Chapter Text
Your life began when you met Annie Leonheart.
She knew this very well, and she would spend the rest of her life regretting it.
Were there other ways she could have helped? Marley's propaganda never once appealed to her, especially since her father always framed it as a mere source of wealth. As long as her combat skills were up to par and she never strayed from the mission assigned, there was nothing else expected. Despite Marley's advanced technology, they lacked mind-readers, machine or human. To this day, she still wasn't sure why she fought.
For her father? Perhaps, although not in a motivational sense.
For her country? Her country? The country that deported her to a shitty internment center? No.
For herself? What was there to gain?
She supposed there was no reason. She fought because she had been trained to.
You, on the other hand, were just as bad as Reiner. It was astounding that someone with your level of intellect managed to be so, so stupid.
While Reiner had no dad—and after seeing the deadbeat in person, his desire to be a hero turned obsessive—Bertholdt had a sick one, and Annie herself had one whose sole motivation in life was to have it made, your family was picture-perfect. No warrior candidates? That didn't matter: no one minded, you most of all. You would've been a doctor, following the footsteps of your mother and father before you.
No, you were worse than Reiner. It was Annie this, Annie that. If you had been blinded by your ideals for a country, Annie supposed it was inevitable. Most kids had leapt to point fingers at their distant relatives, who supposedly put them in these living situations.
You loved your living situation. You lived in a two-story house with a pharmacy on the first floor. The ginger cat with black stripes sometimes greeted patients by jumping off the balcony. Damn cat. It'd scratched her on the face once, before you swept it into your arms and berated the animal.
It could also be the cat's fault. If it hadn't been there, you wouldn't have met her, or even known her until she had left for Paradis.
As it were, cat or not, on April 2nd, 840, Annie Leonheart changed the trajectory of your life.
(According to Eren Jaeger, the trajectory of your life was already carved in stone. Nothing Annie did could alter the outcome.)
"I'm so sorry!" you chirped, before poking the cat between his eyes. "Prior, we talked about this. You're giving Papa more work if you injure the people who come to visit him." The cat purred and nuzzled your finger. It then leapt out of your grasp and began a brisk stroll.
Annie looked at the door. She was already regretting slowing down.
Too late. She heard you starting again. "Like I said, I'm really sorry!" Before she could step away, you were hovering in front of her. Your noses were an inch apart. "Will you come inside? Papa is busy, but I can take care of you for now. It should only take a few minutes."
"Annie!" a boy yelled, his obnoxious persistence forcing its way down the street. He waved as if she could've possibly missed him. "I came—" he panted, trying to pull air into his lungs, "to visit you." He looked up. "Annie?" Accusing eyes landed on you. "Who's this?"
You opened your mouth in a stupor.
"Some brat?" he snapped. "Don't waste your time." Like mold, a smirk crawled across his face. "You're too good for kids like her."
It was always the same. What did too good even mean? Always someone pulling at her to do better things. Always noise in her ear.
"Fuck off," she said.
He blinked, then laughed. "Why should I? I came all this way for you, Annie." His hand left his side, reaching for her shoulder.
Annie always prided herself on her precision. Then, however, she felt no pride, only irritation. Her leg shot up, heel finding the upper right abdomen. She made sure to drag down, intending to hurt the liver under.
When his body let out its first wheeze, Annie resumed her previous stance. "I told you to go." As expected, he finally listened.
Annie let her shoulders drop the smallest fraction, already calculating how much time she'd wasted. She needed to see the doctor, not deal with idiots who thought pestering her was a show of affection. She didn't have time for this. She never had time for this.
"Woaaaah!"
Her head snapped toward the noise.
You were glowing, hands clapped together the way one prays. Not again, Annie thought. Not another one. Can't anyone in this town just keep their mouth shut for once?
"That was amazing!" you gushed, practically bouncing in place. "You just— You didn't even hesitate! And he was there and then you— bam! You made him run off! You're— Woah—"
Annie felt her teeth grinding. She needed to move. She needed to go to the doctor and now she had you blocking the doorway with all sorts of blinding enthusiasm.
Don't stop me.
