Chapter Text
She entwines their fingers and says "Let's run away. You and me, let's leave it all behind. I can tell there's something on your mind that you're not telling me. You don't have to carry this burden alone. I want to share it with you; your happiness, your sadness, your fears, your sins. Everything. You're my family. I want to spend every second of my life with you."
And it is exactly the right thing to say at exactly the right time.
He doesn't think twice.
He squeezes her hand and starts running.
If they run as fast as they can, maybe the ghosts in his head won't catch up.
The first night in his new refuge, somewhere deep in some forest on some hill somewhere far away from Paradis, he dreams of his father.
He is on his knees crying and begging a blurry figure to Please, you must stop Eren!
He wakes up one hour after he laid on bed to stare at the ceiling.
Grisha doesn't need to worry. He won't step on humanity. As much as he hopes every person outside Paradis' Walls would simply... evaporate, as much as he loathes how these animals tarnish this wondrous planet with their filthy existence; he cannot kill everyone.
He shouldn't have to kill anyone. It's unfair. Why do Eldians have to become slaves or monsters just to breathe in this god-forsaken world? Why does he have to make the choice to doom his friends or kill indiscriminately? Why does he have to find the solution to an endless circle of hate? Why does he have to carry this unbearable burden?
No, his father can rest in peace.
No one needs to stop him. He has already stopped himself.
The first night they think someone discovered their hiding place - but in the end it was only a disoriented hunter who needed some water and a map - he dreams of Sasha.
She's on a blimp smiling goofily at the thought of all the delicious meat she'll savor once they land... until there's a hole in her chest and she's smiling no more.
He wakes up screaming, loud enough for Mikasa to run to his side from her room and hug him tightly to comfort him. She must be saying something. In the back of his mind, he can perceive her soothing voice, but he cannot hear her.
Was this a future memory or a harmless nightmare? Is this just another fantasy his subconscious conjured up to remind him of the cost of his selfishness? Is it a tragedy just waiting to happen? Will Sasha die if he doesn't return to Paradis to carry out his original plan? Will Sasha die if he does return to Paradis to carry out his original plan?
Are his friends being slaughtered as he's enveloped in Mikasa's warmth?
"I'm here for you, I'll always be right here." she tells him and he feels her silent tears wetting his shirt.
She never coddles him with lies like It's all going to be ok, and he's grateful.
Through the good times and the bad times, she just loves him, he just loves her, and that should be enough.
The first night he falls asleep naked in Mikasa's bed, he dreams of Armin.
It's the less gruesome, the less terrifying of the three recurring nightmares related to his... best friend, which he's been plagued with ever since he abandoned him without a word.
No, a sane person most likely wouldn't even classify this one as a nightmare.
He still wakes up sweaty and breathless.
In the most common nightmare, but only second most cruel, Armin is chained in a similar position, like he himself was in the Reiss' temple, waiting to be eaten by the next Honorary Marleyan in line to inherit the Collosal; Paradis has fallen, and Armin is now prey at the enemy's mercy, because he wasn't there to protect him.
In the most cruel, but only second most common nightmare, Armin stands in the sea. His uniform is soaked in blood, the water is dyed red, human limbs are floating all around him. And Armin is only glaring at a seashell in his palm... until he clenches his fist and crumbles it.
Just like all his other dreams, these might be memories from the future.
Right now, as he takes Mikasa's hand off his chest, careful not to wake her and exits the cabin to relish in the light night breeze, Armin at best hates him, at worst doesn't breathe.
Or maybe he's just fallen asleep with someone's hand over his chest too.
(Why does that matter at all?)
In tonight's choice, the less common, and less cruel of the three nightmares, Armin is laughing. Genuinely, wholeheartedly, like he hasn't seen him do in years, as he walks down some shore, holding someone's hand.
He can never tell whose hand it is. He can only tell it's not his own.
.
.
.
"We can talk about it." he hears Mikasa say from behind him, and only then does he realise he's dug his nails so deep in his fist, it started bleeding.
He turns to look at her, ever flawless in her glimmering, battle-hardened skin and luscious black hair, and smiling softly. He's given her more than he's ever given anyone else. It still doesn't feel enough. She deserves more. He can't exactly explain that feeling, but somehow he's certain: she deserves something he cannot give her.
The first night he stares at their door for reasons he has no right to, he's sitting across Mikasa by their fireplace.
He's curled on his armchair, covered with a light blanket and she's sewing a rip on her scarf. He's offered to buy (or steal, if he must) a new one for her (as many new ones as she wants) but she vehemently refused to let go of it.
Part of him is truly glad that she still treasures the memory of their first meeting, even when it happened immediately after one of the most traumatic experiences of her life.
And yet... at times... it transforms before his eyes. From an innocent gift of one child trying to comfort another child in pain, it turns into a thick, heavy, red shackle around her neck.
Surely, such worries are meaningless. Mikasa was clear to him on that night before they left everything behind. He does not chain her down, she doesn't feel obligated to protect him because he saved her back then; she just loves him. She simply loves him more than he will ever deserve.
But... the true nature of the Ackerman clan is still a mystery. Nine years ago in that cabin, something awakened in her; just like it happened with... Captain Levi, who was hellbent on protecting Commander Erwin, and supposedly with that bastard Kenny and that King Reiss. Can anyone prove that their unwavering loyalty is a consequence of their free will and not their genetic predisposition? What if he's truly enslaving her, just by existing? What if she has no choice but to love him?
Yes, justifiably, sometimes that feeling won't subside. Sometimes, just the sight of that scarf... infuriates him.
.
.
.
Not tonight.
In fact, tonight he wishes the scarf triggered any emotion.
It'd be certainly better than... this...
He turns his head towards the fire, the flames dancing rhythmically, graceful carnivores devouring their prey.
