elucet omnibus lux

Salem, Oregon

a.d. iii Non. Nov., 2766 A.U.C.

That morning he'd awoken with a start. It had been a strange sort of jolt, his eyes snapping open and his heart thundering in his chest. He was knotted up in his blankets, silvery dawn light drawing in through his window. He squinted through it, shivering against the nippy morning chill. Someone had forgotten to turn the heat on. He sniffled, rubbing his eyes blearily as he checked the time.

Daylight's savings time, he recalled, grimacing. The clocks ran backward today. He sat up in bed, pulling his diabetes kit into his lap and quickly checked his blood sugar. All in all, he seemed fine. He licked up the residual bead of blood, a shudder running through him as he tossed his blankets back. Damn, it was cold!

Eren then recalled something incredibly important.

He leapt off his bed, his bare feet sliding against his wooden floor, and he crept out of his room, tip toeing carefully through the hall. It was very dark, for the morning light could not reach the narrow hallway, and his toes felt numb against the frigid wood. He listened to his skin peel off the surface, making soft sucking sounds with every step.

Armin's door was ajar.

Eren paused, curious, and he carefully pushed it open. He was greeted with a gust of icy November air, and he flinched at the sensation, a thousand knives blowing him backwards. He marched into the room, his teeth chattering, and he looked around hurriedly, trying to comprehend the frigid temperature. He saw that Armin's window was wide open, the screen popped out and resting underneath it. A thin layer of frost clung to the surface of the windowsill as Eren slammed the window shut.

Armin bolted upright in bed, his hair utterly askew all around his head, pale strands twisted and tangled in the silvery glow of dawn. Eren glanced at him confusedly. Why the fuck was your window open, man? he thought to his tiny friend as the boy shuddered in the cold, curling up against his blanket.

Armin did not answer.

"Hey," Eren said, "dude. Happy birthday."

Armin twisted to face him, his body going taut as his mouth dropped open.

And Eren realized his mistake.

"Historia?" he blurted, taking an alarmed step back.

"Eren?" she asked weakly, her large blue eyes drooping in disappointment.

"What're doin'?" Eren asked curiously, plopping down at the foot of the bed. He noticed how she sorta skittered back, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them tightly. Her body was coiled up, and the tension there was clear. Did she not trust him, or something? "Where's Armin?"

She stared at him with her large, dull blue eyes. And then she buried her mouth in her knees, shaking her head. Eren didn't understand. What did that mean?

"Historia…?" Eren stared at her expectantly. She had the same vacant look about her that she always had. It seemed to him that she was still healing. "Hey. C'mon, don't pout like that."

She blinked at him confusedly, raising her head. "What…?" she asked, her voice thick.

"You're pouting," he said. "And feelin' sorry for yourself, I'll bet. Quit it. You ain't dyin', are you?"

She winced at his words, and she took a deep, shaky breath. She shook her head furiously, and her wild blonde hair blew about her face. He nodded firmly.

"Good," he said. "So, what's goin' on? Did Armin open the window last night, whenever y'all got home? Or…?"

"What time is it?" she mumbled, scrubbing at her eyes furiously. She tossed her head back and groaned. "I feel like I barely even slept."

"It's like, six or somethin'." Historia gave him a long, disbelieving look. "What?"

"It's six in the morning," she said, "and you woke me up?"

"I thought you were Armin!" Eren threw his hands up in defense. "Ain't my fault you two are like, identical fuckin' twins."

"I'm older by ten months," she mumbled, ducking her head as he reached over to try and pat her hair down.

"I don't care if you're six years older, with your hair all stuck up like that you look exactly alike." He smoothed the strands out so they weren't arranged all across her head, and she stared at him blankly. "Eh. There. Now you kinda look like you. Sorta."

He frowned as he tugged his fingers from her hair, grimacing when he accidentally ripped some hair out. "Uh, sorry," he said, offering out the stray strands of golden hair that he'd torn from her head. She'd winced a little but otherwise seemed unfazed. She plucked up one long, golden filament and watched it glimmer faintly in the silvery dawn light.

"You're a lot like Ymir," she said softly.

