Eren got a strong sense of déjà vu as he walked through the steel doors.
Despite being "familiar" with Armin—as well as the added security measures given in the form of armed escorts—the brunette was nervous as hell. It had been three months since the incident, and things were bound to be different—he's been locked up in the place he feared most, after all…
Please…please don't make me go to time out…
But Eren couldn't deny that he thought that Armin deserved it, at least a little. He tried to kill his sister, after all—though, technically it was in self defense, and Mikasa had actually admitted to the crime…
…and because of that she was in the very same mental institution he was sitting in right this very moment, probably sitting there alone in a cell.
And it's my fault, he added grimly to himself.
No…it was partially hers as well—she decided to kill Armin's grandfather, and then attack him in his own home (well, technically it was Marco's home, but he was welcomed there so it might have felt like his as well) so she was also just as responsible.
And she did it for me, he thought morosely, therefore still making it my fault.
Before he could continue to run himself in circles, a booming voice cut through his thoughts.
"Bring him out."
The area they were meeting was vastly different from when they first met. Instead of the rather cozy looking cell, they were brought into a room strikingly similar to an interrogation room—one-way window included. It made him extremely uncomfortable, but he got a feeling that that may actually be the point as he settled down into one of two seats facing a table.
A loud slamming of another door knocked him out of his thoughts, and two more men dragged a familiar blonde bound in a straight jacket to the other seat.
"Here he is," a familiar voice boomed through an intercom, "You have ten minutes."
Eren stared at the blonde, taking in his appearance. "You look…better…"
Despite his healed injuries, Armin looked like shit. He had bags under his wide eyes, his skin was as white as paper, and an unsettling smile graced his exhausted face. His hair was disheveled and dirty, and his small, frail frame was shaking uncontrollably with what had to be barely controlled laughter.
"Really?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Or…are you just saying that because you've nothing else to say?"
Swallowing a bout of nausea and guilt, the brunette pressed on as he awkwardly shuffled his papers on the table. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright with—"
"Cut the shit," the blonde interrupted, "you…you're here to ask why I almost killed your sister again, aren't you?"
There was a loud rip and Eren noticed that he had mistakenly ripped one of his notes. "Shit…" he cursed, setting the paper down and forcing himself to take a deep breath. "I…I just wanted to ask about the entire incident in general, as well as your take on it."
"Your sister knows what happened, doesn't she?" Armin asked, his grin disappearing. "She confessed to everything—unless you're still desperately trying to prove her wrong and clear her name. Everyone knows what happened, so it's pointless."
"Mr. Arlert," Eren forced out through gritted teeth, "please remain professional."
The blonde studied him for a moment as something dangerous flickered in his tired, baby blue eyes. "You're an interesting person," he said, smiling again. "You're strong, yet you act like you're made of paper.
"Mr. Arlert—"
"But," the blonde continued, staring at him with those lifeless eyes and that unsettling smile. "That makes you a weakness."
Eren blinked at that statement. "A…what?"
The blonde laughed quietly at his confusion. "Those who are strong are weaknesses to others, because they draw strength from them. If they fall, then the weak fall as well. They do all they can for the strong in an effort to be strong, but it's all for nothing—I know that because I'm weak and your sister destroyed my only source of strength in my life because she's weak."
Rip! There went another page. Dammit…
"You said you wanted my take on what happened?" Armin asked, tilting his head again as his eyes became more and more lifeless and unnerving. "You made your sister weak. You made her want to become strong, which became her undoing—she's a resident here now, correct?"
Rip! "You'd better watch your words, Armin Arlert," he growled, "one word from me and you'll be dragged back down to your little hell to suffer in silence."
Armin's grin and eyes widened at the threat, paying him no heed. "How does it make you feel, Eren Yeager?" the blonde asked almost sweetly, "The fact that you drove your beloved sister to madness?"
Rip! "That was all your doing," Eren growled, "You tortured her."
"'You know I love you…'" the blonde quoted, his smile widening as he batted his eyelashes in a hideous attempt at impersonating his sister. "'He hurt my Eren…'"
Riiip! How the hell did he hear that conversation!? Did it have to do with him sneaking off to Mikasa's room? Or did he somehow overhear? Shaking his head, Eren took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself down. He's been trapped in hell for months, he reminded himself, Of course he's regressed a little…
Even so, the brunette couldn't lie—any fondness he had for the blonde was rapidly vanishing with this conversation. It didn't matter how close he got to him, he'd still be messed up in the head—nothing can change that.
