

Mikasa: Sure

*

They only encountered two vampires that night. 

Between her and Annie, they were two of the easiest kills that Mikasa had ever made.

Chapter Text

Two weeks passed.

Two weeks with no more encounters with Ymir.

Two weeks of patrolling and training with Annie.

Two weeks of allowing the goofballs Erwin was teaching about the supernatural to pull her into their conversations.

Two weeks of falling into a rhythm.

It was ruined the second she turned on the television.

The local news was running a piece on a missing man.

Mikasa froze as the information washed over her. The man had gone for a walk two nights before and never returned. He was presented as a mild-mannered middle-aged man. Unobtrusive. Distraught family left behind. Not a student, but the street the reporter said he lived on was only a few miles away from Paradis Community College. With the timing-

"If anyone has any information," the reporter pleaded, "then please call-"

Mikasa turned into the television and stared blankly into its depths.

Ymir had killed again. Of course she had killed again, two weeks had passed. No one new had gone missing on campus, but that didn't mean that there were no more victims. For all that she knew, this man might not even be the only victim in the past two weeks. He probably wasn't.

Mikasa and Annie hadn't been proactive enough in hunting the vampire down. Neither she, Annie, nor Erwin had been able to find anything on Ymir. They hadn't seen her since their last fight either, but that- that wasn't an excuse. Mikasa should have found something else to do, another way to go after her. She was the senior slayer, between her and Annie. This was her city and she had already had two opportunities to kill the thing plaguing it.

Twice she had the opportunity to end it. Twice she had failed.

This man's blood was on her hands.

*

Making it to class was an unusual combination of difficult and easy. There was a part of Mikasa that wanted to curl up in bed and forget that she existed for a few hours. However, a larger part of her knew that she couldn't do that. Forgetting about the world once could lead to her doing it again, for longer periods of time, which could eventually lead to her giving up completely.

She was the slayer. She didn't have the luxury of giving up.

So Mikasa had only allowed herself to feel the shame and guilt for a short while. Then she forced the feelings down, leaned into her rage, and got ready for the day.

There were still fifteen minutes until class was scheduled to start by the time she made it to Biology. The room was empty of all but a single student.

Armin.

Despite her seat being next to his, Mikasa didn't look at him as she sat down. She knew that he watched the news every morning and knew the expression that she'd see if she looked at him. He knew her well enough to know that she would be blaming herself for the latest disappearance, and she knew him well enough to know that he would tell her that it wasn't her fault. They both knew that it wouldn't change anything. That wouldn't be enough to stop Armin though. It never was. He was the sort of person who always had to at least try.

That didn't mean that she had to look him in the face as he did it.

Mikasa pulled her bag onto her lap. As she began what she planned on being the very slow process of extracting her book from her bag, Armin began speaking in a low, soft voice.

"Mikasa, I know you probably aren't in a very good mood today, but I wanted to say-"

Maybe getting her textbook out would be a genuinely slow process after all. She hadn't exactly been careful while shoving her belongings into her bag that morning. A small frown creased her lips as she pushed pens, notebooks, a loose stake, and miscellaneous other items aside in order to reach her biology textbook. This wouldn't do for the night's patrol - not if she wanted to try and track down Ymir. On nights when she didn't want her school supplies to weigh her down, she stopped at home to drop them off anyway. Tonight, she would have to make sure to reorganize it as well, make sure all of her weapons were placed perfectly and ready to go at a moment's notice.

"- you've been doing a good job making friends lately, and I'm proud of you."

Mikasa froze. "What?" she asked, the question leaving her mouth before she could stop to think about it.

"You've been socializing more lately," Armin said. "It's made you happier. And you've been doing better as a slayer because of it."

"There are two slayers now," Mikasa pointed out, voice automatically going quieter even though they were alone.

"Annie counts as spending time with other people," Armin argued. "And you've been letting more people in since you've met her."

"Sasha doesn't really-"

"Mikasa." Armin smiled, tentative but warm. Hopeful. "I'm glad. You should have friends. As a person, and-"

"-slayers aren't supposed to have friends," Mikasa reminded him in a whisper. All of the information she had managed to pry from the internet had been very instant on that; the slayer worked alone. She supposed that Erwin might think differently, given how he had pushed her toward the people who were making a solid attempt at sneaking into her life, but he hadn't done anything to warrant her assigning any true value in his judgment. All she had to go on were her gut feelings, and her gut feeling told her that he was the sort of person who got people hurt.

"That philosophy is scientifically flawed," Armin said. "Human beings get stressed when they don't have other people to lean on, and stress makes people perform poorly, no matter what they're doing. You mentioned the other day that you've been having more success on your patrols, right? Well, I don't think Annie's help is the only reason for that."

Mikasa didn't respond, simply trying to absorb his words. In her silence, Armin decided to add a little more.

"Even if you can't save everyone, you're doing better now than you were before. Don't lose sight of that."

At that, Mikasa finally looked over at him. His expression was a telling combination of nervous and hopeful.

She didn't smile at him, but despite the circumstances, it was a close thing.

"This is a new angle for you," she said.

Armin offered her a small smile. "It's true."

It's better than telling me that it isn't my fault, she thought. Verbally, she let out a non-committal hum.

"Besides," Armin continued, his voice taking on a lighter air, "I don't want you in a bad mood for tonight."

Mikasa paused. "Tonight?"

"Ah," Armin said, rubbing the back of his head. As if to mention it had been an accident and not the fully calculated move that it doubtlessly was. "I heard that Sasha wants to go out tonight and take some friends with her, and-"

"-you assumed I'm one of them," Mikasa finished.

"I know you are," Armin said. "She doesn't have your phone number or any classes this early, but trust me, she's going to find you and ask you later."

Mikasa frowned. "I-"

"-Should go," Armin finished.

"No," Mikasa countered, "I need to go patrolling."

"You really shouldn't," Armin urged. "If Ymir has been watching you, she'll expect you to be out in full force after that report. It would be too easy for her to set a trap. Besides, there would be benefits to going."

"Social benefits?" Mikasa asked, voice flat.

Armin shook his head. "You haven't been able to find out anything about her, right? But not all vampires lurk in graveyards constantly. They can't, logically. If you keep your eyes and ears peeled, it might be an opportunity to learn something useful."

Mikasa's gaze dropped down to her bag. To her textbook, which was peeking halfway out of it. She supposed Armin had a point. No, she knew Armin had a point. There had been enough disappearances that people would be talking, especially after that morning's report. It was still... daunting. Daunting in ways that had nothing to do with slaying.

A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye made her glance toward the door just in time to see one of her other classmates filter in. That was her cue. It was time to wrap this conversation up.

"Alright," she murmured. "I'll consider it. But." She turned to look Armin in the eyes, lest he think she was anything short of serious. "If I go, then so do you."

Armin blanched. "But-"

"If it's a social thing, I'll be able to protect you," Mikasa pointed out. She wouldn't risk him around her most of the time, but in this instance, as part of a group, she might be alright with it.

"Yeah," Armin murmured with a weak laugh. "Only social danger."

"For both of us. And if she does invite me, I don't think we'll be the only ones out of our element." Sasha could say what she wanted about why she was trying to befriend Mikasa, but there was no doubting what had turned her attention to Mikasa in the first place. If Mikasa's status as the slayer had drawn the girl to her, then Annie was probably in the same position.

Even if she wasn't, Sasha would almost definitely invite Reiner, and Reiner seemed like the sort of person who would drag his more introverted friends into non-introverted situations. Either way, Annie was doomed.

"Alright," Armin acquiesced. "It's a deal."

"If she asks me," Mikasa emphasized, since the notion still felt fairly unreal. People didn't ask her to do things with them. But Armin was usually a reliable source of that information, and because of that, she was forced to truly consider the prospect. "If she asks me, then we'll both go."

*

Erwin had gone home after teaching his class that morning and went directly for his computer. That was where he remained hours later, leaning forward with his elbows on his desk and his chin resting on steepled fingers.

He felt like he was making progress. It had manifested with a clarity so strong that it became undeniable, the unwavering certainty that he was onto something, that it would all slot into place if he just found a few more pieces to the puzzle. The trouble was that he didn't have any proof. He didn't even have anything other than that feeling to suggest that he wasn't wasting precious time.

And yet he didn't feel like a fool for chasing it.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a knock on the door. Just one, sharp and to the point. Erwin started to stand up, only for something on the screen to catch his eye.

He slowly lowered himself back into his seat and leaned forward.

There were several more knocks at the door, loud and excited. They were followed by the sound of muffled shouting. The corners of Erwin's lips pulled up, but he remained seated and kept his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to scroll down the spreadsheet before him.

As expected, the knocking and shouting soon died down in favor of the sound of a lock being picked.

And as expected, his eyes had been tricking him. There were more brunettes among the people who had disappeared over the past several months than blonds, redheads, or people with unusually dyed hair. However, it wasn't so many that it couldn't be attributed to the prevalence of that hair color over the others rather than an actual pattern.

Erwin didn't know if he should feel disappointed or vindicated.

The door swung open with a click. It was followed by the sound of two sets of footsteps, one heavy and steady, the other quick and uneven.

"Rude asshole," Levi muttered as he walked down the office on his way down the hallway. Probably on his way to the kitchen. Given how far he had to drive, Erwin had known to buy and set tea out for him ahead of time.

Hanji was more direct. They gripped the side of the doorway to swing themselves into his office before prancing over. "Erwiiiiiin," they called. "What are you looking at?"

"Data on the people who've disappeared over the past month," he said.

"Ooh." Hanji leaned over his shoulder to get a closer look. "Looking for patterns?"

"Something like that," Erwin murmured.

"'Something like that?' Erwin, I want details!"

Erwin chuckled. "We should wait for Levi," he said.

Hanji groaned. "He's already off going through your cupboards."

"He shouldn't take too long," Erwin said. "I left the tea he likes out for him."

Hanji laughed. "Like a short, angry Santa."

Erwin smiled slightly. "Here," he said, pushing the desk chair back and standing up. "Take a look for yourself."

Hanji didn't hesitate. They rushed to take his place and leaned forward so that they were only inches away from the screen, eyes darting from one side of the screen as they tried to absorb all the information as quickly as possible. Erwin couldn't help but notice that they still had their windbreaker on. A quick glance showed that although they still had their boots on as well, they weren't muddy, and nothing had been tracked in on his carpeting.

Levi would have taken his shoes off before he started down the hallway. He just moved fast. Hanji may have been the sort to abandon their luggage in the entryway, but Levi wouldn't stand for it, which meant that all of their belongings would still be in the hall.

They had been eager to see him. It almost made Erwin feel bad for leaving them to break in. 

"There's a slight tendency toward college students and victims tend to be within a few miles of the campus," Hanji eventually said.

"That's just the location," Erwin replied. "If we assume that they have limited transportation or something's tying them to the college, the perpetrator might not be able to control that. Anything else?"

Hanji stared at the computer screen for another long moment before shaking their head. "No, it seems random."

"Exactly," Erwin said.

"What, exactly?" a dry voice asked from behind him. It would seem that Levi hadn't become any less stealthy in the months since he'd last seen them. "Some thing's randomly snacking on college kids?"

Erwin stepped back and to the side so that he could easily see both of his friends. Unlike Hanji, Levi had removed his jacket since entering the house. He must have; although it was hardly cold, there was enough of a chill that he knew that he wouldn't have gone without. He was holding a cup of steaming tea atop a delicate white saucer and giving Erwin a flat, unimpressed look from over the top of it.

"I don't think it's actually random," Erwin said. "True impulse killers will often end up with some degree of pattern between their victims because of unconscious preferences or sheer coincidence. If you look just at the disappearances on the campus, some of them share the same classes, or go to class with the same person, but it isn't a reliable pattern, and it falls apart when you expand to include non-student disappearance."

"Go to class with the same person," Levi intoned. "That's awfully specific." He paused to give Erwin a long, piercing look. "Is it targeting the slayer?"

"I thought they might be at first," Erwin confessed. "Three of the victims shared a class with Mikasa, but the two other students who disappeared have no connection to her, nor did the four who didn't attend the college. Considering that Mikasa is mostly taking required classes, it could be a coincidence. Quite frankly, even if it does involve her, I think that there's more going on here."

"Alright," Hanji said, spinning his chair around to face him. "What's your theory, then?"

"It could be a particularly self-aware human who's killing additional people that don't fit their target type in an attempt to obscure their true targets," Erwin said.

"Sounds like a lot of work," Levi remarked.

"It does," Erwin confessed. "But so does the other option." He crossed his arms as he cast the computer another look. "It could be a vampire or other demon that is trying to look like an impulse killer when they aren't."

"That's not very in line with demonic behavior," Hanji remarked.

"It isn't," Erwin agreed. "But look at the victims. The genders and appearances all vary. The financial and social information I could gather about them fluctuates wildly. Those victims who do have similarities are too few to stand a real chance at being considered a pattern. And look at the college students; the couple were seniors, but Miss Carolina was a freshman, and one was a forty-year-old late start student."

"They tried for a range even when variation was naturally limited," Hanji murmured.

"I have trouble believing that this is anything but calculated," Erwin said. "It is a far larger coincidence to end up with none than it is for there to be one or two."

"Alright," Levi interjected. "So let's say that some thing is trying to look like they kill. Why? Most demons look for something specific. Vampires don't always, but the sick bastards tend to lean into it when they have a type, not play at being something else."

"Maybe it's hiding something," Hanji suggested.

"If it's pretending to be a random killer, it's already hiding something, four-eyes."

"No, I mean, maybe it wants people to think it kills randomly to keep people off its trail for something else."

"Like what?"

"Ah, I'm not sure." Hanji rubbed the back of their head and offered Levi a sheepish smile. "I don't know enough yet. Anything I say would just be guesswork."

Erwin offered the pair a warm smile. It was nice to see Levi and Hanji banter again, and almost as nice to see how quickly they had reached his own conclusion. "I'm afraid I don't have any detailed theories either," Erwin confessed. "But it is interesting." The demons that acted atypically always were.

"People are dying," Levi pointed out.

Erwin faltered, a faint sight leaving his lips. "I know," he said. "Stopping the thing doing this is my priority. But we need more information. First, we need to rule out the possibility that a human's doing this-"

"-If it is a human acting like a demon, I don't see why we can't just treat it like one and put it in the ground," Levi muttered.

"Don't tell the council-”

“- As if I’d ever tell those bastards anything. -”

“- and I just might let you," Erwin admitted. "But whether it is or isn't, we don't have much to go on." That might have been the point of choosing such a varied pool of victims in and of itself, but everything he knew about demonic nature made him doubt it. “Mikasa thinks that it might be an overly strong vampire named Ymir, but she hasn’t been seen in over two weeks and I haven’t been able to find anything on her.”

“Mikasa,” Hanji cut in. “That’s the slayer who… died… right?”

“Yes,” Erwin confirmed.

"The slayer who didn't tell you she'd died," Levi said. "Any chance you've talked to her about that yet?"

Erwin held back a sigh. "No," he said.

Levi stepped forward to set his tea down on Erwin's desk, then whirled back around to face him. "Why the fuck not?" he demanded.

"This is a delicate situation," Erwin said. "Mikasa has gone without a watcher, or any intervention from the watcher's council, for years, and has apparently experienced at least one highly traumatic event in that time. I can't force her to trust me. I can't even afford to try."

"But you can't keep waiting for her to come to you," Hanji pointed out. "I don't think it'll work. From what you've told us, she doesn't sound like she's anything like-"

Levi and Hanji's eyes met. A second passed, then Hanji looked away.

"- it doesn't sound like it'll work," they finished.

"I know," Erwin confessed. "I just-"

"-Sound like you have a lot of regrets for a guy who talks about not having any," Levi muttered. He wasn't looking at Erwin or Hanji anymore, but some distant spot on the wall.

"This isn't about regret," Erwin said. "It's about not repeating past mistakes."

"Well," Levi said, his voice very subtly off in a way that would be undetectable to anyone who didn't know him well, "making sure she doesn't have a hidden agenda or any other secrets would be a good place to start."

"Probably," Erwin agreed.  A hint of resignation leaked into his voice as he added, "the disappearances and second slayer may not be the only reasons I called you."

"Aaah," Hanji said. "You're useless without us." Their lips twitched upwards. It wasn't enough to dispel the strain that pulled at their voice and lingered in their eyes. 

"Probably," Erwin agreed once more.

There was more to say on the matter. Much, much more. Just not now. He couldn't in good conscience allow them to remain on the subject. Not while Levi was wearing the distant, heartbroken expression that he'd gotten so good at disguising over the years and Hanji looked like someone who'd accidentally punched their best friend. There was plenty of time to discuss the disappearances, Mikasa, Annie, and all the other young people who'd been involved.

That was a lie. In every moment that wasn't spent investigating the disappearances and trying to find a way to stop them, innocent people were in danger. Every moment that he wasn't trying to improve his relationship with Mikasa, he let her slip further away.

The truth was that Erwin was seeing the people he held most dear for the first time in months and wanted to be selfish for at least a few hours.

"Anyway," he redirected, "would you like some help unpacking?"

"God yes," Hanji groaned, flopping back against the chair and sending it rolling a few inches. "I want- I want food. And a nap. Erwin, I cannot emphasize enough how much I want a nap."

"Think the five hundred milligrams of caffeine you drank today might have something to do with that?" Levi drawled, shooting Hanji an utterly unsympathetic look.

"Nah," Hanji groaned. "I just exist this way."

Levi scrunched his nose up in distaste, and Erwin couldn't help but chuckle.

Despite the circumstances, it was good to have them back.

*

Annie did not see how going out clubbing was "for the mission". Reiner could say whatever he liked about it being an opportunity to get closer to the slayer, she would remain certain in her belief that he was just making an excuse to have fun with his human friends.

At least Annie could take comfort in the knowledge that she wasn't the only one uncomfortable there. Sasha, Connie, Jean, Marco, and Reiner took the lead as they approached the brightly lit club, one big, cheerful, chatting mass of dipshits. Meanwhile, Mikasa, Armin, and Bertolt lingered a few steps behind with her, all looking some degree out of place.

"Well," Armin said, a shaky smile inching its way across his face. "This place certainly seems energetic."

"Yeah," Bertolt agreed. "Lots of... energy."

Both of them looked nice. Their hair was done, and while they weren't overdressed, they looked sleek and trendy. If only they didn't look both look like they expected someone to come around and shove them in a locker at any second. Bertolt actually looked a shade worse than Armin even though he could easily kill anyone who tried such a thing.

"These places are supposed to be loud, aren't they?" Mikasa asked. She looked and sounded relatively unbothered by the pair. Her tell was that she walked at the very back of the group, behind even Annie. Such behavior was just as out of place with her appearance as Bertolt and Armin's nervousness, because if they looked nice, she was stunning.

Mikasa was wearing a shimmery black spaghetti-strap dress that went down to her knees, black heels, and a touch of red lipstick that drew attention to the angles of her face and the soft curls of long black hair framing her face.

Annie had quickly thrown on a pair of jeans and a nice-ish blue shirt.

She really was going to kill Reiner one of these days.

"Yeah," Armin said, voice soft enough that it wouldn't carry to the people who actually enjoyed places like this. A small grimace touched his face. "I guess I didn't think about that. I hoped there'd be more... I don't know..."

"Jazz?" Bertolt suggested.

"Jazz would be nice," Armin agreed.

But there was no jazz. They were still a solid hundred yards away from the club and Annie could already hear the techno music pumping from it, the sort of sound that existed primarily for total strangers to grind and gyrate against each other. According to Reiner, Sasha had sworn up and down that they played a variety of music.

With Reiner and Sasha being the ones making the claim, Annie felt like she was valid in having her doubts.

Speak of the devil. Reiner began to slow his pace until he naturally started lagging behind the group of extroverts. When he reached her side, Annie caught his eye and frowned. He winked, then took a few steps backward so that he was walking beside Mikasa.

Mikasa gave him a faintly surprised look at the sudden approach, but didn't say anything. That gave him time to get started with whatever angle he was trying.

"I was wondering, do you have a sword?" Reiner asked.

Mikasa blinked. "A sword?" she asked.

"For slaying," Reiner clarified. "We-" he gestured with his head toward Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Marco, who were shooting occasional glances in their direction now. "- were talking about the best way to behead something, and-"

"AN AXE IS BEST!" Sasha hollered.

Annie winced, both because of the blatant eavesdropping and the oh-so-inconspicuous line Braus had chosen to scream.

Naturally, Reiner called back, "AXES ONLY HAVE ONE SIDE!"

"NOT ALL OF THEM!"

Reiner chuckled, then turned his attention back to Mikasa. "Swords have a bigger advantage than being two-sided though," he said lowering his voice into something more comfortable as he continued speaking. His voice was capable of sounding very warm when he tried. Pleasant. Sometimes even comforting, if you didn't know what he was actually like. "A good-sized one will let you keep some distance between yourself and your opponent without the fuss of having to aim with a long-ranged weapon, and the momentum you build once you get going makes up for the weight. They're the way to go for demons that require decapitation."

Mikasa nodded, expression thoughtful. "It makes sense," she said. "But, why are you talking to me about it?"

"Because every slayer should have at least one good sword, but they can get pretty expensive."

Annie frowned. She saw where Reiner was going with this. Being aligned with the council, Mikasa could probably get all sorts of weapons if she just asked. She didn't seem like she would be willing to ask though. Depending on how deep her distrust and animosity toward the council ran, she might even turn down offered resources.

Offering to arm the very slayer that they planned to kill was a bold move. However, she couldn't deny that it was one that would likely help gain her trust.

Reiner continued on, obliviously confirming her theory. "Me, Annie, and Bertl have several though. It wouldn't hurt for us to give you one."

"We have a horde," Annie corrected, "because you think they're cool."

"So do you," Reiner said.

Annie glanced to the side, but couldn't deny the accusation. Swords were cool. They were effective and felt nice to use, which were the most important qualities in a weapon. That they had an intimidating appearance was only icing on the cake.

"Thank you," Mikasa said. "I'll think about it."

Annie wasn't surprised. The other slayer didn't seem like someone who would accept charity or sincere gifts easily. Of course not. Doing that was a fast track to letting people in. Annie was more than experienced with the steps you take to keep from letting people in, and because Reiner and Bertolt knew Annie, they recognized those steps and knew the exact moves to counteract them.

Mikasa Ackerman really was doomed.

Reiner gave Mikasa a warm smile. "Alright, just let me know what you decide."

With that, he wandered off to rejoin the main group, who were gathering by the club door. Waiting for the stragglers.

Annie sighed and picked up her pace. She reached the rest of the group several moments before Armin and Bertolt, who were a few paces ahead of Mikasa in turn.

"Alright!" Sasha exclaimed. Between her ridiculously wide green and her cheerful orange dress, the girl was practically radiating excitement. It was almost enough to give Annie a headache on the spot. "Everyone ready?"

"It's a club, not a rollercoaster," Jean said. "Calm down."

"She has a point though," Marco said. "It's nice to make sure everyone's ready and actually wants to go in before we do anything." He shot a short, almost imperceptible glance at Annie, Bertolt, Armin, and Mikasa before grinning at the group as a whole.

Lovely. They were being handled with training wheels.

"I'm ready," Mikasa said, short and to the point.

"I'm... kinda nervous, but also kinda excited!" Armin paused for long enough to take in each member of their group as he offered a small grin. "I'll be fine."

"Me too," Bertolt added. "I mean- I'm not the most social person around, but I'm not going to get overwhelmed or anything."

Annie sighed. "Let's get on with it."

She stepped ahead of everyone and pushed open the door without waiting for a response.

Annie's senses were immediately assaulted by a combination of bright, multi-colored lights, the scent of sweat and something sweet, and the loud pulse of techno music trying to drown out all the noise. The last factor was the dominant one. If she'd thought it was loud outside the club, that was nothing compared to the inside. This was the sort of place where you had to scream to be heard.

She didn't realize that she'd frozen until a heavy hand landed on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Reiner asked. Shouted.

"Yeah," Annie said, voice straining from even just the short response.

He nodded, seemingly content. As he turned around to go back to his conversation with Connie and Jean, Annie noticed Bertolt giving her a concerned look. She shook her head, sending him a glance that tried to convey 'I'm fine'. The frown on his face suggested that he didn't quite buy it, but he didn't come over and fret over her either, which was something.

"We should get a table," Sasha called over the clamor of the music.

"Good idea," Marco remarked.

With that, the night set into motion. The group found a table and lingered for a little while before starting to split off. Some to get drinks, some to dance; even Bertolt and Armin eventually let Reiner and Jean prod them into heading out. It seemed like there was something for everyone to do.

Everyone but Annie and Mikasa.

It wasn't that they had been intentionally forgotten or excluded. They had been invited to go get to the bar, go dance, or even just wander around the club when Sasha announced that she wanted to go "people spotting". The slayers were the ones who had turned down every invitation.

Now that she thought about it, Annie realized that it had seemed like it came as automatically to Mikasa as it had to her. That impulse to turn away anything that could potentially distract from the ultimate goal.

Except Mikasa's ultimate goal was, presumably, her calling. And Annie's...

...Annie's goal wouldn't be furthered if she just sat there doing nothing. However, it was also hard to do much of anything with all of the noise. It was loud to an average human. To the enhanced senses of a slayer, it was absolutely ridiculous. It may be true that a vampire's hearing was even better than that of a slayer, but she had absolutely no clue how Bertolt and Reiner were able to shoulder their way through it. For her, there was no ignoring how it put her teeth on edge.

One long, thoughtful look at Mikasa revealed that it was probably the same for her.

Which made it an opportunity.

Annie stood up and gently grabbed hold of Mikasa's wrist. "Come on," she said, already tugging her forward.

Mikasa hesitated, and for a moment, Annie thought she might resist. Then she stepped forward and fell into pace with her.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Somewhere quieter," Annie replied.

Indeed, it grew quieter as they approached the back of the club. A series of semi-private loveseats and more-exposed couches littered the back wall. When they sat down on one, Annie was pleased to find that the noise had been cut down by roughly half. It was still loud, but no longer bordered  on unbearable.

"How did you know that would work?" Mikasa asked, her eyes glimmering in a way that almost made Annie think she might be impressed.

"I've been in places like this before," Annie lied. It wasn't a difficult one to pull off when one of her closest "friends" was so social. At that moment, she was actually grateful for Reiner's demeanor. There was no reason to suspect that he was almost as new to doing things like this as her.

Telling the truth, that she was just familiar with building design, would turn into a much more complicated lie as she scrambled to explain why. So many things about her would, if she let them be known.

Mikasa gave a brief nod. "Thank you," she said.

"No problem," Annie replied. "But I have to ask-" she didn't, but there was a little ember of curiosity burning within her now, pushing her to find an answer. And it was harmless enough that she was willing to give in to the impulse. "-why did you come here? It didn't look like you were excited even before you got in."

"I could say the same to you," Mikasa said.

"Reiner pestered me into it," was Annie's easy response.

Mikasa paused for a moment, a thoughtful look flickering across her face. At that moment, for no reason that she could put a finger on, Annie wished that she knew what it meant.

"Armin and I made a deal," she eventually said. "I'd go if he would."

It was an answer, but one that only made Annie more curious. She furrowed her brow and was in the process of deciding if she wanted to ask more questions when laughter bubbled up from a loveseat a few yards down. It was soft, but happiness made it louder, just loud enough for a slayer to catch it over the weakened cacophony of the music.

The laughter carried a snippet of conversation with it. And with it, a name.

"Ymir, you are-"

Annie's eyes narrowed at the same second that Mikasa went stiff. 

They were both on their feet in an instant. Gentle laughter still echoed from the direction of the voice. A quick glance was exchanged, and Mikasa began prowling in the direction the voice had come from, Annie following a few paces behind.

They were led to one of the loveseats, its tall, curved sides providing the occupants some semblance of privacy from the rest of the club. As she peered in, Mikasa's eyes widened, a faint sprinkle of pink coming to brush her cheeks.

Annie didn't stop to absorb it before looking for herself.

It was Ymir alright. She had no trouble recognizing the vampire who had so gleefully taunted them - even though her face was half-obscured by the blonde girl she was kissing.

And kissing.

And kissing.

The girl gasped as Ymir began to kiss off the girl's lips, along her jawline, and down her neck.  When the vampire nuzzled against the crook between her neck of shoulder, however, she erupted into another round of giggles. Her eyes fluttered open... and immediately landed on the pair of slayers staring blankly at her and her partner.

A number of different things proceeded to happen within the next instant. The girl pressed herself against the back of the loveseat with a surprised yelp. Ymir turned to face them, agitation flashing in her eyes. Mikasa's jaw went a little slack. And Annie's own eyes widened as she recognized the girl who'd been making out with Ymir as Krista Lenz, the girl who was likely kindest, warmest, and all-around best person in Paradis Community College.

Annie and Mikasa exchanged a glance. No words were exchanged; they didn't need any. People like Krista tended to attract vampires with sadistic streaks like moths to a flame. If Ymir was playing with her like this, then Krista was in grave danger.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Ymir groaned.

"Let her go, Ymir," Mikasa growled. Her hand was already creeping toward her purse. It was relatively small, but Annie would be willing to bet that she'd still found a way to stash a stake in there.

"Or what?" Ymir asked, voice heavy and eyes dark.

"Ymir," Krista hissed, reaching forward to grip the vampire's arm.

Ymir glanced at the blonde, and through some trick of the light, Annie almost thought she saw her expression soften for a heartbeat.

"Look," Ymir said, looking back at them with a sigh. "Unless walks in the cemetery are your height of romance, I don't crash your date nights. Return the favor and stay out of mine."

"Date night?" Annie parroted.

At the same time, Mikasa said, "that's not going to happen."

"I think there's been some sort of misunderstanding," Krista piped up. She shifted forward a little before sitting up straighter, her voice and expression containing a whisper of something Annie had never detected from her before. It was like glimpsing a flicker of steel while rooting through a bundle of cotton. "I'm not here against my will. Ymir is my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. There was another thing that she wouldn't have guessed about Krista. However, it was something that was far less important than who said girlfriend happened to be.

"She's using you," Mikasa said. That earned her dark looks from both her and Annie, but Mikasa continued. "You're in danger if you let yourself be alone with her. She has- a history-"

"I know that she's a vampire," Krista said, voice flat and blunt.

Mikasa's mouth closed with a click. Meanwhile, Annie found herself staring.

Krista knew? Sweet, innocent, perfect Krista knew that Ymir was a vampire and was dating her?

She supposed it wasn't impossible. After all, Annie was a slayer and she was working with two vampires. But there were special circumstances surrounding her, Reiner, and Bertolt. They had good incentive not to hurt her, the very same incentive that drove her not to stake them. Besides, they couldn't afford to turn on each other.

This was different. It was possible that naivety was driving Krista to put too much trust in Ymir, but what could possibly keep Ymir from turning on Krista?

Mikasa and Annie reached the same conclusion at the same time, but Mikasa beat her to the punch. "She's going to kill you, she just wants to gain your trust first."

Annie nodded and forced herself not to react to Mikasa's statement beyond that.

"Really? And you think she'd keep that con up for over two years?" Krista asked, a hint of bitterness and anger sinking into her sweet years.

Annie couldn't help but falter. "Two years?" Even for an especially sadistic vampire, spending that much time on a betrayal con was... weird. It wasn't impossible though; she'd heard of vampires who spend upwards of half a decade tormenting a specific victim. If that was all, she probably would have recovered fairly quickly.

The thing that made her hesitation stick was the flash of passion in Ymir's eyes. "I would never hurt Krista," she growled.

"You're a vampire," came Mikasa's automatic response.

"So?" Ymir retorted. As she spoke, she subtly shifted to cover Krista. As if Annie and Mikasa were the threat. "Just because I don't have a soul doesn't mean I can't love."

Annie pursed her lips. This, she knew, was true to an extent. Vampires had things that they liked. When they liked a person enough, it was possible for that like to grow into care . And sometimes, once in a blue moon, one was even capable of love. Or something close to it. It was selective and selfish, not quite love as humans thought of it, but for a vampire, it was a lot. 

But it was rare. It was even rarer for the vampire to be able to set their innate selfishness aside enough to not kill or turn a human who had become the target of their affection, let alone for a human to be able to tolerate their love. Never mind reciprocate it.

And yet Ymir was implying...

Annie didn't know what to think.

Mikasa didn't look like she did either. However, her expression was settling into something along the lines of disbelief, which seemed to give her the fire she needed to continue. "It doesn't matter if you do or don't," she said. "You've been killing people. "

"No, she hasn't!" Krista cried, wriggling out from behind Ymir.

"You expect us to believe that?" Annie asked. She forced herself to keep her face placid and didn't dare glance at Mikasa.

"Krista, " Ymir hissed.

"You need to have this conversation eventually," Krista said, conviction in her tone. "It should have been the first thing you told the slayers. 

Annie all but felt Mikasa stiffen beside her.

Krista's eyes were hard in a way that Annie had assumed her incapable of when she looked back at the slayers. "Ymir doesn't kill people," she said. "She gets her blood from the butcher."

"You called yourself the biggest fish," Mikasa abruptly piped up, looking at Ymir.

"Yeah, because I'm the strongest vamp you'll find around here," Ymir said. "It doesn't mean I'm responsible for everything that goes wrong."

Annie scowled and turned her gaze to Krista. "You can't believe her," she said, even though she found that she did. She argued because she believed it, lest Mikasa start believing it and look for another target. "She's a vampire."

"I don't care, " Krista ground out. "She's a vampire who's been by my side for nearly three years, and I would trust her with my life. I don't know why people have been disappearing lately, but it isn't her. "

"She's still a vampire," Mikasa said. "We can't-"

"You can," Krista cut in with a hiss. "She isn't hurting anyone, so you should leave her alone. Or you'll have to go through me as well."

"That doesn't sound like much of a challenge," Annie remarked.

"Krista..." Ymir shot her girlfriend an alarmed look, leaned toward her-

And abruptly lashed her leg out, knocking Annie into Mikasa.

"...Let's get out of here."

It only took a few seconds for Mikasa and Annie to regain their balance and disentangle from each other. However, in those few seconds, Ymir managed to scoop Krista up in her arms and disappear into the crowd.

Mikasa moved to take off, but Annie quickly grabbed her arm. "Look at the crowd," she murmured. "They aren't going to stick around, and we won't be able to catch them before they can get out. Going after them will only cause panic."

A few tense seconds passed. When she felt Mikasa's muscles begin to relax, Annie dropped her arm back down to her side.

"...I may have to ask Reiner about that sword after all," Mikasa murmured.

Chapter Text

The week following the visit to the club passed by in a blur. Annie watched as Mikasa doubled down on trying to hunt Ymir, only for none of her efforts to bear fruit. For good reason. The whole time Mikasa hunted, Annie carefully walked the line of looking helpful while contributing nothing. 

Her faked efforts and need to preserve the scapegoat for as long as possible canceled out Mikasa's genuine zeal.

Or maybe Ymir was just better at this than they were. The results were the same either way. It looked like they weren't going to see Ymir again until she was ready to be seen.

Krista had proven herself to be both a help and a hindrance.

Annie hadn't seen the girl since that night at the club. Art was the only class she shared with her, but a little snooping had revealed that she hadn't been to any of her other classes either. Apparently, she had been calling in sick. Although they had been able to find the apartment building she lived in, they hadn't been able to get her exact address, and Mikasa wasn't quite ready to break into every single apartment in her quest to find Ymir.

Or confirm that Krista was still alive.

Annie noticed that Mikasa's anxiety had subtly grown with every day that they didn't see Krista… just not enough to make her break the law. For her part, Annie didn't press the matter. Seeming too willing to break into someone's apartment could set off all kinds of alarms. Besides, it was good that Krista was making herself scarce. If she had decided to stick around and give Mikasa ideas about Ymir's innocence, Annie really might have had to act.

That didn't mean that she was in the clear. Even if she was staying away for the time being, the fact remained that Krista Lenz was an unknown factor in a carefully calculated equation. Ymir too, for all that her little group had been using her presence to their favor so far. They had the potential to throw everything off balance if they decided to get involved. For that reason, they had decided to crack down on as much as they could.

Getting phone taps set up was a risky, tedious, and nerve-wracking process. However, by the end of the week, the phone in Smith's office, Smith's landline, Smith's cellphone, Mikasa's phone, and even Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Armin's phones were all bugged. Annie still had to find an opportunity to get Smith's friend's phones, but she planned on taking care of it soon.

Annie didn't know what to make of those two. An overly energetic watcher and a grouchy little demon hunter, the meeting Smith called to introduce them to everyone had been dominated by the former rambling while the latter glared at anyone who dared to look at him for more than three seconds. She didn't understand how Smith would mesh with personalities like theirs. Yet watching them for a little while had made it clear that the three of them were close. Genuinely close, not like the act that she, Reiner, and Bertolt put on.

Or the lie that she was building with Mikasa.

*

Annie: Patrolling tonight?

Mikasa: Of course

Mikasa: I'll be at your place at 7

*

It was 7:15 when Mikasa arrived. Annie may not claim to know her well, but she had gotten to know the last slayer well enough over the past few weeks to know that being late was unusual for her. She raised an eyebrow when she opened the door for her, allowing it to ask her unspoken question.

"Armin was over," Mikasa said as she stepped inside.

"I see," Annie said, closing the door. "You seem... close."

No. That wasn't right. One of the first things she had learned about Mikasa was that she wasn't truly close to anyone, Armin included. Annie leaned against the door as she reconsidered her phrasing. "You seem like you could be close," she settled on.

Mikasa stiffened. She turned to face Annie, but instead of making eye contact with her, she looked down at the bag that held her slaying supplies. "Yeah," she said, voice soft, but too vague to make out any specific emotion. She clutched her bag to her chest, probably unthinkingly. If she knew that she was holding onto it like a comfort and a shield, god knew that she probably wouldn't let herself. "If things were different, we probably could be."

Annie frowned. So that was the problem, the mindset that she and Reiner had been working so hard to cure her of. (Just in time to snatch her life away from her.) "You keep him at a distance because you're the slayer," she surmised.

"No," Mikasa said, causing Annie to blink in surprise. "It's because of..."

Mikasa hesitated. At least, that was what Annie thought was happening at first. As the seconds dragged on, she saw that whatever she was thinking about seemed to be actively causing her pain.

Annie frowned and stepped away from the door. She wanted to know about Mikasa, but not if it forced the other girl to dredge up painful thoughts. Annie was already going to be enough of a shadow on her existence. If it eased her suffering a little, she was okay with the other slayer dying a mystery. "Hey," she said, "you don't have to-"

"No," Mikasa cut her off. "You deserve to know this." A shadow of resolve fell over her expression as she spoke. She clearly wasn't happy about whatever she was going to say, but that wasn't going to stop her from saying it.

Annie felt something warm flicker in her chest. Maybe it was respect. Maybe it was admiration. Whatever it was, it was helpless to change the course of events. She still acknowledged it, because there was something to be said for someone who was willing to face things that they knew would hurt them. 

This feeling was probably the closest that Annie would ever come to self-sacrifice, the selfish, cowardly person that she was. But she could still allow herself to look at that light.

For as long as it was allowed to burn.

"Do you want to talk in my room?" Annie asked. If Mikasa really was about to spill her guts, then a degree of privacy was the least she could offer her. It was the only thing she could offer her.

Mikasa swallowed heavily and nodded. "Yes please."

Annie nodded and turned to lead her down the hall. The room at the very end was hers. It was small - all of their rooms were. Their organization had paid for them to rent a small house so that they didn't have to take the additional risk that would have been killing someone and occupying theirs, but they hadn't been willing to spring for anything extravagant. At least it wasn't hard to make people believe that a trio of college students could afford to rent it.

If Mikasa had any thoughts on how sparsely decorated the room was, she didn't voice them. Annie lead her over to the bed, where she sat down on one end while Annie took the other. There they sat, Annie trying not to stare too intensely at the other slayer as she waited for her to start. For her part, Mikasa was clearly trying to gather herself. She stared distantly up at the ceiling as she ran through whatever thoughts might be racing through her mind.

Finally, Mikasa shifted her gaze to Annie. "I met Armin through his best friend," she said. "A boy named Eren Yeager."

Annie frowned. Barely anything had been said, yet she already got the sense that it was more complicated than that. The look on Mikasa's face made it impossible for her not to. 

"There was a home invasion when I was fourteen," Mikasa continued. Her voice was gaining a distant quality, like she was trying not to get caught up in the memory. Based on what she was saying, Annie was all but certain that really was the case. "My parents were killed and I was abducted. Eren ran into us when they were forcing me into the car."

Mikasa paused. Her attempt to distance herself from her emotions must not have been working, because something in her gaze fractured.

Suddenly, Annie had a horrible feeling about how this story ended for Eren. 

"Eren saved me," Mikasa managed. "He killed two of my abductors, and when the third arrived, he gave me the strength to kill him myself."

Mikasa had killed someone? A human being? Annie tried to keep her surprise from showing too readily. She must have failed, because Mikasa paused, fresh hesitation written across her features. 

Annie gave a tiny nod. "It was understandable, given the circumstances."

"That's…" Mikasa faltered. "Eren said that they didn't count as human beings."

"I suppose he might be right." Of course, by that logic, she probably didn't either. 

Mikasa nodded. Whether she was agreeing with Annie or simply recalibrating herself, she did not know. The slayer pulled herself together and continued before she had a chance to make a definitive guess either way.

"After that, it looked like things might be... Eren wrapped his scarf around me and said I could come home with him." Mikasa's expression was blank in a way that could only be forced. However, something in her eyes said that she was struggling to breathe. "That was when the vampire showed up. I didn't know that I was the slayer yet or understand what that meant. But I think he knew, somehow, and wanted to kill me before I could become a problem. It was me he was after. But he was harder to fight than a human, and I was scared, and Eren... he wouldn't let him take me without a fight."

For half a second, Mikasa zoned off, her gaze focusing on some point over Annie's shoulder. She snapped back to herself before Annie could figure out if she should say something. It made her wonder if she didn't want any interruptions.

No. It was more likely that she just wanted to be done with this story as soon as possible.

Annie understood the feeling.

"The vampire knocked both of us unconscious," Mikasa continued. "He must have taken the car keys off one of the dead men's corpses, because when we woke up, we were in the trunk. We tried to get out, but it was no use.

"He took us out by a cliff looking over the sea. He went for me first. Eren didn't like that. I tried to fight the vampire off and told Eren to run, but I couldn't... It wasn't..."

Mikasa started blinking as she fell silent. Annie would have been horrified to see the normally stoic slayer struggling to hold back tears if she weren't surprised that she hadn't started crying sooner.

"You were fourteen," Annie whispered. "You didn't have any training or know what you were dealing with."

Even fourteen-year-olds with years of training and who knew what they were dealing with would have a hard time against a vampire. How much had she struggled against Bertolt and Reiner when she was that age? She had been one of the best human cadets in the organization and Bertolt was far too prone to trying to go easy on her, but it was still hard. It might have been easier if she had already been called back then, but even that wouldn't have been enough to make up for the fear and ignorance if she hadn't been aware of the supernatural.

It seemed that Mikasa didn't see it that way. She shook her head and murmured, "I still had the strength of the slayer."

"Raw strength isn't everything," Annie insisted.

"Maybe not," Mikasa said. "But it should have been enough.

Her gaze drifted back to that spot over Annie's shoulder for a moment. Annie couldn't begin to try to gauge the look in her eyes, especially since it was only visible for a short moment. Her eyes switched to something far more shuttered and closed off in an instant.

"I was thrown over the cliff and into the ocean," Mikasa continued. "I thought I was going to die. And for a moment, I did."

The slayer's eyes closed as she remembered the moment, and Annie was foolishly tempted to do the same, just to acknowledge the event that allowed her to come into being.

Even if Annie herself had only become a slayer two years after Mikasa's death. She wondered, did Mikasa realize that some poor, unknown, short-lived slayer had come between them? She must have. Annie had already said that she was called in 2016 back at the meeting. The lost slayer was probably going to be one of those things that no one talked about, for those who realized that she'd even existed.

Just like Eren Yeager.

Mikasa opened her eyes. "The cliff was by a park," she said. "Someone must have heard the commotion, because emergency services arrived and resuscitated me. But it was too late for Eren.

"Armin and I met at his funeral."

Annie felt her mouth go dry. What could she possibly say to that?

Perhaps it was a good thing that Mikasa wasn't done talking yet.

"There were holes in my story. Most of the adults brushed it off as trauma, but not him. He asked what really happened, and I was still weak and scared. I told him everything, and he... he offered to help me. I said no, but I did reach out to tell him when I killed my first vampire, because it was... it was the one that killed Eren.

"I thought that would be it for us, but he kept reaching out. Kept trying... to be my friend." Mikasa paused, the fragile expression of someone caught between hope and longing fluttering across her face before she remembered to shut it down. "And I want to. He's... Armin is good. But that's exactly why I can't let him get close. Erwin may have had a point about him knowing how to defend himself from the Supernatural, but I want him to stay as far away from this as possible. And..."

You can't see him without thinking about Eren, Annie thought.

She understood. That was exactly how she had felt about Porco in the months after Marcel died. That was how she felt when she looked at the vampires she'd been abandoned with for a while after Porco and Pieck disappeared. Armin may have been a good person, but he had also been Eren's best friend, whereas it sounded like Mikasa hadn't even known him for a day. If being around Armin was painful for Mikasa, then she could only imagine how it felt for him.

How difficult must it be to build a genuine friendship around a barrier like that?

Impossible, if you weren't even willing to try.

"...It's complicated," Mikasa finished.

"Sounds like it," Annie murmured. "But... it also sounds lonely."

This, she also understood. That understanding did not make her any less of a vile thing. It did not stop her from taking advantage of a moment of vulnerability and loneliness to draw the other slayer closer to her. Closer to her eventual doom.

"It is," Mikasa admitted. Her words were slow and measured, holding all the weight of an unbelievable, life-changing confession. "But it's... less with you around, I think."

Annie's heart did a funny thing as it tried to stop and speed up at the same time. "Is it?" she asked. The dryness in her mouth was back. She wanted to move closer to Mikasa, even though there were a million reasons why she shouldn't.

"Yeah," Mikasa said. "It's... it's nice having someone around who understands what it's like to be the slayer." Her lips twitched into a small, bittersweet, but genuine smile. Annie's eyes lingered on them. "I'm glad that I met you, Annie."

Annie swallowed heavily. "Me too," she lied. In that moment, she wished that she had never met Mikasa Ackerman. She wished that she'd never even heard of her, that she and her companions had continued with their lives utterly unaware of her existence.

She wished that she didn't have to kill her.

She wished that she didn't want to kiss her so much.

Annie shifted back, only then realizing just how close she had gotten to the other slayer, and stood up. "It's getting late," she said. "We should get patrolling, if you're still interested."

Mikasa nodded, snapping out of whatever trance had fallen between the two of them. "I am," she said.

And that was that.

Or so Annie told herself. Because although she wanted to believe that it was a fluke, that she had caught herself and would be able to continue walking her predetermined path, unwavering and unstoppable...

...In her heart of hearts, she could not deny the tension, that there was tension between them for the rest of the night.

She couldn't quite convince herself that it was gone come morning.

Chapter Text

The weekend sped by in a blur. Another person disappeared, and although Mikasa channeled it into her motivation, she found that she couldn’t shut the rest of the world out completely. There were people who wouldn’t let her.

Mikasa and Annie patrolled separately. Mikasa on Saturday and Annie on Sunday, so that both slayers would have a day to get caught up on their homework. That turned into Mikasa patrolling alone on Monday as well when Annie reluctantly admitted that she hadn't been able to finish an art project due on Tuesday.

Despite insisting that Mikasa not neglect her classes in the name of slaying, Annie had looked distinctly embarrassed to admit that she was struggling in keeping up with one of her own courses. It was faint, but Mikasa had gotten good enough at reading the other slayer to know it was there. She hoped that she didn't feel too bad about it. It wasn't like Mikasa minded going on patrol by herself; for all that Annie's assistance lifted a weight from her back, it wasn't very long ago that she had patrolled by herself almost every night.

It was almost scary how easily they had fallen into a rhythm. How quickly Annie had become familiar, even a comforting, presence despite her initial distrust. Just how quickly she had started to trust her. It was a little overwhelming.

That brought up the other reason she didn't mind doing the Monday patrol alone. It gave her time to think .

Something had changed between her and Annie when she told her about that night. She wasn't certain exactly how or what, but there'd been a distinct shift. There was a weight in their shared glances that hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had, but was only now noticeable. Could the same thing be said of the sparks that danced over their skin when their hands touched? The looks that lingered, the silences that rang heavy with words unsaid?

Mikasa didn't know what was happening or what to do about it, but she was trying her hardest to figure it out.

She didn't know if she could manage by herself, but she didn't think she had another option in this case. Her expanded social life did nothing to change that. Going to Armin for issues like this simply wasn't an option. Jean was nice, but their friendship was also very new and untested. She wasn't comfortable going to him to discuss such complex, mysterious feelings. Sasha had dogged Mikasa persistently enough that she could honestly say that she was a little closer to her, close enough that she had sincerely considered talking to her for a little while. The trouble was that she didn't completely trust that she wouldn't tell Connie, who absolutely would tell Reiner, which would be disastrous on multiple levels.

A ridiculous part of her wanted to talk to Eren about it. It was a horrible idea. Discarding the fact that he wasn't real, she got the sense that he would be all but useless for things like this. Naturally, she had discarded the notion as soon as it had occurred to her.

That didn't stop it from lingering in the back of her mind.

Perhaps that was why he had been trailing after her all morning long. She thought about him, and so he was there.

At least it was easy to ignore him this morning. He had disappeared while she was in History, and although he had reappeared once she left, she knew that she would have plenty to distract her until it was time for American Literature.

One of Erwin's friends had asked everyone to meet them in the library for an "urgent matter". It had sounded like they meant business when Erwin called her. They had gone as far as to book one of the meeting rooms in the library.

However, when Mikasa strode into the room, Erwin's eccentric friend was nowhere to be seen. Behind her, Eren snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's Hanji, alright," he muttered.

Mikasa turned her attention to the people who were there. Sasha and Connie were both there, clustered in on either side of a visibly irritated Jean. They didn't say anything to Mikasa, the two of them too caught up in their conversation and their long-suffering third unable to hear her arrival over their spirited chatter. Armin sat a few spots down from them, caught somewhere between preemptively attentive and uncomfortable and out of place. He shot Mikasa a small smile, which she returned with a nod.

Finally, Erwin sat at the table, a bored-looking Levi lounging by his side.

"Your friend isn't here," Mikasa pointed out.

At least Erwin had the decency to look flustered. "I'm sure Hanji will be along in a moment," he said, tugging on his shirt collar.

Levi snorted. "Four-eyes runs on their own schedule," he said. "They'll be ready when they're ready."

Mikasa pursed her lips. "I don't have all day."

Levi waved his hand dismissively. "This is more important than your classes."

She saw Eren look at her and shake his head out of the corner of her eyes. However, he quickly fell out of her line of sight as she narrowed her eyes at the asshole Erwin had seen fit to call in. He just raised an impassive eyebrow at her, seemingly undaunted by being stared down by a slayer.

Before the interaction could go any further, the door to the meeting room opened again. Annie strode in with Reiner following a short distance behind her. She gave the room a quick once-over before looking at Mikasa, a frown on her lips.

"No Hanji?" she asked.

"No Hanji," Mikasa confirmed.

"Then why..." Annie trailed off almost as soon as she started speaking, gaze following Reiner as he carefully stalked around the edge of the meeting room. It seemed that he had noticed that Sasha and Connie were off in their own little world. Now, he held a finger up to his playfully smirking lips as he snuck up on them.

Once he was directly behind them, he waited for a few seconds, then reached out to drop the palm of his hand on top of Connie's head.

He was greeted by a high-pitched shriek, which got a scream from Sasha, which made Jean curse and drop lower in his chair.

Reiner laughed and jumped back to avoid being swatted at by Connie, who twisted around in his chair in his attempt to get him. "Asshole!" he cried. "Your hands are cold!"

"Just keeping you on your toes!" Reiner teased, unrepentant. Connie let out an undignified squawk and leaned forward to swat at his arm, which just sent Reiner into another round of laughter.

"If you could do that when he isn't close enough to deafen anyone, that would be appreciated," Jean growled.

At the same time, Levi looked at Erwin and informed him, "you're working with five-year-olds."

Erwin sighed. "Levi..."

In response, Levi jerked his head back at Connie, who was glowering at a still-laughing Reiner, and Sasha, who had slithered out of her chair and was now circling the edges of the room in what Mikasa could only assume was an attempt to sneak up on Reiner while he was distracted. "Five," he repeated. "Maybe eight, tops."

Annie looked like she didn't know what to make of everything. Mikasa couldn't say she blamed her. As Sasha slinked around Mikasa in her loop around the room, she couldn't decide if she should say something or just leave the girl to it.

Her mind was made up by Hanji kicking the door open and exclaiming in a sing-song voice, "We have a vengeance demon!"

Mikasa grabbed Sasha by her upper arm and dragged her down into the seat next to her as she sat down. Sasha let out a disappointed whine, but otherwise didn't protest. At the same time, Reiner finally settled down and took the now-open seat next to Jean, while Annie sat down in between Mikasa and Armin. Mikasa's gaze lingered on her for a few moments. However, before she could figure out exactly what she was looking at, her attention was drawn over to Levi.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, shooting Hanji an unimpressed look.

Hanji shuffled both of the heavy cases they were carrying to dangle from their left hand so that they could dig through the pocket of their jeans with their right. After a few seconds of digging, they let out a triumphant, "aha!" and pulled out a small, bright green crystal.

A small, glowing bright green crystal.

Mikasa squinted at the stone, a frown creeping across her face. Now that she was looking closely, it looked like the crystal was actually white around the edges. The color came from the unnatural glow emanating from the center. As she watched, a ripple of intensified color ran over it. It happened again a few seconds later.

Hanji seemed very pleased with themselves. However, when Mikasa took a look around, she noticed that everyone other than Erwin and Levi just seemed confused. Even Eren, who had moved to hover behind Reiner, wore a befuddled look on his face.

The silence that had fallen over the room was broken by Erwin clearing his throat. "A demonic presence detector, Hanji?" he asked.

"Reality-altering demons, specifically," Hanji said. "And it's a strong one, to get a reaction like this." They held the crystal a little higher and turned it over in their fingers, staring at it like it held a treasure trove of information. To them, it probably did.

"And how'd that lead you to a vengeance demon?" Levi asked, crossing his arms. "Last I checked, those things are rare, and there are plenty of reality-alterers."

Hanji clicked their tongue. "Oh Levi, ye of little faith."

Hanji pocketed the crystal, shifted one of their briefcases back into their other hand, and approached the table. They didn't bother sitting down before lifting their cases and all but dropping them on the table in their enthusiasm. One of them landed more loudly than the others. 

 Levi fixed the louder briefcase with a disapproving glower before turning his attention back to Hanji. "Hanji," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Is one of those cases full of rocks?"

Hanji shot him an overly wide grin. "Of course."

Levi looked like he was experiencing a unique, but not unexpected, brand of torment. "Are all of them glowing?"

Hanji laughed. "No - no - that would be-"

"Don't care," Levi interrupted. "Did you call this meeting to force us all to hear about the magic rocks?"

A series of concerned looks made their way across the table. None of them knew Hanji well yet, but there was no denying the sense that if Hanji got talking about something they were interested in, they were going to be there for a while. Mikasa honestly didn't know how she felt about that. She did have things to do, but if it was an interesting topic, she could also think of worse ways to spend her time.

Annie, on the other hand, looked about ready to bolt.

"No," Hanji said. Although they were mainly reassuring Levi, they did shoot a quick glance around the rest of the room, paired with a small smile. "I had the suitcase full of crystals with me for something else. We are here to talk about the vengeance demon."

Mikasa didn't think she imagined the collective sigh of relief.

"Hm." Levi leaned back in his chair, a vaguely disinterested look flitting back across his features. "Get on with it, then."

Mikasa couldn't help but frown at his demeanor. Was this what he was always like? Her gaze flickered over to Erwin. He looked focused and had a slight glint in his eyes, probably eager to get on with the meeting. More importantly, it was nothing that she hadn't seen at all. He seemed entirely unbothered by Levi's general attitude.

That didn't bode well.

Meanwhile, Hanji was undoing a series of locks to open the lighter briefcase. After a few seconds, they flung it open to reveal several folders. They immediately snatched the one at the top and pulled out a stack of papers.

A photograph was on the top of the stack. It was a little grainy, but not so much that it was impossible to make out the person in the picture. Hanji put it down in the center of the table and triumphantly said, "that's how I know we have a vengeance demon."

"You recognize the person in the picture?" Erwin asked. As he spoke, Annie grabbed the photo for a closer look. She stared down at it, expression unreadable.

"Ooooh yes," Hanji said. "One of the first things I did when I got here was set up a few cameras in highly congested areas, and other areas demons are likely to frequent. Well, I haven't been able to find our mystery killer yet - seriously, you were right, Erwin. They seem impulsive, but they must be meticulous about their actual hunting habits, to avoid places frequented by humans and demons-"

"Hanji," Erwin gently prompted.

"Right," Hanji said. "So, this guy popped up and started causing trouble a few years ago. We haven't been able to figure out his name yet, but he's definitely a vengeance demon."

"He looks normal," Annie said, passing the photo to Mikasa as she spoke.

Mikasa accepted the photo and frowned. The photo showed a scowling young man with sandy-blond hair styled into an undercut. He was largely nondescript. The picture didn't show his feet, but Mikasa could make out jeans, a jacket, and some sort of amulet dangling from his neck.

Annie was right. He looked like any other person.

"He would," Hanji said. "Vengeance demons used to be human themselves."

"That's possible?" Sasha asked as Mikasa passed her the picture.

"Of course," Hanji said. "It's true that most demons are born as humans, since witches still count as human and vampires are a subcategory of their own. But there are some types of demons that have human origins and vengeance demons are one of them. They come from a human who has been wronged and feel a powerful need for revenge. So much so that they attract the leader of the vengeance demons, who offers them immortality and the ability to help others enact vengeance in exchange for giving up their human life. Most don't see a reason to say no."

"He looks grumpy," Connie mumbled before passing the photo to Erwin, who glanced at it only briefly before handing it to Levi.

"The ability to help others enact vengeance," Armin slowly said. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"I'm glad you asked," Hanji said. "Vengeance demons grant wishes for people who feel they've been wronged. They approach them at an emotional weak point and get them talking about their problems. Then, if they can get someone to verbally express a wish..." Hanji leaned forward, then clapped their hands, making everyone but Levi and Erwin flinch. "Wish granted."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Jean said. He kept glancing at Connie, who was now in possession of the photo, and seemed to be struggling caught in a fight between his need to maintain his dignity and the urge to peer over his shoulder for a look at it. "If these people have been wronged, don't they deserve someone to mete out justice?"

"There's a lot more to it than that," Hanji said, their voice taking on a grave tone. "Vengeance demons are still demons. Unless the wish they're granting is already especially vindictive, they always add a slant to it that makes it cruel and unusual. It might not be the person making the wish who suffers, but someone will end up in a great deal of pain from the wish, often more than they actually deserve. And if only one person gets the brunt of it, that means you got off lucky."

"And if you didn't?" Sasha asked, a slight waver in her voice.

Hanji smiled grimly. "Like Levi said, vengeance demons are reality warpers. They can manifest demons, wipe people out of existence - the right wish can even spawn an entire alternate universe that the wish maker will be trapped in. And believe me when I say that these universes are always significantly worse than whatever situation they started in."

Jean looked like he might be sick. "Right," he said as he accepted the photo from Connie. "Don't make any wishes. Got it."

Mikasa shot a glance at Annie. Something in her expression was subtly distant. It made Mikasa wonder, had Annie ever dealt with the threat of a demon this powerful? Was she intimidated? It didn't sound like her, but it also wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility. The pull she felt toward her wasn't the same thing as actually knowing her. She couldn't even tell if that was distance in her expression or...

Sadness. Something about Annie looked sad right now.

Despite everything, it was kind of pretty.

Mikasa pushed the thought down and forced herself to focus on the question she should be asking. The only thing that mattered right now. "How do you kill a vengeance demon?" she asked.

"You don't," Hanji said. "But! Did you notice that amulet he's wearing? Every vengeance demon has one; a green gem with red speckles. It's their power source. And, luckily for us, pretty fragile. If you're able to break it, the vengeance demon will be turned back into a demon and the most recent wish they granted will be undone."

"Only the most recent?" Jean asked, still staring at the picture.

"Only the most recent," Hanji confirmed.

Jean hummed and passed the picture to Reiner. Behind his shoulder, Eren leaned forward to stare at it, a pensive expression falling across his face.

"Vengeance demons usually have a particular vendetta that they focus on," Erwin piped up. "Does this one?"

"That's where things get interesting," Hanji said. "All reports say that this demon has a thing for avenging lost loved ones. So either we have an awfully big coincidence on our hands, or..." Hanji trailed off, giving Erwin a long, meaningful look.

"You think he's been drawn in by the disappearances," Erwin summarized.

"Bingo!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Mikasa noticed Annie shift to look at Reiner, who was still inspecting the photo.

"He could also be after someone specific," Annie said.

Mikasa frowned. "You mean he might be seeking revenge on one person?" she asked. It sounded like a broad assumption, but she doubted that Annie would make a truly random guess. If the other slayer thought it was a theory worth considering, then Mikasa didn't want to dismiss it offhand.

"Yes," Annie said. "If vengeance demons are made from vengeful people, then it sounds like he's likely to have a grudge on someone."

"It's possible," Hanji said, "but unlikely. Vengeance demons are organized. They aren't supposed to seek vengeance on their own behalf, and one who does could end up in a lot of trouble." They paused, pursing their lips and shaking their head. "Even if it found the right loopholes, the demon would have to be really reckless to try something like that in the first place."

"Unlikely isn't the same as impossible," Eren murmured. Mikasa risked sending him a look, but he didn't respond, instead continuing to stare at the photo in Reiner's hand.

"Well, I'm sure we'll be able to handle whatever happens," Reiner said, passing the photo across the table to Armin.

"Think you might be being too optimistic?" Jean grumbled.

"Yes," Annie said.

At the same time, Reiner said, "nah."

He paused for a moment, shooting Annie a short glance, before continuing, "maybe vengeance demons are tough, but if you ask me, that guy doesn't look too smart. We'll be fine as long as we just don't make any wishes and destroy that necklace of his."

Annie cast him a long look. "There are a lot of people in this city who might want vengeance."

Reiner shrugged. "So we take care of him sooner rather than later. Now that we all know to look out of him, I'm sure it'll turn out fine. Especially since we have you and Mikasa."

"This is a serious situation, and we need to be careful not to let our guards down," Erwin cut in. "But Reiner is right. If you see the man in this picture, contact me, Hanji, or Levi as soon as possible, and no matter what, do not make any wishes." He slowly shifted his gaze down the table, making sure to make eye contact with every individual. He paused when he hit Mikasa.

"Is there anything else?" Mikasa asked. It was all Erwin was going to get from her. She'd listened carefully and understood what was going on. She didn't need a watcher to hold her hand through whatever came next.

Erwin looked over at Hanji, who shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah," they said.

Mikasa nodded, then looked down at her watch. She had American Literature in fifteen minutes. "I need to get going."

"Yeah," Hanji said. "You should probably all skitter on off to class or whatever it is you do." They waved their hand dismissively even as they pulled out a chair and finally sat down. A quick glance at Erwin and Levi revealed that neither of them looked like they were about to leave either.

Fine. Mikasa wasn't about to ignore a dismissal in favor of lingering around them.

She shrugged her bag back over her shoulder and got to her feet. No sooner had she done so than Sasha all but sprinted past her, babbling something about a forgotten roast. Mikasa couldn't help but pause and blink at the sight.

A groan echoed from across the table. "I warned you not to start cooking just before leaving!" Connie called.

"Conniiiiieee!" Sasha whined as she disappeared out the door and around the corner.

Connie flashed the group an apologetic look that was somewhat hindered by the smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I'd better go make sure she didn't burn her apartment down," he said. With that, he hurried off after his friend.

Annie scoffed. She and Armin were both rising to their feet. Mikasa only had to briefly shoot them a curious look for Annie to say, "we're going to go study in the library." She paused then, something fragile and hesitant showing in her eyes for half a second. "Would you like to...?"

Mikasa shook her head. "I need to get to American Literature," she said. She couldn't help but be surprised by just how reluctant she was to turn the offer down. Watching the hopeful look Armin had given her fade stung, but it was a discomfort that she had long grown used to. The way the fragile thing in Annie's gaze faltered and disappeared - that did something to her. It was what pushed her to hurriedly add, "I'll see you later though?"

Annie offered a small smile. "Yeah," she said. "Meet me in front of the graveyard at eight."

Mikasa nodded.

 "Mikasa, what class do you have?" Jean asked from where he had moved to stand by the door. 

"American Literature," she said.

"With Professor Stevenson?" Jean asked.

Mikasa nodded.

Jean grinned. "Cool; Reiner and I are going the same way. You should walk with us."

Reiner snorted. "Try not to flirt too hard, Jean."

Jean scowled. "Braun, if I was flirting, then believe me, I wouldn't include you in it."

Reiner held a hand over his heart. "Ouch," he said, although his ear-to-ear grin betrayed him. "Words hurt, Kirstein."

Jean scoffed and rolled his eyes before shifting his attention back to Mikasa. He looked like he was torn between whether to say something or wait for her to respond.

"Alright," Mikasa said, taking him out of his misery.

"Great!" Jean said. "That's-"

"He thanks you for gracing his humble self with your presence," Reiner said.

"Would it kill you to keep your thoughts to yourself?" Jean asked, shooting Reiner an entirely unimpressed look. However, despite the bite in his words, Mikasa failed to detect any malice.

It was interesting how different friendships could look on different people.

It was interesting how much she had forgotten about it during her years alone. Interesting how a little under two months of being around other people - not even always directly interacting with them, just being around them - was making her start to remember.

"It might," Reiner retorted.

Mikasa's lips twitched with the urge to smile or laugh. It was subtle enough that she doubted Jean or Reiner noticed, but she did, and that had to count for something.

The three of them left the room, Jean and Reiner continuing to talk while Mikasa walked in silence. She soon tuned it out and allowed it to wash over her. Or at least, she did until they had left the library and were halfway down the hallway that connected it to the English building, at which point Jean asked, "right, Mikasa?"

Mikasa blinked. "Huh?"

"Jojo's Bizarre Adventure," Jean said. "It's nonsensical, right?"

Mikasa blinked. She had absolutely no idea when the conversation had shifted to that topic. And more importantly... "I don't know what that is."

"It's an anime," Reiner said. "And it is not nonsensical if you watch it from the beginning."

"Who the hell would watch that stuff from the beginning?" Jean asked. "Doesn't it have a thousand episodes? And doesn't the beginning suck? Connie spent all of art class ranting about it last week."

"Not a thousand," Reiner countered. "And not everyone got to skip the first part."

"Are you implying that someone made you watch the first part?" Jean asked, incredulous. "Who on earth-"

Reiner hesitated. After a few seconds, he began to say something, only to quickly switch tracks when he saw someone approaching them. "Marco!" he cheerfully called.

"Hey, guys," Marco said. He paused by the side of the hallway, causing Jean and Reiner to step to the side as well. Mikasa paused out of curiosity, but not without an awareness of her need to get to class nagging at the back of her mind.

"What are you talking about?" Marco asked.

"Anime," Mikasa said.

"Oh!" Marco shot Mikasa a look of surprise. "I didn't know you were into that stuff."

"I'm not," she said, "but Jean and Reiner seem pretty interested in it."

Reiner sputtered while Jean began to blush.

"I-I'm not," he stammered. "I was just telling Reiner that Jojo is trash."

"Jojo's Bizarre Adventure?" Marco questioned. When Jean nodded, he added, "I actually really like that one. The first part is my favorite. It's not super popular, but I like the vampires and the poeticism of it."

Reiner chuckled while Jean groaned. "I'm surrounded by people with no taste," he grumbled.

"I mean, have you ever given it a chance, Jean?" Marco asked.

"No," Jean said, "but I've heard about it on the internet. Why would I-"

"If you haven't seen it yourself, you have no room to judge," Reiner remarked.

"Exactly," Marco said.

Jean looked like he was going to argue. Unfortunately, Mikasa didn't have the time to stick around and watch. She took a step back and said, "I need to get going."

That immediately got Jean's attention. "Are you sure?" he asked. "We can-"

"It's fine," Mikasa interrupted. "I just need to get to class."

Despite her abrupt departure, a warm, pleasant feeling lingered in her as she made her way to class.

The feeling faded when, about halfway through the class, her thoughts turned to Annie and that complicated knot of emotions resurfaced.

*

Mikasa thoughtfully shifted the sword from hand to hand. It wasn't particularly fancy or ornate, but it looked like it was well-made. She was surprised by how pleasant the weight was in her hands. Reiner was right, it felt like a weapon that would build a good momentum once she got going.

She and Annie had decided to try using the same weapons tonight, another step to avoid a repeat of anything like the Ymir incident. A quick glance at the other slayer revealed that she looked at ease with her weapon. She had a solid hold on the hilt, but didn't appear to be paying too much attention to it, which meant that it had to be a reflex.

Annie didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything tonight. A bored expression rested on her face as they walked through the graveyard. Her eyes did broad, slow sweeps of the area, never actually pausing on anything except for when they caught on-

Correction. Annie was paying attention to one thing tonight. Mikasa just didn't know what to make of the short yet lingering looks. She also didn't know why she kept glancing at Annie. By now, they had gone on enough patrols together that she knew that she didn't need to keep her eyes on her at all time. The sound of her gentle footsteps and feeling of her subtle warmth beside her should have been enough.

Yet she wanted to see her.

She supposed she could understand why. Annie had a unique beauty to her that was pleasant to look at. But that had nothing to do with slaying. Yes, the sword did enhance it to a degree, but the fact remained that Mikasa shouldn't be preoccupied with staring at her fellow slayer when there was work to be done.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Mikasa was snapped out of her thoughts by a deep growl splitting the air. She turned on her heel to find herself face-to-face with a large, orange, scaled demon. The demon swung at her with one great clawed hand, which she blocked with her sword while twisting out of its reach. The sword's blade struggled against the demon's scales. When she drew it back, she noticed that only a thin line of green blood had been left behind.

The demon hissed at her, fangs flaring out, and lashed at her again. Mikasa easily jumped back. It was tempting to rush in, but with an opponent like this, she wanted to find a weak point first.

A flash of blonde hair in the corner of her eye distracted her - or perhaps it triggered an epiphany. Even after the fact, she wouldn't be able to say which with absolute certainty.

Annie darted toward the demon. She feigned to the left, and when it moved to intercept, slashed her sword against the right side of the stomach. The demon let out a furious roar as green fluid began to spurt from its wound. Then, with surprising speed, it brought its hand down on Annie's chest and shoved, sending her stumbling back and tumbling to the cemetery ground.

That was the opening Mikasa needed. She rushed at the demon's back, aimed the tip of her sword it's heart, and pushed with all her might.

The sword went straight through the demon's chest. It let out a throaty scream and thrashed for half a second before slumping forward. There it lingered for half a second before exploding in a hail of thick green goop.

Mikasa automatically staggered back and raised her arm to spare her face from the worst of the carnage.

Annie wasn't so lucky. When she lowered her arm, she saw the blonde sprawled on the ground, sputtering as she tried to use her sleeve to wipe demon guts off her face. Long strings of dark green clung to her hair while bright green blood ran down her neck in rivulets. When she pulled her hand back to reveal her disgruntled expression, Mikasa noticed the streaks of green that still clung to her jawline, cheeks, and forehead.

It was disgusting.

Yet, somehow, it was also beautiful.

With blood rushing through her veins and the world seemingly standing still around them, Mikasa held a hand out to Annie. She offered her a smile that she hoped came across as encouraging despite the odd way it pulled at her lips. "Good job," she said.

Annie scoffed as she took her hand and let Mikasa pull her back up. "It got a hit in," she said. "That's not what I'd call a good job."

"You gave me a window to kill it," Mikasa pointed out.

"I guess," Annie murmured.

"Aren't you the one who likes to talk about teamwork?" Mikasa asked, a teasing hint leaking into her voice. In her chest, her heart pounded harder than it had any right to. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Or maybe, maybe...

Annie scoffed and rolled her eyes. It was offset by the faint curl of her lips and the twinkle that burst to life in her eyes.

She was beautiful.

And suddenly, Mikasa realized what was going on between her and Annie. It was a revelation, great and terrifying, the recognition of the nature of the energy between them, the connection, the attraction.

Mikasa knew that she was being reckless. She knew that she might regret it. But in that moment, with her heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline rushing through her veins, and blood covering the both of them, she didn't care. Right now, all she could focus on was that Annie was there, the only girl in the world who could understand what she went through, and the heat and tension crackled between them like an electric coil. They were both there and they were both alive. 

What were the odds of that happening?

How long would it stay that way?

At that moment, the answer was clear. Not long enough to wait.

"Annie," Mikasa said, grabbing her wrist and taking a step closer.

The other slayer turned toward her. She moved to say something, but as her eyes caught Mikasa's, Annie closed her mouth and shifted closer to her.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, caught in the moment and each other's eyes.

Then, before this moment of reckless bravery could wear out, Mikasa kissed her.

Annie tasted like blood. Somehow, she couldn't imagine anything else.

Chapter Text

Sleep was a tenuous thing for Historia. Sometimes she could get through the night just fine. Sometimes she would toss and turn, barely dozing off during the night and waking up to another morning where she'd have to put on a pleasant face and pretend that everything was fine.

The worst nights were the ones where she woke up screaming.

Sleeping with Ymir's arms wrapped around her helped keep the nightmares at bay. However, even she could not ward them off completely. There were still times when Historia woke up in the middle of the night with visions of Frieda screaming and snarling demons and shattered church windows flashing behind her eyes. In those horrible moments, the lie that was Krista Lenz felt like it was wrapped around her with the intent to suffocate rather than protect.

Ymir helped. But not even Ymir was truly invulnerable, for all that her strength and bravado tried to lull her into thinking she was. Historia had taken steps to protect her girlfriend after the encounter in the club. She had told the college that she was sick and holed up with Ymir in her apartment, where they had set up hidden cameras around the apartment building and made umpteen plans on what to do if the slayers broke in. Or if they forced them out. Or if they ambushed Ymir when she eventually went outside, because for all that Historia would be happy to make daily visits to the butcher's for the rest of her life if it meant keeping Ymir by her side, she knew that couldn't happen.

She couldn't even manage to keep her inside for two weeks.

Ten days. She only managed to remain inside for ten days, Ymir gradually growing more stir-crazy and Historia more anxious, before they broke. And it was all Historia's fault.

With the threat of the slayers breathing down their necks, the nightmares had increased. She had woken up screaming for seven of the past nine nights. When, on that tenth night, she woke up thrashing in Ymir's arms, concerned eyes staring down at her and the alarm clock on the nightstand reading three A.M., she finally gave in.

It was a short distance from her apartment to the river, and one of the few things that could reliably calm her nerves after an episode like that was going for a walk by the water. That evening, when Ymir caressed her hair and gently suggested that they go for a walk, Historia didn't have it in her to turn her down.

It was risky. There was a chance that one or both of the slayers would have found a reason to be by the river. However, Ymir swore up and down that Mikasa was almost always at the graveyard at three A.M. on weekdays and, Annie, who had been following her around like a cat with a mouse, would likely be there as well.

Historia still made Ymir check the cameras to make sure that the slayers weren't waiting for them outside the apartment. When she couldn't catch so much of as a glimpse of them, they set out.

Walking down the shoreline and breathing in the cool autumn night air, Historia couldn't say she regretted it.

Beside her, Ymir shoved her hands into pockets and glanced up at the sky. "So," she began, extending the word in a drawl. "Want to talk about it?"

Historia shrugged. "There isn't really much to talk about," she admitted. "I don't remember much of it. Just..." She swallowed down the lump in her throat and turned her head to look at the water. "Just that it was about Freida."

Nightmares about Freida weren't exactly uncommon. Most of them featured her in one way or another.

Silence hung over the pair for a long moment. It was broken by Ymir saying, "Well, if it helps at all, I think she'd be proud of you."

Historia glanced over at the vampire and raised an eyebrow. "You sound pretty confident for someone who never met her," she said.

There were many additional statements beyond that comment, things that she couldn't bear to delve into. Maybe someday she would. For now, however, she was content to act like they weren't even there.

Now it was Ymir's turn to shrug. "She sounds like she was the soft, sappy type," she said.

"As opposed to you," Historia countered.

" Exactly, " Ymir said. "You understand me so well, Historia! I really am going to need you to marry me one of these days." She shot her a wide, glowing grin and reached over to ruffle her hair. Historia ducked, but wasn't quick enough to avoid getting several locks of hair brushed out of place.

"Ymir," Historia groaned. Her girlfriend responded by lapsing into laughter, and a smile began to form on Historia's face in turn.

"What?" Ymir teased. "I can't help it if you're-"

Ymir froze, her grin faltering before fading away in place of pursed lips and narrowed eyes. She reached out and grabbed Historia's wrist not a second later.

"Ymir?" Historia whispered, her heart already beginning to quiver in her chest. She forced herself not to pay attention to it. If something was happening, then the last thing she needed to do was give in to panic and fear.

It was a good thing that she was already practiced at pushing those feelings down.

"There's someone up ahead," Ymir hissed.

"One of the slayers?" Historia asked.

She knew she was wrong even before Ymir responded. The gleam in her eyes, the tenseness in her muscles - neither of those things would be quite the same if it was the slayers. This was something that she thought might pose a threat to Historia. Then she slowly shook her head, and the confirmation came soon after.

"A vampire."

Historia nodded slowly. "Is it a stranger, or..."

Ymir took in a deep breath through her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment as she focused on the scent. When she opened them, there was a new fire blazing there. "You know him," she said. "I've caught his scent on your clothes before, when you come back from art class."

Art class? Historia didn't even have to stop and mentally run through the list of her classmates. Her mind immediately zeroed in on the immediate suspect, the vampire Ymir suspected of possessing the legendary gem of amara.

"Reiner," Historia breathed. 

Ymir stepped back and tugged on Historia's arm, gentle but insistent. "We should get out of here," she said.

Faintly, Historia realized that Ymir probably had the right idea. However, she could not deny the idea that was beginning to formulate within the depths of her mind... or the dull ache of anger behind the theory that fueled it.

"Wait," Historia said, voice pitching low. "I want to talk to him."

Ymir shot her a startled look. "Are you nuts?" she hissed. "Historia, I smell blood!"

"No," Historia said. "I have an idea."

Ymir hesitated. As she did so, Historia pulled her wrist out of her grasp, grabbed her hand, and looked into her eyes. "I trust you to protect me," she said. "Now trust me on this."

A long moment passed as Ymir stared at her. Finally, the vampire let out a long breath and nodded. "Alright," she said. "What's this plan of yours?"

Historia smiled. "Stay out of sight and follow my lead," she said. "I think it will become clear pretty quickly."

Ymir was once again reduced to staring at her in silence. For a moment, Historia worried that she might go back on her word. However, after a few heartbeats had passed, she nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.

Historia offered a smile that was meant to reassure her girlfriend rather than express any of her own emotions. Then she resumed walking down the shoreline while Ymir wandered off to the side, disappearing into the darkness.

It wasn't long before a figure came into view. Historia slowed her breathing and stepped more carefully, as if her attempts to be quiet would be any real help against a vampire worth their salt.

Except Reiner didn't react as Historia drew closer. Eventually, she drew close enough to make out the shape of a body in the sand beside him, but Reiner didn't move a muscle. He was just standing there, staring out at the ocean. Historia furrowed her eyebrows. There was a chance that he was just faking her out, but she suspected that wasn't the case. She supposed that it might be in part due to the fact that the wind was blowing away from him and toward her. However, she also couldn't help but note that he seemed rather distracted.

Fine. She could use that to her advantage.

Historia drew even closer, drawing forward and closer to the river with each step. The patchy grass beneath her sandals eventually gave way to sand, automatically making her steps fractionally louder. It didn't matter. Reiner still didn't notice, a fact which became a little less surprising when she got close enough to realize that he was talking to himself. She couldn't quite make out the words, but she could see his lips move and make out the low, soft cadence of his voice.

More importantly, she could make out the body beside him. 

It was a dark-haired, pale-skinned woman who looked like she was in her early to mid-thirties. Historia didn't recognize her. She stared blankly for a few seconds, feeling next to nothing. There was a faint sense of sorrow that someone had died at all, but no true distress or grief over a random stranger. Historia knew all too well that people died all the time. If she cried over everyone who met an undeserving fate, she would never be able to stop.

Frieda would have cried. But Historia was no Frieda, no matter how hard she tried. 

So she stood there and stared for a few seconds. Then, steady and inevitable as the tide, her existing, tepid anger began to rise and grow into ice-cold fury. It probably wasn't fury for the right reason, but if the alternative was no strong feelings at all, she would take it. Especially considering what was at stake. 

Another person was dead. That would be another death that the slayers blamed Ymir for. Another reason for them to want her girlfriend dead.

Historia didn't have anything against Reiner. It was horrible that he was killing people, but frankly, as long as he didn't hurt anyone she cared about, she wasn't sure that she'd do anything about it. Reiner was pleasant company, and while she wouldn't help him, she wasn't going to risk the few things she had come to love to bring him to justice. But if it was between him and Ymir...

There weren't many things left that Historia loved in the world, and it had taken her a while to find them. But now that she had them, she wasn't going to let them go for anything.

So Historia plastered a concerned, fearful expression on her face and stepped up to the vampire. "Reiner!" she called. "What are you doing?"

Reiner jolted , and when he turned around, there was genuine surprise in his expression. "Krista," he said. "You're..." His gaze wandered over to the dead body beside him. "I didn't expect you to be here," he finished.

Here. Where he was dumping the body, he meant. Now that she looked, she could see weights attached to the body's hands and ankles.

The river was deep in places. If he handled this right, there was a good chance that the body would never be found again. Which explained where all the other bodies went. And oh, how much easier it became to let someone else take the blame for your crimes when there was no body to tie it back to you.

Not that Krista was supposed to catch on to all of that so quickly. Instead, she looked up at Reiner with large, watering eyes, and asked, "What is 'here'? Reiner, that's a body. We need to do something! We need to call the police or... or..."

She trailed off. Reiner was looking off to the side and running his hand through his hair, his jaw gritted and tension in his shoulders. It was probably safe for her to "realize" now.

"Did you do this?" Historia whispered, coaching her expression into one of dawning horror.

"Shit," Reiner said. "I'm sorry Krista. I didn't want you to get pulled into this."

A warm flame of vindictive triumph flickered in Historia's stomach as she took a step back and held a shaking hand up to her mouth. "Reiner, are you the one behind the disappearances?" she asked.

