Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin.

This is merely to quench my intense feels about this anime and the manga. AU. Still Mikasa-centered. Rivamika shippers, it will come in the end.

So apparently…Eren's last name, Jaeger, is spelled Yaeger. I personally disagree because the original German spelling is Jäger, therefore I'll continue Jaeger-ing away in this.

Also, is it Recon Corps, Survey Corps, or Scouting Legion? Geeze…

Additional note: Huge thanks and bone-crushing hugs to my followers and reviewers! Love ya!

A Possible Route

Chapter Three: Helplessness

The days that followed the horror were both a rush and a blur to the trio.

The evacuees' boats had led the remaining survivors of Shiganshina (and beyond it, in Mikasa's case) to a city in Wall Rose. Though it was unspoken, every single one of them knew they were never going to be safe again, whether they stayed in Wall Rose, went back to Wall Maria or joined the king in his castle in Wall Sina. Hell, they could have been on the other side of the Earth, and they still would not have been reassured. The past events that had led up to this eerie, unsettling and, above all, imaginary peace had convinced the scarred ones that no amount of fighting or hope would save them.

That is, except for one young boy in particular: Eren Jaeger.

Through solemn glances and muttered sentence fragments, he had filled Armin and Mikasa in on what had happened to his mother. Though details were – charitably – not given, they understood what had been dreaded: Carla had been eaten by a Titan. Even worse, her son had experienced it while a soldier – Hannes, they later found out – helped him escape. Or rather, forced him to escape.

Mikasa had been more affected by this than Eren or Armin would think. She had not, after all, met Carla, but she had felt a pang of realization that if that had happened to Eren's mother, it most definitely could have happened to her parents. They were unfamiliar with the city, and swallowed up by the crowd and panic. Mikasa had gotten out by sheer luck. Had her parents also been as lucky…?

The rational part of Mikasa's mind, buried beneath false truths and make-belief, told her, clearly and honestly, "No."

The only uplifting thing – if it was at all uplifting in the first place – about the situation was Eren. He had something new in his eyes—something his friends were certain that it had not been there before. It was determination. It was his promise to avenge his mother. It was his goal to defeat every last Titan on this Earth.

It wasn't a very positive promise, though, if he succeeded, the result would be. However, Mikasa and Armin doubted him. He was ten. He was only a child. He wasn't old enough to join the military, and he would have to wait at least two years. And even if he joined the Recon Corps, it would take three years to train for that. In that total of five years' time, who knew how many more people would have been eaten? Who knew how many more towns would be destroyed? Who knew how many more people's lives would be taken from them, chewed on by a disgusting giant, spit back out, stomped on, cried on, bled on, and then rubbed in their faces? He didn't know. Nobody did. His promise just wasn't convincing enough.

However, both his friends knew it was his life and his goals, and even if they bickered, even if they tried to convince him to not do it, they knew he would try.

After days of silence pounding on their heads, after being greeted in the morning by solemn looks and faraway stares, after surviving on rations and being insulted and treated like filth by the citizens of Wall Rose, Mikasa finally had enough.

Early one morning, before Armin or Eren had woken up, she had gone to the local makeshift hospital for the survivors and asked for an apprenticeship and job there. With so many inexperienced, time-pressured nurses and doctors doing what little they could, and Dr. Jaeger nowhere to be found, she figured she might as well be of use to as many people as possible as quickly as possible. Having learned the main basics from Dr. Jaeger whenever he visited and some more first-aid from her mother, she had a rough idea of what to do.

"You're hired," the doctor in charge had told her when he heard her mention Dr. Jaeger. "Ask for Nurse Therese Koch. She will teach you." He gestured at somebody in a white doctor's coat tending to a patient. "But don't expect payment from me, girl. We are poor and stressed. I'm sorry, but I can't pay you for the time being. Not until we get the money…and not until you are of some good."

The ten-year-old bowed her head slightly, a gesture she had learned from her parents, and went off to the woman. She was tall and had pretty blonde hair. Her doctor's coat was almost brown with dried blood. However, even caked in blood and God-knew-what-else, she looked kind and helpful and motherly, and proved soon afterward to be exactly so.

"Are you Nurse Therese Koch?" Mikasa asked timidly.

The woman gave her a puzzled look, then burst out laughing. Mikasa was surprised at her reaction and considered backing away, pretending this had never happened. She had not expected this.

The woman blinked back tears and smiled at her. "I suppose so," she answered. "Why? Who are you, child?"

Mikasa told the woman her name and about her unarranged apprenticeship to her.

"I guess the old man told you I was Nurse Koch," the woman said. "That's adorable. I'm a doctor, not a nurse. That man just won't get that just because I'm female, doesn't mean I'm stupid." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well, then, let's get started, shall we, Mikasa?"

She told Mikasa what to do and explained things as she was doing them as she helped her patients. Mikasa couldn't say she enjoyed it, but Dr. Koch reminded her of her lost mother, and it felt good to do something productive, something that helped humanity, whether it be bandaging a finger or trying to stop internal organ bleeding. Dr. Koch kept telling her, "Good job, Mikasa," or "You're doing great," and that was all part of the reward.

At the end of the long day, Mikasa's clothes were soaked in sweat and blood. The beating hot sun outside had not been merciful to her, and soon her clothes had been deemed unbearable – both appearance-wise, in texture and in smell – but she had nothing else with her.

Just as the girl was about to return to Eren and Armin, Dr. Koch came to her and gave her a smile that was so sincere and sweet and motherly that Mikasa swore she saw her own mother's face, and not the doctor's. Then the woman gave her a freshly-laundered, snow-white doctor's coat, identical to the her own, except clean and new.

"Here, Mikasa," she said, gently putting it on for her and doing the buttons. It was several sizes too big for her, but it was clean and smelled of soap. On the back and the shoulders was the ancient symbol, the Caduceus, embroidered in red, just like the military uniforms. "This is yours now. Come back tomorrow at five. You're officially my apprentice." She said those words with a certain pride, and unexpected joy swelled up in Mikasa, an emotion she had thought was long-gone.

Since that day, Mikasa left early to the hospital every morning and came back late every evening. She gained experience and got used to the sight of blood, even though it unpleasant memories still resurfaced, though she tried her best to ignore them. Seeing Eren's state, though, she supposed it was for the better that she hadn't seen her parents get devoured.

Almost a year went by. There was still no progress in keeping the Titans at bay, but they hadn't come close to Wall Rose, which was good. How long it would stay good, though, nobody could predict. Their knowledge on Titans was zip. The only piece of useful information was common knowledge: they could only be killed by slicing the nape of the neck in one clean cut. That piece of information had been let out to the public for their own safety, in case any citizens found themselves in the situation that made it possible for them to get rid of one of those wretched overgrown beasts.

One day, after Mikasa had come back from the hospital, Eren had decided she wasn't going to be the only useful one, and he had already discussed it with Armin. When Mikasa had been learning to heal wounds and help the sick, the boys had been learning to get strong. Their 'training' had been simple and slow, but they had gotten reasonably stronger, though Armin was never one to be physically strong in the first place.

Eren asked Mikasa to sit down with them, earning him a confused look, then a nod. She readjusted her doctor's coat—it had become her trademark by now. She even slept in the thing. She cleaned it, of course, but she had a feeling it would never be as white as it had been.

"What's wrong, Eren?" she asked. "Did something happen?"

The blonde shook his head. "No. But, Mikasa, we wanted to tell you… That is, we wanted to say…" He turned to the brunet. "Oh, Eren, I can't say it!"

Eren sighed and looked Mikasa dead in the eye, and she knew her one fear had come true.

"We're going to join the military."