Lunch, or any meal in the Scouting Legion, can be considered something of a philosophical affair. It signifies that you have made it to another waypoint; survived the horrors that might have taken your life throughout this particular interval. At least, it might if you think too hard, which most members try to avoid. Eren's thoughts, and those of his superiors, are elsewhere. For one thing, they aren't in the Mess Hall.
"He does bear a certain… resemblance to both of them." Levi shrugs and swallows his latest sip of calming tea before giving Hanji a response. "That doesn't prove anything. All we have to go on is his word, and there are a few things he very conveniently has no clue about."
"But just as conveniently, he knows others." Erwin's arm is planted elbow-first on his desk, his hand held up. If he still had another, he might have been interlacing his fingers. "To our knowledge, nobody outside of the 104th knew of the connection between Eren and the Female type. Nobody inside the Walls beyond a few members the Legion and the other division heads know of her identity. If he is a spy, then he's a rather sloppy one."
"Maybe that's just what he wants us to think. He's definitely a shifter, yet he came along willingly and volunteered information, which goes against everything we've seen of them so far. For all we know, his Titan form might have some means of climbing over the wall undetected." Hanji delivers the hypothesis with her usual air, but the look in her eyes is serious. Levi swallows another sip. "That seems overly complicated, especially for someone claiming to be Eren's brat."
"He's not my son." Eren speaks for the first time since he stormed out of the dungeons and it's just a bit louder than necessary in the small room. "There's no goddamn way."
Hanji's eyebrows are lowered thoughtfully, her arms crossed in front of her. "It does seem highly unlikely, but at the same time, to craft such a crazy story and tell it with that straight a face, he's either a ridiculously accomplished liar or completely insane. Considering who he says his mother is…"
Eren's voice rises a bit more. "How can you even consider this shit? Time travelers? He doesn't even know how he got here! It's fucking ridiculous!" Levi cuts across the developing rant with his usual grace and tact. "Eren, I have a fucking headache. If you're going to have a conniption, do it outside with the other brats."
The boy fumes silently, but knows better than to argue with his commanding officer. For all that Levi regrets having to beat him in the courtroom, he isn't above using the memory as leverage.
Hanji coughs awkwardly into her fist and gives Erwin a wide, plastered grin. "Well, if nobody has any major objections, I'll go and look through some of the books we liberated from the royal library. It's a stretch, but there might be some information on this sort of thing." Erwin gives her a curt nod and she pushes off from the wall, walking quickly out of the room and closing the door behind her. Levi gives his friend a baleful look. "You realize if she finds literally anything, she'll be ranting about it for months." The blonde shrugs and leans back in his chair. "Eren, I hope you'll understand why this can't be allowed to leave this room." The boy nods, still frowning, fingernails digging into his palms. "Good, dismissed."
The door creaks and clicks a second time, and with Eren gone, Erwin eyes his friend questioningly. "You know, unlikely as it seems, I have to agree with Hanji: he does bear a certain resemblance." Levi takes another sip of tea. "I guess so. But I hardly think that's a good enough reason to believe he's a fucking time-traveler…" Erwin frowns, his eyes drawn toward the sunlight glinting on his desk. "We've seen quite a few strange things, Levi, though perhaps none of this degree before. In all honesty, I wouldn't put even something like this past the universe. Not now."
-B-
Eren stalks down the hall like some sort of distracted predatory animal, teeth gritted, and eyes downcast. He knows he shouldn't be angry. All that he's heard are the ravings of a delusional madman, and he has no reason to give them a second thought. Annie is and always would have been an enemy, whether he knew it or not. He's convinced himself before, and he will again. To think anything else is a swift descent into uselessness, and he refuses to be that way ever again.
"Eren?" He draws up short; he can't tell her anything, and quite frankly he doesn't want to talk right now, to her or to anyone. Still, she deserves a response. "Hey, Mikasa."
