Reiner knew he was slowly – but very surely – losing his mind. It was getting hard, sometimes – most of the times – to remember who he was, what he was, and just how he had gotten where he was in the first place.
Sometimes being a Titan felt more like a dream than anything else. A scary dream, worse than nightmares, but better than when he remembered that it was reality. He liked not remembering more than he probably should have, but there was some human left in him still, and nature was not to be denied.
Not remembering meant he hurt less, felt less sorrow, could smile. He really liked being able to smile without his teeth showing.
Liked knowing that he meant it.
And he did mean it most of the time – these were his friends, his comrades, his likes when he was a soldier and not a warrior – and even if it was somewhat forced as he was hit with a reality he didn't like to think about, he did not lie when he smiled.
He didn't know if he could even lie convincingly anymore, because what used to be lies had turned into truths and they felt more real than anything else.
He was human – except when he was not – and he did come from a village that not many knew the name of, somewhat far away, very small. It had just been a while ago, was all.
It felt like it had been only days, sometimes, even though he knew – when he wasn't not lying – that it had been far longer. And the story went a little different – a boy didn't grow up to be a man but to be a Titan – but nobody had to know that.
Too many knew already, himself included.
If Reiner could have forgotten and not just hid – turn memories into nothing – he would have, because even though he knew he had a responsibility – a real one, an important one, they just couldn't see it yet – he was very, very tired.
Very, very sad.
He was human enough to want it to be over, screw all.
But he couldn't, and he didn't think of it any more than he thought of eating humans and breaking walls, how crushing a bone with ones teeth felt and how it sounded. How messy it could be, how clean, depending on how you did it, how big you were. He didn't think of just how good it tasted, shoving screaming things down his throat and swallowing, not at all.
He hadn't done that, didn't know that, never felt it.
He thought about it constantly.
It was there, in the back of his mind, constantly – an itch he couldn't scratch. Soundtrack when he was eating, visual when he went to bed.
Sometimes he caught himself just in time not to take a bite of someone as they were sparring. Sometimes he forgot he couldn't just harden his skin or not act like he was hurt after he had been.
Humans didn't heal like he did, Titans did.
Reiner was a human, though.
Wasn't he?