Work Text:
Eren responds the only way he knows how to: violently and loudly. He twists every way possible, screaming. “Armin! Armin! Put me down Floch, I’ll kill you.”
Floch grips him even harder, dragging him away from the rooftop where Armin, Erwin, Levi, and the titan serum were. Eren’s too far away to do anything about it, but he can clearly see Levi walk over to Erwin with the injection in hand. There’s yelling from behind him, and more hands restraining him, but his entire being is focused on the needle in Levi’s hands. It goes right into Erwin’s arm.
Eren struggles even harder. Floch is clearly struggling, and Jean and Connie can only do so much. By the time Eren breaks free, the deed is already done. Erwin has eaten Bertolt, and Armin is dead. Collapsing onto his hands and knees, Eren screams. He screams until his throat is raw, until he’s certain his voice will be gone the next day. Hot tears pour out of his eyes, like a never ending waterfall.
By the time he wears himself out, everyone has already gone back to the wall. Eren lifts his head up, tiredly scanning his surroundings. Only Mikasa is left; she’s crying too. They embrace each other, and while it’s nothing like the warmth Armin used to give him, Eren’s so tired he takes it. Anything is better than nothing, at this point.
He can’t bring himself to check on Erwin with Mikasa. She leaves him alone on the rooftop. After a few moments of careful consideration, he decides to go over to Armin. Or, more specifically, Armin’s corpse.
No one’s come to get it yet, and a voice inside Eren’s head suggests that they might just leave it here as revenge for his outlash at Levi earlier. Gritting his teeth, Eren shoves the thought out of his mind. He sits down on the roof, gently putting his hand on top of Armin’s.
The temperature of his lover’s hand was strange. It was cold, because Armin’s hands had always been icy, and because he was dead. At the same time, the hands still felt warm, maybe because he was blasted with flaming hot steam until he eventually burned to death. Temperature is the last thing on Eren’s mind as he carefully intertwines their fingers, an action that had always calmed Armin down. It’s the only kind of comfort Eren can give him.
A few quiet moments pass like that, before Eren hears footsteps behind him. Quickly spinning around, he raises his hand to his mouth, before realizing that it was only Levi and Hange. He sees the two of them flicker their eyes between his and Armin’s joined hands and then to Eren. They were looking at him like he was a kicked puppy.
“Eren, let’s go.” Levi sounds the same as ever, emotionless. He doesn’t sound happy that Erwin survived, yet he also doesn’t sound sad that Armin didn’t. Eren wonders if Levi still has a heart, or if all the death the captain has seen caused him to put up so many walls that his emotions were better secured than Eren’s basement.
“Go where?” Eren asks. He lets go of Armin’s hand, but still protectively holds a hand out, blocking the blond out of Hange and Levi’s views. “Are you making me abandon him twice?”
“We aren’t,” Hange speaks slowly, as if they’re afraid Eren will break if their words get too rough. “But we need to finish our mission. Let’s go to your basement.”
“Even after everything that happened, you’re still thinking about the basement?” Eren scoffs. “Armin’s dead!”
Something in Levi snaps. He charges forward and yanks Eren away, before roughly slamming their heads together. “Are you listening to yourself? Armin, Armin, Armin. He’s not the only one dead. We lost almost the entire Scout Regiment today.”
“I loved him, captain” Eren hisses. His attempts of squirming out are futile. “He was everything to me.”
“Do you know why Armin didn’t let go, Eren?” Hange speaks suddenly, eyes laser focused on Armin’s burnt corpse. “He wanted to give you a chance to see the ocean, and the key to the outside world may quite literally be in your basement. This is crucial.”
Eren goes limp in Levi’s hold. The two older scout members peer at him curiously, before Levi drops Eren to the ground. His throat is too raw to scream again, but he tries to do so anyway. Tugging his hair, Eren screams. He sounds more like a strangled animal than a grieving human. It’s only one scream this time, and when he looks back up at Levi and Hange, there’s a new fire in his eyes.