Eren went rigid. Rage welled up inside him, bubbling up in his throat as he snarled at her, "What? 'Cause I hurt you? That's a crock of shit, and you know it."

"No," Historia said, running her fingers through her hair. He saw them get snatched up by her tangles, and she tore through them with great ease. "I just think you sound a lot like her. She's a lot nicer than you think she is."

"She's kinda responsible for my mom's death," Eren said dully.

"I know," she said in the same dull tone. "I'm sorry. But I think you're all wrong about her anyway. She didn't mean it."

"Look," Eren said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "I already had this fuckin' conversation with her, okay? I ain't gonna kill her. Don't mean I gotta like her. Also, we ain't nothin' alike, hon."

Historia actually giggled at that, surprising him. It had been a long time since he'd heard her laugh. "But you talk exactly the same," she said, smiling wanly. He scowled at her as she rested her cheek against her knees. "It's nice…"

"You're saying I talk like a fuckin' bootlegger, or somethin'… else from the twenties?" He snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm just saying you sound alike," she said.

"I always thought I sounded like a hick," Eren said thoughtfully, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. "Guess I sound like a hick and Leonardo DiCaprio. Good to know."

Historia smiled at that. It was nice, actually. Making her smile. Eren didn't know much about her, but she was Armin's sister, so she was automatically top priority and needed to be protected at all costs. Or, like, maybe she could protect herself, who really cared, the point was that Eren had made her smile and that was a pretty damn good accomplishment. Good job, Eren.

"Right, so like, Armin?" Eren bounced eagerly against the mattress, listening to the springs creak noisily in the ringing silence of dawn. "Don't tell me he's sick."

Historia blanched. She opened her mouth, her tiny lips parting in a long gape as she stared at him. He could see her breath in the chilly morning air, and it misted slowly around her mouth. She looked utterly lost for a moment, her eyes growing dazed as she stared ahead, suddenly unfocused.

"Sick…?" she uttered faintly.

His brow furrowed, and he refrained from saying something very mean that he might regret. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, or anything. In fact, he wanted her to actually feel comfortable around him, which he knew she wouldn't if he mouthed off every stupid thing that came to his mind. Still, he thought, tilting his head at her in disbelief, she's kinda weird.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "Like, is he puking his guts out in the bathroom again? Did y'all fall asleep together? That's actually kinda sweet, jeez."

"Oh." Historia slumped, her fingers skimming her hair shakily as she blinked away the glaze in her eyes. She shook her head profusely, taking a deep breath. "No, no, he… he's…" She flinched when he leaned forward anxiously. "He's… gone, Eren…"

Eren sat cross-legged on Armin's bed, breathing in icy air and exhaling steam, and he stared at this tiny girl with a blank, placid gaze.

"What?" he stated flatly.

His thoughts were suddenly flying at a million miles per second, and he mentally stretched himself until he felt himself snap, reaching blindly into the ether until he realized there was nothing to reach for. No ribbon, no link, no voice inside his head to reassure him that there was nothing wrong.

He leapt to his feet, his heels cracking against the hard wood.

"What the fuck do you mean," he said, his voice rising in volume, "he's gone?"

"He ran off," she said, her head bowing. "I was waiting to see if he might… come back, or something. I don't know." He whirled around and marched to the door. "Where are you going? Eren…? Hey!" She leapt to her feet after him, trailing behind him as he stomped his feet like a child throwing a tantrum, and he threw open Mikasa's door.

She bolted upright, staring at him with her steady gaze alert even through her sleep-filled eyes.

"Get up," he said sharply, turning from her and exiting the room with a turn of his heel. "Armin ran away."

He could hear the rustle of her blankets being kicked away, and the soft clap of her feet against the wooden floor. She was at his side suddenly, her arm still in a sling as she hunched defensively, her eyes darting between him and Historia. He could sense her fear as she lurked very close to him, her breathing sharp as she inhaled through her nose. He didn't need the mindlink to know what she was feeling. He was feeling it too.

"Eren," Historia said desperately, "what are you doing?"