Don't talk to me.
Just let me walk past; go on with your little life.
You darted in her way, some overeager stray. "Will you come inside now? Papa's still busy—" You pointed at the closed door. "—but your face is still bleeding."
She stiffened. Bleeding? The cut barely registered; she'd forgotten about it until now.
Her eyes flicked toward the door just behind you. If she timed it right, she could sidestep and—
"Please let me! It's the least I can do, since you saved me from that boy. I know what I'm doing, I promise! Papa's been training me for when I become a doctor. You were just there like, whoosh!" You mimed her kick, clumsy and graceless, nearly tipping over. Never embarrassed, you just laughed at yourself.
"Darling, are you alright?" The doctor ushered away his last patient, and your giggling figure in the process. "Ah, Annie. I see Prior got to you. I am terribly sorry. We do need to keep him on a tighter leash."
Annie didn't answer. She never replied to statements like those, full of apologies, full of sympathy. All she needed was to get her knee checked. After that, she could get back to training.
Your voice carried over him, loud and insistent. "Papa! I was going to help Annie with her cut. She saved me!"
Save you? Annie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What an idiot. All she'd done was get rid of some idiot that was bothering her. You never factored into the equation. It wasn't saving; yet you were beaming at her as if she'd hauled you out of a burning building. Those damn eyes of yours made her uncomfortable. They seemed to be peeling at layers she hadn't agreed to give.
"Annie could save all of us," your father said. His voice held conviction; enough conviction that, for half a second, Annie almost believed him. Her chest tightened, and she hated herself for it.
Save all of us.
No, that wasn't her job. Her job was to do exactly as Marley commanded, because her father had said so. Standing there, with your father's faith settling across her shoulders, Annie felt herself begin to squirm.
"Me?" she found herself saying, the word slipping out.
Your father's warm smile didn't falter. "Yes. Come along, I can see my daughter has been wearing you down."
That earned a little snort from you. Annie turned her head away quickly.
Wearing her down—was that what this was?
Frankly, you were worse than Reiner. He wanted to help his mother. From then on, you wanted nothing more than to follow Annie. Everywhere.
Annie hadn't meant to let you tag along after training that day. Actually, she didn't let you. You just climbed up the wall after the guard said others weren't allowed inside and managed to hang there for the better part of two hours. She hadn't meant to let you do a lot of things; somehow, you kept wriggling your way in.
By the time night began to set, the other kids already knew you were impossible to shake. If Annie was running drills alone, there you were on the edge of the field, waving both arms and cheering her name. You did so with a fervor that was better suited to reunited lovers from year-long voyages instead of a five-minute spar. If Annie stayed late for conditioning, you stayed too (even though you weren't even part of the program), doing clumsy pushups on the cobblestones, your little voice going, "If you can do fifty, I can do fifty!"
“You’ll do zero,” Annie shot back, not slowing.
Both of you were wrong. You collapsed at seventeen. She counted.
"Go home," Annie muttered, nudging you with the toe of her boot as you sprawled out on the stones. You were barely breathing.
"I'll go where you go," you answered, face pressed against your sleeve.
Annie scowled. "That's stupid."
"Then I'm stupid." You rolled over, grinning up at her. "I do it for you, Annie!"
She pinched the bridge of her nose. Why were you so happy about being called a fool?
You scrambled up to your knees, almost toppling over. "You're the strongest, Annie. You don't care what other people think! I decided I'm gonna follow you forever. You're my hero!"
Hero? No one called Annie Leonhart that. Orphan, yes. Bastard, yes. Scum, yes. Hero? Never.
"You're wasting your time, idiot," Annie said. "I don't want you to follow me. Find someone else to bother."
She wasn't as good at evading attention. When Annie got home, the sun had gone, and the single bulb in the ceiling flickered with the desperate buzz of a dying insect. Her father stood in the middle of their cramped apartment.
"You're late."
"Training ran long," Annie murmured automatically, trying to step past him toward her room.
His hand shot out, clamping down on her shoulder so hard her knees began to buckled. "Training doesn't 'run long.' It runs fast if you're fast. Were you fast?"