“Promise me we’ll come back for him.” His voice is raspy, and it hurts to speak. Levi nods. They head off to his basement.
When Eren wakes up the next morning, the right side of his bed is uncharacteristically cold, a familiar warmth missing. Sitting up, he rubs his eyes, scanning the room. His throat is sore, and it hurts to speak. “Min? Armin? Where’d you go?”
It takes a few moments for his sleep muddled mind to remember what happened the day before. When he does, he instantly lays right back down, burying his face into the pillow and curling up into a fetal position. He’s used to all types of physical pain, but none of it compared to how strangled his heart currently feels. The pain he grew accustomed to always healed almost instantly through his titan healing, but his throat was still scratchy, and his head still pounded.
“Eren.”
His vocal cords don’t work with him, and his ‘go away’ comes out as a rough cry. Whoever’s looking for him isn’t Armin, meaning they don’t matter. The voice calls out again. Eren frowns, and reluctantly sits up. It’s Jean. His eyes are uncharacteristically filled with worry. He shifts from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable.
“They’re going to bury Armin in a bit,” Jean says. “You uh, might want to come down for that.”
It hasn’t even been a full twenty four hours yet. Everything that happened in Shaginshia is still swirling around in his mind like a hurricane. None of it seemed real, as if it were all a sick joke that Sasha and Connie decided to pull on him. As if Armin would randomly pop out from the corner and laugh at how gullible Eren was. Eren hasn’t even fully processed the fact that Armin would never know about what they discovered with Grisha’s key, and they already want to send the blond six feet under?
Still, missing the makeshift funeral would hurt more than attending, so Eren nods (not trusting his voice), and slowly gets out of bed.
The burial is a silent one, most likely because Eren’s voice had given out on him. If it were up to him, he would’ve yelled at everyone there. At Levi, for not saving Armin. At Floch, who had absolutely no right to be here, for dragging him away from Armin. At Mikasa, Connie, and Jean, for not being able to protect Armin. At himself, for being too weak. Armin had given him a speech about not being brave, but Eren of all people knew just how brave Armin really was. It was one of the many failed appeals he had shouted yesterday; Armin would be the one to save humanity.
“I’m sorry,” a voice next to him says. When he looks up, he sees Commander Shadis. “You two were practically attached at the hip during training.”
Eren responds to the commander’s sad smile with a grimace, nodding in agreement. People are slowly starting to walk away from the grave, until it’s only Eren, Shadis, Mikasa, and Jean left.
“I heard you lost your voice screaming yesterday,” Shadis gives him a small laugh. Eren’s frown deepens. “It’s not a bad thing. That’s how you cope isn’t it? By screaming.”
Eren continues nodding, hoping that it would convince Shadis to end the one sided conversation already. Shadis seems to get the hint, because he sends his condolences, bids his goodbyes, and then leaves. It’s just Eren left at the grave; he has no idea when Jean and Mikasa left. He sits down, resting his back against the grave the same way he and Armin used to sit back to back in order to catch their after a hard training session. Curling up, he closes his eyes and continues praying that this is all just a very bad dream.
Eren doesn’t visit Erwin. He can’t bring himself to look at him. Not only did he resemble Armin too much, but he was also the reason why Armin wasn’t here. In a way, it felt like Erwin was an imposter. The first time Eren sees Erwin after the incident, a month after, isn’t even intentional. He’d awoken in the middle of the night to use the restroom. Half asleep, Eren had lost his way, somehow ending up in front of Levi and Erwin’s shared quarters.
The door is cracked open, just enough for bits and pieces of their conversation to flow out. Eren peeks in sightly, and instantly regrets it. Levi’s sitting at the foot of the bed, eyes downcast. Erwin’s standing between his legs, wrapping his arms around Levi’s head and slowly bringing his head into his chest. He must’ve grown his arm back after inheriting titan healing.
