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It’s a blessing, his foster parents not being home. 17 years old, he only has a few more months before the military opens its doors. Erwin has tried to get in sooner, pull some strings, even lie about his age, but it’s no use. Not that he dislikes his foster family, they’re plenty kind, but he’d set his sights on the Survey Corps years ago.
No, he’s incredibly grateful. Stumbling into the house, Erwin thanks whatever higher power may be out there for its generosity, providing him an empty home to return to. He closes the door, locking it behind him before Erwin chokes up the air he’d been holding, having breathed in the blood both trickling down his throat and face. The boy covers his mouth with his arm as to avoid splitting red across the house. With his sleeve, Erwin tries to wipe away the blood between his nose and split lip, just for more blood to dribble out from his nostrils. They always go for the fucking nose, don’t they?
Groaning, Erwin is standing up straight and making his way to his room. There’s a small limp that keeps shifting as Erwin tries to find the most comfortable way to walk. Everything hurts, he’d had his ass handed to him. Erwin had hit a massive growth spurt a year or two back, he was far from the pipsqueak he used to be. If he wanted to fight back, he could’ve. But Erwin knew better. Fighting back, in a good outcome, would have him arrested. Let them get their anger out, beat his ass, they’ll hopefully let him go. Just some nosy teenager who needed a beating to set him straight. This time hadn’t been as lucky as the last. He’d had no one to intervene. With a sigh, Erwin opens his door, closing it behind him before resting his forehead against the wood.
“Took you long enough.”
A gust of wind, his window was open.
“How are you late to your own house?”
Erwin’s blood runs cold. Speaking of having someone to intervene, Nile was coming over tonight. The memory had been beaten out of him. The blonde hears his visitor shuffling, climbing off his bed and to his side. Erwin swallows hard, cringing at the taste of iron. It’s dark in the room, but not dark enough to hide the blood and dirt he knows he’s covered in. Nile’s silence tells Erwin he’s seen it.
“Sweetheart?”
Erwin shuts his eyes tight. That ridiculous name that had just stuck. A part of him wants to turn around, seek comfort. Adrenaline is beginning to wear off, but his survival instincts are practically telling him to run. Erwin prays Marie is here, even though he knows she’s not. She’d been invited, but was busy with her sister’s recital. She wouldn’t be saving him, not that Erwin deserved her grace. This wasn’t his first time he’d found himself in this situation. Marie had been far kinder in her concern than Nile, but they were both equally afraid.
"You're gonna get yourself killed, Win." A gentle hand used her skirt to wipe away the blood pouring from his undeniably broken nose. A stark contrast to the angry eyes and crossed arms that stared holes into him from the other side of the alleyway. "You're gonna die and drag us both to hell."
A hand on his shoulder snaps Erwin from his memory, before it guides Erwin to face him, having to tug just a little to will the taller boy to turn around. Erwin relents. Cursed be the full moon, offering plenty of light for Nile to get a good look at Erwin’s bloodied face, his broken nose, his black eye.
“Erwin…”
“It’s nothing.”
“You did it again!”
There it is. Not that Erwin figured his lie would get him anywhere. Hell, it’s no surprise that Nile immediately catches on to what had happened. What else? What? His utter loser of a boyfriend had gotten into a fight with other students? Sure. He considered the lie for little more than a millisecond before deciding trying to play it off as nothing was a better fib than that. Erwin’s physique meant nothing when he was hardly found anywhere without a book in hand. He’d hoped it would be so ridiculous, though, that Nile would be momentarily distracted. Delaying the inevitable. He deserved his rage, Erwin knows it, but it that doesn’t mean he wants it, not quite yet. He wants comfort, even if he knows it’s not what he’ll get of Nile.
“Are you- Erwin, are you fucking kidding me?”
Frowning, Erwin averts his gaze. He can’t look at Nile, not like this. It’s easier to pretend the other boy is acting solely in rage, and Erwin can’t tell himself that when fear is so evident on his face, severed into every inch of his expression.
“The Military Police are hardly subtle with who they’re pinning down and where.”
An admission in its own right. Erwin had come across military police beating on a man once before. So, he’d stayed close, listened to what they were saying. Unfortunately, they’d seen him, and Erwin had gotten his own beating before Marie and Nile had stepped in upon finding him. This incident was similar, the information, though…
“That doesn’t mean you need to listen!” Shaking hands are grabbing the collar of Erwin’s filthy shirt. “How many times do they need to beat this lesson through that thick fucking skull of yours?”
“More than they already have.”
“Erwin!”