She hesitated, which in itself was a mistake. The slap came sharp and sudden, snapping her head to the side. The cat had pounced on the same spot.
"Pathetic," he spat. "Do you think Marley needs another weakling? Do you think I break my back for you just to have no reward?"
"I'll do better," Annie whispered. The words tasted bitter, as usual.
"You'll do better now," Leonheart said. He shoved her past the table and into the hallway where there was more space to move. Annie stared downward as they walked, counting the number of steps.
"Show me your stance."
Annie dropped into position, with her feet set and fists up.
His foot sprung into action, sweeping hers out from under her. "Too high. You'll get knocked on your ass." Annie's palms smacked into the ground. "Up."
She scrambled back to her feet.
"Punch."
She obeyed, aiming for the shield on his forearms. He dodged easily.
"Again."
She bit down on her tongue. This time, he allowed her to strike, driving her fist forward until her knuckles had burn marks from the old fabric he made her strike. Over and over. Left, he barked. Right. Left. Right.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
He wasn't even tired.
"Now kick."
She kicked. Leonheart stood unimpressed as Annie forced her shin against the padded material. One bad angle made her ankle sing. She wanted to hiss in pain but didn't. He hated that sound.
"Faster. You think a Warrior candidate gets tired? You think they'll wait for you to catch your breath?"
Annie was good for her age, better than most, but she was no match for the stamina of a grown man. Her calves shook uncertainly.
"Drop. Push-ups."
What could she do but drop? At twenty, her elbows gave out and her chin caught against the rocks. Something dug into her ribs.
"Up. Again."
Her father crouched over her. "Get up now. You have training tomorrow. Remember, Annie, if you fail, you're nothing. This will have been for nothing."
She fell back against her bed, sweat cool in the night air. Her father's words bounced around her skull.
Nothing.
Annie lay on her mattress, staring at the uneven ceiling. Her fists throbbed in rhythm with her still-raised heartbeat. The room smelled faintly of mildew and iron. For a while, there was nothing but the ache of her body. This was how she was lulled to sleep, by her own numbness. Then, as unwanted as your earlier intrusion, your voice floated back.
Then I'm stupid, you'd said, red in the face from exertion.
I'd do it for you!
I'd follow you anywhere!
You're my hero!
Hero.
She couldn't find it in herself to laugh. The sentiment came out as a dry exhale through her nose. Hero? Up until now, she'd always been a tool for her father. What worth did you have unless you were useful?
Turning to her side, Annie buried her face in the wheat-sack turned pillow. It didn't help. She still heard your earnest declarations, completely unguarded. Like you believed it. Like you believed she was worth something.
Annie scowled into the fabric until her jaw began to ache.
"Idiot," she whispered.
She couldn't shake the feeling. Sleep finally came; it stayed with her unwillingly.
Hero.
What a joke.
Back then, she'd told you to find someone else to bother.
At the time, Annie didn't think you'd take it so seriously. When she caught sight of two figures the next day, she thought it was just another one of those scuffles kids got into over food or something. Porco was there, and Porco was hardly a model son. The anomaly was you, flat on your back.
"C'mon," you demanded, grabbing Porco's knee to help yourself up. "Again."
Porco looked far too uncomfortable for someone who'd initiated a fight. "Uh. Can I stop now?"
You shook your head. "No! Keep going! I can take it!"
Annie blinked. Was this a joke? Kids cried when Porco hit them. Only Annie didn't, and that was because she hit Porco first. He pulled a face and drove his fist into your shoulder. You staggered back, tenderly clutching the spot.
"Why are you letting him do that?" Annie heard herself say.
Both of you looked to her, startled.
"Annie!" you said. "I’m training! I didn't want to bother you so I asked Porco to help me get stronger so I won't be too weak—"
"Helping," Annie echoed, staring at the fresh blood trickling from your nose.
Porco rubbed the back of his neck. "She gave me candy."
"She—"
Annie couldn't wrap her head around the thought. Last night her father drove her into the dirt, ugly words and hardened knuckles drilling into her until he had to carry her to bed. She hadn't chosen that pain. It had been forced into her bones. And there was you, paying someone to beat you.