“Why’d you leave in the middle of the night, bastard? You made me worry,” Levi scolds. There’s no heat in his words. Instead of sounding like Captain Levi of the Scouts, he sounded domestic, like a concerned mother making sure her son was alright. Snaking his arms around Erwin’s waist, he sighs. After Erwin’s muffled apology, the room is silent.
Eren shifts uncomfortably. He’s seen this scene thousands of times already, Armin would often wake up in the dead of night and wander off somewhere, making Eren panic every time he couldn’t locate the blond right away. Armin would always come back, and the two of them would go back to sleep. It’s now that the realization that Armin is really, truly gone slams into Eren like a freight train. Before, he was able to hold onto some sliver of hope that Levi may have chosen Armin over Erwin. Now that he’s seen Erwin alive and well he’s no longer able to continue giving himself false hope. Perhaps that was why he had held off on visiting Erwin for so long. It made things all the more real.
Eren grimaces, and walks away. After using the restroom, he goes deeper into a forest, until he’s sure no one will hear him. He screams.
When Eren finally sees the ocean, he doesn’t scream. He stays on his horse, looking out at the gentle waves rolling onto the sand in a trance. The water is clear. The sky is cloudless. It’s so blue that it screams Armin.
The rest of the scouts have wandered off somewhere, most likely playing in the water. Very faintly, Eren can hear them laughing. He doesn’t join them. Once he dismounts his horse, he walks off somewhere secluded, continuing to aimlessly stare into the water. A heavy hand on his shoulder brings him out of his daze.
His jade eyes meet sky blue. It’s Erwin. Even a year after Armin’s death, Eren still can’t bring himself to look at his commander. The hair and eyes resembled Armin too much. He quickly looks away, suddenly fascinated with a sea shell at his feet.
“Armin would’ve loved it here,” Erwin says softly. Eren’s jaw tightens. He knows there was no foul intention behind the remark, but it angers him nonetheless.
“Don’t talk about Armin like that. He was the one that wanted to see the ocean. This was his dream, not yours. Your dream didn’t even go beyond the walls.” Roughly pushing the hand off his shoulder, Eren turns around to grab Erwin by the collar of his shirt. He laughs bitterly. “All you wanted to live for was my basement. Armin should be here to see this, but he’s not. Why? Why isn’t he here, Commander? Why did he have to die?”
With each word, Eren’s voice slowly gets louder and louder, until he’s yelling in Erwin’s face. His grip on the blond’s shirt tightens when he realizes Erwin’s looking at him with pity. Before he can start shouting again, two pairs of arms pry him off.
“Eren! Apologize,” Levi hisses as he squeezes Eren’s left arm. Mikasa’s holding his other arm, the two of them successfully preventing him from attacking Erwin even as he struggles in their grasp.
“Apologize?” Eren laughs. A tear rolls down his cheek and onto the corner of his mouth, which he quickly wipes away. “Why should I apologize?”
“Eren, you’re not being yourself,” Mikasa frowns. Eren would praise her for having a good eye, but he hasn’t been himself for months. His random bouts of anger are nothing new.
“It’s okay, Levi, Mikasa.” Erwin holds up a hand to signal both of them to stop. “This is how he copes.”
“Let go of me,” Eren growls. He manages to slip out of their hold, falling onto his hands and knees. Water splashes everywhere, and the shell from earlier cuts into his pinky. Without another word, he picks up the shell and walks away.
Nobody follows him, which is good, because he wanted to be alone. He wanted to curl up into Armin’s embrace and cry to his heart’s content. He wanted to tell Armin that he was able to fulfill his dream of going to the outside world. None of that is possible, though. Eren rests against a tree, holding the shell in one hand and profusely wiping away tears with the other. His eyes are almost as wet as his clothes.
“I miss you,” He says to no one in particular as he pulls his knees up to his chest. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, the same way Armin used to. Resting his head on his knees, he closes his eyes.