Nile’s voice breaks, as does Erwin’s heart. Like a guilty dog, Erwin refuses to look at the shorter boy. His resolve, at least whatever remains, will crumble. That, and he’s desperately trying to not cough up blood into his boyfriend’s face.
“What information is worth getting beaten within an inch of your life?” Nile’s voice is softer, though still angry. A bitter mask for fear.
“They tortured him, Nile.”
“What?”
“My father, they tortured him. I know they did.”
The information he’d overheard today, Erwin wasn’t sure if he was grateful to have gotten his hands on it. Subconsciously, he knew that already. He’d known for years. But to have direct confirmation was akin to digging fingers into wound only recently stitched up. He’d never heal, would he?
Only when Nile’s forehead rests on his shoulder does Erwin glance his way again. Hands move from the blonde’s collar to his biceps. Erwin doesn’t continue, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’d hardly had time to process everything he’d heard because of what had followed. Erwin hesitated to reach out and touch his boyfriend in return- not just because of the simmering rage, but he knows his hands are bloody.
“That’ll be you, Erwin.”
Nile breaks the silence with an exhausted tone of voice. Worry and fear seeps through the anger he’d been using to hide what remained beneath the surface. Lifting his head, their eyes finally meet. Erwin sees the way Nile’s face softens, thinks to how his father talked about his mother. You have her eyes, Winchen. I swear, she could hypnotize me. Perhaps his own gaze has the same effect on Nile, on Marie.
“Is that what you want!?”
They’d both noticed Nile’s act losing its heat. In a death rattle, the last of his rage surges, forcefully pushing Erwin into the door behind him.
“I’ll have to bury you at this rate!”
Yet another voice crack, and Erwin’s finally realizing it had never been anger, all those times Nile had chewed him out for his pursuit for answers. It has always been fear- and it had been his fault, funny enough. Here Erwin had been, telling Nile all about his father, his theories, and how they’d gotten him killed. Then, he was forcing Nile to watch him pursue those very theories. At this rate, Nile was right. He’d see Erwin dead before his 18th birthday.
“I can’t keep doing this, Erwin.”
The anger is gone, now. All that remains is sadness. Grief. Erwin is flinching, closing his eyes as if he’s been struck. Grief. Nile is already beginning to grieve him, isn’t he? Erwin’s left eye burns, god knows how long the bruise will remain.
“Don’t have anything to say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry.” It’s pathetic, Erwin knows it. The apology hardly sounds genuine, and that’s all but confirmed by the glare Erwin is met with upon opening his eyes. As if to lock him in, assure he can’t run, Erwin wraps his arms around Nile, forgetting the dirt and blood. Worst case scenario, Nile can borrow a shirt of his.
“No- no, I mean it. Nile, I’m sorry.” He’s sputtering. Erwin is still yet to grow into his silver tongue. Manipulation and lies, they don’t come naturally. “I know it’s not fair, dragging you along, making you worry.”
“Making me worry? Every day, Erwin, I’m wondering how long it is before you die in some freak accident.”
“I can’t let his death be for nothing.”
“It will be if you die before you even graduate.”
Another long moment of silence. He’s right, much as Erwin’s fixation wants to deny it. Erwin had wondered why he’d been spared of the cruelty his father faced, and truly, he could only wonder if his own death had been talked down. What were his father’s last words? Had they been pleading for the life of the son that had sentenced him to death? Erwin’s horror must have been evident somewhere in his expression, because Nile is pulling him into a hug. It’s careful, weary of any injuries he may have suffered. Erwin, on the other hand, completely disregards the state of his own body to return the embrace ever so tightly. Instinctively, he goes to nuzzle his face in the junction that connects Nile’s neck and shoulder, but chokes when he applies pressure to his broken nose. Blood splatters on the shorter boy’s shirt, although neither comment. Erwin can lend him a shirt, it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Easy now.” Nile chuckles somberly, slowly rubbing circles into Erwin’s back as the blonde opts to rest his chin on his shoulder instead.
“I’m sorry.” Erwin repeats. It’s the truth, he’s sorry for this, and he’s sorry for what’s to come. “It won’t happen again.”
Nile sighs, clearly skeptical, and he has every right to be. Erwin doesn’t plan on this again, but he sure as shit doesn’t plan on giving up, either. He’ll both see this through and keep them safe. How that can be done? Erwin doesn’t want to think about it. Selfishly, he’ll let himself have this night.
“Come on, Win.” Nile finally breaks the quiet, using his hold on Erwin to turn them around. With a brief kiss to his cleaner cheek, Nile is pulling away, one hand reaching for the doorknob and the other for Erwin’s. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Following Nile to the bathroom, Erwin squeezes his hand apologetically.