"Yeah," Reiner said, his expression hardening. "And I'm sorry, but I can't-"

He was cut off by someone fast enough to very nearly be a drill running up and punching him in the chest, sending him flying down the shoreline. "Thanks for the confession," Ymir snarled.

Reiner managed to land on his feet and was back upright in seconds. He looked at Historia, hard eyes meeting her flinty ones, before looking over at Ymir. "Ymir, I'm guessing."

"I'm surprised you didn't catch on," Ymir said, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought the slayers would have told you about us."

Reiner smiled unhappily. "The consensus is that Krista's being manipulated," he said.

"I'm not," Historia said, voice stony.

"Yeah," Reiner replied. "I'm getting that sense."

As Reiner began drawing closer, Ymir took a nigh-unnoticeable half-step back toward Historia and tapped her wrist. A sign to back off. Historia frowned, but reluctantly began stepping back, only stopping when she was several yards away from the other two. 

"What I'm wondering," Reiner continued as he took a slow step forward, voice level and suspicious, "is how you knew about me."

"You don't recognize me?" Ymir asked. Her eyes were gleaming the way they did when she was about to do something dangerous, and her feet shifted into a more solid fighting stance. "I'm surprised, seeing as I killed your friend and all. Marvel, or something?"

Reiner froze. A shadow fell over his face for half a second, then melted away as his eyes flashed yellow and his face morphed into the snarled visage as a vampire. "You're lying," he spat.

"You seem awfully upset, if I'm just supposed to be a liar," Ymir remarked.

"Marcel was killed by the slayer."

"Sorry to disappoint." Ymir shrugged. "But hey, he's gone and you're here, so I'd say it worked out pre-"

Reiner charged at her. Ymir lunged to the side but was unable to avoid his blow completely. She let out a hiss and staggered, knocked off-balance as his fist grazed her shoulder. Reiner swung around to aim a blow to her head, but Ymir quickly ducked, raising her arms and aiming a kick at his stomach.

But Reiner pulled his punch and grabbed Ymir's leg before she could make contact. Historia’s stomach wrenched at the sharp crack as Reiner pulled Ymir's leg in two directions. At the same time, Ymir twisted around to grab Reiner's shoulders and flipped herself up and out of his grasp. As she twisted, Historia noticed her grab a stake out of her back pocket.

Historia barely even had a moment to wonder at the fact that her vampire girlfriend was carrying around a stake before Ymir plunged the offending object into Reiner's back, right over his heart.

Reiner gasped and jerked forward.

Ymir pulled the stake out and took a step back.

He should have turned to dust. Instead, Historia watched as the hole in his back instantly closed, leaving only a hole in the back of his shirt.

Reiner took a few steps away from Ymir before turning around. There, the pair stared at each other for a long moment, Reiner's hand hovering over his heart and Ymir leaning heavily on one leg. Finally, Ymir's gaze flickered down to Reiner's hand. "Nice ring," she said. "Wonder how you'd fare against me without it."

"I don't plan on finding out," Reiner said, smiling grimly.

Reiner charged at Ymir, but she lunged forward and grappled him, pivoting on her uninjured leg and using his own momentum to fling him into the river. He hit the waves with a splash and sank like a rock, although Historia knew that it wouldn't keep him down for too long.

Ymir knew it too. She raced over to Historia, or at least, moved as fast as she could in her condition, and moved to pick her up.

Historia wriggled out of her girlfriend's grip and hissed, "Ymir, your leg!"

"Will heal no matter how badly I fuck it up," Ymir said. Historia might have even bought it if her gritted teeth didn't give away how much pain she was actually in. "But you-"

"-Can move faster than you right now," Historia interrupted. "Let's be smart about this." With that, she manhandled Ymir’s arm over her shoulders and all but dragged her girlfriend back up to the path. Once they were on even cement, she picked up the pace and began walking as fast as possible while aiding Ymir. 

For her part, Ymir was forced to slump and clearly reluctant to actually lean on her. However, once Historia started speeding up, she gave in and allowed her to bear some of her weight. Historia might have smiled if it weren't for the dire situation.

"Is he following us?" Historia asked.

"No,” Ymir said. "He isn't gonna. He still has to take care of the body. He's gone this long without a corpse being found, it'd mean a lot of trouble if one shows up now. Besides..." Ymir let out a pained laugh. "I staked him. He knows he’d be dead without that ring. He'd be an idiot not to let us get away."

Historia nodded and tried to swallow down her unease. She wasn't about to slow down and gamble on Reiner's willingness to let them escape, but it was good to know that she probably didn't have to worry about a furious vampire attacking them from behind. Even if there were what felt like a million other things that she did have to contend with. Such as...

"I'm sorry I got you hurt," Historia murmured. Since her car was now in sight, she allowed her gaze to drop for a moment before fixing it dead ahead once more.

Ymir laughed again, this time a little less pained and a lot more triumphant. "Hey, don't worry about it," she said. "What you got us is a lot more useful than an uninjured leg. Speaking of which... do you think you could get me a few phone numbers?"

Historia didn't even need to think about it. Being Krista Lenz, warm, kind, and so very involved with her school, came with a lot of benefits. However, she did pause as she led Ymir over to the passenger side door. Once her girlfriend was secure, she walked around to the driver's seat and climbed in. As she buckled her seatbelt and put the key in the ignition, she said, "Of course."

"Good," Ymir replied. A grim smile spread across her lips. "It's about time Ackerman and her friends found out who they're dealing with."

Chapter Text

Mikasa woke up with a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. It spread out through her body and into her limbs. It did not make the world seem softer or kinder - she had seen too much for such a thing to be possible. But it did make her feel that much more capable of facing the day ahead. It made her exhaustion a little weaker and her will to fight a little stronger. Maybe, just maybe, that was because it was suddenly so much easier to remember that she had a reason to fight.

What she was feeling wasn't love. Mikasa had never experienced romantic love, but she knew enough to know that this wasn't it. It was too new. Too fresh. There was too much that she didn't know about Annie, too many feelings that came up when she thought about her that she hadn't yet identified. This was something vague and tentative and mysterious. Yet it was also undeniably nice. Refreshing. It was the knowledge that she wasn't alone anymore. That there was someone who understood her, and an attraction that drew them closer together. It was...

...If she allowed herself to hope, she would go as far as to say that it was something with potential.

Mikasa hadn't allowed herself to hope in a long time. She wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to do so now. So instead, beyond a moment of consideration early in the morning, she didn't allow herself to think too heavily on the feelings. She would simply settle for being happy that they were there.

Her day panned out to be a simple one. Annie was busy, but Mikasa didn't have any plans other than trigonometry class in the evening and patrolling after it. That was fine with her. She used the opportunity to get caught up on her admittedly daunting pile of late trigonometry work. Assignments from that class piled up quickly, and even with Annie taking some of the weight off her shoulders, she hadn't managed to get fully caught up.

It took several hours to work through her to-do pile, but she didn't mind. There was something nice about being able to block the problems of the rest of the world out and focus on numbers and equations.

Then, an hour before she had to get going to trigonometry class, her phone rang.

Mikasa ignored it at first. However, not even a minute after it stopped, it began to ring again. With a frown, Mikasa pulled it out of her pocket and checked the ID.

Unknown number.

She let the caller go to the answering machine without picking up.

They called again.

And again.

She broke down and answered on the fourth call. As a rule, she tended not to answer her phone for unknown answers. However, if something was urgent enough for someone to call her four times in a row, then she supposed she could give them the time of day, however irritating it may be.

"Hello?" Mikasa answered.

"Ackerman," replied a familiar, unwelcome voice. "It's Ymir."

Mikasa's good mood died instantaneously. She reflexively tightened her grip on her phone, the device straining beneath the pressure. "How did you get this number?" she hissed.

"Doesn't matter," Ymir said.

"Was it Krista?" Mikasa pressed.

Ymir scoffed. "You really think Krista is going around sharing her classmate's numbers?" She barreled on without giving Mikasa a chance to respond. "It really doesn't matter. I have something important to tell you."

Mikasa grit her teeth. "There's nothing I want to hear from-"

"Bertolt and Reiner are vampires."

The air around Mikasa seemed to freeze. "Excuse me?" she breathed, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Bertolt and Reiner," Ymir repeated. "Annie's friends? They're vampires."

"No," Mikasa said, not a hint of hesitation in her tone. "That's impossible."

"Why?" Ymir questioned. "Because you've seen Reiner in the sunlight?"

Mikasa pursed her lips. "For a start."

It was impossible because Bertolt and Reiner were Annie's friends. Reiner was warm and kind. She may not have seen soft-spoken Bertolt as often, but he was supportive and treated the people around him nicely. They were her allies. At this point, she might even go as far as to say that they were her friends as well.

They weren't soulless monsters.

However, Ymir seemed set on a different story. "Ever noticed that ring Reiner wears?" she asked. "Gold with a big green stone?"

There was no reason for Mikasa to hesitate. There was absolutely no point in her entertaining a single word that this vampire had to say. Yet something in Ymir's voice, the confidence and condemnation, sent a shiver running up her skin. That made her pause for a moment.

Ymir seemed to take that pause as an invitation to continue. "It's called the Gem of Amara. You can ask your watcher about it. When a vampire wears it, it grants them complete invulnerability. Can't be staked, can't be beheaded, and holy water, crosses, and sunlight all have no effect; but they're still a vampire."

Mikasa stayed silent for another moment, trying to wrap her mind around the ridiculous story that Ymir was trying to spin. It was a mistake. Ymir paused for just a second, and when Mikasa failed to cut her off, she added in a forceful, demanding tone, "you've been all buddy-buddy with Reiner. Tell me, have you ever touched him? He's awfully cold, isn't he."

"Reiner isn't a vampire," Mikasa snapped. "He's a good person, not a murderer."

"Then how come Krista and I found him tossing a body in the river last night?" Ymir snapped right back. "He was going to kill her for walking in on him. Want proof that he isn't human? We can meet up; I have a broken leg from our little fight."

A faint, cold feeling began to sink in Mikasa's stomach. She ignored it.

"You're lying," she said.

"I'm not," Ymir replied. "But okay, you won't believe me about Reiner. What about Bertolt? Tell me, Ackerman, have you ever seen him out in the sunlight?"

This was a dangerous game. She didn't want to give Ymir any information that she could use. At the same time, she couldn't just stand there and let those accusations slide. So slowly, cautiously, but as cold as the winter's frost, she said, "it's his schedule. He works all day and takes classes online."

"Have you checked?" Ymir asked.

Mikasa faltered. "What?"

"Have you checked," Ymir repeated. "Because if you look for a roster of the college's online students, I guarantee that he won't be on it. Hell, do you have any proof that he actually has a job? Ackerman. Is there even one shred of evidence to support those claims?"

Mikasa didn't allow herself to be moved. "Annie's a slayer. That's evidence enough."

"Yes," Ymir said, her voice deepening with enough gravity to make a lump form in Mikasa's throat. "She is. And that's why you need to understand that you are in serious danger."

The coldness in Mikasa's chest began to spread. She ignored it. "Why would you care if I was in danger?" she asked.

"I don't," was Ymir's immediate response. "But I care about Krista, and Reiner was going to kill her last night."

"You're a vampire," Mikasa said, not even acknowledging the other lie.

"And that means I can't have anyone I care about?" Ymir retorted.

Mikasa took in a long breath and slowly let it out. "I don't have time for this," she said.

Ymir snorted."Good, because I didn't call you to talk about philosophy. Bertolt and Reiner are vampires, and Reiner's going to be damn hard to kill, but they're also just pawns working for something much longer. Ask your watcher about the Tybur Group."

A moment of silence. Mikasa wanted to protest, defend Annie. Find the flaws in Ymir's argument and point them out, because there had to be so, so, so many. What Ymir was saying couldn't be the truth. She shouldn't even be entertaining the thought. Yet the faintest whispers of doubt had begun to sprout on her mind, and they were enough to freeze her solid.

The moment was shattered by Ymir's low but urgent hiss. "Think about it, Ackerman. What could pose a bigger threat to a slayer than another slayer? Leonhart and hers didn't come here to help you, they came here to get you out of the way. "

It was a lie. It had to be. Annie was all about teamwork (it got her close to her) and had found her because she didn't want to be the only slayer anymore (she'd said so little about herself). Bertolt and Reiner were kind, friendly people (element of surprise). Meeting Annie in the graveyard that night might have been the best thing that had happened to her in years (good things didn't just happen).

Mikasa should have said something.

She didn't, and so Ymir pressed on. "You care about the well-being of the world, right? Well, if they kill you, Tybur will have the one and only slayer in their pocket. And once that happens, the world will start looking a lot different."

Her words shocked Mikasa out of her stupor. "That's ridiculous," she said, because it was. It had to be. The big, devastating picture Ymir was hinting at was a betrayal of Annie's very nature as a slayer. Mikasa's stomach twisted with guilt at even entertaining the thought. (Yet the coldness of suspicion continued to spread through her veins.) Besides... "Annie saved my life when we met."

"And Reiner's been doing a good job of worming his way in with your friends, by the sound of it." Ymir paused for a heartbeat. When she resumed speaking, her voice had grown fractionally softer. Sympathetic. "It's a cruel game, Ackerman. That doesn't mean they aren't playing."

Mikasa felt sick. She reminded herself that that was probably Ymir's aim. The vampire had probably called her to knock her off balance and make her doubt her allies. Mikasa opened her mouth to say as much, but before she could get a word out, Ymir was talking again.

"Don't trust me. Then talk to Leonhart. But not right away. Take your time, think it through, and get ready to fight for your life first, because she is not the person you want her to be." Ymir paused and Mikasa heard a faint huff and the sound of shuffling papers. "I have other idiots to warn, but. Good luck. Try not to die."

The line went dead.

Mikasa pulled the phone away from her ear, and for a moment, all she could do was stare.

Then she started to plan.

*

Erwin would want to know about the phone call. However, Mikasa dismissed the thought of going to him as soon as it had occurred to her. This was between her and Annie, and she could handle it without his interference.

So she blocked all thoughts of her watcher from her mind and focused on the facts.

Mikasa liked Annie, more than she had expected to, maybe even more than she should. She trusted her. Over the past handful of weeks, she had even come to depend on her to a degree.

She did not know her well. She did not know Reiner well. She was only somewhat familiar with Bertolt. As much as it hurt to acknowledge those facts, to let that whisper of suspicion in, she would be a fool to not acknowledge it at all.

Ymir was right about one thing. This whole thing could be settled by a conversation. Odds were, the vampire was hoping that Annie would be hurt and offended that she even considered Ymir's accusations. She wanted the weight of the accusation to tear them apart. However, Mikasa trusted that Annie was more logical than that. She had to be aware of how little she had told Mikasa about her own past. She would understand that Mikasa couldn't just brush Ymir's story off without looking into it at all. The distrust may sting a bit, but it would not tear them apart completely. They may even come out stronger for having had the conversation.

Once that was over with, Ymir would be well and truly dead. Neither of them would tolerate a vampire messing with them like that, especially one who already killed scores of innocent people. They would double down on their hunt and Ymir would be dead within the week.

It was a headache, but it was straightforward and simple.

Except it wasn't. Mikasa also had to consider the elephant in the room, the entire reason why she couldn't just ignore Ymir's call.

The possibility that she was telling the truth.

That possibility made Mikasa text Annie to tell her that she wouldn't be in trigonometry class today and request that they meet in the graveyard. It was the reason why she readied her crossbow, one of her knives, and a sword, but didn't bother with a stake.

A stake was far from the most efficient weapon when dealing with a slayer.

It probably wouldn't come to that. Mikasa knew (hoped) that it wouldn't come to that. However, there were parts of Ymir's warning that just wouldn't be shaken off. So, on the tiny, improbable, impossible chance that the vampire was telling the truth and her fellow slayer was the enemy...

She got ready to fight for her life.

*

The sun had long set by the time Annie appeared in the graveyard. It wasn't an accident. Mikasa had asked her to show up later than usual, just to be safe. If there was going to be a fight...

There wasn't going to be a fight. Ymir was messing with her, Annie and her friends were allies, and they would have all of this cleared up and sorted out before the night was over. Mikasa was taking precautions even though she knew there was no real reason for them. However, if, theoretically, two slayers were going to fight, she would want to minimize the odds of them being spotted.

Annie only had her sword with her. That was good. Mikasa glanced down at her own weapon, clasped tightly in her hand, before turning her attention back to the other slayer.

Annie wore a somewhat puzzled expression, but otherwise looked like she wasn't going to comment on her fellow slayer's odd behavior. That changed when she drew a little closer. A slight frown fell across her lips as she took in Mikasa's expression, followed by a furrowing of her brow. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Ymir got my phone number," Mikasa said.

"Ymir," Annie repeated, surprise flickering across her face.

"Yeah," Mikasa said. "She... told me a story, about you, Bertolt, and Reiner."

For a second, the surprise lingered on Annie's face. Then it began to fade away into an expression that wasn't quite stony. It should have been, but there was something under it, feverish, wild, and fighting to get out.

No.

"Oh?" Annie asked, lips quivering.

Prove her wrong, Mikasa thought.

"She said that Bertolt and Reiner are vampires, and that you're here to kill me."

Please. Prove her wrong.

Annie stared.

Then she began to laugh.

No.

Mikasa took a step back, but the laughter continued. Annie's face began to flush bright red as she tilted her head back and placed a hand over her stomach.

Moving thoughtlessly, like nothing more than a puppet powered by the knowledge of what she was supposed to do when faced with an enemy, Mikasa extended her sword.

"I told- I told Reiner this was a bad idea," Annie wheezed.

"Is that a confession?" Mikasa asked, voice colder than she'd heard in months.

Annie straightened her head to give Mikasa a wild, joyless grin. It was nothing like she had seen on her before. Or more it was more true to her than anything she'd seen yet. Looking at it, Mikasa suddenly realized that she wouldn't know the difference.

"Mikasa," Annie said. "It's been fun."

And then the other slayer drew her sword and lunged for her throat.

Mikasa ducked and raised her sword. The clash of steel against steel was as much of an anchor as it was a shock, a reminder that this really was happening, that she couldn't allow herself to think or feel yet. She pushed back against the force bearing down on her. When she felt Annie's sword begin to slip, she lunged to the side and sprang upright.

Annie swept her leg out to try to knock Mikasa's feet out from under her. Mikasa jumped and swept her sword out at Annie's still-moving leg. The side of it grazed her thigh, drawing a line of blood to the surface but earning no outward reaction from the other slayer.

A flash of Annie's free hand told Mikasa that she was going for her dagger. Mikasa lashed at her with her sword, but Annie ducked down and somersaulted forward, springing up only inches away from her face.

Annie thrust her dagger forward.

Mikasa dropped her sword and grabbed her wrist before the blade could plunge more than a  centimeter into her stomach.

Mikasa wanted to gasp. She wanted to gasp from the pain of the knife in her gut. She wanted to gasp because this was actually happening. She wanted to gasp because she had been foolish enough to end up in this situation in the first place.

Instead, she looked Annie in the face. Time seemed to freeze as their eyes met, Annie trying to force her dagger further into Mikasa’s stomach while the other slayer’s grip on her wrist held firm. 

Annie’s eyes darted down, and time resumed. Mikasa brought her leg up and kicked Annie in the stomach. The force of it made her drop her dagger and sent her flying several feet.

Mikasa turned her mind away from the pain and forced herself to move quickly. She pulled the dagger out of her stomach - painful and risky, but necessary to keep fighting - and opened her bag to drop it in. Instead of picking her sword back up, she kept the bag open long enough to grab her crossbow, already primed and ready to shoot.

When Annie got to her feet, it was to find the crossbow aimed at her face. She glanced down at the sword in her hand, then at the weapon, then at Mikasa's face.

Their eyes met, and Mikasa did the worst possible thing.

She hesitated.

And Annie turned and ran. Mikasa adjusted her aim and pulled the trigger. A bolt flew forward and embedded itself in Annie's shoulder. The rogue slayer let out a sharp cry and stumbled, but did not stop running. Mikasa took off after her, but couldn't run as fast as she needed to with the sharp, persistent pain in her stomach.

The chase couldn't have lasted for longer than a few minutes. Soon Annie was gone, and Mikasa was left alone in the graveyard. The graveyard, where she absolutely could not afford to stay right now. Because if Ymir had been right about Annie...

A massive weight came crashing down upon Mikasa's shoulders. Everything that she had been naive enough to shuck since she met Annie, plus the reality of this new situation. More than the stab wound, it made every step feel like a marathon as she limped her way back to where she had dropped her sword.

The sword that Reiner had given her.

Mikasa stared blankly at the weapon as she picked it up. It wouldn't do to leave a weapon sitting around in the graveyard, but she was suddenly very certain that she wouldn't be using it much in the future. 

*

Walking back to her apartment was grueling. The pain radiating from her stomach made her want to walk slowly, but she couldn't afford to. If someone caught her walking around with a stab wound, she'd have to make up a cover story and waste precious time with a hospital visit. If an enemy happened upon her in this state, she would be at a stark disadvantage.

And it seemed that she had more enemies than she had realized.

No. Not seemed. The blood smearing across her stomach was proof of how foolish she had been.

Mikasa closed her apartment door, then leaned heavily against it. The keys shook and slipped in her fingers as she locked it. When she finally heard that click, it didn't come with its usual sense of security. Instead, Mikasa just felt... numb. Empty. Foolish.

Alone.

She looked down at the sword still grasped in her hand - Reiner's sword - and let it go. It fell to the ground with a clatter. Next, she let her shoulders go slack and felt her weapon's bag slip off and onto the floor beside it. Her keys were pocketed, but for a moment, it felt like those would slip from her fingers as well. It was tempting to allow herself to drop to the ground as well, to slide down against the door and give in to the emptiness and despair inside her.

She didn't. Couldn't. She was the slayer, and that meant she had a duty to do. That duty wouldn't be aided by tears or emotions.

Mikasa had to take care of her wounds, get back into fighting condition, and then she would do her duty.

Blood dripped onto the carpeting as she walked into the apartment. She noticed it, distantly acknowledged that she would have to clean it up later, but it quickly disappeared into the depths of her mind. Everything did. The only thing she allowed herself to focus on was taking one step after the other.

She walked through the kitchen on her way to the bathroom. As she passed the kitchen table, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and set it down. Her fingertips left little smears of blood on the back of the casing.

Upon reaching the bathroom, she headed straight for the tub. She squatted down beside it in order to avoid jostling her stomach too much, put the stopper in, and turned the hot water on. Then she stood up and turned to the first aid kit sitting beside her sink.

A consequence of being the slayer was that a normal first aid kit wouldn't cut it. Mikasa's was larger than most people and contained, among other things, advil, rubbing alcohol, a suture needle, and sterilized suture thread. Those were the items that she fished out and carefully set on the toilet. 

First, she swallowed a couple of advil dry. Then she began the painstaking process of taking off her blood-stained clothes. It was difficult to do without jostling her stomach too much, especially her shirt, but she managed.

She didn't know if doing this in the bathtub was a good idea, but at the moment, she didn't care. It was going to be painful, unpleasant, and difficult no matter how she went about it. The warm water might make it a little more tolerable, so she was going to take advantage of that.

Mikasa got in the water before getting started. She allowed her torso to sink beneath the water and winced at the fresh sting when water seeped into the wound. Her blood rose into the water in a cloud of pinkish-red. For a moment, she stayed still. Then she began to tenderly rub at the edges of the wound, washing off the bits of blood that had dried against her skin.

Her eyes began to water. She didn't allow herself to think about the reason why.

Once her skin was clean, she used her foot to turn the tub's faucet off, then pulled herself up so that the wound was out of the water. The movement sent a fresh burst of pain through her torso, to which she grit her teeth and reminded herself that the worst was yet to come.

Mikasa reached over the edge of the tub, toward the toilet, to grab the rubbing alcohol. She opened it and dropped a splash onto her wound, then gasped at the sting it elicited. Still not the worst part.

The needle and suture thread were in individual packages. She opened both and threaded the needle, then dipped the needle in the alcohol just to be safe.

Then came the miserable part.

Mikasa had to focus on what she was doing to make sure she handled the stitching correctly, but it was also easy enough that she didn't have to put much conscious thought into it. That was how she powered through. Although a good portion of her willpower was spent on staying still, she focused the rest of her mind on everything that was worse than having to suture her own stab wound.

Mikasa had tricked herself into believing that a second slayer meant that she wasn't alone while getting cozy with an enemy. Because that was what Annie was. A threat. A rogue slayer. An evil slayer, if she was cooperating with vampires. Because that was what Bertolt and Reiner were. Vampires.

None of them had truly wanted to work with her or be her friend. They had espoused the merits of teamwork to her because she would be easier to kill if she trusted them. She could see it now, how the manipulation worked, where she had been too quick to trust.

She had decided to trust someone for the first time in years, and this was where it had gotten her.

Annie wanted to kill her. It was her mission to kill her, from what Ymir had said.

Mikasa may not have known Annie half as well as she had let herself think she did, but she knew that she would not give up on a mission easily. Not a real one, one that she had truly dedicated herself to.

If Annie wanted to kill her, then Mikasa would have to kill her first.

Just like she would have to kill Bertolt, who was rarely seen not because he was shy and had a busy schedule, but because he couldn't step into the sunlight without bursting into flames.

Just like she would have to kill Reiner, who was a soulless murderer with a ring that granted him invulnerability.

None of them were her friends. And Mikasa had been foolish and weak to let herself think that they were.

The thoughts created a miasma of anger and guilt that didn't quite dull the pain, but redirected it enough for her to power through the operation. She clung to it until she had sewn the final suture, at which point she, blinked the tears out of her eyes, tied off the sutures, and broke off the needle and remaining thread with a sharp gasp.

Mikasa allowed her muscles to go law and slumped back against the bathtub. She didn't sink low enough to submerge her stitches, but it was a close thing. The edges of her vision flickered black as pain coursed through her. It was a sharp stabbing in her stomach, as if Annie were still digging the knife in, that faded into a throbbing ache as it radiated out into her limbs. She knew that the pain would begin to fade if she just gave it time.

She didn't have time to wait for the pain to fade. The most she could justify was waiting until it had dissipated enough for her to be able to move. Regardless of her personal feelings for Erwin, she could see where it would be foolish not to inform him of all that had happened. Plus she would have to warn everyone else about Annie, Reiner, and Bertolt.

They wouldn't take it well. Annie and Bertolt had kept some distance, but most of the group had grown attached to Reiner, blissfully unaware of the false pretenses their relationship was built upon. Perhaps it was a good thing that Annie had stabbed her. Physical proof would make it easier for her to get them to believe her. After that, she would only have their actual reactions to worry about.

Mikasa was overcome by a wave of exhaustion that had nothing to do with her injury. She leaned her head back and allowed her eyes to slide shut.

When she opened them a few seconds later, Eren was standing over the bathtub and staring down at her.

His eyes were glistening.

"Mikasa," he said. "I'm so sorry."

Mikasa glanced down at her stomach. Flecks of blood welled up around the crisscrossed black of the sutures. If she squinted, it almost looked like a mouth snarling up at her.

"It's fine," she murmured, voice dull and lifeless. "It'll heal."

"That's not what I meant," Eren said. There was no denying the pain in his voice, something caught between desperation and loss. Mikasa may have tried to analyze it at another time. Right now, with all her earlier feelings flowing out of her as exhaustion and pain took over, she just couldn't bring herself to make the effort. Instead, she watched as he knelt down beside her. He started to reach out a hand, but faltered and withdrew it when his fingertips were a few inches away from her arm. Or the illusion of them, at least.

"I'm sorry that I let this happen," Eren clarified. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about them."

Oh. So this was what was happening.

Mikasa tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "I should have figured it out," she said. "I let them trick me, and I only have myself to blame. I don't need you to remind me."

"That's not what I meant," Eren insisted, the strain in his voice building until it sounded like it might break. "I hoped that you could reach them, and maybe we wouldn't-"

"-Eren," Mikasa cut in before he could get any further, or the stinging in her eyes could get much worse. She'd already cried too much today. She didn't need to add any more tears to her mess. "I can't do this right now."

A moment of silence. Then, just before Mikasa was going to open her eyes, Eren whispered, "alright. Just remember that I'm sorry. I didn't... This wasn't my intention."

"I know," Mikasa said. "But when I open my eyes, I need you to be gone."

No response. She kept her eyes shut for several more moments, just to be safe. Then, slowly, she opened her eyes.

She was alone once again.

Mikasa allowed herself to linger in the bathtub for several more minutes. It could have been more, but the water was beginning to grow cold. The whisper of a chill dancing over her skin reminded her that the world wouldn't stop and wait for her to have a breakdown.

With gritted teeth, she began the painstaking process of extracting herself from the bathtub. Standing up made flashes of black cling to the edges of her vision once again. She braced a hand against the tub's wall and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, the pain hadn't faded, but her vision had refocused, which was enough for her to work with. She grabbed the fluffy white towel hanging from the shower rod and carefully wrapped it around herself. Pinkish droplets of blood-soaked water sank into the fabric, telling her that she would need to include it in her next load of laundry.

She made her way into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of pajamas. It felt like a defeat - the admittance that she wouldn't be doing anything else that night. She dealt with it by reminding herself that she shouldn't risk anything more. Tomorrow she would be healed enough to put actual clothes on. However, if she tried for too much tonight and tore her stitches, then her healing would be set that much further behind.

Once she was dressed, a deep, guilty part of her wanted nothing more than to lay down in bed and go to sleep.

Mikasa pushed it down and forced herself to walk into the kitchen. There, she sat down at the table and picked up her phone, which was now flecked with dried blood.

Three calls were waiting on her voice mail. 

As she stared at the notification, her phone started ringing once more. She answered it immediately.

"Mikasa," came Erwin's voice, rushed and urgent. "You need to get to my house immediately."

Mikasa swallowed down the lump rising in her throat and asked, "why?"

"Marco Bodt has been murdered."

Chapter Text

"Kirstein. It's Ymir; I'm sure the slayers have told you all about me. Probably not good stuff either, so right now, I need you to ignore all of that and listen to me. Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover are vampires, Reiner has a gem that lets him walk in the sunlight, and Annie is in league with them. I have too many damn calls to make to go into detail, but Reiner's the killer you've been looking for. Bastard almost took Krista out last night. They're after Ackerman, and if you want to stay alive, you'll stay the fuck away from them. I mean it. They are not the people you think they are."

*

"Hey Jean, I just got a really weird voicemail from someone called Ymir. She was talking about vampires and magic rings and... something about Reiner being a murderer? It's probably nothing, but... she sounded really worked up and angry for a prank. I'm going to go over to Reiner's place and talk to him. I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure we can talk it out. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know in case you get a call as well. I've got it under control."

*

Jean felt all the blood drain from his face as he stared down at his phone. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to think or feel.

Then he called Marco.

No answer.

He called again.

No answer.

After the third missed call, he pulled on his shoes and raced out of the apartment.

The first message had left him breathless - how the fuck had the vampire that Mikasa and Annie were hunting gotten his phone number?

That much he figured out almost immediately. It wasn't a nice thought, but it was the obvious answer. Ymir and Krista had been seen together at the club, and from the sound of it, they had been very friendly. Maybe the slayers were right and Krista was being manipulated. Maybe they weren't. Either way, he imagined that someone as charismatic and involved in the college as Krista wouldn't have much difficulty getting her hands on some phone numbers. It was an upsetting thought, but it wasn't his priority right now.

He didn't believe Ymir for even a second. But if she was involved, he did believe that Marco was walking into danger.

And he was walking into it blindly.

Jean cursed himself for listening to Erwin as he raced down the steps and to the rack that his bike was attached to. With fumbling fingers, he put in the code and yanked it free. He tore it from the rack and jumped on without bothering with a helmet.

As he peddled, his heart raced. Something cold slithered down his throat and into his stomach as he considered what might be waiting for him. Was this some elaborate trap set by Ymir? Would he get there to find everyone dead and the vampire waiting to set upon any of the slayer's friends who were foolish enough to show up? Did Bertolt and Reiner know about the story she was spinning? God, was she planning on turning them? Was she planning on turning Annie ? He didn't know what a slayer being turned into a vampire would mean in the grand scheme of things, but he couldn't imagine that it was anything good.

Was Marco going to die because Jean hadn't told him the truth?

The cold feeling spread throughout his body as worse and worse scenarios flashed through his mind. He could almost taste the fear threatening to paralyze him - or maybe that was bile. He definitely wouldn't be surprised if he ended up vomiting at some point in the night. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that if he didn't do anything, it could cost Marco his life. He had to - he had to -

He didn't know what he would do. What he could do. But he had to do something. Every bit of logic and reason within him told him to go back home and call Mikasa, and he wanted nothing more than to listen to it. The only problem was the obnoxious little thing he called a conscience, reminding him that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to do something.

Damnit. He was probably going to get both of them killed.

He'd almost made it to Reiner's house when he rode past an alleyway. Jean caught sight of three figures standing by its mouth out of the corner of his eye. It was only a glimpse, but with his heart pounding in his chest and adrenaline rushing through his veins, it was enough to make him slam his feet against the pavement to stop his bike. He jumped off and abandoned it right on the side of the street as he rushed over to the alleyway.

His first instincts had been correct. No more than a few feet into the alleyway, Marco stood facing a stern-faced Reiner and Bertolt, talking rapid-fire and peppering his words with expressive gestures.

"Marco!" Jean called.

Marco, Reiner, and Bertolt all turned to face him. "Jean?" Marco asked, blinking. "What are you doing here?"

Jean cursed under his breath as he raced over to his friend. "Stopping you from doing something stupid," he said. "What about that call made you think this was a good idea? Ymir-"

"Did she call you as well?" Reiner asked. His expression was a combination of stony, frustrated, disappointed, and angry. It was a little odd, but far from the highest priority at the moment.

"Yeah," Jean said as he stepped over to Marco's side. He and everyone else looked uninjured - good. Ymir must not have been able to try anything yet. "She tried to feed me some nonsense about you two being vampires."

Bertolt groaned and shook his head. "Reiner, if she told Jean and Marco..."

"She probably told everyone," Reiner finished.

"So?" Jean asked, scowling. "It's not like any of us would believe her. The important thing is making sure that she isn't able to do anything serious."

"Yeah!" Marco added. "I mean - I'm still kinda... struggling to wrap my head around this, and that all this is real, but... just because you guys are vampires-"

Jean snapped his head around to stare at Marco. "Wait, what?"

Reiner sighed heavily.

There was only one short moment between that sigh and Reiner starting to speak. However, that moment was enough for Jean's innards to freeze up with a whole new sort of cold.

Maybe he should have given Ymir some credit after all.

"You see, Jean," Reiner began, a whisper of regret staining his voice, "Ymir wasn't lying."

"Maybe not completely," Marco said, oblivious to how Jean's heart was sinking in his chest. Oh, he was definitely nervous - the sweat beginning to form on his face and anxious strain to his smile said that much. But he also sounded like he sincerely believed what he was saying.

Because he didn't know what being a vampire meant. But then again, neither did Jean, now that he thought about it. He knew that they were blood-sucking monsters, but... maybe that wasn't everything. The Reiner and Bertolt that he knew were good people. Marco was a naive goody-two-shoes, but maybe there was some merit to what he was trying to say.

In the time that it took for Jean to go through that train of thought, Marco continued speaking. "But just because you're vampires doesn't mean you have to be killers!"

A shadowed look fell over Bertolt's face, while Reiner just frowned. Jean felt his stomach twist, and Marco's smile twitched fractionally.

Yet he didn't give up.

"A-and even if you are," Marco stammered, "this could be an opportunity to turn over a new leaf! I mean, is there any rule saying that you can't be good? What's stopping you?"

Bertolt bit his lower lip. "It doesn't..." Reiner gave him a heavy look as he trailed off, and he took in a deep breath before finishing, "it doesn't work that way."

"Why not!?" Jean demanded. The words felt like they were shards of glass forcing their way out of his throat and his heart was all but ready to burst out of his chest. He knew that he should turn and run. If Bertolt and Reiner really were vampires, he had to turn around and run if he wanted to get out alive.

But his friends needed him. Marco for sure, and maybe, if he wasn't being a complete moron, Bertolt and Reiner as well.

Jean should have turned around and run away. Instead, he stepped in front of Marco and held his arms out. "Why can't you be good? Vampires might not be the same as humans mentally and emotionally or whatever, but you have free will, don't you? And we're friends, aren't we? So why does this have to mean anything? Even if..." Jean swallowed and tried not to think too heavily on the horrible implications of what he was saying, of what Ymir had said, even as he forced himself to acknowledge their existence. "Even if you've done horrible things, I'm sure the others would be willing to give you another chance if you're willing to atone and try to do good now."

"He's right!" Marco chimed in, stepping forward and around Jean. "I-it might not mean much, but I would vouch for you."

Bertolt faltered. Beside him, Reiner closed his eyes, just for a moment.

When he opened them, all of their usual warmth had been replaced with ice. "Enough of this."

"Reiner-"

"No, Bertolt. They know now. Ackerman knows. We need to show them that we mean business."

Jean was moving before he even finished speaking. He grabbed Marco's arm and tried to drag him toward the mouth of the alley. However, his friend fought back and remained rooted to the spot. Both of them spoke at once.

"H-hey, let not do anything hasty-"

"-Marco, we need to go now-"

Meanwhile, Reiner jerked his head toward Jean and said, "hold him back."

Then Reiner twitched, his gaze jerking off to the side for a moment.

Bertolt didn't seem to notice. He didn't hesitate in closing the distance between himself and Jean and, with far more strength than any human should - could - have, tugged him away from Marco, and pinned his arms behind his back. Jean flailed and yelled wordlessly, but was unable to break out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry," Bertolt whispered. "We were only after Mikasa, you weren't supposed to be - this wasn't part of the plan."

"If you're sorry, then why don't you do something!? " Jean shouted.

Meanwhile, Reiner was approaching Marco. He looked steady, unstoppable - aside from how he kept looking over to the side every few seconds. At the same time, Marco took one, two, three steps away, until his back was pinned to the wall. 

Reiner's sudden twitchiness did nothing to soothe him. "Don't do this," he pleaded. "Reiner, please, we're friends, don't-"

"What's going on?"

All four of them froze. Despite his need to keep his eyes on Marco, Jean's eyes momentarily darted toward the opening of the alleyway. There stood Annie Leonhardt. She was beaten and bloody. At just a quick glance, he noticed that her shoulder was positioned oddly and there was a gruesome cut on her leg. Even so, for one bright, shining moment, he felt something that almost felt like hope. For a moment, he wanted to call out to her for help.

Then he remembered Ymir's call.

"Annie!" Marco called out, still hopeful where Jean could feel despair lapping at his heels. "Th-there's been some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe you could-"

"Ymir knows about us," Reiner interrupted, making Jean's eyes snap back to him. Where Jean, Marco, and Bertolt had all paused to look at Annie, he had gotten ahold of himself and re-focused his attention on Marco. A predator fixated on its prey. "She told everyone."

"Mikasa knows too," Annie said, voice empty. "She got away."

Reiner's expression darkened. "She got away, or you let her go?"

No sooner had he spoken than a twitch ran through his jaw. But of course, with all that was going on, Annie didn't notice it. It looked like she was going to say something, but she never got the chance.

"She should let Mikasa go!" Jean exclaimed. "Annie, you're a slayer! You can't do this. You're supposed to be a hero. "

Meanwhile, Reiner grabbed Marco by the shoulder and pulled them both around to face Annie. "I think you've gotten too attached," he said. As soon as he spoke, he visibly tightened his grip on Marco's shoulder, jaw clenching a little tighter yet.

Annie scowled. "No! I just-"

"None of you are too attached!" Marco pleaded. "We're friends! Annie, Reiner, please- "

"Reiner," Jean hissed. "Annie. Bertolt." The vampire holding him swallowed audibly, but made no move to cut Jean off, nor did he try to join the current cacophony of voices. "Listen to me. If you do this, I swear to god, you will- "

"Shut up, Eren!" Reiner snapped.

Silence fell over the group. Or rather, everyone aside from Reiner, who went on to murmur, a hint of intermingled exhaustion and agitation creeping into his voice, "I'm not going to regret anything."

Jean stared. Marco didn't dare move, but he could make out the confusion on his face. Annie's expression morphed into a frown.

"Reiner," Bertolt whispered, "who's Eren?"

Reiner raised the hand that wasn't clutching onto Marco to scrub at the side of his face. "No one," he said. "Let's just get this over with."

He lowered his hand and pushed Marco into Annie's arms. "Kill him."

Annie grabbed onto Marco, whose expression had settled firmly into one of horror.

"Annie, please," he begged, "we can still talk this out, we can-"

"Annie!" Jean howled. "If you do this, you'll-"

"Annie has a soul," Bertolt called out, voice pitched loud enough to cut through the din.

Reiner raised an eyebrow at Bertolt. "So?"

" Look at her," Bertolt pressed.

So Jean looked. He saw that Annie's eyes were wide and her face was pale. She looked pained, but that could very well be because of her injuries.

Perhaps it was because he wasn't as kind as Marco, but to him, she just looked like a murderer in the making. Nonetheless, Bertolt pressed on.

"There are other ways for her to prove her loyalty, but you need to remember that she isn't like us, Reiner. You're asking her to kill a friend. That sort of thing-"

"Right," Reiner said, letting out a mirthless laugh. "We have to look out for the slayer's precious soul."

Reiner wrenched Marco out of Annie's grasp and snapped his neck.

Nobody had time to do anything. Nobody even had time to react. One second Marco was standing there, terrified but alive, and the next his lifeless body was falling to the ground. It was the sort of thing that was impossible to witness without receiving a permanent scar on your soul.

But vampires didn't have souls to scar, and as he stared down at Marco's body, Reiner's expression was utterly impassive.

"Annie," he said, voice empty save for a faint hint of irritation. "Someone will need to dispose of the body. Do you think you can handle that, at least?"

"Once I get the arrow out of my shoulder," she said. Her voice was choked up. If Jean didn't know better, he might suspect that he would see tears in her eyes if he looked at her. But he didn't. He wasn't able to look at anything but Marco's body.

"I'll help," Bertolt offered.

"Not yet," Reiner said. "We aren't done here."

With that, he approached Jean, eyes dark and heavy. Jean met his gaze with his own, eyes promising vengeance, for all that he knew that his death was probably upon him.

Yet when Reiner opened his mouth, it was to say, "now that you know we're serious... Jean. Because we're friends, I'm going to let you live. And if you, Sasha, and Connie stay out of the way, none of you will be hurt."

Faintly, Jean heard Annie murmur, "hypocrite." He couldn't tell if Reiner caught it, as his eyes remained fixed on Jean, waiting for his answer.

A smart person would have agreed. A selfish person would have agreed. If you asked Jean prior to that moment, he would have expected himself to agree.

Instead, he looked Reiner in the eyes and said, "we won't. Reiner, if you let me live, I promise that you will regret it."

Reiner gave a thin smile. "Good thing I'm willing to take that bet."

He stepped away and collected Marco's body in his arms. For a moment, it looked like he would pass it - him - to Annie, but he hesitated upon getting a closer look at her arm. With a sigh, he called, "Bertolt?"

"I really am sorry," Bertolt murmured before letting go of Jean and stepping away.

Jean wanted to charge at Marco's murderers. To fight for his body so that he would at least get a proper burial. To avenge his death. Instead, without Bertolt to support him, his legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

"Think about my offer," Reiner called.

With that, the trio left the alleyway, taking Marco's corpse with them.

And Jean was alone.

Chapter Text

Erwin looked at the individuals gathered in his living room and, just for a moment, allowed himself to feel totally out of his depth. 

Levi was standing against a wall, arms crossed, watching everyone with an inscrutable expression. Preparing himself for the battles ahead, for he had seen too much to even momentarily delude himself into thinking that what was coming may be easy. 

Hanji was seated in the center of the sofa talking a mile a minute. It was the same subject that they had been talking about for the past hour. The Gem of Amara. Its abilities, its history, the tales surrounding it - they had been speaking ever since Jean mentioned that Ymir said that Reiner had a gem that allowed him to walk in the sunlight. Part of it was genuine passion. Part of it, Erwin suspected, was an attempt to distract the students from the weight of the betrayal they were facing. He couldn't help but notice that they had said little about the vampire who supposedly possessed the gem.

Their efforts yielded mixed results, and no outright success. Armin was listening intently to what they said, but there was no missing the troubled look in his eyes. Sasha was trying her best to keep up, but kept sending glances at Connie, who looked caught between forced optimism and a total breakdown. 

Jean's appearance was about what you would expect of someone who had just seen his best friend murdered by people they had trusted. His hair was messy, his eyes were red-rimmed, and he was staring into the middle distance, waiting for the world to produce something that could break through his shell. Erwin knew that he could probably get through to the boy if he tried. The trouble was that it would be cruel to try. 

Oh, he would need to be cruel soon enough. These were circumstances that didn't allow the opportunity for one to sit around and wallow in their emotions. That would come later though, after Mikasa arrived and they were all present to come up with a plan. For now, he would simply allow him some time to grieve.

Betrayal was truly one of the worst forms of loss one could suffer, and although he knew that he could find the words to keep everyone fighting if necessary, there was nothing he could do that would truly lessen the sting. And that drove him to allow himself a moment of sad, fragile weakness. 

The moment passed with a knock on the door. Erwin pulled himself back together and went to answer it. 

Jean had already told him that Mikasa had an encounter with Annie. The look in his slayer's eyes when he opened the door told her that it had gone exceptionally badly. Mikasa was not an easy young woman to read, even for him. Yet there was absolutely no missing the hollow look in her eyes. It was like someone had reached into her heart and torn a portion of it out.

Erwin stepped back to allow her into his house. Mikasa hesitated. "Do you have any new information?"

"I'm afraid not," Erwin said. "I already told you everything Mr. Kirstein told me, and I thought it best for us to come up with a plan with all of us present."

Mikasa nodded, swallowing. "Right," she murmured. With that, she stepped into his house, and her odd, slightly unsteady gait immediately told him about the other thing that was wrong.

"You're injured," Erwin observed. If it was bothering her seriously enough for him to notice immediately, it couldn't be a minor injury either. Yet she had made no mention of it over the phone.

Just like she hadn't told him that she had died until Annie had already made her presence known.

Mikasa paused in the hallway and glanced down at her stomach. "It's no-"

Erwin cut her off by placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. "Mikasa."

Slowly, his slayer dragged her gaze up to meet his. That hollow look was still in there, as were strands of exhaustion and heartbreak. As the seconds ticked by, a shade of weariness appeared as well.

She already knew what was going to happen next. It almost made Erwin want to step back. But he couldn't. If the last few weeks had taught him anything, it was that taking a hands-off approach and waiting for this slayer to come to him would not work. He could not let her find her own pace and expect it to end in another other than her pushing herself until she broke. She wasn't...

She was her own person. That meant that he had to focus on the reaper hanging over her, not one that had already claimed its victim.

"You should have told me you were injured," he said, voice calm but unyielding.

Mikasa looked him dead in the eyes. "It wouldn't have changed anything," she said.

"It would have," Erwin replied. "Levi or I would have come get you, and I would have known that I would need to account for your injuries sooner."

Mikasa pursed her lips. There was still no spark in her eyes, but considering the circumstances, he considered the fact that he was getting even that much of a reaction to be a good sign. If only it weren't such a small one. "I can still fight."

"I'm sure you can," Erwin said. "But it still puts you at a disadvantage. If we wait until you have at least begun to recover, you will have better odds of success during your next encounter."

"Annie's injured as well." If it were at all possible, he would say that her voice managed to sound a little emptier with that line.

"Then she and her friends won't be rushing into another encounter either, which means that you can afford to spend a few days healing."

Oh, what a familiar conversation this was. They had been making such good progress in getting Mikasa to take care of herself. How ironic it was that Annie Leonhart, the very woman who had provided Mikasa with the security needed to begin looking after herself, was now responsible for this regression.

Mikasa broke free of his gaze to glance down at her feet. "Alright," she murmured. "But I won't wait for too long."

"I don't expect you to," Erwin said. "But Mikasa, I'm afraid that we will need to have a more in-depth conversation later."

"Yeah." She didn't look up, instead allowing her gaze to remain rooted to her feet. "I expected that."

Erwin nodded slowly. Was her anticipation a sign that she might be more willing to work with him from here on out, he wondered, or was it merely a result of exhaustion? He did not know. However, as he surveyed the fractured young woman, he found himself hoping that it was the former. For both of their sakes.

"That is later though," he finally continued. "For now, I believe we have left the others waiting for long enough."

With that, he extended his arm down the hallway, inviting Mikasa to lead the way.

Mikasa took in a deep breath, straightened her shoulder, and stood a little straighter. He watched as she pushed down the painful look in her eyes and hid it behind something hard and cold. It took visible effort, but by the time she started moving, she looked as solid and unbreakable as ever, if one missed the odd note to her gait that hinted at her injury.

As they walked into his living room, Erwin didn't look at Mikasa, but his friends. Would they see through her act? The immediate concern that shot across Armin's face told her that he did. Sasha's initial expression was also one of concern, but the relief that promptly blossomed across her face told him that she had bought it hook, line, and sinker. Connie's reaction was similar, although most of his attention remained focused on Jean, who barely reacted to Mikasa's entry at all.

Erwin glanced at Hanji, who met Erwin's gaze and frowned. Of course, they didn't buy Mikasa's unbothered act for a second. They knew Levi wouldn't be fooled so easily. Levi had his own gaze locked on the slayer, expression steely in a way that Erwin knew meant he was deep in thought.

"Jean, I'm so sorry," Mikasa said. Just like that, her facade was broken. For all that her expression was close to unreadable, she could not hide the faint hitch in her voice.

"It's not your fault," Jean said. "It was Reiner."

Mikasa's expression shifted subtly - a minute downward twist of her lips and narrowing of her eyes. She didn't believe him for a second.

"Mikasa, you should sit down," Erwin urged.

Her gaze darted over to him, hesitant. He frowned, wondering if she was really going to fight him on this. However, after a few moments, she walked over to a small armchair and took a seat. To her credit, she came very close to completely masking her wince.

"I thought you said that Bertolt and Annie were there too?" Hanji remarked, turning their gaze over to Jean.

"Yeah, but it's... it's their fault too. But Annie showed up at the end, and if it was just Bertolt, I think Marco might have gotten out alive." Jean paused, expression darkening. "They're all murderers, but Reiner is the one who killed Marco."

"Are you sure?" Connie asked.

Jean glared at Connie. The expression was flat and empty of any true malice, but it still managed to make Connie recoil.

"Sorry," Connie murmured. "It's just... Reiner, he..."

"He's always been so nice!" Sasha exclaimed.

"It doesn't matter," Mikasa said. "He's a vampire. Vampires lie."

"Ymir didn't," Jean murmured.

The group fell silent for a moment, presumably caught off-guard by Jean's remark.

Armin was the first to speak up. "Th-that's right," he stammered. "We all got calls from her, right? She tried to warn us."

"You all got calls from her," Levi grumbled. "She didn't bother contacting anyone who actually knows what they're doing."

"I mean, can you blame the vampire for not contacting a pair of watchers and one of the most ruthless demon hunters in the country?" Hanji asked.

Levi scowled, but let them have their point.

"She still tried to do something to stop those bastards," Jean said.

"Are you saying you think she could be an ally?" Armin asked.

"I'm saying that I'm not going to let vampires off the hook with just 'vampires lie'," Jean said.

"I'm not letting them off the hook," Mikasa said. "I'm saying that it doesn't matter how nice Reiner pretended to be. Vampires are evil - that's all there is to it. Ymir had an ulterior motive. She warned us because she didn't want Reiner to kill her pet."

"I don't know," Sasha began, voice hesitant and uneasy, but not entirely without conviction. "In the call I got, she sounded like she really cares about Krista."

"She's a vampire," Mikasa repeated. "Vampires don't care about people. She's using her."

"Eeeh," Hanji said, holding up a hand and doing a back and forth motion. "It's a little more complicated than that, actually."

"How?" Mikasa asked, the weight of betrayal breaking through her mask to glimmer angrily in her eyes. "Vampires are soulless monsters. How is it more complicated than that?" 

"Someone without a soul is someone without a conscience," Hanji said. The usual spark their voice held when explaining something was present, but dulled, weighed down by the gravity of what they were saying and why they had to say it. Erwin felt sorry for them having to be the one to explain. However, as he doubted that he could cut to the heart of the matter half as well as they could, he stood back and let them speak. "They are also incapable of feeling guilt, genuine remorse, or selfless love."

"So they can't love at all?" Connie asked, his expression caught somewhere between sorrow and horror.

His question sent a ripple of reactions throughout the room. Sasha's expression was close to Connie's, but a little less horrified and a little sadder. Jean looked angry, but thoughtful, like there was something preventing him from reaching the conclusion that he wanted to come to. If Erwin had to guess, he would say that he was probably thinking about Ymir and where her behavior didn't quite line up with the image of a loveless monster. Armin was void of anger and horror, his countenance instead settling on morose but thoughtful. His gaze was locked on Hanji, save for when he shot concerned glances at Mikasa.

The anger had not left Mikasa. Instead, it had seeped into her stony expression, crafting the perfect image of someone who was set in their mind and didn't want to consider anything different.

As Erwin watched her, he found himself hoping that mindset wouldn't cause any problems with Ymir. He could understand why she might be hesitant to work with a vampire, and they still didn't know enough for him to advise approaching her outright, but... depending on how things played out, he did not want to discount her as a potential asset.

He was getting ahead of himself though. There were too many unknowns in their current situation. For now, they had to share information and decide on their next course of action.

Which meant making sure that these young people, still reeling from the betrayal of people they'd considered friends, understood what being a vampire actually meant.

Hanji offered Connie a sad smile. "I'm getting there.

"Beyond the lack of a soul, vampires also have a natural bloodlust thanks to their demonic nature. The exact amount varies from vampire to vampire, but with no soul to hold them back, how much they act on it depends almost entirely on their levels of restraint and recklessness. Quite frankly, most vampires are reckless with high levels of bloodlust and low levels of self-control. They act on whatever dark impulses they have, kill whoever they want, and generally do something to get them killed before they can even reach a hundred years old. Those are the ones the slayer kills on a routine basis. They're also your typical minions, when a vampire or other demonic being with the strength, intelligence, and willpower to corral them rolls around.

"The really dangerous vampires are the ones with high levels of bloodlust and high levels of self-control. They tend to be smarter and less reckless, which means they stick around for a lot longer. Their style isn't the random slaughter of their lesser brethren, but acts of true sadism and horror. Some of them, the especially sadistic, will choose a specific victim and keep them alive as they torment them by killing their friends and loved ones. The ones with an ego will form cult-like groups with them as a leader. Others seek challenges, such as actively hunting slayers. And some, the ambitious ones, will put plans into motion to cause bloodshed on a much more grand scale. A slayer will generally only face a few of these vampires in their lifetime - assuming that she survives long enough to come up against one at all, but they are significant threats.

"Everyone got that?"

Hanji's question was met by a series of shell-shocked nods. However, before they could begin speaking again, Jean let out a small, empty laugh.

"I don't see how any of this is very complicated," he said. "So Ymir was just... what? Helping us as a way to fuck with us later?"

Hanji leaned forward, elbows on their knees, and rested their chin on top of their steepled fingers. "Honestly? I don't think so. The reason it's complicated is because it's rare, but there are outliers.

"First are the vampires who don't have high levels of bloodlust. Sometimes it's more of a moderate thing rather than a prominent urge, but once every several thousand vampires or so, you'll get one that barely feels any at all. Admittedly, they're often prodded into being minions of some sort, since they tend not to be very willful or aggressive either, but... when left to their own devices, they're mostly content to just keep to themselves and the people they care about without getting into trouble."

"The people they care about," Jean repeated. At a glance, his voice was flat with disbelief, but Erwin thought he caught a bit of curiosity in there.

"Yep," Hanji said. "Like I said, vampires are incapable of selfless love. But selfish love? Entirely within the realm of possibility. Vampires as a whole tend toward hedonism - they'll put their own impulses and desires before everything else. But once in a blue moon, you'll get a vampire who enjoys someone else's company enough that their continued health and well-being becomes a priority of theirs. Of course, most of the time this just extends to other vampires or a human that they take a liking to and go on to turn. But sometimes..."

Hanji sat back up, gnawing on their lower lip as they tried to find the right way to explain the concept they were reaching for. After a few long moments, they slowly began, "vampires don't retain their human soul, but they do keep the memories of their human life. For most vampires, this doesn't mean much. But some are more sentimental than others. There have been records of vampires who continued to care about human loved ones and never turned them because they were aware of the risk that the resulting vampire would be drastically different from the human they turned. That sentimentality could carry over to people that they meet later in their unlife, if they grow close enough to them. Others didn't just because the person didn't want to be turned and they respected their wishes.

"Assuming that she lacks bloodlust, has a high level of self-control, or some variation thereof, is entirely possible that Ymir loves Krista enough that she wouldn't hurt her and would intervene if a threat showed itself. And if they're close enough, if Krista were to ask her not to kill, she probably wouldn't. It isn't selfless love, but it's as close as a vampire can get. And considering her strength, it actually means that Krista is probably one of the safest people in Paradis right now."

The group lapsed into silence as everyone absorbed it.

"What about Reiner and Bertolt?" Armin eventually asked, his voice slow and measured. "Where do you think they fall on the scale?"

Jean's face contorted into a scowl. However, Mikasa beat him to the punch before he could get a word out. "It doesn't matter. They've made it clear that they're the enemy. Annie, too."

Armin frowned. "But-"

"She's right," Levi cut in, earning him a surprised look from Mikasa. "We can psychoanalyze them to hell and back, but none of it will change a thing if they're here to kill the slayer."

"They aren't coming after me randomly," Mikasa said. "Ymir called them pawns for something called the Tybur Group."

Erwin felt like all of the air fled the room at once. A glance at Levi revealed that he had gone stiff, his expression a perfect impassive mask. Readying himself. Meanwhile, Hanji's hands clenched into fists by their side. "I'm sorry," they said, voice a cheerful mask to hide the tension that couldn't quite hide the tension beneath it. "I'm not sure I heard you right. Did you say that the Tybur Group sent them?"

"That's what Ymir said," Mikasa replied.

Erwin took in a deep breath. Exhaled. "That is bad news," he said, voice very carefully even.

Levi snorted. "No shit. I thought those bastards were destroyed?"

"Apparently not," Hanji said. Their voice wavered in a way that sounded like they were excited or on the verge of laughter. Erwin knew that it was nothing of the sort. "If they've got Leonhardt with them, I'd venture to guess that they're probably doing better than ever."

"Mind letting the rest of us in on the story here?" Jean cut in. His voice was almost deadpan. Try as he might, he couldn't quite erase the hint of nervousness.

Erwin looked over at Hanji. "May I?" he asked.

"By all means. You're the history buff here," they said, offering him a smile that didn't quite hide their nervousness. They stood up and walked over to stand by Levi, who leaned over to whisper in their ear.

Erwin chuckled, just to help dissipate some of the tension. It was important that everyone understood that what was happening was serious, but he didn't want to risk working one of the individuals who were less familiar with the supernatural into a panic. "You give me too much credit," he said. As he spoke, he sat down in Hanji's abandoned chair, so as to seem more approachable to the group at large. Not that it was likely to do anything to help with what he was about to say.

"There was a time when the Tybur family was very involved in the Watcher's Council. That all changed when one of their daughters, Lara, was turned. Afterward, she approached her two brothers, Willy and Helos. And although Willy remained loyal to the Council, Helos was convinced to join her. Helos was a powerful sorcerer who boosted Lara's abilities while extending his own lifespan, and together, the two created the Tybur Group.

"The Tybur Group claimed to have a vision for a world where humans and the supernatural lived together peacefully under one all-powerful authority. Humans would donate blood to vampires and pay a tithe for protection from monsters that did not fall in line with their regime. Vampires and other demons would avoid preying on humans and pay a tithe for protection from the slayer and other demon hunters."

"What kind of tithe?" Connie asked, voice shaking.

"Money, of course," Hanji chimed in. "It was demonic capitalism at its greatest."

"And what would happen to the people who didn't pay?"

"Well, I did just say it was capitalism," Hanji said.

Erwin smiled grimly. "Those who couldn't pay and had no other way to make themselves useful, refused to comply with the regime, or couldn't comply with the regime would be executed."

"That doesn't sound like it would be good for humans or the supernatural community," Armin murmured.

"It wasn't," Erwin agreed. "But it had the potential to be very advantageous to the rich and powerful, which allowed them to make connections quickly. The Tybur Group itself consisted primarily of vampires, witches, and young humans who would be turned once they reached their physical prime."

"Children," Mikasa said. "You mean children."

Erwin paused. While it was unpleasant to outright say that the Tybur Group employed child soldiers, there was no denying the truth of the matter. "Yes," he said. "They found it easier to install loyalty if they got started from a young age. And because their plan hinged on having the slayer on their side, they also began collecting young potential slayers."

"Potential slayers?" Armin questioned. 

"Exactly what it sounds like," Hanji said. "Girls who have the potential to be called as the slayer after the previous one dies. Most of them are detected by the council and trained so that they're prepared if they're called. But they can't find them all, and sometimes one slips through the cracks." Hanji's eyes slid over to Mikasa. 

Levi scoffed. 

"Tybur managed to collect a good deal of potentials before the council could find them," Erwin said, pulling the conversation back on track. "We were lucky that none of their potentials were activated."

"Until now," Jean muttered. 

"Until now," Hanji agreed. 

"We thought that the Tybur Group was destroyed in the early nineteen hundreds," Erwin explained. "One of Willy's descendants killed Lara and Helos, and it was believed that the group dissolved from there. My best guess is that a power vacuum formed instead. A high-ranking member took over from Lara and Helos, pulled the remnants of the organization together, and has quietly kept it running this whole time."

"How powerful would they be now?" Mikasa asked. 

Erwin frowned. "I don't know. There are too many unknown factors. But we cannot afford to underestimate them. Even if they just got lucky with Annie, she alone gives them a large advantage."

Mikasa nodded. The spark in her eyes faded out again as she shut her emotions down to say, "then I need to kill Annie."

Hanji frowned. "The council-" 

"-can't be involved in this," Levi cut in, voice like ice. Hanji shot him a long look, but he remained entirely unwavering. 

"Levi's right," Erwin admitted. "When the Tybur Group was at the height of their power, it was theorized that there may have been a mole in the council. We don't know how many of their old connections they maintained, but it's not a risk that we can take."

"Not to mention how badly they'd fuck up with a rogue slayer," Levi grumbled. Erwin chose not to acknowledge it. An easy decision, considering what Levi went on to say next. "I could call my team for backup."

"Are you sure?" Erwin asked. 

"They'd want to help," came Levi's easy, almost bored, response. He turned his attention to Mikasa then, who had opened her mouth, doubtlessly to protest. "I can tell that you're injured, and one of Leonhart’s cronies has the Gem of Amara. We can't risk your life for the sake of your pride, and your friends are all greenhorns at best. My people are experienced demon hunters. Turning them away would make you an idiot at best."

"Fine," Mikasa growled, looking away. A moment passed, then she turned her gaze to Erwin. 

"What do I do about Annie in the meantime?" 

"Nothing," Erwin instructed. "It shouldn't take more than two days for Levi's team to get here. Wait for them and take the time to heal. Once they are here, we will work with them and Levi to come up with a plan of attack."

Mikasa frowned. That frown faltered as she slowly glanced around the room, taking in all of the concerned looks aimed at her. Her gaze caught on Armin for a moment before she said, "alright. I'll wait."

Erwin offered her a small smile. "Thank you." He couldn’t tell if it meant anything to her, but he kept his gaze on her for several heartbeats, just to make sure she saw. 

He made sure to keep his expression warm and welcoming as he finally turned his attention to the group at large. “Considering the day's events, I think it would be safer if we all stay here for the night," Erwin said.

"Are you sure?" Armin asked. "I-I don't want to impose."

Erwin smiled. "It's not an imposition, but the safest option. Besides, I have plenty of room."

It was true. His house, funded by the Watcher's Council, was large enough as to come dangerously close to being suspicious for a community college professor to own. He was fairly certain that the assumption made by those few of his colleagues who knew where he lived was that he came from a family with money.

"It’ll be like a slumber party," Sasha said, trying desperately to infuse joy into a voice that sounded like it was going to fracture under the weight of the day. "Doesn't that sound like fun, Mikasa?"

Mikasa shot her friend a bleary glance. "Yeah. Fun."

Hanji stepped away from their spot beside Levi and clapped their hands together. "Alright!" they said. "Why don't Levi, Erwin, and I take care of sleeping arrangements while you all get settled in."

Erwin hid his surprised expression beneath a nod.

"Are you sure?" Armin asked again. "I can help if you li-"

"It's fine, Armin," Erwin assured. "You kids have been through a lot today. Let us take care of this."

Armin nodded hesitantly. Erwin returned it with an appreciative look before standing up to walk out of the room, Levi and Hanji following closely behind.

"Kids?" Levi grumbled once they were out of earshot. "They're all over eighteen."

"And the oldest of them is no more than twenty," Erwin pointed out. "They're in a transitionary phase. And with their level of life experience? Compared to us? It's perfectly appropriate for me to call them kids."

"Not for long."

"Unfortunately."

It was incredibly difficult to preserve the nativity and innocence of youth once the supernatural world got involved. Mikasa was a testament to that. Only nineteen years old, yet she had already seen more horrors than most would in their entire lives, and every bit of it weighed on her.

There was nothing to be done for it right now. As much as he liked to daydream, odds were that there would never be anything that could be done to change the harsh realities that surrounded the slayer. Even if there was, he currently wasn't in a position to make any significant changes. All he could do was focus on his slayer and the battles at hand.

Battles that he knew were weighing heavily on his comrade's minds - one in particular.

Erwin came to a stop in front of the linen closet. Rather than moving to open it, he turned to look at Hanji. "There's something you wanted to tell me," he guessed.

"It might not be anything relevant," Hanji warned.

"Relevant enough for you to pester us about it," Levi grumbled.

Hanji grinned. "Aww, but I pester you about irrelevant stuff all the time, Levi!"

Levi rolled his eyes. Erwin felt his lips twitch into a slight smile at the interaction - the first genuine one of the night. It faded when Hanji looked back at him, their expression fading into something more serious.

"It's about Reiner," they said. "Levi and Mikasa are right that we can't afford to make it a high priority but his behavior..." they trailed off, frustration showing on their face.

Erwin nodded, immediately understanding what they were getting at even without them saying it outright. "You're right," he said. "His hunting patterns are incongruous with his other behavior."

"More than incongruous!" Hanji exclaimed. "Even when they have high levels of self-control, vampires violent enough to go on random killing sprees don't befriend random humans. I doubt it was just for the mission either. You said that he saved Jean, Sasha, and Connie, but nothing of significance would have been gained by him doing that. Annie was doing a good enough job of getting close to Mikasa on her own. He did it because he liked them."

"Isn't it obvious?" Levi asked, crossing his arms. "He's killing because he wants to look more vicious than he is. Like some kid pretending they're big shit."

"But why ?" Hanji pressed. "This is a delicate mission, and historically, the Tybur Group isn't very forgiving. They might not have assigned him to it if they thought he was too much of a loose cannon, and his killing could have - no - it did get them all caught! So why risk it?"

"Maybe he's just a moron," Levi muttered.

"Maybe," Erwin mused, "but it's also possible that there was a difference between how he presented himself in front of Tybur and the humans he befriended."

He could feel the gears turning in his head as he spoke, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The looks he received from Hanji and Levi told him that they could sense it as well.

"Oh?" Hanji prompted when he took a moment too long to continue.

"It's like you said, Tybur is known for being unforgiving and utilizing every resource they can get their hands on," Erwin slowly said, double-checking his ideas seconds before speaking. "Putting an act of being violent and impulsive is risky in terms of the mission, but it's also likely to make them underestimate his true ability to care. Which would make it easier if he needed to hide something from them."

"Or someone," Hanji breathed. "You don't think...?"

Erwin shook his head. "We can't safely extrapolate more without knowing more about his personal history," he said. "I could do some research, but keep in mind that Reiner is an actively predatory vampire in possession of the Gem of Amara. We may be able to spare the slayer, but odds are that we will have no choice but to eliminate him."

Hanji smiled morbidly. "Trust me, I know. I'm not suggesting that we spare him or anything. I just..." Hanji sighed, leaning against the wall. "I just wish I could properly study him before killing him."

"Well, you can't," Levi said, voice flat. "Now, are we going to get the brats set up or what?"

Erwin resisted the turn to chuckle as he turned around to open the linen closet. "Brats, Levi?"

"'Kid' is an age, but brat is a state of mind," Levi said, unbothered. "What you have in your living room is a mob of brats."

*

Two days passed. Two days of listening to wiretaps while they anxiously waited for Annie to heal enough to safely engage in combat.

Safe. What a laughable concept. Annie was a slayer - even with Tybur supporting her, she would never be safe, even if she wasn't on a mission to kill another slayer. She had wanted to go after Mikasa that night and get it over with. However, Bertolt made a big fuss about how her health and well-being was more important than the advantage posed by Mikasa's injury. Another laughable concept. Even if Bertolt himself cared about her to some degree, Tybur never truly would, and they were the ones who mattered.

She had been outvoted though. Reiner agreed with Bertolt. Not because he was truly worried about Annie - he never fussed about her quite the way Bertolt did. It was one of the few things she appreciated about him, that beyond some surface-level friendliness, he never acted like he cared about her more than the mission. Reiner hesitation was strictly practical, or so he claimed. His argument was that taking some time to allow Annie to at least partially heal would also give them time to plan. He was right, but Annie couldn't shake the suspicion that there was something more to it.

She didn't call him out on it. All it would do was start an argument that neither of them would be able to win.

Two days wasn't very long in the grand scheme of things, but with a slayer's healing, it meant that she had recovered enough to push her way through any lingering pain from her injuries. It meant that she could fight.

It meant that she could kill.

She, Bertolt, and Reiner were gathered around the kitchen island, the recorder that had been tracking the phone calls of Mikasa's group placed before them. The cheerful but serious voice of a young woman flowed from the speakers. "Hey, Levi. I just wanted to let you know that we'll be getting in at around ten or eleven. There was a small delay up in Phoenix, but we're on the I-94 now and-"

Annie tuned out the woman's voice out as she went on to chatter about the trip. Her gaze flickered over to Bertolt, who was studiously writing the information down. She watched him for a moment before looking over at Reiner, whose gaze flicked over to meet hers.

"If they're Levi's friends, they'll mean trouble," he said.

"I know," Annie murmured.

"We'll have to take them out as soon as possible, then, before they have a chance to interfere." Reiner paused, eyes narrowing at Annie. "I guess I'll be the one to do it?" he asked, a hint of derision making its way into his tone. "After all, they're human. This isn't the sort of thing we'd want to burden the slayer with."

Bertolt looked up from his writing, a frown on his face. "Reiner, that's not f-"

"No," Annie said, looking Reiner in the eyes. She clenched her jaw, pushing down the hot, aggravated feelings licking at her lungs as well as the cold, sickly ones eating at her stomach. "We're part of the same mission. I can pull my weight."

"Are you sure?" Reiner asked. "With Marco, you seemed awfully reluctant to do what needed to be done."

Annie narrowed her eyes and fought down the urge to point out how taking the time to strategize had coincidentally delayed the probable deaths of the humans that Reiner liked to play with. The ones who were bright and reactive and so much more exciting than kind, thoughtful, expendable Marco. She knew it would feel good to say it, but only for a second. Reiner was too comfortable in his hypocrisy and would find a way to win an argument over who it was that cared too much, even if it meant extending the argument beyond words.

All Annie could do was prove that she was just as willing to cast her humanity aside as he claimed to be.

"I'll take care of them," she said.

"Are you sure?" Bertolt asked. "Annie, you really don't have to-"

" Tonight," Annie said, firm and unwavering.

"Good, because Tybur doesn't have any use for a slayer who won't kill," Reiner said. 

Bertolt's expression shifted into something fraught. He glanced from Annie to Reiner, looking for either of them to waver. When he saw that neither of them would, he sighed and slowly nodded. "Alright," he said. "I was able to track some of the calls between them and Levi, and I got some license plates. If you're able to find one of these cars and get them to crash..."

"You might not even have to deal with the individual hunters," Reiner said, approving.

"It's no guarantee though," Bertolt warned. "You'll still need to be prepared."

Annie glanced down at her hands and frowned. "I'm the slayer." The best killer in the world. "I'll be fine."

Reiner nodded, stretching his arms out above him. "I think I'll do a little reconnaissance while you're doing that," he said. When Bertolt and Annie both shot him a questioning look, he added, "I want to see if Mikasa's friends are listening to me and staying out of the way."

Sure, Annie thought, Mikasa's friends.

Out loud, she asked, "why does that matter?"

"Well, they're only human, but they could still cause problems if they work together," Reiner said. He shot Bertolt a beseeching look and got a nod in return.

"You've got a point," Bertolt said. "What if they aren't? Are you planning on confronting any of them?"

Reiner waved a hand. "Eeh. I'll play it by ear."

Annie frowned. "Don't do anything that could jeopardize the mission. You've already done enough of that with your little killing spree."

"Relax," Reiner said. "It's not like you have to do anything. I can handle a few humans. Besides..." He held up his hand and wiggled the finger that was adorned with the Gem of Amara. "Even if Mikasa shows up, I'll be fine."

Annie frowned. As much as she wanted to argue, there was little she could say that would really hold weight against that. It sounded like a bunch of unnecessary dramatics were going to happen, but as long as he had that ring, Reiner was essentially free to get as dramatic as he wanted.

"What if they aren't listening? Will you kill them?" Bertolt asked.

Reiner shrugged. "Honestly? Probably not unless they attack first. We're after Mikasa - doesn't mean I have to kill all of them."

No. Just strangers and the friends who weren't worth sparing.

Marco begged.

Annie looked down and swallowed the bile threatening to rise up her throat. She didn't react when she felt Bertolt's cold hand gently squeeze her shoulder.

"Alright," he said. "It looks like we have our plan, then."

"Yeah," Annie said, shrugging his hand off and rising to her feet. "I'll head out now." There was still a solid hour until Levi's group would be entering town, but the sooner she set out, the higher the odds were that she would successfully catch Levi's friends.

After that, all she had to do was accept her role as a killer.

*

The lights in the club were bright and pulsating. It was a little dimmer by the bar, which made it easier for Jean to block the rest of the world out. It wasn't any quieter, but no amount of outside noise stood half a chance of breaking through the cacophony in his mind.

Right now, Jean Kirstein was making a reckless decision. A stupid decision. It was dangerous to go out drinking alone when a pair of vampires and a rogue slayer who had reason to target him were on the loose. However, over halfway through his third beer, Jean couldn't care less.

Not that he had particularly cared before he started drinking. He'd spent two days being cautious and listening to Erwin. Two days and he still couldn't get the image of Marco's neck snapping out of his mind. Couldn't forget the sound of the snap. The shock of the moment had begun to fade, but his grief and anger only increased.

Marco was dead. Marco was dead because he was killed by someone he'd considered a friend, and his killer had just walked away. Sure, Mikasa and the watchers were going to be going after him, but if the Gem of Amara really granted Reiner invulnerability, what were the chances that they would actually be able to do anything? What were the odds that he would face any consequences whatsoever?

Reiner didn't even feel bad about it. He couldn't.

Of course, if the professionals were unlikely to be able to do anything about Reiner, then Jean definitely didn't have a hope in hell. He knew that. It was the only reason he hadn't broken down and gone after Reiner outright when he reached a point that it became too much. Instead, he'd gone out drinking. He'd gone out drinking alone and packed a stake in his bag, because he wasn't enough of an idiot to actively charge into a fight, but if one came to him...

No fight came though. Instead, as time slipped by and Jean sat there contemplating his third beer, a stranger slipped into the chair beside him.

"Looks like you're having a rough night," he said.

Jean laughed joylessly. Rough night. What an understatement.

"Rough week?" the stranger amended.

"Something like that," Jean grumbled.

"Maybe I can do something to help."

Jean sighed. "Look, buddy, I'm not interested in..." He trailed off as he finally looked up at the stranger. He was a casually dressed young man with hazel eyes, sandy blonde hair styled into an undercut, and a green pendant with red flecks worn around his neck. Something about him sent a surge of familiarity through Jean, but any potential recognition couldn't make it past the growing wall of inebriation in his mind.

It must not have been anything important.

"I didn't think you were," the man said. "You just look like you've been dealing with some shit, and I happen to have some experience handling assholes."

Jean snorted. "Well, you aren't wrong," he murmured.

Fuck it. He wasn't willing to weigh down anyone who was actually involved in the situation, but as long as he stayed vague, what was the harm in venting to a stranger?

"I'm Jean Kirstein."

The stranger smiled and held out his hand. "Porco Galliard."

Chapter Text

Connie sat cross-legged on his bed, stared at the array of stakes laid out before him, and tried to feel something along the lines of normal. A pointless attempt. Normal was a place in Illinois, not something that he was even remotely capable of right now. After all, he'd just found out that three of his friends were...

He pushed the thought down and picked one of the stakes up to inspect it. Sharp and pointy. That was... about what a stake was supposed to be, he figured. It looked a lot like the stake that Reiner carried with him even though he was a vampire. And stakes killed vampires. 

But not Reiner, because apparently, he had some special ring that made him an unkillable vampire. An unkillable vampire that had killed Marco and was going to try and kill Mikasa and...

Connie dropped the stake onto his bed, lowered his head into his hands, and groaned. So much for not thinking about the traitors.

The sound of a window sliding open went unnoticed. However, there was no missing the slightly exasperated, "What are you doing, Connie?"

*

Annie had always imagined that everything would be sharper when she finally became a murderer. Instead, it was like she could barely feel anything at all.

*

"So," Porco pressed, "what's wrong?"

Jean sighed, unsure of where to begin. "It's... a long story."

"I have time."

*

Connie snapped his head up to find Reiner sitting on his windowsill, his expression somewhere between disappointed and amused. It wasn't too dissimilar from the face he would make when Connie made a particularly bad joke. The observation sent a pang of pain through his chest that was entirely inappropriate for the situation.

"R-Reiner," Connie stammered, jumping up and off of his bed. "I-I was just thinking about you, actually."

"I can see that," Reiner deadpanned.

"Yeah, you can. Because you're here. In my house." Connie laughed, high-pitched and nervous. "H-how are you in my house? I thought vampires had to be invited in."

Reiner raised an eyebrow. "You did invite me, remember? Two weeks ago? I came over and we played Mario Kart...?"

"That was when I thought you were human!" Connie explained.

Reiner shrugged. "Still counts. But more importantly..." The vampire stepped off the windowsill and into Connie's room properly. It made him wonder if it was supposed to be a threat or it was just because he wanted to have a conversation. He hated that he couldn't tell.

Marco wanted to have a conversation, and look how that went, a voice in the back of his head whispered.

"Did Jean pass on my message?" Reiner asked.

*

A gun would have made the job easier. Reiner and Bertolt probably would have wanted her to use a gun. But something about it felt unfair. These were seasoned demon hunters she was killing. If she was going to take them out using such underhanded methods, the least she could do was use a weapon favored by a hunter. Maybe it would even let them realize what was happening in their final moments.

As she readied the crossbow, Annie realized that she may have chosen it because it might give them a fighting chance.

How stupid. She couldn't let any of them get out of this alive. She knew that.

*

Jean ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little harder than was entirely necessary. "So there's this group my friends and I have been hanging out with. They seemed really cool at first, but then..."

Porco nodded. "Let me guess. They weren't who you thought they were?"

Jean dropped his hand to his side and clenched it into a fist. "That's an understatement."

*

Connie swallowed down the lump in his throat. It tasted like fear. Which was funny, because he hadn't realized that fear had a taste before today.

"He told us everything that you said, if that's what you mean," he said.

Reiner nodded. "Right. So you know that I'll let you live if you stay out of my way."

"We know that you said that."

"So... what are you doing right now?"

*

A large black sedan pulled onto one of the roads leading into Paradis - the one closest to Erwin's house. It wasn't a vehicle that screamed 'demon hunters', but Annie supposed that was part of the advantage of it. Plenty of room to store weapons too. There were advantages to having a more suspicious-looking vehicle.

Like tinted windows. Tinted windows may have made it difficult for her to aim. Instead, even from her perch near the top of a great pine tree situated by the road, despite the darkness of the night and the moving vehicle, she had little trouble finding her target.

Annie loosened the first bolt. It embedded itself in the driver's throat.

*

"It's not just that we trusted them, we thought they were friends. They said we were friends. But then... they..."

It was hard to get the words out. It hurt to get the words out. But when Porco nodded, there was understanding on his face. "They hurt you."

*

Connie stared. "Reiner, you can't... you can't expect us to do nothing."

Reiner frowned. "Why not? It's in your best interest."

"For real!?" Connie exclaimed. A second ago, it felt like he was going to completely freeze up with fear. But those words, those unbelievable, outrageous, thoughtlessly callous words sent a bought of something hot through him. It might have been anger. It might have been hurt. Hell, there was probably a good chance that it was hysteria. But whatever it was, it overpowered the fear and smacked his verbal filter right off. "Even if we believe you, and that's a big if, considering the whole "surprise, I'm a vampire" thing, you're killing people. You can't just expect us to stand by and let that happen!"

"But why?" Reiner pressed. "The people I killed..." He faltered. Something flashed across his face. It definitely wasn't remorse, but it didn't look too far off from frustration. "You wouldn't understand why I did it. But they don't matter."

"They don't matter," Connie repeated, the burst of energy already fading away into something numb. "Reiner... they were people."

"Yeah, but they weren't anyone important."

Connie stared at Reiner, unable to put words to the exact feeling coursing through him. It felt... like losing someone, but not quite. You at least had memories of the people you lost. This was something worse than that. "You really aren't human, are you?"

Confusion flickered across Reiner's face. "Well, no. Why else would you have the stakes?"

*

The car swerved sharply to the side, careening toward the side of the road. Through the window, she could see the man in the passenger seat desperately reaching over his comrade's corpse to grab the steering wheel. Every second counted, but Annie hadn't gone through years of training for nothing. Seconds were all she needed.

Annie fired a second bolt into his eye just before the car nose-dived into a ditch.

It flipped under the weight of the impact. Breaking glass, twisting metal, the sound of someone screaming. Smoke soon began to rise from the wreck, and Annie caught a flicker of flame through the window.

*

"Not me," Jean said. "I mean, yes, me, but- it was mostly a friend of mine who got hurt."

Hurt. It was amazing how empty that word was when paired with a far more sinister truth. How meaningless a simple hurt was when Marco was no longer breathing.

"My best friend," he ground out. "He was the kindest, most encouraging person I've ever met, and they treated him like it was nothing."

"I can relate," Porco said, anger flashing in his eyes. Maybe it was anger on Jean's behalf. Maybe it was anger for whatever he himself had gone through. Either way, it was good to see. "You must really hate the person who did this."

