WARNING:

This fic will contain drug use and drug trafficking. This in no way encourages the use of drugs or the distribution of them. Just thought I'd throw that out there. I'd feel bad if I didn't. Okay, now on with it, yeah?

Chapter 1: Blood

Today had been too long for Eren Jaeger. Much too long. He'd been in class all day, lecture after lecture, assignment after assignment, and he was only functioning on four hours of sleep and two thermoses of coffee. He just felt completely exhausted.

So naturally when his phone buzzed loudly in his coat pocket, he was considerably irritated. He dug in his coat pocket to find the offending device and gave an irritated huff as he glanced at the caller ID.

"What do you want, Mikasa?" He snapped into the phone, before the caller could say anything.

"Where are you?" A soft voice said on the other line, obviously concerned. Eren rolled his eyes. She did this every day. Every damn day. He understood her concern, but that didn't make it any less annoying, especially when he was in a particularly foul mood.

"Walking home. I'll be there in like 30 minutes. It's unnecessary for you to ask me this every day when the answer is usually always the same." He grumbled, not even attempting to mask the irritability in his voice.

"Hmph. You should try to get more sleep at night. See you soon."

The other line ended and Eren slipped his phone back into his pocket. Mikasa's suggestion for him to get more sleep had been a passive aggressive remark for him to stop being so bitchy and Eren knew that. He felt a twinge of guilt for being so rude with her, when it had been his own fault he'd been lacking sleep. But still, Mikasa asked where he was every day, barely five minutes after he'd gotten out of his last class, and the answer was always: "Coming home. See you soon."

Mikasa had been his adoptive sister for about eleven years now. When she was ten, her parents were murdered under mysterious circumstances. One bullet to both of their heads, and Mikasa never figured out why. Nothing had been taken and no clear motive for the murder was found. After that the Jaeger family took her in with open arms, Eren and Mikasa's fathers having been close friends and no close relatives of hers having been suitable for the job.

Eren and Mikasa immediately became good friends, and Mikasa had been overprotective of him ever since, understandably so, but it was still overbearing at times. After Eren and Mikasa graduated high school, Mikasa began a waitressing job at a diner close to Eren's university. Mikasa said she didn't go to college, because it just wasn't for everybody, and she was still unsure of what she wanted to do with her life. Eren knew her too well though. She didn't go to college because she wanted to help his parents support his schooling, but he never had the heart to tell her that he knew that.

All that was ancient history now, though. At twenty-one, Eren had been in college for three years now. He was graduating in a year and he'd never been so stressed.

Eren ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh. He looked around, realizing that while he was deep in thought, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going and took a wrong turn. He examined his surroundings, and realized he was in a fairly shabby part of town, but it was only 6pm and he knew how to get to the trains from here, so the situation wasn't entirely terrible. He took a shortcut through an alleyway, thinking that even if he was robbed, he didn't have much money on him on him and didn't particularly care about losing his phone, and no thief would probably have interest in his textbooks. He didn't have much to lose.

Or maybe he was just being naïve, because when he turned a corner, his eyes immediately widened and he felt bile rise in his throat.

Blood. A lot of blood.

A man was on the ground, leaning against a wall, his hand gripping a wound that was bleeding profusely from under the gray tank top he was wearing. Eren froze. He knew should of walked away in that moment. Not got himself involved with something obviously sketchy, but he couldn't of just let the man die, for fuck's sake. So he walked over to the man and squatted in front of him.

"Y-You need help?" He said not being able to keep his voice from shaking.

He realized the man was conscious (barely), when steel gray eyes lazily looked up at him.

"No shit." The man spat, his voice incredibly raspy, yet filled with irritation.

Eren pursed his lips in nervousness and hooked his arms around the man's shoulders.

"H-Here let me help you." Eren muttered anxiously as he hoisted the man up.

Eren realized the man was incredibly short, couldn't be anymore than 5'3. The man groaned in pain as he was shifted and fell into groove of Eren's shoulder and neck as he desperately tried to keep his feet on the ground. Eren moved him to where he could sling the man's arm around his shoulder, and support his weigh, which was incredibly difficult; for a man being so short, he was heavy.

"I'm going to call an ambulance. I'll find some place to lie you down until they get here." Eren said his voice quite calmer than it was before, yet restrained from the effort he was giving in holding the man up.

"Don't you fucking dare call an ambulance, brat.." The man said weakly, yet with malice, before he fell unconscious.

Eren didn't have the time to be confused about the statement before the man's unsupported weight almost made him fall over. He leaned against the nearest wall, trying to adjust the man's weight, without making his wound any worse. While he was against the wall, he struggled to find his phone and keep the man up at the same time, but somehow he manages, by leaning most of the man's weight against the wall and using one hand to dial 911.

The conversation with the emergency receiver was rushed and nervous, but Eren tried his best not to sound completely frantic as he explained how he found a man bleeding from his abdomen in an alleyway when it was still light outside.

After the conversation was over and the ambulance was on it's way, Eren let out a sigh of relief and gently laid the man down on the ground, supporting some of his weight so his head wasn't on the cement.

He looked down at the man, that even though he appeared to be dying, was still rude to him and thought: You better not fucking die before they get here.