a/n: Reading Schemata first is strongly recommended! Gotta be honest, this story sort of crept out of me and it's probably got a ton of errors. Please feel free to correct me if you see something that's a mess. As always, please enjoy!

Fringe

i: blank

Armin is the one who starts the conversation.

"Don't you think that Eren's changed recently?"

Mikasa looks up from her book with a raised eyebrow. "How so?"

He levels blue eyes at her, exasperated. "I'm being serious, Mikasa."

She quietly picks up her cup of tea and hums. "A bit. It doesn't matter, though."

Her roommate sighs. "I know, you and I will love Eren no mater what. I'm just having a conversation about it. So we can…" after a pause, Armin continues, "acknowledge the changes, or something."

Several sips later, the dark-haired woman says, "…He has ice powers and gold eyes sometimes."

Armin huffs, "Mikasa."

Mikasa stalls before whispering, "He's changing. In more ways than one."

"Yes," the blonde breathes in relief. "But are the changes good? I can't sleep for worrying about it."

"How am I supposed to know?" Mikasa replies, annoyed.

"The powers could only be the start of it."

She glares for a moment, and then softens once she sees how pale her friend's face is. "You have some idea about what's going on?"

"Maybe."

"Your hunches are usually correct. Tell me."

"It's not good news."

Mikasa sternly responds, "Tell me anyways."

/ /

Jean tentatively throws a leg into Eren's lap and receives a scathing glare for his efforts. It encourages him. "Fucking relax."

"You're getting dirt on my pants."

"How terrible."

Eren stands up and yanks Jean's head back by his hair. "Stop playing around."

Although it's meant to intimidate him, all it does is make Jean riled up in a way that was not at all the brunette's intention. "You know, some people might take that whole hair-pulling thing the wrong way." He smirks. "Or the right way. What's your stance, Jaeger?"

He drops his grip immediately, grinding his teeth. "Jean."

Jean turns around and slings his arms across the back of the couch. "Why are you so against this?"

With a stern, blood-curdling gaze, Eren replies, "You don't feel anything."

Between obnoxious snorts, Jean says, "Oh my god, you're one of those."

"What?" The shorter male whirls around his heel, seething.

"You think we can't fool around unless we're in love or something."

Eren roundhouse kicks Jean in the face.

/ /

"Changing?" Carla murmurs. The man nods. "I've noticed some positive things, but…"

Armin chuckles. "Sorry, I didn't mean the emotional changes."

"So then, you do think he's changed in that regard," the woman comments. The blonde sheepishly smiles in response. "Alright, I'll stop teasing you, since you seem a bit pressed. Go on, please."

"I think the increased powers, his fluctuating control, and his obsession with change all come from something within him that's…" Armin swallows and continues, "that's going to be problematic in the future. Of course, external factors, like constantly being in the midst of danger, the pull of Eren's emotional growth and withdrawal, and so forth, have a large impact on how quickly the internal change happens."

"Now, I'm no idiot, dear," Carla softly reprimands, "but you're going to have to cut to the chase. I'm an old woman now. It's hard for me to keep up."

Armin has a quiet, bitter laugh. "Sorry. I talk more when I'm nervous." After he scratches the back of his head, he takes in a shaky breath. "Ma'am, I think Eren is dying."

/ /

Jean's nose is greenish-purple and crooked when he walks into Pixis's office. Pixis laughs for much longer than is strictly necessary. Once his laughter is quieter, the old man asks, "Trouble in paradise?"

"There's no goddamn paradise."

With that, his boss shrugs and hands his employee a folder. "This is your next target. All I need is for you to keep in one place for three weeks."

He scowls. "That's a long time, even for me. Hostage?"

"Of a sort," Pixis replies. "No one's saying you have to use your powers the whole time. We'll have people on monitoring duty at odd hours, and you can always call for backup." He grins crookedly. "Then again, you have your partner."

"Chief Pixis," Jean growls. The older man throws up his hands and the ash-blonde haired man grumbles. After a moment, he digs in his breast pocket and puts his reading glasses on. "Isn't this way beneath us?"

"I'm trying to give you a break," he hums. "Try being a little grateful."

Suspicious, the younger man mutters, "Why?"

"To sort out your problems at home."

Jean flicks him off on the way out and slams the door.

/ /

Grisha takes a long look at his son from across the kitchen table, grimacing. "I thought you were handling your temper."

"He deserved it."

"You're an adult."

"He still deserved it."

The older man sighs. "I thought Jean was your friend."

Eren scowls. "We work together. I respect his work and literally nothing else. His work ethic is for shit—his attitude is worse. This is just his new thing, and I fucking hate it."

"Language, son."

"Whatever."

With a sigh, his father scribbles down a few notes and gestures for Eren to hold out his arm. He does so, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. The older man smiles. "Sympathy pain?"

"Not a chance in hell."

While continuing to run basic medical tests on his son, he keeps chatting. "You should give Jean a chance, Eren."

"Dad." Eren's voice is hard and his eyes narrow.

"You're almost thirty. Why not? Nobody says it's got to be anything serious."

Eren rips his arm away before his father can stick a needle in it to draw blood.

/ /

Levi grimaces at his phone. "Damn."

On the other end, Armin grimaces too. "What should we do? There's no way Eren's going to come out and say something's wrong."

"You're betting on him noticing," the instructor rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. "This is a thousand times worse than his stupid meltdown last year."

"I'm aware," the blonde barely keeps his voice level, "which is why I'm try to handle the situation properly this time. We can't just bet on Jean for this kind of thing again."