*

"Reiner..." There were so many words playing at the tip of Connie's tongue. He wanted to try to reach out to Reiner, even though he was starting to see that there was well and truly no point. But he couldn't say nothing. Not when... "You killed Marco. How can you say that that doesn't matter?"

"Marco mattered more than most," Reiner acquiesced, his frown reappearing. "I really didn't want to kill him. But I had to prove that we weren't messing around, and between him and Jean..."

"Marco's life mattered less than Jean's?" Connie asked, his stomach churning even as the question left his lips.

"Marco was nice, but Jean's a lot more fun," Reiner said.

Yep. Connie was definitely going to be sick at some point tonight, assuming that he survived this encounter.

"It wasn't anything personal," Reiner continued. "It's just..." He paused then, expression brightening. "Why don't you try to see things from my point of view?"

Something about the way he said it made Connie's stomach drop. Suddenly, he counted himself exceedingly lucky that his family was off visiting his annoying uncle for a few days.

The coward inside him wished he had joined them.

*

There had been four people in the car. Annie knew that both of her arrows would have killed their targets instantly. That just left two more.

However, minutes ticked by, and although a redheaded woman sporting a visibly broken arm and a bleeding head wound picked her way out of the burning wreckage, she was the only one.

The crash had done its job. Now she just had to finish it before the flames could attract attention.

*

Jean faltered. The person who did this. Logically, he knew it should be people. Bertolt and Annie had been there as well. Bertolt had held him back and Annie had watched as Marco was murdered.

Yet when Jean thought about Marco's death, it was Reiner's face that filled his vision. The one who had given the order. The one who had snapped his neck. The one who had looked him in the eyes as he begged for his life and didn't give a damn.

"I do," Jean breathed. "I do hate him."

"Tell me about him," Porco encouraged.

*

"Your point of view?" Connie questioned, even though he had a sickening feeling that he already knew what he meant.

"I'm not going to stop killing," Reiner said, taking a step forward. "And you clearly aren't going to stay out of it."

Connie grabbed a stake and took a step back.

Reiner stilled, but kept talking. "But I don't want to kill you. At least, I don't want to kill you and have you stay dead. So why not make you like me?"

"I don't want to be like you," Connie whispered.

"Why not? It's not that bad. Sure, you couldn't go in the sunlight, but I could let you borrow the gem sometimes, and-"

"It wouldn't be me!" Connie exclaimed, his voice rising with hysteria. "I'd... I'd be dying either way, Reiner!"

"It would still be you!" Reiner insisted. "A different, less human version of you, but still you. And the change isn't that bad. I mean..." Reiner smiled, the bright, warm one that he always used when he was trying to be encouraging. "I was a soft-spoken coward when I was a human, and look at me now."

Connie suddenly realized what that painful feeling haunting him amidst the fear, pain, and horror was. Grief. Pity. Sorrow for whoever Reiner had been before he was turned.

His voice dropped back into a whisper. He suddenly found that he couldn't manage anything more. "I bet you were a good person."

Reiner frowned, something in his gaze darkening. "That doesn't matter when you can't actually change anything."

With that, Reiner lunged forward.

And so did Connie.

*

Annie dropped down from the tree and approached the woman standing beside the burning car.

To her credit, she noticed her immediately. Fear shot through the pain shining on her face, yet she still maintained a certain degree of control over herself. First, her gaze flickered toward the car. When she saw how much the fire had spread, she took a few steps away from it, grabbed a knife that had been strapped to her leg, and pointed it at Annie.

Annie stopped walking. Not because of the knife; she doubted that this woman could land a blow on her, and even if she could, Annie could take a stabbing if necessary. But she was still too close to the car. It was bound to explode once the fire reached the tank. Unless it happened soon enough to take her opponent out for her, she would have to get in and out quickly to avoid getting caught in the blast.

Maybe this murder business was getting to her more than she thought. She'd forgotten her crossbow back by the tree.

With a sigh, Annie pulled a knife out of her pocket. Not her best knife - that one was still with Mikasa. But it would do.

*

"He was... he was fun and supportive. He was kind and encouraging and... I would have trusted him with my life. I trusted him. We all trusted him." Jean took a swig of his beer, then began running a hand through his hair again. Tugging at it. He let out a low laugh. "I feel like a moron."

"You shouldn't," Porco said. "It sounds like this guy's a good liar."

"The best," Jean confirmed. "You know what the worst part is?"

"What?"

*

Reiner grabbed at Connie, who dove to the side to avoid him. At the same instant, he lashed out with his stake, fueling all of his strength into the blow.

The stake found itself shallowly lodged into Reiner's shoulder.

Reiner stepped back, then pulled the stake out of his shoulder. The wound closed up the second it was dislodged. Connie took another step away at the sight, but Reiner didn't so much as glance at it. He was too busy staring at the stake in disbelief.

Connie took advantage of the pause to edge closer to the window. He only made it a few inches before Reiner looked up, one eyebrow raised as his expression shifted into something along the lines of bemusement. Connie froze.

"You know that wouldn't have done anything even if I didn't have the ring," Reiner said.

"Yeeeeah." Connie laughed, an edge of hysteria - and it was definitely hysteria - sinking into his voice. "I guess I don't aim too well when I'm panicked."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. It's impressive that you tried at all." Reiner offered him a smile that matched up perfectly with the warm approval in his voice. It only made Connie that much more aware of how much it didn't line up with the conversation they were having.

Connie probably should have kept his mouth shut. A smart person would have kept their mouth shut. Unfortunately, no one could ever accuse Connie Springer of being a smart person. "You like that I tried to kill you?"

"I like that you fought back," Reiner said. "It shows potential."

"Potential," Connie echoed numbly.

He had potential as a vampire. What did that even mean? That once he was turned, he would be a ruthless murderer without an ounce of morality or humanity? That he would be vicious and uncontrollable? Or did Reiner mean that he would be like him and act like a kind, friendly, trustworthy person until the right circumstances arose to reveal the truth?

Would his friends be able to kill him if he was turned? Or would they look at him and feel the same way that he did when he looked at Reiner?

"Yeah," Reiner said. "I think we'll be-"

He didn't get a chance to finish, because Connie gathered together all his fear, hysteria, desperation, and grief, and used it to make a mad sprint for his wall and launch himself out the window.

*

"I know who you are," the woman called. "Annie Leonhart. The slayer."

"And you're Petra," Annie returned. She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. Her group had pieced the identities of Levi's comrades together through his phone calls, but it was so much easier if she didn't put a name to a face. If she just viewed them as prey rather than people.

Prey. They were prey, but they were also a people. Annie might have been a person once, but she was Tybur's hunter first and foremost.

She had to end it.

Petra opened her mouth.

She didn't manage to get a word out before Annie raced forward. Petra made an attempt to defend herself, but her head wound had left her disorientated and unbalanced. A sharp jab to her broken arm made her cry out in pain, and before she could pull herself back together, Annie's knife was slitting her throat.

*

Reiner had spared Jean's life. He told him that he would regret sparing him, but he had done it anyway, even though he would have gotten out of it. Why would he do that? Why would a bloodthirsty monster spare him and kill Marco?

"The worst part is-" I'm not sure it was all an act, but- "he doesn't see anything wrong with what he did."

Porco blinked. "You mean-"

"He doesn't feel any guilt at all! Nothing! The asshole's just going to... to... go on and hurt someone else without a care in the world."

Because even if Reiner had liked them to some degree, it didn't change the fact that he was a monster. He would always be a monster. And monsters didn't repent or change.

He had seen the look on his face. Marco's death meant nothing to him.

*

Connie's house was only two stories tall. Even landing in the hedges beneath his window, that two-story fall was enough to force the air out of his lungs and make his body ache when he hit the ground. It didn't feel like anything was broken, but his chest was burning and each of his limbs felt like they weighed half a ton. It would be a few minutes before he was able to so much as stand, and Reiner didn't need a few minutes. All Connie could do was limply roll out of the bushes. 

There was no getting out of it. He had fucked up.

Distantly, he heard Reiner climbing down the side of his house. Connie ignored it and stared dazedly up at the night sky instead. Paradis had enough light pollution that some of the stars were obscured, but it was still beautiful. It was probably going to be the last beautiful thing he saw as a human.

Or maybe he would get lucky and it would be the last beautiful thing he saw at all. Maybe he would get lucky and Reiner would just kill him. If he didn't...

His family would be home in two days. Hanji said that some vampires still cared about their families, but it had sounded like it was rare. Which meant that he probably wouldn't. He just had to hope that his vampiric self would wander off and find some other terrible thing to do. Or maybe Mikasa would kill him. It would suck for her to have to do that, but... he wasn't as close to her as Sasha was. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The stars were beautiful. Did vampires think the stars were beautiful, or were they just dots to them?

Reiner dropped onto the ground and stalked over to him. Distantly, Connie wondered; if he asked him not to let him hurt his family, would he listen? Would he care enough to listen? He didn't know how important family was to Reiner. Suddenly, he wished that he'd asked him about his family, even if they were probably long dead, just to have something to gauge it by.

"That wasn't very smart," Reiner said, looking down at Connie with a frown.

No. He couldn't ask any favors from Reiner. If he did, he would probably view it as him agreeing to be turned. He had to cling to the hope that he would just be killed.

"Never said I was smart," Connie wheezed. He was still too sore to run, but he managed to force himself to sit up. "And you want to keep me around forever?"

Reiner crouched down beside him and laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, close to his neck. "Of course," he said. "We're friends."

Connie tried to scoot away, only for his attempt to be foiled by Reiner tightening his grip a little. A little, but enough for him to feel how much stronger than him he was. Of course.

Connie sighed and glanced up at the sky one last time. "Marco was your friend too," he murmured.

"Connie..." Reiner put his other hand on his shoulder and jerked him around to face him. "This will only hurt for a moment."

Reiner's face morphed into a nightmarish visage of ridges, fangs, and yellow eyes as he pulled Connie closer and leaned in.

*

The smart thing to do would have been to leave immediately, yet Annie found herself unable to do anything but stand there holding Petra until she breathed her last garbled breath.

It took less than a minute for her to die.

Annie did not cry once the deed was done. She did not let herself apologize. She just released her victim's body and allowed it to drop onto the grass beneath them.

The car was almost completely consumed by flames now. Annie took note of it and sprinted across the street, back over to the pine tree she had taken shelter in. She retrieved the crossbow that was waiting for her at the base of the tree and waited for the inevitable explosion.

It came not even two minutes later. The flames were relentless and unforgiving, but didn't reach far enough. Petra's body was untouched.

Annie allowed her eyes to shutter closed for a heartbeat. Just one - it was all she could afford. The explosion meant that the police would be on their way, and she didn't want to deal with Reiner if she left a corpse with a slit throat for them to find.

Petra would have to go in the river.

*

"It sounds like you've got a perfectly fake bastard on your hands," Porco growled.

"Yes," Jean said. Worse than that, but considering that he couldn't say the full truth... "That's one of the best ways you can describe him."

"And you probably want revenge," Porco suggested.

"Right now? More than anything. I want him to face some actual consequences for his actions. I want him to feel the same pain that he inflicted on his so-called friends. I want him to fucking hurt. But it wouldn't..." Jean raised a hand to cover his stinging eyes and laughed emptily. "It wouldn't matter."

"Are you sure?" Porco pressed. "Don't you wish-"

"-of course I do," Jean cut in. "But none of it would matter if he can't actually change. I just wish..."

*

Reiner shoved Connie away and scrambled backward. His face shifted back into human form, yet the inhuman yellow lingered in his eyes for a moment.

No, not yellow. Gold. His eyes were glowing gold. As Connie braced his arms against the ground and scooted away, the glow faded, leaving behind only the suddenly confused expression on Reiner's face.

"Connie?" he asked. "Are you..." As he trailed off, confusion gave way to realization, which melted into horrified devastation. "Oh," Reiner whispered, bringing a hand up to his mouth and staggering another step back. "Oh, god."

Connie stared. "Uh..."

Reiner took another step back, a choked noise leaving his throat. No, not just a choked noise. Was that a sob?

Connie still felt like he'd been hit by a small car, but he managed to find the will to rise to his feet. He didn't have any idea what was going on, but he knew that he should take advantage of it. He should run away. He should run away, pray that his phone was still working after that fall, and call Mikasa or one of the watchers for help. If he did, there was a chance that he could get out of this alive. Depending on what had come over Reiner, he might be able to provide them with an opportunity to take him down.

He should have done any one of those things. It was what his friends would have wanted him to do. It was what logic dictated he should do. Hell, it was what the fear still gripping his stomach demanded that he do.

But as he watched Reiner tear up and start whispering to himself, he was hit with the bone-deep understanding that something was wrong.

So instead, Connie did one of the stupidest things that he could have possibly done.

He took a step forward.

"Reiner?" Connie tried. "What's-"

Reiner flinched. "I'm sorry," he said, the words tumbling out in a pained, frantic gasp.

"What?" Connie asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. It went unnoticed, completely covered up by the train of rambling Reiner had started on.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I didn't- but I did- I shouldn't have but I did, almost to you and to him and her and- oh god, oh god, there were so many." Another strangled sob broke free of Reiner's throat as he fell to his knees, one hand covering his face. "Oh god, Marco." The sobs increased, and Connie noticed tears slipping free past Reiner's hand. "I should have listened. Oh god, I should have listened. He was, I shouldn't have..."

Reiner paused, slowly lowering his hand. He looked over his shoulder, at an empty space a little to the left. "Did you know that this was going to happen?" he whispered.

"Uh." Connie took another, hesitant step forward. "No? I mean, I'm not even sure what's going on." He crouched down and tentatively reached out a hand. "Reiner, what-"

"No!" Reiner cried. He scrambled backward, a frantic, horrified, disgusted look on his face. "Don't touch me!"

Connie paused. "That's... pretty odd for you to say," he said, letting a touch of nervous humor tinge his words. "I mean, you're the one who tired to t-"

Reiner groaned, grabbing at his head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm- what else am I supposed to say, Eren!? I can't..."

"Alright!" Connie exclaimed, taking a step back and holding up his hands. "No touching! Got it! Just... try to breathe or something. I'm... I'm going to..."

Connie reached into his pocket and felt for his phone. He still had no idea what was going on, but he was becoming increasingly certain of two things. One, based on what he knew about vampires, whatever was happening with Reiner probably shouldn't be possible. Two, Reiner wasn't faking. No one was that good of an actor.

It had felt silly when Hanji insisted that they all save their phone number, since everyone already had Erwin's. Now, he just hoped that his phone wasn't damaged and they picked up quickly.

Reiner didn't react to Connie pulling his phone out and starting to scroll through his contacts. However, Connie did react to the sound of the gate opening. He looked over in time to see Bertolt walking around the side of his house. The vampire looked stressed, but it couldn't have been anything compared to the look on Connie's face as he jumped back with a squawk, accidentally dropping his phone in the process.

Bertolt must not have gotten a good look at the full scene yet. He shot Connie a quick glance, but it wasn't him he was talking to. "I know what you both said," he began, "but you've been taking a long time, and I thought we should go help An..." his voice trailed off as he rounded the corner and finally got a good look at Reiner, who was now gripping his head in his hands and muttering to himself.

"Reiner?" Bertolt whispered.

No response. Bertolt looked over at Connie, who shrugged and took a step back. "I don't know what's happening," he said. "He just kinda..."

Was it a good idea to tell Bertolt that Reiner had just spontaneously broken down? How did vampires respond to vulnerabilities in their teammates and comrades? Would he kill him? Would he blame Connie for whatever this was and kill them both? The fear that had been momentarily overshadowed by his confusion came back full-force, except now he wasn't sure if he should just run, or he should try to take Reiner with him. Which was, he knew, a whole new and separate level of stupid.

Bertolt walked over to Reiner before he could come to a decision. He crouched down in front of him hesitantly and lingered there for a moment before coaxing, "Reiner? Can you please look at me?"

Reiner didn't respond at first. However, when Bertolt put a hand on his shoulder, he slowly lowered a hand and whispered, "Bertolt, what have we done?"

Bertolt opened his mouth, but all that came out was a choked noise. Reiner didn't seem to care. He just laughed, broken and hollow, and continued on to mutter, "can you understand how much blood is on our hands? How many people have died because of us? After everything we've done, we... we deserve to die. There's no..."

Reiner's voice lowered past the point of legibility as he continued on. That was about when, in his third phenomenally dumb move of the night, Connie stepped toward the duo. "Is... is he going to be okay?" he asked.

"No," Bertolt whispered. "I don't think so."

"Right." Connie swallowed heavily and tried to quell the trembling in his hands, since he knew all too well that he wouldn't be able to stop the waver in his voice. "And are you going to-?"

Bertolt looked over at him, surprise etched across his face. "What? No. I just need to... I need to think of something."

"Right," Connie repeated, because apparently shock and terror weren't beneficial to his vocabulary. "Well, I guess there's always-"

"Connie," Bertolt interrupted, voice going cold. "Get out of here."

Despite everything, Connie looked at Reiner for a moment longer before saying, "right. I'll... do that."

He backed away, pausing only to grab his phone off the ground, before pushing through his lingering soreness to sprint away from his house. Only when he was a full two blocks away did he slow down and start sifting through his contacts once again.

Maybe Hanji would know what the fuck just happened.

*

"I wish that bastard had a soul."

"Granted."

Chapter Text

It turned out that Hanji was quick to answer their phone. They also picked Connie up and shuttled him over to Erwin's house within ten minutes of him calling.

From there, he was shepherded off to a comfortable little sitting room and told to wait. When Hanji returned, it was with a mug of hot chocolate that they handed him. He was surprised to find that they planned on talking to him alone. Surprised, but not necessarily unhappy. Levi and Erwin both had a certain intensity to them that he wasn't certain he was prepared to deal with right then.

Connie spent the next half an hour describing the incident with Reiner. He trailed off and stared down into his hot chocolate several times when he struggled to find his words, but at no point did he actually take a sip. His stomach was still churning enough that he wasn’t sure he wanted to take that risk. The warmth made it nice anyway. When it stopped being warm, he kept holding it, just to have something else to focus on when the conversation got too difficult.

Because it was difficult. He was willing to admit to himself that he was impressed that he hadn't cried, thrown up, or otherwise broken down by the end of it.

As if reading his mind, Hanji said, "Thank you for sharing with me. It must have been hard."

It sounded like Hanji wanted him to be proud of himself. He should have been proud of himself. Yet for some reason, those words made the spark of pride he had already been feeling shrivel up. Instead, his mind was yanked back to the encounter.

His terror at the prospect that he was going to be turned.

Reiner breaking down at the last minute.

The crying.

Connie laughed uneasily. "Yeah, well." 

He looked down at the mug of hot chocolate. This time, his gaze only stayed on it for a moment before straying to his arms. He was grateful that his legs were fine aside from some lingering soreness, but his arms weren't so lucky. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, there was a mild stinging from where the bushes had left scratches. It wasn't as bad as the gnawing ache near his elbow, which turned into a sharp pain whenever he moved it. He'd have to tell someone about it soon. Maybe go to the doctor and get an x-ray. He was kind of surprised that Hanji hadn't noticed how gingerly he'd been treating it. Then again, his story was very distracting. An injured arm just didn't seem to matter compared to...

Connie finally took a gulp of the now-cold cocoa, just to have something to do as he tried to bring himself to speak. It wasn’t enough. Before long, he lowered the mug and was left floundering for words for several more seconds. He swallowed again, this time just air, and forced himself to ask, "do you have any idea what... what happened with Reiner?"

Hanji sighed heavily. "Based on your story, it sounds like..." They paused to adjust their glasses. Afterward, they dropped their hands into their lap and let out a chuckle that was equal parts anxious and excited. "I can't believe I'm actually getting to say this, but it sounds like he got his soul back."

"Ah," Connie said, trying to look like he wasn't raking his mind to try and remember what Hanji had said about vampires and souls the other day. "I'm guessing that... doesn't happen often?" he asked. Hanji had said a lot about vampires in that meeting, but the fact that they didn't have souls, that they couldn't love like other people, was one of the parts that stuck with him.

It was one of the things that had haunted him most as he stared up at the night sky, waiting for his doom.

"That would be a gross understatement," Hanji said. "Only a handful of vampires have ever gotten their souls back in known history, and none of them are still alive today. The exact method varied, but it always involves some powerful magic, and the vast majority of cases were involuntary."

"Yeah," Connie murmured, his mind wandering back to how Reiner had all but crumbled before him. "It... didn't look like the sort of thing that someone would go for voluntarily." No, it was more than that. It had looked painful. Reiner had been planning on turning him - killing him - when it happened, but after watching him break down for a few minutes, he had been more worried than scared of him.

The ache in his chest and anxiety niggling at the back of his mind told him that he was still worried about him. It made him feel stupid, but not completely. Worrying about Reiner would be completely stupid if he knew for a fact that he was going to turn around and start slaughtering people again. However, Hanji's theory made him think. Granted, it made him think about something that might be stupid. He still wasn't certain that he was understanding all this right. But if Reiner getting his soul back meant what he thought he meant, then maybe...

Connie had never been afraid of sounding stupid before. If he was wrong, then no real harm was done. But if he was right, then this might be something important.

Setting his hot chocolate down on the side table, Connie looked up at Hanji and asked, "When a vampire gets their soul back, that means that they're able to feel guilt and love and stuff like everyone else, right? They get their conscience back?"

Hanji nodded. "As a whole, it's a lot more complicated than it sounds, but yes, that is a part of it."

"Then maybe..." Connie faltered, and for the first time that night, his hesitation because of something good. He was still confused, tired, sore, and more than a little shaky, but he also felt a tiny warm thing flickering around in his chest. "Maybe this could be a good thing?"

A frown slipped onto Hanji's face and their shoulders began to droop. That... wasn't a good sign. But it also didn't mean anything until the watcher actually said something. As such, Connie clung to that flicker of hope and pressed on. "I know that actually getting his soul back looked painful, but Reiner's strong. Once he's pulled himself back together, maybe... maybe now he can be good again! Maybe he can even help us! I know he did a lot of really... really horrible stuff, but if he didn't have his soul then and now he does..."

There was an argument for giving re-ensouled vampires a second chance. There had to be; Connie knew it. But he had never been good with words or speeches or persuasion, so even though there was an argument there, he immediately knew that he wasn't the best one to make it. Heck, he wasn't even saying it for purely moral or ethical reasons either. Some selfish part of him just wanted an opportunity to get his friend back, vampire or not, and he knew it. He didn't completely care either, because a little selfish motivation didn't outweigh the potential for good. And there was potential for good here.

"It would probably be really helpful to have a vampire on our side," he finally finished.

Hanji sighed. "Connie, it sounds like Reiner got his soul back, but we don't know if that actually happened. It could have been a trick."

"A... trick?" Connie allowed the words to sink in for a moment, then shook his head violently. "No," he said. "There's no way. No one could fake a breakdown like that."

"We already know that Reiner's a good actor," Hanji pointed out. "He fooled us all for weeks."

"And I'm saying that this was way beyond what he could pull off!" Connie exclaimed. "You weren't there, Hanji. What happened to him was... it was something else."

Hanji took their glasses off so that they could look Connie directly in the eyes. "Please understand, I'm not saying that I doubt you. Under any other circumstances, I would be all for going out and tracking Reiner down right now. But as it stands... even if there is only a one in a hundred chance that he was faking, that one percent chance could get people killed. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Connie's stomach twisted uncomfortably. "You don't want me to tell the others about this, do you."

Hanji offered him a small, sad smile. "I'm sorry. I know you and Reiner were close, but... if one of your friends runs into him thinking that he has his soul back and he doesn't, they lower their guard too much and end up dead. Right now, I think that's the last thing we want."

"And if he does have his soul?" Connie asked. "Are we supposed to just... just kill him?"

"You're being pretty quick to forgive, considering what he's done," Hanji remarked.

Connie faltered. "I didn't... I'm not saying that I forgive him." It was true. He wanted Reiner to be a better person - he wanted him to be the person he'd thought he was. However, his stomach still lurched when he thought about what had happened only hours ago, before the breakdown. His heart ached when he thought about all the disappeared people, people that Reiner had apparently killed, and his eyes stung when he thought about Marco. He hadn't forgiven him yet. This was just... more complicated than that. "I just don't think it would be right to kill him if he had his soul back."

A flicker of excitement crossed Hanji's face once again, but it was quickly followed by exhaustion. "You know, since it has happened before, there have been lengthy debates about the morality of souled vampires, how much they are to blame for their actions, and if they should be given a second chance or not. And while I do not believe in letting them completely off the hook, I do think that you're right. If he did get his soul back, then staking him right off the bat would be the wrong thing to do."

"But what about Mikasa?" Connie asked. "And... isn't Levi some sort of monster killer?"

"Demon hunter," Hanji corrected. "Levi and Erwin can take care of themselves. I'll tell them about Reiner, and if one of them encounters him, they'll try to take him in alive. As for Mikasa... she's pretty observant. It should be pretty clear to her that something is wrong, and I trust that she'll think before she acts. But Connie..."

Dread pooled in Connie's stomach as he took in the look on Hanji's face. He didn't know the watcher well, but he knew what someone preparing to give out bad news looked like.

"I don't want you to get your hopes up," Hanji said."There's a reason the council doesn't just try to give as many vampires their souls back as possible. It's painful enough that most vampires who got them back had them restored by someone seeking vengeance. The practice is widely considered cruel and unusual."

"When the alternative is death?" Connie asked. "I mean, I know it didn't look fun, but..."

"When a vampire has their soul returned to them, they retroactively feel guilt for every bad thing they did without one," Hanji explained. "The feeling is worsened for having spent any significant amount of time without a soul, because they aren't used to guilt and remorse anymore. It's harder to handle and tends to become utterly all-consuming. There is some variation depending on how vicious a vampire was and how long they went without, but... Connie. Of the previous vampires to have their souls restored, the vast majority committed suicide within a year."

Connie’s stomach lurched. "I see," he whispered. "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

Hanji nodded, their eyes glimmering with mournful sympathy. "Right outside, two doors to the left."

Connie briefly nodded his thanks before rushing out of the room. He made it to the toilet just in time to throw up.

*

Annie had blood on her shirt. She was lucky that Levi's team had come into town when it was already dark out. If it was daytime, it would have been even harder to transport Petra's body to the river. Someone might have run into her while she was weighing it down or letting it sink into the ripples.

If it was daytime, she wouldn't have been able to take a moment to let herself break.

She didn't know exactly how long she stood there, unable to bring herself to do anything but stare out at the dark waters of the river and mentally run through the tally of how many bodies she and her partners had hidden inside it. Of the three of them, Bertolt came the closest to being innocent. He had killed before, but he hadn't directly killed anyone that she knew of over the course of the mission, and hadn't put anyone in the river. He had helped her get rid of Marco, but at the end of the day, Marco's resting place was Annie's sin. Him and Petra. She supposed it was a good thing that the other bodies had burned up. If they hadn't, Annie would be responsible for five of the bodies in the river. Horrible, but still not the worst of the three of them. Reiner...

...Reiner should be happy with her, at least.

It felt like days, but Annie's watch said that she spent less than an hour frozen by the river. There wasn't any particular trigger that reminded her that she had to get going. It was just something that she had developed over the years, the knowledge that she had to keep moving. The understanding that freezing up for too long would put more than herself at risk.

Maybe that would be a good thing. Lara said that Tybur existed for the betterment of the world, yet as she watched the river, Annie wondered if messing up so badly that she got all three of them killed might be the best thing she could do for the world.

It just was a passing thought. A dark thought, or maybe a light one. Yet for all that it caught her breath and tugged at her sorry excuse for a heart, she couldn't let herself seriously consider it. She didn't want Bertolt to die. Even if his nature meant there would always be a certain degree of distance between them, there were times when he almost felt like a friend, or maybe even family. He was her partner. And Reiner... Reiner's moments of cruelty served to make his moments of kindness painful in their own way. He was more bloodthirsty than Bertolt, vicious when he didn't need to be, and could never seem to truly trust Annie to pull her weight. But he was her partner as well, and if he was going to be destroyed, she didn't want it to be because of her.

Marcel was dead. Pieck was gone. Porco was gone and, apparently, a vengeance demon. Bertolt and Reiner were all she had left. She didn't want to turn her back on them, even if it made her a vile woman who turned her back on the rest of the world.

That meant that she couldn't let herself break down by the river for too long. It meant that she had to kill. It meant that she couldn't make any serious mistakes, because if one of them messed up too severely, Tybur would come down on all three of them. That couldn't be allowed to happen, because even if she was the slayer and Reiner had been entrusted with the Gem of Amara, she couldn't bring herself to believe that they stood a chance against the combined might of Lara and her partner.

It meant that she had to leave Petra's body in the river and walk back home.

Annie followed the tarmac leading from the river but cut off onto a gravel path before she could reach the main road. She followed it for over a mile, down to the maze of winding streets that lead back to her house. There, she stuck to the shadows and walked quickly. If anyone was up late enough to spot her blood-soaked person in the dim lamplight, no one cared enough to stop her. In the end, it took her a little less than an hour to get back to the house. 

Walking through the front door did not remove the weight from her shoulders. It couldn't. For a place to have that sort of effect, it would have to be a sanctuary, and sanctuary was something that simply didn't exist for people like her. For weeks, it had managed to provide some sense of security, but that had been ruined when Mikasa learned the truth. The fact that the other slayer knew where she lived meant that she had to be prepared for her to bring the fight to her at any minute. Now, the house was just a building where she didn't have to lie as much as she usually did. It didn't mean very much at all. 

However, 'not much' was still something. It meant that she didn't have to worry about someone seeing her covered in blood, because Bertolt and Reiner were just as wicked as her and had no souls to truly judge her for her crimes. It meant that she could change and maybe even clean off before she had to get back to planning the devastation to come.

In that sense, going home should have made her feel at least a little better. Instead, she walked through the door and immediately felt dread churn inside of her. She didn't know what, didn't know why. It was one of those intangible feelings that had begun to stalk her ever since she first became the slayer.

Something was wrong.

She delicately shut the door behind her, then took a step into the house. Then two. Three. On the fourth step, Bertolt's voice called out from the kitchen. "Annie?"

Annie sucked in a sharp breath. Bertolt sounded stressed, worried, frightened. Frightened in the tired, resigned way that had haunted his voice when they first started planning their mission, the way he sounded whenever he talked about Tybur. When he talked about what would happen if they upset Tybur.

Something was very wrong.

Annie reached for her pocket and scowled when she didn't find her favorite dagger. There was a smaller, perfectly serviceable knife in there, but not her favorite dagger . That one was still from Mikasa, taken by the other slayer after she had pulled it out of her stomach. The memories played in the back of her mind, threatening to drag her somewhere deeper and darker, but she pushed it back, instead focusing on the fear in Bertolt's voice and the urgency of the moment. She pulled the knife out and stepped into the kitchen.

Her thoughts ground to a halt the moment she took in the scene before her.

Their kitchen was nothing special. The island table was a little cluttered, but it wasn't filthy, nor was it overly small or especially fancy. It was boring. Mundane. That mundanity made the scene that Annie walked in on that much more jarring. 

Reiner was standing in the corner of the kitchen, running his hands through his hair and muttering to himself uncontrollably. His expression was rapidly flicking between mania and grief, the two emotions combining poisonously to create a unique form of devastation. Every few seconds, his muttering would stop as his breath hitched.

There were tear tracks on his face.

Annie had never seen Reiner cry before.

Bertolt was hovering around Reiner, visibly unsure of what to do. He was shooting her a desperate look, but it took her a few seconds to tear her gaze away from Reiner and actually meet his gaze.

"Bertolt," she began, voice more fragile and uncertain than she was comfortable with, "what-"

"Annie," Reiner croaked, causing both of his comrades to look at him. He slowly lowered his hands. They were shaking, although he didn't seem to take any notice of it. His attention was focused solely on Annie, his expression haunted, like he was looking at Annie, yet looking through her at the same time. If she didn't know better, she'd say he looked ...

"Annie," Reiner repeated, his voice dropped into a sorrowful whisper. Sorry. "What have we done to you?"

Annie took a step back. "Bertolt, what is this?" she demanded. Despite her attempts to keep her voice even, it came out somewhat strangled.

Bertolt swallowed heavily. At the same time, Reiner said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Annie. I shouldn't have let them use you like this." Annie took another step back as he began to devolve into rapid rambling. "I should have- could have- but- there should have been another way- if I knew- " he cut himself off, face contorting into a look of horrified frustration as he tried to solve some sort of nightmarish riddle that only he was privy to.

Right now, she didn't want to know what was going on in his head. But she had to, for the mission. Reiner was their heavy-hitter, following Annie. He was the one Lara had entrusted with the Gem of Amara. If he fell apart on them... 

Reiner's ramblings devolved into incoherent muttering. Bertolt shot him a long look, sadness written clear on his face, before walking over to Annie. There, he hesitated for a moment before shooting another glance back at Reiner, who seemed almost entirely oblivious to what the pair were doing.

"Something... happened," Bertolt murmured.

"I gathered," Annie said. This time, she managed to keep her voice flat.

When Bertolt finally turned back around to meet Annie's gaze, it was with worry and fear dancing in his gaze. "I'm not sure how, but... I think Reiner got his soul back."

Annie heard what he said. She understood the meaning of all the individual words. That didn't mean that they sunk in. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, utterly unable to process. "What?" she numbly asked.

"I think..." Bertolt paused and shook his head. "No. I'm... I'm pretty sure. Reiner got his soul back. He had a breakdown in front of Connie and he’s… he’s been like this ever since.”

Annie's eyes slid back over to Reiner. He had dropped his hands back to his sides now, allowing her a full view of his face as a myriad of horrible emotions danced across it.

An alien thought occurred to her. If he had his soul back, then... did he actually mean what he said? Did he truly feel bad for what he did?

The thought only lingered for a moment before the ice began to creep in.

"So what?" Annie asked, yanking her gaze back to Bertolt. She could feel her expression settle into something cold and impassive. It was, she knew, only a few steps away from curious.

Bertolt blinked. "So... what?"

"I have a soul, and I still contribute to the mission." Reiner had made sure she pulled her weight, even when she had never shown any signs of crumbling the way he was now. He was the one who had wanted her to prove that her soul wouldn't keep her from doing what needed to be done. And now she was supposed to accept that he was going to abandon them all by succumbing to the very thing that he'd been so afraid of her giving in to? No. He couldn't do this to them, not after dragging them this far.

"You do," Bertolt said. Something sad and regretful flickered in his eyes, just for a moment. "But you've had it all along. Suddenly getting it back, I think that's... different."

Annie shook her head. "No," she said. It couldn't be different. A soul was a soul. If she could push through and ignore hers, then so could he. If he couldn't, then that would mean that she was an even worse person than... "No," she repeated, pretending as if she could not hear the denial straining at her voice. "He just needs a little time to pull himself together."

He had to pull himself together. If he didn't, if he remained the miserable wreck she saw now, then the whole mission would be doomed.

Annie walked over to Reiner. Bertolt made a surprised noise and moved to follow her, but she paid him no mind. Her attention was fixed on the vampire before her.

He barely even reacted to her approach. Annie frowned oh-so-slightly before calling, voice stern and cold, "Reiner." That got a reaction. When he looked in her direction, it still felt a little more like he was looking through her rather than at her, but she would take what she could at this point. "You need to pull yourself together."

She could have stopped there. Some part of her, the last precious piece that wasn't completely cold and cruel and rotten, knew that she should have stopped there. But that part of her was small and growing smaller by the day. It was overruled by some hurt, bitter thing lurking in the back of her throat, which pushed her to add, "Tybur has no use for a vampire that won't kill."

Reiner stared at her for several seconds. Then he chuckled, harsh and pained. "Let them kill me then," he said. "It's the least I deserve."

Annie grit her teeth. "Yours isn't the only life on the line." If the watchers had found out that Tybur was still active, then they were already in hot water. While there was a chance that Lara would keep Annie alive until she could secure the possession of the next slayer even if the mission failed, she certainly wouldn't be as merciful toward Bertolt.

Reiner faltered. "I know," he whispered. "It never has been. I can't think of another way, but I can't... this wasn't... This never should have happened."

Annie opened her mouth, but no words came out.

What Reiner was saying made sense.

So why did she feel like he wasn't talking about them at all?

She supposed it didn't matter. All that really mattered was the way her heart sank as she gazed into Reiner's eyes.

This wasn't an act. Annie knew Reiner. She knew that he was a good actor, but she knew the subtle, near-imperceptible differences that showed up when he was lying - even to himself. It was why she knew that the warmth he showed Mikasa's friends was far more real than it should have been. It was why she was aware of the subtle air of falsehood that often surrounded him, even though she'd never figured out what exactly he was lying about. But as she looked at him now, she couldn't catch even a hint of a lie. There was no act this time, no trick. This wasn't like Marco's murder or his human friends. This wasn’t a situation where he could brush his mistakes aside and berate Annie instead.

Reiner was well and truly broken, succumbed to the very thing that he'd been so worried would make Annie fall apart. Even if he could pull himself back together, they couldn't afford to wait for him.

He might as well have left them completely. He might as well be... no. If Bertolt's theory was right, he would probably be better off dead.

She couldn't say that he didn't deserve it. With anger twisting her stomach and betrayal stinging in the back of her throat, she couldn't even say that she was sorry for him.

But it was a problem. If Tybur found out... Some degree of forgiveness may be shown if they were able to produce results. But so far, all she had was a handful of nearly-healed injuries, a stolen dagger, and a broken vampire. If she wanted any of them to be shown mercy, she needed a dead slayer.

Annie took a moment to steel herself before looking over at Bertolt. "Don't wait up on me," she ordered.

Bertolt frowned. "Where are you going?"

"Isn't that obvious? This needs to end tonight."

Bertolt's eyes widened. "Y-you mean, right now?"

"It has to be now," Annie bit out. "We've failed, Bertolt. Mikasa knows about us, the watchers probably know about Tybur, Reiner's a mess, god knows what Ymir's doing- we need to fix it while we still have the chance."

She would change her clothes into something that wasn't eye-catching by virtue of being soaked in blood and choose her weapons carefully, but she would be hunting Ackerman within the hour.

Mikasa.

Annie's chest began to ache and a lump formed in her throat. She glanced over at Reiner, who had stopped muttering and was glancing anxiously between Annie and Bertolt, and forced herself to swallow it down. One member of their group breaking down was already one too many. If she failed tonight, it would mean the end for all of them.

Mikasa Ackerman had to die.

Annie Leonhart had to kill her.

She knew that from the start. The things that she knew would weigh on the tattered shreds of her heart - the color of her eyes, the smell of her hair, the feeling of her lips against hers - were her own failures to bear.

"Alright," Bertolt finally said. "I'll go with-"

"No," Annie interrupted. She hesitated then, her thoughts racing to keep up with her words. If Bertolt went with her, she would have to keep an eye out for him instead of just focusing on herself. If things went wrong, it would give Mikasa the opportunity to take them both out 

Annie shook her head slightly. "You need to stay here and watch Reiner. Ackerman is my fight," she ordered. 

The hesitation was plain to see on Bertolt's face, but so was the reluctant understanding. Annie only had to take one look at that expression to know that she had won.

There was no point in continuing the conversation any further. Giving Bertolt a small nod, Annie turned to walk out of the room.

Someone grabbed her wrist before she made it more than a few steps.

She turned back around to find Reiner staring at her desperately. "Don't do this," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"We can run away, or... just don't do this. You'll regret it." Reiner's voice was hoarse and his tone an inch away from pleading. Despite all that, she had already seen from him and what Bertolt had told her, it was enough to make Annie pause for a moment. In that moment, Reiner tightened his grip on her wrist and whispered, "Please."

Annie wrenched her wrist out of her grasp. "You of all people have no right to ask that."

Reiner's expression contorted in pain. It wasn't dramatic, but to Annie, who has never seen him come anywhere close to making such an expression, it was unmissable, as was the despair in his eyes. That despair was tinged by guilt, regret, dismay, a whole myriad of things that Annie just couldn't deal with right now. 

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

There was no running from Tybur.

One way or another, the mission would end tonight.

*

Erwin could hardly stand to look at Levi's face as he stepped through the door. It was his responsibility not to look away though, just like it would be his responsibility to share the news with Hanji once they were done with Connie.

All of them knew that something must have gone wrong when Petra, Eld, Oluo, and Gunther had failed to arrive. Levi was the closest to them, but he knew that Hanji also considered them friends. Even so, they hadn't hesitated to help when they received an emergency call from Connie. They had been speaking to him for over an hour now, first about a recent incident involving Reiner, then comforting him after he broke down and got sick.

Erwin dearly wished that he would be able to give them good news at the end of the night. He wanted to put little brightness back on their face as well as Levi's, to do something to dissipate the shadow that he had called them to stand under, the shadow that he would ask them to wade further into yet.

The furious grief wafting off of Levi told him that he would be able to do no such thing.

"Pigs say it was a car crash," Levi growled, now bothering to step out of the doorway after closing the door behind him. "The car caught fire, Petra's body is missing, and they're saying it must have just burnt up. "

Erwin exhaled slowly. He didn't want to force an already grieving friend to consider such a prospect, but as it stood, they couldn't afford to take the risk. "Do you think she may have been-"

"Petra would have thrown herself into the fire before letting herself be turned," Levi bit out. "It wasn't a damn vampire that killed her either. Leonhart did this."

Erwin didn't bother asking how he knew. If the police were at the site of the crash, they wouldn't have let Levi get close enough to get a good look, but he wasn't one of America's fiercest demon hunters for nothing. He knew to look for the signs of a struggle - or a lack thereof.

Levi's companions had all been trained hunters themselves. Unless the crash killed all four of them immediately, if they were facing a vampire, there would have been a big enough struggle to leave signs that Levi would have picked up on, even with police interference. Erwin was certain that this would hold true even if they came up against Reiner. But the slayer? With her strength combined with the element of surprise, he could see her ending it too quickly for them to make more than a token fight for their lives.

Besides, it seemed that Reiner had already been off harassing Connie, and although Erwin had never met Bertolt personally, what he had heard about the mild-mannered vampire made him doubt that he possessed the drive to do something like this on his own. Which meant that whether she was acting alone or with Bertolt's assistance, Annie Leonhart was now a murderer.

"I'm sorry, Levi," Erwin said. "If the council had found Annie sooner-"

"Those bastards would have made it worse," Levi growled. He stalked out of the doorway and into the living room, where he stood in front of a chair, but did not actually sit down. Instead, he turned to glare up at Erwin and launched into his rant. "The council wants their slayers to be nice, compliant martyrs who'll thank them when they send them to their deaths. Does Leonhart seem like that kind of person to you?"

Erwin didn't say anything. His silence still gave Levi plenty to work with. "If they got her as a little brat, they would've done their best to brainwash her. Except Tybur already did that, and she's still a volatile, angry bitch. You think the council would accept that? A slayer who behaves most of the time, who might strike out on her own if they make her do something she doesn't want to?"

"You're making a lot of assumptions," Erwin pointed out.

"You're right," Levi said. "All I know about Leonhart is that she's a murderous liar. I must have been thinking about your slayer."

Erwin frowned. "I still do not intend on getting the council involved," he said.

"You think that matters?" Levi asked. "Even if they don't realize that anything is happening here, eventually they'll want to check in on how their new slayer is going. She's nineteen, right? An older slayer who didn't get their child soldier training and they found too late to put through a Cruciamentum." Levi paused just long enough to sit down. "Unless they decide to do one anyway."

Erwin felt a chill run up his back. It did not upset his composure, but it still bothered him that it happened. "I would not consent to that."

"You think that would stop them? If they decide that they need to make sure that their new slayer isn't another dud, do you think they'll give a damn what you say?" Levi's eyes were alight with fury, the night's new pain reopening the old and lashing out at the most reliable target in his life.

Erwin did not begrudge him. If venting about the council helped soften the blow of his friends’ death even a little, then he would listen. He just had to make sure that he did not wander too far down old, broken roads.

"No," Erwin confessed, looking Levi in the eyes. "I don't think it would. But I would not consent, and I would not let Mikasa walk into it without a warning." He paused. When he spoke again, he was only partially talking about Mikasa, and they both knew it. "The power of the slayer is a powerful asset and failing to properly utilize it would be to the detriment of humanity. That is why the Watcher's Council is supposed to exist. However, pushing that power until the girl who wields it breaks and can be discarded is as inefficient as it is inhumane. There are no dud slayers, and when a slayer dies in a way that she is deemed as such, that is the council's failure, not her own."

Levi scoffed. "Fancy words. Are you saying that your plan is to be blatantly insubordinate to the council? How do you think that'll work out for you?"

"I don't know," Erwin confessed, "But it is what I will do if I must. Mikasa will not end up like Isabel."

Silence fell over the room.

"At the rate things are going, it looks like it might get a lot worse than that," Levi finally said.

Erwin's chest twinged in appreciation and pain. Appreciation that Levi could acknowledge that a rogue slayer and that the resurgence of Tybur could lead to a disaster far worse than his own sister's death, then pain that he had made him consider things in such a way, and for what he was about to ask.

"It might," Erwin said. "That is why I need you and Hanji to continue to fight alongside me, so that we can ensure that it doesn't."

"That was never a fucking question," Levi grumbled. "But first, you might want to talk to-"

He was cut off by a sharp ring from Erwin's cell phone.

"That better be who I think it is," Levi muttered.

Erwin pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered. "Erwin Smith," he said, polite and crisp.

Mikasa's urgent voice spoke without preamble. "I just got a text from Connie. He said I should call you?"

Erwin cast a surprised glance down the hall, toward the room that Hanji and Connie were speaking in. They must have intended for him to warn her that Reiner was on the move. It was lucky timing, even if he ended up having to share even worse news.

"Annie and her companions are on the move," he said. "Levi's companions have been slain, and Mr. Springer was attacked earlier this night."

The phone went silent. In that pause, he risked a glance at Levi. He nodded, expression heavy and dark. 

When Mikasa spoke again, her voice was cold and heavy with resolve. "Annie isn't going to rest until one of us is dead."

"You're right," Erwin said. "She won't."

Chapter Text

All roads led her back to the water.

Mikasa kept a few yards between herself and the water as she paced up and down along the riverbank. Every now and then, her gaze flicked toward the trees speckling the far shore or got caught on the silvery glimmer of starlight reflecting off the river. She never let herself look for long. Her attention had to remain on her immediate surroundings; the places someone could hide.

A ratty old dock hovered over the water, just up from where Mikasa stood. Several hundred yards down, she could make out the looming shape of a canning factory that had long ago been condemned and abandoned due to environmental concerns over its closeness to the river. Only a stone's throw away from where she paced, the patchy grass was interrupted by a worn tarmac path with large, leafy trees lining its sides. She knew that it would lead to the main road if she followed it. From there, it was only a short trip to Krista's apartment. That meant that this was probably Ymir's territory.

There was no sign of the vampire and her girlfriend tonight, nor any bystanders. Not even Eren was there to keep her company. Mikasa was completely alone.

That would change. She knew it. Slayers weren’t psychic, but their intuition was still a force to be reckoned with. More to the point, she knew Annie . If she was on the move, she wouldn't stop until she found her.

It wouldn't take long; the river wasn't even two miles away from where Levi's friends had "crashed". Annie was bound to revisit the scene of the crime. More importantly, she would expect Mikasa to investigate it.

But would she expect Mikasa to be by the river?

Mikasa began to feel an itch in her limbs and a nagging in the back of her mind for the umpteenth time that night. Wait, she reminded herself.

This was where she had to be. It might not be the most obvious location, but it was not entirely random either. Were a less diligent person chasing her, she may have been more concerned, but Annie would not stop until she found her.

And she would find her.

One of them would be dead before sunrise.

So Mikasa waited, even though it drove her up the wall. She paced. She kept her eyes sharp and made sure nothing escaped her notice. When she felt her attention begin to wander, she reminded herself of Marco, of everyone else who had died because she hadn't done something sooner, and jerked herself back to reality.

Finally, just as the moon was beginning to sink into the sky, she heard a twig snap.

Mikasa froze. She didn't hear anything more, but she felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck and a tingle run over her skin. Beneath it, a voice urged her to run while another told her to get ready to fight.

"Annie," Mikasa called, turning around to face the path.

A moment of silence. Two. Three. Mikasa did not look away, and finally, Annie stepped out from behind one of the trees, sword in hand.

"This is the last place I expected to find you," she said.

Mikasa said nothing. She only had a moment before they would inevitably spring into action - she didn’t want to waste it on words. Her eyes raked Annie up and down. She didn't let herself get caught on the other girl’s impassive expression, completely devoid of guilt or regret, and refused to think about the aching pang that it sent through her chest. Instead, she focused on the weapon in Annie's hand.

A sword was a smart choice. Annie wasn't a long-range fighter, but she knew that Mikasa was, and had clearly gone for something that would allow her to hit from a distance without going too far out of her comfort zone. The way Annie's eyes raked her over told her that she was taking note of Mikasa's arsenal as well. There was no bag of weapons tonight; her only weapons were the crossbow slung over her shoulder and the stake peeking out of her left jacket pocket. Her pants were too tight to be hiding anything.

Something danced over Annie's visage - a shadow of doubt. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, squared her jaw, and rolled her shoulders.

Mikasa raised her crossbow, a bolt already loaded and ready inside of it.

Annie charged at her, sword pulled back in preparation for her first strike.

Mikasa lowered her crossbow and sprinted down the shoreline.

Annie let out a wordless shout of surprise. It triggered a spark of cold, furious excitement in Mikasa, but not as much as the simple sound of Annie's pursuing footsteps did. Mikasa focused on them, used them as the rhythm to drive them forward. When they slowed down, so did she. When they sped up, she did as well.

Eventually, Mikasa's legs began to ache. She felt it and took it as a sign to turn her attention to her lungs instead. Slayers were in possession of a large amount of stamina, but Mikasa generally killed her foes before she could be pulled into a chase, and certainly wasn't used to running away. Leg pain didn't matter - she was used to forcing herself through far worse. 

Getting winded was another matter entirely. She began to breathe in time with the footsteps - deep, long breaths when she was running slower; short, shallow, rapid ones when she was going faster. Enough air to keep her going, not enough to slow her down.

As the abandoned factory drew closer, Mikasa slowed her pace without waiting for Annie to do so first. Goosebumps rose along Mikasa's skin as Annie put in a burst of speed and drew closer. Yet she forced herself to maintain her pace for several hundred feet, Annie growing closer and closer with each passing second. Then, when she could all but feel the sword tickling the nape of the nape, she broke into a sprint. 

Annie let out a shout of frustration, which Mikasa accepted with a burst of vindictive pleasure. The sound of the other slayer's footfalls became more distant as she began to fall behind once again. Mikasa's body ached as she pulled from the reserves of energy she had been saving through the chase. It was a dangerous move that forced her to dance on the edge of pushing herself too far, but in the heat of the moment, it was also worth it. 

After a few moments, she felt her crossbow begin to slip from her fingers as she turned to race toward the factory's entrance. She only fought to hold onto it for a few moments before allowing it to clatter to the ground.

It was as Mikasa turned to race toward the factory’s entrance that she realized that this wasn't just a chase. It was a dance. Under different circumstances, she may have actually enjoyed it.

No wonder Ymir had looked like she was having so much fun. 

Mikasa dug her heels in and skidded to a halt just as she reached the factory's doors. They loomed above her, tall and wide, and were shackled shut. But time had taken its toll on them. Where once they may have posed a genuine obstacle, the chains, lock, and door alike were now covered in large rust spots. Mikasa took a step back and kicked with all her might. The chain snapped and the doors slammed against the factory walls, the impact making her teeth rattle and drowning out the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.

It hadn't taken long for Mikasa to get the doors open, but Annie was fast. As such, Mikasa wasted no time in darting inside the factory. There, she paused long enough for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

No one had bothered to properly clean it out before abandoning the place. Old metal containers and decrepit, useless conveyor belts and canning machines scattered the floor. On the far walls, she could make out the beginnings of hallways. A shallow dip sat in the far-left wall - an elevator. Beside it, there sat a door.

A stairwell.

Annie's footsteps were growing significantly closer. Mikasa tensed, but remained stubbornly still, eyes raking the factory over as she tried to absorb every detail of her surroundings. Finally, when she heard one of Annie's feet slam against the cement of the factory floor, she started running again. There was no regaining the distance that had been lost, so instead she swerved, ducking behind one of the large metal boxes - a cargo container, it looked like - to place it between herself and Annie. It was then that she finally allowed herself to turn and look at her opponent.

Frustration raged Annie's face. With the beginnings of a snarl and a feverish glimmer in her eyes, it looked like her anger should be a white-hot fury, but something was stopping it from reaching that point. Perhaps, like Mikasa, Annie had spent so much time cool and unreadable that she was no longer sure how to be anything else. Or maybe her fury was hindered by the shard of sadness that she thought she saw lingering in her eyes.

"What is this?" Annie asked. "You never struck me as the type to run away, Ackerman."

With that, Mikasa pulled herself out of her thoughts. It didn't matter what Annie was thinking or feeling. Mikasa would be better off trying not to figure it out either way. Thoughts and feelings didn't matter - they did not stand a chance of changing the course of events. She had to keep her attention on what the other slayer was doing.

The dance was not yet over.

Mikasa took a step backward as Annie stalked toward her, sword held closely to her side.

"I'm not," Mikasa said. "But I've never fought another slayer."

Annie lunged, and Mikasa shot off to the side. She raced toward one of the abandoned machines. The thing had been gutted of any valuable components and had been left standing as a husk, useless as anything but a physical barrier. And that was exactly what Mikasa used it as. She paused when it was in between herself and Annie, catching her breath as the other slayer drew closer. Annie slowed down as she walked, perhaps sensing that Mikasa wasn't going to run again until she was closer. Or maybe she was just saving her energy for when it was time for her to go for the kill.

"Are you scared of me?" Annie asked.

"No," Mikasa said. "I'm not scared of you. I'm..." Angry. Sad. Betrayed. "... Disgusted."

Annie's shoulders stiffened. "You don't know enough to be disgusted."

"I know what you're doing," Mikasa countered as she stepped backward and away from the machine. She didn't dare tear her eyes away from Annie, even to make sure that she was going the right way. "I know who you work for and what they want to do. I know what the slayer is supposed to be. Annie... you aren't a slayer, you're a monster."

A shadow appeared in Annie's eyes. Mikasa took it as her cue to start running. As expected, Annie took off after her, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous factory. Neither of them slowed down or hesitated this time. It was a dead sprint over to the factory wall, where Mikasa's hand closed on a doorknob.

There was no time to feel victory or relief. Mikasa opened the door and shot up the stairwell. The stairs, old, worn, and neglected, creaked in protest beneath her. The sound only increased when Annie followed her. Even so, neither of them stopped or faltered.

There was a landing and a door at the top of the staircase. Mikasa ignored it, instead turning the corner and racing up the second flight of stairs. Above her, she could see two more levels, but three more flights of stairs. The levels had doors that lead out into the factory itself, but the third led up to a small old door that could only lead to the roof. The sight of it made Mikasa find a little extra energy and increase her pace.

A mistake. She stepped a little too hard onto the first step of the fourth staircase and felt it lurch beneath her. Eyes widening in horror, Mikasa grabbed the banister and vaulted onto the step above it. This one also lurched, but she pushed off before she had been on it for more than a few seconds, and the third step remained solid. The first two, however, came falling down with a crash that made Mikasa freeze and look back.

Annie stood stranded on the final platform, wide eyes staring at the missing stairs. They had been large, and the gap left by them was about five feet wide and reaching upward. Her eyes flickered up to meet Mikasa, and for a moment, the two just stared.

Mikasa frowned. Are you scared?

Annie narrowed her eyes and squared her shoulders before taking a few steps back. Mikasa felt her breath hitch and turned back around to keep running up the stairs. She made it up several before Annie jumped and landed heavily on the staircase. The whole thing swayed under the impact, and Mikasa picked up her speed. When she reached the door she charged into it and broke it down with her shoulder, not even caring that she almost fell as she burst out onto the factory's roof, Annie following close behind her.

Not even a full second after Annie escaped onto the roof, a horrendous crash sounded from the entrance, signifying the staircase's collapse.

Mikasa's limbs ached from the chase. No matter how much she wanted to appear unflappable, she could not help but pant heavily. A glance at Annie revealed that she was much the same, or perhaps even worse. The flush across Annie's face, the way her hair fell into her face, the desperate, tired glimmer in her eyes when she raised her head to look at her; she had never seen the other slayer look so ragged. It made her chest twinge with the desire for rest or something else.

She pushed the feeling aside before she could begin to examine it. Both of them needed to rest, but neither would be able to until the other was dead.

Mikasa took several long steps away from Annie as the other slayer straightened her shoulders. When Annie tightened her grip on her sword, Mikasa pulled her stake out of her pocket.

"You lost your crossbow," Annie observed.

"I did," Mikasa said.

"Are you planning on killing me with a stake?"

"Well, you are working with vampires."

Annie took a step closer to her. "You should have brought your sword."

Mikasa took a step back, closer to the edge of the roof. "That thing. Reiner can have it back before I kill him."

Annie's expression darkened. There was a cold, condemning certainty on her face as her eyes slid from Mikasa over to the edge that she was standing so precariously close to. At that moment, Mikasa dove at Annie, stake raised. Then, just as Annie moved to swing her sword, Mikasa pulled back. The sudden movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through the still-healing wound on her stomach, but it was worth it, for the tip of the blade missed her by several centimeters.

Mikasa dropped to the ground and rolled toward Annie, springing up several feet closer to her. Annie turned to counter her, and just before Mikasa could bring her stake down on her neck, her sword rose to slice it in half and send the pieces skittering out of her grasp.

A sword was a strong weapon that built good momentum, but once you get that momentum going in one direction, it could be difficult to redirect it in another. In the fraction of a second that it took Annie to prepare for another blow, Mikasa was able to backstep several feet, until she was only a few feet from the edge.

A flicker of movement on the ground caught her attention. Mikasa dared a glance down at the ground and was greeted by the sight of Bertolt racing toward the factory. Frustration raced through her, but she clamped down on it before it could spill into her expression and make Annie look. She needed to make sure that her eyes stayed on her.

Judging by the look on Annie's face, cold fury mixed with furious desperation, the raw need to survive, that wouldn't be a problem.

Mikasa slid a few feet to the side, along the side of the ledge. Annie followed her movements, priming her sword and drawing one foot back. When Mikasa stilled for a second, Annie thrust her sword out, kicking out to knock Mikasa off-balance when she ducked-

-Except she didn't. Mikasa stood her ground and slapped her palms down on the flat sides of the sword, stopping it not an inch away from her face. Then she leaned to the side and tugged on it, dragging the sword - and Annie - closer to her and the edge of the rooftop.

Their eyes met, and Annie hesitated.

Mikasa did not. She let go of the sword, grabbed Annie's shoulder, and tugged her closer while reaching into her right jacket pocket with one hand. As she moved, she kept her eyes fixed on Annie's face. She saw her eyes widen and her lips part slightly, felt the shudder that ran through her body.

Annie looked down to find her own dagger sticking out of her chest. "Mikasa..." she breathed.

"Annie..." Mikasa tightened her grip on her shoulder. Annie looked up, and where her eyes flickered with the realization that the river had been a trap, Mikasa looked at her and saw everything that could have been. Her fellow slayer. The only person who might be able to truly understand her. Someone who, in another world, may have been able to be something more.

"...Fall."

And she pushed her off the roof.

As Annie fell, Mikasa stood there and stared out at the river in the distance. 

Then a scream sounded. 

She looked down to see Bertolt moving to cradle Annie's body. He looked up, and as their eyes met, Mikasa tensed. The staircase might have given out, but the factory was made of bricks, old, worn, and with many footholds. She had been planning on climbing down. If she could climb down, then a vampire could certainly climb up.

Mikasa swallowed down her exhaustion and prepared for another fight.

Bertolt stared up at her for a few seconds more, then looked back down at Annie. Even from her distance, Mikasa could make out the grief that slipped across his face. There was no more hesitation in his actions after that. He picked Annie up, taking visible care not to jostle her too badly, and ran off.

Mikasa stared for a long moment, confusion melting into something more melancholy. Was this really happening? The answer would seem evident, she could see it playing out in front of her, yet it didn’t quite add up in her head. She was worn out and weaponless, Annie’s sword having fallen with her. Bertolt would have an advantage against her right now. Was he really giving that up in order to… what? To try and save Annie from her mortal wounds, wounds that Mikasa had inflicted? 

It didn’t make sense. Yet as she watched, Bertolt and Annie disappeared over the horizon without the vampire giving Mikasa so much as a parting glance.

It was a pointless effort on his part. Mikasa may not have seen Annie breathe her last, but her fate was sealed nonetheless. If Bertolt turned her, she wouldn't be a slayer anymore, and Tybur wouldn't like that. She also wouldn't be Annie anymore, which would make her easier to kill. And if he didn't... even if she survived, there was no walking injuries like that off.

She wouldn't survive. Mikasa didn't know how she knew, but she knew.

A slayer had died tonight.

With exhaustion radiating through her legs, a tightness in her lungs, and a searing ache somewhere deeper inside her chest, Mikasa allowed herself to drop to her knees. 

That was it, then. It wasn't over, but for now, she supposed she had won. 

Annie was gone.

Chapter Text

Annie walked down a long hallway that led to a white, unmarked door. Discomfort rolled through her with her every step. 

That discomfort was not the same thing as pain. What she was feeling was too disconnected and far away to truly qualify as pain. It didn't catch her attention as much as the faint ripples of blue and purple light dancing over the white walls of the hallway. They were mesmerizingly beautiful, yet the further down the hall she walked, the more they started to feel... wrong.

She came to a halt and followed the light's glow up to the ceiling. Except there was no ceiling. Instead, she saw a mass of blue with purple and white tendrils pulsating and writhing across it. Annie took a step back, eyes widening.

"What on earth..." she whispered.

The mass of energy did not respond. Energy. She didn't know how, but as she stared at it, she knew that was what it was. Except it wasn't just energy, it was something else, something more. It was...

A portal.

Annie reached a hesitant hand up toward the ceiling. However, just as her fingers began to brush at the edges of the light, a voice called out. It was feminine, but otherwise utterly indistinguishable, a thousand different voices speaking as one. "It won't do anything. It isn't time yet."

What? Annie jerked her hand back and turned to look down the hall, toward where the voice had sounded. "Who said that?" she demanded.

The only response she received was another voice, quiet as a whisper, yet resonating throughout her being with an overpowering force the refused to be denied.

" Condition... loss... hemorrhaging..."

Something prickled in Annie's chest. She couldn't tell if it was physical discomfort or fear. Regardless, it pushed on her patience and drove her to start walking once again. "What is this?" she called.

This time, the voice responded. "Don't you remember?"

Annie stopped. "Remember..." 

Annie… 

“...What?" 

Fall.

Memories came crashing over her with the force and coldness of an avalanche. The mission. Mikasa. Reiner. Tybur. Fear. Anger. She'd wanted to prove her worth, so she had gone after Mikasa and let her lure her right into a fight.

They had fought.

She had lost.

And now she was...

Annie blinked back tears and stormed down the hallway with renewed vigor. She refused to believe that this confusing mess was the afterlife, which meant that she was dreaming. There was a significant chance that this was just a random mess produced by her brain as she bled out somewhere, but sometimes slayer's dreams had meaning. Annie had never had a prophetic dream herself, but if there was a chance that this was something more than the end, that there was something else waiting for her behind that door, then she would take it.

The door had a black doorknob. It was oddly warm when she wrapped her hand around it to wrench the door open with all her might. As she did so, the quiet, overpowering, all-consuming voice spoke again, stressed and urgent, just as an undeniable pain sparked in her chest.

" ...Cardiac arrest..."

Annie gasped and staggered through the door with her eyes squeezed shut. The pain dulled as soon as she was through. Not immediately, but enough for her to open her eyes and force herself to stand up a little straighter.

A blank white room greeted her. In its center was a figure . It stood perfectly still, yet was a blur of constant motion as its features changed faster than Annie could register. Its skin color shifted through every shade in the spectrum. Its hair darkened and lightened and grew and lengthened twenty times in the span of a second. It grew taller and shorter, and the constant changing of its features left its face as an indistinguishable blur.

"Who are you?" Annie asked.

The creature ignored her question and said, "You've had a rough time, number two."

A screech cut through the air, and the entire room shuttered.

No, it wasn't a screech, Annie realized with mounting horror.

It was the sound of a flatline.

The creature began to shift through forms even faster. "Maybe the third will be luckier than you."

Annie took a step back and raised a shaking hand to her heart. She didn't care if this was a nonsensical dream or a prophetic one. Prophecies didn't matter if you weren't alive to do anything about them.

Tears began to trickle down her face as an entirely non-physical pain gripped her chest.

Annie knew that she deserved to die. She knew that it was her own emotional recklessness that had brought her here. And yet...

She wasn't ready for it to be over.

A jolt shot through the room.

" Clear!"

Annie fell to her knees.

" Clear!"

The creature stopped shifting. In its place was a young girl, no older than eleven or twelve, with fair skin, brunette hair, and bright brown eyes. She looked at Annie, a troublesome gleam in her eyes, and smile. There was something familiar about the shape of her face, but she couldn't place it at the moment.

"Don't worry," the girl said, her voice high and clear as a bell. "You won't be the one who falls this time."

" Clear!"

For all of her fear and desperation, Annie could not stop her mind from growing hazy or vision from going black.

The girl's voice was the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness.

"Don't sleep too long."

Chapter Text

Mikasa only allowed herself to linger on the rooftop for a few minutes. Despite his initial actions, there was still a chance that Bertolt might return, and while he would doubtlessly be an easier opponent than Annie, she didn't want to take her chances against him right then. Worse yet, Reiner could show up.

Scaling down the side of the factory was difficult. She jammed her toes into the cracks of the wall and grasped at every tenuous handhold and divet she could find. By the end, her toes ached, the palms of her hands were red and chafed, and her fingertips welled with blood. Even so, it felt like it only took a handful of heartbeats, her body moving on autopilot as her mind drifted off elsewhere.

Elsewhere. Nowhere. Mikasa didn't want to think right then. She didn't want to feel anything. It felt like all she could do to simply exist and continue on in that robotic, heartless way of hers.

The sun peaked over the horizon by the time she walked away from the factory. It steadily rose higher as she made her way along the river, back to the path that would lead her to the main road. At first, the light stained the river with hints of pink, but it quickly deepened into a bright crimson. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as it started to turn into gold and orange. However, Mikasa turned back onto the path before it could fully make the shift and get a chance to remind her of anything other than blood.

Once the river was out of sight, it was only a short walk to the main road. None of the cars that she passed while walking along the curb pulled over to question her. She got a few odd looks from the small handful of people she passed once she pulled away from the road and into the residential areas, but none of them actually stopped her.

The part of her that was still attuned to her surroundings supposed it made sense. She had to look bedraggled, with her hair messed up, bits of debris clinging to her shoes, hands held frail at her side, and exhaustion written across her face, but most people wouldn't bother her over that alone. They might be afraid that she looked the way she did because she was violently unstable and would snap at them if they tried anything. Maybe they thought that she might need help, but didn't want to get pulled into a stranger's drama. She could have been left alone for any number of reasons, none of which were truly important. The only thing that mattered was that people were good at finding excuses to mind their own business.

Or maybe they just didn't care enough to reach out. That would be smart of them. In her experience, the ones who did only drowned.

Eventually, her weary footsteps lead her back to Erwin's doorstep. She didn't bother collecting herself before knocking. Consequently, the watcher's eyes widened when he opened the door and took in her state.

"Mikasa," he said. "Did-"

"It worked," Mikasa said. Her voice sounded as numb as she felt. "May I come in?"

Erwin nodded and stepped aside. As he gestured for her to come in, she finally noticed that he was still fully dressed and had the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. It wasn't surprising; between Connie being attacked, his friends being murdered, and planning for the confrontation with Annie, she had known that he probably wasn't going to get too much sleep that night. Seeing physical evidence just made it resonate differently somehow.

It almost made it feel like they were in this mess together, only a thin yet sturdy wall of distrust that stood tall in Mikasa's mind prevented it from feeling real.

"Thanks," Mikasa muttered, slipping in past the door.

Erwin nodded and led her down the hallway. "Let's talk in my office," he said. "Mr. Springer's sleeping in the guest bedroom, and I wouldn't want to wake him."

Mikasa blinked. "Connie's still here?"

He didn't turn around for her to see his expression, but Erwin's tone allowed her to envision his grim smile. "We thought it would be best for him to stay here until we can do a disinvitation ritual on his house."

"Oh," Mikasa murmured. She didn't know exactly what a disinvitation ritual was, but she could make a solid guess based on what she did know. Connie and Reiner had been close from what she'd seen, and Reiner had attacked him at his house earlier that night. If he could actually get inside, then that was a big problem. "Do you need me to-"

"No," Erwin said, cutting her off. "You should remain alert, but for the time being, Hanji and I think it would be best to wait and bide our time in regards to Reiner."

Part of Mikasa's mind was immediately overtaken by the nagging voice of suspicion. Reiner was a violent vampire with a ring that granted him invulnerability who had already killed one of the people he'd called his friend and just attacked another. Why on earth would they wait for him to make the next move? There had to be more to the story, something that Erwin wasn't telling her.

But that was only part of her, and a small part at that. Most of her was caught up in numb, unfeeling static. She allowed it to envelop her, lest she slip into that other part of herself, the portion that was still on the rooftop with Annie. There would be no avoiding it for long though - not when Erwin would need her to recount the battle for him. It created a sense of dread that mingled with the static and slipped into her bones, leaving her unable to truly care about anything else.

She would ask about Reiner tomorrow. For now, she just nodded and murmured, "Alright."

They fell silent as Erwin stopped before a door and opened it, ushering Mikasa inside. It was a small and cozy sort of room. A large, overflowing mahogany bookshelf lined the wall across from the door. It matched the desk that was pushed up against the wall to the right, a desktop computer resting on top of it and a black rolling chair in front of it. The left side of the room was empty aside from some decorative paintings on the wall, a pair of light blue armchairs that sat facing each other, and a side table that sat beside one of them.

Erwin gestured towards the chairs. Mikasa hesitated for only a moment before walking over and taking a seat in the one with the armchair beside it. Erwin took the seat across from it, steeped his fingers beneath his chin, and took a deep breath. "So, Annie-"

"I didn't see her die," Mikasa blurted out. "Bertolt showed up and took her away in the end. I doubt she'll survive her wounds, but I didn't see it happen."

Erwin nodded slowly. "That's good to know. Fortunately, Hanji is rather good with technology; I'll have them keep an eye on the hospital's records. If someone with injuries matching Annie's comes in, we'll know."

"I stabbed her in the chest and pushed her off the roof," Mikasa murmured. "That's... that's what you should be looking for."

The image of Bertolt hovering over Annie flashed behind her eyes. The anguish in his voice as he watched her fall, the care with which he picked her up and carried her away.

The vampire had chosen to help his teammate rather than try to take out a slayer with a disadvantage. That had to mean something, and unlike the matter of Reiner, she couldn't put this off until tomorrow. No matter how much it made her insides ache.

"Do you think they're going to turn her?" she asked.

"I don't know," Erwin said. "It's possible, if Bertolt is attached enough. However, if I had to make a guess, I would say that it's unlikely. A slayer would create an exceptionally strong vampire, which means that she could pose a threat to Tybur if they are unable to control her. Odds are that Bertolt would be punished severely if he turned her, unless he was explicitly ordered to. And if her wounds were truly that severe, it is unlikely that he would have had time to receive such an order. So unless he took her to the hospital-"

"She's probably dead." Not probably. Mikasa had killed Annie; even if she hadn't seen it for herself, she felt it somewhere deep within her stomach. The only question was if she would stay dead. Now that she knew that the answer was 'yes', she swallowed heavily and tried to take comfort in the knowledge. Yet all that it did was make her stomach sore.

"Your plan worked perfectly," Mikasa said, since she felt like she had to say something. Anything to pull her mind away from the factory roof. "She didn't expect me to fight her at close-range. Once we were on the roof, we were both trapped, but Annie thought that she had a bigger advantage than she did."

Mikasa's voice sounded off, even to her own eyes. Too distant and hollow. Her gaze wandered over to the desk across the room, where she allowed it to linger for a moment, hoping that Erwin hadn't noticed. Those hopes were dashed the moment she glanced back at him; the way his eyes softened made it all too clear that he had. "You don't need to give me the details right now," he said.

"It was a fight to the death between two slayers. Won't the council want the details?"

"It can wait," Erwin asserted, voice gentle but firm. "You've been through a lot tonight and I do not wish to push you too far. Besides, if we are going to talk tonight, there is a far more important conversation to have."

Mikasa glanced down at her hands, gently cradled in her lap so as not to further irritate the raw and ragged flesh. Erwin must have followed her gaze, because silence was not allowed to linger between them for more than a few seconds before he said, "Your hands could use some attention. I have-"

"No," Mikasa interrupted, forcing herself to look back up. "I want to talk now."

That was a lie. She had a sense of what Erwin wanted to talk about. and while she understood that it was important, it wasn't a conversation that she wanted to have. Unfortunately, they had to. As such, she wanted to get it over with sooner rather than later.

It had already been a terrible day. She may as well have one more painful conversation before she went to sleep.

"Are you sure?" Erwin asked, concern playing over his face. It was almost odd to see. Between his position as a watcher and the calculating behavior he had exhibited on the few occasions she allowed him to properly strategize with her, she had cataloged him as the ultimate utilitarian, the sort of person who could fully discard his humanity in order to meet his goals. She still wasn't sure that he wasn't that sort of person. However, as she looked into his bright blue eyes, glittering with empathy rather than the cold she expected, she allowed herself to acknowledge that even if he was capable of setting his humanity aside for the greater good, that didn't mean that it wasn't there.

"Yeah," Mikasa said. "I want to talk now. It's important, right?"

Erwin nodded slowly and sat up a little straighter. "It is. I'm sure you've noticed that we have not been doing a good job of communicating with each other. That needs to change, for everyone's sake. However, I also want you to know that it is not entirely your fault. The truth is... you are not my first slayer, Mikasa."

Mikasa froze up. She looked into Erwin's eyes, searching for signs of a lie or some other sort of trick, and came away with nothing. He looked earnest, open, and maybe even a little sad. It was an odd look on him. Odd, yet it set her more at ease than seeing him as a calculating strategist or charismatic ringleader ever had. It made it a little easier for her to ask, "I'm not?"

"No," Erwin said. "It was ten years ago. I was a new watcher, promising and ambitious, but still put too much faith in the council. When I was assigned to a slayer, I didn't do things completely by the book, but I still listened to orders that I shouldn't have.

"Isabel was a spirited young woman. Challenging, too; although she was already aware of the supernatural, she was not found until after she was called, had not received any training as a potential, and wasn't too inclined to work with us. However, she did not come from a good situation. Backed by the council, I offered her and her friends better housing, food, money, and basic amenities in exchange for their cooperation. As I trained her, I waited for her to open up and come to me. Eventually, I did start making progress, but I also failed to properly consider her abilities as an individual rather than just the slayer.

"She excelled in her training. Isabel wasn't just strong, but fast, agile, and brave. She was a natural talent. But she was also impulsive and..." Erwin paused, lips thinning. He eventually shook his head and sighed. "I'm afraid this isn't all my story to tell," he said. "But there were things that I should have seen and didn't. When we reached a certain point in her training, the council decided that they wanted to start seeing results and instructed me to start sending her out on hunts.

"She wasn't ready. I failed to see that, and she was slaughtered on her first hunt. The council was disappointed, but they did not grieve or waste time. You see, they have a method for handling slayers who did not receive training as potentials. Because Isabel was trained under this method and died anyway, she was blamed for her own death and declared a ’dud’. The council poured all resources into the new slayer, a girl named Ilse Langer who had been trained as a potential."

"Was Ilse your slayer as well?" Mikasa asked, her voice numb and distant.

"No," Erwin said, smiling grimly. "The council offered for me to be involved, albeit not as her sole watcher, but I turned them down. I needed time to absorb what had happened with Isabel, see where we had gone wrong, and ensure that it didn't happen again."

"It sounds like you regret it," Mikasa observed.

"I don't let myself regret," Erwin said. "But I do make a point to learn from the past. In a business like this, we owe it to our fallen comrades. If we don't, if we keep repeating the same mistakes, then their sacrifices were for nothing."

Erwin paused for a moment before continuing. "Ilse only lived for a few months. The council wasn't able to locate the new slayer - your predecessor, most likely. We don't know who she was, how long she lived, or how she died."

Mikasa's gaze drifted back to her lap, to her raw, bloody hands. Except it wasn't her hands that she saw as she gazed at them. 

"I've dreamed of her," she said. "After I was called, and a few times after that. I dreamed that I was her." She hadn't seen her predecessor's face, couldn't remember any of the other faces in the dream, and when she woke up, she was never able to remember her voice. But she knew the terror, devotion, and ferocity that she had felt in her final moments. "I think she was killed by a vampire. She... had people she cared about, and she begged for them to be spared if she surrendered. When she was refused, she died trying to protect them."

The dreams had always left her exact situation unclear, but Mikasa never felt the weight of the whole world on her shoulders when her dreams put her in her shoes. Between that and what Erwin said, she couldn't help but suspect that she had never truly taken on the mantle of slayer. She had never seen herself as the protector of the world, only those people that made up her world, and she hadn't even succeeded in protecting them in the end. Yet she had fought with everything she had, and when she woke up, Mikasa couldn't help but think that she had been a hero.

Isabel never got the chance to be a hero. Annie was a monster. And after today, Mikasa was a murderer.

"It sounds like she was very brave," Erwin said.

"She was," Mikasa murmured. She paused, swallowed down the lump in her throat, and looked back up at Erwin. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

"Because I cannot expect you to be open with me if I do not extend you the same courtesy," Erwin replied. The sad glimmer had fled his eyes. Now, they burned with conviction. "When I was offered the chance to be your watcher, I accepted it because I wanted to avoid another Isabel. Although the good of the world is my top priority, please know that I will work with you as an individual and put your strengths, weaknesses, and needs above what the council orders. But I cannot do that if I am not allowed to know you."

Mikasa found herself unable to look at Erwin. She couldn't quite bear to glance back down at her hands either. Instead, her gaze wandered across the room, over to Erwin's desk and chair. As she stared blankly at it, she wondered how many people really knew her. Armin might to some degree, but not fully. She held him at too much of a distance for that. Eren didn't count. Jean, Sasha, and Connie were too new in her life, and after this, probably wouldn't want to be more involved in her life. They shouldn't. Reiner had made a good attempt, but the truth that he wasn't actually a person came out before he could get too far. In a way, she supposed that Bertolt had been the kinder of the vampires. He had been friendly to her, lied to her, but he hadn't been bold or warm or tried to get close to her as an individual. And Annie-

"Mikasa?" Erwin gently prompted.

Annie had fallen. Just like Mikasa had, back on that day.

"I didn't know that another slayer would be called," Mikasa said, her voice coming out as little more than a whisper. "I thought that it didn't matter, since I came back."

"I didn't think that you withheld information maliciously," Erwin assured her. "But it is certainly the sort of thing that would have been valuable to know."

Mikasa was silent for a moment, caught between what she felt she should say and the wall that formed in her throat whenever she thought about saying it. It wasn't just the wall - she didn't want to tell Erwin about that night yet. Even if she was going to try to give him a chance, she didn't trust him in that way yet. She shouldn't have trusted the last person she told about it. Yet her reluctance had already cost them so much. She had to offer him some sort of olive branch.

"What else would you need to know?" she asked instead.

Something like disappointment curdled in Mikasa's stomach. Eren flashed through her mind - both the dead boy, the story that would likely go a long way in convincing Erwin that she was willing to work with him, and the hallucination. The fact that he was working with a mentally unstable slayer was likely just as important as the fact that she had already died. Yet she couldn't bring herself to make him the third person she told about the real Eren, let alone the first that she told about the false one.

She would just have to be careful to make sure that nothing came from this bit of secrecy. Watch her step that much more carefully, stay at the top of her game, make up for all of her mistakes and then some. Make sure that she never got so sloppy that another Annie happened.

Erwin gave Mikasa a long, searching look before speaking. "I trust you to use your own judgment there. But in general, I need to know anything that may affect your ability to serve as the slayer or otherwise pose a threat to your well-being. I need to know when a threat arises and when a development occurs. If you are planning on making an important move, I need to know so that I can plan with you and help you attain the best outcome. You've done a good job tonight, in that regard."

Something heavy formed in Mikasa's chest as she thought of something else she could tell Erwin to earn his trust. Something that had nothing to do with Eren, but everything to do with the events of the night, even if she was a little late with the information.

"What about things that... may not matter going forward, but were important?" she quietly asked.

"Mikasa, if you think it's important, then I have no doubt that it matters."

Not if she's dead, Mikasa thought. Except she was wrong - she realized that as soon as the thought finished crossing her mind. It mattered because it made what she had done, the fact that she was able to do it, that much worse.

"Annie and I kissed," Mikasa whispered. "Only once. Ymir called me the next day. But it happened."

"I see," Erwin murmured, his voice and eyes softening. It gave her the sense that what he said next was true, which in turn made it that much worse. "Mikasa, I am truly sorry."

Mikasa shrugged. It did nothing to ease the weight on her shoulders. "I did what I had to do. And now there will be a new slayer."

"Possibly," Erwin said. "If Annie is dead.  I'll tell Hanji what you told me. With a little luck, we'll have an answer before nightfall."

"She is," Mikasa murmured. "I can feel it."

"If that is the case, then we will begin searching for the new slayer as soon as possible."

"Don't you mean the council will start looking?" Mikasa asked, the words leaving her mouth without her permission. They were cruel and unfair, yet she couldn't help but think of Isabel, pushed too far and burnt out too fast, and Ilse, dead after only a few months. Would this new slayer die just as quickly? Or would she last long enough to experience something that would leave her feeling like little more than an empty shell?

"They will," Erwin said. "But that does not necessarily mean we can't play our own hand."

Mikasa shot Erwin a blank look. However, when she opened her mouth to ask what he meant, a fresh wave of exhaustion overcame her. Whoever the new slayer was, she had already been called. Finding out what Erwin planned to do wouldn't change that, nor was it likely to do anything to alter the course of events whatsoever. "Keep me up to date," she said instead.

"Of course," Erwin replied. "But for now, you should rest."

Rest. It sounded wonderful at that moment, even though she knew that she wouldn't truly be able to get any. Still... it may be nice to lay down, let herself drift off, steal whatever fitful sleep she could. And if she remembered correctly, Erwin had two guest bedrooms. One of them would still be open.

"Alright," she whispered.

*

Mikasa didn't know how long she lay on the bed drifting in and out at sleep. It felt like hours, yet when she heard the slight click of the door opening, it felt like no time at all.

"Mikasa," Erwin called, voice soft yet resonating.

"I'm still awake," she murmured.

"I thought you might be."

At Erwin's words, Mikasa forced herself to sit up and look over at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

7:27 A.M. It had been 7:03 when she laid down.