Have you ever stopped and wondered what made him that way?
"You know," Armin said, pulling Eren back from his thoughts. "You guys always seemed so close…I wonder how close you even are to each other…"
"You're pushing your luck Mr. Arlert," The brunette growled. What the hell happens to him down there? He asked himself, does him being alone do that much damage?
For some reason that didn't sound right.
The blonde laughed again. "You think I care? I'm going to be thrown back down to my cell once this is over, so I might as well have fun while I'm free, right?"
"Mr. Arlert…"
"I know you're adopted," he continued, paying the brunette no heed. "So…if you were to be in a…say romantic relationship—"
"Mr. Arlert—"
"—it wouldn't be incest," he finished, "so tell me—do you want to be in a romantic relationship with her? I know she does—with the whole 'my Eren' and all—"
"We're done here," Eren interrupted tersely, reduced to physically restraining himself to not snap the blonde's neck right then and there.
The blonde suddenly stood and lurched forward, prompting the two bodyguards to grab him. "Be as strong as you want!" he shouted, struggling fruitlessly against the two men. "It doesn't matter what anyone else says, I didn't break her—you did! 'I'm not your Eren'—you knew how possessive she was of you and you tore her apart with just one SENTENCE more than I ever could with a thousand KNIVES!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Eren yelled, slamming his fists onto the table. "You—YOU don't know SHIT!"
"You're her WEAKNESS!" the blonde screamed back, voice rising with uncontrolled giggling. "It doesn't matter what I've done—you'll get her killed, don't you see?! It doesn't matter how strong you are, you'll always—ALWAYS—make the ones you love fall! You're a WEAKNESS Eren Yeager! A WEAKNESS! Just like my…"
And just like that, the giggling stopped as the blonde became dead weight in the guard's arms. "My…my grandpa…he…he was mine…"
Armin's eyes became unfocused as the two guards hoisted him back upright. "I…I got him killed…" he whispered, "He…he did it for me…"
Eren stared down at him as he stared off into space. "I…I guess we're all weak, aren't we?" Armin asked, looking completely and utterly defeated—his eyes were dull and lifeless as he hung limp in the guard's arms, his head hanging low and lolling from side to side like that of a broken Marionette.
"I…I don't think it's that we're weak," Eren said slowly, "I think…it's that we're human."
There was a long silence between the two, and Eren saw the tears that welled up in Armin's eyes.
"Human…?" the blonde asked uncertainly, still gazing into nothing. "I'm…"
"Human," Eren affirmed, "You may not have been treated as one, but you still are one."
There was another pregnant pause, and suddenly the voice on the intercom ripped them both from their thoughts.
"Your time is up," the voice boomed, "Take him back to his cell."
With that, there was nothing Eren could do as the two guards dragged the shell-shocked blonde back into hell.
"Hello Allison."
The blonde woman jumped in fear at the figure sitting directly across from her. She didn't recall ever seeing him sit down—or seeing him ever before. He looked friendly enough—dark hair, kind eyes, and a face full of freckles lightly sprinkled across his face made him look the polar opposite of dangerous.
However, the eye-patch kind of killed the "innocent" look.
"Who the hell are you?" Allison demanded, "I think you have the wrong table."
"Oh, I know I have the right table," the man said, smiling kindly. "And who I am isn't important."
The woman glared at him. "What are you getting at? Do I need to call the authorities?"
"No, I wouldn't recommend it," the man replied, "Because who you are is important, Allison."
"H-how…how do you even know my name?" she demanded, "Who are you!?"
"Just a friend of a relative."
Her brain worked at a million miles per hour—her dad had just died, and her only other living relative was…
"My entire family's dead," she replied bluntly, "I don't have any relatives! Just who the fuck do you think you are!?"
"Just someone helping out a friend," the man replied, his kind smile still in place.
The woman was getting sick of this man's mind tricks. "I'll only ask one more time," she growled, "Who are you?!"
"I guess I'm not as good at being cryptic as my friend is," the man laughed, scratching his head.
"Whatever," the woman muttered, "Just answer the damn question!"
The man laughed again as he put out a hand for her to shake.
"I'm Marco Bodt," he said, "Nice to meet yo