"Apparently, they're fighting," Levi mutters. "Hell knows if the kid would even try to help the brat."

Armin winces. "Jean means well, I think."

"Listen. I've got a couple friends that used to work for research, but one of 'em is a fucking basket case. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy to trick the piece of shit into their lair, but we've gotta try."

"You really think they can figure out what's going on and help him?"

Levi pauses, staring absently out of his window. "I can't promise jack shit, but it's better than sitting around doing nothing, right?"

/ /

"You want me to what?" Jean cradles the phone, squinting at a recipe through his glasses. Since he's only paying partial attention to Mikasa, he nearly cuts his finger. "Shit!"

"It's not that startling, Jean."

"No, that wasn't about you. Anyways, wouldn't he go willingly? What's the deal?"

Over the phone, she hesitates for a moment before answering. "I don't know. It's just a precaution. Will you help us or not?"

"I mean, sure, anything to keep myself out of danger."

"Jean." Her voice is a razor-sharp warning. "Be serious about this."

"I am serious," he mutters, going back to chopping basil. "You think he's the only one at risk? Besides, what makes you think my word is gonna cut it? Right now, I'm not exactly Eren's favorite person. Well, not that I ever am."

"I don't know," Mikasa answers quietly. "I just thought you…cared."

He's silent for a long time before he laughs derisively. "Yeah, well. Guess you'd be wrong, huh."

/ /

The brunette lounges on his instructor's couch in silence, staring out of the window. It's sunny outside, the clouds are drifting by lazily, and his pupils are dilated. For a while, he gets lost in thought. His eyes follow the clouds, waiting for the moment they pass, mouth-half open. He keeps staring, even when the sun comes and whites out his vision.

For that moment, he is at peace. His smile is soft; his daydreams don't turn into terrors. The anger inside him is quiet.

"Eren!" Levi's face comes into his line of sight, purplish from frostbite and scarred with burns. "Fucking hell." He shakes his charge until his pupils shrink and Eren trembles.

"Instructor Levi?" His voice is still distant as he comes back to earth. "I…what?"

"Fix this," he breathes heatedly.

Eren presses his shaking hands to the man's face, crying and biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. The burns recess, but the damage is still visible. With a furrowed brow, he whispers, "How long?"

"Make your question clear, shitty brat," Levi mutters back.

"How long was I…doing this, sir?"

"It started just a bit after you looked out of the window. Maybe fifteen minutes." With a sigh, he reaches out and grabs Eren's shoulder. "What happened?"

"Nothing, sir," Eren answers.

Levi glares. "You expect me to—"

"I mean it," Eren says, a haunted look creeping into his eyes. "I was happy. It was quiet. Nothing tipped me off." Looking down at his trembling hands, he whispers, "I fucked up. I thought…I was finally in control."

"Listen," Levi starts, "I didn't want to tell you this yet—" Before he can finish, Eren is running out of his apartment. "Oy!"

/ /

Can't stay, not safe.

He's running, running.

The landscape is hurtling past way too quickly. He vaguely remembers vomiting.

Apartment. Safe.

He can't remember putting a key in the door. He probably breaks it.

"Eren?"

Jean. Leave, leave, leave!

"Eren, what the hell. Are you drunk?"

No. No!

"Are you okay? Look at me."

Can't.

"Fine, just sit down, alright? I'm calling Mikasa."

Don't!

"What the hell is wrong with you? You sick?"

I need to go. I need to go. I need to go!

"Not like this, you fucking don't. Shit, I think you're running a fever."

Don't touch. Bad. Bad.

"Your eyes are all fucked up. Huge pupils. Have you been sitting in the dark?"

The sun. I need to go. Magnetism makes his bones heavy and his knees hit the ground and he snarls. Jean!

"Not like this you fucking don't."

Stop me. Save me. Get away from me. GO! I'm me, I'm me, I'm me.

"Of course you're you, you huge pain in the ass. Are you aware that you're whispering a bunch of stuff? Speak up."

Get out get out get out get out get out—

"I live here, in case you forgot."

GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT—

"Okay, that is it, I'm knocking you out."

/ /

He wakes up in a dim room that looks more like a dungeon than a hospital. He can hear a few quiet voices in the distance.

"Don't worry," the first says, "I informed our bosses. He's not gonna be on duty for a while, and even I got a couple weeks off."

Jean.

"Damn straight," a deeper voice comments. "You and Mikasa are the only ones that can keep this shithead's brain where it belongs."

Levi.

"Really? I thought you were good at these things." A raspy voice chips in. "Bet you lost control over him for a while and scared him off, ha, ha, ha!"

He doesn't know this person.

"I'll destroy you, glasses."

"You're going to wake Eren up." Mikasa.

A soft laugh follows her warning. "We do need to talk to him." Armin.

Tired of hearing people talk about him, he huffs, "I'm awake." His throat feels raw. It's hard to open his eyes completely—they feel caked and heavy with sleep.

The owner of the voice he hadn't recognized bounces in with a wide grin, looming over him. They get entirely too close into his space, eyes darting over his body like mad, and finally taking his hand.

"Hiya!"

Eren doesn't respond because he's too busy trying to figure out how to ask this person to let go.

"Back off, glasses," Levi snaps. "Nobody wants the first thing they see to be your crazy mug up close. At least introduce yourself."

"Oh, well that's easy enough!" Who Levi calls 'glasses' chirps. "I'm Hanji! Nice to meet you, Eren. I'm here to help!"

Eren casts a deadpan expression at his instructor and blanches.