"Hanji was able to get into the hospital's incoming patients," Erwin continued. "I'm afraid they'll need longer to get any detailed documents, but... a young woman suffering from a stab wound, fractured arm, and severe head trauma was admitted this morning."

Mikasa snapped her head around to look at Erwin. He met her gaze head-on, expression grave and eyes unreadable.

"She's currently comatose," Erwin finished.

"Comatose?" Mikasa repeated. "You mean, she... she didn't die?"

"It would seem not," Erwin said.

"But I thought..."

Mikasa looked down at the comforter and pulled one of her hands up from under it. The hand that she had used to stab Annie. Between that and the fall, she had suffered serious wounds. More than that, Mikasa had felt Annie die, deep in the indescribable part of her that housed the slayer. And now Erwin was saying she hadn't?

"I know," Erwin said. "This doesn't reflect negatively on your judgment or ability. Annie sustained serious injuries, and it was a highly emotional experience for you. Frankly, I would have been more surprised if you didn't think you killed her."

"But I didn't." Mikasa took a deep breath, tried to parse all of the feelings threatening to well up within her, and ultimately pushed them aside and resolved to feel nothing. "At least we don't need to worry about finding another slayer," she said.

Erwin frowned. She thought she saw his eyes flicker, but it could well have been a trick of the light. "No," he agreed. "Not unless she passes."

Right. Because if Annie was comatose, then she had to be in a serious condition even if she wasn't dead. However, death wasn't the only option for a coma patient. There was also that other chance.

"Do you think she'll wake up?" Mikasa asked.

"I don't know," Erwin said. "But from what we gleaned, it seems unlikely."

Mikasa nodded and continued to force herself not to feel anything, clung to the bits of numbness still coursing through her. "Right," she said. "Can I go back to sleep then?"

"Of course," Erwin said.

Mikasa laid back down and closed her eyes when she heard the door close.

When she finally fell asleep, she was greeted by visions of Annie's broken, manic laughter.

Chapter Text

Something was wrong with Reiner. (He had no right to complain.)

It had started when he tried to turn Connie, the cacophony of memories. (It had stopped him from committing one more unforgivable sin.) Screaming and crying and begging and despair - none of which had mattered to him at the time. There were so many people. He'd expected them to all bleed together into a faceless mass of misery. Yet, somehow, he remembered every single one.

(Daz had been a classmate. He'd killed him because he found his frequent whining annoying and doubted that anyone would particularly miss him. Plus his last two victims had been women - it felt like he was due for a man.

He let him cry a little before he broke his neck.)

Not all of them had screamed or cried. He had killed some of them before they could react. (The man by the library.) Others had realized that they were going to die and faced their deaths with dignity. (The blonde woman in the park.) He remembered those ones a little better than the others, yet they all weighed on him with the same ferocity, every memory reaching into his chest and clawing at the heart that he would swear hadn't been there until very recently.

Yet none of them were the worst ones. The worst were the ones like Connie, the ones like Marco. The ones who didn't realize that there was a reason to be afraid until it was too late, who thought they could get through to him, or otherwise made the fatal mistake of seeing him as anything but a monster.

(He had liked Mina well enough, but Annie liked her more. And Reiner decided that that was a problem. Mina was murdered for the sake of keeping Annie focused on the mission, to keep her on track for a fate that he should have tried to steer her away from.

Mina hadn't been scared of him. He tore her throat out before more than the faintest glimmer of shock could appear in her eyes, trust still etched onto her face.)

Bertolt said that it was because he had gotten his soul back. Reiner... sort of understood the implications of that. He had heard stories of previous vampires with souls. At the time, he had been caught between grimacing and laughing at the thought of gutting a vampire of what truly made them a vampire and shoving a human heart back inside. (As if that could actually fix anything.) That knowledge did nothing to help. (He didn't deserve help.) He couldn't truly process it, could barely even think past the nightmarish memories tearing his mind in half.

Reiner could barely think, but he knew that he couldn't just stand there and watch as events played out. He had to act, he had to do something. He had to help in the only way he could.

By making sure that he couldn't hurt anyone else.

He had pulled himself together enough to convince Bertolt to go help Annie, then slipped away the instant he left. Reiner knew that he should have ended it immediately. Instead, he had ended up spending the day stumbling through town, caught between the past and the horrors of what was happening now.

(Mikasa and Annie were both fierce and unrelenting; the battle should be over by now. If Annie won, it would be bad news for the world. If Mikasa won, it would mean the death of someone he called a partner, someone he should have tried to protect.

All of it may have been avoided if he had listened to Marco. Instead, he had killed his friend and rubbed the blood on his hands off on Annie.)

However, his continued existence was only partially because of how disorientated he currently was. A far larger portion of it was owed to the fact that he wasn't alone, even though he looked it. Or at least, he wasn't alone from his perspective.

Reiner usually tried not to talk to or look at his hallucination unless he was by himself. But for the past day, he hadn't been able to bring himself to give a damn, even though it had alarmed Bertolt and confused Connie. It didn't matter though, since both of them had seemed too worried about him to focus on it for long. (They shouldn't have been.) It especially didn't matter now.

A day of wandering brought him to the river as he reached the edge of town. Now he stood at the riverbank, several hundred yards away from the roaring freeway. Too far away for anyone to notice him. Too secluded for anyone to care if he talked to Eren. Which was good, because Reiner knew that the second said or did anything that Eren didn't want him to, he would go right back to making himself very difficult to ignore.

Fine. It was better to get it over with.

There were too many ghosts waiting for him to join them.

(A few years ago, in a city a few states away, his grip on a woman had slipped. She had tried to run away. Reiner had been frustrated, but kept his cool, maintained pursuit, and caught her again. He had been proud of himself at the time.

She begged for mercy when he caught her again, saying that she had a young son waiting for her at home. He didn’t let himself be swayed by her pleading or Eren’s urging; he wanted his next kill to be a woman her age. All he did was offer an empty apology before snapping her neck.)

The sun had set a little over an hour ago. Reiner stared out at the stars reflected in the river and sighed. "I waited too long," he murmured.

"No you didn't," Eren said. He was only standing a few feet away, yet he still took a step closer and reached out to grasp Reiner's shoulder. When his fingers passed through him, he lowered his hand, but his eyes still burned. "You can still go home. Or go to the watchers. You're still alive, Reiner - it's not too late."

Reiner looked at his hallucination and chuckled emptily. "I haven't been alive for a long time. I'm just finishing the job."

He had been dead for almost as long as Eren had been following him. He had first hallucinated him two years after he was turned. At first, he had assumed he was a ghost. That theory quickly fell apart. For one thing, he had never met an Eren Yeager, and it was extremely unusual for ghosts to haunt total strangers. Secondly, when he started running tests, all of them came back conclusive. There were no ghosts in Reiner's vicinity. He wasn't haunted, just insane.

Another secret to keep, especially since Eren promptly made it his mission to keep Reiner from killing as many innocent people as possible. Tybur would have been unhappy to know that one of its pawns was mentally unstable. If they knew that his hallucination was trying to serve as a conscience? He would have been put down on a spot.

(It didn't make him any less vile, but the fact was that a lot of people owed their lives to that hallucination. There had been numerous times when he let a potential victim go because he didn't want to argue with Eren. It wasn't enough though. Reiner had a mission, and he wasn't about to give up on it because some figment of his imagination said so.

Eren had tried to keep him from killing Hannah, but he hadn’t been swayed. He had killed her because it had been a long time since he'd killed a redhead and he didn't want anyone to think that he had a thing for blondes or brunettes.)

"So?" Eren demanded. "You're useless if you're gone. This way, you can actually do something to help."

"This is helping," Reiner insisted. "I can't - I killed people, Eren." So many people. Unable to look at Eren or the river where he'd stored his victim's bodies, Reiner looked down at his hands. They were shaking. He didn't think they'd stopped shaking since his encounter with Connie.

(He had stumbled upon Franz a few hours after he killed Hannah. He had nothing against him, but when he looked at him, he thought that it would be cruel to leave him alive to find out that the woman he loved so much was dead. So he'd drained him dry and dumped his corpse in the same stretch of river where he left hers.

He had thought that he was being kind.)

"Bullshit!" Eren cried. "Reiner, I've seen you pull yourself together after doing far worse things with a soul."

Sheer confusion gave Reiner the push necessary to look back at Eren. Sometimes he said things that didn't make sense, but it wasn't often that he got completely nonsensical. He knew that there was no real point in calling him out on it, that it was probably just a consequence of Reiner's own fraying mind. Even so, he gave him a long, searching look.

All it did was prompt Eren to add, "Don't do this. You can do more for the world if you stay in it."

Eren looked utterly convinced. But Eren wasn't real, and the faith of a hallucination had nothing on the screams of the dead.

(The first time he killed someone, it had been drawn out and sloppy. The woman had been chosen because she happened to be nearby and made for convenient practice. It hadn't held any weight to him whatsoever. 

He had been bothered by how drawn-out and sloppy his first kill was. His victim didn’t scream for long though, since her first screams were so loud that her voice gave out long before she died. That hadn’t bothered him at all.)

Reiner turned back around to face the river and slid the ring containing the Gem of Amara off his finger. "Eren. Thank you for trying to keep me from becoming more of a monster."

Eren made an abortive gesture. "Reiner, don't-!"

Reiner pulled his arm back and flung the ring into the water. It sank beneath the surface with a tiny pling. 

"That was stupid," Eren groused. "You could have used that thing."

"No one should have that thing," Reiner muttered.

(The first thing Reiner had done after being given the ring was hunt down and kill a powerful demon hunter, to prove that Tybur hadn't been wrong to entrust him with it. His opponent was a strong, intelligent man who had done a lot of good in the world, but for all that he put up a difficult fight, the gem had all but decided its ending before it even started.

The hunter had died swearing that something like him wouldn't be allowed to roam the earth. Someone would make him pay for his actions, someday. Reiner had brushed the warning away like dust.)

"So you're just going to let some other vampire find it?" Eren pressed.

Reiner looked over at Eren. He was leaning forward slightly, his eyes wide and jaw grit, a sense of urgency on his face that suggested that he truly believed what he said. It made Reiner's frown grow a little deeper. "I just threw it in the river," he pointed out.

"You really think it's going to stay there?" Eren demanded. "Something as powerful as that? It'll surface before long, or someone will hunt it down, and then there'll be one more unkillable monster roaming the world. Is that what you want?"

A fresh pang of guilt coursed through Reiner, unwavering for all of its irrationality. Amidst the chorus of screams and sins playing out in his head, it didn't stand out enough to force him to his knees, but it did make him unsteady. After a few moments, he clenched his jaw and looked away. "I can't keep it. Like you said, the world doesn't need an unkillable monster." In his peripheral vision, he noticed Eren shift, like he wanted to reach out to him. Before the figment could try to say or do anything, he added, "Besides, it's too late now."

There was a strong current at this part of the river. It would have caught the ring and swept it downstream in a matter of seconds, maybe even less.

(The first person he killed in Paradis had been a student, a young man named Samuel. Reiner had caught him walking by the river. He had killed him because he was by the river, because it gave him an easy way to dispose of his body. When his body wasn't uncovered, he told Annie and Bertolt that all of their victims would be dumped in the river as long as they were in Paradis.

When the sun rose, Reiner would turn into dust, and that dust would float into the same river as the bodies of the people he'd murdered.)

"You can wait for it to resurface and make sure some evil bastard doesn't get their hands on it," Eren said, eyes angry and desperate. "The sun doesn't rise for hours - there's plenty of time to get somewhere safe. It isn't too late to fix this - the ring, the shit you did, all of it. But if you roll over and die now, then you're accepting that you really were just a monster, and you wasted both of our time."

Reiner smiled sadly. He wanted to look away, but this time, he didn't let himself. It burned to look Eren in the eyes, dull gold meeting fiery green, but for all of the people who were still alive because of him, he owed him this much. Even if he was just a figment of his imagination. "Maybe. But I meant what I said. Thank you for trying."

With that, Reiner allowed himself to look back out at the river. Eren was right in that it would be hours before the sun rose, but that was fine. He could wait. (It was the only thing he could do.)

The area lapsed into a quiet that was only broken by the distant roar of the cars on the highway. It lasted for so long that Reiner began to suspect that, despite trailing him ever since his initial breakdown at Connie's, Eren had finally disappeared.

He was proven wrong when Eren spoke up once again. His voice was colder, more distant. It told Reiner that if he looked at him, his eyes would be dull and unreadable rather than bright and passionate. That much wasn't surprising - he had long since grown used to his hallucination's tendency to switch personas without any apparent rhyme or reason. It was his words that made Reiner's blood run cold.

"I thought you would at least want to keep Gabi from getting torn apart by a hell god."

(Almost eight years ago, the Tybur group had descended upon the Braun family in search of a potential slayer. Reiner knew that he couldn't take them, but he did have the opportunity to run. Instead, he hid his younger cousin and let them find him.

Reiner Braun died that night, but Gabi survived. And the vampire that took his place decided that he wanted it to stay that way; alive and away from the people who would hurt her. So through a horrible, convoluted, blood-soaked plan, he painted himself as Tybur's loyal murderer, too heartless for anyone to bother looking too closely at his shadow and see what he was hiding.)

Reiner felt every muscle in his body tense as he turned to face Eren. "Gabi's fine," he choked out. She was. She had to be. How would Eren know if she wasn't? "You're just talking nonsense."

Eren met Reiner's gaze without wavering. "Maybe. But can you really take that risk?" 

(One good deed amidst years of bloodshed - if it could even be called that. So many people killed for the sake of protecting one little girl. It didn't excuse or change what he'd done, didn't make up for it. 

Despite the screams echoing in his head, he didn't even have the decency to completely regret it.

Gabi probably didn't even need him anymore. Without him around, there would be even less of a chance of Tybur finding her. He trusted Pieck to maintain the wards to keep them from tracking her through spells. She was safe, and Eren was just talking nonsense. She was safe, and after all the damage Reiner had done, the only decent thing to do was give himself away to the sunrise. She was safe, and it would be so much easier to just end it now. And yet…) 

… He couldn't.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, Mikasa woke up feeling off. As such, she spent several minutes sitting up in bed, cataloging her state.

Erwin and Armin had been constantly reminding her to get enough sleep.

Her head didn't hurt.

Her throat was fine.

It was easy to breathe through her nose.

Her hand pressed against her forehead didn't reveal anything odd.

Mikasa sighed and slumped back against her headboard. If there was nothing wrong with her physically, then it had to be a psychological ailment.

She wished that she could say that she didn't know what it was from, but that would be a lie. Annie still haunted her dreams every time she closed her eyes. Two weeks and she still hadn't made any significant progress in putting the other slayer behind her. If anything, this suggested that she was only growing more shaken.

It was hard to get out of bed, but she had to. There were too many people who would be worried if she didn't show up for her classes. People who, despite seeing how incredibly unsafe it was to be near her, had insisted on sticking around. People who claimed that they still wanted to be her friends.

She supposed that she would have to decide whether or not she would let them in eventually. Not right now though. If she made the decision now, she knew that she would block them all out, which would make Erwin and Armin say that she was just doing it because she still felt betrayed. Eren probably would too, if he bothered to appear.

Mikasa would decide what to do about everyone eventually. For the time being, she just had to keep going through the motions. Today, that meant hauling herself out of bed, pushing past the unsteadiness that she had almost certainly imagined, getting dressed, and heading to class.

*

During biology, Mikasa began to feel dizzy. She raised a hand to rub at her temple. 

Seconds later, Armin leaned over and whispered, "Are you alright?"

Mikasa gave a tiny nod. "I'm fine."

She would need to do a better job of hiding her weakness, imagined or not.

*

Mikasa didn't have class for several hours. She had wanted to slip away and go back home, but Armin foiled that plan before she could even leave the biology classroom.

"Everyone's going to be meeting up in the cafeteria. Why don't you come too?" He piled his notes and textbook into his bag as he spoke, a small smile on his face.

Mikasa hesitated. It would have been so easy to say no. She wanted to say no, just because she didn't know what she would do if she went. However, the look on Armin's face prevented the word from leaving her lips. It wasn't the whisper of hope in his smile that gave her pause. Crushing it would be unpleasant, it always was, but she was capable of far worse than letting someone down. The thing that kept her from turning down was the hint of determination in his eyes. It made her suspect that even if she did decline, he would find a way to get her to come along anyway.

"I know that everyone would be happy to see you," Armin pressed.

They shouldn't be. They shouldn't have stayed with her, wanted to be friends with her, or anything close to happy to see you. If they were smart, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Jean would have run as far as they could get as quickly as they could. But they hadn't, and somehow, Armin's words were the final blow needed to make her give in.

"I haven't been avoiding them," Mikasa murmured.

"I know," Armin said. "We understand if you need some space as well - you've been through a lot. But that's part of why we don't want you to close yourself off completely."

He didn't outright say that they were worried about her. It didn't really matter, since he had implied it heavily enough that she definitely got the point, but she was grateful nonetheless.

"Alright," Mikasa said. "Lead the way."

Armin offered another smile before leading them both out of the room.

It was a short walk to the cafeteria and an even shorter one from the entrance to the table where her group sat. That didn't mean Mikasa made it there unimpeded. Before she could get more than a few steps out of the entryway, a brown-haired figure stood up and bounded over to her.

Armin offered Mikasa an encouraging smile and picked up his pace, claiming a seat at the table just as Sasha tackled her in a hug. "Mikasa!" she cried.

Mikasa stumbled half a step backward. Her heart jolted, but she steadied her feet and expression before any alarm could show on her face.

"Sasha. You saw me three days ago," she pointed out. Her words were half-muffled by the other girl's hair, which she hadn't bothered to pull back into a ponytail.

Sasha's response was to squeeze her tighter. With a small sigh, Mikasa gave in and hugged her back.

It took nearly thirty seconds for Sasha to release her. When she did, she exclaimed, "I know, but a lot can happen in three days!"

An unwelcome pit formed in Mikasa's stomach. These people shouldn't care about her, but all signs suggested that they did. She should have been distancing herself from them for their own good, yet as she looked at Sasha's earnest expression, she got the distinct impression that it was also cruel to do so.

"Come on," Sasha said, grabbing onto her wrist and tugging her toward the table. Mikasa let herself be dragged along and tried to focus on what was being said rather than what she felt. "We were just talking about - well, it was something really boring, so I forgot, so I guess we'll start talking about something new!"

"Homework," Jean said as Sasha shot down, Mikasa taking the spot beside her. "We were talking about homework, dumbass."

Sasha made a triumphant sound. "See? Totally boring."

"If you graduate, it'll be a miracle," Jean grumbled. A moment later, he shifted his gaze to Mikasa and offered a tentative smile. "Mikasa. How are you?"

"Fine," Mikasa said. "How about you?"

Jean pressed his lips together as he mused on the question. "Coping," he finally said.

Mikasa's gaze dropped down to the table. What was she supposed to say to that? His answer was more honest than the one she had given, but it was too late for her to backtrack and say the same thing. It wouldn't be right even if she did. Jean's best friend had been killed in front of him. All Mikasa had done was fight someone who she'd been foolish to ever believe was anything other than an enemy.

Armin broke the silence with a carefully soft voice. "I think we all are."

"Yeah," Connie said, starting to drum his fingers against the table as he spoke. The drumming was what drew Mikasa's gaze over to him. "That's, uh, that's actually why I wanted to ask." Connie stopped drumming his fingers and paused long enough to draw his gaze up from his lap and meet Mikasa's eyes. "Have you heard anything from Reiner? Or Bertolt?"

Mikasa stiffened slightly, a chill running over her skin. Bertolt and Reiner. She hadn't seen or heard from either of them since her battle with Annie, but that didn't necessarily mean that they were gone. It was far more likely that they were biding their time and waiting to attack her. She ought to say that, to reassure Connie that she was aware of the lingering risk and wouldn't let herself be caught off guard. That she would do everything in her power to make sure that nothing happened to him or anyone else. Yet her tongue suddenly felt heavy, and before she could pull herself together, Jean beat her to the punch.

"What kind of question is that!?" he snapped, shooting Connie a venomous glare.

"A fair one!" Connie exclaimed. "It's been two weeks! Aren't you a little..." He floundered for a second before closing his mouth and looking away. His voice dropped down to a mutter when he continued, "Aren't you a little worried that there might be something else going on?"

"Other than them plotting our grisly deaths?" Jean retorted. "Because I'm already plenty worried about that, but that doesn't mean we need to harass Mikasa about it!"

"I was just-"

"Jean's right," Armin cut in.

Connie shot him a slightly betrayed look.

Armin ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, but did not back down. "He could have worded it better, but he's right." He dropped his hand back to his side and looked up to meet Connie's eyes once again. "If there's any news, Erwin would tell us. You don't need to bring it up to Mikasa."

"H-Hey, I get that we should leave Mikasa alone, but let's not get too upset with Connie," Sasha said, reaching across the table to put one of her hands on his shoulder. "He's probably just worried because Reiner attacked him. In his house! Alone! I can only imagine how scary that was."

"Yeah," Connie murmured, shrugging Sasha's hand off and wrapping his arms around his chest. "Yeah, that's it."

Jean snorted. "He still shouldn't-"

"It's alright," Mikasa interrupted. "You don't need to protect me."

"Someone should!" Jean exclaimed.

Mikasa shot him a flat look.

"I'm - I'm not saying that you need protection," Jean backtracked. "Just that... you're already going through a lot. You don't need this numbskull reminding you of everything as well."

"And you deserve to have someone watching your back!" Sasha chimed in. "Even if Annie didn't... work out... that doesn't mean that you should have to go through everything alone."

Armin didn't say anything. He didn't need to; he'd said similar things so many times that Mikasa couldn't even bring herself to look at him at the moment. She couldn't look at any of them.

"I'm the slayer. It's my job to think about things like this." As she spoke, Mikasa kept her gaze lifted up and straight ahead. If she didn't look at anyone, she wouldn't falter. If she didn't falter, she was safe.

"Still, Jean's right," Connie said. He had gone back to looking down at the table and his voice was loaded with discomfort. Even so, he didn't sound insincere, just like he'd rather not be there right now. "I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm sorry, Mikasa."

"It's fine," Mikasa repeated.

It wasn't, but it should have been. So she would just keep repeating it until it was. 

"Alright," Sasha said, more loudly than was strictly necessary. "Now that that's over, what's everyone doing toni- uh... Mikasa?"

Mikasa rose to her feet without paying Sasha much attention. Her attention was locked onto the petite blonde making her way to a table a few yards away.

"Oh," Armin said, following Mikasa's gaze. "When did she start coming back to class?"

"I don't know," Mikasa murmured. Most of them had started going back to class a few days after Annie's hospitalization, but they hadn't been caught galavanting with a vampire. She had almost expected Krista to drop out completely. Yet there she was, sitting down for lunch like everything was normal.

"Oh! Krista!" Sasha exclaimed. "I haven't seen her in art class. She couldn't just go back to class after being away for so long, could she?"

"I'm going to find out," Mikasa said. Armin moved to follow her as she stood up from her seat. However, she shook her head at him and said, "Alone."

Armin frowned, but slowly sat back down. That left Mikasa free to approach Krista.

It didn't take long for Krista to notice her. She tilted her chin up and looked her in the eyes. Mikasa almost expected her to get up, either to leave the cafeteria or to move to a table with other people, somewhere that she couldn't be easily interrogated. Instead, she held her ground, not even flinching when Mikasa sat down across from her.

"Krista," Mikasa greeted. "How's Ymir?"

Krista smiled thinly. "Better, now that she isn't being hunted for something that she didn't do."

Something bitter swelled up in the back of Mikasa's throat. "She's still a risk."

"Everyone is a risk in one way or another," Krista retorted. "Ymir hasn't done anything wrong, and I won't let you hold her existence against her."

"What would you do if I did?"

“Why don’t you make it easier on both of us and not find out? It’s your call, after all."

It was, wasn't it? Erwin might disapprove of whatever she decided, but at the end of the day, she was the slayer. If she decided that she didn't want to kill Ymir, then that decision held weight. But that still left one very important question up in the air.

"Why should I give her a chance?" Mikasa asked.

Krista's response was steady and confident. "Because Ymir would make a better ally than enemy."

The bitter taste in Mikasa's throat worsened. She had already let vampires near her once, even if she hadn't known it, and lives had been lost because of it. Now Krista wanted her to put her trust in Ymir? 

Mikasa felt a stinging sort of incredulousness at the notion. Rather than expressing it to Krista, she kept her voice and expression carefully neutral as she asked, "You think she would help me?"

"I can't make any promises, but if I ask her, she might."

"Don't bother. Slayers shouldn't work with vampires."

Krista's expression softened. It was very convincing. When paired with the stony resolve that she had just been displaying, it made Mikasa wonder just how skilled of a liar she was dealing with. After all, the sweetest girl in Paradis wouldn't defend a vampire so ardently if that was what she truly was. Not if she had even the faintest clue as to what those creatures were actually like. Either Krista was willfully ignorant, or she wasn't as innocent as she pretended.

But she wasn't going to completely drop her act just because Mikasa was onto her. "I'm sorry about Annie," she said, voice overflowing with something that sounded like sympathy.

I don't know what she has to do with this. Mikasa caught herself just before the words could leave her lips. That would lead to a conversation that she didn't want to have. Let Krista think whatever she wanted. There were more important things to deal with.

"When did you start going back to class?" Mikasa asked.

"About two weeks ago," Krista said. "Your friends probably didn't see me because I changed some of my classes."

"You're avoiding us."

"You want to kill my girlfriend." The words sounded like they should be hard, yet Krista still kept her voice sweet and innocent. "Wouldn't you do the same thing, in my position?"

No. She wouldn't. The girl stuck slumbering in the hospital was proof enough of that.

Mikasa frowned off into the distance and considered her next move.

If Ymir was killing people, then Mikasa would have to kill her either way. But on the off chance that Krista was right, then that was one fight that she could at least put off until a little while later, when she could better handle it. With Bertolt and Reiner still missing and the threat of Tybur lingering on the horizon, that was an opportunity that she might not be able to afford to let go.

Mikasa avoided answering Krista's direct question. Instead, when she re-focused on her, she said, "If Ymir really isn't killing anyone, then you don't have any reason to be scared."

Krista's eyes lit up. "I'm happy to hear you say that."

"If she isn't killing anyone," Mikasa stressed. "If she is, then I'll have no choice but to kill her."

A vampire like Ymir was dangerous enough that she might not be able to leave her alone forever even if she wasn't hurting anyone, but there was no benefit to telling Krista that. For now, she stood up and walked back over to Armin's table, where she deflected all questions about Krista, listened to some idle conversation about homework, and declined an invitation to go out clubbing with Sasha.

She went through the motions until she got the opportunity to go home.

*

A vampire nearly broke her arm on patrol the next night.

Her initial blow with her stake hadn't been hard enough. The weapon got caught on the breastbone, and she had to strike it a second time to send it through to the heart. However, there was a delay between a stake hitting a vampire's heart and the creature actually dying. It was only a few seconds, but in that time, the vampire grabbed her free arm and began to twist. Mikasa had experienced worse pain in the past, but the sheer helplessness that she felt at that moment made the tearing of muscles and ligaments feel like absolute agony.

The vampire collapsed in a pile of dust just before her arm could give out completely. Mikasa headed home immediately after, cradling her arm to her chest and reeling from a few seconds that had felt like an eternity.

It galled to give up a patrol so early, but she knew that anything else would be foolish. The problem wasn't that the vampire had been anything special. It was exactly the opposite. Even as she struggled and writhed to break out of his grip, she could tell that he was only about as strong as the ones that she usually fought. The problem was that Mikasa was weaker.

This part, at least, she knew she couldn't be imagining.

She had just locked the door to her apartment and was heading over to the kitchen when Eren appeared in the corner of her vision. He immediately ran in front of her, eyes glued to her arm and expression glued to her arm. "Mikasa! What happened!?"

Mikasa didn't offer him so much as a glance. "Shouldn't you already know?" she asked.

Eren took a step back. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around much," he said. His voice told her that his expression would probably be hurt or ashamed if she looked. She didn't. "I've just been-"

"It doesn't matter," Mikasa said. Because it didn't. If her stabbing Annie had done something to make her hallucinate less frequently, then that was a good thing. It was a good thing, even if, as the days dragged on with her barely catching a glimpse of Eren, she started to wonder if maybe she wasn't seeing him because Eren, the real Eren, wouldn't have wanted to save a murderer. Those feelings didn't matter. Nothing involving Eren did.

Eren wasn't having that. He stepped closer, until he was hovering right over her injured shoulder, and said, "It does matter, and I'm sorry. I've just been... busy."

"You aren't real," Mikasa reminded him as she opened the bathroom door. He followed her in. She only offered him a brief look before turning her attention to the first aid kit. She unlatched it, a clumsy process with one hand, even with her ambidexterity, and pulled out a roll of ace bandages.

Eren was quiet for a moment before trying to speak again. "I-"

Mikasa didn't let him. "You aren't." She closed the lid of the toilet with her foot, sat down, and began the tedious process of unraveling the roll of bandages. As she did, she added, her voice a low murmur, "So you should already know what happened."

The bathroom fell silent. It lasted until she began to wrap her arm, at which point Eren murmured, "You should call Erwin."

Mikasa stiffened. "What?"

"Your arm will be bandaged better if someone else does it." Mikasa looked up at Eren just in time to see something dark flicker across his expression as he added, "He wants to help? He can start with that."

Any animosity Eren felt toward Erwin was just a reflection of Mikasa's own lingering suspicions and doubt. She knew that. That didn't stop her from feeling a whisper of irrational curiosity. Just a whisper, but that whisper gnawed at her self-control and caused her to look at Eren for longer than was strictly necessary, the question lingering at the tip of her tongue.

It was a good thing that Mikasa had a lot of experience pushing down needless questions. She didn't want to interact with her hallucination and further fuel her mental instability tonight, no matter what Eren said or did. She was, however, willing to admit that her subconscious made a good point. Erwin had already told her that he'd prefer she came to him when she was seriously injured.

More than that, he was a watcher. It wasn't a guarantee that he would know what was wrong with her, but she wasn't going to dismiss the possibility. Not tonight, when she had just come so close to yet another failure.

Mikasa set the bandages down, pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, and called Erwin.

*

It barely even took fifteen minutes for Erwin to reach her apartment. He brought his own first aid kit with him, which he laid out on the coffee table as he sat down on the couch and got to work splinting Mikasa's arm almost immediately. Splinting, not wrapping. He insisted that even though it wasn't broken and Mikasa was a fast healer, she should keep it as steady as possible for at least the night in order to ensure that it healed properly. The splinting process was uncomfortable, but admittedly not as bad as it probably would have been if she had tried to take care of it herself.

Then Erwin asked what happened.

Mikasa didn't start with the patrol gone wrong. Instead, she backed up a few days, to when she had first started feeling a little unusual, but brushed it off. Then she told him about how she felt distinctly off the day before and written it off as a psychological effect. She did not tell him about talking about Ymir with Krista. She would later - she had to if they really were going to work together - but not yet. That had to be a separate question. Right now, she wanted to focus on the problem at hand, on the off chance that Erwin might be able to do something about it.

She hadn't expected him to know anything. Yet his expression subtly shifted as she spoke, all of the warmth draining out to leave something cold and grave. By the time she got to telling him about the patrol gone wrong, the dark expression had been joined by a knowing gleam in his eyes. The sight of it set her on edge.

Eren, who had remained stalwartly hovering over her shoulder the entire time, was the first one to put her suspicions into words. "He knows something."

Yes. He did. He didn't particularly look like he was trying to hide it either.

Unease prickled at Mikasa's gut, the fateful question of if she had made a mistake by deciding to properly work with Erwin, to try to trust him. Doubt had been lingering the whole time, but for the decision to potentially backfire so fast... just how naive was she?

If she had made a mistake, was it too late to fix it?

If she didn't confront it, it definitely would be.

Mikasa's voice came out cold and even when she asked, "Erwin. What's going on?"

Erwin's voice was just as level, but laden with thought and a hint of something darker. "It sounds like you are being prepared for a Cruciamentum."

Cruciamentum. She had never heard the word before, yet it sent a chill up her spine and made a pit form in her stomach. Both sensations mingled uncomfortably with the dread and certainty rising within her, the undeniable feeling that something bad was about to happen.

"What the fuck is that?" Eren snarled, stepping up to stand beside the arm of the chair. He crossed his arms and leveled a glare at Erwin. When he didn't get a response, his expression grew a fraction darker.

For her part, Mikasa shot Erwin a questioning look. That was enough to get him talking again.

"The Cruciamentum is a test that is usually given to the slayer when she turns eighteen." Erwin paused, his jaw clenching and something hard appearing in his eyes. "Mikasa. Before I continue, I want you to know that I specifically told the Council that I do not want you to be subjected to this. What is happening is being done without my knowledge or consent."

"Without your consent," Mikasa repeated. Her voice sounded hollow to her ears, although that might have been because she could barely perceive it past the ever-intensifying feeling that she had been right, that she had made a mistake. "What about mine?"

Erwin raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. "I... am truly sorry that you had to find out like this, but telling you anything but the truth would only do more harm." He lowered his hand and met Mikasa's gaze with eyes that burned with condemnation. "The watcher's council does not care about the well-being of the slayer. To them, you are a replaceable part to be pushed to your limits and replaced by your successor when you finally burn out. Your consent does not matter to them - only confirming that you are strong enough to justify the continued use of their resources."

"You really are a devil," Eren muttered.

Mikasa wished she could say that she was surprised. Since she wasn't, she was left wishing that she had clung to her suspicion a little more strongly.

"And what about you?" she asked. "Am I a replaceable part to you as well?"

It felt like a pointless question. For one thing, she knew that she wouldn't be able to believe Erwin no matter what his answer was. For another, she wasn't so certain that she wasn't. Wouldn't it have been better if a third slayer had come around to replace her and Annie? After all the mistakes she had made, she couldn't help but wonder if someone else might be able to do a better job. If Annie passed away...

...If Annie passed away, an innocent person would be dragged into this bloody, miserable, cruel world and left with no way out. Even if the slayer was replaceable, the calling of a new slayer was not something to celebrate. Yet the way Erwin phrased it, a test to see if the slayer was worth the continued use of the council's resources, made it sound like they were willing to speed the process up.

"I believe that you have a duty to humanity," Erwin said, his voice cutting through Mikasa's thoughts and tethering her to the present. "As a watcher, I would ask you to do everything in your power to fulfill your duty, even at the cost of your life. But I also believe that it is important to remember that the slayer is a human being. If the council was more willing to work with the slayer as an individual rather than a weapon, I believe that they would live longer lives and do more good.

"People grow and learn from their mistakes if they are given the opportunity to do so. The council's handling of the slayer often robs them of the opportunity." Erwin did not pause in his speech, but a hint of anger slid into his expression and voice as he continued. "I was openly opposed to putting you through a Cruciamentum not only because I feel that you have already proven yourself, but because the practice is needlessly cruel and wasteful."

"So they're doing this without asking you," Mikasa said. She knew that he had already said as much, but she had to ask again. To reconfirm. If he was going to lie, then she wanted to force him to lie to her face. If he was telling the truth... she had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth. Truly, she just wanted to hear the words, even if they would bring no comfort.

"They are," Erwin confirmed. "I will try to stop them, but I cannot promise that I will be successful. In which case, we will take precautions to avoid it, but there is a chance that you will have to face the Cruciamentum."

"Bastards," Eren whispered. "Why is it always..."

Mikasa shot Eren a subtle glace. He clenched his jaw and looked away.

"Will they still do it if they know that you told me?" Mikasa asked, turning her attention back to Erwin before he could question her staring at nothing.

"Most likely, yes. They would also replace me with someone who they know will comply with their demands. There is, however, also a chance that they would automatically mark you as a failure and assassinate Annie in order to activate a new slayer."

Mikasa swallowed heavily and looked down at her hands. For a moment, she saw them covered in blood and clutching a knife.

Annie. Trapped in that bed with no guarantee that she would ever wake up, she didn't know how much the rogue slayer could be said to be alive. But she also wasn't dead, despite how hard Mikasa had tried. She wasn't dead, and even though she was the one who had put her in that bed, she didn't want her death to come at the hands of people who saw them as nothing more than expendable tools. Despite all that she had done, she deserved better than that.

"And if I pass?" Mikasa asked. "Will they send someone after her if I pass?"

Erwin shook his head. "The council has no way of knowing who the new slayer would be. It may be one of their girls, but it could just as easily be someone who hasn't received any prior training, or even another rogue slayer. They won't take that risk if it isn't necessary, and they won't think it is if you pass the Cruciamentum."

"Another rogue slayer," Mikasa murmured. "Have you told them about Tybur?"

"Not yet."

Mikasa's head snapped up. Why? she wanted to ask. Why hadn't Erwin told the council about Tybur? Better yet, why did they assign him to be her watcher if they knew that he couldn't be depended on to work with him? He had said that he told them that he didn't approve of the Cruciamentum; why hadn't they replaced him already? What did he get from all of this? There were so many questions that she wanted to ask, yet there was no real point in asking them when she knew that she wouldn't be able to bring herself to trust anything he said. In time, maybe. But right now... right now, the fact that he was willing to say that he would ask her to die if needbe was the only thing preventing her from writing everything he said off as a lie.

None of those questions mattered right now anyway. Whether he was a liar or not, the fact remained that Erwin Smith was the only one with the power to do anything to help her in her present situation. That left her with no options other than striking out on her own or take the risk that he was going to walk her right into a betrayal. And in her current state, that was the same as having no options at all. Which ultimately meant that there was only one question that she should care about asking right now.

"What happens in a Cruciamentum?"

Erwin frowned and leaned forward slightly. "First, the slayer is stripped of her abilities."

Mikasa stiffened. Erwin noticed it and waved a reassuring hand. "It is only temporary. Normally it is done through chemical means, but since no one who is working with them has had physical contact with you, they must be using magic."

"How long can they keep it up?" Mikasa asked.

"Not for long," Erwin said. "They must be using powerful magic, but they wouldn't work with anything strong enough to risk damaging or altering the slayer line as a whole. That means that they probably have to refresh it frequently. Considering the drain of resources, they'll probably give up if they cannot perform the Cruciamentum within a week or two."

Mikasa looked back down at her hands and clenched one of them. "If that happens, will they come after me and Annie?"

"No. Not for something that is decidedly their fault."

Mikasa nodded. It wasn't quite a relief to know that she would go back to being herself if she managed to outlast the Council. There were too many threats lingering ahead of her for that. It was something though, so she held onto it, tried to wring a little bit of hope out of it. Instead, it only made her feel empty.

She pushed forward anyway.

"And if they succeed?" She asked, looking up and leaning a little closer to Erwin as she spoke. "What happens in the Cruciamentum itself?"

"You will be captured and taken to a secure location where the Council can monitor you. It will be heavily fortified so that neither you nor your opponent can escape. There, you will be made to fight a demon - typically a powerful vampire. You pass if you kill the vampire without your slayer abilities or any weapons other than what you can get from your surroundings. You fail if your opponent kills it."

"I see," Mikasa murmured. And she did. It was a test to see if she would be able to take demons out even if she wasn't the slayer, to make sure that they weren't just throwing their support behind a thoughtless wall of muscle. She supposed that she would probably be able to see the sense in it if she wasn't stuck wondering just how many girls had been killed in this test.

"It's a deathmatch," Eren growled. "They're supposed to be better than Tybur, but they're matching their slayers compete in deathmatches."

Mikasa's stomach churned uncomfortably. "If that's all, can you leave?" she asked, shifting a few inches away from Erwin. "My arm hurts, and I'd like to rest."

It wasn't quite a lie. Her arm did hurt; she'd just barely noticed it over the course of their conversation.

Erwin stared at Mikasa for a long moment before nodding. "Alright," he said, "but I will come back with Levi and Hanji tomorrow morning. If we want to stop the Cruciamentum from happening, we need to come up with a plan. We'll also need to take precautions to make sure that nothing happens to you in your weakened state."

Mikasa nodded. Erwin watched her for a moment later before standing up and letting himself out, leaving Mikasa alone with Eren.

There was silence for several long moments. Then, slowly, Eren walked around to stand in front of Mikasa. "I really am sorry that I haven't been around more," he said, voice soft. "There's just... a lot happening, and I can't be."

"I know," Mikasa murmured. After all, there was a lot happening. Maybe her brain was just so overwhelmed that she couldn't hallucinate as often.

"You aren't alone though," Eren added. "Even when I'm not here, you can still go to Armin or Sasha or Connie, or even horseface. You can still..." He offered her a shaky smile. "You can still live your life and be happy. You've never needed me for that."

Mikasa sighed and looked away. She knew that she could live her life without Eren; she'd been doing it ever since she drowned. What the hallucination was saying didn't even make sense, there was no point in getting emotional about it. Which made the painful pang in her chest as agitating as it was uncomfortable.

"Eren," Mikasa said, voice even.

"Yeah?"

"If you need to go, just go."

Eren faltered. "I... do," he admitted. "But I'll come back whenever I can. I won't leave you alone for this, Mikasa."

With that, Eren disappeared.

Mikasa leaned back into the couch, closed her eyes, and allowed herself not to think about anything for a moment.

Chapter Text

The demon lashed out at Mikasa with a great clawed hand. She ducked and somersaulted backward. The tip of the demon's claw skimmed her hair, but didn't break skin or draw blood.

Mikasa had made similar maneuvers many times in the past. This time, however, her lower back ached from rolling over the rough cemetery ground. Worse yet, when she stood back up, she wasn't as far away from the demon as she'd hoped. The demon advanced, too fast for her to stand any real chance of running away in her current state. That left her with one option. Mikasa aimed her crossbow at the demon and readied her shot-

- only for Levi to spring up behind the demon, wrap one arm around its neck, and slit its throat.

The demon fell to its knees with a wet gurgle. Dark blue blood poured from its wound to cascade over mottled orange skin. It twisted around to aim a sluggish swat at Levi, who easily stepped aside. His gaze was stuck on his dagger. It was a short, simple thing, completely unremarkable aside from the demon blood clinging to its blade.

"Disgusting," Levi muttered. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped it off.

Mikasa scowled. "You didn't have to do that."

Levi snorted. "Didn't I?" He pulled the dagger out of the handkerchief and gave it a quick inspection before nodding to himself and tossing the fabric over his shoulder. It was only then that he trained his utterly unimpressed expression onto Mikasa. "You didn't put enough distance between yourself and the demon. What would you have done if it had caught up to you before you could fire?"

"It wouldn't have," Mikasa said. It was going to be close, but she would have been faster by a fraction of a second, which was all she needed.

"Maybe if the situation stayed the same," Levi said. "But what if that thing made a move you didn't expect? You would've been shit out of luck." The demon hunter scowled and shook his head. "You need to stop patrolling."

Mikasa bristled. "That's not your choice to make."

"No? Then why do you think Erwin's been making me go with you for the past week?" Levi asked.

She knew why. They both knew why, and that was the worst thing about the situation. Erwin wanted someone there to help her in case something went wrong, and she wasn't strong enough to get herself out of it; he'd told her as much the morning after he told her about the Cruciamentum. She didn't like it, but also couldn't deny that Erwin had a point.

Patrolling with Levi was an infuriating cycle of unrequested critique and unnecessary comments in between actually fighting vampires and demons. Because those fights were getting harder and harder, she had tolerated it so far. But outright saying that she couldn't patrol anymore? That was crossing a line.

Mikasa turned to walk deeper into the graveyard. "That's Erwin's call, then. Not yours." The words stung to say. She was the slayer; it should be her call. Yet she could not deny that even if she was being manipulated, listening to Erwin was probably her best chance at getting out of this alive. No matter how much it grated.

At least it was better than giving Levi the satisfaction of letting him take her out of action then and there.

Behind her, Levi scoffed. "Sure, let's take it to Erwin. See what he says."

*

Erwin agreed with Levi. 

Of course he did. For all that Levi grumbled about the council, Mikasa had noticed just how much faith he had in Erwin. It made sense that Erwin would trust the midget's judgment in return, no matter how much she wished he didn't. 

Mikasa had spent the last week growing more and more weighed down by the feeling of her slayer abilities fading further. Her reflexes were growing slower, her hits weren’t landing as hard, patrols left her aching like never before, and bruises formed easier. Pain had even started to feel more acute, possibly a side-effect of residing in a body that was so much more fragile.

With that fragility came a sense of uselessness, worthlessness close on its heels. Now, those feelings combined with anger and turned into a toxic solution that clawed at her heart and mind, as if it were a conscious thing that was actively trying to drive her insane. A slayer who couldn’t patrol unaccompanied was bad enough. What was the point of a slayer who didn’t patrol at all? Who was too weak to uphold her duty.

Mikasa burned to do something, to find a solution to make all this stop and switch everything back to normal. Or at least, to make her strong again. But she couldn’t. She couldn't do anything about it other than work on her homework, chat with Armin, respond to Sasha's texts, and wait for the council to give up on their test. 

The frustration wasn't actually the worst part of it, nor was the lingering cloud of dread and darkness. The worst part was that she couldn't even pretend that Levi and Erwin were wrong. She had wanted to, but when she was dropped off at her apartment after receiving Erwin's verdict, the harsh reality of the situation had come crashing down upon her. 

She didn't just feel fragile. She was. 

*

The quiet of the hospital allowed minds to drift. In Mikasa’s case, it made her wonder what her life would be like if she wasn’t the slayer.

What she was currently going through did not offer her a glimpse of that life, not truly. If she wasn't the slayer, she would be used to being no stronger than the average human, not keenly aware of how vulnerable she was.

If she wasn't the slayer, she would be wistfully oblivious to the terrors on the horizon rather than suffocating under a cloud of dread.

If she wasn't the slayer, Annie Leonhart might not be in a coma.

None of those would have been good things, of course. ‘Ignorance is bliss’ was a phrase used by people too afraid to face the crueler parts of the world they lived in. Even so, she couldn't forget or ignore the ignorance she had lost, especially now that she stared down at her fellow slayer in her hospital bed.

Beside her, Armin shifted and let out a heavy sigh. "This feels... wrong," he said.

Mikasa shot him a questioning look.

"Seeing her like this," he elaborated. "Annie always seemed so strong, but right now, like this, she looks..." Armin looked away. Mikasa followed his gaze back down to Annie's sleeping form.

Annie had looked like a nightmare the first time Mikasa saw her. She had been a mottled mess of swollen bruises, black and blue and green interrupted by patches of red where blood vessels rose to the surface. It had stretched across her forehead and down the sides of her face, where they mingled with the ones covering her chest. It had taken Mikasa’s breath away in the worst of ways. Her legs had gone weak and her stomach had lurched hard enough that she was nearly sick.

Now, the swelling had gone down and the bruising had faded, but Annie hardly looked any stronger than she had on that day. Her lips were chapped and thin. Her hair, fanned out around her like a halo, seemed thinner and duller than before. Limbs that held untold strength looked smaller as they lay limply on the bed. With the bright blue of her eyes hidden behind closed lids and a white hospital gown to wash any remaining color away, it all added up to make her look like a porcelain doll.

Fragile.

"You didn't need to come," Mikasa pointed out.

Armin took a few shuffling steps over to one of the chairs beside Annie's bedside. "No," he admitted, sitting down. "But neither did you."

"It's important to keep an eye on her; in case she wakes up."

"The watchers can do that."

An uncomfortable lump rose up in Mikasa's throat. It brought with it ice, which spilled into her voice when she spoke. "You trust the watchers?"

"I trust that Erwin and Hanji will do what is best for the greater good."

Mikasa looked at Armin. He was still staring at Annie, his expression focused and thoughtful. It made her want to ask questions, but she didn't know exactly what. It all felt pointless anyway. She was going along with Erwin because she knew he was her best shot at survival, but if there was anyone whose judgment she actually trusted, it was Armin's. 

In a world where she wasn't the slayer, she probably would have let him closer. He would be involved enough in her life that she would be able to seek his advice far more often. His judgment would be a familiar comfort rather than a precious gift.

Armin leaned forward and took Annie's hand before speaking up again. "Truth be told, I just don't want her to be alone. Did you know that aside from Hanji, we're the only ones who've been in to visit her?"

Mikasa stared at Armin and Annie's hands. A whisper of an impulse rose up within her, a compulsion that pushed her to make a similar gesture. She crushed it down like a bug. "There's a reason for that. We don't owe her anything."

"I know," Armin said. "It's just... did you know that some coma patients are still aware of their surroundings? They can hear the things going on around them. I thought, if that's the case with Annie... I wouldn't wish that sort of loneliness on anyone."

Something in Mikasa's chest lurched uncomfortably. "Do the doctors think she's aware?"

She had watched as Armin spoke with one of the doctors earlier. Curiosity had risen within her, yet she hadn't dared come close enough to listen in on the conversation. Hearing it relayed by Armin was one thing, but actually speaking with the doctor was another entirely. Mikasa was the one who had put Annie in her coma - she didn't need to listen to the exact details of the destruction she had wrought. Besides, she had a sneaking feeling that the hospital wasn't supposed to disclose that sort of information to Armin. Armin may have been good at getting people to talk, but her? She didn't want to butt in and risk them clamming up.

"No," Armin murmured. "They still don't... They don't think she's going to wake up."

Mikasa nodded. "Makes sense." Just because Annie didn’t look as bad now as she had before didn't necessarily mean that the damage was gone. That was without taking the stabbing into consideration. The fact that the doctors had been able to keep her alive came dangerously close to a miracle. It was difficult to imagine that any normal person would have survived. Certainly, no normal human being would stand a chance of waking up.

But Annie wasn't a normal person.

"We can't take that for granted though," Mikasa added. "Annie's a slayer. She might still wake up."

"I agree," Armin said. "She already looks like she's been recovering faster than normal."

Did she? Mikasa couldn't tell. The chapped lips, the limp limbs, the splayed hair and closed eyes - it painted such a stark image that it became impossible to look beyond it and see any improvement. To see anything but a broken body, a wasted life, a slayer stripped of her strength and turned into nothing more than an empty shell.

Mikasa had done this.

It may not be irreversible; she had just said as much. Annie might wake up, and if she did, they would fight once again, and Mikasa would be forced to put an end to the threat of the rogue slayer once and for all. It was one of the many things that she had to be on guard for. Yet as she stared at Annie, even knowing the strength and the healing capabilities of a slayer, she couldn't picture the broken girl before her ever getting out of that hospital bed.

A lock of hair was sprawled over Annie's face, near her eyes. Unthinkingly, Mikasa reached forward to brush it away.

She caught herself and lowered her hand just before her fingertips could make contact with Annie's face.

"Mikasa?" Armin whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Do you... Do you want her to wake up?"

Mikasa began to look away, only to force herself to keep her gaze on Annie. If she woke up, she would probably have to kill her. And this time, she would make sure to finish the job.

But... what if she didn't kill her? What if Annie didn't have the will or energy to fight after coming so close to dying? What if she had learned from her mistakes? What if she tried to be a better person, to make up for what she had done? Under the right circumstances, with the right precautions, maybe... maybe she could give her a second chance.

Mikasa snapped her gaze away from Annie. She's a murderer, she reminded herself, the words taking the tentative hope that had started to form and shattering it into a thousand shards. There was no going back from what Annie had done. Even if she woke up, even if she wanted to change her ways, there was no going back for a murderous liar like her. She would not get a second chance because she didn't deserve one.

Neither of them did.

"No," Mikasa said, voice cold and firm. "I hope she never wakes up."

It would be better if she never woke up.

"I see," Armin murmured.

Mikasa didn't dare ask if Armin wanted her to wake up. She thought that she knew what he would say, and she wasn’t sure how she’d handle hearing it. Instead, she walked over to the seat on the other side of Annie's bed, across from Armin, and sat down.

They sat there, silent save for the heart monitor’s rhythmic beeps until the rays of light pouring through the tiny window embedded in the wall turned orange. Mikasa looked out and saw the sun setting on the horizon.

"We should get going," Mikasa murmured.

A glance at Armin revealed a reluctant expression. Even so, he gave a tiny nod when he looked out the window. "I can call Levi to pick us up."

"No." The word flew past Mikasa's lips before she could think to stop it. Yet when Armin turned to give her a surprised look, it was not doubt or shame that she felt, but bitterness. First she was too weak to patrol on her own. Then she was too weak to patrol at all. Now, she was facing the possibility of letting that sour midget ferry her home, as if she couldn't walk a few blocks on her own. Mikasa pursed her lips. "My apartment is only a few blocks away. We can get there before the sun sets."

As long as they got back before sundown, they wouldn't have to worry about vampires. There was always a chance that they would run into Reiner, but the Gem of Amara meant that he'd had plenty of other opportunities to go after them and would have more in the future. It was the reason why everyone had decided to return to their classes; they wouldn't be truly safe unless they resigned themselves to constantly cowering in their homes. The walk from the hospital to her apartment went along the highway as well, which meant that there would be plenty of witnesses. She doubted the illustrious Watcher's Council would want to risk being seen grabbing someone off the side of the road.

Armin doubtlessly knew all of those things as well. He still hesitated, fear glimmering in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"You don't have to come with me," Mikasa said. Her stomach fluttered with guilt as she spoke. It was one thing for her to take some small risk, but quite another to drag Armin into danger with her. She had decided that she didn't want to get him hurt a long time ago. If the walk to her apartment felt like too much to him, she had no right to make him feel like he had to go out of his comfort zone. "You should call Levi," she added. "I don't think he'd mind. You're one of the only people he likes. I just... need to get some air."

Armin's expression softened. "I'm not the one I'm worried about," he said. "I know that this is hard for you, but... Mikasa, you shouldn't take any unnecessary risks."

Mikasa bit back a frown. "I'm not taking unnecessary risks, and you don't need to worry about me."

Armin looked her in the eyes, a pensive look strong on his face, and said nothing.

Mikasa was the first one to look away. "Fine," she murmured, standing up and moving to walk away as she spoke. "Call Levi."

The sound of gentle footsteps told her that Armin was following her. After a few seconds, she caught the sound of rustling fabric. Probably him pulling his phone out of his coat pocket. She didn't look at him to confirm. Her gaze remained fixed straight ahead, on the long hallway stretched out before her. It was empty save for a pair of men in orderly outfits pushing a cart. Mikasa barely gave them a passing glance.

She didn't see the way their gazes lingered on her and Armin.

She didn't notice one of them stepping away from the cart until it was too late. She tried to take a step back, but her body was slow and sluggish, and the stranger had the element of surprise on his side. He grabbed her from behind and pressed a foul-smelling cloth to her face.

The last thing she heard was a muffled shout from behind her.

Then the world went dark.

*

Mikasa opened her eyes to find herself laying on what looked like a living room couch. She felt a whisper of confusion, but wasn’t able to pay it much thought past how her head throbbed. It left her wanting nothing more than to remain still and silent in the hope that the discomfort may fade. And for a moment, she did.

The memories that quickly pushed their way to the surface of her mind ensured that it was only for a moment. A sense of urgency enabled her to force her way past the haze of dizziness and pain that enveloped her and rise to her feet. She swayed for a moment, but she did not fall. She could not afford to let herself fall.

If Tybur had been behind her capture, they probably would have killed her already. Which meant that there was only one thing this could be.

Mikasa turned in a slow circle to look around the room. A dark green couch was pressed against the wall, two matching armchairs off to the side. A tall lamp stood in between them. It was turned off, the room illuminated by the overhead light installed inside the ceiling fan. The opposite wall boasted a wooden entertainment center that supported a blank-screened television. It was also as pristine and spotless as an ikea showroom, holding none of the clutter, pointless knick-knacks, or other little things that said that someone actually lived there. The off-white walls were utterly devoid of mirrors, pictures, and windows.

A few unsteady steps lead her over to the wall. She pressed a hand against it and was greeted by the cold, unyielding feeling of metal.

Static crackled from somewhere up in the corner. Mikasa snapped her gaze up to spot a small camera with a green light glowing comfortably in its base. Beside it was a speaker.

A smooth, cool, unfamiliar voice filled the room.

"Welcome, Mikasa Ackerman, to your Cruciamentum."

A cloak of coldness settled itself around Mikasa's shoulders. She forced herself to ignore it and start moving.

"This test does not have a time limit, nor do you face any restrictions beyond those that have already been imposed upon you."

The pain in her head began to fade as she moved - a small mercy that allowed her to pick up her pace a bit. She walked through the doorway that took her out of the living room. It led her to a large, open room, completely undecorated beyond the hardwood door and overhead light. It then split off in four directions. One of them led back into the living room. The second was a light green door. It was closed, but did not appear to be locked. The third was another room. She could make out a large rectangular table surrounded by wooden chairs, but otherwise, it also looked empty.

The fourth exit was a large metal door with no doorknobs or handles. Mikasa stared at it, but before she could approach it, the voice on the speaker continued.

"The door will open and you will be released if you pass the test."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes and looked at the upper edges of the walls. It didn't take her long to spot two more cameras, one embedded on the left wall, the other on the right. She glared directly into the one on the left, but the speaker continued on as if he didn't notice.

"You're opponent will now be released. Good luck."

There was a slight click from the speaker. Then, she heard a faint grinding noise beneath her.

A basement.

A million feelings fought for dominance in Mikasa's heart in mind. In a way, the chaotic cacophony that they posed made it easier to shove all of them aside. This was the time to think, not feel.

That sound meant that her opponent, whatever it may be, was probably being released in the basement. Either it would need to come up or she would need to go down in order for them to engage in combat. That meant that she had some time to find a weapon before she had to fight for her life.

Mikasa turned and made her way into the dining room. There was a closed door to one side, but she only cast it a brief glance before continuing through the room's third exit. The doorway was at a little bit of an angle, making it hard to see what was inside as she approached. However, when once she stepped into it, she was greeted by the sight of a stove, a sink, and walls lined with cupboards and draws. Two exits sat at the far side of the room. One sported a door that hung open. She could spot the edge of a bathtub through it. The other one she didn't bother to investigate. Based on the layout of the house, it probably led to a faux mudroom that would contain another blocked door.

There was also a door wedged into the center of the wall across from the sink. Through it, she could hear a series of thumps and thuds.

Mikasa eyed the door for only a moment before falling upon the drawers. She tore through them with fervor, opening one, finding it empty, and moving on to the next. She knew that it might well be a pointless task. The house - her arena - was largely barren. It was entirely possible that the kitchen had been left empty as well.

But Erwin had said that the Cruciamentum was a test. If they had truly locked her in here with no potential weapons, then it wasn't a test, it was an execution. She supposed that it was possible that the council had decided to just do away with her, but accepting that would be giving up. And Mikasa wasn't ready to give up. Eren had been flung off the cliff, and she didn't know what had been done to Armin, but she still wasn't ready to give up yet. If she did, Eren's sacrifice would have been for nothing. If she did, she would die without knowing what had happened to Armin, without finding out if there was anything she could do to help him.

The second-to-last drawer rattled when she put her hand on the handle. She pulled it open to find a butcher's knife, large and sharp. Mikasa grabbed it before pulling open the next drawer, just to be safe. It was also empty.

A loud thunk sounded from the basement, followed by a metallic sound that was between a rattle and a screech. Mikasa shot the door a glance before heading back into the dining room.

She only made it a few steps before the lights flickered.

Mikasa broke into a run.

The lights flickered again.

She pulled into the dining room and dashed toward the table and chairs.

There was a crash from beneath her feet, and all of the lights flickered out at once, plunging her into total darkness.

Mikasa froze. The sound of her own pounding heart was absolutely deafening in the silence. It commanded her to stay frozen, not to move until she knew what she was doing. Instead, she glanced upwards, looking for the small green light that signified a recording camera.

She didn't find anything. That absence, and the implication it carried, sent a new wave of cold through her. If the council was no longer recording her, then something must have gone wrong. Logically, she knew that probably meant that she was in even more danger than before.

Yet as she forced herself to take several more steps forward, even facing the prospect of fighting blind, it felt like a certain weight had been taken off her shoulders. If she died here, at least it wouldn't be a spectator sport. 

Mikasa walked forward, hand extended, until she bumped into the table. Then, she felt her way along its edge until she bumped into one of the chairs. She put a hand on its back and felt her way at the same moment that she heard the steady footsteps of someone walking up the stairs from the basement. With gritted teeth, she laid the chair flat on its back, felt out one of the legs, and pressed the blade of her knife against it.

If her opponent was a vampire, then she would need a stake. The sawed-off leg of a chair wouldn't be especially sharp and her weakened state would make it that much harder to use, but she would make it work. She had to.

She was halfway through cutting the leg off when the door opened. Mikasa leaned down and forced the screaming muscles of her arm to saw harder, but she didn't hear the approach of footsteps. Instead, she heard them walking away.

The makeshift stake broke off in her hand just as she heard the sound of someone kicking against metal. It only lasted for a little while before breaking off.

Mikasa rose to her feet, knife in one hand, makeshift stake in the other, just in time to hear the footsteps return. This time, they were coming her way.

They stopped when her opponent reached the entrance to the dining room. There was a sigh, then a familiar voice said, "Hello, Mikasa."

Mikasa swallowed down the lump in her throat and tightened her grip on her weapons. "Hello, Bertolt."

Chapter Text

Mikasa didn't move. Judging by the silence of the room, neither did Bertolt.

That was a problem. Although Mikasa's instincts screamed at her to make the first move, the darkness meant that she couldn't try anything until Bertolt made enough noise to give her a better idea of where he was. He was not so restricted though; although it was inconvenient, vampires had a limited degree of vision even in total darkness. That meant that he could attack. When he did - sure surely it wouldn’t take long - she would make her move. Vampires were quiet, but not so quiet that he could sneak up on her when she was entirely focused on listening for him.

But rather than a footstep, Bertolt's voice broke the silence.

"I know this might be hard to believe but..." As he spoke, Mikasa could picture Bertolt sweating and fidgeting. More importantly, by speaking, he allowed her to picture roughly where he was standing. He was still close to the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. There were a few feet that would serve as a margin of error, but her slayer senses hadn't left her completely. She trusted that she would be able to tell when she was in his general vicinity. From there, it would all be a matter of finding his heart... and keeping herself from getting killed.

She leaned onto the balls of her feet and took a few quiet steps forward. The sound of three footsteps met her. However, it sounded distinctly like they were moving away.

"...I want to talk," Bertolt finished.

Mikasa stilled. 

"Talk?" she asked, allowing disbelief to seep into her voice. At the same time, she tensed her muscles in preparation to run or fight. If this was a trap, Bertolt was a fool for thinking that she would fall for it.

Maybe he was a fool. Of the traitorous trio, Bertolt had been the one who she knew the least. He was almost as much of a wildcard as Ymir.

Yet he still came painfully close to being someone who had almost been a friend.

A surge of emotions threatened to rise within her. Mikasa pushed them down and shoved them to the side. This wasn't the time for that. She would never allow herself to mourn the loss of the potential friendship of a monster, but this wasn't the time or place for any sort of strong emotion.

"Yes," Bertolt said. "We'll have to be quick though; I can't imagine it'll be long before they get the cameras up again."

A jolt of realization ran through Mikasa. "You're the one who cut the power." It felt obvious once she said it. All of that crashing and banging in the basement had to be something, and she couldn't quite believe that the timing was just a coincidence.

"Yeah. They had this whole place rigged up to a generator in the basement. I'm sure they have some way to fix it, and I doubt it'll take more than an hour or two, but... I'm hoping it'll buy us some time."

Mikasa gaped. They had the generator... in the basement? Why? It sounded to her like an unfathomably stupid design choice. Then again, people made stupid decisions sometimes. She supposed it was possible that they hadn't considered the chance for her opponent to cut the power. Or maybe they did, and that threat was another element of her test. Maybe they wanted to subject her to a completely blind battle and the only accidental part of this was the cameras going out as well.

Or maybe they knew who Bertolt was. Maybe they thought that after what Mikasa had done, he would be so fixated on vengeance that he wouldn't think to cut the power.

Mikasa tightened her grip on her makeshift stake. "What do we have to talk about?" she asked.

Bertolt gave a brittle laugh. It told her that they were thinking about the exact same thing, the exact same girl. "I think we have a lot to talk about. But... I wanted to make a deal with you. If you agree to it... if you agree to it, then when the power comes back on, I'll let you kill me."

Mikasa drew a careful step back, immediately on guard. Bertolt remained silent - still - and she shook her head in disbelief.

Vampires didn't volunteer to be slain. They especially didn't volunteer to die at the hands of someone who had previously harmed someone they seemed to care about, to whatever extent vampires could care. There had to be something else going on here, something that Mikasa couldn't see. Some sort of trick, a trap.

The trouble was, Mikasa couldn't see, and with Bertolt standing infuriatingly still, that left her with no better recourse than to keep him talking, to entertain the thought that he somehow might be telling the truth. Or at least give him the opportunity to try to convince her that he was.

"Why on earth should I believe you?" she asked, voice sharp and cold.

Any hints of venom had drained out of Bertolt's voice when he responded. Instead, there was only tired resignation. "Because I'm dead anyway. The Watcher's Council is running this thing, right? Do you really think they'll let me live even if I do kill you?"

No; of course they wouldn't. Odds were, Bertolt would be put down as soon as this thing was over. The fact that he understood that did make his offer a little more believable. Just not enough for her to actually believe him. Some people rolled over and accepted it when faced with certain death, but others clung to impossible hopes in order to gain the strength to keep fighting. She couldn't afford to take the risk that Bertolt was just trying to get her guard down.

Unfortunately, she also couldn't afford to lose this opportunity if it was real, slim though the chance may be.

She needed to know more.

"What's in it for you?" Mikasa demanded. Because there had to be something else to it. Even if Bertolt had accepted his fate, vampires didn't commit selfless deeds, and she had done nothing to earn an act of altruism from him. If anything, the knowledge of his imminent demise should make him more determined to take her down with him.

Bertolt answered without hesitation. "A second chance for my friends."

Mikasa immediately knew what he meant. There was only one thing it could mean. At the same time, she couldn't help but think that she had heard wrong. He couldn't truly think that there was a possibility that his friends would be shown mercy. She couldn't believe that he would have the gall to ask .

But standing on death's door could push people to do unbelievable things. When Mikasa did not respond, Bertolt took it upon himself to fill the quiet, explaining exactly what he meant by his words. "I'll tell you everything that I know about Tybur, and when the power comes back on, I'll let you kill me. In return, if Annie wakes up or you ever see Reiner again, I want you to give them a second chance."

A lie. It was probably all a lie.

But if it wasn’t… if Bertolt was telling the truth, then it would mean that she had a way out. An easy way out. It would be so easy to make a promise that she didn’t mean. Once he was dead, Bertolt would have no way to hold up her half of the bargain. It was such a small chance, but if it was real, it meant that a simple lie could set her free.

A lie that she would have to carry with her. Would she be able to do that if he let her kill him? He probably wouldn’t - he was a vampire, it didn’t make sense - but if the impossible happened, if he did, would she really be able to handle being the liar in that scenario?

No. Mikasa knew that she could go back on her word if it came down to it, but she couldn’t walk into the deal actively intending to lie. If she took him up on his offer, she had to at least seriously consider upholding her half of the bargain. Which meant that she had to hear him out.

That didn’t mean that she would be easy to convince, or that she had to be gentle about it.

"They're murderers," Mikasa said. "Reiner's a vampire who's slaughtered countless innocent people, and Annie betrayed her calling. Even if I wanted to let them go, as the slayer, I can't."

"I know," Bertolt said, "But it's more complicated than that. Mikasa - you know them; you spent time with them. They're more than that, and I know you saw that, too."

Mikasa's stomach twisted. She thought of the girl who had saved her life the first time she met her. She thought of quiet moments in the graveyard. How she had noticed her discomfort at the party, how she had listened as she told her about Eren, trying to comfort but not pushing too far. She thought of soft lips and a blood-splattered kiss. 

Then she thought of the warm, friendly, trustworthy individual who had turned around and broken his friend's neck. 

"Reiner attacked Connie and killed Marco, along with god knows how many other people," Mikasa snapped. "He's the textbook definition of a monster."

"He was," Bertolt agreed. "But something happened. I'm... surprised Connie didn't tell you about it, honestly."

Mikasa opened her mouth to retort, but cut herself off at the last minute. It would be so easy to assume that Bertolt was lying, Connie had been acting strange when the topic of Reiner came up. He didn't seem especially angry. She had initially written it off as fear, but now that she thought about it, his behavior didn't completely match that either. There was some fear, but during lunch the week before, he had also expressed something that came impossibly close to concern.

Did Connie know something that she didn't? Had she been so caught up in her own problems that she had missed something so glaring?

Mikasa opted not to say anything, and after a few moments passed, Bertolt started speaking again. "Reiner tried to kill Connie, but he couldn't. He suddenly started feeling guilty over everything he'd done, and it... He was barely coherent. But he regrets the people he’s killed, and he... he tried to stop Annie from going after Levi's friends. He said... he said that we should just give up and run away."

"Why would he do that?" Mikasa asked, voice sounding almost as numb as she suddenly felt. If what Bertolt said had really happened, it would certainly explain Connie's behavior, but it made no sense beyond that. A vampire wouldn't help try to fix a mess that they started, and they certainly wouldn't feel remorse over it. They couldn't , they didn't have-

"He got his soul back," Bertolt said.

"What?" Mikasa asked, voice rife with skepticism and doubt. "How?"

"I'm not sure," Bertolt admitted, "but I think that the vengeance demon had something to do with it."

Mikasa swallowed heavily and tried to force her nerves to calm down. No matter what Bertolt was saying, she couldn't allow herself to get too caught up in it, lose focus on the present, and give him the opening he needed to kill her. Besides, if Reiner had a soul now... so what? If he felt bad about the things that he had done, then good. He should. It didn't change the things he'd done, nor did it make him any less of a murderer. Even if he was shaken up now, it didn't necessarily mean that he would do anything good going forward.

Human beings had souls, but it never seemed to stop them from being cruel and selfish. Why would a vampire with a soul be any different? Just because he felt guilt didn't mean that he was immediately alleviated of it.

"And what is Reiner doing right now?" Mikasa asked. If Bertolt was telling the truth, if he did have a soul, then that was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that she knew could possibly justify his continued existence. Knew, not felt. Her feelings were composed of, pleasant memories turned bitter, the sting of betrayal, the memory of how intensely stupid she'd felt for letting him get so close to herself and the people she'd started to care about. They told her that she didn't want it to matter, no matter what Bertolt said.

Bertolt sighed heavily. "I... don't know," he admitted, a hint of defeat leaking into his voice. She imagined that his shoulders would be hunched if she could see him. "That night, I left him to go help Annie, and... he disappeared."

All of Mikasa's thoughts dissipated. Everything except for a tiny, aching thing that began to spring up somewhere deep in her chest. She crushed it down remorselessly and focused on the facts. The facts that, assuming that Bertolt was telling the truth, pointed to a possibility that he apparently, didn't want to consider.

She supposed she could understand why. It wouldn't be a pleasant thing to think about for someone who still cared about Reiner, even to whatever minor degree that vampires were capable of caring. What she said next might even be considered to be cruel. But it needed to be said, and Mikasa wasn't in any mood to pull her punches.

Even so, for reasons that she didn't quite understand, her voice pitched a fraction softer when she spoke. "If he disappeared, and getting his soul back affected him that badly, what even makes you think that he's still alive?"

"He is," Bertolt insisted. "He wouldn't give up that easily. I think he has a reason to keep living beyond Tybur. He… it's hard to explain."

"Try," Mikasa said. She paused then, just for a moment, just for long enough to force herself to acknowledge the unfortunate truth of the situation. They had only talked about Reiner so far. She didn't want to talk about Annie, but if she wanted to be able to make an informed decision, she had to. The thought made her chest ache, much like her stomach had when that knife was driven into it. Her throat threatened to close up, but she forced herself to speak around it. "Tell me about Annie too. Tell me why she deserves another chance."

There was a shuffling sound from Bertolt. Movement, but not him drawing any closer. He was fidgeting. "I... can do that," he said. "But Mikasa, I really don't know how long it will take them to get the power back on. The longer we talk about them, the less time I'll have to tell you about Tybur."

Mikasa swallowed. He made a point; a painful, unfortunate point. She didn't know how much he could tell her about Tybur, but anything would be better than what she currently had. But... if she took his deal, unless she outright lied about upholding her end, then she had to know what she was going into. Reiner and his mess aside, if she was actually going to consider giving Annie a second chance, she needed to know how she had become what she was, to have some idea of if there was any bringing her back to... to whatever it was she used to be. Or whatever she might be going forward.

"That's too bad," she finally said. "Because if I'm seriously going to consider going along with your plan, I need to know everything."

The room went quiet for a moment. It was broken by Bertolt saying, "Alright. I'll tell you."

He paused for just long enough for Mikasa to get the sense that she was about to hear something truly terrible.

She was right.

"Annie was in a car crash when she was nine," Bertolt began. "Her father died, and she ended up in an orphanage. Tybur found her a year later."

He paused for a moment before asking, "You know that Tybur collects potential slayers, right? And children who will be turned when they're older?"

"Yes," Mikasa said. "I know about their child soldier operation."

"Right," Bertolt said. "Well, they sometimes paired groups of vampires, potential slayers, and promising children together for training and missions. Annie was trained privately for four years before being put in a group with me, a vampire named Marcel, Marcel's brother, a human boy named Porco, and a girl named Pieck. 

"Annie's actually been with Tybur longer than Reiner. He was only turned in... 2012, I think? And he wasn't assigned to our group until nearly a year after it was formed. He wasn't..." Bertolt paused, the shift in his tone making it all too clear that he was struggling to figure out how to explain whatever was coming next.

"Tybur didn't expect Reiner to be anything special," he finally said. "Tybur detected a potential slayer in his family, but when they went there, all the women they found were too old to be useful. His family was slaughtered, and someone turned him just to make sure it wasn't a total waste of time. He isn't from a powerful bloodline and his sire wasn't very strong, but he turned out to be a lot stronger than they expected. Loyal and determined, too. He caught the higher-up's attention, and eventually, he was assigned to work with us."

Mikasa pursed her lips. "And you want me to give him a second chance."

"I know that doesn't sound good," Bertolt said. "But the thing is, he didn't always go out and kill people. That only started when he got more involved with Tybur, when he... when he saw how the potential slayers were treated. And he would always disappear every so often. He never told me where he was going or what he was doing, just not to follow him under any circumstances. I think... I think he was a lot more affected by what happened to his family than he let on. And I think he was keeping a lot more secrets than anyone realized."

How the potential slayers were treated. Those words stuck with Mikasa, clawing into her chest and resonating throughout her mind, whispering all sorts of brutal implications. However, a realization filled up the space of her mind around them, a realization that should be utterly unbelievable if true.

"The potential slayer from Reiner's family, you think she's still alive," Mikasa said. "You think that Reiner's been protecting her. And... you never told Tybur?"

"They would have killed him for it if I was right," Bertolt said. "I didn't even tell Reiner that I suspected. But… that's why I think he's alive. Reiner was meticulous about coming across as Tybur's perfect warrior. If he cared about her enough to go through all that, there's no way he would just die and abandon her now.”

It was a lot to take in. It was more than Mikasa could take in right then, when time was of the essence and they still had so much more information to cover. She took the uncomfortable tangle of pained and angry feelings that tied themselves to Reiner and slammed them away somewhere deep inside of her. For now, she had to focus on the facts, and the facts were that she didn't know enough to make a solid decision.

Not focusing on her feelings regarding Reiner was one thing. It was tiring, but it didn't eat away at her insides and leave a hollowed-out shell that felt like it was barely standing. Annie did that. But the facts were that it wasn't just Reiner who Bertolt was requesting amnesty for. She had already said that she needed to know everything, but putting a fine point on it, acknowledging that she needed to redirect the conversation toward the thing that hurt the most, filled her with dread before she even said the words.

But she had to.

She didn't owe Annie anything. This wasn't for her, it wasn't because any part of her felt that she deserved a second chance. But for all that Mikasa would try to fight if it came down to it, she knew very well that even with her skill, her odds weren't good. So for that faint, glimmering possibility that she could make it through the day, she had to consider this devil's deal. Which meant making sure that by possibly giving them another chance, she wasn't risking too great an evil for her life to justify.

"What about Annie?" Mikasa asked.

"Annie's... more complicated," Bertolt said. "More innocent."

Despite the darkness, Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "She's a murderer. She is in no way innocent."

No matter why Annie had become what she did, the fact remained that she had killed people. She had abandoned her calling as the slayer and became a murderer when she was supposed to be humanity's guardian. No amount of reasoning or justification could change that, and calling her innocent was an insult to her victims.

"You're right," Bertolt said, voice a shade weaker than it had been moments ago. "That was the wrong word. It's more... she could have made different choices, but I don't think she ever really thought she had that choice."

"Everyone has a choice," Mikasa said.

"And you're lucky to be able to see the world like that," Bertolt replied.

A spark of offense flared up in Mikasa. Lucky? In what way was she lucky? If she was lucky, she wouldn't be where she was today. If she was lucky, she never would have met Annie Leonhart. If she was lucky, Eren Yeager would still be alive. Anyone who knew her would know better than to say that she was lucky. The fact the assertion was made by Bertolt, who hardly knew her at all, made it sting that much more.

"I am not lucky," Mikasa growled.

"Compared to Annie, you are," Bertolt said. His words came quickly, an undeniable anxious note weaving itself into his voice, but he pushed on regardless. "You understand that you have free will. You can consider all of your options and make a decision without already knowing that you'll regret it. Annie lost all of that a long time ago."

Annie knew what she was doing, Mikasa thought. She didn't say it though, and after a few moments, Bertolt began speaking again.

"Like I said, Tybur got ahold of Annie when she was young.

Tybur teaches its potential slayers that they are living weapons. Annie was told that death and destraoduction are her calling and she shouldn't want to be anything else - that she can't be anything else. She wanted to be a good person, but they told her that she was just as much of a monster as the vampires. And eventually... eventually, she started to believe it."

Mikasa pushed down the lump in her throat. Doing so only made her more aware of the ice that had started to form in her chest. "Slayers are killers, but it's different," she pointed out. "What we do is necessary to protect humanity. Vampires kill because they want to."

"Tybur didn't put it that way," Bertolt said. "They said they're two sides of the same coin, both monsters, stronger when they work together. I don't know how much of that Annie believed, but... she definitely believed the rest."

Slayers as monsters. Mikasa had never thought of it that way, although she supposed it made sense that the actual monsters would.

Did Annie see her as a monster?

Could she even blame her if she did? One could say that the dagger in her chest had proven her right.

"Tybur also likes to make sure that its members see it as unstoppable. The head of Tybur can be sensible and charismatic. But she can also be... brutal. Unforgiving. Whenever someone tried to betray the group, she would make a point of killing them slowly, painfully, and publicly. When we found out that Annie had been activated, she made a point of making sure that she was always at those executions."

She. The leader of the Tybur group was a woman.

"And that was enough to cow all of you into staying?" Mikasa asked. The words felt hollow on her tongue, weighed down by the knowledge of how young Annie had been when Tybur got their hands on her and just how hard it would have been to avoid her captor's rhetoric and campaign of fear. Still, she had to say it. She couldn't roll over and accept what Bertolt was saying so easily.

"I mean, it didn't help that we were getting whittled off one by one even without turning on Tybur." Bertolt followed his words with a low, uneasy laugh. "Remember the other members of the training group that I told you about?"

"Let me guess; they're all dead now."

"Close. Before Annie was called, Tybur tracked down the current slayer. They wanted to see if she would join us, and our group was sent out with some others to take care of it. It went... badly, though. Things got violent and she went after Reiner. Reiner's always been strong, but he... he was really inexperienced at the time. She nearly killed him when Marcel jumped in. He lured her away, and-"

"-When did this happen?" Mikasa cut in. There was a new weight settling in her chest. Significant chunks of the story were missing, but certain beats felt undeniably familiar.

"I-It was 2014, I think," Bertolt stammered out, audibly caught off guard.

Familiarity condensed into certainty. 2014, the same year that Mikasa experienced a sudden and inexplicable increase in strength. "You killed my predecessor," she said, voice flat.

"Marcel did. And she took him down with her." Bertolt's voice wavered as he spoke. Mikasa knew that it probably had nothing to do with the dead slayer and everything to do with the vampire that killed her, but she still allowed herself to take a degree of pleasure in it. Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by the pieces of the story that Bertolt hadn't given voice to.

"What happened to the slayer's people?" Mikasa asked.

"What?"

"I've dreamed about her death before. Before the fighting, she was begging for someone to be spared. Bertolt, what happened to them?"

The quiet that filled the room gave Mikasa her answer before Bertolt began to speak.

"The slayer was a cultist. Tybur... they ordered that the cult itself be destroyed. I think they were hoping that the slayer was young or frightened enough that she would go along with them despite what they did. But... they weren't going to be allowed to get out alive no matter what she did." A pause. Even though she couldn't see him, she could tell well enough that Bertolt was uncomfortable. "In the end, they all died together."

Of course they had. Mikasa had never allowed herself to imagine that her dream had anything other than an unhappy ending. Hearing it still made all of the pieces come together in a terrible way.

And Annie had been there for it.

"Did Annie help kill them?" Mikasa asked.

"No," Bertolt quickly said. "Marcel made sure that Annie, Pieck, and Porco all stayed out of the fighting. They just... watched. Annie didn't actually kill a human being until this mission."

Mikasa took a deep breath to stabilize herself. Later. She could think about everything she had learned later. She could acknowledge her feelings later . For now, the story wasn't done, and she had to keep going.

"What happened to the other members of your group?" she asked.

Bertolt sighed, sad and mournful. If he were human, Mikasa might have felt bad for making him recount something that was clearly making him so uncomfortable. "Porco and Reiner never got along, but it got worse after Marcel died. Like I said, he was his older brother, and they were close even though Marcel was a vampire. They started to argue a lot more. Porco also started to lash out and defy orders, and there was nothing that any of us could do to stop it. The group started to fall apart. We were told off and watched more closely, but it wasn't enough to get Porco to start behaving again. And Pieck..."

Another sigh, this one laced heavily with regret. "I don't know what Pieck was thinking while this was going on," Bertolt admitted. "When I say that there's nothing any of us could do to stop it, I mean that me and Annie didn't know what to do, but Pieck... She was really smart and observant. I think... I think she understood everything that was going on a lot better than I did. She was always so bright and outgoing, but I'm pretty sure that she kept her most important thoughts to herself. I should have asked her what to do, but she was human, and a teenager at the time, and I didn't... I didn't think to ask her for help until it was too late.

"Pieck and Porco both disappeared at the same time, a few months after Marcel's death. Tybur searched for them, but they were never found. We've spent the past several years thinking that they were dead, but..." Bertolt's voice took on a stressed, strained quality. "Apparently Porco's become a vengeance demon."

"A vengeance demon?" Mikasa echoed.

"Annie and Reiner told me about that meeting Hanji held," Bertolt said. "The vengeance demon they showed you a picture of, that was Porco. I'm pretty sure that has something to do with how Reiner got his soul, honestly."