He moved through the hallway in nothing but a few quick strides. He could hear his blood pounding into his brain. He was absolutely terrified. And absolutely furious. He could hear not-quite-so distant murmuring as he came upon the kitchen. It immediately stopped as he entered the room.

Hange tipped their head back to peer at him over their thick glasses. They smiled genially.

"Eren," they said. "Hey, sleepy head, what are you doing up so—?"

"Where is Armin?" he asked furiously.

Hange's smile did not falter. Instead they turned their attention to Erwin, an eyebrow quirked expectantly. "Yeah, Erwin," they said, "where's Armin?"

"Now that isn't fair," Erwin sighed. "You know I can't see him."

"Yeah, that's bullshit," Levi said dully from a stool. He'd been discharged the previous night, and upon returning home they all had kind of crashed without even thinking. They'd just figured Erwin would return with Armin and Historia in tow. Eren had never imagined this could happen. Why? Why would Armin run off?

"You're his father," Eren snapped at Erwin. "You're his fucking father! You should know this stuff! What happened? Was he upset? Angry? Was he scared? You can't leave him alone when he's scared, he'll just end up hurting himself, and— and probably someone else, who knows with his powers! And he's not even in any kind of physical condition to be running around by himself! In the cold, too! What the fuck! How did this happen? Historia?" He rounded on the tiny blonde girl. She stared at him vacantly.

"I don't know," she said softly. Eren couldn't help but believe her. She seemed kind of devastated. He whirled back around to face Erwin.

"Well?" he asked, his voice biting and sharp and tearing from his throat in an unrestrained snarl.

"Eren," the man said calmly, "if I knew where Armin was, I'd be with him right now."

"You should be out looking!" Eren cried. "He's too smart for you to leave alone, he could be on his way to like, Mexico or, or Canada, or something by now! Why are you all sitting around? We need to find him!"

"Eren, please calm down," Hange said gently. Eren shot them a look, his jaw tightening in frustration. They didn't get it. They didn't understand. Armin was too smart and too independent. If he wanted to, he could make certain that none of them ever saw him again. And that was terrifying.

"Do you think I'm not calm?" Eren spat, his muscles coiling in tension. "Because I could be pretty damn livid. I think I'm calm right now, don't you, Mikasa?"

"Relatively," she answered in a low, dark tone. She was furious too, he could tell. She was just keeping her fury to herself.

"Armin said he had a lead, and that he was following it," Erwin said. He was sitting at the table, his hands folded over his mouth as he hunched forward pensively. "I have no idea what that could mean. He was very careful not to alert us as to what he was planning to do."

"Well, what the hell are we supposed to do, then?" Eren asked, his voice trembling in his rage. "Just wait for him to come back?"

"There isn't much else we can do," Hange admitted. Eren stared at them incredulously, and they could only smile at him. "Don't worry, okay? Just have a little faith in him. And just imagine how much trouble he'll be in when he gets back!"

"I don't want Armin in trouble," he said heatedly, "I just want him to be home."

"Erwin," Historia said quietly, "do you think… that maybe we should—"

"No, Historia," Erwin said firmly.

She stared at him with her dull eyes widening ever so slightly. She looked desperate and sad. And also, perhaps, a little angry. She turned toward Mikasa and rested her hand on her sling. For a few moments nothing happened, but then, suddenly, the room was filled with a strange mist of golden light that trailed in little waves from Mikasa's broken arm, swirling around Historia's pretty face and electrifying her dim blue eyes. Suddenly the air was brimming with gold, and Eren tasted the spark, tasted the life in it as it exploded all around them, a burst of light that dispersed into nothing.

"There," Historia said in her usual soft little voice. "I'm sorry it took so long."

Mikasa unwound the sling hastily, staring at her arm in awe for a moment before cracking her cast with her bare fingers, watching the remnants of it crash to the tile floor. She flexed her arm, dust clinging to her skin as her muscles moved. She dusted herself off, nodding her thanks to Historia as she wandered to Levi's side.

