Chapter Text
They've been walking for hours, or what feels like hours.
The damp squelch of mud and crunch of leaves is all but a background noise to their ears as they continue onwards. One stiff muscled step at a time. There's been no breaks, no quiet whispers of plans on where to go or what to do. Just walking. Walking for miles upon miles without break.
A glance at his phone, which illuminates their dark surroundings, tells him it's been over seven hours.
Seven hours since he'd bludgeoned open the back of a titan's head with his favourite baseball bat. He'd discarded it at the scene, splintered in half and covered in thick red blood.
Seven hours since Mikasa had hefted Armin up into her arms. Trembling fingers clutching at the back of his neck and her gentle voice desperately attempting to reassure him that it's ok. As long as we have each other it's always going to be okay.
Even now the faint sniffle or whimper still comes from the blonde boy. In the dark the stain of blood on his clothes looks black. It makes Eren's stomach coil in disgust. If they'd been a minute late, perhaps even a mere second, god knows what would've become of his best friend.
Mikasa has Armin over her back, strong arms supporting his thighs whilst his arms are slung over her shoulders as he holds himself up. She's refused to put him down since they started their march. He doubts she'll put him down until her legs give in.
After two more hours of idle trekking they do stop. When Mikasa stumbles and Armin slips down onto a mossy patch of ground they decide it's best to rest for a few hours. Mikasa is reluctant, that's a given. She's always been stubborn but she grants Eren his wish regardless.
They locate a tree, large with spiralling branches and roots. Eren supports Armin as he limps his way towards the base and settles in between the cold wood. Mikasa watches them both silently before dragging herself up into a low-hanging branch.
“I'll take first watch,” she says, pulling her phone from the pocket of her jacket and switching on the torch, “You two get some sleep.”
The light reflects off of the wet branches of the forest, making it seem endless and that much eerier. Eren's too tired to protest. He settles down beside Armin in the nook of the trunk, cradling his arm behind the boy's head.
Armin grumbles something, reaching his hand to grasp in the fabric of Eren's shirt.
“Thank you,” he mumbles from pursed lips, shutting his eyes and taking in shallow breathes which make his whole body shudder next to him.
Eren moves his hand, lacing his fingers into the delicate hairs at the base of Armin's neck. His hand stops when it comes to a clump of blood, thick and dry. He pushes through it.
It crumbles away and sticks to the side of his fingers. He ignores the sensation, focusing on repeating the soothing gesture until the boy in his arms breathing evens and he's certain he's deep in sleep. His eyes become heavy as well and he finds himself drifting somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.
It's when a crunch of leaves sounds to the left of their make-shift camp that he's startled awake.
Mikasa is asleep, he can make out the throaty breaths of her snoring. Reluctantly he moves himself away from Armin, reaching up to slip the phone out of Mikasa's grasp, the torch still blaring brightly.
He sees nothing at first, not until there's a faint movement he spots just out of the corner of his eyes. He treads lightly, sweeping down to grasp up a fallen branch, heavy in his hands but a suitable enough weapon in the event of an ambush.
The titan stands in a clearing, scratching its hands over one of the trees repeatedly until blood starts to streak the trunk. It's close enough for him to hear the grunts it makes as it continues it's pointless activity. It's not as small as the one that made it's way into Armin's house. It's at least a foot taller, sharp fanged and red eyed.
Eren inhales deeply, lungs pulling in the icy air, and tucks the makeshift torch into the pocket of his jeans, getting a better hold of the branch.
He sprints, lungs heaving as he leaps into the air and brings the weapon down with a crack of bone and wood. They fall to the ground, both him and the titan. He brings the branch down. Again and again and again, until the titan's head is nothing but a thick mush of blood, flesh and bone on the ground before him.
With the back of his hand he rubs at the blood splatter on his cheeks, smearing it across his skin. He rises to his feet, breathing heavily and letting his grip on the branch fall.
Silently he makes his way back to the others. The only noise he audibly makes are the exhausted pants that leave him at irregular periods. The tree comes back into view, as does Armin, sitting up and blinking at him in the dark.
“Eren?” he calls quietly, voice cautious to the fact that it could always possibly be an intruder nowadays.
“Armin,” Eren replies, slipping back down beside him, “Did I wake you?”
Armin's head shakes slightly and he worms back up to the warmth of his friend, hand back at his shirt and his face pressed into his side. Eren sucks in a breath, tracing his fingers over Armin's jacket and down the curve of his spine.
“I was just worried,” the smaller boy mumbles into cotton, “Where'd you go?”
“Thought I heard something,” Eren lies, “It was nothing. You should go back to sleep. Chances are there's still a long way to walk ahead. And if we encounter any titan's I'll need you to hide. Or run. I won't let you get hurt anymore, not after today.”
Armin stiffens in his arms, pulling back and looking up at him.
“I can defend myself,” he says, “I don't want you and Mikasa putting your lives on the line for me again. For once I want to be the one to save you.”
“You and Mikasa are both so stubborn,” Eren breathes out a laugh, petting the top of Armin's head, “But telling me not to protect you is like putting a roast dinner in front of a starving man and telling him not to eat.”
“I'm sorry I'm so pathetic,” he hears Armin whisper, the words making his stomach sink.
“You're not pathetic,” he desperately wants to say, the words sitting dry on the tip of his tongue, “I'm only alive by default. I don't even have a reason to live without you or Mikasa. I couldn't even save my own mother. I'm the pathetic one.”
He can't say it though and he ends up sitting there silently until the leaves on the tree turn from grey to green and light glints down onto the forest floor through the cracks on the trees. And a woman with strawberry blonde hair and gun in her hands walks out of the undergrowth before them and the only thing he can do is stare at her in fear as he shakes Armin awake and hears the sound of Mikasa stirring above them.