Mikasa's mind flashed back to that meeting. Reiner had seemed utterly unbothered by the demon, confident that it was nothing that they couldn't handle. She had chalked it up to confidence at the time. Now, she recognized it as someone recognizing an old comrade and dismissing their ability to pose a threat to him. A mistake on his part, if what Bertolt had said was true.

Annie must have realized that as well. She had been caught on the possibility that the demon - Porco - was after a specific person. Taking Reiner and Porco's history into consideration, the implicit warning suddenly became all too clear.

Yet Reiner had continued wreaking havoc and generating ample opportunities for someone to seek vengeance. Had he truly been so confident that Porco couldn't or wouldn’t do anything to him? Or did he just decide that whatever he was trying to accomplish with his bloodshed was worth the risk?

No. Now wasn't the time to think too deeply about Reiner's motivations. There was no time for where that train of thought and feeling may lead her.

"So Porco's still alive," Mikasa said. "Is Pieck?"

"I don't know," Bertolt said. "We couldn't figure out how she could have gotten away from Tybur, so we figured that someone must have killed them and covered it up. But if they left together... then maybe. I know that her father used to be part of another organization, the Knights of… something or other. I don't think they could have done much against Tybur, since they were a dying group, but… maybe they helped them get away."

"But you haven't seen her since she disappeared," Mikasa asserted. "So she isn't relevant to this."

"She is," Bertolt insisted. "Pieck and Porco are relevant because they were Annie's friends, and she lost them both. They disappeared, Tybur started to watch what was left of our group more closely, and then Annie was activated as the slayer. How much privacy do you think she was allowed after that?" Bertolt's voice strained further, cracking and bending under the weight of fear so severe that it haunted even a vampire. "It was... you could barely have a thought that Tybur wouldn't approve of without being scared that they'd find out and punish you for it. All three of us were watched like hawks, but Annie was barely given room to breathe .

"When they found out about you, they didn't decide to send us out immediately. It took them a while to decide that Annie was brainwashed enough and Reiner and I were loyal enough to be trusted. But when they did, they gave Reiner the Gem of Amara, told Annie that it was time for her to finally do her duty. They said that we would be honored for helping shape the new world if we succeeded."

"And if you failed?" Mikasa prompted.

"They didn't say. They didn't have to. We were a team - if one of us messed up too severely, all three of us would be punished for it." Bertolt's voice took on a graver quality; the wait of life and death. "Mikasa, do you understand what I'm saying? The mission failed. I'm dead no matter what I do. Even if I escaped the Watcher's Council, I can't... the leader of Tybur will come after me, and I don't stand a chance against her. She'll kill me, and then she'll come after Annie and Reiner. But you... Tybur is strong, but the entire organization will crumble without their leader. And you stand a chance of taking her out. Mikasa, you could end this."

At first, Mikasa didn't know what to say. Then the words slipped past her lips, unbidden, yet demanding to be heard. "So you'd pin your hope on the one who put Annie in a coma in the first place?"

Bertolt's voice cracked as he spoke. "You put her in a coma, but you weren't the one who put her on that roof. I blame Tybur for everything that's happened since we came to Paradis. For everything that happened to Annie and Reiner. I'm putting my hope in the only person strong enough to stand a chance at making them pay."

Mikasa thought she understood what he was trying to say.

Annie had gone along with Tybur because she had been conditioned to see them as unstoppable. Even if she had stopped to consider going against them, the prospect would have seemed like a fool's errand, doomed to failure before she could even make the first move. Perhaps she could have chosen to turn against them at the cost of her own life, but for what purpose? It was a very rare person who would sacrifice themselves for the sake of someone they would never meet. It may have been the slayer's duty to do so, but Annie had already forsaken her duty and everyone who might push her to be better was dead or gone. The only ones left to whom she could reasonably have any strong connection were Bertolt and Reiner, and by the sound of it, she would have only doomed them by refusing to comply.

In another world, perhaps Annie would have cared enough about Mikasa to try and fight a battle that seemed unwinnable. If they had more time before everything fell apart, if either of their hearts had been a little less hardened, if they had been allowed to grow just a little closer.

Or maybe they were doomed no matter what. Maybe no matter what universe it was, no matter how the stars aligned, Annie would have stuck to her mission and Mikasa would have become her enemy.

If Annie's fate had been carved into stone, then Reiner's was probably moreso, if not because of destiny, then because of his own stubborn decisions. If Bertolt was right, then he had already betrayed Tybur by keeping secrets from them. Yet he had also been so keen on keeping those secrets, on protecting the one person who he could bring himself to truly care about, that he hadn't dared make a more blatant move against them. It wouldn't have bothered him either, because he didn't have a soul to be weighed down by his sins.

Until now.

None of it took away from what either of them had done, nor was it any guarantee that anything good would happen going forward. But it did mean...

It meant a lot of things. It was a lot to unpack. There were implications to dissect and possibilities to consider. And right now, she didn't have time for any of it. So she took it all and shoved it aside to be dealt with later, into the corner of her being that housed the feelings that she could barely even acknowledge right now, let alone truly examine. The thing that remained at the forefront of her mind was the most important thing that all of this meant right now .

It meant that things might be different if Tybur was out of the picture. That though there was no true fixing what had been done, there was a chance that she could break the cycle and prevent further damage. That she had a chance to change things.

It meant that she might that this might be a risk worth taking.

However, for all of the answers that she had received, there was still one question gnawing at the back of her mind.

"What about you?" Mikasa asked. "You don't sound like you approved of Tybur. You saw the harm that they were doing to everyone else. Even if you don't have a soul, if you cared about Annie at all, why didn't you do something?"

"What should I have done?" Bertolt replied, voice sharp. The sound made her take an impulsive step forward. A quiet footstep from Bertolt's direction told her that he had met it with a step back. "I've only ever been a pawn. I know stuff, but I don't... I'm not the sort of person who can do a nything about it. I don't..." His voice dropped as it took on a mournful note of regret. "Even as a human, I never had any will of my own. I could barely even make myself speak up, let alone consider moving against something like Tybur. I've never done anything important of my own volition, not until... not until now."

Not until he found himself standing on death's door.

Mikasa closed her eyes. The darkness meant that it had no true effect, but it did serve to amplify the cool resolve that fell over her.

"One more chance," she whispered.

"What?"

Mikasa snapped her eyes open and stared into the darkness, let it burn into her gaze. "Annie and Reiner get one more chance. If she kills again or you're wrong about his soul, I kill them."

"...Thank you, Mikasa," Bertolt whispered. 

"Don't thank me," Mikasa said, the words making her throat ache as they came out. "Tell me what you know."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a new voice spoke up, cold and distant in that way it sometimes was, but with a hint of undeniable surprise. "Mikasa?" 

Eren. 

With everything that was going on, after going weeks without seeing him, after he had failed to show up for Annie, she had barely stopped to consider Eren's absence. Yet now she could hear him clear as day.

She couldn't decide if it was better or worse that he sounded largely unemotive today. On one hand, a foolish part of her ached for the facsimile of comfort that he would have at least attempted to provide if he were in his other state. On the other hand, he would be easier to ignore this way. And she needed to ignore him right now. 

There was a shuffling sound from Bertolt. Mikasa automatically tensed, but no footsteps followed. He was probably fidgeting.

"The Tybur group has two leaders," Bertolt began, voice low and hesitant. "Their names... are Lara and Helos."

"Oh," Eren breathed.

Meanwhile, Mikasa frowned, the doubt and suspicion that had begun to fade making its way back into her being with a vengeance. After the fuss he had gone through to get her to agree to his deal, would Bertolt really lie to her so blatantly?

"Erwin already told me about them," she said. "Tybur's founders. They were killed a long time ago."

"Mikasa, wait," Eren whispered, his voice right next to her ear.

It occurred to her that it was odd that she couldn't see him. He wasn't real in the first place; it served to reason that it wouldn't matter if there wasn't any light for her to see him with.

Bertolt started speaking again before she could even consider following that train of thought any further. "If you know about them, you probably already know that Helos is a powerful magician. He faked their deaths so that they could move the operation underground and move forward without the council's interference. The Tybur group was never defeated, and it never got new leaders. It's always been Lara and Helos."

It was a bold claim, bold enough that it could be easily dismissed as a lie. Yet something in Mikasa's stomach twisted in a way that could not be ignored, telling her to listen.

"He's telling the truth," Eren whispered.

Her stomach twisted again. Mikasa held a hand up to it, then inched a little bit over, so that her palm hovered over where Annie had stabbed her.

Mikasa lowered her hand and let out a deep breath. "So it's Lara and Helos," she said. "What can you tell me about them?"

"About Helos, not much," Bertolt admitted, his voice taking on an apologetic tint. "I don't know what he looks like; no one but Lara's seen him in years. He operates mostly from the shadows. I don't know much of what he does, how much of a problem he'll be for you, or if he'll come after you at all. But... I know that he's the one who tracks down the potential slayers, and his wards are the reason the council hasn't found out about Tybur in all these years. He's a big part of the reason why no one escapes Tybur - it would take powerful, specialized counter-magic to hide from him."

Annie had said that Tybur had found out about her through demonic gossip. Hearing about Helos filled Mikasa with the absolute certainty that that was a lie. It sent an uneasy chill up her spine, made her want to look around to see if she would find a pair of mystical eyes on her. Ultimately, it was also all but useless information.

She opened her mouth to say as much, but before she could make a sound, Bertolt took a few steps forward.

Mikasa tightened her grip on her stake and impulsively yanked it higher. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Bertolt said. "I mean, I was just thinking... that table over there. Maybe we should... break it?"

"Why?"

"It can't be long before the council gets the lights back on. We should make it look like we were fighting, or they might get suspicious."

Mikasa frowned. Stopping to tear the place apart felt like a waste of time, potentially even an attempt to stall enough to keep him from having to completely betray Lara. Yet she couldn't deny that he had a point.

...He couldn't expect her to uphold her half of the bargain if he didn't do the same. If he meant even a word of what he said about Annie and Reiner, if this wasn't all some big farce and he had any hope that she’d keep her word, then he would keep talking.

"Alright," Mikasa said, inching a few steps to the side, away from Bertolt. "But keep your distance and keep talking."

"Alright," Bertolt returned. He started walking in the direction of the table, his steps slow and deliberate. They were clearly audible, too; Mikasa didn't know if she was glad that he wasn't obscuring his footsteps by talking, or irritated that he was wasting precious seconds. Yet he reached the other side of the room soon enough, and once he did, he started speaking again.

"Lara's primary leader of Tybur. She's the one you'll have to worry about; now that we've failed, she will be coming after you. But... there's a chance that she'll go for Annie first. You'll need to... please watch out for her."

Mikasa didn't know what to say to that. Thankfully, she didn't need to say anything. Bertolt only waited for a few seconds before striking down at the table, the sharp crack of splitting wood filled the air. It was a single outburst of sound; he hadn't hit hard enough to make it collapse completely. Rather than striking out again, he continued speaking.

"You probably know this already, but Lara's a vampire. My sire. That's-"

"-I know what a sire is," Mikasa said.

It meant that Lara was the one who had turned Bertolt into a monster. The one who had killed him, back when he was still a human being, long before the watcher's council could get to him.

"Right," Bertolt said. "So I... I knew her fairly well. She's smart. Controlled. Not blatantly cruel, but ruthless, determined, strategic, and dutiful to a fault. She has a hammer that amplifies her strength, and she's already strong. Stronger than other vampires, too."

Bertolt paused to strike out at the table again. This time, it came crashing to the ground, releasing the sound and smell of splintering wood into the air. Mikasa wasn't quick enough to prevent herself from taking a step back at the sudden noise.

Once the din had faded, Bertolt continued, "I don't know much about it, but Helos did some ritual to enhance her strength. She's stronger than normal, and harder to kill. A stake to the heart won't affect her, and she can spend some time in the sunlight without burning. The only thing that I know will kill her is decapitation. But also..."

Something collapsed, smaller and quieter than the table, but with several smaller parts that broke off and went clattering in different directions. Mikasa assumed that it was a chair. This time, she didn't so much as flinch.

"...It had a drawback. Lara can't cross running water. It paralyzes her."

"She can't cross running water and decapitation will kill her," Mikasa intoned. "Is that it?"

"That's it," Bertolt replied, his voice sounding apologetic. "But if you have any questions, I'll try my best to..."

The lights flickered back on.

Eren was the first thing that Mikasa noticed, standing several paces away, but staring pensively up at the corner. She blinked as her eyes adjusted, then followed his gaze up to the camera in the corner of the room.

The light embedded into its base glowed a damning green.

Showtime.

Mikasa turned her gaze over to Bertolt. He stood over the table's wreckage, ragged and disheveled. His arms and legs were smattered with wood dust. The thing that truly caught her attention, however, was his expression. It was one of sheer alarm, and when she met his gaze, she saw a whisper of pleading desperation in his eyes.

Mikasa hesitated for a moment. Then she gave a small nod.

Bertolt had upheld his side of the bargain so far, even if he hadn't been able to tell her as much as she would have liked. If he followed through until the end… she would probably at least attempt to uphold hers.

If. What were the chances that Bertolt would actually go through with it and accept his death? It was one thing to say that you were willing to die, but quite another to actually do it.

There was still a chance that this wouldn't end well for her. She did not let the glimmer of relief in Bertolt's eyes tell her otherwise. That glimmer didn't last long anyway; it faded as Mikasa began to move in a wide circle, morphing into something hard and cold as his lips thinned and his jaw tensed.

A facade falling away, or an act for the cameras?

Bertolt moved to counter Mikasa. Eren moved in time with both of them, drawing away from the pair with a few backward footsteps. "I'm sorry it had to end like this," Eren whispered.

Mikasa kept her gaze locked on her opponent as they circled the room. They had almost completely switched places now, her close to the wreckage of the table and him near the hallway that would lead to the living room. Aside from the continued circling, Bertolt didn't move a muscle.

He was waiting for her to make the first move.

So she did. Once she had drawn several feet away from the broken table, Mikasa lunged, makeshift stake outstretched and knife held close to her side.

In another situation, it might have been that easy. A simple lunge, a stab, and the battle would be won. But the reality was that Mikasa barely even counted as the slayer right now, and that meant that she wasn't fast enough for that.

Bertolt pulled back and dove to the side. Mikasa went after him, but it was already clear that her shot at his heart was gone. She switched tactics, pulling her stake closer to her chest and lashing out with the hand that held her knife. The blade’s tip cut through Bertolt's shirt and drew a thin line of blood on the side of his chest, but he pulled away before she could do any real damage.

Mikasa was already twisting away the moment the knife left flesh. It was barely enough for her to avoid Bertolt grabbing the side of her head. His momentum from his attempted grab sent him stumbling forward a few steps, and Mikasa took the opportunity to take several steps backward. As many as she could manage at the moment, as much distance as she could put between herself and the vampire.

Bertolt didn't go after her right away. First, he straightened up and looked down at his side. He gingerly pressed a hand against it, then frowned when it came back covered in blood. "Nice shot," he murmured.

She should have done better.

Bertolt and Mikasa's eyes met for a brief second before he dove forward again. Mikasa stepped back and to the side as swiftly as her unsteady legs would carry her, lashing out with the knife to keep the vampire from getting too close. It nicked his arm when he got within range, making him pull back with a pained grimace. In the few seconds it stalled him, Mikasa moved closer to the ruined table.

A mistake. She stepped on a piece of splintered wood without realizing it, and before she knew what was happening, the world was tilting around her. Mikasa spread her arms out and took several quick steps to the side in a desperate attempt to reclaim her balance.

It worked; within a matter of seconds, her footing had returned something close to solid.

But this was a battle to the death. She shouldn't have had a few seconds.

Wary gray eyes traveled over to Bertolt. In her moment of vulnerability, the vampire had drawn a few steps further away. He was holding his arm to his chest like it was grievously wounded, blood dripping down his arm and pooling on the floor.

It wasn't a bad injury though. She would know; she'd been the one to inflict it.

The council wouldn't necessarily know that though.

Mikasa's gaze shifted up to the single camera in the dining room. It was positioned behind Bertolt, meaning that wouldn't have a clear view of the injury. It likely hadn't gotten a clear shot of the moment it was inflicted. Shifting her gaze back to the vampire, she focused on the arm itself.

Bertolt shifted slightly, allowing her to see where the fingers of his good hand were digging into the cut, making it bleed that much more. Making it look far worse than it was.

Giving him an excuse not to go for her when her guard was down.

Eren stood near the far wall. Heedless of the fact that Bertolt was watching, Mikasa allowed herself to look over at him for a moment. He met Mikasa's gaze, expression blank and unreadable, and gave a small nod.

The realization was not like an avalanche. It was snowfall on a quiet day, fragile and understated, yet with the weight and clarity of a moment that you would never be able to forget no matter how hard you tried.

Nothing that Bertolt had said was a lie. He was prepared to die here today.

He was going to let Mikasa kill him.

Mikasa broke the standstill by sliding backward. Careful not to actually lift her feet this time, she slid into the pile of broken wood. As Bertolt started walking forward, she crouched down to drop her makeshift stake and take a shard of the broken table. The edges dug into her hand uncomfortably, but the tip of it was a wicked point. It was smaller than the broken chair leg, so her aim would have to be better, but it would go in more smoothly.

It would mean a less painful death.

New weapon in hand, she waited as Bertolt drew closer. Then, when he reached the edge of the ruined table, she stood up and ran.

The vampire that was supposed to be her enemy pursued, one step behind her. It was, she suspected, one step slower than he was actually capable of. She tore through the foyer, past the great metal door, and into the living room. There, she turned around to face Bertolt, painting an expression of frustration onto her face.

Bertolt approached her with what seemed to be the confident slowness of someone who was sure that the battle was already won.

He took his final steps with the acceptance of someone who had made peace with their fate and done what they could to make it worth it.

"Don't come any closer," Mikasa warned, taking a few steps back. She stopped when her knees hit the couch.

Bertolt offered her a sardonic smile. It wasn't like him, didn't fit right, but she doubted that the people watching them cared enough to know that. He stepped closer and closer, and when he was a few feet away, his face morphed into that of a vampire.

Even gleaming yellow, she thought she saw something sad in his eyes.

What happened next only took a few seconds. Yet time seemed to slow down, the single moment etching itself into her mind in what felt like an eternity. She knew that she would remember it as one.

Bertolt lunged forward.

Mikasa tossed her knife to the side and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down with her as she collapsed onto the couch and bringing him down on top of her. It was close enough that if he changed his mind at the last second, it might well mean the end for her.

Yet he caught himself on the back of the couch, leaving him propped up a few inches above her.

Offering her a clear shot of his heart.

Mikasa looked Bertolt in the eyes and searched for the sadness that she thought she'd seen, for the thing that would compel him to sacrifice himself for his friends. For the speck of humanity that shouldn't have been possible. "Goodbye, Bertolt," she whispered.

Mikasa plunged her stake into Bertolt's chest. When she felt resistance, she pushed harder, straining her muscles and fighting for every last ounce of strength left in her weakened body in an attempt to make it a single, smooth blow.

Bertolt gasped. A trickle of blood slid past his lips as his face slipped back into that of a human. Despite her best attempts, there was pain written across his features. Yet when he looked down at her, his eyes were not angry. "Goodbye, Mikasa."

Mikasa closed her eyes.

And Bertolt turned into dust.

For several seconds, it fell down on her like snow. She didn’t sit up or open her eyes until it stopped. At that point, she spent a long moment doing nothing more than staring at the wall, covered in the ashes of someone who, in another world, could have been a friend.

The speaker crackling to life should have snapped her out of it. Instead, she was aware, but couldn't bring herself to think or feel much of anything.

"Congratulations, Mikasa Ackerman," the same cool voice that had begun this farce proclaimed. "You have passed your Cruciamentum."

A loud screeching sounded from the foyer. It was followed immediately by voices - loud, angry voices. They broke through Mikasa's stupor and drove her to stand up. Unsteady legs carried her out of the living room, dust flaking off of her in her wake. Not enough though - she would need to shower to get rid of it all.

She didn’t make it out of the living room before Hanji Zoe burst into the living room. Absolute fury was etched on their face. However, when they turned around to face Mikasa, it promptly faded away into regret and dismay.

"Mikasa!" they cried, striding over to her. "I am so sorry. We tried to get them to stop once we found out what was happening, but we couldn't-"

"It's fine," Mikasa cut in.

Hanji's face went hard once again. "No," they said, "It isn't."

No, it wasn't. But that was something that she would have to deal with later. It felt like she had a million things to think about, and somehow, what the watcher's council had just put her through didn't come anywhere close to making the top of that list. It wasn't worth the energy it would take to talk about her feelings, so Mikasa didn't say anything. In turn, Hanji hovered, one hand extended as if they wanted to touch Mikasa's shoulder, but weren't sure if the act would be met by violence.

Mikasa allowed her gaze to drift over the watcher's shoulder. Eren was staring at her sadly from the doorway to the dining room. Or at least, as close to sad as he ever seemed to get when he was in that state. It seemed more potent now than it usually ever did.

A hesitant hand finally settled on Mikasa's shoulder. "Mikasa?" Hanji prompted. "Levi and Erwin are waiting outside. Should we get going?"

"Alright," Mikasa murmured. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, but it was nothing compared to the unease she had experienced the past through days. It would be a lie to say that her trust in Erwin was anywhere close to restored, but that fact was that it had been his plan that had helped her defeat Annie. More than likely, she would need to let herself rely on him if she wanted to come out of the fight with Lara alive.

At least she could confidently say that he wouldn't tell the watcher's council that she had passed her cruciamentum by making a deal with her opponent. If he cared about the sanctity of the wicked test, he wouldn't have told her about it in the first place.

A part of her did wonder what he would think about her half of the bargain. She wondered if they would have a problem, if he would want her to go back on her word.

Later. 

All of that could be dealt with later. For now, she allowed herself to lean against Hanji as they walked out of the building. 

There was a slight ache in her left ankle. She didn't know when it had started or what had caused it, but it was there now, making her limp. Other than that, she was uninjured. She was sore and pitifully weak, but the pain would fade and her strength would return to her.

Because Bertolt died, she had escaped with this sadistic test with only a minor injury.

Because he had let her kill him.

Sunlight pulled her out of the thoughts that threatened to drown her. It streamed through the open door into the foyer, mockingly bright and cheerful.

Sunlight. The sun had been setting when Mikasa was captured. Just how long had she been unconscious?

"Armin," Mikasa croaked, the thought of his fate sending a new burst of urgency through her. She stepped away from Hanji just so she could whirl around to face them and grab their upper arm. "What happened to-"

"Armin's fine," Hanji said, reaching over Mikasa's arm to put their own on her shoulder. Where Mikasa knew that her grip was tight and uncomfortable, even if not outright painful, Hanji's touch was heavy in a way that was almost comforting. "The council wanted to hold him for a few hours, but Erwin got them to let him go within an hour of your capture. Then he spent all night fighting for them to call off the cruciamentum."

"So he's safe?" Mikasa pressed. She understood everything that Hanji had said, but she needed more. She needed to hear them say the words.

"Yes, Mikasa. Armin is back home. He's safe."

Mikasa nodded. Armin was safe. The watchers had gotten Armin home and made sure that he was safe. Even if they hadn't been able to stop this whole thing from happening, it was something.

It was more than she had been able to do.

With that, a new, more potent wave of exhaustion settled into her bones. Or maybe it wasn't new at all. Maybe it had already been there, maybe it was just that she hadn't been able to let herself feel it yet. But now, she felt like she would collapse as soon as she was beyond the door.

She couldn't. She would not give the Watcher's Council that pleasure.

Mikasa shrugged Hanji's touch off and continued walking toward the door. The watcher followed close her, concern lingering on their face and Eren standing close beside them. She only glanced back at them for a moment before turning her attention back to the door. To freedom.

The sunlight was warm on her face when she stepped into the doorway. It felt like it shouldn't be. She stepped out of the house and into a golden-brown field beneath a bright blue sky. The area spoke of life and serenity; she felt like it should all be dead and gray. When she looked a little closer, she noticed a handful of cars parked in the distance, and beyond them, a few small, square huts that she assumed were monitoring stations.

Of course. This was an operation that thought that what they were doing was good; of course their setup wouldn't blatantly show the evils they were capable of.

"Ackerman," a voice called from the side. Mikasa turned her head to find Levi marching over. His expression was fighting to remain neutral, yet she could not miss the hard grit of her jaw or the strain around his eyes. "I see you survived."

"I did," Mikasa said. "Bertolt didn't."

Behind her, Hanji made a small, uncomfortable sound. Meanwhile, Levi nodded. "I know. The bastards let us watch."

No, you don't. If they knew, if the truth of what had happened had been at all visible from the cameras, then she would probably be dead. A slayer who couldn't follow the rules, better off replaced.

All of that, the truth, was a conversation for another time. For now, she looked back at Hanji and Eren, then back at Levi, and finally asked, "Can I go home now?"

"Of course," Hanji said, voice soft and kind. "Erwin said he'd meet us at the car - come one."

Hanji didn't outright touch her this time. Instead, they strode purposefully through the field, leaving Mikasa to trail behind. Levi fell in on her right side, Eren on her left.

It didn't take long for Erwin's dark blue minivan to come into view. He was standing by the front of it, arguing fiercely with a well-dressed man with long blond hair. Erwin's features were contorted with anger unlike anything Mikasa had ever seen from him. The other man was holding his hands up placatingly, but appeared unruffled.

Mikasa stopped walking. "Levi, you hate the Watcher's Council, right?" she whispered.

"Yes," Levi said.

Mikasa nodded. "Good."

She started walking again, heading straight for the car without sparing another glance at Erwin or the blond man. However, when the man started speaking, Mikasa froze with her hand on the door handle.

Smooth, calm, and collected. The same voice that had come from the speakers. "Miss Ackerman, I would like to personally congratulate you on-"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Erwin cut in, voice stiff and curt.

The councilman sighed. "I understand that your slayer may be upset, but-"

"Willy," Levi snarled. "If you don't get out of here within the next five seconds, I will fucking gut you."

"Very well," the councilman said, his voice not wavering an inch. "Erwin, I'll be in touch."

Mikasa finally released the door handle and turned her head to find the blond man walking away.

Eren was staring daggers into his back. However, it may well have been overshadowed by the look Erwin was sending him. That look shifted when he turned his gaze to Mikasa.

"There's nothing I can say or do to make up for this," he surmised.

Mikasa looked down at her hands. A good deal of dust still clung to them. Ashes.

"No," she said. "There isn't." She had to talk to him though, about what had happened, about what was to come. For that reason, she looked back up and asked, "Can we talk later?"

"Of course," Erwin said.

He took a step forward and opened the door for her. Mikasa hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. There, she leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

In the darkness, she saw Bertolt's human face.

Chapter Text

Mikasa didn't tell Erwin about the events of the Cruciamentum immediately. It wasn't the best move; she knew that time was of the essence. However, bogged down by exhaustion, dread, and the myriad of complex feelings that she would have to sort through, she couldn't bring herself to care. So she gave herself a day. She went home, washed the ashes off her body, curled up in bed, and tried to pretend that she didn't exist.

The morning after her Cruciamentum, she felt stronger than she had the night before, but not quite at full power. Even so, she pulled herself together, dragged herself out of bed, and went over to Erwin's house. He welcomed her in and sat her down in his office, where she sat down in a green armchair and told him everything.

Erwin listened silently, his expression unreadable for all that his eyes were alight with thought. It made it easier for Mikasa to get through the tale, from the relatively easy beginning, to the point where she had to separate her heart from her mind in order to continue speaking. When she finished, Erwin gave a slow, thoughtful nod.

"I think you made the right decision," he said.

"You condone me working with a vampire?" Mikasa asked.

A vampire who had let her kill him.

A vampire who must have known how easy it would be for her to turn her back on the deal and refuse to uphold her half of the bargain. Even so, he had decided to give her this chance. 

Why? 

Bertolt had given her his reasons, yet something stopped her from making pieces click together to form a full image. You can end this, he had said. What portion of his motivation had been about trying to save his friends versus bringing an end to Tybur's cycle of violence and grief? Did he equate the two? If so, by how much?

Did it matter? It shouldn't, yet the questions were ringing through her mind. They refused to let go even though she knew that she would never get answers. The sharp end of her stake had seen to that.

"I condone you doing whatever was necessary to survive," Erwin said. "My question to you is if you plan on upholding the deal you made."

Of course that was the first thing he asked. Mikasa looked down at her hands. They were perfectly clean, clear of any blood and dust, yet she could feel that layer of grime.

"I don't know," she said.

She had told herself that she would at least seriously consider upholding her end of the bargain, and she was trying to do that. The trouble was that it was one thing to promise something when you half expected that you wouldn't be made to uphold that promise. That the person you were striking a deal with would falter and back down before the very end. It was quite another to find yourself facing the question of forgiveness with hands stained by ash.

"I see," Erwin said. "If Tybur were to be removed from the equation, it is possible that Annie could be reasoned with if she were to wake up. And Hanji already suspected that Reiner may have gotten his soul back based on Connie's account of his attack. But giving either of them a second chance would be a significant risk."

Mikasa's stomach roiled with something sharp and bitter. So Hanji had suspected that Reiner got his soul back, but the watchers had decided not to tell her. She couldn't say that it surprised her. A few days ago, she would have at least asked why, but now... now she knew. The watcher's council knew best. They knew what information was necessary to share and what was better to hold until the right moment. They were the ones who got to decide if she deserved to live. Of course they wouldn't tell her that something had changed about one of her opponents if they thought that it might impact her decision-making abilities and interfere with her duty.

How did she know that Erwin had even actually tried to stop the Cruciamentum? He might have just gotten Hanji and Levi to say that he had in an attempt to gain her trust. Telling her about it, his apparent fury at the council, all of it might have just been some elaborate act.

Mikasa hated it. A part of her suspected that she might yet come to hate Erwin himself. Even so, she needed him. When Lara showed up, she would need him and his mind on her side. Therefore, she didn't ask why they had kept secrets when she knew very well that there was no answer he could come up with that could appease her. She didn't ask how she could trust that he wasn't telling her lie after lie. All she did was look up from her hands, at his face, and ask, "What would the council want me to do?"

Erwin's expression faltered as something cold and angry began to force its way to the surface of his expression. "The council isn't important right now."

"Aren't they?" Mikasa countered.

Erwin stood firm. "No. And you should not worry about how they react to whatever you decide. You are the slayer, this needs to be your choice. Do not let them get in the way of that."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. If she shouldn't worry about how they reacted to her decision, did that mean they wouldn't act adversely? He had to know better than to expect her to believe that. Unless... was Erwin trying to tell her that he would take care of them and whatever threat they may pose? She knew that he wouldn't outright ask her to trust him like that so soon after the Cruciamentum, but the implication certainly seemed to be there.

He did try to stop the Cruciamentum, she reminded herself.

Tried. Tried and failed.

Unless he hadn't. Unless it had all been an elaborate act and she was playing perfectly into the council's trap. She had no reason to believe that he hadn’t, but she also had no solid evidence that he had.

No. She couldn’t afford to get jumpy over such weak and spontaneous suspicions right now.

You need him, she tried instead. Lara is coming. The question of Erwin and his trustworthiness could be left for the future. For now, she had to focus on the conflict at hand and the threat on the horizon.

"It isn't relevant yet either way," Mikasa said. Even as the words left her lips, she knew that it was a weak thing to say, an excuse to buy herself more time to make the decision. She might as well have just said that she didn't know yet, or better yet, that she wasn't sure if she could make the decision with him sitting there and the shadow of the council hanging over her head.

Thankfully, Erwin didn't press. With a small nod, he said, "You're right. Lara needs to be our first priority."

"Yeah," Mikasa murmured. "Do you think... I already told you everything that Bertolt told me. Do you think you could come up with a plan and tell me later?"

"I can come up with several," Erwin said, voice fluctuating in an odd place between jovial and serious. "I will want you to go over them with me to decide which one you're the most comfortable with though."

Mikasa nodded. "I can do that." But not now. She started standing before she had even finished speaking, one hand sliding into her pocket to search for her cellphone.

Erwin raised an eyebrow. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"Yes."

Her answer left much to desire and she knew it. Even so, Erwin accepted it with an easy nod. "Come back over tomorrow; whenever you're free."

"Alright."

With that, Mikasa practically flew out of the house. She was only a few steps off the patio when she pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled open her contacts list. She didn't need to scroll far to find what she was looking for; it was the second name on the list, right below the one that she didn't dare look at for more than a second.

The phone rang twice before Armin's confused yet hopeful voice answered. "Mikasa?"

"Armin," she returned. "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. I was..."

"It's okay!" Armin exclaimed. "I didn't expect you to, considering what you went through."

Something pulsed painfully in Mikasa's chest. It was true that she hadn't been in any state to check on him yesterday, that she had barely even been functional, but it was equally true that Armin deserved to have someone check up on him. The council had gotten ahold of him on her watch. By waiting as long as she had, she was being a bad... slayer.

And the worst part? She wasn't even calling him now just to check on him. That was certainly a part of it, but she was also calling him because there were feelings that she didn't know how to process, an important decision that she wasn't quite sure how to make. Erwin was someone she needed strategically, but right now she needed Armin because... because she did. Because somehow, she had a feeling that he would be able to help her make sense of everything.

It was selfish, but right now, she didn't have it in her to be anything but selfish.

"Can I come over?" she asked.

*

Mikasa hesitated outside of Armin's apartment. There was no real reason for her to hesitate, but it happened anyway, a mystery pain that caused her heart and mind to falter just as she raised her hand to knock. A quick glance revealed that nothing was around her - no friends, no strangers, no enemies. She was all alone, just like she was supposed to be.

She turned her gaze back to the door and forced herself to move her hand. Slowly, slowly, she drew it closer to the door. Then, just when she was about to knock, the hair on the back of her neck rose. Mikasa dropped her hand against the door too quietly to make a noise and looked over her shoulder.

Eren had appeared behind her, offering a small smile. It was a look that reminded her of the boy who had saved her life, not the cold, impersonal figment that had witnessed her Cruciamentum. The observation made her let out a tiny sigh of relief. At the time, the colder version may have been easier to handle than an Eren who was more like Eren, but right now... right now, that version of him would provide no comfort at all.

Comfort. It was foolish of her to be taking comfort in a figment of her imagination in the first place. Dangerous, even. Yet as Eren smiled at her, she could not deny that the notion of facing Armin became that much less daunting. And right now, she was willing to acknowledge that as something she needed.

"Go on," Eren encouraged. "You should talk to him."

Mikasa nodded slowly. "You'll stay?" she whispered.

Eren offered her a nod of his own. "Yeah. I should be good for a little while."

Would he? Despite his claim that she wouldn't have to go through this alone, she had hardly seen him since he made that promise. It was more than before Erwin had told her what was going on, but the fact remained that it felt like his presence was growing less and less reliable over time. Most of the time, she could shrug that off with relative ease. Right now... with everything else that was already going on, she didn't even want to imagine what it would feel like if he disappeared when she actually wanted him there.

But if there was one thing Mikasa had come to learn about Eren, it was that she had no conscious control over when he came and went. She would just have to hope that he kept his word.

Mikasa turned back around and knocked on Armin's door.

Armin answered the door in less than a minute. There was a subtle sort of sadness in his expression, yet his eyes held an undeniable warmth. A shot of pain and guilt ricocheted in Mikasa’s chest at the sight. She really should have checked in on him sooner, no matter how tired she was or daunting it seemed.

"Mikasa," Armin greeted. "I'm glad you came."

He stepped to the side to allow her into his apartment. It was a fairly simple place; the entryway led into a room with off-white walls that held a handful of pictures. To the left, she could make out a partial wall that she assumed blocked off the kitchen. Beyond that, she saw a grey sofa situated in front of a television, two overflowing bookshelves pressed up against the wall behind it. A large window was embedded into the far wall. It looked like a small space, but bright and welcoming. Perfect for Armin. 

Mikasa tried to smile as she walked in. It felt false and uncomfortable on her lips, and judging by the sympathy that flickered across Armin's face, she wasn't doing a good job of making it look genuine either. She let it evaporate with a sigh. 

"Armin," Mikasa returned. "Thank you for…"

Letting her come over? Not being angry with her? Being okay? Existing? She couldn't find the words, so she gave up on trying to speak entirely. Instead, she risked a quick glance over her shoulder. Eren was looking over the area with wide, curious eyes. Something in his expression wavered when his gaze landed on one of the pictures on the wall. It was a painting of the ocean; a sand, shell-speckled shore that gave way to what looked like miles upon miles of glimmering blue water. Eren walked over to the painting and held his hand out to hover just above the canvas, as if he could touch it. His voice was barely even audible as he whispered, "It looks just like…" 

"Mikasa?" Armin asked. 

Mikasa tore her gaze away from Eren and shook her head. "Sorry," she said. "I'm just kind of…" 

"It's okay!" Armin hurried to reassure her. "You're more than allowed to be a little out of sorts. Do…" He looked downward, biting in his lower lip. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

His words brought a spike of pain as all of the tangled feelings lurking inside of her took the opportunity to violently reassert themselves. Did she want to talk about it? No. Talking about it would mean facing that tangle of emotions, which would mean more pain and heartache. It would mean facing the things that she didn't want to face and trying to come to terms with things that she wasn't sure she was ready to handle yet. 

But she had to. She had to do it because she had made a promise, and she needed to get a better idea of whether or not she was going to keep it before she had to face Annie or Reiner. If she ever saw them again. Because Reiner had apparently had a breakdown and disappeared, and Annie… the damage Mikasa had done had been severe. There was no guarantee that she would ever wake up. In fact, it was far more likely that she never would. And that was… 

…It was too much. From Ymir's phone call to the Cruciamentum, the weight of what Mikasa had done, the burning ache of betrayal, the relentless rush with which everything had happened, it was too much to just roll over and accept. But it was also too much to just ignore. Her feelings weren't just sitting inside of her, they were festering. They were rotting her from the inside and wearing her down, and even without taking the promise into account, if Lara was half of what Bertolt said she was, then Mikasa couldn't afford to meet her in this condition. She had to face her feelings and do what she could to pull herself together. 

Mikasa didn't want to talk to someone, she had to. And selfish and irrational though it may be, she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather talk to than Armin… and Eren. 

"Yes," Mikasa whispered. "I want to talk about it. I… I have a lot to tell you."

Armin nodded. He led her over to the couch, and for once, Mikasa did not hesitate to follow. She sat down beside him, Eren moving to hover by the arm of the couch beside her.

Mikasa stared at Armin, trying to figure out what to say, how she could even begin to start saying all the words that needed to come out. Yet nothing came to her. She knew what the starting point had to be, the crux of all this horrible mess, but how could she even begin to fit it into words? Her gaze gradually slid from his face down to her own hands, clasped uselessly in her lap.

In the end, Armin was the one to speak first. "I heard... Erwin said that you had to fight Bertolt."

"I did," Mikasa murmured. "But I need to tell you about something before that. I..."

Eren moved to place a hand on her shoulder. No real contact was made, but he let it hover there all the same. "Just say it," he said. "Armin won't judge you. But you need to say it."

But what was there to say? How could she even begin to translate her feelings into words?

She supposed she could try by saying the things that she knew to be the truth.

Mikasa lifted her head up and looked Armin in the eyes as she said, "There was something between me and Annie."

Because there had been. She didn't know if it was just physical or if it truly had the potential to be something more. If it could have been something more, then it never got far enough for her to get a good idea of exactly what it might have looked like. But there had been something there. They had been something.

She allowed herself to pause for only a heartbeat before continuing. "I kissed Annie the night before Ymir told us everything, while we were patrolling."

Because she had. Mikasa had saved Annie from a demon that got the upper hand on her, and Annie, breathless and covered in bright green blood, had looked beautiful. So beautiful that for once, Mikasa had thrown caution to the wind and taken what she wanted. And then the thing she wanted tried to kill her the very next day.

"I see," Armin said, voice hesitant for all that it was gentle. "If you don't mind me asking, how... how did she react?"

Mikasa blinked. "How did she... react?"

Annie had kissed her back. Slowly, hesitantly, briefly, but she had kissed her back. In the moment, it had been wonderful. Now, the memory of it made Mikasa's stomach twist.

"Did you talk about it after?" Armin asked.

"Oh," Mikasa whispered. "No. We just... kissed, and then went back to patrolling."

At the time, Mikasa had assumed that it meant that they were going to feel things out and see what happened. That neither of them wanted to push their luck or try to force anything. She'd thought that they were being cautious while also not closing the door on the possibility of whatever they could be. Now, with Annie's betrayal hanging over her head, she couldn't help but wonder if kissing her back had been an attempt to lure her closer.

Or maybe, just maybe, Annie had been guarding her own heart in preparation for what was to come.

But what were the odds of that? What were the chances that Mikasa was just being hopeful, trying to see affection where they had never been any at all?

Mikasa allowed her gaze to drift away from Armin's face, toward a picture that hung just above the television. It displayed an attractive young blond couple. She could only assume that they were Armin's parents. He'd told her once that they had died in a car crash when he was young, leaving him to be raised by his grandfather.

She wondered how he could look at the picture without hurting. All of her photos of her parents were hidden at the bottom of her chest, hidden away alongside an old red scarf.

"Do you think..." Armin's voice was hesitant, the voice of someone scared of overstepping or accidentally hurting someone who was already in a fragile state. It may have chafed if Mikasa were a little less self-aware of how she must seem right now. "Do you think she had feelings for you as well?"

Had feelings for you. Mikasa hadn't outright said that she had feelings for Annie, just that they'd kissed. And yet, it didn't feel false.

Mikasa shrugged and looked back down at her hands. "She tried to stab me."

Eren walked around to stand in front of Mikasa. He crouched down to be level with her, and Mikasa had to force herself not to reflexively look up to meet his gaze. "Annie was in a complicated situation," he said. "Just because she hurt you doesn't mean that she didn't care. What about..." He stood up in a sudden flurry of motion. "What about the fight?" he asked.

Mikasa wasn't able to keep herself from looking up to face him then. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Armin frown, but he didn't comment. She supposed that was one benefit of coming out of a horrific situation. People were less likely to question it when you acted somewhat insane.

"How did Annie act when you fought her?" Eren elaborated. "Did she hesitate at all? Did she pause?"

A whisper slipped past Mikasa's lips before she could stop it, propelled forward by a realization that chilled her to the bone. "...Yes."

"Yes, you think she had feelings for you as well?" Armin asked.

Mikasa shook her head. "No. I mean... I don't know. But, on the rooftop, when we were fighting... Annie hesitated. She hesitated at a critical moment, and I..." Mikasa's breath hitched as a weight settled in her chest. It made her double forward and cross her arms over her stomach as she choked, unsure of if she wanted to laugh or cry.

While Eren took a step back, alarm on his face, Armin lurched forward and put a hand on Mikasa's shoulder. "Mikasa!" he exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head, a faint, hiccuping laugh-like sound escaping her throat. No, she wasn't okay. Mikasa couldn't be okay, because now that she had looked back, she knew. Annie hadn't hesitated because she was scared - she had hesitated because there was a part of her, no matter how small, that hadn't wanted to kill her. There was a part of her that may have cared after all. It might not have all been a lie. And because Annie had hesitated...

"...I stabbed her," Mikasa breathed. "Armin, I was able to stab her because she hesitated. If she did care about me..." She forced herself to straighten up, heedless of the ache in her stomach. "If she cared about me, then it nearly got her killed."

Armin's hand dropped down from her shoulder to rub circles against her back. "It was you or her," he said. "It... it would have been wonderful if it could have gone differently. This entire time, I've been wondering if there might have been another way. But as it played out... Mikasa, please don't tear yourself up over this."

Mikasa slowly shook her head. "There might still be another way," she whispered.

Armin's hand paused. "Mikasa?"

Mikasa shot a hesitant glance at Eren, who gave her an encouraging nod.

"I didn't just kill Bertolt," she admitted. "We struck a deal. He let me kill him."

Armin dropped his hand back down to his side. "What sort of deal?"

"He told me everything he knew about Tybur. I'll tell you more about it later, but... he told me about the leaders of Tybur. He told me who'll be coming after me, and he told me her weakness. He told me..." Mikasa paused to swallow down the lump in her throat. It was beginning to sting, but she forced herself to keep speaking anyway. "He told me what it was like to work for Tybur."

"I take it that it wasn't good," Armin whispered.

"Worse than you could imagine," Eren murmured.

"No," Mikasa said. "It wasn't. But he told me everything, and in exchange, he asked me to give Annie and Reiner another chance. And then he let me kill him."

She'd already said that part. Yet it didn't feel like she had repeated herself, for it just didn't feel real enough for that. It felt like it shouldn't have been possible, yet the ashes that had clung to her hands and Bertolt's sad, accepting expression, etched into the backs of her eyelids, told her that it had happened.

Mikasa looked back down at her hands. Her knuckles were white from how tightly they were clasped. She tried to loosen her grip somewhat, but her fingers did not comply. Meanwhile, Armin had gone completely quiet. That quiet felt almost like it lasted forever.

It was broken when Armin whispered, "Maybe he was our friend after all."

Mikasa didn't know why those were the words that broke her. All she knew was that she heard them and something in her crumpled . She leaned forward on herself, burying her face in her hands, and held her breath to try to hold back her sobs. It was a wasted effort - her shoulders still shook. Armin threw an arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer, until she was sprawled over his lap and leaning against his chest.

"It's going to be alright," Armin whispered.

No, it isn't, Mikasa wanted to say. It couldn't be alright because it already wasn't right. What had happened, all of it... it wasn't right. It wasn't fair. It was cruel, and Mikasa wanted to be strong and find something beautiful in it, but right then she didn't have any idea how.

Bertolt had been nice. Unassuming. Maybe not a hero, but not a demon either. Or at least, he shouldn't have been. Lara Tybur had made him into one, and he didn't have the willpower to do anything but follow her commands and work for her wretched organization.

Not until the end, at least. Not until he struck a deal with his enemy for the sake of helping the people he had managed to care about despite his vampiric nature. Except they weren't enemies in the end, were they? Bertolt had multiple opportunities to kill her during the Cruciamentum, but he didn't. He had helped her, even though it meant annihilating even the remotest chance that he might escape with his life. He had put his faith in her by asking her to end Tybur's cycle of hate and save his comrades. His friends. She hadn't even thought that vampires were capable of having friends, and yet...

Bertolt was a monster. Mikasa could not deny that much. Yet he was a monster who could have been a friend in another world. In the end... maybe it was more than a 'could have been'. He had deserved better than being turned into a monster to serve as Tybur's pawn. He had deserved better. But there was nothing that she could do for him. All she could do was keep her promise and help the ones he had sacrificed his life for. But that was where half of the problem lay, because where the problem of Bertolt seemed clear-cut and crystal clear in retrospect, Reiner and Annie...

She had come dangerously close to trusting Reiner. When he gave her advice, she had considered if. She had followed it. Even if she had never reached the point of truly considering any of her companions her friends before Ymir revealed the truth, there had been a part of her that had wanted him to be her friend.

Yet the truth was that Reiner had died before she'd even met him. He was turned into a monster to serve as a ruthless organization's consolation prize, and although there was the possibility that he had done one good thing, the fact remained that his actions were seeped in blood.

And she had wanted to be his friend. In another world, maybe they could have been. But instead, Tybur had left her to face an unforgivable monster.

Annie wasn't a monster. She had done monstrous things, but she wasn't a monster. Mikasa understood that now. She was someone who had been used and manipulated to a point where she never truly had the chance to be anything but one of the worst versions of herself.

What would Annie have been in another world? Probably still a slayer - Mikasa couldn't picture her as anything else. But what more would she be? Probably still someone with the potential to be ruthless, but knew how to pull her hits at the last minute. Someone who knew how to expend mercy beyond moments of hesitation that nearly cost her her own life. Maybe, if she had been allowed to grow into what she was supposed to be, she would have been someone who followed her heart and did what she thought was right. Someone who held tightly to the ones she loved, but also did not dismiss the lives of innocents. A hero.

In another world, Annie may have been someone Mikasa could have loved.

But they weren't in another world. Mikasa had to contend with the world they lived in, and that was a world where Annie had betrayed her calling as the slayer by killing human beings. She was a murderer. Mikasa could not forget that, nor could she ignore the fact that Annie would pose an incredible danger if she ever awakened.

"I want to make it right," Mikasa whispered. "But I don't know how."

Except that was a lie. She knew what her duty dictated that she do. The problem was that whenever she thought of it, her heart was grasped by pain and she saw Bertolt's face, felt Annie's lips against her own. But that didn't matter, right? She was the slayer. She shouldn't let it matter.

"I should kill them," she whispered. "If Annie wakes up, or I ever see Reiner again, I should kill them, no matter what I said. It shouldn't even be a question."

Armin ran one of his hands through her hair. "Maybe," he murmured. "But maybe not. Annie... I don't think she was ever truly evil, and I think you know that too. And Reiner... if you're conflicted about him too, then I trust that you have a reason for it. People are complicated. Sometimes someone crosses a line that there's no coming back from, but that... that doesn't mean that they can't still become better people. But you'll never know if you don't give them a chance."

No, she wouldn't know. A broken promise would mean yet another 'could have been' haunting her. But was that truly worse than taking a gamble on people who had done heinous things? Who had wronged her so severely?

Mikasa looked up and sought Eren's gaze. 

Eren stared at her for several long moments before whispering, "It's okay if you don't hate them. They've done horrible things, but they're victims too. I know that it may not seem like that now, but the truth is, they aren't unforgivable. They never were."

Mikasa looked away. What Eren said was bold, far bolder than she had expected. Not unforgivable? That sounded blatantly false. It sounded false for Annie, for all that she had been manipulated, and it especially sounded false for Reiner, soul or no soul. And yet... he spoke of the truth. Mikasa had started this conversation by holding on to simple truths. And now, another one had wedged itself in her chest. The truth was...

"I don't want to kill Annie."

"Then don't," Armin said. "Or at least, give her a chance to prove that she can do better if she wakes up."

Mikasa nodded slowly. Giving Annie a second chance may be going against her duty, but... who was going to hold her accountable for it? The Watcher's Council? If she had learned anything over the past several weeks, it was that they were only a few steps about Tybur themselves. They had no right to judge or control her. She was the slayer, and if she wanted to give a second chance to a girl who had never gotten the chance to be a good person, then she would.

Reiner... he was harder, more complicated. He had killed more people than Annie, done more harm in the long run. He had killed someone who he'd called friend. Maybe he wasn't a slayer, but he had more than proven that he was dangerous. Even if he had a reason for what he had done, the fact remained that what he had done was horrible. What he had chosen to do. His death would be perfectly justified, and Mikasa's chest didn't hurt at the thought of staking him like it did when she thought about killing Annie.

But Bertolt had died for her. He had died for her, and he'd been so certain that Reiner was different now, had put so much weight on him while asking her to spare him. If she was going to give Annie another chance, shouldn't she consider doing the same for him?

The thought made cold, hurt, burning, frustrated feelings well up in her. It ate away at any contentment she'd felt over figuring out what to do about Annie, which in turn made her come to a decision. Later. She would decide what to do about Reiner later, once she knew if he was even alive or not. For now, she could say that she was going to uphold at least half of her promise.

No, more than half. She could see now that her promise was two-fold. She would give Bertolt's friends a second chance, or at least Annie, but she would also bring an end to the one who had caused all this heartache in the first place.

Mikasa Ackerman was going to kill Lara Tybur. No matter what.

Her resolve did not make the pain disappear. But it hardened it into something she could use, a weapon rather than a hindrance.

"I know what I'm going to do," Mikasa said, pulling away from Armin.

Armin smiled. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Eren mirror it. "I'm glad," he said. "I... I hope I was able to help."

"You did. And... Armin?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for being my friend."

Chapter Text

Four days after her Cruciamentum, on a bright, sunny Friday, Mikasa's strength returned to her in full. It was then that she was able to bring herself to visit the hospital.

The morning sunlight streamed through a window and onto Annie's face. She had not changed since Mikasa had seen her last, yet Mikasa could not deny that her perception had shifted. It was harder to ignore the sense of grief that welled up in her chest as she stared at her in the hospital bed.

Mikasa may have been the one to stab Annie, yet it had been her own choices that led her to that point. She knew that. Even now, she wasn't about to let herself forget it. Everyone had free will, but Annie hadn’t realized it. 

Except. Would it even matter if she did? Just how much did that free will matter when someone had been trained to live in terror of the consequences of deviating away from the road set out before them? How could you expect someone to choose a different path when they had never been taught how?

So many questions, and Mikasa had no answers. In the end, all she could do was hold on to what she had decided and hope she was making the right choice. If it even mattered in the end. If Annie ever woke up. It was not an easy choice, and she knew that the doubt would weigh over her until Annie either woke up or passed away. But it was something, and that something was better than the conflicting state of anger and denial that she had been caught in before. It gave her a sort of freedom, allowed her to feel the things that she hadn't been willing to acknowledge until then.

Mikasa had been determined to see Annie as a murderer. She was - there was nothing in the world that would change that. Yet as she stared at Annie, for the first time, she didn't feel like she had to try to see a monster. Instead, she looked at her and saw a victim.

"Hello, Annie," Mikasa whispered. She shrugged off her leather jacket, draped it over the back of one of the uncomfortable blue chairs by Annie's bed, and sat down. Somehow, she had a feeling that she would be there for a while. "It's been a while. I've been... busy."

Fighting for her life. Getting ready to do it again. Contending with a deal that would have been unthinkable less than a week ago. Putting herself back together so that it wouldn't all be for nothing. Busy. What would Annie think of it all, if she were awake to hear her?

Was there a chance that she could hear her now? Feel her?

Hesitantly, Mikasa reached out and took Annie's limp hand in her own. "I have a lot to tell you."

*

One week later, Mikasa sucked in a refreshing breath of December air as she approached the hospital. Paradis didn't get particularly cold in the winter even though it was in one of the more temperate parts of Arizona. However, there was still enough of a chill for Mikasa to wear a pair of red gloves and her leather jacket. She had almost searched for a scarf before a painful memory flared up in her mind and stayed her hand.

The walk to the hospital from her apartment was short enough not to be laborious, but also long enough to decently stretch her muscles. On that morning, she found it pleasant. It put her in a somewhat good mood by the time the hospital building came into view.

Paradis Community Hospital was a bland and unexciting sight. The beige lobby walls and tan carpeting did nothing to inspire any bright feelings. Once she walked a little further in, she knew that she would be met by off-white walls and pristine hallways that only held the occasional picture, each one a feeble attempt to distract from the maze of emptiness. The people in there were rarely happy, and the entire building held an unnatural, overly sanitized scent. No matter what mood Mikasa was in, it always made her feel a little worse to walk through the front door. Today, she tried to ignore it as she approached the receptionist and said that she was there to see Annie.

Getting checked in was a routine procedure by now. It wasn't long before she received permission to go ahead. She walked through the empty, sterile hallways, trying not to take them in too deeply, before turning into the room that had become a familiar sight by now.

Annie's room was only marginally brighter than the rest of the hospital, but it was something. A bouquet of sunflowers had come to rest by her bedside at some point during the past week. By the windowsill sat a smaller, slimmer vase containing three red roses. That one had arrived three days ago. Mikasa walked over to the vase and gently fingered the edge of one of the blossoms, pleased to see that they still looked lively. She wouldn't have to replace them for a while yet.

With a sigh, Mikasa finally turned around to face the girl laying in the bed. She pulled her gloves off and stuffed them in her pocket as she approached the chair that she had come to somewhat view as her chair. The coat came off next; she folded it up neatly before draping it over the back of the chair and sitting down.

"Hello, Annie," she said. "It's been..." she paused, letting the beginnings of a small, empty smile pull at the corners of her lips. "Nothing much has happened since yesterday. Nothing." She looked down at her hands, back to being as strong as they had been, but still not fast enough to do everything that she needed them to. Not alone. "I didn't run into anything on patrol, but I stayed out late enough that I wasn't able to study when I got home. I think I'm going to fail my finals."

No, not think. She was most definitely going to fail her finals. There was no one she could turn toward to help her pick up slack so that she could focus.

“It’s not that I want to fail,” Mikasa murmured. “It’s just…” 

As much as it rankled to ask for help, if things were different, then she probably would have done it. She would have forced herself to turn to Erwin to see if she could come up with something, maybe even ask if Levi could help her pick up some of the slack. But with the threat of Tybur looming, she didn't dare. When Lara came for her, she needed to be met by a slayer who was ready to give her all. If giving her all meant permanently tarnishing her GPA and possibly losing access to financial aid, then so be it.

“...It doesn’t matter, compared to everything else,” Mikasa finished. “I’ll just have to deal with it.

She paused, then looked back up at Annie. “What about you?” she whispered. “Are you at peace right now?”

Annie certainly looked peaceful right now. But was there any truth to it? Or was she caught in a hellish stasis, trapped in an unmoving body with no way out? Of course, that assumed that Annie was even still in there. The doctors said that she had been showing faint brain waves recently, but those were also common in vegetative patients. What if her mind and soul had moved on and left her body behind? What if Annie had left them without even dying?

“Are you even still in there? Am I…” Mikasa swallowed heavily, the words getting caught in her throat. She forced them out anyway, lest they lingered until she choked on them. “Am I the only slayer after all?”

Mikasa’s gaze caught on something glimmering in the sunlight streaming down onto Annie's face. A lock of hair had come to rest over the other slayer's face again. She raised her hand and slowly, carefully, reached out to brush it aside. Her fingertips likely skimmed Annie's forehead in the process. She was warm to the touch; not feverish, but alive.

“No, ” Mikasa murmured, the sentiment wrapped in an unearned yet unwavering certainty. “You're still here.”

She clasped her hands in her lap as she leaned back into her chair. That only lasted for a moment. Unthinkingly, she pulled one of her hands away and ran it through her hair with a sigh. "What were you going to do for finals?" she whispered. "If Ymir hadn't called, would your plan have taken that long? Or would the three of you have already left by then?"

If Tybur's plan was still going forward unimpeded and they hadn't already tried to kill her, Annie would be staying close and trying to remain in her good graces. She probably would have suggested that they take turns patrolling so that each of them could study at least half of the time, since she wouldn't want Mikasa to know that her grades and whether she passed or failed wasn't actually a priority to her. Finals would be far less of a concern, but Mikasa would be entirely unaware of the real threat on her heels.

Or maybe she wouldn't be. Maybe Tybur's plan would have unraveled even if Ymir hadn't gotten involved. If Reiner did have his soul returned and Bertolt was right about it coming from the vengeance demon, maybe he would have crumbled and told them everything. Or maybe he wouldn't. After all, a soul did not necessarily make someone a good person, Bertolt had thought that Reiner had decided to kill his victims for the sake of one girl. A soul may have made him feel remorse, but in theory, it would also make him care more about whoever he was trying to protect. There was every chance that he would have continued to do the same damn thing regardless of demonic intervention.

But there was also Annie herself to consider. If they had had more time, if they had gotten closer, then maybe-

No. What had happened happened, and she was still alive and Tybur no longer had a slayer, so she supposed that she should be happy for it. She couldn't allow herself to waste her time with what-ifs. In the end, all they could do was bring her heartache.

Besides, she didn’t want to talk to Annie about what could have happened if the traitorous trio had done things differently. On the off chance that she could hear it, it would doubtlessly hurt. And maybe she deserved for it to hurt. But… Mikasa didn’t want to say it, not when the other slayer couldn’t respond. That left her to try to find something else to say. Yet as she stared at Annie, she couldn’t think of anything meaningful to say, or even anything meaningless to fill the quiet. Yet she couldn’t leave yet; it didn’t feel like it was time.

Maybe she didn't need to say anything. Maybe the best thing would be to just sit in silence for a while. Most of the difficult things had already been said on her first visit after the Cruciamentum, and everything that was left to be said... there would be plenty of time for that. Whether it was said to a slumbering figure or a miracle occurred and she was met by open eyes, the fact remained that she had time.

As if to challenge that notion, the handle to Annie's door began to turn.

Mikasa turned her head to see a stately young woman step into the room. She wore a long black dress with a high white neckline and walked with an undeniable sense of grace and confidence. With her black hair pulled up into a neat bun, Mikasa couldn't help but think that she didn't look out of place in the hospital. Her serene expression certainly gave her a sense of ease and comfort. Yet when her gray eyes landed on Mikasa, she found that they were sharp and piercing.

"Oh," the woman said. "I'm sorry. They didn't tell me someone was already here."

Of course not. The hospital staff had probably expected anyone visiting Annie to already know that she was there, considering the frequent sight she had become. They probably thought they knew each other. After all, Annie didn't get visitors aside from herself, Armin, and occasionally Erwin or Hanji. They were the only ones who knew to visit the lost girl in the hospital bed.

Them, and the one who Bertolt had told her would come.

Cold grey met cold gray as Mikasa lifted her gaze to meet the visitor's. "I've been waiting for you, Lara."

Surprise flickered across Lara's face. It was promptly smoothed over in favor of something politely curious, brushing any faint satisfaction that she may have felt aside with it. "Mikasa Ackerman, I assume." She took a step further into the room and smoothed out the front of her dress. "I must say, you've caused us a fair bit of trouble."

"Have I?" Mikasa asked, not daring to turn her gaze away from Lara for even an instant. "Because with an organization as strong as Tybur, I've been having trouble figuring out why you would even bother with me."

"You mean you don't know?" Lara asked, a hint of derision making its way into her tone. "If you knew to expect me, I can only assume that one of my warriors wasn't as loyal as I'd hoped. Do you mean to say that they didn't tell you everything, then?"

Mikasa pursed her lips. "They didn't have any reason to be loyal to you. They were scared of you; loyalty and fear aren't the same thing."

Fear could drive someone to do terrible things, but loyalty had the potential to overwrite fear. It could push a soulless thing to spend their last moments doing something selfless.

Lara gave a small nod. "Bertolt, then. He always was the most cowardly of the three."

All of them, Mikasa thought. Only one of them had actually helped her, but in the end, she doubted that any of them were truly loyal to Tybur.

Out loud, she said, "He was brave enough to tell me how to kill you."

"I see," Lara said. "But he didn't bother explaining how you've become such a problem for us?"

No. Of course not - with the warning that had to be given and everything that she needed him to explain, the story that he needed to tell to buy even a fragment of her trust, there wasn't time to explain the exact details of why Lara was coming. Mikasa didn't say that though, just continued to pierce the vampire before her with a condemning glare.

"I see," Lara repeated. She walked over to Annie's bedside. Mikasa immediately stood up, and the vampire responded by raising one hand and shaking her head. "Relax," she said. "I don't plan on causing a scene in a hospital."

"No. You just wanted to slip in and kill her."

"And now that you're here, I can't do that without causing a scene." Lara slowly grabbed one of the chairs, dragged it a few feet away from Annie, and sat down.

Mikasa stepped closer to Annie, so that she was standing directly over her bed.

Lara smiled politely. "As I was saying, if Bertolt couldn't be bothered to tell you everything, perhaps I should shed some light on the matter?"

"You'd do that?" Mikasa asked warily.

"Why not?" Lara returned. "It's highly unlikely that it will do anything to change the outcome of this story."

Mikasa crossed her arms. "Alright then. Tell me. You're immortal, but slayers live short lives. Why not just wait for me to die?"

Lara gave her a long, searching look before clasping her hands, crossing one leg over the other, and launching into her explanation. "At first, it was because as the slayer, you were one of the only people who posed a real threat to Annie. We wanted you out of the way so that we could continue our plans without worrying about an eventual confrontation. So we sent out a team. Annie was well-trained, Bertolt was strong and experienced, and we even equipped Reiner with the Gem of Amara. They seemed guaranteed to be able to take you down."

"But they didn't," Mikasa said.

"Correct. Annie was bested, Bertolt turned out to be a traitor, and although we don't know what happened to Reiner, the rumors aren't promising. They were supposed to be our strongest warriors, and they were utterly devastated. But you're still standing. Do you see why that may cause problems?"

A thought flew through Mikasa's mind, a memory of a conversation between two desperate people. "...I do," she said. "This isn't about killing a slayer - it's about maintaining control over Tybur. Bertolt said that you and your brother present yourselves as unstoppable. But if your strongest team could be defeated, it reflects badly on you. Your followers are starting to doubt that you're everything you say you are, and if that happens, you're afraid that they'll stop listening to you. Like Bertolt did. Because your people aren't actually loyal to you, they're just scared."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Lara said. "I understand; you're young and easily swept up in strong emotions and grand notions. But let me give you some advice. Loyalty may be strong, but it is unreliable and difficult to come by. Fear is dependable. It can drive people together as easily as it can push them apart. I know that you may disapprove of what we do, but Tybur's goal is to bring peace to the world. That cannot be accomplished unless we get a reign on the supernatural world - end this ceaseless struggle between good and evil, vampire versus slayer. And sweet though it may be to think otherwise, loyalty cannot make that happen. Fear can. The knowledge that there is something bigger and stronger than you, and that if you move against it and threaten to throw the world back into disarray, there will be consequences. Our methods may be cruel, but our goal is a good one."

"It sounds like you're trying to sell me something," Mikasa said.

Lara smiled thinly. "Perhaps I am."

Pure and unbridled disgust flowed through Mikasa, making her curl her upper lip and shake her head ever so slightly. "I'm not going to work for you."

"I'm not even asking for that." Lara dropped her hands to her sides, uncrossed her legs, and sat up a little straighter. "You're right, your life is short. Your head on a plate would be the fastest way to bring Tybur back to order, but there are other methods. Mikasa Ackerman... you may be strong, but do you really think you could survive a battle with me?"

Confidence shone in Lara's eyes. It was highlighted by the sun that shone on her through the hospital window, sunlight that was not causing her any visible discomfort. Perhaps it would make her burn in time, but the reaction was too slow for it to provide Mikasa with any workable advantage. If that was true, then it was likely true that a stake to the heart would be useless as well. There was only one reliable way to defeat this foe, and even with Erwin's strategies at her back, Mikasa had to admit to herself that she didn't know if a battle with Lara was one that she would come out of alive.

"If you stay out of my way, you'll never have to find out," Lara said. Her words were as sweet as honey, and the sound of them made Mikasa's heart harden.

"Stay out of your way," Mikasa repeated. "You mean if I let you kill Annie."

"The slayer line runs through her now," Lara affirmed. "These events have been an unfortunate setback, but if it moves on, I am sure the day will come when Tybur stands strong once again. There is no reason for you to die, Mikasa. Just continue living your life and forget that any of this ever happened."

For the first time since the conversation started, Mikasa looked away from Lara and down at Annie. A person who had betrayed her trust and tried to kill her. A murderer. The girl who might have been someone to her, if they ever had the chance. A girl who may have been a good person, if she ever thought she had the chance.

Her fellow slayer.

Mikasa took Annie's hand and set an unwavering glare upon Lara.

"I see," Lara murmured. "But why? After all that she's done, why would you risk your life for her?"

"I made a promise."

A promise not only to at least consider forgiveness, but to end the cycle that had brought them to this place in the first place. If Tybur was already so unstable that Lara had to seek her out because her plan had failed, then what would happen if she died? A group led by fear wasn't just disloyal, it was fragile.

If Mikasa took Lara's head, then all of Tybur would start to unravel. She could end this.

She would end it. Even if she lost her own life in the process.

"Loyalty," Lara murmured. She rose to her feet with a heavy sigh. "I wish you luck, you foolish girl. I will come for you this weekend."

"You're going to die," Mikasa promised.

The corners of Lara's lips turned upward. "Perhaps. If you're as strong as they say, if luck is on your side, then perhaps. But even so... I think you should begin to pray."

With that, the vampire walked out of the hospital room, unruffled as she had been from the moment the confrontation began.

Mikasa let go of Annie's hand and sat back down. She stayed by her side until visitation hours ended.

Then she called Erwin.

Chapter Text

The next twenty-four hours passed in a hurried daze. After getting off the phone with Erwin, Mikasa called Armin, Jean, Sasha, and Connie and warned them not to leave their homes under any circumstances. Talking to them made her feel a spark of shame for how she had avoided them since the Cruciamentum. Yes, she had told them what had happened, but she hadn't had a true conversation with any of them in well over a week. She didn't know how to face it; if she spoke to them, there would be concern and questions. It would be a repeat of what had happened with Armin, and although that had been good, necessary, she didn't think that she wanted to repeat it with the other three.

She was starting to think that she should reach out to them though. If she survived this, if they didn't get hurt for being associated with her, then maybe she could take that risk. That was a matter for later though. Right now, she had to focus on the situation at hand. Her reality was that she didn't know if Lara would try going after them to get to her. If she had planned on it, then having them stay home was about the extent of what she could do until she finally met Lara in combat. Bertolt hadn’t said anything to suggest that Lara could enter homes uninvited. That, at least, gave Mikasa some small measure of relief. It was also what drove her to stay inside her own apartment for most of the day.

Erwin was with her for the first half of the day. She offered to plan over the phone, but he was unwavering in his insistence that they speak in person, pointing out that Tybur had already bugged their communications once. A small part of her felt guilty for making him come to her. The larger part of her realized that it was the logical thing to do. If she left her apartment, that left her open to getting attacked by Lara and pulled into a fight before she was truly ready for it. If he came to her, then there was a chance that Lara would intercept and attack him on his way to her apartment, but she didn’t have a way to get to Mikasa herself. That was good. She was the slayer, he was the watcher. If one of them was going to be attacked, strategy said that it would be better if it was him.

Even if it wasn't enough to smother the guilt, there was still that seed of distrust and resentment within her, saying that after what the council had done, Erwin should be the one to take that risk. It was a small thing, but potent enough to hold its footing amidst more dominant thoughts and feelings.

All of her rationalizations and mixed feelings barely even mattered in the end. Erwin made it over safely and made no complaints or protests about the risk. They spent hours finalizing their plan. There was still time before sunset when he moved to leave. However, he paused when he reached the door, turning around to face Mikasa with bright blue eyes that glimmered brightly with resolve. Resolve, fury, the power to fight, those were the things that Mikasa saw. The things that she expected to see. Yet when he spoke, something appeared behind that drive, the phantom flicker of something soft and sad. "Mikasa."

Mikasa frowned. "Yes?"

"Come back alive."

Mikasa's frown deepened as her lips twisted in confusion. "I thought that killing Lara was the priority," she pointed out.

Lara was a very old, very powerful vampire who served as one of the leaders of a group so powerful that it had even managed to turn a slayer into its puppet. What was the life of a single slayer compared to that?

Erwin offered her a frown of his own. "It is, but I don't want you to die here. This is me telling you to fight your hardest and do everything you can to get out of this alive."

If you lose, you die. If you win, you live.

A painful lump formed in Mikasa's throat. She forced herself to speak around it. "I'll try."

Erwin gave a small nod. "That's all I can ask."

With that, he left her apartment.

Mikasa waited a few seconds before walking toward her room. She was halfway there when she became aware of a presence following behind her. "Eren," she greeted without turning to look at him.

"You're getting ready to fight," came Eren's voice, cool and controlled.

"Of course," she said, pausing only long enough to open the unmarked white door that led to her bedroom. "It needs to happen."

She started to cross the room in long, easy strides.

"Do you remember what I told you on that day?" Eren asked.

Mikasa paused and swallowed heavily. "You weren't the one that said that."

"Maybe not, but someone must have said it. Do you remember?"

Of course I do. They were among his last words, after all. A desperate plea. An encouragement. A wish, a demand. A promise that she had never been able to properly keep.

Mikasa started moving again. There were two chests in her room. The smaller one was tucked away in her closet, containing artifacts that she couldn't bear to part with, yet didn't dare look at. The larger one, the one she approached, was pressed up against the foot of her bed. She crouched down in front of it, undid the latch on the front, and flipped it open.

A selection of daggers were attached to the chest’s inner lid. The chest itself held layers of weapons, separated by sheets of sturdy fabric. A trio of crossbows, several bunches of bolts, and a handful of stakes sat on the surface. She carefully lifted them up to get to the weapon beneath them, the sword that she hadn't touched for weeks. Mikasa pulled it out and stared at it for several long seconds before rising to her feet.

Eren was standing in front of her when she turned around. His expression was unreadable, and when he spoke, his voice was detached, but it was also as soft as it ever got when he was in that state. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Mikasa didn't hesitate. "No."

Eren nodded and disappeared.

Mikasa stared at where he had vanished for only a few moments before setting the sword on her bed and changing into something more fit for combat. Sweat pants, a sports bra, and a long-sleeved activewear shirt, all in muted colors. They wouldn't restrict her movement or catch people's eyes if anyone spotted her before the sun went down. Of course, the sword might be a bit of an issue, but there was nothing to be done about that. She would just have to hope that no one unexpected happened upon her while she was waiting.

With two hours left until sunset, Mikasa pulled on her sneakers, grabbed her bag, and left her apartment with her sword in hand.

*

Normally, it would have taken Mikasa at least half an hour to reach her destination. Today, moving as fast as she could, it took her a little more than fifteen minutes. She didn't catch so much as a glimpse of Lara in the time that it took her to get there. In her mind, that was enough to all but confirm one of her theories. Even if Lara was keeping a close eye on her, she wasn't going to jump at the first opportunity to attack her. She wasn't going to rush.

That could be a good or bad thing for her. On one hand, it was a relief to know that she wouldn't be pulled into a battle immediately. On the other, depending on just how long it took for Lara to show up... she did not look forward to seeing how the waiting game dragged on.

Mikasa heaved a heavy sigh as she stepped off the paved path. With steady footsteps, she walked across the grass, further down the trail, toward the river. Once the toes of her boots were poking at the shoreline’s edge, she stopped. She could make out the shape of the dock some ways upstream of her. When she looked the other way, she saw the abandoned factory. She stared at it for a moment, something painful tugging at her chest, before making her way toward it.

Her feet were not retracing the same footsteps from that night. Her chase had taken place several yards away from the river, but now she walked beside it. That night had been a frantic dance, but now her steps were calm and even. Then, she had turned and lured her prey into the factory. Now, she paused to stare when she reached the building, her gaze automatically drawn to the roof, but she only allowed herself to pause for the barest of moments before continuing on her way.

The further she walked, the more signs of civilization faded. Carefully cultivated oak trees began to give way to natural-growing pine, which popped up with more frequency and began to creep closer and closer to the river's shores. There were only a scant handful of yards between them and the water by the time the sand beneath her shoes started to give way to a myriad of stones. The river itself grew wider and the waters grew wilder, speeding up as the current was given more room to rage.

Orange glimmered on the horizon by the time Mikasa came to a stop. She found herself in something of a clearing, the line of trees having drawn back several dozen yards and formed a loose ring around the area. Grass could be seen between the trees, but the clearing itself was filled with cold gray rocks, four randomly-placed boulders standing out amidst the reams of smaller stones. Mikasa did not expect it to be the most comfortable place to wait, but it served the purpose she needed.

Although her ears were perked, the only sound was the river and evening birdsong. Mikasa listened for a few minutes before making her way to the boulder closest to the water. She set her bag at its base and carefully sat down. There, she watched the sun set over the river, staining the waters with a cascade of reds and golds, then continued watching as the stars began to come out.

The sky had been cloudy the night Mikasa drowned, and when she was thrown into the water, one of the things that caught her attention was just how black the water was. That was not the case tonight. The river was painted in shades of dark blue and silver, rippling and undulating as the movement of the current prevented a proper reflection from forming.

The light pollution in Paradis had never been bad. Here, it was even less than it was in the city proper. When she looked up, the sight of the sky was dizzying. She could spot the Milky Way where it reached across the sky, that entire section of the sky rendered brighter by all the stars. Outside it, there were constellations and vague shapes that could have been tricks of her eyes, but were beautiful nonetheless.

It made Mikasa wish that she'd thought to come out here before tonight. Or that she'd wandered further, out to where the stars shone clearer and brighter.

But what would the point be? Mikasa had a duty that bound her to the city. She could not neglect that duty purely to wander off in search of beautiful things, no matter how enchanting. For now, however, she could let herself enjoy the stars.

Mikasa sat for hours, watching the sky and occasionally taking sips of water from the bottle in her purse. Yet as the night wore on, the stars lost their appeal. Awe was replaced by the itch of anxiety and the slowly spreading shadow of tiredness.

Eventually, she stood up and paced around the clearing, sword swinging in her hand. After about an hour of that, she sat back down in order to prevent tiring herself out.

Hunger gnawed at her stomach, so she pulled a protein bar from her purse and ate it quickly.

Another hour passed. She did a little more pacing, then sat back down.

A heavier form of tiredness set in. She knelt down by the river and splashed a handful of frigid December water against her face, leaning into the jolt that raced through her. Once she was certain that she was awake, she returned to the boulder.

Finally, as the earliest hours of the morning set in, the hairs on the back of Mikasa's neck prickled. She tightened her grip on the sword and stood up, scanning the area with careful eyes.

There was nothing visible. However, her gaze was drawn to a patch of shadow deep in the pines. She stared at it, daring her opponent to come forward. When nothing happened, Mikasa glanced toward the river, only a scant few feet away from where she was standing.

"Lara," Mikasa called, looking back out into the shadows. "Scared of a little water?"

A moment of silence. Then, from the shadows of the woods, the sound of a footstep. Lara stepped out from the edge of trees, where the moonlight illuminated her clearly enough for Mikasa to make out her wry smile. It also allowed her to see the weapon dangling from her hand; a long war hammer.

"An intelligent combatant plays to their strengths," Lara said.

"You're right. That's why I'm not moving."

"Clever girl. But do you really think it will matter?"

Lara took a few more steps into the clearing. She lifted her hammer up and cupped its head in her hand. Mikasa saw that the very end of the head was covered in spikes. At that moment, Mikasa knew; if she was hit by that thing, it would all be over.

Mikasa tilted her chin up and looked Lara in the eyes. "It matters enough for you to be bothered by it."

"Perhaps a little," Lara admitted. "But you want me dead, don't you? If you hide in the water, you won't be able to land so much as a blow. That gives me room to work."

"A few feet," Mikasa conceded. She paused, watched as Lara's lips twitched ever so slightly, and added, voice cold as ice, "If I can move you a few feet, you're dead."

"If you can move me."

Lara's voice was not arrogant. Of course not; the weatherman did not sound arrogant when he predicted a sunny day. An elementary school teacher did not sound arrogant when they said that one plus one was two. She was a powerful, centuries-old vampire who had fooled the watcher's council into all but forgetting about her existence; she had doubtlessly faced more daunting opponents than Mikasa. The fact that she was still standing there meant that she had bested them all.

Slayers were lights that burned brightly and went out quickly. They were strong, but Erwin had told her that it was rare for one to last as long as Mikasa already had. Most died before they could face a truly terrible threat, and it was truly rare for any to survive long enough to face more than one. From Lara's perspective, the thought that a slayer could even move her a few feet without dying first must have sounded like a cat trying to fight a mountain lion.

Mikasa could use that. 

Since she knew that her opponent wouldn’t believe her anyway, she allowed herself the pleasure of saying, “I will.”

Lara smiled. Mikasa raised her sword and pointed it at her, wordlessly inviting her forward.

Lara didn't keep her waiting. She raced toward Mikasa, hammer drawn back for her first blow. Mikasa waited for the last possible second to lunge to the side.

The hammer fell forward, missing the slayer and hitting the boulder that she had spent the evening sitting on. A sharp crack split the air as the stone shattered. Out of the corner of her eye, Mikasa noticed the way it fell apart as Lara lifted her weapon back up, as if the chunks of stone were little more than petals on a particularly delicate flower.

Mikasa didn't allow herself to get caught up in the display of power. As Lara turned around and pulled her arms back for her next blow, Mikasa lashed out with her sword, aiming a cut at her opponent's torso. Slayer and vampire moved in tandem to avoid each other's hits, and neither weapon made contact.

However, neither of them stopped moving. Mikasa drew away from the river to stand between Lara and the trees. However, rather than inching closer to the water itself, Lara put on a burst of speed, drew ahead of Mikasa, and slid several feet away from the river.

No.

Mikasa rushed at Lara, sword poised to strike. The vampire held her hammer up, one hand gripping the base of the head and the other one near the end of the handle, and used it to block her blow. Metal clanged as the sword's blade came down on the handle, but the weapon itself did not give.

Lara shoved the hammer forward. Mikasa pushed back with the sword and dug her heels into the pebbles beneath her, but was unable to prevent herself from being shoved back a few feet.

They remained interlocked for a few seconds before Mikasa ducked down and swiped the sword at Lara's ankles. The vampire jumped back - moving fractionally closer to the water in the process - and twirled her hammer by the handle. Mikasa sprung back up and jumped backward just as Lara, both hands now firmly grasping the end of the hammer's handle, brought it down upon her again.

Mikasa was forced to move back along the riverline. She tried to swipe at Lara, but another swipe from the hammer forced her to dive back again before she had the chance to make contact.

Mikasa grit her teeth and dove closer to the water as Lara prepared for her next blow. The hammer swung wide, and for one victorious moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of frustration on the vampire's face when she saw that she would have to move closer to the water to take a hit at her. It was promptly replaced by a cool mask.

Lara lunged fast, too fast for Mikasa to dodge outright. She only just had time to dive forward a few inches and raise the sword as the hammer came down upon her head. The handle of the hammer hit the sword's blade with an impact that sent a jolt of vivid pain down Mikasa's arms and forced her to bend her knees. However, the spiked head of the hammer was left suspended centimeters above her. She stared up at it for one nerve-wracking second before lurching back and pulling her sword free.

The block did little to slow Lara. She adjusted her grip on the hammer and swiped at Mikasa from the side, leaving her with the choice of letting herself get hit or moving closer to the forest.

Mikasa did neither. Pushing through the pain radiating in her arms, she dropped down into the lowest crouch she could manage, the hammer flying uselessly above her head milliseconds later.

A crouch too low for her to spring up as quickly as she normally would.

Mikasa scrambled back to her feet as soon as she knew that the blow had missed, but it wasn't quite quick enough. Lara brought her hammer swinging up at her from the ground, and while she dove back soon enough to avoid being hit, the motion was too sudden and ill-conceived. Pebbles shifted beneath her feet, and before she knew it, Mikasa was falling back.

The air rushed out of her chest as her back hit the stones beneath her.  Although the world was spinning, she was acutely aware of the sound of her opponent's footsteps pausing, then approaching her more calmly than they had been before. She tried to move her arms, to pull the sword closer to her and brace her other hand against the ground to push herself back up, but the motion was sluggish and accompanied by a muscle-deep ache.

A cold, painful, understanding arose from somewhere deep within Mikasa.

Lara was an old and powerful vampire. Slayers were bright lights that burned out quickly. Who was Mikasa to think that she could come out of this alive? She had already had more time on this earth than she was ever meant to.

No, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. That's wrong.

Lara raised the hammer above her head.

Fight.

The hammer came crashing down.

If you lose, you die. If you win, you live. If you don't fight, you can't win!

Mikasa rolled to the side just in time for the hammer to smash the ground where her head had been. She pulled the sword close to her chest and then rolled several more times, gritting her teeth at the fresh volley of pain in her arms and only letting herself stop when she felt the stones beneath her grow cold and damp. There, she paused for just long enough to make note of the sound of footsteps following her. Coming to stand right above her.