It was just the same when she healed him, only this time she didn't actually touch him. She just leveled her hands with his face, and sorta just twitched her fingers until suddenly there was golden light, and her eyes were reflected it like two swirling beacons, and for some reason Eren felt as though he wasn't really looking at Historia, but something else, like maybe an alien or a ghost or something eerie and powerful that could not be understood by this world.

"Well," Levi said, patting his side, "shit."

Historia was watching him with a long, intense gaze, and Eren realized her eyes were leaking.

Like, she wasn't crying.

Her eyes were leaking gold.

He watched it roll down her cheeks in slow rivulets.

"Historia," Erwin said in a sharp, clear voice. She looked at him, and Eren saw a dazed little smile on her lips as the liquid gold touched them. And then her smile fell, and she scrubbed at her eyes furiously, whirling away from them all as she hunched over and took deep, deep breaths.

"Hey," Eren said hesitantly, "you okay?"

"Historia has to keep a steadier grip on her power," Erwin said. "Sometimes she loses herself in it. She's fine, though."

Eren glanced at the tiny girl, watching her shoulders shake and listening to her heavy breaths, and he found that he didn't believe Erwin one bit.

Mikasa moved nearer to Historia, hovering beside her protectively as she shot a glance at Erwin. Perhaps neither of them believed him, but even still. There was something odd going on here. Something Erwin wasn't saying. Something Historia knew, but wasn't saying because Erwin forbid it. Eren and Mikasa shared a knowing look.

"Historia," Mikasa said, resting her hand on the girl's quaking shoulder. "Why don't you lay down?"

Historia nodded vigorously, not bothering to look up, and Mikasa led her back into the hall, throwing a glance back at Levi. He watched them go with a neutral expression. Eren stood, suddenly alone with the three adults, and he too a deep breath in order to clear his mind. No, they were right. Getting angry wouldn't bring Armin home. But… fuck! It wasn't fair! How could this have happened?

It's Armin, Eren told himself, he's good at getting his way.

It wasn't fair…

"Are you sure," Eren said quietly, "that he ran away?"

"What do you mean?" Hange asked.

He looked at the three of them, and his brow furrowed. "I mean," he said, "he could've been kidnapped."

"Or tricked," Levi said, taking a sip of his tea. "It's not entirely impossible."

"But Armin's smart," Hange said. "Do you honestly think he'd be so easily trapped?"

"I dunno." Levi hunched over, his eyes moving from his tea to Hange's face. "But you know, Ymir, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie are still on the loose."

"What if they're together?" Hange gasped, their eyes brightening behind the glasses. "What if that's what Armin figured out?"

"Well, they're all kinda connected to the institution," Eren said slowly, rubbing his hair. "But Ymir is like… I dunno. She ain't… too keen on goin' back, I don't think."

"Ah, right," Hange said. "The Ymir-is-Ilse thing. Because cryogenics. That's all well and good, but if Ymir is the Ilse in the photographs, then who's been responsible for all the devastation we've seen?"

"Uh…" Eren grimaced, thinking very hard and very fast. He'd been trying not to think about it, lest he get a headache. "Gosh, I dunno, ma. Clones?"

"Could be, could be," Hange said, nodding their head in a slow rhythm. They were in their thinking zone, so Eren could tell they were throwing around at least a dozen theories inside their head at once. "Clones, or some kind of relative, like with Ymir and Connie. Maybe Ymir's mother had more kids. Maybe we're missing something else, something crucial. Gah!" Hange rubbed their hair furiously, similarly to how Eren had only a minute before. "This is so frustrating! Why'd she run away?"

"Who started the fire?" Levi muttered, staring blankly ahead of him. "Eren said it for sure wasn't Ymir. So, then, who?"

They were all very quiet.

Erwin looked at Eren, his eyebrows furrowing and casting a great shadow over his eyes. "Can you describe how the fire started?"

See, Eren had been thinking about it a whole lot over the past few days. And none of it made sense. He had been playing it over in his head, and he recalled, with a shaky nausea, that he'd felt distinctly as though Armin had been in the room with him. But that was impossible. Armin had been at home. But, even Ymir had asked if Armin had been brought along. Her unease had been clear from the very start. She'd felt something in that room.