It takes Eren a while to open up to Zeke. They barely found out they were brothers just a few years ago; the two of them are practically still strangers. Mindlessly throwing a baseball back and forth between each other was how they spent a majority of their time together, not counting planning an attack against Eldians. Eren’s never played baseball before, but he has a good arm, which is why Zeke snaps out of his daze when Eren misses the ball.
Zeke’s eyes are intense, eyes flickering between Eren and the ball. Eren doesn’t notice. He’s focused on a couple in the distance. The couple are a blond and a brunette, holding hands and laughing as they walk along the path.
“You know them?” Zeke asks.
“No. They remind me of someone.” Eren tears his eyes away from the couple and leans down to pick up the ball. The light laughter from the pair echoes faintly, gnawing at the edges of a memory he’s been burying for too long. He swallows, his eyes fixed on the ground as he rolls the baseball between his hands. He’s quiet for a long while, the words forming in his throat but refusing to come out easily. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, tinged with a sadness that surprises even him. “His name was Armin.”
Zeke doesn’t respond right away. He stands there, letting Eren lead. The name hangs between them, heavy and fragile, like a secret that has been kept for far too long.
“I loved him,” Eren continues, his tone soft but filled with a grief that clings to each word.
Zeke catches the next toss with more care, giving Eren the space he needs. His eyes soften, though he doesn’t offer pity—just understanding. "He must have been a great person."
“He is,” Eren smiles faintly. “He had all these big dreams he wanted to accomplish, and he always spoke so passionately. I wish I could’ve shown him the ocean. I wish I could introduce you two.”
He lifts his gaze, catching Zeke’s eyes for a fleeting moment before looking back at the couple. The ache in his chest sharpens as he remembers Armin’s smile, the way his eyes would light up whenever they talked about anything—whether it was the sea or their future beyond the walls.
"I thought I could forget... or maybe just push it aside long enough that it wouldn’t hurt so much anymore," Eren admits. His voice cracks, the grief still raw. "But seeing them—seeing anyone like that—brings it all back. It makes me realize how much I lost. How much I took away from him."
Zeke watches Eren closely, the pieces of his brother’s grief starting to come together. He can tell how much this revelation costs Eren, how deeply the loss of this Armin has wounded him. "Do you think he blames you?"
Eren hesitates. His hand clenches around the ball. "I don’t know. Maybe. But... I blame myself enough for both of us."
“Well, it’s a good thing he won’t hear about our plan then,” Zeke says softly, trying to lighten the mood.
After a moment, Eren throws the ball again, this time with more force than before. Zeke catches it smoothly, but the weight between them hasn’t lessened. If anything, it’s grown heavier. A twisted smile blooms on Eren’s face. “Yeah. He’d never let me live it down.”
Eren stood in the empty expanse of Paths, his heart heavy as he stared across the void. There, bathed in the soft light of this mysterious realm, stood Armin, his face frozen in the innocence and hopefulness that Eren remembered from long ago. But something was different: Armin hadn’t changed. He still looked like the boy who dreamed of the sea. He was the same as Eren remembered him.
The weight of Eren’s actions, of the world he had trampled under the feet of titans, pressed down on him. The Rumbling, the genocide, everything he had done felt even heavier now that he was standing before the boy who never got to see what lay beyond the walls.
"Armin," Eren said quietly, his voice trembling just slightly. "We made a promise, didn’t we?”
Armin’s eyes, wide and innocent, blinked in confusion. He didn’t know. How could he? He had been dead since Shiganshina—killed by the forces they sought to fight. The boy in front of him was nothing but a lingering echo, an untouched version of his best friend. He hadn’t witnessed the destruction of Marley, hadn’t seen Eren’s descent into madness, hadn’t lived to witness the Rumbling as it tore the world apart.
“Did we make it, Eren?” Armin asked, his voice bright with hope. “Did we see the outside world? Is it beautiful?”