Mikasa summoned all of her strength and sprang upright, inches away from Lara's face.

The vampire flinched. It was just enough to delay the blow that should have come down upon Mikasa's head, just enough to jostle the slippery stones beneath her feet and send her off-balance for a second.

That second was all it took. Mikasa forced her aching arms to grab onto Lara's shoulders, the hand that wasn't also holding the sword grabbing onto the fabric of her dress, and fell back into the river.

Mikasa's body stiffened as the freezing water wrapped itself around her arms, legs, and torso. It was nothing compared to the way Lara's shoulders went rigid beneath her grasp, even with both of their heads still above water. For the first time, a glimmer of fear appeared on her face. It lasted for half a second before melting into fury.

A cold hand grasped at Mikasa's clavicle, sluggishly dragging its way up to her throat. Mikasa ignored it, instead kicking out against the riverbank to push them away from the shore and into the river proper.

Even as a cruel thumb began to press painfully against the center of Mikasa's throat, there sounded a dull thud as Lara's hammer slipped out of her other hand and embedded itself into the riverbank. It was followed by Mikasa's foot catching against a particularly large rock. She drew it one last desperate breath, as much as she could draw in with the force now pressing down on her airway, and then pushed them off. With a jolt, they were set loose into the current.

Mikasa's head was pulled underwater almost immediately. Water went up her nose and stung at her eyes, just like it had the first time she drowned. The difference was that this time, she let it. She let the current drag them downstream and focused all of her energy on keeping a grip on the sword and Lara. Lara, she had gone limp as a ragdoll the second they were set adrift. Her grip on Mikasa's throat was still tight, but it was the tightness of someone who had been locked in a certain position, not someone who was actively trying to kill.

Yet she could not float forever. Before long, Mikasa's lungs began to burn. She tightened her grip on Lara, heedless of how her muscles screamed, and kicked her legs with all her might, forcing them both closer to the surface. However, instinct took over before she could make it all the way. Her lips parted and water came rushing in. She began to cough, and more water followed, making a painful home in her lungs.

It burned. It burned as it suffocated her, and it burned with the weight of memories, dragging her back to her first watery grave. To that fourteen-year-old girl who had been unable to help the boy who had saved her life, who hadn't even been able to stay alive to honor him. So what if she had been brought back? She had still drowned. She'd drowned then, and now... and now...

Everything felt so heavy. Her body continued kicking, but her grip on both the sword and the vampire faltered.

"Fight!" someone screamed.

Mikasa forced her burning eyes upward. She could see moonlight glimmering through the water, what looked like only inches away.

"Mikasa! Fight!"

She tightened her grip on the sword and her enemy and kicked out with her last ebbing strength. When her head broke the surface, she forced herself to breathe, heedless of the fresh burst of pain it sent through her lungs, and swam to the side, toward the shore.

Eren. I'm still fighting.

Her arms were screaming and her legs felt like they were made of led. It was no small relief when she felt pebbles beneath her feet once again. She scrambled against them, desperately pulling herself and the dead weight that was Lara onto the shore. Once she was close enough, she fell to her knees and physically dragged the vampire the last few feet. She didn't dare drag her all the way out of the river. Once there were only a few inches of water, a series of harsh wet coughs wrecked her body and forced her to falter. Water spurted past her lips, yet her lungs still felt like they were being crushed.

No, Mikasa thought. Fight. This isn’t over yet.

With shaking hands, she lifted the sword out of the water and pressed it against her enemy's throat.

The beheading was not clean or easy. With water weighing heavily in her lungs and exhaustion tugging at her limbs, she didn't have the energy for a clean blow. Instead, she stared dispassionately down into the wide, terrified eyes of the woman who had caused so many people so much pain as she slowly forced the blade through her neck.

Lara began to turn to ash before her head was even completely detached. Ash, just like Bertolt. Ash, just like every other vampire that she was supposed to be so much stronger than. And then, in an instant, she was gone.

Mikasa stared at the spot where she had disappeared for a moment before collapsing. It was then that she became aware of just how cold she was. The sensation seeped into her bones, almost as insidious and painful as the crushing pain in her chest. How cruel, that that coldness was her version of victory. The plan had worked just like Erwin hoped. Getting dragged through the water was enough to paralyze Lara long enough to behead her, and now… and now… 

I won.

A pained cough forced its way past Mikasa’s lift. It was followed by a sputtering breath. Air fought its way into her lungs, but it rattled in her chest uselessly, unable to truly help her. A distant sound drifted down the shoreline, heard but not truly registered. The sound of footsteps. The shouting that followed gained her attention, but instead of focusing her on the moment, it sent her back to the voice in the river. To the boy who had called out to her so long ago.

I fought, Eren. I won. But I don't think I'm going to live.

The footsteps drew closer.

Am I going to see you again? The real you?

A hand grasped Mikasa's shoulder. She groaned, and the person grabbing her exclaimed something that she couldn't make out before rolling her onto her back. Suddenly, hands were pressing rhythmically down on her chest. When she failed to react, lips pressed against her own, forcing air down on her throat, before the hands started moving again.

Mikasa spasmed. Hardly in control of her own body, she sat up and began to cough up mouthfuls of water. It was painful, but a hand thudded heavily against her back, and with every mouthful that she spat up, the more the pain in her chest lessened.

Her chest still burned, but before long, she was able to breathe. It was then that she began paying attention to her blurry surroundings, that she noticed the blonde hair and blue eyes of her rescuer.

"Annie?" she whispered.

"What? No, I'm..." The blonde turned and called up shore, "I think she might be delirious!"

A barking laugh drifted down the river. "Can't say I blame her! I might have to try drowning sometime if that's how you'll react!"

Mikasa blinked several times before her vision cleared up. When it did, she couldn't believe what she was seeing - even if it did make more sense than Annie waking up and rescuing her. "Krista," she whispered. Her eyes darted up shore, to the figure idly swinging Lara's hammer in her hands as she walked toward them. "Ymir."

Ymir laughed again. "What's with that tone? You realize that if we wanted to kill you, we wouldn't have had to do anything."

"We came here to help you," Krista added.

Mikasa shook her head in disbelief. However, when she opened her mouth to respond, she started coughing once again.

Ymir broke into a jog. Once she had reached Mikasa and Krista, she knelt down, shoved the hammer into her girlfriend's arms, and grabbed Mikasa by the shoulder. "We'll save the whole spiel for when you aren't half-drowned. Can you stand?"

"I-" Mikasa was caught off by another round of coughing. A few more droplets of water dribbled past her lips.

Ymir snorted. "I'll take that as a no."

With that, the vampire wrapped one arm around Mikasa's shoulders, slipped the other beneath her knees, and scooped the slayer up.

Mikasa struggled, only to find that she couldn't even budge Ymir's iron grip. A scowl slipped across her face. "I don't need-"

"Yeah, you do," Ymir interrupted. "So shut up and deal with it."

Krista grabbed the abandoned sword before standing up and shooting her girlfriend a glower. "What Ymir means to say is to let us help you."

"Yeah, that."

Mikasa wanted to protest. It had been one thing to accept help from another slayer, but a vampire? It was...

It was not too dissimilar from what had happened with Bertolt, ultimately. There were doubtlessly issues, little details that Mikasa would have to stop and seriously consider, but now, with exhaustion weighing down her body and blurring her mind, she found that she couldn't bring herself to go through all the motions. All she could do was think that Ymir did have a point. If she and Krista wanted her dead, they could have just stood by and let her drown.

Mikasa allowed herself to go limp. As she did so, she heard Ymir ask Krista, "Can you carry all that?"

Krista made an indignant sound. "Just how weak do you think I am?"

"Adorably so."

"I can carry them."

"Alright."

Ymir started walking. As they moved, Mikasa looked up at the sky. The sun had started to peek over the horizon, sending its first rays of light across the sky.

It took a while for Mikasa to realize the problem with the picture painted before her. By the time she did, the sun was already shining down on them both, making the burst of alarm in Mikasa's chest give way to confusion. "Ymir," she whispered, "the sun..."

Ymir looked up at the sky and laughed. "Oh, that. Don't worry about that."

The vampire wiggled the fingers of the hand wrapped around Mikasa's shoulder. There, glimmering innocently in the sunlight, sat a ring with a green gem.

Chapter Text

It was a long walk to their car from the place where they found Mikasa. By the time the dull red SUV came into view, the sun was shining high in the sky and Historia's arms were aching. It was a relief to be able to pop open the trunk and drop the sword and hammer inside. She closed it with a sigh, then stepped back to watch Ymir finish piling Mikasa into the back seat. The slayer was saying something under her breath, too low for Historia to make it out. Ymir didn't bother responding to whatever it was.

When Ymir shut the door and began approaching the driver's seat, Historia took it as her cue to approach. "How's she doing?" she asked.

"Cold," Ymir said. "I can't imagine that being carried by a vampire did much to help with any hypothermia. Had enough energy to tell me she could buckle her own seatbelt though, so I guess that's something. That or she's just a stubborn bitch."

Historia frowned. "Do you think I should sit with her?"

Ymir shot her a wary look, the morning sunlight casting shadows over her face and amplifying her severity. "Why?"

Historia glanced up at the clear blue sky. The sun may have been shining brightly, but it was early enough in the day that the night's chill had not completely faded. "If she has hypothermia-"

"She still probably has enough energy to throttle you," Ymir retorted. 

"Throttle me?" Incredulousness seeped into Historia's voice as she snapped her gaze back to her girlfriend. "Why would she throttle me when we just saved her?"

Ymir tapped her index finger against her temple. "Use your head; you're working with the vampire who she just found out has the Gem of Amara. We're offering her an olive branch, but she hasn't made any deals yet. Hurting you..."

"Is the best way to get to you," Historia finished.

Embarrassment flashed across Ymir's face. She quickly smothered it down in favor of a haughty look. "That's a little egotistical of you, isn't it? I'm just saying, you're the only thing here that she can hurt."

The corners of Historia's lips turned upwards. Ymir's words might have been hurtful once upon a time, but by now, she knew this song and dance too well to be affected. "Right. Because I'm so soft and delicate." She paused to glance at Mikasa through the car window, the smile slipping from her face as she did so. "It wouldn't be smart of her to attack me."

"What has she done to make either of us think that she's smart?" Ymir retorted. "Look, we can blast the heater so she doesn't freeze to death, but I don't want you cuddling up to a potential enemy."

"Or a potential ally."

"Yeah, I don't really want you snuggling with one of those either."

Jealousy wasn't cute. Or rather, it shouldn't be cute. Yet the sight of Ymir's glower made a small warm spark light up inside Historia.

"Alright," she acquiesced, "I won't sit with her. But we do need to take her to the hospital."

Ymir sighed heavily. "Yeah, I gathered that much. I'm guessing that we aren't going to seriously talk about an alliance, either."

"I mean... If she really does have hypothermia, she might be delirious. We should wait until she's able to seriously consider what we're saying."

"Fucking figures," Ymir muttered. She turned to walk over to the front door with a shake of her head. "We save the chick's life, and what happens? We become a taxi service and don't make any real progress."

"We did make progress!" Historia protested as she climbed up and slid into the passenger's seat. The tan leather was cool against her skin, and she took a moment to pity the sodden slayer in the back. She took a moment to buckle herself in before glancing over at Mikasa. She sat slumped against the door with her eyes closed. Even so, Historia made sure to lower her voice before she added, "Now she has proof that we're on her side."

Ymir leaned over to adjust the rearview mirror. "We already showed her that," she muttered, voice low. "We told her about Tybur, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but that could have been about a mutual enemy. This is a genuine act of good will," Historia whispered.

"It's a genuine act of manipulation so that we don't have to deal with a slayer up our ass."

Historia sputtered for a moment. "It's not manipulation ," she hissed. "We aren't lying to her."

"Yeah, but we aren't trying to team up because we're goody-goodies who want to save the world, are we?" Ymir pulled a keyring out of her pocket and offered Historia a wolfish grin as she put the car key into ignition and started the engine. "We're using her for our own good. That's called manipulation."

"That's not..."

Historia leaned forward to turn the car's heater on, refusing to look at Ymir as she did so.

This wasn't manipulation. Was it? In nature, when two creatures helped each other because they both got something out of it, they called that a symbiotic relationship, not manipulation. How was this any different? Historia wanted to point that out to Ymir, but she knew very well that she wouldn't get anywhere with it. Instead, she offered her girlfriend a displeased look before turning her gaze to the woman in the back seat.

Mikasa still looked like she was asleep. It occurred to Historia that that probably wasn't a good thing, considering her condition. She reached back to gently shake the slayer's shoulder. The moment she did, Mikasa shot upright, eyes wide and wild. 

"Sorry," Historia said. "How are you holding up?"

The frenzied look in Mikasa's eyes faded into something more wary. "Where are you taking me?" she asked. 

"The dump," Ymir said. "You're too busted up to fix, so we're just going to toss you."

"Ymir!" Historia exclaimed.

"What? It was a stupid question."

Historia frowned at Ymir, who looked over to grin at her shamelessly. They stayed like that for a few seconds before Historia looked back over at Mikasa. "We're taking you to the hospital," she said.

"I don't need to go to the hospital," came Mikasa's immediate response.

Historia opened her mouth to disagree, but Ymir beat her to the punch. "Right. And you let me carry you because you just trust me so much." She scoffed as Mikasa frowned. "Hell, you didn't even try to fight me when you found out I have the gem. I don't want to be your enemy, slayer, but I don't believe that you believe that yet. If you were willing to let that go, it means that you need serious medical attention. So you're getting it."

Mikasa's gaze flickered downward. It was always hard to read her, but at that moment, Historia saw a tiredness that told her that Ymir was absolutely right.

"Where's Lara's hammer?" the slayer asked after a few moments.

"In the trunk," Ymir responded. "Why?"

"You can't keep it."

"Why not? I think it'd suit me."

Mikasa shot a dark look at the back of Ymir's head.

"I don't think you can bring it into the hospital with you," Historia gently pointed out.

"Then just take me to my apartment."

"Mikasa, you need medical care." Historia paused, biting her lower lip. "Maybe... do you have someone who could come pick the hammer up for you?"

"Aww, come on," Ymir whined.

Historia shot her a pleading look, and Ymir signed. "Fine," she muttered. "Hand the sexy hammer over to the slayer. Whatever."

"I don't have my cellphone with me," Mikasa said.

"I do," Historia replied. "I think I have all of your friend's numbers saved."

"Don't complain," Ymir cut in as Mikasa began to narrow her eyes. "We used those numbers for a good reason, if you care to remember."

Mikasa did not complain. However, her voice was a shade tenser when she asked, "Do you have Professor Smith's number?"

Historia nodded. "He's your watcher, right?"

"Have him meet us in the parking lot," Mikasa instructed. "I won't go in the hospital until the hammer is in his hands."

Historia caught Ymir's scowl out of the corner of her eye. She shot her a small, placating smile before turning back to Mikasa. "Alright," she said. "Would you like me to call him, or-"

"-I'll call him if you give me your phone."

"If you're sure."

Historia reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. She took a moment to pull up Erwin Smith's name in her contacts before handing it to Mikasa. The slayer accepted the phone, but spent a moment staring at her warily before actually moving to call Erwin. That was fair. After all, Historia eyed her for a long moment. It was only when Mikasa began to softly murmur something into the phone that she finally turned around to face forward.

It looked like they were about halfway to the hospital. Ymir's gaze remained locked on the road. However, when she noticed Historia watching her, she shifted her head just enough to shoot her a heavy, questioning look. Are you sure about this? it said.

Historia curled her lips into a thin smile and looked Ymir dead in the eyes. No, but it's our safest option, and you're the one who got involved with the slayers in the first place.

Ymir scoffed and looked back out at the road. Touche.

A moment passed. Historia stared at her girlfriend, searching for something unknown even to her, before reaching her hand out to her. Ymir glanced down at it but didn't move.

Historia wiggled her fingers.

Ymir huffed, then pulled one of her hands from the steering wheel to take her hand. "I don't know what about this has you all sappy," she muttered.

"Maybe I just thought you could use a little cheering up," Historia whispered.

"A badass hammer would cheer me up," Ymir whispered, as if she wouldn't notice how her voice had gone a touch softer.

"I'll get you something violent for Christmas," Historia promised.

Ymir chuckled. "Maybe I'll return the favor; I think you'd be a sight to see with an axe."

"I don't need an-"

"Krista," Mikasa called.

Historia looked over her shoulder to find the slayer holding out her phone. Her expression was placid, but her arm was trembling.

Historia frowned. "Ymir, how far are we from the hospital?" she asked as she reached out to accept the phone.

"Just a few minutes," Ymir said.

"Park near the front," Mikasa said. "I told him we'd be there."

"Bossy," Ymir muttered. Even so, when they pulled into the hospital, she made sure to take a parking spot close to the hospital itself. There they sat in silence until Mikasa's voice cut through it, subdued but purposeful.

"Ymir. Where did you get that ring?"

"You mean the one that lets me go on nice little strolls in the sunlight?" Ymir asked, tapping the finger adorned in the Gem of Amara against the steering wheel.

Historia sent her girlfriend an alarmed glance. Be careful.

Ymir smirked. Relax. I've got this.

"Yes," Mikasa said.

Ymir stretched her arms out above her head, the gem on her finger glinting in the sunlight. As she languidly lowered her arms, she said, "I found it, believe it or not."

"Found it?" Mikasa questioned. Historia looked back at her, only to find that she was wearing an unreadable expression.

"Yeah," Ymir said. "On the riverbank. I'm guessing Reiner made one too many enemies and something managed to get the better of him."

A dark, thoughtful look flickered across Mikasa's face. It was gone as soon as it appeared. "Yeah," she murmured. "Something."

"Stupid to leave it in the river, but hey, lucky for me." Ymir paused, then turned around the stare heavily at Mikasa. "Lucky for both of us, if you aren't too caught up in being the slayer to consider working with a vampire."

Mikasa stiffened. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"That's fine," Ymir said. "I'm not going to press a half-drowned girl. But you will talk about it?"

"Yes. Later."

"I'll hold you to that." Ymir's voice was even and her expression stony. The effect slipped when she turned back around and offered Historia a subtle wink.

Historia's lips quirked up slightly. "Nice job," she whispered.

"Thanks," Ymir whispered back. "Now we just have to-"

She was cut off by the sound of someone gently tapping on the driver's door. They looked over to see Professor Erwin Smith peering through the window, vivid blue eyes grave and heavy.

Ymir rolled the window down and nodded. "'Sup."

"I assume you're Ymir?" Erwin asked. As he spoke, his gaze flickered toward the passenger doors, where Mikasa could be seen in the back seat. She was already unbuckling herself, but her movements were slow and halting. Historia thought that it said a lot about her condition that she hadn't already let herself out.

"The one and only," Ymir said. "And you're here to confiscate the hammer."

"And see my slayer to safety," Erwin said. He paused as his gaze shifted over to Historia, before finally settling to pin both her and Ymir with a long, meaningful look. "Thank you for helping Mikasa. I won't forget it."

Ymir shrugged and looked away. "Krista did most of the work," she murmured.

"You're the one who carried her back!" Historia hurried to exclaim. The last thing they needed was Ymir downplaying her involvement in front of the slayer's watcher. She looked him dead in the eyes as she continued, "It's like we tried to tell Mikasa. We don't want to be your enemies."

Erwin nodded. "I can see that." He paused, glancing toward the back at the car. "May I..."

Ymir nodded. "Yeah, go get her."

"I'm right here," Mikasa muttered.

Erwin walked around to open the passengers door. The moment he did, Mikasa protested, "The hammer's in the trunk. Go get it; I can take care of myself."

Historia couldn't see Erwin's face, but she could hear the frown in his voice. "Just because you can doesn't mean that you should. I can tell that your arms are badly hurt, and that's without taking other potential injuries into account."

"It doesn't matter," Mikasa insisted. "What if this was all a trap? We can't let them keep the hammer."

"Rude," Ymir muttered. "We're right here."

Erwin exhaled heavily. "I know. However-"

"-I could take her into the hospital," Historia said.

Ymir and Mikasa both turned to stare at her. Historia hesitated for half a second before tilting her chin up. "They'll ask questions, right? I already have the story worked out. We can say that Mikasa was jogging by the riverside, tripped, and fell in. Her arms are hurt from where she was slammed up against some rocks, which she then used to try and pull herself out of the water."

"You'll probably be in there for a while," Erwin warned, taking a few steps back so that he could watch Historia through the open window.

Historia shrugged. "I didn't have anything else to do today. Besides, it'll give you time to take the hammer home and come back."

"And what am I? Chopped liver?" Ymir grumbled.

"You can go home, too."

Ymir sighed gustily. "No, I'll wait for you in the lobby or some shit."

Historia nodded, a slight smile playing at her lips. She pushed it down when she turned to look at the slayer in her back seat. "Mikasa?"

The slayer stared at her for several moments before finally nodding.

"Alright!" Historia said. "Ymir, can you open the trunk for Erwin?"

"Sure, rub it in," Ymir muttered even as she grabbed the keyring and opened door. Meanwhile, Historia unbuckled herself and stepped outside to collect Mikasa.

It was going to be a long day. But maybe, with a little luck, they were finally getting somewhere.

*

Mikasa felt numb and float-y. That was a good thing and a bad thing. Good because her arms didn't hurt that much anymore, bad because Erwin was sitting next to her bed, and he looked like he wanted to talk. Mikasa wasn't sure if she could talk very well right now, but gosh darn it, she was going to try.

...Or maybe she wouldn't have to. Erwin had been sitting there without saying anything for a while. At least, it felt like it had been a while. How long had he been sitting there again?

Laying there and squinting at Erwin probably wouldn't get her any answers. It would be nice if it would, but it wouldn't. She should probably say something.

"Are you going to say anything?" she asked. Her mouth felt cotton-y and numb, and the words came out mumbled, but Erwin looked like he heard her. Had he heard her? Yep, he was opening his mouth. He had definitely heard her.

"We can talk, if you want," Erwin said.

Mikasa frowned. "So why aren't you talking?"

The corners of Erwin's lips twitched up, but his eyes sparkled in concern. She wrinkled her nose at the sight. "I wasn't sure if you would be up to it."

"Why not? I hurt my arms, not my lips." She held up her right arm, which was wrapped in a soft white cast. The motion immediately sent an ache through her forearm, causing her to pull it closer to her chest and move to cradle it with her left arm. That only made that arm hurt. Ultimately, she leaned back in the hospital bed and carefully lowered both arms to her sides.

"My apologies," Erwin said. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You always offend me," Mikasa murmured, tilting her head to look up at the ceiling. It was white with little tan speckles. The rough cotton blanket covering her legs and torso was white with little blue speckles. This was a very boring hospital room.

"Yes, well." Erwin sighed heavily. "I am trying to do better."

"How?"

"If I knew exactly how, I imagine this would all be a lot easier."

"But you're trying."

"I am trying."

Mikasa hummed. Staring at the boring ceiling with her mind all float-y somehow made it easier to think about the things that weighed heavily on her mind. It was like she was making contact without touching them directly. She was saying it, but she wasn't feeling it. The words just slipped past her lips. Words like, "You really didn't know about the... the... the fight? With Bertolt?"

How funny. She couldn't say "Cruciamentum", but Bertolt's name came to her just fine.

"I didn't. I won't pretend that I'm not willing to make sacrifices for the greater good, but I swear that I had no hand in the Cruciamentum." Erwin's voice sounded heavy. Dark. Not like he was angry, but almost like he was hurting. That was odd - what reason did he have to hurt? Even if he had betrayed her, she was the slayer. It was her job to be the one who was hurting.

He said that he didn't betray her though, and she couldn't see anyone hiding a lie in a voice that hurt that much.

Almost anyone. Annie had been hurting, but she had been a good liar as well. Annie and those other two.

Erwin didn't seem like he was as good of a liar as Annie though. Not to Mikasa. No matter how well he lied, he couldn't hope to hurt her as much. That was why she went ahead and pressed, "You didn't want it to happen?"

"No. I didn't."

Mikasa glanced at Erwin for half a second, then looked back up at the ceiling, let herself float far away so that her next words couldn't touch her. "I didn't want to kill Bertolt. Not in the end. He was a vampire, but I didn't want to kill him."

Erwin went quiet. She wasn't surprised that he was quiet. She was a slayer who hadn't wanted to kill a vampire. Even though she did kill him, that probably meant that she had failed her slayer test, even if she had gotten out alive. Or it would if Erwin was lying and really did help with the test. If he wasn't, it probably wouldn't matter.

Except it did matter. Bertolt was dead. She had killed him. He had let her kill him. That mattered.

She had also killed Lara. That mattered, too.

"He was your friend, wasn't he?" Erwin finally asked, voice gentle.

Mikasa moved to shrug, but stopped when the fresh pain in her arms told her not to.

Had Bertolt been her friend? Probably not. She didn't let herself have friends, for one thing. She'd broken the rules for Armin, thought that she might start breaking them for the others, but Bertolt... he'd been shyer than Annie and Reiner. They hadn't spent as much time together. He was also a vampire who had come to Paradis on a mission to kill her - she couldn't forget that. But also... the thing he did...

"Armin thinks he was, in the end," she whispered. Even if he wasn't her friend, he was somebody's friend. That was significant, for a vampire.

But he was still a vampire.

"I'm sorry," Erwin said.

Mikasa's gaze flickered away from the ceiling and toward a blank spot on the far wall. It was the same white as the ceiling, but without the speckles. Boring. Empty. Like vampires were supposed to be. 

"He was a vampire," she murmured. She couldn't forget that. It was important because... because... because it was. Because vampires were evil, even when they did things that weren't. Even when one of them kept doing confusing things and acting like they wanted to be an ally.

"Ymir's a vampire," Mikasa added, a scowl falling across her face.

"Yes," Erwin carefully said, "she is. Even so, I think it might be worth considering her potential value as an ally."

Ymir, an ally. Ymir the contrary, confusing, mocking, infuriating vampire. It was like pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit. Except, in some ways, it did. Mikasa knew that there was something there, some deep thought, a revelation, something important that she was supposed to be seeing. But she couldn't reach it. Instead, her mind caught on Ymir and Bertolt and went in another direction entirely.

"Ymir has the Reiner's ring. Reiner killed himself," Mikasa said. The words came out distant and disconnected even though she knew that she should be feeling something. Or maybe not. She had the weirdest feeling that she wouldn't know what to feel about that even if she wasn't drugged and float-y.

"We don't know that for sure," Erwin warned. "But... yes. It is probable."

Mikasa hummed. "Do you think Annie will be sad when she wakes up?"

"I don't know."

"...Can I go see her?" Mikasa turned her head to look at Erwin, saw how he was looking down at her with sad eyes. It should probably be making her feel some sort of way, but she could feel her head growing foggy even as she chased her suddenly-urgent thought. "We're both in the hospital. Shouldn't I be able to see her?"

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Erwin said, still in the soft little voice. Like she was some soft wounded thing. Probably because she was, for now. "You inhaled a lot of water, Mikasa. The doctors need to monitor you for hypothermia and dry drowning."

"How long will that take?" She wanted to sound strong. She tried to sound strong, but the fogginess in her head was growing quickly. Why did she feel so foggy? Probably the same medicine that kept her floating and not hurting.

Stupid medicine.

"Don't you remember?"

Mikasa frowned. Erwin frowned back, but still sounded all controlled when he said, "The doctor wants to keep you here for at least three days."

"I'm not waiting three days to see her."

"I'm sure you won't have to. But tonight, you need to rest."

"I don't want to wait three days to go home either." Now that she thought about it, she wanted to go home now. However, her limbs were growing heavy and the very thought of moving made her body ache.

The corners of Erwin's lips turned up. "I don't think either of us can help that."

Mikasa frowned. "But..."

Erwin shook his head as he stood up. "We can talk more tomorrow. But for now, get some rest."

"I don't want to rest," Mikasa whispered even as her eyes threatened to start fluttering shut.

"I know. But you need to if you want to heal."

*

Mikasa woke up the next day with a clear head, sore chest, and aching lungs. The memory of her diagnosis came down upon her with crushing weight.

Her right arm had a strained bicep and a stress fracture in her ulna. 

Her left arm had a strained bicep, strained forearm, damaged elbow cartilage, and torn ligaments in her wrist. 

On top of that, the hospital wanted to monitor her for pneumonia and dry drowning. 

Erwin had been right; she wasn't going to be let out of the hospital for several days. She couldn't expect everything to go right back to normal once she was out either. Even with her advanced healing, it would take several weeks for her to get back into fighting condition. 

Several weeks of being useless. 

It seemed that pain and frustration were on the menu for the day. Yet even so, Mikasa couldn't stop her mind from wandering elsewhere, to the comatose girl in another hospital ward.

She had to see Annie. Even if she accomplished nothing else that day, she had to see Annie. 

Her doctor was incredulous when she told him that she wanted to go visit a coma patient. Mikasa wove a story together, one that came painfully close to the truth, of them being dear friends prior to a terrible accident, but it did little to make him less wary. It took hours of prodding for him to consent to the visit, and even then it was only with an aide to supervise her. 

Mikasa tried not to let her irritation show as the aide opened the door to let her hobble into Annie's room, stepping in and carefully closing it behind her. It would do her no good. No matter how quickly she was recovering from the drowning, the fact remained that she was in poor condition and the hospital was obligated to keep an eye on her, which meant no privacy for this particular visit. Which meant she couldn't tell Annie everything that had happened. 

But she could say something. She had to say something. 

Mikasa sat down heavily in one of the chairs beside Annie's bed. She felt an immediate jolt of resentment for the wave of relief that the action sent through her tired body. 

Annie looked peaceful, at least. She always looked peaceful, but now… maybe now there could be some truth to it. 

"I did it," Mikasa whispered. 

She paused, glancing first at Annie's hand, then the tan bandages wrapped around one arm and the cast on the other. The doctors had offered her stronger medication for the pain, but she had declined, not wanting to fall back into the state she had been in the night before. Moving either arm would hurt. Even so, she lifted her right arm to gently brush her fingers against Annie's, maintaining the contact until the pain in her arm successfully compelled her to lower it. 

"I don't know what comes next," she quietly admitted. "But I did it. You're…" Not free. Not safe. Annie's history was still too heavy for the first word, and even discounting the continued survival of Tybur's second leader, the life of a slayer was by nature at odds with the second. But there had to be something she could say, some words that would have meaning without being a lie. 

"I'm here."

Chapter Text

Eren appeared at the foot of her bed soon after she returned from visiting Annie. He shot her a smile that was almost as warm as it was bright. "You won," he said.

Mikasa cast a wary glance around the hospital room, her eyes lingering on the wooden door for a long moment. Once she was somewhat confident that no one was about to come in, she murmured, "Not easily."

"No one could have beaten Lara easily," Eren returned. "What matters is that you won. And you already look better than you did last night."

"You weren't here last night," Mikasa murmured, ignoring the frown that spread across Eren's face. He couldn't very well have appeared while she was sleeping. It was important to remember that. He hadn't been with her last night, and her mind had been kind enough not to make him appear during the battle. Instead, it sent her a memory to save her.

But that was all Eren was. A precious, painful memory.

Not everyone in her life was a memory though. Not anymore. Not for a while, if she was honest with herself. Maybe, after everything, it was time for her to start acknowledging that.

Her gaze wandered over to where her cellphone rested on a small bedside table. She stared at it for a long moment before slowly reaching out to it with her left arm. The moment sent a wave of pain throughout the limb, but it was better than trying to use her fractured arm.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" Eren asked.

"I need to let everyone know I'm alright," Mikasa said. Erwin would have told them that she had won her battle, but she didn't doubt that they wanted to hear from her directly.

Her arm ached by the time she had grabbed her phone and pulled it over to her. That was fine. Now that she had it, she wouldn't need to do any more moving until she had to go to the bathroom or the power ran out.

"You could have waited for someone to help," Eren muttered.

"No," Mikasa said flatly.

Eren hummed and moved to stand beside the wall. There, he lapsed into silence as he watched her text.

*

Mikasa told everyone the same thing. That she had won the fight. She was injured, but would recover after a little while. There was no need to visit her.

That didn't stop Armin.

Eren was still lingering by the far wall when he opened the door and stepped into her room, a good-sized bag clutched in one hand.

"I told you not to come," Mikasa protested.

"You thought that would stop him?" Eren asked, warm amusement playing in his voice.

"I know," Armin said, not an ounce of shame in his voice. "But I had to see you for myself."

Mikasa glanced down at her arms, one in a cast, the other constricted snugly in ace wrap. Discounting some minor discomfort in her lungs, the rest of her was fine, but most people would just pay attention to her arms. She could already feel Armin staring at him. The worst part was that she couldn't even try to argue that she was fine, not when there was such blatant physical evidence saying otherwise.

"It could have been a lot worse," she tried instead.

Armin sighed. He walked over to her bedside and sat down in one of the chair, setting the bag down beside you. "I know," he said. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm glad that you came away with as few injuries as you did. I just... wish that you didn't have to do all this on your own."

Mikasa began to shrug, but aborted the movement when it sent a fresh ache through her shoulders. "I'm the slayer. It's part of the job."

"It doesn't have to be," Eren said. "You don't have to be alone, Mikasa; you have to know that by now."

Maybe, Mikasa thought, daring the let her gaze slide over to Eren for a heartbeat. He was staring at her intensely, hopefully. It made her look back over to Armin, only to find that he was wearing a similar expression.

"It could be worth seeing if some things can be adjusted," Armin said. "I think... I think Erwin would be willing."

"Maybe," Mikasa acquiesced. It was enough to make Armin smile, which in turn made something deep in her chest pang near-painfully.

If Armin was her friend, that should mean that it was all the more important to keep him from getting involved in her activities as the slayer. But how was she supposed to do that when he seemed so determined to throw himself into danger?

No, not throw himself into danger. He was trying to keep her safe, just like she was with him.

Safety. Safety came with knowledge. And that meant...

"Did Erwin tell you about Ymir?" Mikasa asked.

Armin gave a small nod. "He said that she has the Gem of Amara. Not how she got it though." He paused to give Mikasa a searching look.

"She said that she found it by the river," Mikasa said. "I don't know what happened to Reiner."

It was technically true. She knew that, if Bertolt and the watchers were right in their theory, there was a significant chance that he had killed himself, but that wasn't the same as having proof. More to the point, she didn't have the energy to delve into it right now.

A hint of suspicion lingered on Armin's face, telling her that he knew there was something she wasn't telling him. However, the softness that accompanied it told her that he would wait for her to tell him when she was ready. It reminded her that she was lucky to have him, even if it would have been better for him to stay away.

"Erwin also said that she and Krista helped you," he said after a moment.

"...They did," Mikasa said. "Krista saved my life. I would have drowned if she wasn't there."

"Then I'm glad that she was," Armin said. "Mikasa, I..." He paused, wringing his hands in his lap as he tried to find his words. "I know that this is a complex issue and Ymir is dangerous, but... If they want to be allies, I think it's worth considering."

"He's right," Eren murmured."

"I am considering it." She looked back down at her hands and frowned. After everything that had happened, she would be truly foolish not to consider it. "I just don't know if I can trust them."

"You can't."

Mikasa snapped her gaze up to him and furrowed her brow. If she couldn't trust them, then why on earth would he say-

"Until you give them a chance, there's nothing that they can say or do that will convince you that they're trustworthy," Armin clarified. "You're going to have to take a risk. But I think it's a risk worth taking."

Ah. So that was how he was going to play it.

"Maybe," Mikasa murmured. "But can we... talk about something else for now?"

"Of course," Armin said. He reached over to grab his bag - a large burlap tote - and pulled it into his lap. "I brought you some books!"

Mikasa stared at the bag. Now that she looked, she could make out the edges of hardcovers poking over the top and bulges pressing against the sides. The thing looked like it was about to overflow. "You know I'm only going to be here for a few days, right?" she asked.

Armin's ears and cheeks blushed as he scratched at his cheek. "Yeah, but... I wanted you to have a variety."

A soft smile slid across Mikasa's lips. "Alright," she said. "Tell me about the books."

*

That night, she got a text from an unknown number. A photo. After a moment of hesitation, Mikasa opened it.

It was a selfie of Ymir standing over what appeared to be a pile of dust, stake in hand.

Mikasa frowned down at the photo for a moment before texting a response.

Mikasa: What is this?

Unknown Number: just wanted to let you know that you don't have to worry about the town getting overrun with vampires while you're resting

Mikasa: That photo doesn't prove anything.

Unknown Number: Geeze, okay. give me a little while then

Mikasa didn't bother responding. She did, however, save Ymir's contact to her phone.

*

Eren stayed with her late into the night. However, he was gone the next morning.

Mikasa spent a few hours reading one of the books that Armin had gotten her before hesitantly reaching to her phone. It was ten A.M. when she put it down and turned a pensive gaze toward her phone. If Armin was anything to go by, then just texting her companions wasn't going to be enough to put them at ease. Maybe hearing her voice would be enough to make a difference.

She called Connie first because his name came first in her contacts, after Armin. It wasn't until he answered that she realized why he might not have been the best person to call first.

"Mikasa!" he exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

"Connie," she said around the lump that had lodged itself in her throat. "I'm okay. I just thought it would be a good idea to call everyone. Erwin told you about everything, right?"

"Oh," Connie said, voice turning more subdued. "Yeah, he filled me in."

"Right."

Mikasa hesitated. The question sat just on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn't sure if she should ask. Except she had to ask. It would haunt her if she didn't. More than that, it would fill her with doubt whenever she was around Connie.

"So," Connie began, "Are you doing-"

"Why didn't you tell me about Reiner?" Mikasa blurted out.

There was a moment of silence. Then Connie laughed, high-pitched and strained. "What do you mean, tell you about R-"

"Bertolt told me what happened that night. He thought that Reiner got his soul back, somehow."

Connie lapsed into a prolonged silence. "I wanted to tell you," he finally said, voice heavy and dark. "Hanji thought it was a bad idea. That - that if it was a trap, it could make you hesitate and get you killed."

Mikasa frowned. "I wouldn't have hesitated."

A sigh echoed through the phone. "Man, I don't- you weren't there. He really was different."

"That doesn't change the things he's done," Mikasa asserted, a hint of ice seeping into her voice. "I wouldn't have hesitated."

At that moment, she decided how she felt about Reiner's probable demise. She was grateful. Annie was one thing; she wasn't sure how she would have been handled her promise to Bertolt where Reiner was concerned, even if it did turn out that he had gotten his soul back. Especially if he had gotten his soul back. It was a mess that she was glad that she didn't have to deal with.

"Right," Connie sighed. He sounded even more subdued before, saddened in a way that Mikasa actively chose not to put too much thought into. "Well, I guess-"

"Who are you talking to?" Sasha's chipper voice loudly demanded in the background.

When Connie responded, his voice was quieter, but happier. Trying to sound happy for his friend. "Mikasa. She-"

"Mikasa!?" Sasha screeched. "Gimme that phone!"

Static sounded through the speaker as Connie cried, "Hey! I'm not done yet!"

"You are now!"

There was a loud rustling sound, followed by the distinctive sound of running footsteps.

"Give that back you-"

A door slammed, then Sasha's cheerful voice cried into the receiver, "Mikasa! You called Connie before me?"

"...He was the first one in my contacts," Mikasa said, bemused.

Sasha sniffed. "I'll have to change my name to Basha, then. Hey, is the hospital doing visiting hours?"

"Yes, but-!"

"Great!" Sasha exclaimed. "Connie and I will be over in about an hour."

Mikasa shook her head even though she couldn't see it. "You really don't need to-"

"It's already done!"

With that, Sasha hung up the phone.

*

About an hour and a half later, someone kicked on the door of Mikasa's door. When nothing happened, they kicked a second time. When that failed, there was a series of awkward thumps before the door finally swung open to reveal Sasha half-hunched over, Connie standing behind her. Both of them had pensive expressions on their face and piles of stuffed plastic bags in their arms. Their expressions changed when they saw Mikasa, Connie's melting into something more casual while Sasha broke out into a wild grin.

"Mikasa!" Sasha cried, rushing into the room. "We got you presents!"

"I can see that," Mikasa said, staring as Sasha rushed forward to drop her bags on the foot of her bed. A light blue sweater tumbled out of one of them. The thing looked exceedingly fluffy. "You didn't have to."

"Pfffft." Sasha waved a hand dismissively and crossed her arms. "You're hurt. Friends get their friends gifts when they're hurt. I mean..." She glanced over at the bags and frowned. "We couldn't really afford much, but-"

"We raided a Ross Dress for Less," Connie provided, adding his own bags to the mound on her bed. "I hope you like cheap clothes and weird candy."

"And stuffed animals!" Sasha added. "We got you some of those too! I, uh, hope you-"

"I love cheap clothes, weird candy, and stuffed animals," Mikasa said fiercely.

Maybe. Truth be told, she had never had much of a penchant for any of those things, but if her friends had gotten them for her, she was sure she would like them.

...Friends.

Despite everything, she had friends. It was technically a failure on her part, but as she watched Sasha's grin grow wider and Connie's shoulder relax a fraction, she couldn't bring herself to feel too bad about it.

"Great!" Sasha cheered. "Your arms probably hurt, so I'll help you go through everything, okay?"

*

Mikasa got another text that night. It was a photo of a grinning Ymir with one arm wrapped around the throat of a large yellow demon covered in bright orange lumps, her other arm reaching awkwardly out of the frame to take the picture.

It didn't take her long to start texting out a response.

Mikasa: Did you kill it?

Ymir: no, I just wanted to show this 'beaut off before I let him go

Ymir: embrace my inner Steve Erwin and all that

Mikasa: You killed it.

Ymir: yes I killed it. gimme a sec

A moment passed, then Mikasa's phone pinged to alert her of another text. It was a photo of the demon's decapitated head lying at the foot of a gravestone, rivulets of neon orange blood streaming off its base. She was about to text a reply when her phone rang buzzed again. It was another selfie of Ymir, now frowning and covered in neon orange blood.

Mikasa: You don't have to keep sending me selfies.

Ymir: but how else am I supposed to prove that I'm a friendly neighborhood vampire?

Mikasa didn't know how to respond to that. It was probably better that she ignored it, all things considered. Instead, she texted the other thing that came to her mind, unnecessary though it may be.

Mikasa: You can stay clean if you use a long-ranged weapon.

Ymir: idk what kind of slaying you're doing if you're clean after a fight

Mikasa: Cleaner.

Mikasa: And you're the one who complained about me ruining your shit.

Ymir: that was an important shirt. this one's trash.

Mikasa: You should still try a ranged weapon.

Ymir: eh

Ymir: you have your fighting style, i have mine

*

Mikasa healed faster than the normal person - fast enough for the medical staff of the hospital to remark upon it. Fortunately, the human ability to ignore extraordinary things when you weren't ready to face an extraordinary explanation meant that it wasn't quite fast enough for them to start asking questions that she wouldn't be able to answer. Unfortunately, it also wasn't enough for them to agree to her going home alone.

Worst of all, she wasn't healing fast enough to ignore professional medical advice and go home on her own regardless. It hurt too much to move her arms beyond the most simple of motions. Daily life would be enough of a hassle for another week or so yet. If something actually attacked her in this state, she would be a goner. She needed to go home with someone who would not only aid her with day-to-day tasks, but defend her in the event of an emergency.

Mikasa knew who she would be going home with before he even offered. It was the most logical option. The safest one. There was even a chance that he felt like it was his responsibility, even if it was one that she had never asked him to take. Mikasa also knew that she was going to say 'yes' even though she wasn't sure that she wanted to. She did have other options, other people who would probably offer to take her while she healed, but she refused to place that sort of burden on any of her friends.

That was what lead to her sliding into the passenger's seat of Erwin's car the day she was discharged. She felt his gaze on her as she reached for the seatbelt. When she slowly drew it over herself, he began to reach out, only for her to shake her head.

"I've got it," she murmured.

"If you're certain," Erwin said, hesitation rife in his voice.

Perhaps it wasn't entirely wise to ignore Erwin's offer of help, but she had to. She needed to be able to at least buckle her own seatbelt. The car was already on and idling by the time she got it, but it still sent a small burst of pride through her to hear that click.

The only thing to be heard was the quiet hum of the engine for the first half of their trip. Mikasa looked out the window and watched trees, houses, and other cars whipping by. Erwin wasn't coming anywhere close to speeding, but he wasn't moving too slowly either. It was the sort of pleasant pace that made it easy for her to let her mind drift away.

That came to an end when they turned onto the highway. Their pace slowed down to a crawl before stopping completely. Mikasa looked from the window to the windshield, through which she saw rows of multi-colored cars crammed bumper to bumper.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Erwin murmured.

Mikasa hummed and moved to pull her phone out of her pants pocket. Sasha had sent her a text about half an hour ago.

Sasha: u get out 2 day rite?

Sasha: u arent going home alone r u?

Mikasa cast a short glance over at Erwin.

Mikasa: No. I'll be staying with Erwin until I'm healed.

A response came less than a minute later.

Sasha: no shit, rly? 

Sasha: r i out of the hospital yet?

Sasha: *u

Mikasa glanced pointlessly out the window. Still tapped in a sea of cars.

Mikasa: We're caught in traffic.

Sasha: booooo

Sasha: want me 2 come over?

Mikasa stared blankly down at the message for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.

Mikasa: In the traffic jam?

Sasha: ye

Sasha: shouldn't b 2 hard 2 weave btwn the cars if theyre that stuck

Mikasa: Please don't.

Sasha: u sure?

Mikasa: Positive.

"You know," Erwin said, drawing her attention away from the conversation. "There is a bright side to all of this."

"Of course. I killed one of Tybur's leaders." If there had been even an ounce of truth to Lara's words, if the dynamics of the group were anything like what she had imagined, then Tybur should be starting to unravel without her. Helos remained a threat that she knew too little about for comfort, but no matter how strong he was, the fact remained that he was less of the threat without his sister by his side. That was a pretty big bright side.

"Yes, but I meant your injuries themselves," Erwin said.

Mikasa frowned and looked over at Erwin. "How can injuries have a bright side."

Erwin offered her a somewhat grim smile that was paired with a playful glimmer in his eyes. It was an odd look, but somehow, it wasn't completely out of place for him. "I spoke with your professors. All of your final deadlines have been extended."

"Oh," Mikasa said, blinking. She had completely blocked finals from her mind while she was in the hospital, having already accepted that she would fail everything and be forced to drop out. But apparently, she still had a chance.

"How long do I have?" she hesitantly asked.

"Two weeks," Erwin said.

Two weeks. She would have a lot of studying to do in order to make up for everything that she'd let slide past her recently, but with two weeks, it was possible. Especially if she got Armin to help her. It would be aggravating to her and potentially frustrating to him, but with the possibility of staying in college on the line, she suddenly found herself willing to be a little selfish and ask for his help.

"Thank you," Mikasa murmured.

"You're welcome."

Sasha: do u think erwin would let me throw a party in his house?

*

Later that day, when Mikasa was settled down in Erwin's guest room, Jean paid a visit. Erwin had always told her that he was coming over, he still felt the need to knock before entering the room.

"Come in," Mikasa called.

The first thing she noticed when Jean stepped into the room was that he did not look good. His hair was ruffled and prominent dark bags had come to rest under his eyes. He smiled when he saw her, but it was strained and sheepish. "I brought you audiobooks and movies," he said, lifting up the large plastic bag clenched in one hand.

"Thank you," Mikasa said, her eyes flickering over to the large, light brown bookshelf pressed against the wall to the side of her bed. There was no television in the room she was using and she wasn't about to watch something in the sitting room, but there was an old radio sitting on the bottom shelf. The audiobooks would make for a nice distraction in between rounds of studying. She'd already made her way through one of the books that Armin had brought her, but for all that Armin's love of the traditional hardcover was enduring, it would be nice to have something that she didn't need to focus on as much.

"No problem," Jean said, drawing her attention back to him. "I... uh..." He glanced down at his feet, then lifted his head once again, raised a fist to his mouth, and cleared his throat. Dropping the hand back to his side, he said, "I'm sorry that I didn't visit you sooner."

Mikasa blinked. "It's fine. I didn't expect you to."

Jean's lips twisted into a faint grimace. Fuck.

"I told everyone not to visit me," Mikasa clarified.

"Yeah, but that didn't stop the others, and it shouldn't have stopped me, " Jean said. "I really am sorry. I've just been-"

"It is fine," Mikasa insisted. "I know you've been busy with-" Marco. The emotional fallout of seeing someone he had trusted and considered a friend kill one of the people he was closest to. "-finals."

"Yeah." Jean offered a thin smile, but his eyes glimmered sadly. "I finished finals three days ago. This was..."

Mikasa wasn't entirely sure about what she did next. It felt like the right thing to do though - the sort of thing that someone's friend would do. As such, she didn't let herself think about it too much before scooting a few feet to the side, making room on the bed. "Sit down," she said.

Jean's lips parted slightly. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Mikasa nodded. If she was going to let Armin and Sasha and Connie be her friends, then she might as well let Jean in as well. And if she was going to be a friend, she wanted to be a good one. She didn't know if she would be any good at listening to people talk about their problems, but she wanted to at least try.

Hesitantly, Jean stepped forward and sat down on the edge of the bed. He spent a moment staring at the ground and idly running a hand over the light blue comforter before he admitted. "I just can't stop thinking about everything that's been happening lately."

Oh. Mikasa's heart stuttered, as if a cold hand had wrapped itself around it and squeezed. Maybe this wasn't the beginning of a friendship after all. Maybe it was the end of what could have been one. If it was, then... she didn't like it, but she couldn't protest it either. Wasn't she was the one who had spent so long telling herself that everyone should stay away from her for their own safety? If Jean wanted to do exactly that, then that was his choice to make.

"It's a lot to absorb," Mikasa began, voice clear and level despite the ache in her chest. "And if it makes you want to-"

"No," Jean interrupted, snapping his head up to stare at you intensely.

"No...?"

"Armin and I have been talking more lately. You were about to ask if it made me want to stay away from you, weren't you?"

"I..." Mikasa floundered. Did Armin really know her well enough to predict her actions like this? To warn someone else about them?

Of course he did. He was her oldest friend - the person who had stuck around her even when she made him fight to do so.

"It would be safer," she lamely finished.

Jean smiled grimly. "I know that. And I can't say that I'm not scared." A trembling laugh tumbled past his lips. "Mikasa, I'm fucking terrified. But the thing is... I can't stop thinking about Marco's death and how completely useless I was."

"Most people would have been," Mikasa pointed out.

"Not you."

"I'm the slayer."

"But Levi wouldn't have been either," Jean pointed out. His hands were beginning to shake. One of them snaked up to rub at his ear. "Or Erwin. Or Hanji." He glanced to the side and, noticing his hand, dropped it back down to his side and clasped both in his lap. "What I'm saying is, I want..." He paused for just long enough to shake his life. "I want to hide under my bed and never come out, but I don't think I could live with myself if I did that. So instead, I... I'm going to ask the watchers to teach me how to hunt demons."

Mikasa didn't have anything to say to that. Nothing except a whispered, "You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

"I didn't want to talk to you until I was certain," Jean confirmed.

He was certain; she suspected that he wouldn't have almost broken down if he wasn't. Jean wasn't going to pull away from her to stay away from the world of the supernatural. Instead, he was planning on diving into it wholesale.

The realization made Mikasa feel a little rotten. However, she also got the impression that this didn't have very much to do with her.

"I think Marco would be proud of you," she whispered.

"I hope so."

Chapter Text

It was about eleven A.M. and Jean Kirstein had done nothing productive with his day. To be more specific, he was currently sprawled over his ugly, tattered brown couch, staring blankly at his phone as he scrolled down his Twitter feed. His heart leaped in his chest when he got a call, only to come close to stopping entirely when he saw the caller ID.

Professor Smith.

Jean hesitated for a moment before answering. "Hello?"

"Mr. Kirstein," Erwin returned, voice bright and cheerful. "Will you be available at three o'clock this afternoon?"

"Uh..." Yes. He already knew that he was free. It was a Saturday, and with finals over, he didn't have any studying to do. He didn't know why he was hesitating. He shouldn't be hesitating; he should be biting at the bit for an opportunity to talk to Erwin. The sooner he got in contact with him, the sooner he could ask the watchers to turn him into someone useful.

At least, that was what he wanted to do. It was the decision he had made. Yet it would seem that making a decision wasn't enough to make him less of a coward, because now that he was actually on the phone with Erwin, he felt like he was frozen solid.

Speak, he thought to himself. He'd promised Mikasa. He couldn't back down now, before he had even tried to make a difference. He had to say something.

"Yeah," Jean finally ground out. "I'm free."

"Excellent," Erwin said. "Can you meet me at my house?"

This time, Jean didn't let himself hesitate. "Sure. But can I ask why ?"

Erwin was quiet for a few seconds. It wouldn't have been a long time for most people. However, coming from such a sharp man, someone who always seemed to have an answer right at his fingertips, it felt like an impossibly long time. It was enough to make the hair on the back of Jean's neck stand on end.

"Hanji and I agreed that it would be best to tell all of you at once," Erwin finally said. His response may have been delayed, but his voice was as smooth as ever. It may have put Jean at ease if it wasn't also so very grave.

"All of us," Jean repeated. "Are Sasha and Connie going to be there too?"

"If they have time," Erwin replied. "Armin has already confirmed."

Connie. Sasha. Armin. How were they dealing with everything? Jean hadn't had much in the way of contact with everyone since Marco's death, and although he couldn't quite bring himself to regret it, it did leave him wondering how everyone was doing. He knew that they were still friends with Mikasa, so he supposed that they weren't planning on distancing themselves from all things paranormal. But were any of them going to try to get involved on a deeper level?

Jean couldn't say that he could see any of them going out and risking their lives.

Then again, most people would say the same thing about him.

He would say that same thing about him. What he planned on doing, if he could really bring himself to go through with it, violated just about every rule of self-preservation. But he didn't know how he'd ever be able to look himself in the mirror if he didn't.

No, he'd knew what would happen if he tried to go back to living life the way he had before. He wouldn't see Jean Kirstein when he looked in the mirror. Instead, he would see some useless bastard who was too weak to save his best friend and too cowardly to become someone who could have.

"Well, I'll be there," Jean said into the phone, his voice coming out stronger than he expected it to.

"I'm glad to hear it," Erwin said. "I'll see you then."

With that, he hung up and Jean's living room lapsed into silence once again.

He spent the next several hours doing absolutely nothing. His mind just wouldn't settle down enough for him to actually do anything. There was no point in even trying to read a book or play a video game when he knew very well that he wouldn't be able to stop wondering - dreading - what the meeting was about. It was almost a relief when 2:30 arrived and he was able to head over to Erwin's.

Almost. The dread writhing within his stomach prevented him from actually being happy about it. It only grew worse as he grew closer to his destination. By the time he brought his bike to a stop in front of the austere white house, he felt like he might be sick.

"Chill," Jean muttered to himself. He didn't know much about how Sasha, Connie, and Armin were doing, which meant that he didn't know if they were handling recent events much better than he was. One of the last things he wanted was to walk in there looking like he was about to collapse while everyone else looked perfectly fine. His best course of action was probably to try and clear his head until Erwin shared whatever horrible news he had to share.

Jean sigh heavily as he dismounted from his bike. He glanced down at it, bright red and easily noticeable, before dragging it toward the entryway. When he reached the base of the porch, he tugged it off to the side, behind one of the hedges running along either side of the front of the house. It struck him as somewhat ridiculous as he carefully leaned it against the side of the building, but not quite ridiculous enough for him not to hide it. Thinking that no one would steal his bike during the meeting was exactly how he would end up with his bike stolen during the meeting.

That done, he walked up the front steps and knocked on the front door. No sooner had he done so than the stream of errant thoughts returned to his mind, making his stomach twist once more. What if this meeting was because someone they knew was dead? One of Sasha's parents, maybe? One of Connie's siblings? Or maybe a classmate? Bertolt may have been dead and Annie in the hospital, but it was always possible that Reiner had resumed his killing spree. There was also Tybur itself to think about. The watchers had said that it was still run by the same two siblings who had founded it. Mikasa may have killed one of them, but it was entirely possible that the survivor had decided to step in and get some sort of revenge. Or maybe-

Erwin opened the door and smiled down at Jean. "You're early," he remarked.

"Oh," Jean said, glancing down at his wristwatch. It was still only 2:50. Fuck. "Sorry," he said, looking back up at Erwin. "I thought the trip here would take longer."

"There's no need to apologize. I'm glad that you're taking this seriously." Erwin stepped aside and gestured for Jean to enter his house. 

He did so, and the watcher stepped forward to lead him to his living room. Erwin paused for only a second before continuing down the hall, whereas Jean stopped completely, staring at something that made the corner of his mouth turn up in a wry half-smile. He wondered if it looked as empty as it felt.

Oh well. An empty-looking smile was still better than curling up in a little ball and sobbing his eyes out.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who's early," Jean remarked.

Armin was sitting beside Mikasa on a large white couch. An open book was sitting in between them and both of their heads were bent downward as they spoke. Mikasa glanced slightly upward and gave a small nod at the sound of Jean's voice. Meanwhile, Armin's head snapped up, a look of flustered surprise rushing over his features.

"Jean!" Armin exclaimed. "I was actually here when Erwin reached out to everyone, so we thought it would be best if I stuck around."

"We were talking about this book," Mikasa said, placing one bandaged hand on the cover and looking up at him. " The Girl With All The Gifts . Have you read it?" Her words were slow and hesitant, like she was making a conscious effort to get herself to talk to him. It occurred to him that there was a real chance that she was. A hint of shame bubbled in his chest at the thought that she might be making herself uncomfortable for his sake, but it was tempered by flattery at the notion that she thought he was worth making the effort.

Jean shook his head. "No. What's it about?"

As he spoke, he moved to sit in a pristine white armchair that sat several feet away from the couch. There was a lot of white in Erwin's living room. The hardwood floor and oversized coffee table were similar shades of light brown, but the walls and all of the furniture, two couches and six armchairs arranged in a loose semi-circle around the table, were all white. It gave the space a surreal, untouchable feeling that the pastel green carpet beneath them did nothing to dispel.

Of course, all of the white was probably less strange than the fact that Erwin had six armchairs. Half of them weren't even facing the television, a mid-sized flatscreen that sat mounted on the wall. It felt less like a living room and more like an exceptionally clean and comfortable war room. Which, now that Jean thought about it, was exactly what it was. God knew that whatever they were here to discuss wasn't likely to be safe or easy.

"The zombie apocalypse," Mikasa said, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Armin lifted a hand, lowered it, glanced at the book, and frowned. "I mean, kind of?" He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled awkwardly. "I'd actually say that it's about familial relationships and serious moral quandaries, such as the trolley problem. And although there's foreshadowing throughout, because the book's from the perspective of a child, the reader doesn't find out that the story takes place during an apocalypse until they're a good portion of the way through."

"Oh," Mikasa murmured, glancing back down. "Sorry."

Jean's eyes met Armin's as they shared a frown. The regret glimmering in his expression made him suspect that the blond was about to say something. However, Jean beat him to the punch.

"Don't apologize," he said. "I don't think I'm going to read anything with any sort of apocalypse in it anyway."

"Yeah," Armin said, chuckling uncomfortably. "I thought Mikasa might like it, but I don't really think you would."

Jean's frown deepened.

"No offense!" Armin quickly added.

"I'm not offended," Jean said. It was technically the truth; he didn't have a good enough idea of what Armin was implying to be offended. His stomach was squirming in a way that was somewhat uncomfortable, but he wouldn't go as far as to call that offense. There was also a non-insignificant chance that it was just lingering discomfort from the situation as a whole.

Jean leaned back in the chair and crossed one of his legs over the other with a sigh. "How long do you think Connie and Sasha will take?"

Armin glanced at the clock that hung on the wall, stacked right above Erwin's television. "There are still about ten minu-"

Someone knocked at the door. Jean caught a glimpse of Erwin as he walked back down the hall to answer it. Moments later, Sasha and Connie's voices were blasting through the house.

"Seriously?" Jean muttered. "I would've expected them to be late."

Armin shrugged while Mikasa murmured, "They know this was probably important."

"Still." Important or not, this was Sasha and Connie that they were talking about. They were the sort of people to find an excuse to goof off in just about any situation. Unless... maybe recent events were making them try to pull themselves together? It felt ridiculous, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Connie had almost been murdered, and while Sasha may not have witnessed Marco's death, she was closer to Mikasa than to either of them. Both of them had looked pretty shaken back when the watchers told them about the Tybur group as well. Jean had expected them to shake it off, but maybe, just maybe, they were growing up instead.

It was weird. It went against their natures.

Just like putting himself in danger to try and be a better person went against Jean’s.

"You talking shit, Kirstein?" Connie demanded as he strode into the room, Sasha only a few steps behind him. 

Jean snorted. Either Connie had obnoxiously good hearing along with being obnoxiously loud or he had made a lucky guess. Regardless, Jean wasn't about to deny his accusation. "No more than you deserve," he said. 

"You deserve more than me," Connie retorted before flopping down into the nearest armchair. 

No sooner had his ass hit the seat than Sasha pranced over and collapsed on top of him. 

"Hey!" Connie screeched, trying in vain to push her off. "Get your own chair!" 

"Nope!" Sasha trilled, leaning her head back to push against his neck. "You're too cozy."

"Well, you aren't! Scoot or I'll-" 

"If you don't stop roughhousing in Erwin's chairs, I'll make all of you stand," a new voice cut in. All heads turned to see Levi standing in the entrance to the room, arms crossed and a heavy frown on his face. 

Sasha let out a small squeak before scuttling over to sit down in the chair next to Jean. "No roughhousing here!" she exclaimed. 

Levi made an unimpressed sound. 

"Are you going to sit down?" Mikasa asked. Levi's piercing gaze immediately slid over to her, but she didn't so much as quiver. 

The stand-off was broken by Erwin walking into the room. "Levi," he said, brushing a hand over the shorter man's shoulder. "Why don't you sit down?" 

Levi's eyes followed Erwin as he took a seat at the end of the second couch, which was positioned directly across from the one that Mikasa and Armin were seated on. It was Mikasa that Levi glanced back at, his lips pursing when he saw that she was still watching him stonily. Finally, he strode over to sit down in the chair closest to Erwin. 

Which also happened to be the chair on Jean's other side. Fun. 

"Thank you all for coming," Erwin began. "Hanji should be here soo-" 

"Now!" Hanji interrupted, bursting into the room. "I'm here now!" 

Jean leaned forward at the sight of the watcher, his frown finding its place back on his face. Hanji was smiling, but the smile looked tense and uncomfortable. Their hair was more frazzled than usual. Behind their glasses, their eyes glimmered with stress. 

Fuck, Jean thought. He knew that he probably wasn't going to hear any good news today, but anticipating something and coming face to face with actual evidence were two different things entirely. 

"Is everything alright, Hanji?" Armin asked. A look at the concerned, anxious expression on his face told Jean that he had already come to the same conclusion as him. 

"Not really," Hanji said. "There really is no sugar-coating this, so I'm going to just come out and say it." They moved to sit down beside Erwin. "Annie flatlined."

A heavy silence fell over the room. It made Jean that much more aware of the sudden cacophony in his heart and mind, a hundred different thoughts and feelings manifesting all at once, wrestling for dominance and canceling each other out so that nothing was able to take center stage. All of it was left to roil beneath a surreal sensation of emptiness. His chest constricted uncomfortably when he became aware of that emptiness, because he knew that he shouldn't be feeling empty. There was so much that he should be feeling - so much that he was feeling beneath the emptiness. Anger, happiness, worry, satisfaction, fear, disdain, maybe even sadness, if he still had enough human empathy left in it for that. Any of them would do, he just knew that he should be feeling something. He had to choose a single emotion and go with it.

He just... needed a moment to process first. As did everyone else, it seemed.

Mikasa was the first of them to find her voice, although it was still shaken and uneasy as she breathed, "You mean, Annie's..."

"Oh, no!" Hanji exclaimed, jumping back up to their feet and waving their hands around wildly. "Annie isn't dead! She did die after her fall , but the doctors managed to revive her. It just took me a while to gain access to enough medical records to find out." The watcher chuckled nervously and slowly sat back down. "I... probably should have made that more clear from the start."

"Oh," Mikasa breathed. Her expression had settled into something utterly unreadable. Or maybe it wasn't - maybe Jean just didn't have the energy to try and read into it at the moment.

The feeling that came over him was not peaceful. A grotesque mockery of peacefulness, maybe, but not true peace. It was, however, a reduction of stress. The pressure in his chest dissipated and it became easier to pick apart his feelings, although he didn't do so quite yet. Possibly because it was so ridiculous that it did take some degree of pressure off of him. The continued survival of the woman who had been complicit in Marco's murder didn't necessarily make anything simpler. Even if Annie was alive, the fact remained that she had died.

Even if Annie was a murderer, the fact remained that she was a slayer. That meant her death, even if only temporary, mattered far more than his personal feelings could ever hope to.

Jean slowly looked around the circle. Levi was as unreadable as Mikasa, Hanji a mix of excited and anxious, Erwin was calm and controlled, Sasha was nibbling at her thumbnail, and Connie was frowning heavily, a hint of confusion in his eyes. Armin, meanwhile, was staring intensely at the watchers, worry clear on his face. It was clear to Jean that he was thinking the same thing as him. As such, it was him who he kept his gaze fixed on.

Armin didn't disappoint. His voice was hesitant and unsure, but he still brought himself to say, "If Annie died, are you saying that..."

"Yes," Erwin somberly said. "A third slayer has been called. That we didn’t already know this means that she is not one of the girls who the council detected as a potential slayer, meaning that we don’t know where she is."

"And that's a problem," Levi chimed in, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair as he frowned severely. "If Tybur gets ahold of her, we could have a second Leonhardt on our hands within a few years. Sooner, if she's already one of their girls."

Armin frowned. However, it was Mikasa that Jean's gaze was drawn to. Something hard and cold rippled across her expression. That coldness did not reach her eyes. Instead, a spark lit up behind them, illuminating the grey into something bright and passionate. "And what will happen if the council gets their hands on her first?"

Levi's lips pressed into a thin, grim line. "Isn't that obvious? They'll train her up to be their weapon inside. Drain her for all she's worth and toss her corpse aside when they're done."

"Levi," Hanji murmured.

"That's why we're going to try to find her before either of them can," Erwin interrupted.

Mikasa opened her mouth only to close it a second later. She stared at Erwin, gaze intense and heavy. When she spoke, her words were slow and deliberate. "And that won't be the same thing as the council finding them?"

"Technically, officially, yes. But in practice?" Erwin smiled, the sort of smile that would have you knowingly devoting your life and loyalty to a madman. The smile of a schemer. The smile of someone who Jean hoped was capable of stopping a disaster in the making. "I will be honest with all of you. If someone else finds her first and she is young and amenable, they'll assign her to a watcher who won't hesitate to follow the council's orders. If she's too old or they think she doesn't have potential, they'll gamble with her life and hand her to someone with something to prove. However, if we find her first and establish a rapport, we'll be able to get Hanji assigned as her watcher. We can teach her what she needs to know and work with her as an individual so that she has the best possible chance of survival."

Jean had a feeling that he knew where this was going. It brought with it the worst sense of clarity. Terrifying, deadly, stupid clarity. He knew that he would have to acknowledge it soon, but for the time being, he instead turned his attention to the other thing that sent alarm bells up in his mind. "What do you mean by 'too old'?" he asked.

Something flickered across Erwin's face. It was gone before Jean had a chance to figure out what it was, replaced by that same composed exterior. "It's part of the reason the council seeks out and collects young potential slayers," he explained. "Slayers who begin their training younger tend to be more compliant and likely to devote all of their energy into being the slayer. As such, when a slayer is called from outside of their pool of potentials, they prefer for them to be sixteen or younger. Because the youngest recorded slayer was fourteen when she was called, most slayers who are not already with the council end up written off."

"Because it's easier to control children," Mikasa said. "Funny. Tybur has the same method."

"Where do you think they got it from?" Levi grumbled.

"Seriously!?" Jean exclaimed. "How can they call themselves the good guys if they use the same tactics as their enemy?"

He was struck by a bolt of discomfort as soon as the words left his lips. It sounded too much like he thought that the council were the good guys, which... he had. At first. He still thought that Erwin and Hanji probably weren't evil. However, after what they had done to Mikasa, he found it impossible to look at the watcher's council as something truly good. It was why he told her that he wanted to learn how to hunt demons, not join the council itself. She knew that, right?

Jean glanced at Mikasa, only to find that she was still staring at Erwin. That was... good. Probably.

"I mean, Tybur thinks they're in the right as well," Armin softly pointed out. "This isn't two opposite sides at war. It's two groups using the same methodology to achieve different endgames."

"A flawed and cruel methodology," Hanji added. "Believe me, we know that the council isn't good. But we can't reform the whole system overnight without running the risk of creating a lot more problems. For now, we're limited to doing what we can, and what we can do now is make sure that the new slayer doesn't end up dead or someone's puppet. But we need to move fast."

"Unfortunately, Shitty Glasses is right," Levi said. "Since Ackerman won't be helpful in this current state, I'll be setting out to look for her tomorrow."

"I've already been doing spells to find her location!" Hanji chimed, seemingly unbothered by Mikasa's visible bristling. "There have been unexpected complications though. I've narrowed it down to a general area, but wasn't able to find her exact location, which makes me suspect that someone's warding her. And that means... well..."

"They don't want me to go alone, and my usual team's been slaughtered," Levi said, voice flat.

The room went quiet once again. Everyone was looking at each other with wide, startled eyes. Everyone except for Jean, who couldn't tear his gaze away. His stomach ached, his chest burned, his throat was constricting, and his feet were cold. Cold, but not heavy. They wanted him to get up and run away, to get far away from this damn room and the danger it posed. Yet he couldn't, because if he did, he would never be able to look at himself again.

Because that horrible feeling of clarity was growing stronger yet, forcing him to think about the slayers he already knew. Mikasa poured everything she had into her slaying to the point that it caused her harm. What would she have been like if the council had found her when she was young? Would she already be dead, burnt up and martyred at their request?

What about Annie? If not for Tybur's influence, might she have been able to be the hero that she was meant to be? Would she still be awake and walking? Would Marco still be alive? How differently would things have turned out if someone else had found her before she became what she was?

What would this new slayer become if she was allowed to follow in either of their footsteps?

Jean had already made his decision. All that was left to do was act on it.

I don't want to die, he thought.

Marco hadn't wanted to die either.

"I'll go," Jean said, the words all but tearing his throat on the way out.

"What!?" Connie screeched.

At the same time, Sasha exclaimed, "No way!"

Armin and Mikasa glanced at each other and frowned.

"Jean, you don't have to do this," Armin said.

"He's right," Levi added, eyeing him with an expression caught somewhere between aloof and bemused. "It would be dangerous. Depending on how long it takes to find the slayer, we might be gone for months. If she really is warded, we'll probably be walking into some sort of shit, and you don't have any training. You'll have to learn as you go, and I can't guarantee that you'll survive. I probably won't need your help either, so you might be dying for nothing."

"I know that," Jean choked out. "And I don't... I don't want to die. I'm not doing this because I want to be some sort of hero. I just can't stand there and risk another Annie happening when I can do something about it. I can't..." I can't do that to Marco. "I already decided that I want to help, to do what you do. This feels like the best way to-" Be able to look at myself in the mirror. "-try to make a difference."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "You know that demon hunting pays shit? Your standing with your college will probably drop if you fuck off for several months, too."

"I didn't know demon hunting paid at all," Sasha murmured.

Jean forced a broken, jagged smile. The movement sent a tear trickling down his face. When had he started crying? He raised a hand to brush the tears away before saying, "Then I'll get used to being called a drop-out. But I'm sure about this."

"...Me too," Sasha said.

Everyone turned to look at her at the same time. "What?" Jean squawked. "But... You..."

"I'm scared and don't really want to drop out of college, but I don't want anyone else to hurt like the council and Tybur hurt Mikasa and Annie either. So, I'm going." Sasha tilted her head up and slowly turned her gaze around the circle to look everyone in the eyes. It probably would have been more impactful if her eyes weren't glimmering with tears as well. Even so, she got a respectful nod out of Erwin.

"Sasha..." Mikasa whispered.

Connie was staring down at his lap and at his fidgeting hands. However, he wrenched his eyes up to look at Levi as he said, "If they're going, then I'm going too."

"That's a stupid reason to do something like this," Levi said.

"I mean, it's not the only reason," Connie protested. "I just... this is a cycle, right? Everything that's been happening with Tybur and the council and all the death and destruction. It's a cycle that keeps hurting people, and I want to help stop it. Or, if that isn't possible, at least slow it down for a while." As he spoke, his eyes darted away from Levi and began looking from Sasha to Jean and back again.

Jean heaved a sigh. Connie was a fucking moron, but... he couldn't deny what he was saying. Nor could he judge him for it, considering that he was signing up for the same stupid shit himself. Slowly, reluctantly, Jean nodded in what was open to being interpreted as approval.

Connie smiled in relief.

"Fine," Levi said. "All three of you can come. Get your shit together fast, we're leaving in two days."

"Great!" Sasha exclaimed. "But, uh, you never said. Where are we going?"

Hanji chuckled. "Oh, you are either going to love or hate this."

"Just get it over with," Levi grumbled.

"Spoil-sport." Hanji clasped their hands in their lap and leaned forward, a devious grin on their face. "The new slayer is somewhere in Jacksonville, Florida."

Chapter Text

Ymir texted her a photo of another pile of dust in a graveyard. By now, Mikasa was prepared to believe that it had been an actual vampire.

Ymir: so, we gonna talk or what?

Mikasa: I’m a little busy right now.

Ymir: you gonna tell me with what?

Mikasa: No.

Ymir: rude

Ymir: you gonna string me along forever then? or are we gonna talk soon?

Mikasa: Soon.

Ymir: is that a promise?

Mikasa didn’t bother texting back.

Ymir: again, rude

*

It felt odd to be one of the only ones not carrying anything when she was the strongest person there.

Correction; should be the strongest person there. Her arms had already regained a decent amount of mobility, but she was still far from peak condition and everyone knew it. Mikasa knew better than to even try asking Levi or Armin, but Jean and Sasha had both turned down her offers to help. When she tried approaching Connie, Erwin had given her a look that made her give up completely.

That led her to her current position - sitting on a stool inside Erwin's cluttered garage, watching as everyone else piled supplies into the dark blue astrovan that Levi had driven up with the day before. All of the suitcases were already packed, as were a variety of stakes, crossbows, and swords. Now they were on to the more interesting objects.

Armin walked out of Erwin's house with a large box in his arms. It looked like he could barely carry the thing, which Mikasa assumed to be the reason for the pensive frown on his face. She was proven wrong when Connie walked out behind him, an identical box in his arms, and muttered, "C4. What on earth are we going to be fighting that we'll need this much C4?"

A grimace flashed across Armin's face. "I think he's just trying to be cautious."

At the same time, Mikasa lurched to her feet and exclaimed, "There's C4 in those boxes!?"

Connie laughed as she strode over to him and Armin. "Oh yeah, a fuckload of it. And another box of it waiting in the living room."

"With that shit, it's better to have more than you need than end up stuck without it," Levi's voice drawled from the doorway. Mikasa glanced over her shoulder to see him approaching them with-

"Oh my god," Connie breathed, stopping a few feet away from the van. Mikasa and Armin did the same. "Is that a rocket launcher?"

Indeed, Levi had what appeared to be a sleek black rocket launcher slung over his shoulder. The thing was comically large when paired with his diminutive stature, yet he carried it like it was nothing. Mikasa, Connie, and Armin were all given a deeply unimpressed look as he shouldered past them to slide the thing into the back of the van. He fussed with it for a few seconds before turning around to order, "Hurry up. I want to be out of here within the hour."

Connie moved to salute, nearly fumbled his box of C4, and scrambled to reassert his grip. "Sir, yes, sir!"

Levi shot him a dirty look before walking back into the house. As he walked in, Sasha bounded out, a smaller box in her arms and a bow and quiver strapped to her back. She hurried over to Mikasa before coming to a halt.

"Did you guys see Charlotte!?" she exclaimed.

"Charlotte?" Armin questioned, painstakingly placing his box in the back of the trunk. Mikasa ached to help him, but knew that he would rebuff any attempt. Instead, she only let herself watch him for a few seconds before forcing her gaze back over to Sasha.

"The rocket launcher!" Sasha said. "Erwin said that her name is Charlotte."

There was a jostling sound as Connie shoved his box into the van before saying, "Oh my god. It has a name."

"She has a name," Sasha corrected, the grin on her face seeming to grow wider by the second. "Do you think we'll get to use her?"

"I hope not," Jean said, stepping out of the house with what looked like the third box of C4. "If we're lucky, we won't have to use any of this stuff."

Connie chuckled grimly. "Yeah, but when have we ever been lucky?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Mikasa noticed Armin grimace. "Sasha, what's in the box?" she quickly asked.

"Charlotte shells!" Sasha exclaimed, lifting her box up and giving it a small shake. The contents rattled slightly.

"Ammunition for the rocket launcher," Jean corrected as he walked past. "Sasha, hurry up. Levi's anxious to get going."

Sasha sighed heavily. "Yeah, yeah, I noticed. I'll put the box away as soon as you clear out."

"I don't take up that much space," Jean groused, carefully putting his box away. He shot Sasha a disgruntled look as he pulled back, which resulted in Sasha sticking her tongue out at him before stepping forward to put her own box away.

Jean walked back toward the house. Connie cast a quick glance at Mikasa and Sasha before following after him.

Armin watched them for a moment before turning to Mikasa and saying, "I'm going to go see if Levi or the watchers need any help."

Mikasa nodded. Armin shot her a small smile before racing back toward the house.

No more than three seconds later, Mikasa felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find that Sasha had taken her bow off and was waving it around, a wild grin on her face. "Check it out!" she exclaimed.

"I noticed," Mikasa said. "I didn't know that you knew archery."

"I do. And I'm pretty good at it." Sasha turned the bow in her hands and ran one covetous hand down the sleek wooden curve. "I told Erwin, and he gave me this."

"It looks nice," Mikasa said.

"It is. Really nice."

"I see." A question occurred to Mikasa. It was truthfully none of her business, but as it gnawed at the back of her mind, she couldn't think of any reason not to ask. "Sasha?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me you like archery?"

"Oh, that." Sasha lowered her bow to her side and chuckled hesitantly. "I, uh... I didn't want you to think I was weird, I guess."

Mikasa blinked. "You didn't want me to think that you were weird?"

"Yeah! I mean, it's one thing to be interested in archery, but actually hunting and all that..." Sasha looked to the side, but Mikasa didn't miss the frown that slipped across her features. "I guess I just didn't want to stand out too much."

"...Don't ever worry about that around me," Mikasa said after a long moment of silence.

Sasha looked back at Mikasa, a hesitant smile replacing her frown. "I'll try not to."

"Good." Mikasa hesitated for a moment after that, then coaxed her expression into a smile that matched Sasha's, which blossomed into something brighter and more genuine in response.

"I guess it would be kind of silly to be ashamed of something like that around a slayer," she said.

Mikasa pushed her expression back into something stoic and unreadable as she shrugged. "Well, you are a silly person."

"Hey!" Sasha exclaimed, a peal of laughter bleeding through the indignity in her voice. "That's not fair; everyone's silly compared to you."

Mikasa's stoic expression threatened to break. It wasn't hard to keep it down, but the urge to smile was there, and that made her chest feel a little lighter in turn. "My life is a circus."

Sasha snorted. "Well then, I hope you know that us clowns will miss you while we're gone."

Just like that, the urge to smile disappeared, crushed down by the sudden reminder of the situation at hand. Annie had died. Because of Mikasa's actions, Annie had died, even if only for a moment, and now there was a third slayer. That third slayer should have been her responsibility. She wanted her to be her responsibility.

But wanting could not change reality. Mikasa was healing quickly, but not quickly enough. She wasn't physically fit enough to search for the new slayer and face whatever threats may be surrounding her, so her friends were taking up that mantle. Levi had chosen his dramatic array of weaponry for a reason. There was no telling what dangers they may face and there was nothing that she could do to help them. Even if they called for her help once she had completely healed, they were going all the way to Florida. She may not be able to reach them in time.

Mikasa was getting used to feeling helpless, but she hadn't started to hate it any less.

Sasha had given her reasons for joining the search back when she volunteered. Even so, Mikasa took a moment to look her up and down. She squirmed under her gaze before reattaching her bow to the holster on her back in a swift, practiced motion. "Are you looking for anything in particular, or...?"

"No," Mikasa said. "I'm just..." Looking for signs of uncertainty or regret. When she failed to find any, she turned to fear. That she did catch glimpses of, written in how Sasha fidgeted and glanced from side to side. That wasn't a surprise - she had seen whispers of it laced throughout her friend's behavior for the past several days as well. She had kept her mouth shut for the most part. However, she was quickly running out of time to say anything.

"You don't have to do this," Mikasa blurted out.

"I'm pretty sure we went over this the other day," Sasha joked.

"Sasha. You're scared."

A sigh escaped Sasha's lips. "Yeah, I am. But so's Jean and he's going. I can't let myself be more of a coward than Jean, can I?" She paused for a moment, grinning at Mikasa and searching for her reaction. When she failed to find what she was looking for, she allowed her smile to fade and looked down at the ground. "I know that this is dangerous, but I meant what I said back then. Mikasa..."

Sasha looked up to meet Mikasa's gaze with earnest brown eyes that glimmered with determination. "I don't know what you went through before I met you, but I know that it was bad. If I can stop this new girl from going through something like that, then I want to. Even if it's scary."

A pang of bittersweet pain resounded through Mikasa's chest. She looked away from Sasha, but it wasn't until her eyes had already been roaming around the garage for several seconds that she realized she was looking for Eren. Hurriedly, she looked back at Sasha. "I'm not going to be able to change your mind, am I?" she asked.

"Nope," Sasha said, popping the 'p'.

Mikasa's throat felt tight and scratchy. "The new slayer will be lucky to have you."

Sasha's grin returned. "Once we get her back here, she'll be lucky to have you, too."

"If we can find her," Connie's voice grumbled. Mikasa turned around to find him approaching her and Sasha, arms void of anything to put in the car. "I know Hanji's giving Levi a magic crystal or something that'll help find her, but like... All of Jacksonville? This is gonna be like trying to find the hay in a needlestack."

"Needle in a haystack," Mikasa corrected.

Connie shook his head, expression grave. "She's in Florida. That's one big ol' sack of needles."

Sasha guffawed. "Or maybe you're just scared that you're finally going to find your people."

"Hey!" Connie pointed a finger at Sasha. "You're more Floridian than I am!"

"Nu-uh! Give it a few days and I bet you'll have a pet alligator and everything!"

"Wait, do you think they keep alligators as pets in Florida?"

"Well I mean, it's a big state full of giant man eating lizards and weird people. There's gotta be some who do, right?"

"I mean..."