But it couldn't have been Armin. It just couldn't have been.

"It just… started…" Eren didn't know how to describe it. "Out of nowhere, I mean… I smelled the gasoline, and I… I heard it being poured, too. I don't know."

"That's very odd," Erwin said.

"Sounds like someone invisible did it," Levi said, glancing at Eren with his dark, drooping blue eyes. Eren shook his head furiously.

"Look, I don't know," he said. "It happened too fast."

"Did Ymir tell Connie anything more than she told you?" Hange asked curiously.

Eren shook his head somberly. He thought about the boy, thought about how his house was kinda a wreck and how everything sucked. He felt very guilty for that. At least Hange was already working on covering the damages, and getting the house fixed up.

"We should have a meeting," Erwin mused aloud. "Get everyone who's left together. We don't have the time anymore to dawdle and mull over what could be. We need to understand, and we need to find your father, Eren. Now."

"But we tried that," he said confusedly. "It didn't really work, did it? Because of the institute, and like, Ilse. And stuff."

"What if," Erwin said thoughtfully, "one of us turns ourselves in."

"Fuck no," Levi stated.

"Thank you for your input, Levi, but you should hear me out before you make your opinions." Erwin straightened up, looking straight into Eren's eyes, and he said very calmly, "What if we are all wrong about the facility's intentions?"

"What do you mean?" Eren asked slowly. He wandered over to a cabinet, grabbing a box of lucky charms and scooping up a fistful as he sat down. "Like, they ain't super evil and shady? 'Cause they sure as hell are."

"Eren, you had muscular dystrophy when you were younger, didn't you?" Erwin was speaking so very calmly, and Eren felt so very uncertain all of a sudden. He dropped his cereal into his mouth one piece at a time, chewing as he tried to wrap his head around this.

"Yeah…" he said, swallowing thickly. "Um, yeah, okay. So what?"

"Well," Erwin said, "I was blind when I entered the facility. They cured me."

"Wha—?" Eren sat back, looking around in alarm. Hange was standing by the sink, their eyes widening a little, while Levi simply sat and frowned. "For real? But—"

"Annie Leonhardt had leukemia," he continued, moving his spoon around his cup of coffee. "Reiner Braun, lung cancer, Bertholdt Hoover, melanoma. Do you see a pattern here, Eren?"

Eren sat in awe of this information. How? How had he not remembered that?

They'd cured them…?

Eren's eyes darted to Levi's face, and the man stared right back at him. Oh my god, Eren thought. They were trying to save us?

Eren felt like he'd been lied to for years and years, and suddenly his entire world-view was crashing down.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

This was hella fuckin' dumb.

"Is that what these powers are for…?" Eren blinked rapidly as thought to clear his vision, clear his head, but nothing was working. "To battle whatever… was wrong with us before…?"

"Yes, I believe so," Erwin said. "I can't be certain why. I'd like to speak to Connie about this, because Ilse came to him directly when he was immobilized."

"They… they can't be good people though," Eren said faintly. "They killed Marco."

"Maybe Marco knew too much," Erwin said. "We don't know. But I do think our options should be kept open. If something were to happen… it may be that the facility is our only form of salvation."

"What are you saying, Erwin?" Levi asked quietly. His voice, per usual, was slow and coarse and monotone. "Something like what?"

Erwin smiled tightly. "Our conditions are so uncertain," he said. "Who knows what has truly been done to us, or how it's developed over the years. And, of course, there are the side effects that plague the children."

"My diabetes and narcolepsy?" Eren tossed his head back, dropping marshmallows into his mouth. "That's easy to treat, though."

"Schizophrenia, heart conditions, skin conditions, amongst other things." Erwin stood up. "Why don't you and Levi suit up?"

"But," Eren gasped, nearly choking on his cereal as he jumped to his feet, "Armin—!"

"He is a big boy, Eren," Erwin said firmly. "He'll be back."

"Hey, uh," Hange said with a little wave, "what about me?"