Eren felt a lump form in his throat, but he forced himself to meet Armin’s gaze. The innocence in his friend’s eyes stung more than any accusation ever could. Armin was still full of wonder, still that boy who believed in the beauty of the world. The one who had never faced the bloodshed, the devastation, the consequences of his own dream.
“We made it,” Eren said, though the words tasted like ash. “We saw the ocean. It was everything you dreamed of. But after that, everything went wrong.”
Armin tilted his head slightly, a look of confusion washing over his face. “What do you mean? What happened, Eren?”
Eren clenched his fists, the anger, the frustration, the grief rising within him. How could he explain this? How could he tell his lover that the freedom they fought for had only led to death and destruction? That the world beyond the walls wasn’t some utopia waiting for them, but a cruel, violent place that demanded the ultimate price?
“I started the Rumbling,” Eren said, his voice hollow. “I sent the Colossal Titans to flatten the world. To destroy everything. I became the thing we swore to fight against. I did it because I thought it was the only way to protect the people we love. To protect Paradis.”
Armin blinked in shock, taking a hesitant step closer. “But why, Eren? We wanted freedom, not more bloodshed. We dreamed of seeing the world, not destroying it.”
Eren let out a bitter laugh, his gaze falling to the endless expanse beneath them. “I thought that if I wiped out the rest of humanity, our people would finally be safe. No one would come after us anymore. I thought it was the only way to keep our island from being trampled, from being enslaved by the rest of the world.”
“What are you talking about?” Armin whispered, his eyes widening in horror. “You killed them all, didn’t you? All those people.”
“I did,” Eren admitted. “But it’s too late to turn back now. I’ve already gone too far.”
Armin’s expression twisted with grief, a reflection of the pain Eren had been carrying. “Eren, that’s not freedom.”
Eren’s chest tightened as he forced himself to look at Armin, this version of his lover who had never experienced the horrors that came after their departure from Shiganshina. “You don’t understand, Armin. You never got to see what was really out there. The hatred, the fear. The world was never going to let us live. They saw us as monsters, and they would have come for us eventually. I had to make sure they couldn’t.”
Armin shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “No, Eren. There had to be another way. You always believed in people. You always believed we could find peace.”
“That was before I knew the truth,” Eren snapped, the bitterness seeping into his voice. “Before I knew that it didn’t matter what we did. We were born into a cruel world, and there was no place for us in it. If I didn’t do this, our people would have been wiped out. You, Mikasa, everyone. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Armin’s hand reached out instinctively, fingers brushing against Eren’s. The familiar touch sent a wave of warmth through Eren, a cruel reminder of the love they once shared. “You didn’t have to do it alone. We could have found another way. Together.”
“Armin,” Eren says quietly. “You’re dead.”
Armin’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Eren in a tender embrace. Eren stood frozen for a moment, before burying his face in Armin’s shoulder, the dam of his emotions breaking. “I’ve tried changing the future, but no matter what I’ve done nothing changes.”
“I just wanted to see the world with you,” Armin murmured, pressing his lips to Eren’s temple. “That’s all I ever wanted, Eren. To be with you.”
Eren’s heart shattered. “I know. I wanted that too. But the world wasn’t what we thought it was.”
In the silence of the Paths, Eren finally let the tears fall, clutching the memory of Armin close as the reality of his choices weighed down on him. For Armin. For the boy he loved who had dreamed of freedom but never lived to see it. For the lover who had been taken from him too soon, before the weight of the world could crush him.
As Armin’s form began to fade, the warmth of their embrace slipping away, Eren whispered, “I’m sorry, Armin. I hope wherever you are now, you’re free.”
Armin’s fading form smiled, his lips brushing Eren’s in a fleeting kiss before he dissolved into the ether, leaving Eren alone once more in the endless expanse of the Paths. The silence that followed felt heavier than ever before.