Mikasa took advantage of the moment of hesitation to cut in, "Connie, did you need something?"

"Right!" Connie exclaimed, slapping a fist against the palm of his other hand. "Erwin wanted you guys to come inside for a bit. I think we're about to get going."

"Oh," Mikasa murmured, trying not to look like her heart was beating erratically within her chest.

Meanwhile, Sasha's voice came as a joyful chirp. "Alright! Don't wanna keep the bossman waiting!" She skipped a few steps toward the house, then glanced over her shoulder when she realized that she wasn't being followed. "Mikasa, you coming?"

Mikasa nodded and forced herself to follow her friend. Her brilliant, kind, compassionate, stupid friend who was racing into danger without Mikasa to protect her. What if today was the last time she ever saw her? She had only just let herself acknowledge Sasha as her friend. Was she going to lose her so soon?

No, that was the wrong question. As long as she was still alive, it would be fine if she lost Sasha. But what if Sasha got herself killed trying to save some strange girl from suffering Mikasa or Annie's fate?

It might happen. And there was nothing that she could do to stop it.

The weight on her shoulders only grew heavier when she followed Sasha into the kitchen. Erwin, Hanji, Jean, Connie, Armin, and Levi were all crammed tightly around Erwin's table. A map of Jacksonville was splayed out over the round, dark brown surface. Mikasa could barely catch a glimpse past everyone peering down at it. The table clearly wasn't meant to fit that many people, yet there was still one empty chair left. Sasha moved to sit down, only to stop herself at the last second and gesture for Mikasa to sit.

Mikasa shook her head. "I'd rather stand," she murmured.

Sasha took a step back and offered her a grin. "In that case, I'll stand too."

"You don't need to-"

"Honestly, more of us should probably be standing anyway. I need room to work, people!" Hanji exclaimed.

Armin stood up, an apology slipping past his lips. Jean quickly followed suit, while Connie shoved his chair away from the table in order to make room. Erwin scooted his own chair back a few inches, but when Levi moved to stand, Hanji grabbed his upper arm and said, "No. You stay here."

Levi shot Hanji a displeased look, but sank back into his chair.

Hanji released Levi's arm to gesture to the map. "Does everyone see the circle?" they asked.

Mikasa nodded. It would have been hard not to notice it - a large portion of the map of Jacksonville had been circled in bright red marker.

"Right," Hanji said, tracing the circle with their index finger. "The slayer is somewhere within this circle."

"So all we have to do is search the circle," Connie said. "That doesn't sound so bad!"

"We have to find one specific girl within that very large circle," Jean said. His voice was already tired, and when Mikasa looked at him, he was frowning heavily as he stared down at the map. "Jacksonville is eight hundred and seventy-five square miles. Even with this, it's still going to take ages."

Sasha whistled. "Someone did his research," she remarked.

"I wanted to have a better idea of what I was getting into," Jean muttered.

Levi crossed his arms and cast a piercing look at the assembled group. "This is going to take a long time. Probably months. If any of you want to back out, this is your last chance."

"No one would blame you if you did," Erwin added, voice gentle.

Mikasa felt her breath hitch as she looked her friends over and allowed herself to hope. To hope that at least one of them would change their mind and stay in Paradis, that they wouldn't take unnecessary risks, that they would stay safe. It was a cruel, selfish hope when she considered that there was a girl out there who might need them, but for a moment, she allowed it.

Armin's expression was harder to read than normal, but she didn't miss the hint of concern on his face or how he had shifted closer to her. Connie was staring at the map with a pensive look on his face. Sasha had removed her bow from its holster and was fidgeting with it as she nibbled on her lower lip, occasionally glancing toward Jean, who had moved to stand the furthest away from the group. Jean was staring at his feet. He didn't speak, but neither did anyone else.

The standstill was broken by Jean lifting his gaze to look at Levi. "I've already made up my mind. My mom knows I'm going to be out of town for a while, and I've switched to online classes for the semester. I'm ready."

That was a lie. The way Jean's voice wavered did not speak of someone who was truly prepared for whatever was to come. However, he kept his gaze locked on Levi's, and after a moment, the demon hunter nodded.

"Alright." Levi looked over to Sasha and Connie. "You two?"

Connie didn't look away from the map. "I already dropped out for the semester, so I mean, it's kinda late to change my mind."

"I'm looking forward to using my bow!" Sasha chirped. She grinned shakily and waved the weapon through the air.

Mikasa exhaled softly. No, of course none of them were going to change their minds. They were the sort of people who would hang around her even though they would have been better off staying away. Even if they were scared and unsure, they wouldn't be backing down.

Hanji clasped their hands behind their head and leaned into their chair with a sigh. "You know, it might not take as long as you'd expect," they remarked. "Levi, do you have those crystals I gave you?"

"They're in the car," Levi said.

Hanji nodded. "Right. They'll glow brighter the closer you get to the slayer. They plateau once they're within a three-mile radius, so they won't lead you straight to her, but it should narrow things down quite a bit before you have to start the real investigative work."

"That'll be helpful if there aren't many people around, but what if she's in a densely populated area?" Armin asked.

"In that case, it'll still be easier to search a three mile radius than eight hundred and seventy-five square miles." Hanji heaved a heavy sigh, dropped their arms to their sides, and sat up straighter. They tried to smile, but gave up and dropped it after a moment. "I'm afraid that's all I've got for you."

"We'll make do," Levi said. His arms were still crossed, but Mikasa thought that she saw his shoulders relax marginally.

"You did great, Hanji," Erwin said. He paused to look over the group before zeroing in on Levi. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Hopefully." Levi dropped his arms to the side, pushed his chair away from the table, and stood up. "We can get going if you're done fussing."

A wry smile twitched at the corners of Erwin's lips. "Consider the fussing over, then."

Levi nodded. "I'll see you at the end of this."

"I trust that I will," Erwin replied.

The room was quiet aside from the faint rustle of paper as Hanji took the map off the table and folded it up. They passed it to Levi without a word. He accepted it and offered the watcher a nod before turning around and moving to walk out of the room.

"Be in the car in three minutes," he called over his shoulder.

Erwin and Hanji exchanged a brief glance before hurrying after him.

Connie snorted. "Well. They aren't big on dramatic goodbyes, are they?"

Armin smiled weakly. "At least not in front of other people, no."

"I mean, there isn't really any need for a big goodbye, is there?" Sasha asked. "We'll be coming back when we find the slayer. And I know Jean and Levi are big pessimists, but if we find her quickly, we might not be gone for very long at all!"

As Sasha met her eyes, Mikasa found that she couldn't do anything but nod. "Right. But... don't rush. Be careful." Make sure that you do come back.

Mikasa had little time to prepare herself as Sasha shoved her bow into Connie's arms before flinging herself at her. She wrapped her arms around her tightly and rocked her back and forth.  It sent a jolt of pain through Mikasa's arms, but she couldn't bring herself to complain.

"H-Hey, Sasha," Armin protested, stepping forward with one fretful hand extended. "Maybe you shouldn't be..."

"Don't worry!" Sasha cried. "We'll all be back before you know it, I promise!"

"Sasha!" Connie exclaimed. "Broken arms, remember!?"

"Oh, shit!" Sasha abruptly let Mikasa go and shot her a horrified look. "I'm sorry! I didn't re-break you or anything, did I?"

"It's fine," Mikasa said. "They're doing a lot better now anyway."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Armin and Jean shoot her similar disbelieving looks. It didn't matter though, not when Sasha smiled at her with blatant relief. "Good. And I mean it! Don't worry about us too much, okay?"

"I'll try not to," Mikasa lied.

Connie stepped forward. "Hey, guys? I'm sorry to break you up, but we should probably get going."

"Before Levi leaves without us," Jean muttered.

"Right, right. I'm coming!" Sasha hesitated for a moment before carefully grabbing Mikasa in a much gentler hug. This time, Mikasa was prepared and endured the slight ache that spread through her arms as she returned her friend's embrace.

The hug lasted for a few seconds. When it was over, Sasha shot her one last smile before turning around and jogging out the door, Connie quick on her heels. Jean moved to follow them, but hesitated at the last second, shooting Mikasa and Armin a long look.

It was Armin who spoke first. "Look after them," he said, voice quiet but heavy.

"I will," Jean said.

"Not just them," Mikasa found herself saying. "Make sure the new slayer doesn't end up like me or Annie."

It was an unfairly heavy weight to put upon him. A terrible burden. Yet it was also one that he had already expressed a willingness to accept. Mikasa didn't want her friends to put themselves in danger, but... someone had to look out for the new slayer, and it was her friends who were willing to put themselves in the line of fire in order to do so. She hated that it was happening, but she also couldn't bring herself to do anything to stop it. She could not say that she believed that they would be successful, but she also was not certain that they were doomed.

Especially with Jean there. Looking at him now, she couldn't help but think of that night in Erwin's guest room, his crushing fear and desire to become someone useful. Out of all of her friends, he had the best chance of keeping history from repeating as long as he kept moving.

Once again, Jean nodded. "I'll try."

With that, he turned around and walked out of the kitchen, leaving only Mikasa and Armin. She felt like she should follow after him, like she should watch her friends pile into the van and then watch the van until it disappeared into the distance. Yet she couldn't bring herself to move.

Warmth brushed against the fingers and palm of her splinted arm; Armin trying to hold her hand. Mikasa glanced at him for a moment before entwining her fingers with his.

"I'm glad that you aren't going with them," she whispered.

"I thought about it, but I didn't want to leave you alone," Armin admitted.

Mikasa swallowed. It shouldn't have mattered if she was alone. The slayer was supposed to be able to work alone.

But she didn't have to.

"Thank you," she whispered.

*

Levi was not an easy person to take a road trip with. He insisted on driving straight to Florida with only short stops for gas, food, and to use the restroom. The closest the man himself came to actually resting was when Sasha convinced him to let her take a turn driving. That only lasted for two hours before Levi declared her driving unacceptable and demanded that he be given the wheel. Even Connie didn't try to test his luck after that. Music was allowed, but if it wasn't to his taste, you would have to deal with his displeased glowers until it ended.

By the time they pulled into the parking lot of a Jacksonville motel, it was the middle of the night and they had been in the van for over a day and a half. Jean's legs were cramping and he wanted nothing more than to get out and breathe some fresh air. From his seat next to Levi, he could clearly see the dark bags that had come to rest under his eyes, speaking of bone-deep exhaustion that had been staved off only through a combination of coffee and spite. God knew that Sasha and Connie had been getting increasingly restless over the past several hours. However, when Levi pulled into a parking spot, none of them moved.

"Are we sure this place is open this late?" Sasha asked.

Jean glanced out the window. The sky above them was dark, but not dark enough to be full of stars. Only the moon and a small scattering of dull lights shone through the light pollution. A handful of streetlamps emanated a dull yellow light that illuminated the front of the long, single-story brick motel. It wasn't too run-down or shabby, Levi having chosen a decent area for them to stay in, but it was no Holiday Inn either. He wouldn't have been surprised to find that the lobby was closed down for the night.

"Google says that it's open until eleven!" Connie declared.

Jean's eyes flickered over to the clock. 10:32.

"They're open," Levi intoned. "The lights are still on in the lobby."

He was right. One window in the front of the motel was significantly larger than the others. It shone brightly enough for him to see a service desk through it. A desk, but no person. A frown flickered across Jean's face. "What if they just leave the lights on at night?"

Levi cast him a measured look. "Then we find somewhere else. But if we wait around, they really will be closed."

With that, Levi turned the van off, unbuckled his seatbelt, and opened the door. Behind him, he could hear Sasha and Connie scrambling to do the same. Jean hesitated for half a second before following suit.

His legs felt like jelly when they hit the pavement. Jean braced himself on the side of the van and looked upward, focusing on just breathing in the fresh air. Well, close to fresh. There was an odd mixture of swamp and oil faintly permeating the air, but it was still better than being stuck in the same van for over thirty hours.

"God," Sasha groaned. Jean glanced her way and found her leaning against the van, her door already closed. "I never want to get in another car again."

"We're going to have to drive back to Arizona," Connie pointed out. He was pacing along the side of the car, pausing to shake his legs every few steps. Jean inched back a little as he passed in front of him.

"Don't remind me," Sasha muttered. She paused, then perked up a little as she called, "Hey, Levi! Do you think we can stop for the night somewhere on the way back?"

Levi shot Sasha a decidedly unimpressed look. "If we have the slayer with us, we're going to need to move faster than we did today."

"Oh." Sasha chuckled uneasily and forced a grin across her face. "That sounds... fun."

"Moron," Connie said, smiling fondly.

Sasha gasped, then hurriedly walked along the side of the car to swat her friend on the shoulder. "I can't believe this! The pot calling the kettle stupid!"

"That isn't-"

"You were thinking the same thing!"

Jean snorted. Tearing his attention away from the morons two, he took a step forward and was pleased to find that his legs felt much more stable this time. Levi noticed and offered him a short nod.

"Come on," he said, turning around and striding toward the motel.

At first, Jean followed without hesitation. However, his footsteps began to slow as they drew closer to the front door. If the lobby really was still open, they would be renting a room or two and getting their keys. That would mean going back inside and laying down and going to sleep. It would be a lie to say that sleep didn't sound absolutely wonderful right now, but continuing to stretch his legs and breathe semi-fresh air sounded better.

Levi didn't so much as look over his shoulder as he tugged the lobby door open. "Knock yourself out."

He continued into the lobby, Sasha following right in after him. However, Connie paused to grin at Jean and tease, "Be careful not to get yourself eaten."

Jean crossed his arms and sent Connie an unimpressed look. "What's going to eat me in a motel parking lot?"

Connie shrugged. "I dunno, some sorta demon? We're supposed to be keeping an eye out for strange things, aren't we?"

With a snort, Jean uncrossed his arms and walked over to lean against the side of the motel. "I don't think I'm going to run into anything supernatural outside a motel."

"You never know! One second you're chilling, the next you could be face to face with mothm-"

"Springer!" Levi's voice called.

"Coming!" Connie shouted. He paused to give Jean one more devious grin before pulling into the motel.

A sigh escaped Jean's lips. "Idiot."

He tilted his head back against the motel wall and closed his eyes. The muscles in his body gradually went lax as he allowed the stress to drain out of him. His mind emptied itself of everything that had been filling it, and for one beautiful moment, he just existed.

Then he heard the footsteps.

He opened his eyes to find a woman approaching him from across the parking lot. Even from a distance, he could see that she was in a state of disarray. Bits of grime were smeared across her face and her dark auburn hair was in disarray. Her clothes looked like they might have once been nice, but white shirt was smudged with dirt, her pants were tattered at the ends, and her black shoes were scuffed and worn. Yet a wide, lopsided smile was plastered across her face.

Jean pulled away from the wall, all of his stress suddenly finding a home in his body once more.

"Have you heard the good news?" the woman asked. Her voice was excited, bright, and sunny. No, jubilant.

As she drew closer, Jean was able to make out a fervent gleam in her eyes. He swallowed heavily. "Good news?" he croaked out.

"Oh, the best news." She paused and threw her arms out wide. "Rod has risen!"

Jean knew that he should have turned around and walked into the lobby right there. However, something about the woman kept him rooted to his spot. "You mean god?" he asked uneasily. He supposed that her clothes looked like they could belong to someone who went around preaching religion, but those people normally weren't so ragged. They wanted you to get closer to them, not scare you off.

Of course, there were always morons like Jean who didn't just walk away. They could make excellent targets.

The woman's smile grew wider. "Yes, exactly!" She hurried over to Jean. He glanced at the door, but didn't move aside from leaning back when she came to a stop only a foot away from him. "Rod has risen, and now that he's here, he's going to mold our world into a more holy one."

Odd. Jean could smell the stink of her breath, but he couldn't catch any trace of alcohol.

"That's great," Jean said, forcing a grin as he stepped to the side to put some space between himself and the woman. "By the way, do you need anything? Maybe some food, or..."

Mental help? The longer he looked at the woman, the more he saw the signs that she had been put together once upon a time. A string of pearls around her neck. A ring on her finger. It made him want to turn and run, but it also left him with the feeling that he would be a vile person for running.

So he did what Marco would do. He pushed down his nerves and forced himself to add, "I'm not from around here, but I could-"

The woman shook her head. "Oh, dear boy. Now that my lord is here, I want for nothing. I need only to spread his word."

Quick as a flash, she reached out and grabbed Jean's wrist. He let out a surprised noise and pulled back, but her grip only tightened. "Tell me, please, won't you help me spread the word?" she demanded, eyes glimmering with something that he couldn't fathom. Didn't want to fathom, for red-hot panic was coursing from his veins, some bone-deep instinct telling him that he had to act fast .

"Yeah," Jean exclaimed, thoughtlessly saying what he thought she wanted him to say. "Yeah, yeah, I'll help you. I'll spread the word. Just-" He tugged again. The woman's grip didn't loosen. "Let go of me!"

The woman's eyes softened. She let go of Jean's hand, and he immediately raised it to his chest to rub at his wrist. "I will let you go," she gently said, "but his grip on the world will never falter. Even after he has made his great departure, what remains will be forever altered, the echoes of his existence blessing us forevermore."

Nonsense. Complete and total nonsense. Of course it was nonsense - this was a woman who clearly needed help. But was he willing to put himself on the line to help an unstable woman who he suddenly suspected could get violent at any second? This wasn't what he signed up for. It wasn't anything supernatural or demonic, just a very human problem. But wouldn't that make it even worse for him to walk away?

He glanced toward the lobby doors, toward Levi. "Look," he tentatively began, "if you-"

"No," the woman interrupted, shaking her head. "No, no, no more talking. I need to keep moving, need to keep spreading the word. I can't... I need to make sure that his name is known by the time the day comes."

With that, the woman turned on her heel and abruptly began to march away.

Jean knew that going after her would be the right thing to do. The good thing to do. What Marco would do. Yet his heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn't bring himself to move.

Soon the woman was gone. Not a second later, the lobby door swung open.

"Hey man," Connie called, dropping a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"You look kinda spooked," Sasha added.

Jean shrugged the hand off his shoulder and turned around to face the rest of the group. "Yeah," he murmured. "No mothman. Just some crazy lady."

Connie blinked. "Woah, really?"

Levi made a derisive noise and shook his head. "Florida." He paused, looking Jean over, before jerking his head to the side and walking down the row of doors. "Come on. Our rooms are ready."

Chapter Text

Sitting in the passenger seat as Levi slowly drove around Jacksonville, staring at a dully-glowing crystal wand and telling him when the glow started to brighten or fade, had to be one of the single most frustrating things that Jean had ever done. So far, they had been driving for hours and the crystal had only started to glow a little bit brighter.

It was a slight comfort to see that he wasn't the only one irritated by their lack of progress. Levi gave a faint sigh before saying, "We'll need to turn back soon."

Jean didn't know if he was happy at the thought of going back to the motel, or upset that they might end up ending the day without having made any progress whatsoever. With a frown, he glanced out of his own window. Rows upon rows of small, run-down houses greeted him. They had been moving through increasingly poorer neighborhoods throughout the day. Soon, he suspected that most of the houses he saw would be abandoned, if they weren't already.

"Will we be starting at the same area?" he asked, turning back around to face Levi.

Levi was facing forward, but Jean could make out the way his lips twitched downwards. "We'll have to. If we want to be thorough, we need to search everywhere."

"Right," Jean said. His gaze flickered to the side as they passed a squat house with peeling yellow paint and boarded-up windows. The sight of it, combined with the knowledge that the sun would soon be setting, made a question bubble to the surface of his mind. "Why are we turning back then?"

Levi's eyes flickered away from the road, toward Jean. "Do you think I'm afraid to be caught in a neighborhood like this at night?"

The words sounded flat, yet Jean thought that he caught a hint of something else lurking beneath the surface. He just didn't know Levi well enough to tell what it was. So he defaulted to saying what came most comfortably; the truth. "I wouldn't blame you if you were."

It was a long moment before Levi said anything. When he did, his words were preceded by a faint hum. "I've spent a lot of time in shittier places than this. I want to get back before your friends head out."

"Right," Jean murmured. He knew that Levi had assigned Sasha and Connie to search a section of the city near the beach, but told them not to leave until after the sun had set. That was because in the two days that they had spent in Jacksonville, he had apparently heard rumors that made him think that there may be a demon in the area. The demon was more likely to be active after sunset, so if Sasha and Connie were active after sunset, they would be more likely to encounter some sign of the demon.

Smart. Simple. Aside from the part where Sasha and Connie may be getting set up to have an encounter with a demon.

The car drove past a second boarded-up house. The crystal glowed as dully as ever.

"If we're going to be back before they go out, why don't we go with them?" Jean asked.

Levi wordlessly drove the van over to the curb and put it in park.

Fuck, Jean thought. Scooting a few inches away from Levi, he uneasily said, "Hey, I'm not trying to-"

"I'm not sending your friends off to get them killed," Levi interrupted.

...It didn't sound like Levi was going to chew him out or try to intimidate him. No, apparently they were actually having this conversation. Jean pursed his lips and forced himself to work around his frayed nerves to ask, "Then why are you sending them out on their own?"

Levi didn't say anything at first. Jean watched as he stared out the windshield, at the disheveled neighborhood around them, and took it all in. When he did speak, he didn't bother looking away. "This demon is predatory, but it also sounds like it's scared of large crowds and prefers to prey on individuals. Considering its territory, that should make it easy to escape. It shouldn't come to that though." He finally paused and looked at Jean. "All they need to do is search for signs of the demon. I told them to call me if they find anything and leave if they think it’s close, but demon hunters can't expect to have someone holding their hand the entire time. The sooner they learn that, the better."

Jean nodded slowly. That was... a fucked up way of doing things. Yet somehow, he thought that he might understand what Levi was getting at. "So this is training? Or some sort of test?"

"Something like that," Levi said.

"Then why didn't you send me with them?" Jean asked.

Levi turned his gaze back to the windshield and put the car into ignition as he said, "Because you've already been tested."

For a moment, Jean wondered what he meant. For half a second, he was tempted to ask what Levi meant.

Then he thought of the images that he hadn't been able to expel from his mind.

Marco trying to reason with heartless monsters. Marco's snapped neck. Reiner's unapologetic gaze.

"Right," Jean mumbled looking back out the window.

Half a second later, it occurred to him that that couldn't be right. After all, he wasn't the only one who had a close encounter with Tybur's cronies. Connie may not have watched anyone die, but Reiner had almost killed him. Wouldn't that also count as a 'test'?

Jean looked back at Levi and opened his mouth, intent on saying as much, when he caught a flicker out of the corner of his eye.

The crystal wand sitting in his lap was beginning to glow brighter.

"Levi!" he explained, lifting the wand up. The glow was gradually increasing with every inch they moved. Where it had been barely noticeable before, now it looked like a pale white glowstick. A few minutes later, it was bright enough to resemble a light-up toy.

They passed a road, and the glow began to fade.

The reaction was instantaneous. Levi jerked the wheel to the side and sent the van into a U-turn so sharp that Jean slammed into the door with a cry of, "Jesus!"

Jean braced his arm against the door and slowly inched up toward the roof of the van, where he grabbed onto the handhold. This turned out to be the wise decision, as Levi proceeded to make another sharp turn onto the road.

In Jean's other hand, the crystal glowed brighter.

Levi drove faster.

"I think you should slow down," Jean said, his voice a little loud even in his own ears. Probably because he was competing with the sound of his own heartbeat.

"Don't tell me how to drive," Levi said, driving a little faster yet. Jean's grip on the handhold tightened.

They proceeded like that for roughly ten minutes - ten of the longest minutes of Jean's life. Levi followed the glow of the crystal, turning sharply down a new road whenever the glow started to fade. It was when they were on a long, winding road leading down rows of utterly decrepit houses that the crystal, now glowing as brightly as a flashlight, failed to get any brighter.

With a scowl slipping across his face, Levi finally slowed down. He continued down the road, eyes flickering toward the crystal every few seconds to make sure that it wasn't getting dimmer. Eventually, the road ended in a wide cul-de-sac. With the crystal still shining bright, Levi sharply pulled the car over - making Jean bump into the door again, but thankfully more gently this time - and put it in park.

"We're in the three-mile radius," he declared.

"Right," Jean croaked as he pulled himself upright, let go of the handhold, and tried to look like his life hadn't been flashing before his eyes only moments ago. "Are we going to-"

He was cut off by the click of Levi unbuckling his seatbelt. The demon hunter then opened his door and stepped out of the van, gesturing for Jean to follow.

"Alright then," he muttered. "This is happening." With a sigh, he grabbed the brightly glowing crystal and stepped out of the van.

The world spun for a moment. He braced a hand against the top of the still-open door as he took in his surroundings.

Once upon a time, this cul-de-sac may have been nice. The houses weren't large, but they weren't overly small either. Most of them had wide windows and porches. However, every last one of them was in some sort of state of disrepair. The paint on the sides of the houses was peeling and most of the windows were dirty. Two of them sported wrought-iron fences, but they were rusty. One had a pair of doberman statutes placed by the front door, both covered in moss and dirt.

Jean glanced at Levi, who was slowly looking from one ramshackle house to another. Hesitantly, he let go of the van, closed the door, and walked over to the demon hunter's side. When a few seconds passed without him acknowledging him, he cleared his throat and whispered, "Do you think the slayer's-"

"Who are you?" a voice called.

Jean and Levi turned at the same time. A brown-haired girl who couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve stood leaning against the doorway of one of the houses to the side of the cul-de-sac. Blatant suspicion glimmered in her face. However, there was only curiosity in the expression of the blond boy peeking over her shoulder.

"We're just passing through," Levi said, taking a step forward. As he did, Jean hastily shoved the crystal in his back pants pocket. The top jutted out of his pocket and pressed against his lower back uncomfortably, but when he looked over, he couldn't see any of its light spilling out past him. It would have to do.

The girl was not satisfied with Levi's answer. She stepped out of the doorway, the boy following a few steps behind her as she walked down the run-down porch covered in intermingled splotches of exposed wood and dull, peeling blue paint and down the front steps to stand at its base. There, she crossed her arms and met Jean and Levi with a challenging brown gaze. "People don't just pass through here," she said.

"They might just be lost," the boy pointed out.

"I didn't ask you," the girl muttered.

The boy frowned, but rather than stepping back, he moved even closer, so that he was standing only a few inches behind her shoulder.

"What do you think we're doing then?" Levi asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I don't know, but it's probably nothing good," the girl declared. She uncrossed her arms and started marching forward again, the boy hurrying after her. Jean watched as she walked across the cracked strip of pavement stretching down the middle of a dead brown lawn. The lawn was enclosed by a dull white wooden fence. It was designed to have three horizontal posts running through it, but over half of them were missing. There was no gate in the fence, just a gap through which people could pass. However, when she reached the fence, she hesitated as if there was, pulling her foot back just before her toe could pass over onto the sidewalk.

Jean found his gaze drifting toward the house itself. Like all of the others in the cul-de-sac, it looked old and worn down, with a ragged brown tile roof and peeling and faded yellow paint. Unlike the other houses, two of the windows were boarded up. All three of the other ones were covered by what looked like heavy curtains.

Something uncomfortable stirred in Jean's stomach.

Meanwhile, the boy reached out to grab the girl's shoulder and hissed, "Gabi."

"Hush," she snapped, shrugging him off.

Levi sighed. "If we're up to no good, you probably shouldn't be walking over to us," he pointed out.

Gabi narrowed her eyes. "Is that a threat?"

"It's common sense," Levi retorted.

Gabi bristled. "I've got plenty of-"

"Falco, Gabi!" a new voice called. A blond teenaged boy rushed out the door. Behind him, a dark-haired young woman was standing in the doorway.

The boy, Falco, started. "Colt!" he exclaimed. "We were just-"

"These two were skulking about. I wanted to see what was up," Gabi groused, her voice immediately taking on a defensive tone.

Colt offered the kids a strained smile as he put a hand on either of their shoulders. "If you were worried, you should have told someone."

Falco looked down at his feet. Meanwhile, Gabi protested, "I can handle it."

The dark-haired woman shook her head. "No one's saying that you can't, but it's better to be safe than sorry." She made her way down to stand by Colt, Falco, and Gabi. When she moved, Jean spotted two other children peering out the doorway behind her.

Jesus Christ, he thought. Just how many kids did they have hidden in that shithole?

Jean exchanged a glance with Levi, who frowned and shook his head subtly.

Meanwhile, the woman crouched down in front of the children and offered them a gentle smile. "Why don't you guys go back inside? I'll take care of this."

Gabi hesitated. "But-"

"Gabi," Falco whispered, reaching out to gently tug on her shirt sleeve.

"Fine," Gabi snapped, yanking her arm out of his grasp and turning around to stomp back into the house. Falco and Colt exchanged a look before following after her.

The door closed behind the three of them, leaving Jean, Levi, and the mystery woman. She stood back up and planted her hands on her hips with a sigh. "So. What are you doing out here?"

Jean took a moment to take her in. She wore a loose-fitting white top and a brown skirt, casual and comfortable, but not quite as ragged as he would expect of someone who lived in a house like the one before him. Her long black hair was unruly, but not completely tangled. With heavy-lidded brown eyes and an aquiline nose, she might have been cute in a messy way if she weren't so damn sketchy.

"It's like the kid said," Levi said. "We got lost and stepped out to figure out directions."

"Right," the woman said, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Where are your phones, then?"

"The loud-mouthed brat started interrogating us before we could get them out." Levi reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and waved it slightly.

Jean's gaze wandered back over to the door where the children had disappeared. "How many kids do you have here?" he asked.

The woman crossed her arms. "Just the four and Colt."

Four kids and a teenager in this rotten old house. "And you're their guardian?"

"Me and a friend," the woman confirmed. "Why, are you from CPS?"

"No, but-"

"Are you here to offer us a better house, then?"

Jean forced himself to tear his gaze away from the house and back to the woman's face. Her expression was vague, leaving him unable to tell if she was teasing or not.

"Jean, we're leaving," Levi called, already beginning to turn around and walk back to the van.

"Alright. Um. Sorry, uh..." he paused, staring at the dark-haired woman.

The corners of her lips twitched upwards, her expression softening somewhat. "I'll tell you my name if I see you again," she said.

"Right," Jean muttered. "Well, sorry for the interruption."

He grabbed the crystal out of his pocket and carefully blocked it from the woman's sight as he turned around and walked back toward the van. Once he had opened the door and climbed into the passenger's seat, he allowed it to drop down into his lap.

"So," he began, voice sounding as dull as he felt. "Do you think she's the slayer?"

Levi frowned as he put his keys into the ignition and turned. "I doubt we'll find her that easily. But if she is, now we know where she lives."

"Should we keep looking, in case it isn't?" Jean asked.

Levi maneuvered the car out of the cul de sac, far more carefully than he had driven in. "There's no point," he said. "When you're somewhere like this, it takes a lot to get out. Unless she dies overnight, I'm willing to bet that she'll still be in the same area tomorrow."

"I see," Jean muttered. Then he sighed. For all that Levi was probably trying to be reassuring, those words only made him feel even worse. "Levi, those kids-"

"I know," he said. "But people end up in horrible situations all the time. And more often than not, there isn't anything you can do about it."

*

The pier reached over a hundred yards out into the water. Even from a distance, he could see people moving around on it, illuminated by the strings of multi-colored lights strung up on its sides. They were still close enough to hear the pulsating music playing from oversized speakers placed at the pier's entrance.

That music, growing fainter with every step they walked, the quiet calls of sea birds, and the sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore were the only things keeping the night from being dead silent. Connie had expected the beach to be lively because of the pier. Instead, it'd had the opposite effect. Alight with music, food, and stalls selling all sorts of interesting knick-knacks, almost everyone had been drawn in by the evening festivities, leaving the beach itself empty save for the occasional straggler. It was weird.

Then again, maybe it wasn't weird for the beach to be mostly empty. For one thing, it was dark out. Not too many people tended to visit the beach after dark. For another, Florida may have been a warm state, but it was still December. Connie wouldn't have gone in that water if someone paid him.

December. Not just December - it was the day before Christmas Eve. It was the day before Christmas Eve and he and Sasha were wandering around a stretch of beach looking for "signs of anything unnatural". Yeah, forget what he had thought about the empty beach being weird. They were the weird ones.

Connie sighed and swung his flashlight to point out at the ocean. He was met by the sight of waves of murky grey-blue water sloshing lazily against the shell-speckled shoreline. Hints of starlight glimmered on the waves as they crested, but even with the calm motion of the waves, the image was shattered when they crashed against the shore.

"Get that light back over here!" Sasha cried. "How'm I supposed to look for clues if I can't see?"

"Look for clues? You sound like a Scooby-Doo character," Connie teased, turning the flashlight back around to illuminate the stretch of sand in front of them. There were only a few hundred feet to go before they would reach what looked like a seaside bar. It was swathed in shadows, all of the lights turned off - probably because most people weren't wandering around the beach on Christmas Eve.

Sasha shrugged. The movement jostled the bow and quiver attached to her back; a sight which disturbingly few people had looked twice at when they passed the pier. "I mean, we are looking for a monster," she said.

"Yeah, just looking," Connie said, warily eyeing Sasha's bow. Erwin may have started giving everyone self-defense lessons after that first meeting in the library, but the fact remained that none of them had gone on a proper patrol or killed a demon yet. They were supposed to be scoping the area out and scoping only.

Sasha stopped and looked over her shoulder to frown at Connie. "Look, I'm not planning on confronting anything without calling Levi. But if we do run into somethin', we wanna be able to defend ourselves. Like, you still have the knife Levi gave you, right?"

Right. He'd forgotten about that for a moment. Connie reached his hand into his pocket, feeling for the smooth handle of the sheathed blade. He pulled his hand back out without removing the weapon. "Yeah," he said.

"Well, there you go. Being weird about my bow would just make you a hypocrite." She turned her head back forward and started walking again, but was slow enough that Connie caught the grin that flashed across her lips. And he certainly didn't miss her snicker. "A hypocrite that probably wouldn't do as good against a demon as me."

Connie sputtered. "That is not true!" he exclaimed, stomping one foot against the sand.

"Is so!" Sasha trilled. She picked up her pace as she did, forcing Connie to hurry forward to keep up with her. "A bow's a long-distance weapon, and long-distance probably does better against demons."

"You don't know that!" Connie protested, stepping forward to walk alongside her. "Besides, Levi said that he fights close-ranged."

"Yeah, but we aren't Levi. I know I do better with a bow. But no matter the weapon-" Sasha paused to shoot him a smug grin. "I still have more experience than you."

"You have more experience hunting animals! I've actually-"

Connie snapped his mouth shut. The words had escaped his mouth before he could actually think about it, but now that they were out there, they were dragging memories with them. Memories and thoughts that he didn't want to think.

He looked up at the beautiful, starry sky, a sky that he wasn't supposed to still be able to appreciate the way he did, and felt his heart squeeze.

Sasha's soft, somber voice pulled his attention back down to earth. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Connie murmured, looking down at his feet. Just not in the way you think.

"I'm sorry," Sasha whispered. "But you know, if Ymir has the gem now, that means that Reiner's probably-"

"-Yeah," Connie cut in. "Yeah, I know."

Sasha stopped walking and looked at him worriedly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. No. Maybe. He supposed there was no real point in not talking about what happened between him and Reiner if he really was dead, especially now that Mikasa had found out. But if Reiner was dead... well, there was no real reason to talk about it. It would just be uncomfortable for both of them.

"Nah," Connie said, waving a hand and walking forward again. "Let's just keep looking for this beastie."

Sasha hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

They walked in silence for a little while after that. Connie tried to keep his head clear as he flickered between looking at the ocean and the bar up ahead of them. Now that they were closer, he could see that it was your classic tourist-trap-type tiki bar. It consisted of the bar itself, a simple back, a straw roof, a handful of stools, and a few torches placed around it. Not very exciting, but considering that it was relatively close to the beach, it probably saw a good amount of business during the summer.

They were about fifty yards away from the bar when Sasha let out a gasp and dropped to her knees.

Connie turned around and shone the flashlight on her. "What's wrong!?" he exclaimed.

"I think I found something," Sasha said, picking at the sand. A moment later, she lifted her hand, a flat, shiny green triangle roughly the size of a quarter pinched tightly between two fingers.

"A seashell?" Connie asked dubiously.

"No, no, not a seashell." Sasha jumped to her feet and shoved the item in his face. He automatically staggered a few steps back, which only made her lean in closer.

"Hold on, I can't see if you get too close!" He cried.

Sasha scuttled backwards. With the new distance between them, Connie turned his flashlight to the green triangle. The first thing he noticed was that it had a faint iridescent sheen. The second, more alarming thing was that one of the edges looked torn and bloody. Leaning in closer, he saw what looked like a tiny bit of flesh clinging to it.

"Shit," he whispered. "You don't think-"

"It's a scale, " Sasha breathed. "A big one."

Big, as in far too big to belong to anything natural. Well, anything except maybe an alligator, but last he checked, alligators didn't shimmer.

Connie took a step back and slowly cast his flashlight around. "D'you think that whatever left that is-"

A shadow rushed past the corner of his vision, followed by a loud crash from the direction of the tiki bar.

Sasha's alarmed gaze met his.

"We need to call Levi," Connie said, already fishing for his phone in his pants pocket.

Another crash sounded, this time accompanied by the sound of snapping wood. A reptilian hiss echoed through the night air, a muffled curse close on its heels.

"I think it's got someone," Sasha whispered. Her voice was rife with fear, yet she had already begun to reach for her bow.

Connie swallowed heavily. "Levi told us not to do anything stupid," he said. The cold pit in his stomach told him to follow that advice, to make sure that he got through this night alive. So why was his free hand already reaching for the knife in his other pocket?

Sasha pulled her bow off her back, grabbed an arrow, and began to position them with shaking hands. "If we wait for him, it'll probably be too late."

A loud thud split the air. Connie flinched, then winced at the sound of a harsh, screeching hiss. That thing sounded pissed, and he didn't have to be an expert to know that a pissed-off demon was bad news.

Especially if you were on your own. It sounded like whoever the monster had its hands on was trying to hold them off, but that didn't mean anything in the long run. What if they were unarmed? Every second they spent doing nothing made it more likely that they would be-

Connie let go of the phone, pulled the knife out of his pocket, and unsheathed it. "Alright," he said, trying not to sound terrified and failing desperately. "Let's... let's go do something stupid."

He pointed the flashlight toward the tiki bar, and the two of them rushed forward.

They were only a few long paces away from the bar when two figures popped up from beneath it, making both of them skid to a halt. A person stood obscured behind the figure of what Connie could only describe as a lizardman. He impulsively pointed his knife at it, acutely aware that its claws looked like they were almost as large as its blade.

Meanwhile, the demon furiously swatted at the person before him. His would-be victim ducked down, slid to the side, jumped back up, and jammed what looked like half a broken tiki torch through the lizard's neck. It collapsed onto the bar with a sickening gurgle and twitched as it bled out, claws raking gashes against the surface of the already-battered counter.

For a moment, Sasha and Connie just stared. Then Sasha sucked in a jagged breath and aimed her bow - but not at the dying demon. For standing above the demon, staring at them with a shocked expression, was...

Connie let out a deep, unsteady breath and lowered his knife. "Reiner."

Chapter Text

Reiner looked like shit. There was just no nicer way of putting it.

The first thing that Connie noticed was that he'd lost a lot of weight. His tattered clothes fit loosely on his frame where his muscular build once shone through, and his face was edging in dangerously close to gaunt. He had a short, ragged beard and dark, heavy circles had come to rest under his eyes. His eyes themselves flickered with shock and something shadowed and pained. 

Connie should have been angry to see him. He should have been upset to find out that he wasn't dead. He should be following Sasha's lead and pointing his weapon at him. Instead, he had already lowered his knife. Instead, his chest hurt, but he also felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Instead, he was relieved. 

Reiner was alive. He looked like shit, but he was alive. Or at least, as close to alive as a vampire got.

He was alive and very clearly did not know what to do. Which, to be fair, neither did Connie. They just stood there for an uncomfortably long time, staring at each other in bewilderment and, in Sasha's case, fear.

"...Connie. Sasha," Reiner eventually croaked out, his voice hoarse and ragged. He drew back a step as he uneasily continued, "What are you-"

"Don't come any closer!" Sasha cried, pulling her arrow back. "Levi's teaching me to hunt demons, and if you try anything, I'll-"

"Sasha," Connie murmured, reaching a hand out to gently push down the arm she was using to aim the bow. "It's alright." He glanced back over at Reiner, took in his state of broken disarray, and swallowed heavily. "He isn't going to do anything."

"How can you say that!?" Sasha exclaimed, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. Her shaking hands sent tremors down her bow, but she still aimed at Reiner, who just stared at the bow with a defeated expression. It was met by Sasha's wild, terrified eyes. She swallowed heavily, an edge of hysteria bleeding into his voice when she spoke again. "He killed Marco, Connie! He tried to kill you!"

Connie looked at Reiner; the person who he and everyone else had called friend, only for him to turn around and betray them in the worst of ways. A monster who had tricked them all and tried to kill him.

But he hadn't. He hadn't, and the memory of that night hadn't faded in all of the weeks that passed.

No one was that good of an actor.

"I know because something happened that night," Connie said, stepping in between Reiner and Sasha's bow, not taking his eyes off the arrow. "Reiner got his soul back."

Sasha took in a sharp breath. She didn't lower her bow, but it started to shake even harder as she peered around Connie, at the vampire in question. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

Meanwhile, Reiner whispered, "How do you know about that?"

Connie slowly turned around to face Reiner, taking in the surprise on his face. It was tainted by something darker, guilt and grief, probably brought on by the memories of that night. Or maybe it was just the memory of everything. A bittersweet smile slid across Connie's face. "Hanji thought it was pretty obvious when I explained. I mean, there aren't a lot of things that could make a vampire have a guilt-ridden breakdown."

"What?" Sasha whispered. Connie glanced over his shoulder to see that she had started to lower her bow. There was still fear in her expression, but also confusion and curiosity - the willingness to hear him out. He shot her a grateful look before turning his gaze back to Reiner, who had begun to fidget slightly and looked about ready to bolt.

"Yeah," Connie said. "Reiner was going to bite me, but then his eyes glowed gold, and he broke down crying and apologizing, to me and... everyone else."

Reiner already seemed like he was having trouble looking at him. Now, he broke down and looked at his feet.

Connie heard the sound of footsteps behind him. A second later, Sasha stepped up beside him, her bow now tucked safely under her arm. He took advantage of her presence to shove the flashlight into her free hand, which she accepted with a frown. She took a moment to adjust her grip on it, the beam of light flickering between Reiner and the body of the dead lizard demon, before focusing it on the vampire.

"Okay," she said, frustration joining the myriad of emotions in her voice. "So Reiner has a soul now. What does that mean and why wasn't I told about it?"

"Because it doesn't actually change anything," Reiner whispered.

Connie's expression slipped into a frown. "Hanji sure seemed to think it does," he said. taking a step forward. Reiner flinched, but didn't turn around and run away like he half expected him to. "They made it sound like not having a soul is a big part of what makes vampires evil killing machines. We would have gone after you, but they weren't sure that it wasn't, well..."

"A trap," Reiner finished.

"Yeah." Just like how his initial displays of friendship and camaraderie had all been one big trap. For a moment, Connie faltered, all of that hurt and betrayal bubbling up to the surface. It was the sight of Reiner glancing off to the side that pushed him to keep going. "But look! You didn't kill me, and you didn't help with..."

Tybur. Annie. Bertolt. People who, judging by the wave of fresh grief that washed over his face, Reiner had probably cared about to at least some degree. Biting his lower lip, Connie hurriedly redirected, "You know, we actually thought you were dead? Since Ymir has your ring and all."

Reiner's gaze snapped over to meet his. "Ymir has the Gem of Amara?" he asked.

"Yeah," Connie said, shrugging. Like he was just having a casual conversation in which shrugging was a normal and expected thing to do. "I guess it's not that bad, since she helped Mikasa out of a bind, but we didn't really understand how she could have gotten it unless you'd..."

Died. Broken down and committed suicide soon after Connie took his eyes off him, the way freshly re-souled vampires tended to do. Without really realizing it, he took half a step closer to the vampire.

"Oh," Reiner said, voice vacant. He briefly looked at a spot across the bar, a few feet away from the dead demon, before looking back at Connie and Sasha. "It's probably because I threw it in the river."

Connie felt something in his brain grind to a halt. Meanwhile, Sasha made a faint noise of disbelief.

"You threw it in the river?" she parroted. 

"Yes," Reiner said.

"The magical, super-powerful, one-of-a-kind ring that makes vampires unkillable? You just. Threw that in the river?" she pressed.

Reiner glanced back at the spot by the demon. He stared at it for half a second before wincing. "I didn't think it would resurface," he muttered.

Connie and Sasha looked at each other for a moment. Then they both turned back to Reiner and stared. "I guess you really did have a breakdown," she said, uncertainty still etched into her voice. "But if... If you aren't evil anymore, why did you run away?"

It was a good question, just like the one burning on the surface of Connie's mind. 

Why would you throw the ring in the river?  

Unfortunately, he had a feeling that they weren't going to get an easy answer to either of them.

Reiner immediately proved him right. He scrubbed a hand across the side of his face and let out a sigh. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked, exhaustion bleeding into his voice.

"Levi had us searching out a demon." Connie closed the remaining distance between himself and the bar. He looked from Reiner, now only a few feet away, and then down at the dead, blood-spattered demon. Was it just his imagination, or did it look a lot more decayed than it had a second ago? Warily, he reached out and wiggled the great shard of wood sticking out of the demon's throat.

There was a wet gurgle , and several scales slid off of the carcass, green ooze trailing behind them.

"Gross," Sasha whispered.

Connie quickly let go of the shard and stepped down the side of the bar, closer to Reiner and further away from the carcass. The very rapidly decomposing carcass. Yeah, gross was one word for that.

"What are you doing in Jacksonville," Reiner clarified.

Connie stopped himself short of opening his mouth. It was tempting to tell Reiner that they were looking for the new slayer. If he'd been in Jacksonville since getting his soul back, there was a chance that he had noticed something weird. He could be useful if he was willing to work with them. But on the other hand...

On the other hand, it was Reiner. He wasn't evil anymore - probably - and yes, Connie was stupidly, selfishly relieved that he wasn't dead, but there was still a lot that he didn't know about his situation. That lack of knowledge was accompanied by a sinking feeling that everything he stood to learn would be messy and complicated. Not being evil anymore wasn't the same as never having been evil, and having a soul didn't undo everything that Reiner had done. It wasn't a promise that he could trust him either. Annie had a soul and she had betrayed them all. The people on the watcher's council had souls and they all still sounded like a nest of snakes.

It felt clear to Connie that something had fundamentally changed in Reiner. That didn't mean that he could just go ahead and tell him about the slayer. Disregarding the murders, betrayal,  all the other painful feelings lingering deep inside him that he didn't know how to deal with, he was pretty sure that Levi would skin him alive if he tried to loop Reiner in without at least asking him first.

While Connie and Reiner eyed each other silently, it was Sasha who broke the quiet that had fallen over them. "What are you doing in Jacksonville?" she asked, pointing an accusing finger.

Reiner glanced off to the side again. A moment later, he looked back at Sasha and Connie, expression shifting into something grave.  "There's something that I need to take care of. But you shouldn't be here - it's not safe."

Connie glanced at Sasha, who shrugged.

"Uh, yeah," he said, looking back at Reiner. "We know that demon hunting isn't safe. But after everything we saw, we want to make a difference."

"That's not what I meant," Reiner said, his voice taking on a sharp edge. Stress? Yes, but there was more than that. Exasperation? No, worry. "Jacksonville isn't safe. There's-" He cut himself off abruptly, clenching his jaw and shaking his head.

"If something's going on, isn't that more reason for us to stay?" Sasha ventured hesitantly. She took a few careful steps up to stand by Connie, a few scant feet away from the demon carcass, which was now halfway to being nothing more than a pile of goop. "If you tell us what's wrong, maybe Levi-"

"No," Reiner hissed, pinning them beneath a gaze that was more solid than anything Connie had seen from him throughout this entire conversation. "This isn't something that you want to be involved with. Tell Levi that you need to go back to Arizona and forget about whatever it is you came here for."

"We don't want to be involved, or you don't want us to get involved?" Connie retorted.

Reiner ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting between him, Sasha, and that place in the distance. "I don't know - both? I'm right either way."

Connie put a hand on his hip. "Really? Because I don't feel like your judgment is really sound right now. Does this have something to do with Tybur?"

"What? No. I haven't-" Reiner shook his head and took a step back. "I haven't been in contact with them since before - since before." He took a step back and shook his head again. "Look, I have to go."

A jolt of alarm shot through Connie. "Hey, hold up!" he cried, hurrying forward. When he was only a foot or so away from the vampire, he blurted out, "Don't you want to know what happened to Annie and Bertolt?"

Wow, that was probably one of the stupidest things that he could have said. Reiner looked even worse up close, and the proximity allowed him to see how the flash of pain blossomed in his eyes and began to radiate outward before he seized control of his expression and froze it. "Mikasa won, right?"

Connie gave a hesitant nod. "Well, yes, but-"

Reiner shook his head. "-Then that tells me all I need to know."

Connie reached out to grab his arm, but he pulled back too quickly for him to grasp it.

"I meant what I said that night," he said. "I really am sorry."

"I know," Connie said. "That's why you should-"

"No." Reiner shook his head. "Get out of Florida, and don't look for me. For everyone's sake."

Connie frowned. "What do you mean 'for everyone's sake'?"

He didn't get an answer; Reiner had already turned and started to run off before he could even finish his sentence. Connie let out a frustrated noise and threw his hands in the air. He wanted to run after the vampire, but one look at how fast he was moving told him that he wouldn't stand much of a chance at actually catching him.

"Well, that was cryptic," Sasha said. "Do you think it was a threat?"

"No," Connie said, walking over to her. She held the flashlight out and he accepted it. "I think that he's in some sort of shit and wants us to stay out of it."

"Why?" Sasha asked.

Why, indeed. Connie's first thought was of how Reiner had behaved back when he thought that he'd known him, the reliable, protective, older brother figure. If there was even an ounce of truth to how he had acted back then, then now that he had his soul back, he might want them to stay out of danger because he didn't want them to get hurt. Or maybe his avoidance was more selfish in nature. Maybe seeing them brought up more guilt than he could handle, or he was afraid that Levi would decide to try and kill him.

Maybe the soul didn't mean as much as he hoped it did and he was doing something terrible and trying to hide it.

The truth was, Connie didn't know what Reiner was doing or why. The truth was that he didn't know Reiner.

"No idea," he sighed. "I guess we'll just have to see what Levi says."

Sasha frowned, looking at the bar. Connie followed her gaze to a pile of dark green sludge that was now dripping over the sides of the bar, great clumps of ooze getting caught in the straw on the front. It was disgusting, but probably better than leaving the body of a lizard-thing behind, and definitely easier than trying to dig a grave with their bare hands.

"Do you think he'll be upset that we went after the demon?" she whispered.

Connie shrugged. "Eh. I'm hoping that the Reiner bit will distract him."

*

They walked back to the pier, where Connie called Levi to pick them up. That left them standing on the strip of sand-splattered sidewalk at the edge of the pier's parking lot with nothing to do but wait. Wait, talk, and think. Which sucked, because while Sasha had a whole lot to think about, she didn't know what she actually made of any of it, let alone what to say.

Actually, no. There was one thing that she knew that she wanted to say.

Sasha had re-holstered her bow on her back before they returned to the pier, but she had never returned her arrow to its quiver. Now she anxiously twirled it between her fingers, eyes focused on her hand to make sure that she didn't fumble it. She remained that way as she said, "You should have told me about Reiner."

"I told you, we weren't sure if it was safe," Connie said. His voice was weak, just like his attempt at defending himself. He knew that he had messed up - that was good. But did he understand why she was saying what she was saying? Probably not. The dummy.

"How would knowing have put me in danger?" Sasha asked, stubbornly keeping her gaze glued on her arrow. She watched it spin and twirl between her fingers, a nice, fun, bright, lively distraction from all of the unpleasant things she'd probably see if she looked at Connie's expression. "It's not like I was going to run off and get in a fight with him."

"I mean, you did run after that demon," Connie pointed out.

Sasha scowled. "That's different. I thought someone was in danger, a non-vampire someone, and I..." She hadn't wanted to chase after the demon - not really. At the moment, her stomach had felt cold and her feet heavy. But she also couldn't stop thinking about what might happen to the demon's victim if someone didn't help them, about how if she didn't help them, no one would. That was because a person was in danger though. If it was just the demon, she would have run and called Levi like they'd been told to do. She certainly wouldn't have gone running after Reiner if she heard that he'd gotten his soul back. Maybe she would have been a little slower to react if he had gone after her, but he hadn't gone after her anyway, so that was beside the point. The point being-

"You're trying to distract me!" Sasha exclaimed, twirling around to point at Connie with a scowl.

Connie shrugged sheepishly. and looked down at his feet, effectively hiding his face from her line at sight. At the moment, she didn't know if she was happy about it or frustrated. "Maybe a little," he said. "This isn't exactly a fun thing to talk about, you know."

Sasha gently ran her pointer finger over the tip of her arrow. It was sharp to the touch, but she didn't use enough pressure to draw blood. "It's been bothering you," she said.

Of course, she had already known that much. Connie was her best friend, she would have to be utterly blind to not notice how shaken his encounter with Reiner had left him. However, she had assumed that he was upset specifically because he had almost died. Now she was starting to wonder if it might have been something else entirely - something that made it that much more stupid that Connie had been keeping this to himself.

"Can we wait to talk about it?" Connie whispered, still looking at his feet. "We're going to have to explain to Jean and Levi, and I don't really want to go over this twice."

"...Alright," Sasha said after a moment. "We can wait. But you'd better tell me everything."

"I will," Connie said. "I promise."

The pair of them lapsed into silence after that. It wasn't quite uncomfortable, but it certainly left Sasha wanting. She was just reaching into her pants pocket for her phone when Levi's van pulled up. He rolled down his window, Jean visible in the passenger's seat, and jerked his head toward the back.

Sasha opened the back door and climbed in obediently, Connie following after her. Sitting with her bow and quiver on her back quickly proved uncomfortable, so she pulled both into her lap before buckling in. Levi already had the van moving before she was finished, but he did wait until both she and Connie were settled to start talking.

"What happened?" Levi asked.

Sasha chuckled nervously. "Getting right to the point, huh?"

At the same time, Connie asked, "What makes you think something happened?"

"Your voice," Levi intoned. "If you're trying to hide something, you're shit at it."

Jean squirmed around in his seat to stare back at them, a heavy frown on his face.

"I'm not trying to hide anything," Connie said. "I'm just..." He raised a hand to rub at the back of his head. "I'm trying to figure out the best way to say it."

"Just spit it out," Jean urged. "Is anyone hurt?"

Connie shook his head. "No, uh. The opposite, actually."

Jean frowned. "What does that-"

"We ran into Reiner!" Sasha blurted out.

"What!?" Jean exclaimed.

Levi jerked the van over to the side of the road, sending Connie slamming into the door and Sasha tumbling into him with a squawk.

"You saw Reiner Braun?" Levi asked, bracing one arm around the back of his seat as he turned around.

"Yeah," Sasha said, pushing herself off of Connie and sliding back across the seats with an apologetic glance. "He looked..."

"Bad," Connie filled in. He met Levi's eyes head-on as he continued. "He looked really bad, Levi. I think... Hanji was right. Hanji was definitely right."

"Right about what!?" Jean exploded. He unbuckled himself so that he could twist around to face Sasha and Connie. His expression was riddled with fear, panic, and fury. Sasha felt her stomach lurch and her heart sink as she thought about why he probably looked like that.

Suddenly, she couldn't blame Connie for wanting to wait to explain. The story of how he was almost murdered by someone he considered a friend couldn't be an easy one to tell. With Jean around, it would only get harder.

Fuck. If Reiner really wasn't evil anymore, that was a good thing. Probably. Maybe. But that didn't mean that it would be easy for Jean to hear about him. Sasha couldn't bring herself to look up at him as he continued, "How can you talk about him so calmly? How- If you really ran into that bastard, how are you still alive?"

Levi sighed. Sasha glanced up in time to see him turn back around to gaze out the windshield. "Well, Springer?" he prompted. "I'm not going to explain for you."

"R-Right," Connie said. "Jean, remember the night that Reiner attacked me?"

"Not really," Jean growled. "I spent most of the night in a bar. I blacked out at some point, and when I woke up, my phone was blowing up."

Levi made an unimpressed noise.

"I know that I was being stupid," Jean snapped, his voice on the edge of defensive even though the words themselves were an admission.

"Good," Levi muttered. "Don't let it happen again. Even if you're grieving, getting wasted during a crisis is a good way to get yourself killed."

"Yeah," Jean murmured, voice weakening. "I’m sorry. I should have been..."

"It isn't important now," Levi said. "Just let Springer tell his story, and try not to interrupt until it's done." He paused, turning around just enough to shoot a wary look at Sasha. "That goes for both of you."

Sasha frowned. If Levi was telling her not to interrupt, that probably meant that Connie was going to say something that would make her really want to interrupt. That made her inclined to refuse to agree. But... did she really want to risk upsetting Levi?

No. No, she did not. Therefore, she reluctantly nodded.

Connie gave a long exhale and stared down at his lap. "Right," he began."So, I didn't tell you guys everything that happened that night. Not because I wanted to keep stuff from you, but..." He looked up at Levi, who had turned back around to watch him. The demon hunter nodded. "...We didn't have any way to know if what we thought happened had actually happened, and Hanji said that it was dangerous if I told everyone and then it turned out we were wrong."

Jean opened his mouth, but a stern look from Levi made him close it before any words could escape. For her part, Sasha twisted her fingers around the strap of her quiver as she gazed anxiously at Connie.

Connie continued staring down at his lap for a moment longer. Then he looked up, gaze settling in on Levi, and told them everything.

Even though she knew that he had made it out alive, Sasha still felt her heart lurch when Connie talked about how Reiner had broken into his room. Her stomach twisted when he told them how casual Reiner had been, miserably failing to comprehend exactly what it meant that he had killed people or show even a shred of genuine remorse. How his solution to his and Connie's inability to see eye-to-eye had apparently been to turn him. While Connie was talking about how he had tried to stake him, missed, and ended up jumping out of his window, she dared glance over at Jean.

If she was uncomfortable, then he was having an absolutely miserable time. His face had gone pale and his eyes shimmered wetly. Sasha turned her head away, but kept glancing at him as Connie went on to explain how something had changed. She didn't miss the way Jean's expression closed down and shifted into something nigh unreadable as Connie spoke of how something had changed. Just when Reiner had been about to bite him, his eyes had glowed golden, and suddenly he was breaking down and apologizing, unable to handle what he had done. How, after Bertolt had shown up, he had left and explained everything to Hanji, who said that it sounded like Reiner had gotten his soul back.

"I-It wasn't like he was suddenly a different person, I don't think," Connie said. "It was more like a switch was flipped, and suddenly he felt and understood all of those things that he didn't earlier. And he couldn't handle it. When Bertolt showed up, he... he looked like something horrible had just happened. Which, I guess it did, from Tybur's perspective. I don't see Reiner being much use to them now." Connie shrugged weakly.

Sasha wasn't sure if she should speak right then. It didn't feel right. However, it felt just as wrong to be quiet. Since there was no real winning either way, she bit the bullet and pointed out, "Bertolt wasn't with Tybur in the end though. His deal with Mikasa, do you think he-"

"Yeah," Connie said softly. "He told her that Reiner got his soul back. She wasn't very happy that I didn't tell her, I don't think."

"But you still didn't tell the rest of us," Sasha said, letting go of her quiver to cross her arms. Okay, so maybe she was still a little sore over the secrecy. She'd just found out that her best friend was keeping a big, devastating secret - she was entitled to being a little bitter. Sue her.

"I didn't think it mattered," Connie murmured. "Hanji said..." He hesitated for a moment, a pained look flashing across his face, and drew in a shallow breath before continuing. "Hanji said that most vampires killed themselves within a year of getting their souls back. After Ymir showed up with the ring..."

"You thought Reiner killed himself," she whispered.

That explained a lot about how Connie had been lately. He had liked Reiner a lot and had been pretty conflicted when he found out that he was a vampire. Seeing him get the soul back and suddenly have the option to be something other than a murderous monster, only to think that he killed himself almost immediately after... it must have felt like getting a friend back and then losing him in the same instant.

No wonder he hadn't wanted her to shoot him.

Sasha shifted her bow and quiver onto the van's floor so that she could reach over and hug Connie. He made a surprised noise, but did not resist her touch.

"If only he did," Jean muttered.

Connie stiffened in Sasha's grasp. She gave him a little squeeze before letting go and turning a glower toward Jean. A gentle glower, but a glower nonetheless.

Jean didn't falter. "It would have been less trouble for us if he were dead," he said, his face shifting as a touch of blistering, painful fury shone through. "I can tell you're not going to let us stake the bastard, but having a soul doesn't change any of the things he's done. It doesn't bring Marco or any of his other victims back to life. Hell, it doesn't even guarantee that he's a good person. Annie's a murderer and she's human. For all that we know, Reiner was a bastard even with a soul."

"I know that!" Connie exclaimed. "It's just..." he raked a hand over his head and scowled. "You haven't seen him. He's different. He didn't kill himself, but he looked like shit, and he killed that demon Levi sent us after. It would be wrong to kill him without giving him a chance to do better."

"Maybe he doesn't want to do better," Jean growled. "He could have just killed that demon because he wanted to kill something!"

Connie threw his hands up in the air. "That's not it! When he saw that me and Sasha were here, he seemed worried about us. He said..." he paused, a frown slipping across his face. "He said that we should all go back to Paradis, for 'everyone's sake'."

Jean's scowl deepened. "And that sounded like concern to you?"

"It was different if you were there!" Connie cried. "I get that this is hard for you-"

"-What's hard for me is seeing you fooled so easily," Jean interrupted.

Sasha leaned forward to wave an arm in between Jean and Connie. "Hey, hey, let's not fight!" she exclaimed. "Maybe we should just... leave Reiner alone and pretend that we never saw him? Give him a second chance by pretending that he doesn't exist?"

Levi finally broke his silence with a stony voice that would take no arguments. "No. This is important. Connie, you said that he was worried and wanted us to go back to Paradis. Did he say why?"

Jean looked away from Sasha and Connie in favor of peering at Levi.

"Not... Really?" Connie said. "He was really vague. He just said that something dangerous was happening and we should go back to Paradis. Why?"

Levi let out a heavy breath, turned back around, and directed the car back onto the road. "He's probably run off by now," he muttered, tapping a finger against the steering wheel.

"You make it sound like we're going after him," Sasha remarked, a bubble of unease rising in her chest.

"Braun was an odd one even before his soul," Levi said, not taking his eyes off the road. "His kill patterns didn't match his personality. He was trying too hard to be something that he wasn't.  Erwin and Shitty Glasses figured it was because he was hiding something from Tybur. Hoover, too." Sasha caught a glimpse of Levi's eyes as he glanced in the rearview mirror. They were flinty with focus and certainty. "Doesn't it seem like an awful big coincidence for him to show up here and now?"

Sasha and Connie exchanged a glance.

"Yeah, but coincidences happen sometimes, don't they?" Sasha asked.

"Sometimes. Not like this." Levi tapped the steering wheel again. "Hoover also let slip that Braun's family was massacred by Tybur because they were looking for a potential slayer. They turned him, but never found the girl they were looking for."

Jean slumped against his seat with a groan. He raised a hand to briefly rub the bridge of his nose before muttering, "You can't be saying what I think you are."

Levi nodded. "If we find Braun, we'll find the slayer."

*

Everything hurt. The pain intertwined itself with a deep, aching exhaustion that had long since settled into her bones and was loath to let go. It reached deep into her core with insidious, writhing fingers, draining her of energy and willpower alike as it trapped her in an endless sleep.

And yet she did not rest. Rest would imply some measure of obliviousness, the ability to turn away from the world around her and allow herself to forget about everything that held her down. That was not possible. She instead found herself suspended on the very edge of consciousness, unable to move and too exhausted to truly think, but also unable to truly turn away.

She heard everything that went on around her. Every footstep, every shuffle as the nurses moved things around, every word from each fleeting visitor. Every story. Every bit of painful news. It all collected in her mind, waiting for the time when she could finally do something about it. What resulted was a truly torturous feeling of helplessness.

Yet as time passed, something began to change. The aches of her body became a little worse. When a needle pushed under her skin, she felt a pinch.

Mikasa held her hand, and she felt the warmth of her touch.

There was nothing in particular that told her it was time. There was no one in her room and she hadn't been entertaining any wild thoughts. But as a phantom ache passed through her stomach, she found herself seized by restlessness, the desire to move, to break out of this limbo that she was caught in.

So she tried. Her eyelids felt as if they were weighed down by bricks, yet she strained and pushed with all her might, desperate to see something, to do something. In the moment, it felt like the hardest thing she had ever tried to do. But it was do or die, and she wasn’t ready to die, even if it was what she deserved.

Annie opened her eyes.

Chapter Text

A flurry of doctors descended upon Annie the instant she opened her eyes. With them came a barrage of questions. She didn't answer any of them, and soon enough they stopped asking.

Everything was a chaotic blur of motion. Countless monitors were checked and IVs changed. More than one injection went into her arm. Annie numbly obeyed instructions given to her to the best of her ability. They did not ask for much of her in terms of movement - likely because she wasn't capable of much at the moment. Or was she? It was a question that felt like it should be burning at the front of her mind, yet she couldn't bring herself to pay it much mind right now. She couldn't bring herself to think too heavily about anything. She didn't know if it was drugs or exhaustion, but now that she was awake, the world had settled into a confusing, terrifying blur that rendered her unable to do anything but lay back and wait.

Through the bleariness, a question floated up to the surface of her mind.

What was she waiting for? What would happen to her now that she had woken up? She wanted to say that she had no idea, but the truth was, she thought she might have had some inkling. There was a ridiculous, sentimental, impossible notion dancing just at the edges of her mind, terrifying as it was tantalizing.

"I'm here," she had said.

Annie's throat was dry as she swallowed. She briefly eyed the cluster of doctors muttering by the foot of her bed, considered asking for water, but the haze in her head, growing heavier by the second, was already dense enough to make it feel like more effort than it was worth. That was a new conundrum in and of itself. Sleeping was an utterly revolting concept, but she knew that fighting to stay awake would only make her grow more exhausted. The longer she was exhausted, the longer she would be helpless. Helpless to do anything but sit and wait for her, entirely dependent on her impossible mercy.

She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't.

Reluctantly, Annie turned her head to the side, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to drift away.

*

Annie's mind slowly rose out of the haze of sleep. It took her a moment to realize that she was no longer asleep, but caught in the limbo between slumber and wakefulness. Now that she knew that she could open her eyes, she felt no real urge to do so. The exhaustion that weighed down on her eyelids was simply too heavy. Her issue was more than simple tiredness though - she wasn't ready for people to know that she was awake. The moment someone noticed that her eyes were open, she would face the questions of fussing of doctors.

Right now, it felt like too much.

Everything felt like too much. She wanted to get up and walk out of her hospital bed, but doing so would mean facing the reality that was laid out before her. It would mean facing her past and trying to come to terms with the unknown that was her future. That she might actually have a future. Or maybe not. There were just so many unknowns, so many factors, and she didn't want to face it.

But she had to. She had to, because even though she was exhausted, even though she didn't know what she would do when she opened her eyes for keeps, she couldn't stand to lay in bed for much longer. That meant that she had to come up with a plan. Before she could do that though, she needed to get ahold of her situation. She hadn't been able to do anything but think this whole time, but... it wasn't enough. She had to go through it one more time.

"I have a lot to tell you," Mikasa had said. That hadn't been a lie.

Laying in her hospital bed, eyes closed to feign the illusion of sleep, Annie thought back to what she had heard while trapped in the clutches of something closer to purgatory than slumber.

"The Watcher's Council put me through a Cruciamentum," Mikasa had whispered.

The pained tremor in her voice had told Annie that whatever she was about to say wasn't going to be easy for her, that whatever she had gone through had been nothing short of torturous. Of course it had been - Tybur had told her all about the sadistic test that the Council put their slayers through after they turned eighteen. She would have told her that if she had been able to. But she had been unable to do anything but listen, and so Mikasa had continued.

"It was a test. They took my powers and captured me after the last time I visited you. My opponent... Annie, I had to fight Bertolt."

The moment she said those words, Annie felt like her throat should have been constricting. Her heart should have been beating faster. She wouldn't dare let herself cry, but her eyes should have at least been stinging anyway. Yet there was absolutely no response from her body, nothing but the screams in her mind, the hurt, the dread, all entwined with a terrible resignation. If Mikasa was there to talk to her, if it had been a Cruciamentum, then she already knew what had happened to Bertolt.

Mikasa kept talking anyway.

“We were being recorded, but he figured out how to knock the power out. We talked. He told me about Tybur. What your life was like growing up. How they treated you.”

What exactly did that mean? There was so much to be said - surely Bertolt couldn’t have shared everything . If she could have, she would have demanded that she elaborate. As it was, she hadn’t allowed herself to wonder. Trapped in her hospital bed, looking back at her past, at the mistakes that had led her there, burned like nothing else. If she had allowed herself to wander down that path right then, she’d feared that the grief might swallow her whole. She couldn’t allow that to happen when her fellow slayer was about to tell her about how one of her only companions had met his fate. 

"We made a deal. He let me kill him, and in return, I promised that I'd give you another chance."

Annie hadn't known what to think or feel at those words, only that they hurt. Even thinking back on it now, she felt her heart break in a way that she had never expected.

Bertolt may have been one of her only companions, but he was also a vampire. Even the most mild-mannered and nonaggressive of vampires could not change their natures. He wasn't supposed to be capable of selflessness, wasn't supposed to be able to truly care. Perhaps he was more fond of her than he was of other people, but it had to be limited and self-serving in nature. She was a tool to him, a convenient ally to have on his side. Annie had long accepted this and never truly let herself forget it.

Except Bertolt had been there to catch her when she fell. He had taken her to the hospital when Tybur would have wanted him to take the opportunity to go after Mikasa. It had already left her wondering if she had undervalued him. To hear Mikasa tell her tale, that Bertolt had willingly given his life in a bargain for her safety... Annie had wanted to scream. To protest. To demand that Mikasa elaborate until she found a hole in her story, something to tell her that her fellow slayer had gotten it wrong, that Annie hadn't been so terribly wrong in her assessment of her comrade.

After the initial shock wore off, she had wanted to cry.

But she hadn't been able to move a muscle.

Mikasa had continued on. Had she truly believed that she was listening, or had she just needed to get the words out? Annie didn't have any idea, and for all that she had come to appreciate her visits while she was stuck in her limbo, she had been unable to find any true comfort on that particular day.

"If Tybur comes for you, I'll protect you. I promise."

Annie hadn't believed her at the time. She had been proven wrong once again, for it wasn't long after that visit that Lara came to finish what Mikasa had started. Lara came, and Mikasa had been there to fend her off. She turned down a deal that could have freed her from Tybur's wrath and fought the ancient vampire rather than let her kill Annie. Killed her, if she was to be believed.

No, there could be no doubting Mikasa in that regard. She would be dead by now if she hadn't killed Lara. Mikasa had fought one of the demons that had dominated Annie's life and she had won. After everything that Annie had done, Mikasa had protected her. She had protected her and...

"I don't forgive you. But if you wake up, I'll be here. You don't need to be scared, Annie."

How funny, that she would have told her not to be scared while saying one of the most terrifying things possible. Did she really expect her to believe her words? Did she really think that she could?

Logically, Annie was aware that she probably should. Mikasa's claims were supported by her actions. It wouldn't make sense for her to go so far to protect her only to turn around and kill her when she woke up.

But humans were not logical beings. They were creatures made of messy emotions and dangerous impulses, and Annie had wronged Mikasa terribly. It was one thing to say that she would give her a second chance, but to actually go through with it? To look at the girl who had kissed her and stabbed her within the same week and reach out a hand? To treat her like anything but the monster that she was? Unthinkable. She should stab her in the heart the second she saw her eyes open. Annie wouldn't even be able to blame her if she did.

Killing her would be an easy way out though. There were other options too, crueler options. Choices that Mikasa could make while still technically honoring her deal with Bertolt. It probably wouldn't be too hard for her and Smith to find evidence of her crimes and lock her up for the rest of her days. Worse yet, they could hand her over to the watcher's council itself, let them try to turn her into their tool, then break her when she refused to bend. Perhaps that was another path that would lead to her death. Or maybe the council would have some other sort of solution, something that would leave her wishing that she had never awoken from her coma.

Annie couldn't roll over and let that happen. After all, Bertolt had done the impossible for her. He chose her over Tybur. He had defied his nature and surrendered any chance of surviving the Cruciamentum in order to make a deal with Mikasa. A terrible decision - didn't he see that it was all for nothing? That Mikasa was human, all messy emotions, with a moral code and breakable heart that wouldn't allow her to give someone like Annie a second chance? Or had he hoped that his sacrifice would somehow override it?

She couldn't stay and wait for Mikasa, but she also didn't know where she would go. After her failure, Reiner's breakdown, Bertolt's demise, and Mikasa's slaying of Lara, she couldn't possibly go back to Tybur. She could run wherever she wanted, but she would never be able to go home. It made her heart hurt in a way that she knew it probably shouldn't. Tybur had been a sorry excuse for a home. Yet she couldn't help it. They had been all she had after her father's death. Maybe not the organization itself, but the group that she had worked with. They were her home.

And now they were all gone.

Marcel had been unusually kind for a vampire, always looking out for the rest of the group, and his need to protect his comrades had seen him meet his end at the hands of a slayer.

Porco, vulnerably human in a group of monsters, had fallen apart in the wake of his undead brother's death, had disappeared soon after. Then she had found him again in the picture of a vengeance demon, his humanity left behind with his past. Maybe Annie could find him, but she doubted that he would want to see her.

Pieck was a little lacking as a witch, but she had been a good friend. A good friend who had disappeared along with Porco. His survival almost made her want to think that she may still be alive, but it was a small miracle that even one of them had gotten out alive. She wouldn't allow herself to hope. Besides, even if Pieck was alive, that would mean that she had abandoned Annie to Tybur. The girl who was once her friend was lost to her either way.

Reiner had abandoned her, in a way. The vampire she had seen just before she went to fight Mikasa was nothing like the cruel bastard she had gotten to know over the years. Right when she had dedicated herself to becoming the monster that he wanted her to be, when she needed another killer on her side, he had fallen apart. Now, if Mikasa's claim that Ymir had the Gem of Amara was true, he was probably dead as well. Annie supposed that she should be fine with that. She didn't want to see Reiner again - the monster that she had known or the hypocritical wreck who had let her down. But he was familiar, and some irrational part of her mourned the loss of that familiarity.

Bertolt... Bertolt was a fool. He was a fool who had done the impossible and defied his nature to try and get her a second chance. He may have made a terrible mistake, but she still owed it to him to at least try to get out of this mess.

That meant that she had to get out of the hospital fast. Even if they hadn't told anyone that she was awake yet, she had no doubt that word would get out soon, and then it would only be a matter of time until she was facing down Mikasa. She didn't have a plan yet, but that was fine. She would figure something out once she got moving. Broken and exhausted though she may have been, she was still the slayer. That would be enough to allow her to escape the hospital and find a way out of Paradis. It had to be.

But she had to get out now.

Her mind made up, Annie opened her eyes and got to work.

*

Jean walked several paces behind Sasha, Connie, and Levi, trying to get ahold of his feelings and failing miserably. His gaze flickered between the stake in his hand and the rows of gravestones that they slowly walked by.

It was a quiet night. The crystal wand sticking out of a pocket in his backpack glowed just as brightly as the flashlight in Sasha's hand. They were less than a mile away from where he and Levi had stopped the day before and well within the three-mile radius of the slayer. Yet rather than looking for her directly, they were searching for a cold-blooded murderer.

His frown, a fixture on his face ever since Levi had announced his plan, had become more prominent since they had reached the graveyard. They hadn't even been searching for five minutes yet, but at this rate, he couldn't help but feel like a scowl was going to etch itself onto his features permanently. It wasn't enough to make him try to stop. Nothing could ease the frown from his face right now.

The sound of unintelligible muttering drew his attention to Sasha and Connie. She was leaning forward and whispering something in his ear. He glanced over his shoulder at Jean, a frown on his face, before nodding. Sasha nodded in return before hurrying over to Levi, whispering something to him, and falling back to walk beside Jean.

Having fun talking about me? an imbittered part of him wanted to ask. Instead, he just snorted and looked away.

"How are you holding up?" Sasha asked, voice hesitant.

Jean's mouth twitched. His lips twitched, his frown threatening to go a little deeper. Odd. He'd thought it was already at a point where that wasn't possible. "Why would you phrase it like that?" he asked, turning to look at her.

Sasha shrugged, raising one hand to fiddle with the bow slung over her shoulder. "I mean, this isn't easy for you, is it?"

Jean swallowed and looked away again. No, it wasn't easy for him. If they actually found Reiner, if they were going to treat him like anything other than an incredibly dangerous enemy who had already betrayed them once-

No, that was unfair. Even if Connie was being ridiculously soft for someone who had nearly been murdered, he trusted that Levi hadn't forgotten what Reiner had done or was capable of. He didn't strike him as nearly sentimental or forgiving enough for that, regardless of if Reiner had a soul. Levi was the sort of demon hunter who would put him down unless he had a damn good reason not to. He wouldn't seek him out with the intent to talk unless they all had a reason. If he wanted to work with him, it was because he thought that they would gain a significant strategic advantage by doing so. It was for the greater good of the slayer. The greater good of the slayer meant the greater good of the world. That was more important than Jean's feelings and he knew it.

That didn't make it any easier.

For a moment, he considered saying all of that to Sasha. He dismissed the prospect almost immediately. Tonight had the potential to be extremely emotionally draining, if not outright terrifying. He didn't want to wear himself out right away. Instead, he wearily looked back at Sasha and sighed.

"No," he said, quick and simple. "It isn't. What about you?"

"What about me?" Sasha asked, dropping her hand back down to her side.

"What do you think of all this?" he clarified.

"I think..." Sasha glanced around the graveyard, frowning. "This is a pretty sucky way to spend Christmas Eve. But... it shouldn't take us too long to find Reiner, should it? I mean. The graveyard's big, but it's not that big. And if Levi's right and he's hunting demons to protect the slayer, and this is the closest graveyard to her, it makes sense for him to be here. So... maybe we'll be able to go back to the motel before very long?"

Jean shot Sasha a flat look. "You know that isn't what I meant," he said.

"I know," Sasha replied. "But I... don't really know what I think about everything else, so that's what I want to focus on." She paused, kicking at the patch of ground before her. "I mean, Levi knows what he's doing. He's a professional."

Jean sighed and glanced up at the night sky. In this miserable, run-down graveyard in a ramshackle neighborhood on the edges of Jacksonville, the stars were a little more visible than they were in Paradis. "He is, but his hunch is still a hunch," he pointed out. "Even if that bastard shows up, there are still hours until sunrise. And it probably won't go quickly. So many things could go wrong..."

He glanced down at the stake in his hand and ran a finger over the wood. Would he be prepared if something went wrong?

"I don't think anything's going to go wrong," Sasha said after a moment. "Not with Reiner, anyway."

Jean looked up to meet Sasha's gaze. She stammered for a moment before looking back down as she said, "It doesn't change what he did, and I'm not saying that I trust him, but... he really did seem different."

"Different," Jean muttered, voice flat.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not much to go off of, but... I don't think he'd try to hurt us," she whispered.

The snap of Marco's neck resonated in Jean's ears. "We can still talk this out," he had cried.

"He's already hurt us," Jean muttered.

Sasha's head ducked a little lower. "Yeah, he has. But if Levi's right, this is bigger than just us now."

For the first time that night, Jean smiled. It was more bitter and painful than his frown had ever been. "Why do you think I'm here?"

Sasha returned his gaze with a sad smile of her own. When she stepped forward to walk with Levi and Connie again, Jean hesitated for only a moment before following her. Connie didn't grin at him, but he did step over to pat him on the shoulder. Jean shot him an unimpressed look, but didn't rebuff the act of affection.

They walked in silence for what felt like ten minutes. He didn't see or hear what made Levi go stiff, nor did he have time to react before the demon hunter snatched the flashlight out of Sasha's hands. "Follow me," he commanded before breaking off in a sprint.

Following Levi was easier said than done. The man was like a rabbit as he took off across the graveyard, Sasha hardly any better. Jean got the distinct impression that he and Connie would have been left in the dust if they had gone much further. However, just before the pair of them could be reduced to heaving messes, Levi skidded to a halt beside a decrepit mausoleum.

A few paces away, eyes wide and started, Reiner stood illuminated by his flashlight.

"Braun," Levi greeted. "We need to talk."

Chapter Text

Reiner liked to check twice when he thought he heard something. His tendency to occasionally hear things hadn’t exactly gotten better since that night at Connie’s house. However, after ten minutes of stepping carefully and taking note of every passing sound, he was certain.

There were two sets of footsteps following him.

It wasn’t just the footsteps. Every once in a while, he would catch part of a muffled whisper, or a breath that came just a little too loudly. They were being quiet alright, but they still weren’t as stealthy as they thought they were. It wouldn’t be enough to save them in case of an emergency. 

“How long are you going to let them keep it up?” Eren asked, the faintest hint of amusement finding its way onto his distant expression as he peered into the graveyard’s darkness.

Reiner sighed. He should have already called them out and escorted them back home. Even if he wasn't entirely certain at first, he should have put a stop to their antics the instant that he became more than a little suspicious that he wasn't alone. His only reason for not having done so already was a selfish one. They would be disappointed when they realized that he had heard them so easily, and even moreso when he told them that they couldn't follow him. He would have to scold them while they looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, and if he wanted to make sure that they actually got the point, he wouldn't be able to assure them that it was okay or he wasn't upset.

He could do that, or he could pretend that he hadn’t heard and let them have a little fun.

No, he thought, it's too dangerous. Just because he hadn't run into anything yet didn't mean that he wouldn't encounter a threat later. He would probably be able to handle whatever appeared before it could pose any real danger to them, but there was a chance that it would be too much.

There was a chance that they would run into him.

Reiner met Eren's gaze for a brief moment. Not long enough for the children to notice, for one of the last things he needed was for them to discover how unstable he truly was, but enough to satisfy the gnawing urge to acknowledge the hallucination. With that, he came to an abrupt stop a few paces away from a small, crumbling mausoleum, and focused.

A stick snapped sharply a few paces behind him. It was followed by the soft sound of a few shuffling footsteps - about as many as would be required to duck behind a gravestone, he assumed. Then came a sharp, scolding whisper, too faint for him to make out the words, but infinitely familiar in sound and cadence. It was returned by a low, soft murmur, bashful and ashamed.

Of course it was those two. Reiner hadn't considered otherwise for even a second.