"I've got a different job for you, Hange," he said, glancing at Eren and Levi as Levi rose to his feet. When Eren didn't budge, Levi swatted his shoulder, a motion to move out, but Eren couldn't. He was caught up in what he knew was suspicious activity from Erwin. He was caught in fear of what might become of Armin. He was caught confused at what Erwin wanted Hange to do. It was all so dumb.

"A job?" Hange's eyes lit up.

"A request, actually…"

"C'mon, kid," Levi said, grabbing Eren by the shoulder. He shot one last urgent look at Hange before he turned away, slouching irritably as he trudged down the hall. Levi led him to Mikasa's room, entering without knocking and pausing as he looked around.

"You are a goddamn slob," he told Mikasa sharply. She was sitting on the bed with Historia, who was lying with her back turned toward the door. Levi seemed to notice that, and he hunched his shoulders reproachfully. "Is she sick?"

"No," Mikasa said. "No, I don't think so."

"Well, get her up. We're suiting up."

Mikasa's face darkened, much as he expected it to, and her nostrils flared. "Without Armin?" she asked with a severe bite to her tone. "No way."

"This isn't a question, Mikasa," Levi said. "Do as you're told."

"Levi, something is wrong," she said, lurching to her feet. "You know it. Erwin's not telling us something!"

"Erwin doesn't tell us a lot of things," Levi said. "So what?"

"So—" She gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing furiously. "So! Do something about it!"

"As much as I'd love to slug Erwin in the face," he said, "I've got no reason to. And neither do you. Just get dressed. And, I dunno. Get the little Armin clone some coffee, or something. She looks dead."

"Levi, what do you think?" Eren asked eagerly. "About one of us turning ourselves in?"

"What?" Mikasa asked flatly. Historia bolted upright, her eyes wide and somewhat… bewildered, or furious, or distraught. Eren couldn't tell. Perhaps it was a mixture of the three. "Fuck no."

"No one is turning themselves in," Levi said.

"Did Erwin say that?" Historia uttered softly. Eren nodded. She rubbed her face tiredly, and Eren wondered how she must feel. Ymir running away, then Armin. Without any warning. Maybe I should let her punch me, Eren thought brightly. To get her anger all out! "I'll do it."

"No you won't," Eren told her very sharply, feeling aggravated and bemused.

"I can heal," she said.

"So can I, but I ain't volunteerin'!"

"But—!"

"Historia," Mikasa said, turning to face the tiny girl. "We won't have you put yourself in any sort of danger. You aren't disposable. Erwin was wrong to suggest this sort of thing. No one is going to do it, because everyone here is too important to lose."

"Including you," Eren said firmly. "So quit that shit, no one wants to hear any sorta self-sacrificial notions, 'cause they mean nothin'."

Historia stared at him with large eyes, her mouth parting in awe. Eren didn't get it. He didn't get her. She was so quiet and so distant, and then she spouted shit like that. She had zero fucking regard for her safety. Holy shit, Eren thought, staring into the tiny girl's awestruck eyes, she's exactly like Armin. Could that mean that Eren could handle her like he handled Armin?

Well, it couldn't hurt to try.

He strode over to her, hopping over the clothe-heaps Mikasa had left upon her floor, and he grabbed Historia's hands and yanked her to her feet. She wobbled a little, blinking at him with her gauzy blue eyes wide and uncertain. She was wearing a wrinkled skirt and thigh highs, making it clear that she had likely just passed out on Armin's bed when she'd returned with Erwin the previous night. Her eyes were droopy and sad, and they were lined with exhaustion and weariness. Pretty as she was, her eyes were jaded, empty things.

"If you're worried about Armin," Eren said, "don't be. He can get by on his own as good as anyone. And, like, there's gotta be a good reason why he didn't tell us where he was goin'. Just have a little faith in him, kay?" He was speaking to himself as much as to her.

She opened her mouth, and then promptly closed it. She was definitely wallowing, that was for sure, but Eren couldn't really understand why. Like, Armin wasn't stupid, right? No, he wasn't. So he was probably okay, even though Eren was a little bit worried himself, but he couldn't let Historia know that. And if she was sad because Ymir was gone, well, tough. It's not like she was alone.