"Are you feeling alright?" She has that sharp-edged, bored tone in her voice: the one that means she already knows the answer to that question, and isn't about to let him stew in whatever he's found to angst over. He can feel all the anger bubbling under his skin and, with a supreme effort, keeps it locked there. He needs to shut down this conversation before he says something hurtful. It's not her fault, none of it is.
"I'm fine, Mikasa, just tired. I was thinking I'd maybe go take a nap."
It's a flimsy excuse and they both know it. For one thing, Eren doesn't take naps, and for anther… "The barracks are the other direction, Eren." Her hands are folded across her chest; she's forgiving when it comes to her brother, but she doesn't like being lied to by anyone.
He sighs in that sharp sort of way, through his teeth, and she can see he's holding something back. There's that pang of hurt that always accompanies this sort of thing, the momentary question of trust between them. It's dismissed just as swiftly as usual. They're siblings in all but name and blood. If he refuses to tell her, then he has a good reason, and she will wait. She's done so before and will do it again.
"Does this have something to do with that prisoner the others were talking about bringing in last night?" He looks at her in surprise, anger momentarily vanishing before returning through gritted teeth. "I can't talk about it. Commander's orders."
She frowns, but nods, understanding to the last. Now that he's said it, her momentary doubt seems foolish, reprehensible even. They both internally berate themselves, Mikasa for her traitorous doubts, and Eren for the continually evolving disaster that is his self-control. Neither knows what the other is thinking, but the shared pain hangs like a thread in the air between them, just as it always has.
"Look, I'm sure you'll find out later, but for now, I really can't say anything." She frowns, but nods again. A hand finds its way to Eren's shoulder and Mikasa makes eye contact. She's steady and solid; everything he isn't right now. "Right, of course. If you need to find me, I'll be in the practice range."
And she's gone, walking down the hall at her usual nonchalantly brisk pace. He looks down the hall, the direction he had chosen without even realizing it. He knows where he was headed, and it only makes him angrier.
He turns on his heel and stalks back in the direction of the barracks. He's had enough of the dungeons for today; probably for a lifetime.
-B-
The silence in the cell is deafening, and Charles can't help but wonder for the umpteenth time if being in this place is really all that much better than where he was before. Once again he's behind bars. Once again, he's restrained. Once again, he's being guarded. 'And these ones don't even have the common courtesy to be good-looking.'
He snickers a bit at his own joke, but clams up when one of his supervisors shoots him a dirty look. He grins sheepishly back and the man turns his glare out towards the corridor 'I have really got to get a handle on this thinking out loud thing.'
He leans his head back against the cold rock wall and stares at the ceiling. His eyes slowly trace every angle and imperfection in the stone he is buried under and he contemplates the fragility of even something so apparently solid. Unbidden, he recalls the rictus of fury on the boy who might one day become his father.
'Not likely considering his reaction to the idea.' The thought is a strange and unsettling one; the idea that he simply would never exist. It's another troubling inconsistency to add to the list. Charles knows his mother was originally an enemy agent, but he hadn't ever heard much about that period of her life. She and his dad had dealt with the issue when she switched sides. It should have been long since resolved by now; months ago at the least.
'So why does he seem to hate her?'
The boy's face had gone slack when Charles had finally explained his parentage, his mouth hanging open for a moment before beginning a momentary tirade. He's argued with his father quite a bit in his life. Eren Yeager respects those who stand up for themselves. Charles had to learn to do just that at a young age, or risk getting smothered.
'Not that it helps much here.' He has no way of making his father come back. He has little to no proof of his claims beyond his word and his existence. For the umpteenth time he wishes his mother were here, at the very least as moral support. For the umpteenth time he waves away the impulse.
'It wouldn't actually be her anyway.'
Still, he wishes he could see her, if only to ask what she's done. Annie Leonhardt and Eren Yeager are two parts of a whole. Charles' parents love each other; it's a fact of his life, his world. What could she have possibly done to change that so drastically?
'Why is everything here so wrong?'
So this chapter is a bit shorter than the first. It's honestly more of an interlude than anything else. I hope to have another one up soon, but you never know when and how the use will strike, eh?
Leave a review, and thanks for reading,
Scavenger