Like the wolf he found last week in the forest ceremoniously ripping a rabbit apart. He'd frozen on the spot. He thought the wolf would try to prey on him, but transforming would draw unwanted attention and it's been a while since he fought anything without his Titan powers. But the wolf only glared at him, as if in internal conflict on how to react. And then, as if enchanted, as if someone else was pulling the strings of his body, he moved closer. His heart was racing, in the back of his mind, he knew, it was a thoughtless decision. The wolf would probably feel threatened and attack. But it didn't. The wolf abandoned its breakfast and went on its way.
Ever since he's been wondering: Why didn't it attack? Wasn't he prey or danger? Then, what was he? Why did it give up what was rightfully its own? Why didn't it fight?
Ridiculous. Why does he even care? Why did he provoke the wolf?
Or did he? Was that reality or was he just daydreaming a memory of an event he's never lived again?
Did it happen last week? A month ago? An eon ago? Who knows...
Tonight is just like yesterday and the night before yesterday and the night before the night before yesterday...
All the same.
It's not because they've been mostly restricted in the cabin for the past five days due to the heavy thunderstorm. He wants that to be the reason, but it isn't.
He's felt it before -
(during showers, after spending the afternoon gardening or hunting or fixing the roof; after meals, when Mikasa insists on washing the dishes and he's left glaring at the wooden table like it's his nemesis; after Mikasa falls asleep in his arms, and he just stares at the opposite wall for hours before his body eventually shuts off; during quiet evenings by the fire, like tonight)
- this nonsensical emptiness, this detachment, and behind it all, this subconscious wish that... something would happen.
.
.
.
But this time, Armin is not running to him with some book full of mysterious wonders and eyes flooded with excitement and hope and -
This time, Armin is not barging through that door to promise him that there’s meaning to this life. There's meaning in their pain and in their struggles; because one day, the world will be theirs to conquer; one day, they'll be who they're born to be; one day, they'll be the masters of themselves.
No. He wouldn't even have to do all that. Just opening the door is enough.
Right now, just seeing Armin is enough.
.
.
.
And just the thought is pure hypocrisy.
Armin might be the holiest person in his hell, but he's still part of it. And wherever Armin goes, his hell follows.
So, why is he staring at the door?
Armin cannot open the door, because he is the one who closed and locked it behind him, out of nowhere, without offering any explanation, to escape his hell with Mikasa.
He chose for nothing to happen.
Why is he -
"Done." Mikasa all but whispers, puts her sewing kit on the small table between them, and wraps her scarf around herself. And just like that, she glows.
His pulse beats like crazy in his ears.
There's no telling what he is willing to do for her to be this happy forever.
There's a reason why he ever thought he could live behind this locked door as long as she is beside him - she, who was willing to throw the door's key away the instant he took her hand and ran.
There's a reason why she has thrown the key away.
So, there's a reason why he hasn't.
The last morning in his fragile illusion of normalcy, he's chopping wood in their yard.
It's freezing. The sun shines gloriously above him but the mountaintops surrounding them are covered in snow, his fingers are blue, his breaths are visible.
He relishes in the complete absence of thought. The task at hand is all that matters... until a bird lands on his pile of cut logs.
It inspects the area, then him, and in less than a minute it flies off again; over the forests and the mountain guarding their hiding spot, over humanity itself.
The axe slips from his hands and his eyes follow the bird's trajectory till it's lost in the horizon.
Up there, it is bound by nothing.
It must know... how it feels. (He doesn't. He's never felt it. He'll never feel it.)
But to survive, it will have to land to the ground eventually. And if it lands, most likely some predator will feed on it or some hunter will shoot it down.
Only if it could exterminate all its enemies, then it could be truly free.
.
.
The next time he glances at the cabin behind him, the woman he loves most in this world resting in it, he loathes it.
.
.
Funny how the truth is always right in front of his eyes, yet he rarely finds it in time.
He was born cattle in a cage destined to become food for man-eating monsters. There was happiness and love in that cage, but it was still a cage. He rejected it. Only to realise it was actually a small cage inside an endless cage, that he was born cattle in the farms of humanity. Living to die for their sake. Every fiber of his being rejected it. But the price for freedom was too high to pay, so he ran back to a small, golden cage within the endless cage, patiently, obediently awaiting death.
He traded the life of cattle for the life of cattle.
Is this loop really inescapable? Is he really doomed to run from one cage right into another?
It's not the first time. He's done it before. Back in Trost, during his mission to seal Wall Rose, when his consciousness got lost somewhere between light, foreign muscle.
It's what he does, it seems. When he had a home full of love, he wanted to leave it behind. But when reality becomes insufferable, he seeks that warmth, that safety, that certainty all over again... until fatefully -
The outside world must be full of wonderful places. Eren, wouldn't it be great if we get to explore them one day?
- Armin.
He's never settled before. Can he suddenly settle now?
.
.
.
No.
The one who sees all those places will be truly free. They promised. They are supposed to be free together.
What did he expect? When was anything ever easy?
The right to freedom was always priceless.
All he has to do is pay the price.
.
.
.
That is what he writes in his farewell letter. Surely, Mikasa will understand; even if he leaves for Marley in the middle of the night without kissing her one last time; even if she comes to hate him for everything they ever were.
He's lost enough time wallowing in his misery, forsaking everyone he loves, allowing the world to step over him, choosing to be cattle.
He closes his eyes and breathes in the cold air of the still, December night. (Who knows, maybe Reiner will dream of him tonight.) And just for a few minutes, he feels lighter.
This rage crawling underneath his skin is familiar, like a limp he hadn't realised was gone until it grew back. He's almost missed it.
He's been that way since birth. He's known for a while. As hard as he tries, he cannot change who he is.
And the world might not bear who he is.