"And anyway," Mikasa continued, "we need you. You might be able to heal yourself, but you can also heal others. That's more important. Way more important than all of our powers. Combined."

"That's pretty true," Eren admitted. Historia balked at that, her eyes darting between him and Mikasa, and her nose scrunching up confusedly. "How can strength even begin to compare to savin' lives? It totally can't."

"I…" Historia seemed to struggle with her words, her voice shaking as she spoke. "It's… I don't just… just save people, it's more complicated, it's—" Eren could see the tears in her eyes, and he put his hand on her head. He saw her flinch, but he paid no mind to it.

"C'mon," he said firmly. "We can't do this without you."

"I've killed someone," she blurted, her voice breaking miserably. "My powers aren't nice. They're terrible. They make me want to drain all the life out of people, they…!"

Eren glanced at Mikasa. She was edging closer to Historia, The tiny girl was trembling rather badly, and Eren felt a little guilty about that, but whatever. She could take it. She was Armin's sister, right? She could totally take it.

"Chill," Eren said, rustling her hair. She jumped, her body coiling and a sob escaping her trembling lips, and tears pooled inside her eyes as she scrubbed at them furiously. "You think we're some holy fuckin' saints, or some shit like that? Do you even know how many people I've put in the hospital by goin' Rogue, because it's a lot. Like, a whole lot."

She shook her head furiously, tangling her hair around his planted fingers and bowing her head in shame.

"I broke Armin's arm when we were little," Mikasa said. "I couldn't control my powers."

"Ymir murdered my mom by accident," Eren said, feeling his anger spike viciously, but even so, he kept it to a tiny snarl and a deep breath. "And Bertholdt too, I guess. And like, shit."

"Hey, you got him to calm down about that," Levi said flatly. "Impressive."

Historia dug the heels of her hands into her eyes and she sniffled and gasped and shook like a leaf. Eren continued to pat her head, rubbing it affectionately as he might do to Armin.

"And Levi's a serial killer," Eren piped up. "Like, seriously, we've all got our damage."

"Thank you for that, Eren," Levi said, "I wanted everyone to know about that. Real nice. You little shit."

Mikasa turned to face Levi, shooting him an angry look and moving toward him, motioning for him to shut up. Historia was openly crying, her little gasps bubbling up every few seconds as she covered her eyes with her hands and shook her head. Damn it, he hadn't wanted her to cry. This sucked. Had he just made things worse for her?

What would I do if it was Armin? Eren asked himself as his hand moved to the back of her head, smoothing the tangles out of her hair.

He pulled her head to his chest, patting her back as she hiccupped, wiping the snot from her nose and sinking against him. Okay, he thought to himself, okay, yeah. This could work. This will work. Hugs always work. She was making the front of his tee shirt all wet, but he couldn't really find it in him to care, so he just hugged her with as little strength as possible, a little scared to like, crush her accidentally or something, and he glanced at Mikasa for reassurance. She shot him a thumbs up, and he could tell that she was proud of him, which was kinda annoying but also kinda sweet.

"So," Mikasa said conversationally as Historia pulled back, still hiccupping as she wiped away her tears. "A serial killer?"

Levi grimaced. "Only people that deserved it."

"Like Dexter," Eren said as Historia hung very close to his side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder loosely, feeling as though if he let her go she might drift off into nothing.

"Not like Dexter," Levi said, looking a little disgruntled. "I didn't enjoy it that much."

"Okay, like Rorschach, then?" Eren tilted his head. "Yeah, you've got a total Rorschach thing goin' on, just way more sane."

"Rorschach, what is—?" Levi rolled his eyes, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is that a superhero?"

"Uh, yeah?" Eren blinked confusedly, glancing from Historia to Mikasa in hopes that one of them might know what he was talking about. They both stared at him vacantly. Historia hiccupped, and wiped at her flushed cheeks. "Watchmen? Sweet Jesus, y'all are deprived."

"Is that a comic…?" Historia said hoarsely.

"Yeah, from the 80's," he said with a shrug, "but it's also a movie. The movie's actually okay, I mean as long as you watch the director's cut it's definitely—"

"Eren," Levi said sharply. "Focus."