Why?
"I'm gonna be so tough, Annie. You'll see."
She made sure neither of you saw the scowl on her face, which betrayed how unsettled she was.
Crazy.
Right. That's what she told herself. You were crazy. There was no way you'd keep this up. Why would anyone willing do this? Why would anyone want to live the way she had to?
Stop looking at me like that, she thought, but the words never made it to her mouth. If she said them out loud, she might sound scared. She couldn't be scared. Instead, Annie jerked her chin toward the barracks. "Go clean yourself up before an officer sees you. You look pathetic."
"Okay, Annie! I'll see you later," you sung, skipping away.
Annie expected you to quit. Everyone did. Most kids burned hot for a day or two, trying to impress someone; their spark fizzled out when it got hard. Annie had seen it happen many times, kids swearing they'd be the next Beast, the next Colossal, only to crumble the moment an instructor barked at them. You were supposed to be the same.
Except you weren't. The next morning (and mind you, this was the third day you'd known Annie), there you were, sitting cross-legged on the bench like a stray cat waiting for scraps. There was a bandage on your nose that'd caught your hair, too. Annie refused to slow as she passed.
"Good morning, Annie!" you called, as if you were friends.
She glanced at you and kept walking.
The morning after that, it was the same spot. Did you have nothing to do? Why did you father keep letting you observe Warrior training? Annie was pretty sure she'd seen you start slipping off the wall, maybe completely falling at one point. What was there to watch?
And then you started showing up everywhere.
She spotted you talking to Porco and asking him to demonstrate the kick Annie had done earlier (which was stupid, because Porco didn't do it half as well).
She saw you waiting for her instead of your father, the doctor, at her appointment.
She told you once more to "go bother someone else." Instead of leaving like you did last time, you said:
"Nope! I like you best, Annie!"
Annoying. Unbelievably annoying.
Unnerving, too, once Annie realized you weren't just tagging along with her. You were working. Annie caught you doing pushups on random street corners, mumbling loud and inaccurate counts to keep yourself going. Running sprints against much taller boys until you collapsed and they had to come back and drag you off the pavement. Smacking sticks against trees like that would do something. Your hands started being bandaged more often than not.
And every time Annie passed by, you'd drop whatever you were doing to greet her.
Crazy. You were crazy.
It wasn't until the instructors started whispering that Annie realized that you were crazier than she'd realized.
"You better talk to your daughter," one of them said to your father. "She's been tagging along with the blonde one. The orphan. At this rate she'll want to be a Warrior, too."
Annie stiffened where she crouched outside the doorway, boots scuffed by the dirt.
"If she's that determined, maybe she's warrior material."
She didn't understand you. She didn't want to.
Your arms stopped shaking after a month of pushups, how your steps got steadier during runs. You made it routine to race Porco to the bakery. If you won, you didn't want anything. If he won, you'd buy him a pastry.
The worst part was once Annie caught herself asking the shop-owner how many pastries you'd lost. Twenty, the answer came. Twenty, but she's been winning recently. So I give her them for free. Can't have a warrior starving, can I? Not on my watch.
When she tried to return to her former numbness, she kept seeing your grin. It refused to let her rest. I'm going to be so tough, Annie. You'll see.
And then, a month later, you showed up in uniform: a provisional Warrior candidate, same as her.
You were already headed for her. She snapped, "What are you doing?"
"I got in! Well, provisionally. That's what they told me. They also said I'm really motivated and that means I'll work hard. Isn't that great? Now we can train together! We'll both be Warriors, Annie! I can follow you anywhere!"
You always spoke like there was no news more joyous. Why? Annie wondered. Why were you so happy to throw yourself into hell?
Annie scowled. "You don't even know what this means."
"Yes I do," you said. "It means my family becomes honorary people. I get to serve Marley and— And..." You hesitated sheepishly. "Um, mostly I get to be with you all the time. Isn't that the best? Don't worry, Annie! I won't drag you down!"
She blinked at you. "Idiot."
For the first time, it didn't feel satisfying to say.