He was about to turn around when Eren muttered, "Wait."

Reiner caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck already rising, he turned around to get a better look at it. He was greeted by the unmistakable beam of a flashlight, currently on the other side of the graveyard, but rapidly growing closer.

The good news was that most demons didn't use flashlights. He wouldn't use a flashlight. However, the expectant look on Eren's face as the hallucination stared at the approaching figures created a pit of dread deep in his stomach. It made him hesitant, the exhaustion deep in his bones crying out and telling him to avoid whatever might be coming, to stay out of everything and keep as far away from the rest of the world as he could. He couldn't let that happen though, not with them here. Reiner took in a deep breath, smelling the air-

- and immediately bit back a curse.

If it were just him, he would have run. Instead, he took a few steps closer to the mausoleum, but otherwise forced himself to stand his ground. Soon enough, they were too close, the person in the lead moving too fast for him to run away even if he tried. And then the light was shining directly on him.

The light would have been blinding for a human. If it were sunlight, it would have been even worse. But he was no human and a flashlight was far from the sun, so he was able to make out the people behind it with ease.

Connie was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

(Alive, alive, was still alive. He hadn't killed him. He hadn't though. But he almost had, and that was unforgivable. Monstrous. Evil. So why had he looked at him the way he had back when they'd met before? Why wasn't he looking at him with hatred now? He was alive but he almost hadn't been, he'd almost turned him into something worse than dead, he should have left when he told him and been happy to never see him again. Unless he was there to kill him. Except he probably wasn't - it didn't match with how he had acted before, which didn't match with how he should act - but he should -)

Reiner looked over at Sasha. She looked unsure, caught somewhere between frightened, confused, and hopeful.

(She didn't look as scared as she had last time. That was bad. Not because he wanted her to be scared, because he wanted to be scary, but scared and hateful was a good reaction. The right reaction. The deserved reaction. It was the reaction that he expected from them, the reaction that he knew how to handle. Anything else was - he didn't know what it was. Didn't know how to process it, only that it tore and grated and shouldn'tshouldn't shouldn't be.)

His eyes darted to the person at the back of the group, staring at him with a scowl on his face and a stake gripped tightly in his hand. Jean. There was the hatred he was looking for.

(Screaming, begging - "Why can't you be good?" "You'll regret this, Reiner." "We haven't talked this out yet!" the snap of a neck beneath his hands.

The hatred in his eyes wasn't enough. Not from Jean, not after what he had done. The stake in his hand - that might be enough. It was the most he could do, anyway. It would be right, it would be just, it would grant vengeance and fulfill the debt he'd incurred and finally end it-

- but he couldn't. Not here, not now. Not in front of the children.)

Reiner wrenched his gaze over to Levi. He couldn’t see any weapons on him, but he wasn’t about to take that to mean that there weren’t any on his person. The most dangerous of the group by far, a man who could bring him down with ease, he could at least bring himself to look at him, whereas he could hardly bear to glance at the others.

Maybe the danger was why it didn't hurt as much to look at him.

"Braun," the hunter said. "We need to talk."

(They had to talk. Of course they had to talk. More than talk, probably. Because Connie didn't seem like he wanted to kill him, but maybe this man had been able to talk some sense into him. After all, Annie had killed his friends, hadn't she? And he had been the one to push her to do so. Levi probably didn't know that - unless he did - but he probably didn't - but it didn't matter anyway. The blood was on his hands anyway. He had every right to take his life. Except he couldn't let that happen, not here, not now, not with the kids and the threat in the air and devastation on the horizon. Someday, maybe, if the stars aligned and he survived the next few months to meet the hunter again and all was as close to well and just as it could be, then all could be stakes and blood and dust and it could all be over, but-

Not now. He had to think of a plan, had to come up with something to do, had to-)

"Reiner," Eren prompted.

"Right," Reiner murmured, shaking his head slightly. Just how many precious seconds had ticked by while he stood there frozen? There was a slight furrow to Levi's brows now, the corners of his lips pulling faintly downward.

Reiner heard a quiet shuffling from a little ways behind him and to the right. Probably coming from behind a gravestone. He tried to look casual as he stepped over to stand in front of it.

The movement got an instant reaction out of the group. Connie took half a step forward. Jean moved in time with him, gritting his jaw as his grip on his stake visibly tightened. Sasha's hand darted up, half of the way to grabbing at the bow attached to her back. Even Eren frowned faintly at the space behind Reiner's back.

Levi frowned a little harder.

"You want to talk?" Reiner asked. As he spoke, he tried to keep his voice level. Unreadable. Stable.

"That's what I said." Levi tilted his head to the side and allowed his hand to slide down toward a pocket in his pants. "Unless you'd prefer the alternative?"

"That was the wrong thing to say," Eren muttered.

Reiner felt his heart begin to sink with the weight of dread and inevitability. No. No, no, no.

He started to take a slow step backward, only for Falco's voice to cry out, "Gabi!"

Both of them were too little, too late. Gabi came barreling out of her hiding spot to stand in front of Reiner, Falco standing close behind her. However, where he hovered a foot or so to the side, awkwardly pointing a dagger with a blade half the length of his arm at Levi, Gabi brandished its twin with the ferocity of someone who expected to use it. "Back off!" she snarled.

"Gabi!" Reiner exclaimed, bending down to grab hold of her upper arm and move her behind him. "You can't be out here!"

"Holy shit," Connie whispered.

"You shouldn't be out here!" Gabi cried, wrenching her arm out of his grasp; far easier than any twelve-year-old girl should have been able to pull away from a vampire. Reiner's heart sank a little further as he dared a glance up at Levi. The hunter met his eyes with an expression that spoke of realization.

Fuck.

"Reiner, they're hunters," Gabi continued, not daring to take her eyes off the people she perceived as the enemy. "They could be here to-"

"-I know who they are," Reiner interrupted, forcing himself to look away from Levi, from the people he'd hurt and betrayed. They were important, incredibly so, but not like her or the boy who'd charged into danger alongside her. Whatever they wanted would have to wait for now - for a while - for however long it took to get the children out and away and safe. For the sake of that goal, he forced himself to tell a lie. "I - I know what I'm doing. You don't need to worry, and you shouldn't have been following me. Either of you."

He looked at Falco. The boy faltered for a moment, but ultimately tilted his chin up and met Reiner's gaze head-on. "I couldn't let her go alone," he said.

Falco's devotion to Gabi, his desire to protect her and willingness to put himself in danger to do so, was something that Reiner couldn't help but be grateful for. He knew that he shouldn't be, that Falco was a child himself. In a better, kinder world, he would be far away from the horrors that the cousins had long since been submerged in. Reiner should want the boy to distance himself from her, for his own sake. But he was a truly wretched individual, and as such, he couldn't help but be comforted by the knowledge that even if he wasn't around, Gabi would have someone in her corner when she needed it.

When she needed it. When the unavoidable disasters set in, when she couldn't escape from tragedy by being smart or careful. Not someone to enable and follow her when she decided to go running after completely avoidable danger.

"You should have told someone what she was planning," Reiner scolded.

"I told him to stay behind," Gabi protested at the same time.

Somehow, Reiner's frown deepened. "Coming out here alone isn't any better," he said, turning his attention back to her. "Gabi. Look at me."

Gabi shifted, but kept her gaze locked on the hunters. Reiner allowed himself to look at them himself for a moment. Sasha and Connie were staring at him like he'd grown a second head. Jean was switching between looking at him, Gabi, and Falco, a look of bewildered apprehension on his face. Meanwhile, Levi's attention had not faltered from Gabi.

He had to get her out of this situation.

"Gabi," Reiner repeated.

"You know you probably aren't going to get through to her," Eren remarked. "She's too young and inexperienced."

Reiner ignored him and set a careful hand on Gabi's shoulder. She finally turned around to look at him, eyes blazing unapologetically. He met it with an unwavering gaze - because he couldn't let himself waver, not now, not with her, not when she was acting like this - and said, "We aren't keeping you cooped up for fun. You need to stay at the house because it isn't safe for you to leave."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Falco look down at his feet and take a shuffling step closer. Meanwhile, Gabi shifted, the stubborn line of her lips faltering ever so slightly. However, her voice was as brash as ever when she argued, "It isn't safe for you. "

"I can take care of myself," Reiner said.

"But so can-"

"- No," Reiner interrupted. He didn't want to hear that from her, not when she would burn her life out so quickly if given even the slightest encouragement, regardless of how strong she was. More importantly, he didn't want them to hear the argument that she had doubtlessly been about to make.

Too bad that he was already too late in that regard.

"Those are the kids from yesterday," Jean hissed, voice low, but not quite quiet enough to escape Reiner's hearing. The words made his stomach lurch again. Pieck had told him about their unexpected visitors the day before. He hadn't been foolish enough to hope that they were after anything other than the slayer, but he had wanted to believe that it would take them longer to find them. That his past and present wouldn't collide quite so soon, that neither would be pulled into the other's mess.

Maybe it wasn't too late to avoid that. Maybe, maybe-

"That's not all she is," Levi said. Reiner snapped his head up to meet his gaze before rising back up to his feet. He slowly stepped forward, in front of Gabi, while Falco ran over to stand by her side.

Levi sighed heavily.

"Wait," Jean began, voice uneasy. "You can't seriously be saying-"

"She's the slayer," Levi confirmed.

"What!?" Sasha cried, voice high-pitched and stressed. "But she's just a kid!"

If Reiner's heart could beat, he was sure it would be thundering.

He heard the sound of shuffling feet behind him - Gabi moving to take a step forward. Without daring to take his eyes off the gobsmacked group before him, he subtly moved his leg to block her. The motion was followed by the faint sound of rustling fabric and an agitated hiss from Gabi. This time, he almost did glance behind him, but caught himself at the last second.

(They knew, and that meant Gabi was in danger, and that meant he couldn't look away for even a second. Something could happen, she could get hurt, she could die, and if she died, if she died- he was already a monster and a failure both, but if she died, it all would have been for nothing. If she went down the path he had tried so desperately to keep her from, he wouldn't be able to...

No. He already couldn't stand to live with himself. If anything happened to any of the children, it would just mean that he should have removed himself from the world the second he became truly aware of what he had become.)

Eren stepped a little closer to Reiner, his gaze locked on the children. "You don't have to fret over her so much," he said. "Falco will protect her. He always does."

Falco is also a child, he wanted to say, as if he didn't trust him to look out for her anyway. As if he wasn't putting a weight on him that no child should have to bear. He glanced briefly over at Eren-

(Don't look away!)

- and sharply yanked his gaze back over to Levi.

Reiner had been standing alone for too long. The biggest threat had remained relatively unruffled, but Jean, Sasha, and Connie all looked like they were beginning to fight through their initial shock. That meant that they would act soon. He had to make sure that she moved first.

"She is a child," he said, his voice coming out as something more stable than anything that they would have heard from him since before- since he was still what he used to be. "That's why you should-"

"Reiner!" a new voice cut through the air. Pieck.

He still didn't let himself look away, but he didn't have to. Everyone looked to the side, toward the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Hey!" Jean exclaimed. "You're-"

"Kirstein," Levi muttered.

Jean fell quiet.

"Shit," Gabi whispered, as if Reiner catching her sneaking out didn't properly count as being in trouble.

The footsteps sped up. Before he knew it, Pieck was standing by his side, clutching at his upper arm. "Is everyone okay?" she asked, eyes flickering between him, the children behind him, and Levi and his group.

He didn't know what exactly it was that made the dread set in. Maybe it was the way Pieck's fingers dug tightly into his skin. Maybe it was because she didn't bother scolding the children even though he knew that she would have been extremely worried about them. Maybe it was barely-restrained fear in her voice. Most likely, it was all three.

Reiner stared at Levi for a second more, weighed the risks, and turned to face Pieck.

"Everyone's fine," he said, his earlier composure giving in to something tight with apprehension. "Is-"

"Yes," she interrupted, voice fast and urgent.

"Wait," Falco said, voice wavering. "You don't mean - he's coming?"

"Who's he?" Connie asked.

"Let him!" Gabi snapped, taking a step back and tightening her grip on her knife. "I can-"

"No!" Reiner explained. "We need to get out of here now. "

"There might not be time," Pieck said, her voice little more than a whisper.

Reiner's heart couldn't beat, but it certainly felt like it was sinking.

He looked away from Pieck and back at the others. Levi was still holding his flashlight with one hand, but had drawn a dagger out of his pocket with the other. His eyes had gone dark, but he wasn't looking at Reiner with anything akin to bloodlust. Sasha had taken the bow off her back and was shakily preparing an arrow. Connie had moved closer to Jean and was rifling through the backpack that he had been wearing. None of them would stand a chance against what was coming.

But then again, neither did he.

Reiner looked at Gabi and Falco. He had done so much (unforgivable, irredeemable) to keep her out of Tybur's hands in part because he hadn't trusted the council with her either. Regardless of Levi's attitude, with his connections, there was a real chance that letting her near him would be akin to handing her directly to the council. But if he really was about to show up, what choice did he have?

"You can trust them," Eren said.

No, he couldn't.

But he had to make sure the children got out alive.

He opened his mouth-

-and shut it when he saw movement in the corner of his eyes. Reiner rushed forward to stand in front of everyone as a short, unassuming, mustachioed man clad in plaid approached them from the side. He was entirely unaffected by his glare, instead shooting the group a pleasant smile. "Good evening, everyone," Rod said.

In the next instant, several things happened at once.

Eren's expression shifted into a venomous glare, aimed squarely at Rod.

Connie whispered, "You're scared of this dude?"

Levi stepped forward to stand a pace behind Reiner and aimed his flashlight squarely at the newcomer.

Pieck moved to grab Falco and Gabi's hand.

Gabi spat, "You!" before wrenching her hand out of Pieck's grip and charging at Rod.

Reiner was faster. He lurched in front of his cousin, gently shoved her back at one hand, and charged at Rod, not because it was in any way a good idea, but so that she couldn't. As he ran, he was vaguely aware of the light behind him dropping to the ground. It was followed by a noise of protest from Gabi, although he couldn't focus enough to make out exactly what she was saying or any response she might have received.

Then, when he was inches away from him, Rod whipped his arm out and grabbed Reiner by the throat. His fingers dug tightly into his skin as he lifted him off the ground. Someone shouted in the background - maybe more than one someone. He couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying as he clawed futilely at his opponent's arm. The monster paused for just long enough to give him a disappointed frown before flinging him to the side.

Reiner's head slammed against a grave, breaking it and filling his mouth with the taste of copper. Shards of splinted stone bit into his face as the momentum sent him rolling over the broken stone. He slammed a hand against the ground in an attempt to stop himself. A jolt of pain raced through his hand, but he stopped rolling.

Ignoring the ache resonating through his back and the way the world spun, he forced himself up onto unsteady feet and looked over to Levi. The demon hunter had positioned himself slightly in front of Gabi and dropped the flashlight in order to tightly hold onto her shoulder. His flinty eyes were locked directly onto Rod. Pieck was glancing anxiously between Reiner and Rod as she held onto Falco's wrist, the boy staring at Reiner with wide, terrified eyes. Jean was pointing his stake at Rod. Sasha had her bow aimed squarely at him, but kept glancing at Reiner with a sort of horrified awe. And Connie - Connie was slowly inching toward him.

Reiner shook his head. A bead of blood trickled past his lips. He wiped it away before saying, voice hoarse and throat aching, "Go. Take the kids and get out of here."

Pieck met his gaze, unsure. He nodded, and after a moment, she nodded back.

"That's quite rude, Reiner," Rod said, breaking the moment. "I'm not here to fight."

Levi snorted. "You have an odd way of showing it."

"He's lying," Reiner said.

"What do I have to gain by lying?" Rod asked, spreading his hands placatingly. "I've only ever told you the truth. You're the ones who don't like to hear it."

Meanwhile, Eren had begun walking over to Reiner. He stopped beside him and frowned heavily at the wound on the side of his head. "You're right not to trust him, but I don't think he's lying now," he said. His eyes flickered over to Rod. "Dirty coward would rather scare you off so he doesn't have to put up a fight."

So he didn't have to put up a fight. As if they were able to give him much of a fight. Reiner glanced back at the others, expression trying to convey that they had to leave now.

Levi met his eyes for a heartbeat. He then glanced at Rod, then Gabi, Falco, his team, and the area around them, before finally looking back at Reiner and shaking his head ever so slightly.

Meanwhile, Eren said, "It's too late to run anyway. You'd only be able to hold him off for a few minutes at best."

Reiner's stomach twisted and the back of his throat burned as the words set in. Except he wouldn't let them set in, because that wasn't true; it couldn't be true. It wasn't going to end here, not like this, with Gabi and Falco dying and Pieck torn, destroyed and everyone else dragged down because they didn't leave well enough alone when he tried to warn them and him utterly useless. There was something he could do. There had to be something he could do. This wasn't - it wasn't - he couldn't -

"Relax. I told you, he's not lying this time," Eren muttered.

Levi moved as if to take a step forward, but glanced down at Gabi, who was fluctuating between glaring daggers at Rod and shooting worried glances at Reiner, and stopped himself at the last second. "What truth is that?" he asked.

Rod smiled. "I think it's best if we start out with some introductions, don't you? My name is Rod, and I'm what you'd call a god."

“What?” Sasha whispered.

“He’s - he’s gotta be kidding, right?” Jean hissed. He glanced at Pieck, who shook her head, expression dark. 

"Right." Levi jerked his head sharply to the side. "Braun. Get over here."

Reiner hesitated, glanced at Rod, and slowly shuffled over to Levi, Eren following after him. Once he was within a few feet of him, Gabi broke free of his grasp and raced over to his side.

"Your head!" she hissed, grabbing onto his hand.

"It's fine," he said.

"Doesn't look like it," Connie murmured, eyes glued to Reiner when he should have been paying attention to the real threat.

Reiner slowly shook his head. He raised a hand to tenderly brush his fingers against where his head had hit the gravestone. "It's-" A sharp, aching sting ran through his head the second his fingers made contact. He pulled his hand away and found it covered in blood. (Bleeding, screaming, tearing, crushing, crying, dying.)

"It isn't important right now," he finished, wiping the blood off on his pants. One of the few good things that could be said about him was that he was durable. If a head wound was all that it took to finish him off, he wouldn't have survived Tybur, let alone Rod.

For his part, Rod was watching them in silence, his expression the picture of patience. The sight made Reiner carefully remove his hand from Gabi's and step in front of her once again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed that Jean had moved to stand by Pieck, on Falco's other side, while Sasha was slowly inching closer to Connie. Her eyes spoke of terror, but her hands were a little steadier than they were when she had faced him at the tiki bar.

Levi hadn't moved a muscle. Once everyone had more or less stilled once more, he asked, "Are you going to elaborate on that?"

"I just wanted to give you a moment to absorb the information. I know it can be a bit of a shock," Rod said.

"A shock," Jean muttered, voice caught somewhere between numb and disbelieving. "You calling yourself God is a shock."

"He isn't God," Pieck said, voice level. "He's a god. A hell god, to be exact."

Connie chuckled, high-pitched and nervous. "I don't see how that's any better."

" I don't see how it's any less," Rod remarked. "It really is amazing how easily you can shrug off the presence of divinity, Miss Finger."

Reiner reluctantly glanced away from Rod and toward Pieck. One of the most controlled people he'd ever met, she was still doing a good job at maintaining her expression, but he thought he could see a hint of pain and resentment beginning to peek through. (Just like when he had-) That wasn't a good sign. Worse, he wasn't the only one who had noticed. Falco was looking up at her with blatant worry in his eyes, and Gabi had begun glancing between him and the two of them. Even Eren was staring at her.

"Pieck," Reiner murmured.

Pieck plastered a smile across her face. "It's okay, Reiner. Falco. Gabi." she said with a burst of sudden cheer. "I know better than to let myself be bothered by him."

Rod sighed. Reiner looked back in time to see him shaking his head. "I'm not trying to bother you. All I'm asking you to do is step out of the way."

"This isn't telling me anything," Levi interrupted. He pointed his dagger at Rod before continuing, "You. What do you want?"

Rod smiled. "What I want, Mister... May I get your name?"

"No."

Rod's smile faltered marginally, but he continued on. "Very well. What I want is to provide a warning and an opportunity. The vampire and the witch are irrational, but you seem like a well-prepared man with a good head on your shoulders. Maybe you and your crew can see reason."

Levi nodded, lowering his dagger. "I'm listening."

Eren shook his head.

Rod’s smile snapped back into place. "Thank you. Miss Finger was right when she said that I'm a hell god. I'm here now because I was banished from my home dimension. Truly, all I want is to go back home, but I'm afraid that some people are making that more difficult than it should be."

Gabi made a noise of hurt and fury. "That's because he-"

"-Gabi," Reiner warned, tearing his eyes away from Rod to look at where his cousin was peering around him to glare at the god with furious, glassy eyes.

She looked up at Reiner and scowled. "They need to know what he did," she hissed.

"I know," Reiner murmured. "But-" He glanced at Rod, who was still smiling pleasantly, like nothing that any of them said actually mattered. At Levi, whose unreadable gaze had shifted over to them. At Pieck, who couldn't quite hide the apprehension with which she watched him and Gabi. At everyone else, all caught in varying degrees of curiosity and terror. "- Not right now," he finished.

Gabi stared at him for a moment before nodding.

"May I continue now?" Rod asked.

Levi turned his attention back to him. "No one told you to stop. If you can't talk over a kid, that's your problem."

Rod chuckled. "You may have noticed, but Gabi is a very difficult young girl to ignore."

"Still not my problem."

Rod's smile finally slipped somewhat. "Actually, it's everyone's problem. I don't think that you would be here if you didn't already know that."

Reiner glanced down at Gabi. She had gone back to glaring daggers at Rod, but he didn't - couldn't - miss the flicker of fear just under the surface of her expression. Wordlessly, he held a hand out. She grabbed it and held on tightly enough to verge on being uncomfortable.

"In order to return home, I need to find The Key," Rod continued. "It was a mystical energy source, but thanks to the actions of a group of heretics, The Key was given human form and inserted into the slayer's life, with the memories of herself, those around her, and the key itself altered to think that it had always been there. I am simply looking for that individual so that I can return home."

Levi's eyes darted toward Reiner and Gabi for a moment before shifting back over to Rod. "There's more to it than that. Stop wasting my time and get to the point."

"You're right. The situation is a little... Complicated." Rod clasped his hands together. "Now that The Key has been given mortal form, the portal that will take me home can only be opened through a ritual sacrifice. The portal will only be closed when The Key's blood has stopped flowing, and in the time that the portal is open, this world will be altered in my image."

Someone took in a sharp, terrified breath.

Levi stared at Rod for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I see. You're insane."

Rod frowned. "I would be careful what I say if I were you," he warned.

Levi's eyes hardened into a glare. "Should I? You're the one who was saying shit about not fighting."

"Yes, but there may be consequences further down the road." Rod unclasped his hands and held them out by his side. "I am prepared to offer you an opportunity like no other. It is true that many will perish, but if you help me find my key, I will make sure that you are not among them.  Before I leave, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are well-off in the world that is left behind. You can have comfort, fortune-"

"-And you'll kill an innocent person and start the apocalypse."

Rod pursed his lips. "It's more complicated than that."

Levi sneered. "I'm sure. How many people have you already killed? I can't see a vampire like Braun being that scared of you unless you've already done some serious damage. But it's nothing compared to what you have planned, isn't it? Not that it matters. There isn't shit on this planet that matters if it stands in the way of you getting what you want. Isn't that right?"

A heavy sigh escaped Rod's lips. "I can see that you aren't going to take up my offer. At least be smart enough to stay out of my way. If you don't, you will suffer for it."

"You're going to destroy the world. We'd suffer either way," Levi said.

Rod shook his head. "Not like this."

He paused at that point, looking Reiner dead in the eyes for a moment before shifting his gaze over to Pieck. "Reiner. Pieck. I urge you to reconsider your options while you have the chance. Next time we meet, someone will die."

Gabi's grip on his hand tightened.

With that, Rod turned around and walked off into the night, his pace casual, yet his steps faster than a human of his stature could have ever hoped to accomplish. Within an instant, he was gone.

"Bastard," Eren muttered.

Reiner didn't respond. He also didn't dare to look back at anyone. He didn't want to look at Levi and end up wondering what he was going to do next. He didn't want to look at Connie, Jean, and Sasha and see how they were absorbing what had just happened, if they realized exactly what they were in danger of being pulled into. He didn't want to see the fear on Gabi and Falco's faces or see if Pieck's emotional resilience was finally starting to break down.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice.

Pieck cleared her throat. "We should probably get out of here."

Reiner allowed himself to close his eyes for half an instant. Rod was... he was worse than a problem. He was a catastrophe. However, there was so much that Reiner had to address, and there was nothing that he could truly hope to do about his threat - his promise - at the moment. He had to hold himself together and face the most immediate problems first. And right now, there was one very glaring problem that he hadn't so much as touched.

He didn't look at anyone else as he carefully pulled his hand out of Gabi's grasp and walked over to Pieck.

(Close to Jean, too close, closer than he'd been since-

Don't look. He couldn't fray right now, and he wouldn't fray if he didn't look.)

"How did they find us?" Reiner asked.

"I mean..." Pieck looked over at Jean. Reiner did not follow her gaze. "You tracked us, right?"

"You didn't make it easy," Levi said.

Footsteps. Gabi rushed over to stand beside Falco and urgently whisper something in his ear.

"How were they able to track us?" Reiner pressed. "Are the wards failing?"

"Ah..." Pieck smiled crookedly. "Not exactly? I left a loophole in the wards. If someone is tracking us with good intentions, they can get a lot closer."

Reiner blinked. "That's..." (No no no.) "Why would you do that?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

He shook his head. "This isn't..."

(Wails of pain and betrayal. Bloodshed and begging and crying and the icy depths of the Paradis river screaming out for retribution.

He had already put them through enough.)

"...This isn't their fight," Reiner finished.

Pieck sighed. "I think the end of the world is everyone's fight. And... Reiner, we need help."

Chapter Text

"I'll be there soon," Erwin said.

"Alright," Mikasa murmured. "I'll meet you outside."

Mikasa got moving the instant that she hung up her phone. The motion felt wrong, like she was controlling her body through a remote rather than actively living in it. She knew that she was grabbing her jacket and walking out the door, but in her mind, she was just standing there. She was struggling to process what was happening, trying to figure out exactly what to do, and miserably failing to come up with an acceptable course of action.

Annie was awake.

There was nothing logical about the paralyzed feeling in her mind. She had spent the past several weeks obsessing over what she would do when Annie woke up. Perhaps she wasn't completely at ease with the decisions she had made, but she had made them. She knew what to do from here. The uncertainty, the dread and anxiety that made her fear she might freeze up at the most important moment, were nothing more than illusions.

Annie was awake, but Mikasa had been preparing herself for this moment since her Cruciamentum. She knew what to do and could handle whatever came next. The important thing was to stick with the choices she had made. Everything would be okay as long as she did not let her emotions swallow her up and make her falter or change her path at the last moment.

It was a short walk through her apartment complex to the parking lot out front. There, she only had to wait for a few short minutes before Erwin's van pulled up. Mikasa was approaching it before it had even come to a halt. The wheels had barely stopped turning as she pulled open the passenger's side door and clambered inside.

Erwin immediately resumed driving without needing to be told.

Mikasa looked out the window and focused on keeping her breathing steady and her mind grounded. So much dread and anticipation had been tied into this moment, and now that it was here, she knew what she had to do.

She would be understanding, but not naive.

She would be merciful, but not forgetful.

She would be the slayer. Not the council's slayer, not Tybur's slayer. Just the slayer.

And it was the slayer's job to save people.

When the hospital was coming into view, Erwin turned his head just enough to offer her a smile. It was a little thinner than his grins normally were, a shade more apprehensive than charming. "Are you ready?" he asked.

No, Mikasa thought, the realization slamming into her chest the moment the question was asked. No, she wasn't ready. She knew what she was going to do, knew that she would go through with it no matter how much it hurt, but that didn't mean that she was prepared for it. There was nothing in the world that could have ever truly gotten her ready. Annie could have been asleep for over a year and there still would have been a part of her that felt paralyzed when it came time to actually confront her.

Not just paralyzed. If she was going to do this, Mikasa figured that she should at least acknowledge how she truly felt. She was scared. Scared that this would all go south, scared that Annie would reject her hand when she extended it and she would have to finish what she had started. It was a slayer's job to save people, but there was only so much that could be done when someone was beyond saving. And Annie...

Was it too late for Annie? She was a murderer. There was nothing in the world that could take that back. No amount of good that she might do going forward would ever bring Levi's friends back to life. But did that mean that it was too late for her?

Armin didn't seem to think so. Bertolt certainly hadn't thought so. And Mikasa... Mikasa didn't want to think so.

She would not classify her feelings toward Annie as soft and sentimental by any means. Yes, there was... could have been... something there, but there was also a scar on her stomach and an ache in her heart. When she thought about Annie for too long, that ache spread and ignited a warm plume of anger somewhere deep within her chest, reminding her that she didn't, couldn't, forgive her. Yet after all that she had learned, all that she had seen, she didn't want to think that it was too late for Annie Leonhart to be saved.

But none of that would matter if Annie wasn't willing to be saved. No matter what Mikasa wanted to do, she would only be able to go through with it if the other slayer was willing to comply.

They drove in silence for a while, Mikasa mulling over her words. Finally, as they were pulling into the hospital parking lot, she said, "It doesn't matter if I'm ready. This is happening tonight."

Erwin let out a slight sigh. "Yes," he said, voice grave. "It is." 

He smiled again, faint and clearly intended to be reassuring. Mikasa hesitated before slowly, uneasily, attempting to reciprocate. It felt uncomfortable, like a lie painted across her lips, yet it felt weirdly good at the same time.

It felt good to try. It felt good to let herself have hope, even if she knew that it might lead to greater pain further down the road.

Erwin's smile twitched, growing a little wider, a little more genuine. He looked away as he pulled his car into the hospital parking lot. There, they lingered for only a moment before getting out and making their way through the sliding glass doors.

Mikasa's heart sank.

The hospital was an achingly familiar sight by now. Therefore, her attention was immediately drawn to the thing that was off . A trio of men in white lab coats and hospital scrubs stood clustered with a duo of security officers near the front desk. They spoke to each other in low voices, their words unintelligible, but the urgency of their tones unmissable.

Mikasa looked up at Erwin. He wasn't quite able to hide the flicker of dread in his eyes as he looked back down at her. "Wait here," he said.

One of the doctors looked up as Erwin approached. Mikasa managed to hear him ask, "are you Erwin Smith?" However, everything after Erwin's affirmative response was too quiet for her to make out.

Something had happened, and if they were expecting Erwin, there was only one person who it could have happened to.

Or who could have caused it.

Mikasa resisted the urge to squirm at the feeling of something sharp slithering through her chest, coming dangerously close to stealing her breath and tearing chunks out of her heart. The feeling spread, reaching into her limbs, telling her that she had to move, to do something. She curled herself and forced her legs to remain still, but did fish her cellphone out of her pocket. Almost unthinkingly, she opened Armin's contact and pulled up their text messages.

She hesitated before she could begin to type.

If something really had happened to Annie, she would need to tell him. He would want to know. He would need to know. If Annie wasn't in danger, if she was the danger, then as someone who was relatively close to her, he would need to be on guard. But she didn't know anything for sure yet. There was absolutely no reason to risk upsetting him when there was still even the faintest chance that it was nothing. Whatever uncomfortable feelings that she might be dealing with did not warrant bothering him.

He would say otherwise though. If Armin knew how she was feeling right now, he would want her to contact him. And if they were friends, then maybe... maybe she should.

It might lead to him being even more upset than she was though. Mikasa was the slayer. She was practiced at being cold. Even if she wasn't the same as she was before, she knew how to harden her heart and hold herself together. But Armin was kind. Empathetic. Good. Even more than any fear of Annie, his fear for Annie would be absolutely agonizing.

Mikasa was still staring down at her phone when Erwin walked over to her. She slipped it into her pocket and looked up to meet his grim expression.

"Annie has escaped," he said.

Mikasa took a deep breath. Closed her eyes. Opened them back up and hardened her heart.

"She couldn't have gotten far," she said. Slayer or not, Annie had just woken up from a coma. Even if she pushed herself to her absolute breaking point, her body would give up on her eventually.

She could seriously hurt herself.

She could also seriously hurt a whole lot of other people before that happened.

"I agree, but she does have a head-start," Erwin replied.

Mikasa nodded. "We need to get going."

She turned on her heel and began walking out of the hospital. However, the words that Erwin called out made her come to a stop before she had made it more than a few paces.

"She snuck out. No one was hurt in the process."

Mikasa's heart thumped painfully.

"Good," she said, mouth dry. "Let's find her before that changes."

*

Mikasa and Erwin started their search by checking the buildings to the hospital. Texting someone was not a good way to stay alert, which meant that it was not by any means conducive to a manhunt, but in an empty alleyway behind a coffee shop, she still took a moment to message Armin.

Mikasa: Be careful. Annie woke up and escaped from the hospital.

Armin: Annie's awake?

Mikasa: Yes. And we don't know what she's planning, so you need to be careful.

Armin: You're out looking for her, right?

Mikasa: Yes.

Armin: Where are you?

Oh. Oh no. She had an idea of where this was going, and quite frankly, she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Sure enough, Armin sent her another message before she had a chance to respond.

Armin: I want to help

Mikasa: It's dangerous.

Armin: I know. I want to help anyway

Mikasa's grip on her phone tightened as her throat constricted. Of course Armin knew it was dangerous - he was too smart to delude himself into thinking that he stood a chance against Annie. Except maybe he did. Annie was fresh out of a coma; she'd be exhausted and lost and probably more than a little panicked. And Armin was smart. Even if he couldn't stand up to Annie physically, he might be able to help them find her, or even talk her down.

Erwin had told her that he was going to go inside the shop and ask the owners if they’d seen anything. Now, as Mikasa walked out of the alley, along the side of the shop, she realized that he would tell her that she should let Armin help if she asked him. In this situation, it would be the logical thing to do. Letting her friend walk into danger could give them a strategic advantage.

Mikasa looked down at her phone, stared at it for a long moment, and slowly typed out a response.

Mikasa: You could get hurt.

Armin: So could you

Armin: So could she

Mikasa: Alright.

Mikasa: Meet me outside the hospital.

*

Armin got to the hospital quickly. Even though he was visibly trying to push them down, a cocktail of conflicting emotions bled through to his face. That didn't stop him from offering Mikasa a kind smile as he greeted her. From there, he dove right into the search.

That had been hours ago.

Erwin split off from Mikasa and Armin as they drew further away from the hospital. He said that he was going to call Hanji to help him search; Mikasa tried to ignore the way her stomach lurched at the thought of the watchers being the first ones to find Annie as she told him that it would be a good idea.

When Armin asked if he should search on his own as well, she had refused. It was one thing if Erwin encountered Annie without a slayer behind his back. He may not be able to match up with him physically, but his mind made him a force to be reckoned with. Of course, the same could be said of Armin, but... Erwin and Armin weren't the same, not to her. If Armin was going to be involved with this on any level, it would be with her there to look out for him.

Yet as time slipped by, a guilty part of Mikasa began to wonder if she was making a mistake.

She cast a wary glance at her friend, who was sitting down on Annie's bed, slumped forward with his head in his hands. With exhaustion pounding in her head as she tried to stave off the anxiety and dread threatening to rise in her gut, Mikasa found herself thinking that she quite wanted to do the same thing.

After they had confirmed that Annie wasn't anywhere in the vicinity of the hospital, Armin and Erwin had agreed that she had probably gone somewhere familiar. While Erwin and Hanji checked the areas surrounding his house and the college, Armin and Mikasa had scoped out their apartments. They had searched thoroughly, trying for every nook and cranny where they thought she may be hiding, yet they hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of her. When they failed, Armin suggested that they scope out the house that Annie had shared with her vampire compatriots.

Mikasa had been the one to pick the lock to get them in, but it was Armin who, after only a few minutes of searching, realized that they wouldn't find her there. They tried to turn on the lights, only to find that the power had been shut off at some point. In the darkness, he ran his fingers over the countertops and pointed out the fine layer of dust that had settled over the countertops. A little exploration revealed that it covered the entire house, from the floorboards to the mugs that had been left on the countertop. The absence went deeper than that though; the last time Mikasa stepped foot in the house, it felt bright and lively. Now the air was surreal and undisturbed; a place that had been utterly drained of all life.

Even though they knew what they would find, they still took the time to break into each soulless room in the hopes that Annie may be curled up there, too broken and tired to actually do anything, but present nonetheless. All they found were the abandoned fragments that showed that people had once been there. Weapons tucked in a closet near the back of the house. Reiner's cellphone, long dead, left abandoned on his bed. Crumpled scraps of paper in a waste bin in Bertolt's room. Clothes and bandages left in a pile at the foot of Annie's bed.

Yes, Mikasa had made a mistake, but not by keeping Armin by her side. He had been making smart calls even if they hadn't found Annie yet. She had no doubt that he would have found her if the situation were any different. No, her mistake was that she didn't know exactly what the situation was. She was missing something, some hidden key that would make it all come together, and no matter how hard she raked her mind, she just couldn't find it.

Mikasa walked over to the foot of Annie's bed, crouched down, and grabbed one of the strips of bandages. The soft white material was stained by the dull rusty brown of old blood. She hadn't waited until her wounds had completely healed before confronting Mikasa. Now she was in an even worse state than she had been before, but she hadn't gone home.

Where, then?

Mikasa closed her eyes and tightened her grip around the bandage. Where are you, Annie?

No answers came to her.

She opened her eyes and stared at the bandage for another brief moment before dropping it back down to the pile and rising to her feet. "Where should we look next?" she asked.

Armin lifted his head. "I don't know," he admitted, the desolation in his voice matching the hopelessness that was beginning to encroach on his face. "I don't- Do you know anywhere else that was important to her."

Mikasa frowned. "No. I don't."

Annie had come to know so much about Mikasa, but she hadn't realized until it was too late that her fellow slayer had hardly told her anything. Even now, all of her useful information had come from Bertolt, and he didn't tell her anything about where she might go after she woke up from a coma.

Armin bit his lower lip. "Maybe-"

Mikasa's phone began to ring. She hurriedly pulled it out of her pocket, fully expecting to see Erwin's caller ID flashing across her screen. Instead, it said 'Krista'.

With a scowl, she dismissed the call and shoved the phone back in her pocket.

"You were saying?" she prompted.

Armin frowned, but continued, "At this point, we might have to wait for her to come to us."

Mikasa frowned. "What if she doesn't?"

She could think of many reasons why Annie might not approach someone who put her in a coma. Worse, she could think of many reasons why she wouldn't be able to. She could be injured. Tybur, or the remnants of it, could have gotten their hands on her. The council could have gotten her.

There was a chance that things would go badly once she found Annie, but giving up would be an invitation for things to get worse.

"Probably nothing good," Armin admitted. "But we need to face the possibility that we won't be able to. The odds of us finding her get lower the longer that it takes us. At this point-"

Mikasa's phone rang again. She ground her teeth together as she pulled it out of her pocket, noting that it was Krista once again.

She moved to dismiss the call once again. Before she could, Armin said, "Wait. What if it's important?"

"It's Krista," Mikasa said.

"Ymir's Krista?" Armin asked.

Mikasa nodded hesitantly.

"I think you should answer it," he said. "If she's calling twice, it's probably important."

"More important than Annie?" Mikasa questioned, although she had already begun to warily eye the phone.

Armin nodded. "I know it's unlikely, but... What if it has something to do with her?"

Unlikely. Krista knowing something about Annie wasn't just unlikely, it was potentially disastrous. Yet that only made it more important that she not dismiss her off the bat.

Mikasa answered Krista's call just before it could go to voicemail.

"Mikasa!" Krista's flustered voice exclaimed before she had even gotten the phone to her ear. "Thank goodness you answered!"

"What is it?" Mikasa asked.

"It's... Well... It's Annie."

Mikasa's blood ran cold.

"We ran into her at the abandoned factory," Krista continued. "Ymir's watching her-"

"What?" Mikasa snapped.

"She's just watching her," Krista reassured her. "She hasn't touched her or spoken to her or anything. There isn't really any... Annie isn't looking very good. She's just sitting outside the factory. I'm not sure if she can move or-"

"I'll be right there," Mikasa said. "Don't do anything with her before I can get there."

She hung up before Krista could respond.

Armin stood up as she shoved the phone back into her pocket. "They found Annie?" he surmised.

"Yes," Mikasa said. "I'm going to go to her. You-"

"I'm going with you."

Mikasa shook her head. "No. This is-"

"I already knew it would be dangerous when I decided to help you look for her," Armin pointed out. "I knew that I wouldn't know what sort of state she would be in when we found her. That hasn't changed."

He had a point. She hated it when he had a point, hated that she was feeling the hurt a second time even though she had already made a decision. Even so, that didn't change her feelings, and surely they held some degree of weight.

"I don't want you to get hurt," she whispered.

"I know," Armin replied. "But I don't want you or Annie to get hurt either. The way I see it, you both need help right now, and I... I can't just sit back and do nothing."

Mikasa glanced helplessly toward the corner, but Eren was nowhere to be seen. Of course, he probably wouldn't provide any comfort even if he was. He would never say what she wanted to hear. She was backed into a corner. There was no way she could get Armin to do what she wanted without hurting him in one way or another, and right now, she was too weak to hurt him.

"Alright," she acquiesced. "But let me take the lead."

Armin nodded. "Of course."

*

Most of the time, Mikasa was content with the fact that she didn't have a driver's license. She would hardly be able to afford to take the lessons and test, let alone buy a car. However, as she and Armin made their way to the abandoned factory, every second that passed by a second wasted, she found herself wishing that she had one.

When they were about halfway there, Armin said, "Maybe we could have asked Erwin for a ride." The words came out between pants as they jogged down the riverside pathway, the ragged pavement ahead of them illuminated by only the moon and stars. Armin had a flashlight in his pocket, but they had already decided that it would be better to leave it off, lest the approaching light alarm Annie.

Mikasa pursed her lips, then shook her head. Asking Erwin for help would have gotten them to Annie faster, but it also meant that he would be there when they found her. That was... It wasn't what she wanted. Now that she had at least some degree of control over the situation, it had to be her who confronted Annie.

She just had to hope that they weren't too late.

Her eyes flickered over to Armin. She couldn't ask him to move faster than he already was, but maybe... if she flung him over her shoulder, would she be able to run faster, or would the extra weight slow her down too much?

"Mikasa," Armin panted, meeting her gaze. "If I'm slowing you down, you can go ahead. I'll catch-"

"No," Mikasa said, jerking her gaze forwards once more. She had accepted that she would be slowed down a little when she agreed to let Armin come with her. Leaving him behind in this place was not an option, not even for an instant. "We're almost there. Come on."

They jogged in silence for the remainder of the trip.

Mikasa felt herself go on high alert the second that the factory's silhouette came into view. She started straining her eyes seeking out a human figure long before she was close enough to spot anyone. Once the distance had shrunken enough for her to begin to make out details, she started to put on a burst of speed that she didn't even notice until she was only yards from the factory and realized that Armin was no longer by her side.

She could hear the sound of rapid footsteps behind her. An anxious glance over her shoulder revealed Armin running to catch up with her. With a slight grimace and more effort than it should have taken, Mikasa came to a stop.

"Alright," Armin gasped once he had caught up with her, his voice strained and uneven. "Where do..."

"Armin." Mikasa reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe."

Now it was Armin's turn to grimace. Even so, he nodded, then paused to take in a few deep breaths. When he spoke again, his voice was a little more level. "Where do you think she is?"

Mikasa frowned, glancing over at the looming figure of the factory. "Probably inside. There are-"

"You're wrong," a new voice cut in.

Mikasa's grip on Armin's shoulder tightened slightly as his eyes widened. She followed his gaze to find Ymir approaching from the side of the factory, a deeply disgruntled expression on her face.

"Ymir," Mikasa tersely greeted.

"Ackerman," Ymir returned, pitching her tone in a mockery of Mikasa's. "Your girlfriend isn't inside. She's out back, having a breakdown.”

Girlfriend. Annie wasn’t Mikasa’s girlfriend. Maybe if, in another world, if different choices were made- but no. Annie had never been her girlfriend and never would be. There was no time to make that clarification though, no time to do anything but exchange an alarmed glance with Armin.

Mikasa let go of Armin’s shoulder, nodded, and began walking toward the factory, her friend following closely behind.

"Thank you," she told Ymir. "You can go no-"

"Not so fast." Ymir closed the distance between herself and Mikasa with a few long strides. The slayer shot her a venomous glare and tugged her arm back, but the vampire grinned and held fast. Agitation flared up in her core, hot and acidic.

"Let go of me," Mikasa snarled, tugging at her arm again.

This time, Ymir complied, immediately holding her hands up in a mocking plea of innocence. "Can you blame a girl? I mean, I've been trying to get ahold of you for a while."

"I've been busy," was Mikasa's curt response. "I am busy."

More than busy. Annie had just woken up from a coma and god knew what she was thinking; she didn’t have time to put up with Ymir’s nonsense. It was achingly tempting to just walk away from the vampire. The only thing that stopped her was a faint voice that sounded faintly like Erwin lurking in the back of her mind, reminding her that she could face serious consequences if she did that. Consequences beyond what she could afford right now.

Ymir clicked her tongue. "Aren't we all? If you couldn't meet with me in person, you could have at least sent your watcher to talk to me. Or maybe blondie over there." She inclined her head toward Armin, who inched half a step backward.

Mikasa adjusted herself to block Armin from Ymir's gaze. "Armin isn't my secretary."

"Well, what about the watcher?" Ymir's grin spread a little wider. "The way I see it, he ought to do at least something to make himself useful."

"Ymir," Mikasa growled, allowing all of her irritation to flood into her tone.

Some of the mirth drained from Ymir's face. "Well, if it's like that, then I guess you'll need to discuss the terms of our alliance yourself. And you'd better do it soon; slayer or not, I'm not going to wait for you forever."

Mikasa felt her energy begin to dissipate, some of her fire burning out as she was forced to acknowledge that which she had been putting off for no good reason. "I know," she admitted. "Soon. I can't make any plans right now, but... I'll meet with you soon."

Ymir nodded warily. "Next time I text you, I'd better get a response that's actually useful."

"You will," Mikasa said, truthfully. Or rather, with the intent for it to be truthful. She didn't completely trust that Ymir's next text wouldn't be some nonsense sent at an utterly outrageous hour, but as long as it wasn't, she would at least try to work with her.

The time for avoidance was over. She had to properly address this strange vampire and consider her deal, no matter how unnatural it may feel. Just not tonight .

"Alright," Ymir said. "In that case, I'll be on my way."

True to her word, she took a few steps to the side and began to walk away from the factory. However, before she could get very far, she looked over her shoulder and added, "Good look with Leonhart."

"Thanks," Mikasa murmured.

It was only a short walk to the back of the factory, and from there, it didn't take long to spot the crumpled ball of a person laying curled up on her side, back pressed against the base of the wall.

Mikasa's first thought was that Annie was laying exactly where she had fallen after their battle.

Her second thought was that this wasn't what she had expected. That defeated-looking person, laying in the cold grass and staring at nothing, it wasn't Annie.

Was it?

There was so much that Mikasa should have said, so much that she didn't have any idea how to begin to say. As such, she went for the simplest option. She took half a step closer to Armin and whispered, "Do you think she's injured?"

The factory was a long way away from the hospital. If she had badly injured herself getting there, that would explain a lot.

"I don't know," Armin replied. "I'd need to get closer to be able to tell."

Mikasa nodded. Of course. She already knew that they couldn't just stand there and watch her. The delicate peace that hung in the air would have to be shattered eventually; they would not be able to make any progress until it was. Yet now that she actually stood before Annie, it felt as if her feet were made of lead and her stomach was full of rocks.

She stepped forward anyway.

One step, two, three. Suddenly she was right in front of Annie and crouching down to her level. Faint glimmers of silver danced off her face where dried tears reflected moonlight. Blue eyes moved ever so slightly, twitching up to take in her face, but the slayer herself did not move.

There was so much that Mikasa should say. They were not words that she should struggle to come up with either. She had already been through this, thought about it and tried to use it to reassure herself earlier that very day. After so much time spent obsessing over what to do about Annie, what she would do when she awoke, she knew exactly what she had to do. The girl before her was not in any state to fight, which meant that it was all a matter of following the script that she had woven in her mind.

Yet she had never found the exact words for the script - only the actions and meanings. It was not entirely unintentional. She had known that there was no way she could accurately predict what the very best thing to say would be, had understood that she would have to figure it out in the moment. But as her stomach twisted and her mouth went dry, she still found herself wishing that she could have practiced the words themselves. She wished that it could have been different. She wished that so much had gone differently.

If she had to guess, so did Annie.

"How did you get here?" was the whispered question that left her lips.

Annie's expression shifted, brows furrowing and lips pursing. Her eyes were pained and empty, so deeply unlike her, but a flicker of disbelief still managed to push through the haze. She had asked a stupid question.

Except she hadn't. Annie had just woken up from a coma, yet she had walked miles, without a phone, map, or compass, all the way to the site of her defeat. Now that Mikasa looked, she could see that she had obtained a pair of shoes at some point, but she still wore the same white long-sleeved shirt and pants that she had worn during the hospital. That she hadn't stopped to find something else to change into told her that she probably hadn't had anything to eat or drink either.

The hospital clothes were thin. She must be cold.

"We're miles away from the hospital," Mikasa pointed out, tone too impassive to be kind, but certainly not harsh either. "What were you thinking?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Annie asked, her voice coming out in a hoarse croak. She slowly shuffled as she struggled to pull herself upright. Mikasa started to move to reach out a hand, but a look from Annie made her pull it back at the last second. It took a few moments, but eventually, the other slayer was sitting up, her back resting against the bricks of the factory. "I wasn't," she whispered. "I just got out and started running."

Running. Annie, who must have meticulously planned Mikasa's deception in order to trick her as thoroughly as she had, had woken up and just started running. Annie, who had broken her heart and nearly killed her. Annie, who was one of the strongest people Mikasa had ever met. That was the woman who just got out and started running .

It didn't fit.

"Why?" Mikasa breathed.

"What's left for me?" Annie whispered. "After all of this... what's left for me to fight for? To go back to?"

As Annie spoke, the faint flicker of emotion that had found its way into her eyes drained away once again, leaving only dull emptiness. Looking at it, Mikasa realized that no, that look wasn't actually unlike her. She had seen that pain and emptiness once before, in the instant before she pushed her off the roof. It was just unlike the Annie who she had known before the battle, a woman who she had never actually known at all. 

Mikasa looked over at Armin. He was standing a few steps behind her, staring sadly at Annie. She searched for something that might be helpful, but found someone who looked almost as lost as she did.

Lost? No, not lost. She knew what to do. The script was playing out and now the words were presenting themselves - all that she had to do was speak.

She turned her gaze back to the shattered remains of her fellow slayer before beginning, "Annie, while you were in your coma-"

"I know," she said.

Mikasa blinked. "You... know?"

"I could hear everything you said. I know about Bertolt and Reiner. I know that you killed Lara. I know what you're going to..." She looked down and allowed her voice to drop into a barely-audible whisper. "I remember what you said."

Mikasa's lips parted, but no words came out. She had wondered if Annie might be able to hear her, may have even believed it at moments, but that was the sort of thing one thought and wondered when someone was in a coma. The second she had woken up, it had seemed too fanciful to really take any time to consider.

Fanciful and inconvenient. If Annie already knew what she was going to say, then that shattered the script. Her offer of a second chance was effectively already made, and Annie had woken up and run anyway.

...In the script, she had broken the news about Tybur and her companions to Annie gently. In reality, Annie had woken up well aware that there was nowhere left for her to go back to.

There was little scarier than being told that the only direction to go was forward.

While Mikasa did nothing but stand there and stare, Armin took a step forward. "You must be exhausted," he said gently.

Annie looked Armin in the eyes, but said nothing. He took that as his cue to continue speaking. "You just got out of a coma. Even if you are a slayer, you should be resting, not running through the forest."

Two pairs of eyes bored into each other for a brief instant before Annie looked away, shifting her gaze toward the ground. "What are you getting at?" she asked, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"Shouldn't you already know?" Mikasa asked. Maybe her words were a little too blunt, her voice a little too detached, her demeanor too close to harsh when she was supposed to be trying for comforting. But it made Annie look back up at her, and although she didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing, she was willing to take it either way. So in that same maybe too blunt, maybe too detached, probably too harsh tone, she went on to say, "I'm giving you a second chance, Annie."

Annie looked away again. However, this time it wasn't to look down. This time, it was to look up, toward the edge of the rooftop that she had fallen from. She stared at it for several seconds before meeting Mikasa's eyes once again and asking, "What if that isn't possible?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Mikasa forced herself to ask, as if she didn't already know.

It didn't work. Of course it didn't work. Annie may have been a liar herself, but she shouldn't have expected her to let her pretend that things were even remotely okay between them for even an instant. That would be too close to pity, and even fractured and falling apart, Annie Leonhart would not let herself be subject to pity. "Don't play dumb," she said.

"Alright," Mikasa said. "I won't. But I'm not going to leave you here."

"Why?" Annie choked out.

Once again, Mikasa was left without knowing what to say. Oh, she knew why, had spent too long thinking about why to not know, but how could she sum it up in a few words? How could she begin to pour out her emotions without being too soft, too cruel, or taking too long? How could she hope to be that honest, especially with her?

If she had been alone, it may have proven to be an insurmountable obstacle. But she wasn't alone. Armin took a step forward and knelt down in front of Annie, his expression one of pleading.

"Because we want to give you a second chance," he said. "We don't know if any good will come of it, only you can decide that, but we want to at least try. So please... come back with us. I can't begin to imagine what you've gone through, what you've lost, but there are people who want to help you heal. So please, Annie, let us."

For a moment, there was quiet. Annie stared at Armin, then switched her gaze to Mikasa, the faintest hints of uncertainty painting themselves across her features.

Mikasa hesitated for only a second before nodding.

"...Okay," Annie whispered.

Chapter Text

Everything felt like it was passing by in a surreal haze. After a brief conversation, the hunter and his companions agreed to go back to their motel for a few hours before meeting up with Pieck and Reiner at their house. That left them with a relatively short window to get themselves presentable and corral the children.

Colt, Udo, and Zofia were all still asleep when they got back. Pieck couldn't help but feel a little grateful for it. It wouldn't be fun to explain what had happened when it was time to get going, but for now, their slumber meant that she and Reiner could get ready in some degree of peace.

Colt would be a bigger problem than Udo or Zofia. Those two would be scared, but he would be upset that she hadn't woken him up when she saw that his little brother had gone missing. Pieck couldn't bring herself to feel guilty about it. If he had come to that graveyard with her, it would have been one more person in danger. Worse yet, waking him up could have roused Udo and Zofia as well. When they saw that Gabi and Falco were missing, they would have wanted to go as well. That wasn't to say that they were the most reckless of the children - if they had been awake, they probably would have tried to stop Gabi from following Reiner. They would have failed; if Falco hadn't been able to stop her, they certainly wouldn't be capable. Like Falco, they probably wouldn't have been able to resist following her, even if their reasons for doing so were different. The little slayer truly was the ring-leader of their group, and if she had led all four of them into the graveyard...

If all of the children had been present, Rod wouldn't have been willing to let that opportunity pass, regardless of the deal he wanted to strike with the hunters.

It was a good thing they had been asleep. She told Gabi and Falco to let them keep sleeping for a little while longer before handling Reiner.

The house they were staying in was as decrepit inside as it was out. Considering it had been sitting abandoned for some time, it could certainly be worse, but it still left a lot to be desired.

They only had water and electricity because Pieck had spent hours painstakingly piecing out how to turn them on magically. Rough wooden floors meant that you had to wear shoes inside or risk a foot full of splinters. Spots of suspicious discoloration marked the off-white ceiling and poorly-insulated yellow walls. There hadn't been any furniture when they "moved in," and the tattered couch in the living room and handful of mattresses and blankets that were strewn throughout the bedrooms had all been snatched from alleyways. Everyone had some small amount of clothing and a few personal possessions, but it did nothing to make the place less miserable as a whole.

The bathroom she dragged Reiner into was one of the cleanest rooms in the entire place, if only because Pieck had spent a good deal of time and effort getting it that way. She sat him down on the toilet before crouching down to grab the first aid kit she had stored in the small, dusty cupboard beneath the sink.

Reiner began protesting as soon as he saw her pull it out. "You don't have to-"

"We're meeting up in public," Pieck interrupted. "If you walk around with a gaping head wound, it'll get us more questions than we can afford. Besides." She set the first aid kit down beside the toilet, grabbed a washrag from under the sink. She checked to make sure it was relatively clean before standing up, turning on the faucet, and running it under the weak stream of water that trickled out. "It isn't going to heal quickly, is it?"

She looked at Reiner and saw him looking away. It was an answer all on its own, but not enough to stop her from probing a little further.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

No response.

Pieck sighed. She stepped over to Reiner and began carefully running the rag over the blood smeared across the side of his head. He didn't flinch when she accidentally brushed against the wound itself, but he also didn't look her in the eyes when she tried to meet his gaze.

"It's not like I'm telling you to go out and hurt someone," she said.

"I know," Reiner murmured.

He knew. She knew. They both knew that it wasn't as if there weren't options for vampires that didn't involve drinking human blood, even if they couldn't afford to go to the butchers. This was Reiner inflicting suffering upon himself, because...

Pieck looked away from Reiner a moment before she stepped back over to the faucet and began wringing the blood out of the washrag.

Reiner probably wasn't eating because he genuinely couldn't bring himself to. The issue ran deeper than that though; he was also inflicting unnecessary suffering upon himself because he felt he deserved it. And truthfully, for all that it hurt to watch, Pieck couldn't bring herself to disagree. The years spent working with him without a soul had been... They hadn't been terrible, but she couldn't deny that his victims deserved their pound of flesh. She deserved to be able to help tear him apart, if she wanted to.

But she didn't. She wanted a partner who could help see her through this mess, and Reiner was certainly trying, but she didn't know how long he could realistically keep going in this state. She didn't know how long either of them could.

Pieck looked back down at the rag. The dull gray was stained by rusty splotches, but it looked like she'd removed all of the blood that she'd be able to without actually washing it. Even so, she wrung it out once more as she asked, "Those hunters. They're from Paradis?"

She already knew the answer to that question. Even if Reiner hadn't told her who was outside their door the day Jean and the short man showed up, it was written in the way he reacted to them. She had to ask regardless, something to fill the silence and guide them on to the next topic.

"They aren't hunters," Reiner murmured.

Dropping the rag in the sink, Pieck turned to Reiner and raised an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me. The short one certainly looked like he knew what he was doing."

She crouched down and pulled a roll of gauze and adhesive out of the first aid kit. Her hand hovered over a packet of antiseptic ointment for a moment before she remembered that there was no point in using it on a vampire.

"Levi is a hunter, but the others aren't," Reiner clarified. "They shouldn't be involved in this."

Pieck hummed. "Tilt your head," she instructed. Reiner obeyed, and she set about carefully wrapping gauze around his head. It was only when she finished and tore the gauze free from the rest of the roll that she asked, "Shouldn't be involved in this, or you don't want them involved in this?"

Reiner glanced at her, then looked away not a second later. "They're going to get themselves killed."

Pieck dropped the remaining gauze back into the first aid kit, then got to work taping down the material wrapped around Reiner's head. The work made the momentary quiet a little less uncomfortable than it would have been otherwise.

She didn't know exactly what happened in Paradis, but she knew what Reiner had been like well enough to have some idea. I bet that you were the one trying to kill them not too long ago, were the words that she didn't dare say. She knew that he knew that well enough. Knowing him the way he was now, that was probably half the reason why he didn't want them involved.

"Like I said, if Rod gets his hands on the Key, it's the end of the world. And..." There were so many things that she could say, each harder to think than the last and all encroaching on impossible to actually say.

She stepped back from Reiner with a sigh. He started to raise a hand toward his bandages, only for her to push it back down with a smack. "Don't touch it!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry," Reiner murmured.

Pieck snorted. She idly tossed the roll of adhesive tape from one hand to another as she eyed her bandaging job. Now that she looked at it, she'd gotten a lot of tape in Reiner's hair, which... were you even supposed to use adhesive tape when bandaging head wounds?

Oh well, too late now. Reiner would just have to deal with a little tugging when it was time to change the bandages. The very obvious bandages.

"You should wear a hat when we go out," Pieck said.

Reiner frowned. "I don't have one."

Right. Because he hadn't thought to bring any clothes with him when he left Paradis. Considering the general state he had been in when he showed up, the lack of spare clothes had really been the least of their problems. Pieck had been able to get him some things easily enough. Now, though, she was certainly regretting her lack of hat-related foresight.

"We're going to stick out like a sore thumb," she declared.

"That was going to happen anyway," Reiner pointed out.

A frail half-smile touched Pieck's lips. "You're not wrong."

She glanced at the sink and let out a gentle sigh. Rivulets of pink stained the already-splotchy porcelain where she had forgotten to rinse the sides, but she had already spent enough time getting Reiner patched up. Getting the kids ready would take another solid chunk of time, and if they waited much longer, they might not be ready by the time the hunter - Levi, she supposed - and his group showed up. Their two groups already had a checkered enough past without her making slowness a factor in their first impression.

"You get Gabi, Falco, and Colt ready, I'll corral Udo and Zofia?" she suggested, looking back at Reiner.

Reiner nodded and rose to his feet.

For a moment, Pieck considered stopping him. She considered telling him that if the Paradis folks wanted to get involved, that was their decision. Another option was telling him that it wasn't his fault that they were getting caught up in something so much bigger than any of them could have imagined, no matter what he may have done to them in the past. Or maybe the best option would be to just say that the fact that he had wronged them before did not make him responsible for their safety now.

In the end, she remained silent. She may have known pre-soul Reiner well enough to imagine what might have happened between him and the people who she suspected had once considered him their friend, but she still didn't know. And that meant that it wasn't her place to say.

Getting the children ready was about as easy as she could have hoped it would be. There were complaints about being woken up in the middle of the night and increasingly alarmed questions of what they were doing. Aside from assuring them that no, Rod wasn't there to kill them all, she brushed them all aside.

They waited until Levi's van pulled up outside the house to actually herd the children outside. The group had made their way halfway to the car when Udo stopped walking. "Seriously, who are these people?" he demanded.

"I think that's the van from the other day," Zofia murmured, coming to a stop beside him.

Udo cast her a surprised glance before glowering up at Pieck. "You can't tell us to get in some van without telling us what's going on!" he exclaimed.

"Yes they can!" Gabi snapped over her shoulder, still marching toward the van. Falco faltered a few steps behind her, glancing warily between her and the other two. He was saved from his indecisiveness when Reiner put a gentle hand on Gabi's shoulder to stop her before she could get very far.

"I'm not trying to keep secrets from you, I swear," Pieck said, holding her hands up. I just don't want to get your hopes up.

"It's a complicated situation," Colt piped up from his position toward the back of the group. Pieck took a moment to shoot him a grateful glance. She didn't know how much Reiner did or didn't tell him, but apparently it had been enough for him to try to help, and for that she was grateful.

"Complicated enough that we have to get into a van full of strangers?" Udo prodded.

"Reiner and Pieck trust them, and that should be enough for you!" Gabi declared. "Besides, one of them told off Rod!"

The reaction was instantaneous. Falco frowned, Colt grimaced, fear flashed across Zofia's face, and Udo took a step back. "You saw Rod?" he hissed.

Pieck looked over at Reiner. He met her gaze for a moment, then looked at the children, and finally jerked his head at the van. Pieck nodded and hurriedly walked the rest of the way to the van. She tried not to let herself be too distracted by the cacophony of high-pitched voices, Colt's well-meaning but stressed responses, and Reiner's low tones as he tried to calm down the lot of them.

The driver's side window rolled down to reveal the short hunter frowning heavily down at her. Beside him, she could make out the man who she recognized as Jean.

"Levi, right?" she asked.

Levi grunted.

Pieck forced a smile. "Sorry about the delay. We're having some trouble convincing the kids to get in a van full of strangers."

"Tell them that we're going to Denny's," Levi said.

Pieck blinked. At the same time, an unknown voice exclaimed, "Wait, we're going to Denny's?"

"I mean, they are open twenty-four seven," a female voice said.

"You would know that," the first voice replied.

"Are they even open on Christmas?" Jean asked.

"You think I didn't research?" Levi retorted without looking away from Pieck.

"I'll let them know," Pieck said.

She infused a streak of bright, playful warmth into her voice as she approached the children and declared, "You get pancakes if you get in the van."

That got them to quiet down. Gabi blinked up at her with wide, hopeful eyes. "What kind of pancakes?"

"Denny's pancakes," Pieck said.

Gabi shot Udo a look that said that he had better get in that van. Meanwhile, Reiner shot Pieck a look of confusion. She returned it with a shrug. This wasn't what she had expected, but as far as sordid meetings to discuss the potential end of the world went, it certainly wasn't the worst potential meeting location.

"Alright," Reiner said, forcing some degree of life into his voice as he spoke to the children. "Why don't we get going?"

From there, it only took about five minutes to pile everyone into the car and get going. The fit was tight and the air was heavy with an unspoken tension that kept even Gabi quiet. However, the children started chattering the second they pulled into the parking lot and began piling out of the car. They seemed cheerful enough despite the circumstances - doubtlessly propped up by the prospect of mountains of sugar cleverly disguised as food.

Levi took the lead, the rest of the Paradis group clustered together closely behind him. The children were only a few paces behind, Colt hovering anxiously by their side. He kept shooting glances between Levi's group and Reiner. However, Reiner had fallen to the very back of the group, had his gaze fixated on the ground, and didn't seem like he was going to look up anytime soon. As such, Pieck took it upon herself to meet Colt's gaze and offer him a reassuring smile. He hesitated for a moment before returning it and fully shifting his attention to the children.

Pieck dropped back to walk beside Reiner. When he didn't react to her presence, she gently elbowed him in the ribs.

"Sorry," he murmured, looking up to meet her gaze.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fine," he said, low enough that only she could hear. It was the most blatant lie she'd heard from him in a while. However, there was also no real point in calling him out on it. He wasn't anywhere near fine, but there also wasn't anything she could think of to change that. Especially not in their current circumstances. It didn't matter that he may not be able to handle the meeting that they were walking into. Their situation was such that they had to face it anyway, and all she could do was hope that he didn't fall apart on her.

The gentle chiming of a bell alerted her to Levi pushing the door open. In the next instant, the group went from spaced out according to their respective factions to all crammed together in the Denny's lobby.

Pieck took in the myriad of faces, all expressing some degree of discomfort with the sole exception of Gabi, before quickly turning her attention to the restaurant itself. The lobby was decorated in the typical chain restaurant attempt at festivity. A small fake tree covered in cheap ornaments was wedged in a corner near the door with colorful gift boxes piled beneath it. Strings of red and green lights ran along the edges of the windows and the top of the front desk. Cheerful Christmas music was playing from the speakers even though a glance at her watch revealed that it was four in the morning.

Fitting in with the theme, the woman behind the desk wore a pair of brown felt antlers on her head. She also scowled at them for half a second before remembering to force a smile. It came out a lot closer to a grimace, but Pieck had to give her credit for trying. If she were in her shoes and eleven people came in at four A.M. on Christmas day, she doubted that she would have put the effort into looking even vaguely welcoming.

A short exchange between the hostess and Levi saw them being led into the dining area. They only got a short way in before Reiner approached the hostess and asked, voice low, "If it isn't too much trouble, can we get a separate table for the children?"

Gabi made a noise of disgruntlement, but a narrowed-eyed glance from Levi stopped her from actively protesting. She did, however, look the hunter directly in the eyes and scowl heavily.

The hostess looked at Reiner and immediately zeroed in on the bandages wrapped around his head. She stared in silence for a moment before shaking her head slightly. "Would you like it to be nearby?"

"Yes, please."

The hostess nodded. Turning away from the pair of tables she had been approaching, she led the adults to one booth and the children to another. Where the children piled into their booth easily, the adults took their places more hesitantly. There was only room for three people on each side, which was going to be... interesting.

Levi was the first one to sit down, claiming the far left side. Jean quickly moved to sit down beside him. That left the bald man and the woman who had been wielding the bow to exchange a nervous glance. Slowly, cautiously, the woman sat down on the far right, leaving her friend to take the final seat on the left. Pieck shot a glance at Reiner and Colt before taking the seat beside her.

That was when Colt decided to speak up. "Uh, should I...?" he looked between the children's table and the adults, indecision written across his face.

Trepidation wore at the edges of Reiner's expression as he looked at the adult table, then at the children. Pieck knew that she wasn't imagining the reluctance in his voice when he asked, "Colt, can you please sit with the children?"

Relief blossomed across Colt's face. Before he could take his seat, however, Gabi popped up, resting her arms on the back of her seat and peering down into the other booth. "Or you could both sit here and I could sit over there," she cheerfully said.

A fragment of a smile flickered across Reiner's lips. He reached out gently pat Gabi's head as he said, "You won't miss anything important."

"Only what you don't want me to hear," she countered.

"Things that you don't need to hear," Pieck countered, twisting around to face the girl. "Terror and bloodshed and boring stuff."

"I'm sure they'll tell us anything important," came Falco's voice. It was a valiant attempt, but one that was ruined by the unmissable thread of reluctance and curiosity in his tone. Still, at least he was making an attempt.

Gabi scowled and leaned further over the booth. "Terror and bloodshed aren't boring."

"What are you?" Levi cut in. "Ten?"

"Twelve," Gabi archly corrected.

Levi waved a dismissive hand. "You're staying at the kiddie table."

"But I'm the slayer!" Gabi exclaimed. "Reiner-"

Reiner shook his head. "We're mostly going to be talking about stuff you already know." And considering the group in question, at least dancing around things that he never wanted her to know. Things that she would have to learn eventually, but preferably not here and now. He was doing a good job of keeping his expression even, considering. "Falco’s right; we'll tell you if there's anything important. But for now, we need you to sit down and behave."

Gabi's shoulders slumped. "I always behave," she muttered.

Someone that sounded an awful lot like Zofia snorted. She shot her a glare before sinking back into her seat with one last tragic, reluctant look at her cousin.

"Thank you," Reiner said.

"You're welcome," Gabi grumbled.

"Excuse me," Pieck said to the girl beside her. She pulled herself up onto her knees and smiled down at the children - Udo and Zofia whispering quietly at one another, Falco staring worriedly at Gabi, and Gabi doing something that was a little too proud to quite be sulking, but certainly came close.

"You can order whatever you want when the waiter comes," she cheerfully said.

That did the trick - at least for the most part. Gabi's eyes brightened as she immediately began chatting with Zofia and Udo. Falco shot her an anxious glance, to which she offered him a small smile. He began to open his mouth, but she cut him off with a shake of her head. 'It's fine,' she mouthed. She could afford it as long as... well... she'd manage.

Pieck settled back down while Colt took his seat at the children's table. Reiner hesitated for a moment longer before awkwardly sitting down beside Pieck. He perched at the very edge of the seat, leaving several inches of space between himself and her, and did not meet anyone's gaze directly.

“So,” Pieck began, “Why don’t we start with introductions?”

“I think we already know each other well enough,” Jean grumbled, glowering at Reiner out of the corner of his eyes.

Pieck pursed her lips, only to force her expression back into a grin half a second later. “Alright then, what’s my name?”

Jean’s eyes widened minutely. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, like a fish gasping for air, before stammering out, “I- You didn’t-”

“So you don’t already know who everyone here is?” Pieck challenged.

The beginnings of a blush were creeping up Jean’s neck. “That’s only because you didn’t-”

“Didn’t what, Jean?” Pieck sweetly asked. 

Pieck felt the woman beside her start quivering before she heard her snicker. Not a second later, the bald guy sitting across from Reiner joined her. Neither made any attempt to hide their amusement and both were subjected to an unhappy glower for Jean. It only lasted for a moment, the situation at hand being the sort that thoroughly prevented any greater levity, but it was still enough to make her chest feel a little lighter, if only for a moment.

“...Kirstein,” Jean said once quiet had begun to settle over the group again. “My name is Jean Kirstein.”

Pieck nodded. She didn’t see how knowing his last name was even remotely important right now, but he was at least trying, and she would give him credit for that. “Pieck Finger,” she returned. 

She moved to stand up and reach across the table to shake his hand, but was cut off but Levi saying, “Let’s not.”

“Seems impolite,” Pieck remarked, already sitting back down.

Levi snorted. “I don’t give a shit. We don’t need to be clamoring all over each other in the name of being polite.” He paused, shooting Pieck a long look before saying, “Levi.”

Pieck raised an eyebrow. “No last name?” Sure, it wasn’t really necessary, but after she and Jean had given theirs, it seemed odd to leave it out.

“Yeah, what is your last name, Levi?” the woman by Pieck’s side chimed in. 

“Unimportant,” Levi said. “Let’s get this over with so we can get on to the important shit.”

The woman shrugged. “Fair enough.” She twisted around in her seat to grin at Pieck before continuing, “I’m Sasha Braus! Baldie over there is Connie Springer-”

“-Excuse me,” Connie protested.

“-And… Uh…” Sasha’s smile faltered. “That’s about everyone at this table who needs introducing, I guess.”

Pieck glanced at Reiner out of the corner out of her eyes. He was staring at some far-off point of the wall, expression distant enough that she would suspect that he wasn’t listening to a word they were saying if she didn’t know better. 

“There’s still the children,” Jean pointed out, voice several shades terser than it had been seconds ago. A glance at him revealed that he was pointedly looking away from Reiner.

“Right,” Pieck said. “That’s…” she raised a hand to run her fingers through her hair. “It’s kind of complicated."

Alarm flickered across Jean’s face at the same instant that Levi’s eyes narrowed. The older hunter began to open his mouth, only to close it when an exhausted-looking woman made her way over to their table. She pressed her lips into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she passed out menus and exclaimed, “Merry Christmas, everyone! I’ll be your server for the evening. Would you-”

“-We’re going to need a long time to decide,” Levi cut in. “Don’t bother with us for a while. Same goes for the kids.”

The woman’s grin faltered. “I’ll be back later then,” she said before hurrying over to the children’s table to pass out menus. 

An uncomfortable silence hung over the group, broken only by the displaced cheer of Christmas music and the soft, unintelligible chatter from the table next to them. It lasted until the waitress had departed completely, then lingered for another moment longer.

“I’m guessing that none of those kids actually have one of you as a legal guardian,” Levi finally said.

Pieck smiled thinly. “Actually…” She glanced at Reiner. He met her gaze for a second. When he didn’t do or say anything to stop her, she took that as her cue to plow on. “Reiner is Gabi’s cousin.”

“What?” Connie said, surprise flashing across his face. “But… I thought you were a…”

“I was only turned eight years ago,” Reiner murmured, not looking away from the nothing he was looking at.

“What?” Connie repeated, voice flat. “That’s…” he shook his head. “For some reason, I thought you were a lot older.”

“What about the rest of your family?” Levi pressed.

Pieck pressed her lips together as Reiner’s gaze dropped down to his feet. That hadn’t been an easy topic prior to him getting his soul. If she wanted to be a good friend, she would probably cut in and make the hunter change the subject. But considering the circumstances and who they were talking to, would it be acceptable for her to try to be a friend to Reiner at all? It wasn’t her place to answer for him and it certainly wouldn’t be appropriate for her to try to defend him from heartache caused by these people.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to do either. Before she could even make up her mind, Levi crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. “Tybur killed them,” he surmised. “They went looking for a potential slayer, didn’t find her, and you were the sorry consolation prize. Except you went on to make sure that they never found her.”

Reiner’s gaze snapped over to Levi, all of the distance that had been written across his features dissipating in the span of a second. Pieck only watched him for a moment before turning her attention to the other people at the table. Jean was still looking away, his expression one of stagnating anger, but Connie was staring intently at his hands while Sasha glanced between Reiner and Levi. None of them seemed especially surprised, which could only mean that they’d gone over this before. Which meant that Reiner had been figured out a while ago.

Pieck wondered if he understood just how lucky he was not to have Tybur bearing down his throat. Probably not, but that was because there was so much else that he was probably already struggling to process.

Reiner whispered, “How did you…”

Levi waved a hand dismissively. “You weren’t hard to figure out once we pieced the rest together. You’ll probably be happy to hear that Lara’s dead.”

Pieck blinked.

And blinked again.

She shook her head, wondered if she had just heard him right. A glance at Reiner’s shocked expression told her that she probably had, but… 

“She’s… dead?” Reiner murmured, sounding just as disbelieving as she felt. His eyes slowly wandered over to Connie, who shrugged, gaze still locked on his hands.

“I mean, I tried to tell you. You’re the one who was all determined to run off,” he murmured.

“How?” Pieck asked.

“Mikasa killed her!” Sasha chirped. “I don’t think it was an easy battle, but she managed it, once Bertolt told her how.”

“Bertolt?” Reiner asked, his voice taking on a distant, disconnected quality. “But… Why would he…?”

“Uh… He… Well… There was sorta…” Sasha looked down, expression pensive and heavy.

Pieck wouldn’t say that she and Bertolt had been close. When she knew him, she had been a child under Tybur’s domain and him one of their subservient puppets. He didn’t have the odd worth and dependability of Marcel and was too scared of Tybur for her to ever truly rely on him, but he had been nice to spend time with. Bertolt had never been cruel, which was saying a lot for a vampire. She hadn’t wanted anything to happen to him. And now it sounded like…

Levi sighed. “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” he said, raising two fingers to rub at his temple.

“Please,” Pieck said. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know, just… tell us what happened.”

Levi met her pleading gaze. He held it for several seconds, unwavering, before finally nodding. “The short version,” he said.

“That’s fine,” Pieck replied.

“Leonhart’s in a coma.”

“Annie’s alive?” Reiner interrupted. Pieck couldn’t say that she blamed him - her own heart was thundering in her chest, as if it were trying to free itself from her ribcage.

Levi silenced him with a glare before continuing. “The watcher’s council put Ackerman through a Cruciamentum not long after the fight. Hoover was her opponent. They made a deal; he told her what he knew about Tybur, Lara’s weakness, and let her kill him. In return, she agreed to give Leonhart a second chance if she wakes up - and not to stake you if you show your face again.”

“Wait, what?” Jean said. “You didn’t tell us about-”

This time, it was Jean who fell victim to Levi’s glare. Like Reiner, he fell silent almost immediately, although frustration remained prominent on his face. 

Levi continued, “Lara came to kill Leonhart. Ackerman fought her and cut her head off. Then we found out that Leonhart flatlined, and now here we are.”

There they were. Marcel was dead, Porco was a vengeance demon, Annie was in a coma, Bertolt was dead, and Reiner had been fundamentally altered, but there Pieck was. Alive, whole, and possibly, maybe, free of Tybur. Except she wasn’t, was she? Lara may have been one of Tybur’s leaders, but she wasn’t the one who called the big shots. She wasn’t the sorcerer. Helos was still out there, and no matter how much effort she put into Gabi’s protective wards, he would find her eventually. Rod already had. It was really just a question of if he showed up before the hell god killed them all, or-

Maybe her dead friends were the lucky ones. Marcel didn’t have to see what had become of the little brother he’d tried so hard to protect. Bertolt had regained some of his autonomy before he died, by the sounds of it. Annie might finally be getting the chance to rest. She couldn’t help them, she had stood back and left them to their fates, but maybe they were lucky for it. Because she and Reiner- 

“Pieck?” Reiner murmured, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.

Right. She couldn’t let herself think about that stuff right now. Someday, if she survived what was to come, there would be time for her to process her emotions. Right now, she had to focus on the apocalypse at hand. She couldn’t let Reiner do a better job of holding himself together than her. 

“Thank you for telling us, Levi,” Pieck said, plastering a gentle smile across her face. She ignored the wary look that Jean was giving her. Ignored the glance that Sasha and Connie exchanged. Ignored everything except for what she needed to be saying right now. “I’m guessing you’d like me to start with the children?”

Reiner allowed his hand to drop from her shoulder, a flicker of relief showing in his expression. It had always been easy to convince him.

Levi nodded. “I can understand the slayer. But why do you have the rest of the mob with you?”

“The slayer is Gabi,” Pieck said. “The boy you saw with her earlier was Falco. The teenager, Colt, is his older brother. The other girl, Zofia, is her foster sister. Udo, the other boy, is one of her friends. They’re with us because…” She paused, glancing warily over her shoulder. She could hear the children chattering with each other. Chatter was good - it meant that they weren’t eavesdropping.

She looked back at Levi, took in a deep breath, and continued, “Rod is a hell god who was banished from his home dimension after an uprising. He wants to return home using The Key - a mystical energy source that has the power to weaken the walls between dimensions. However, using The Key would cause his dimension to spill out into ours while it is in use, turning the earth into a living hell.”

“Like… a literal living hell?” Sasha whispered, face pale.

Pieck smiled bleakly. “They don’t call it an apocalypse for nothing.”

“But Rod said that The Key is human,” Jean pressed.

“Well, it is now, ” Pieck said. “There was a mystical order - the Knights of Byzantium - that had foretold Rod’s arrival. They got to the Key before he could and used powerful magic to give it human form and send it to the slayer to protect. The magic fabricated false memories so that she and everyone else would think that it was a close loved one and she would protect it with their life. Right now, Rod thinks that one of Gabi’s friends is The Key.”

“And their families?” Levi questioned.

Something shifted uncomfortably in Pieck’s stomach. She glanced at Reiner to find him eyeing her warily.

“Rod has a gunman working for him,” she said, shifting her attention back to Levi. Not Reiner’s discomfort or slowly growing concern, not the mounting horror of everyone else at the table - just Levi and his almost soothingly blank expression. “He’s already killed the children’s families. And if he gets his hands on any of them, unless they’re The Key…”

“He’ll kill them too,” Levi finished. “Do you know which one it is?”

The discomfort in Pieck’s stomach was beginning to grow into something painful. It would doubtlessly get worse as she continued to explain the situation. If questioned, she would have to admit to some level of guilty relief when she saw the waitress returning.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked, pen poised over her notepad.

Levi frowned, shot a quick glance at the children’s booth, and ultimately nodded.

The waitress turned her smile toward Reiner, who shook his head. "I'm not hungry," he said, pushing his menu back towards her. True to his word, Pieck had noticed that he hadn't so much as glanced at it the entire time they had been there. She doubted that he wasn't hungry - Rod wouldn't have been able to toss him aside quite so easily if that wasn't the case - but it would be a waste of money for him to order anything from Denny's.

Besides, Pieck didn't really have a leg to stand on even if it wasn't.

She handed her menu over to the waitress the moment she turned her attention to her. "I'm not hungry either," she pleasantly chirped, even as the gnawing hole in her gut called her a liar. It was an unpleasant sensation, but one that she had grown used to recently. She knew that she'd be able to put up with it for at least another day, or longer, if necessary.