"Oh, right." Eren rocked back on his heels. "What were we talking about?"

"Suiting up," Levi said. "All of you."

"Hate," Mikasa muttered, drifting back to Eren and Historia. Levi glowered at her back.

"Don't forget who raised you," he said darkly.

"You did a pretty shitty job."

"Yeah. Clearly."

"Get out of my room," she said flatly.

Levi kicked a bundle of dirty clothes at her, which she caught with great ease. "Clean it," he snapped as he whirled around.

She flipped her middle finger at him with a slight sneer as he left the room. "What an asshole," she spat.

"They're all kinda assholes," Eren admitted. "Except Hange. Hange's only flaw is their smoking."

"Was that a joke?" Historia asked quietly.

"Uh…" Eren frowned. "Well, mostly. Oh, so are you okay now?"

"Yeah…" She nodded quickly, ducking her head so he couldn't see her red-rimmed eyes. "Thank you, Eren… that was really sweet of you…"

"Nah, I wasn't doin' it to be sweet," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I was doin' it 'cause you kinda really needed a hug. Hugs are the best healers, that's what Hange always says."

Historia stared at him. He blinked rapidly, wondering if he'd said something wrong, and he quickly unwound his arm from her shoulder. She looked, for a moment, strangely content as she nodded. She sniffled a little bit, her breathing a little shallow, but otherwise she seemed better.

"I'm… going to go get ready," she said thickly, slumping as she hurried out of the room. Eren and Mikasa watched her go.

"Nice," she said.

"Oh, shut up," he sighed, rubbing his head in irritation. "What would you have done?"

"I don't know," she admitted, sitting back down on her bed. "Maybe the same thing. Maybe I would've punched her."

"No you would not have, don't even lie."

Mikasa cracked a small smile, and she flopped back onto her bed and sighed. "I don't want to do this," she admitted.

That was surprising. Of course Eren had known Mikasa didn't want to do this, but the fact that she was vocalizing it was strange. Usually she just quietly went along with what they were supposed to do, playing her role to its fullest. But she seemed to genuinely not want to do this mission. It wasn't even a hard one, either? They were just… meeting up.

"Then don't come," Eren said.

She sat upright once more, her expression fierce. "What?" she asked blandly.

"Don't come," he said, shrugging. "Stay here and wait for Armin if you hate it so much. You don't really need to come, right?"

"Of course I'm coming," she said fiercely. "I can't just not come."

"But…?" Eren's brow furrowed, and he flung up his hands. "Okay, whatever. Your brain's weird. Have fun being grumpy the entire time."

"I am not grumpy—!"

Eren left the room, shutting the door behind him. The house was so… quiet. He'd grown used to all the noise, all the people roaming around, and it sort of made him ache inside to realize that none of them were coming back. Except Armin, of course. But even so, he felt a strange gnawing in the pit of his stomach, a sense of dread that could not leave him, and he wondered if he was being paranoid or if he truly had a reason to be worried.

It was Armin's birthday. Why had he left on his fucking birthday?

And he was still really angry. Like, really fucking angry. But he was containing that anger. Because… no one needed to deal with his bullshit right now. And… it was a little unwarranted. Kinda. Ugh, he thought, kicking open his door. Why is everything so complicated?

He got dressed into his Rogue uniform, which… shit. Barely fit him. Had he grown? He must have grown. It was really snug, and sort of uncomfortable, but it had been awhile since he'd last worn it. He slapped on a mask, glancing at himself in the mirror and tilting his head. Rogue and Eren existed one and the same. But now it felt a little weird donning a mask. He didn't save innocent bystanders anymore, or catch robbers, or put out fires. The investigation had consumed his entire life.

It made him oddly sad. And nostalgic.

He hopped up onto a stool while he waited for Historia and Mikasa to be finished getting ready, staring at Hange expectantly. They were holding Armin's Cicero costume, frowning at the blurry squiggles that graced the white fabric, unmoving and dull in comparison to the ever-changing words that clung to Armin's sides whenever he moved.

"What'cha up to?" Eren asked, resting his chin in his hands.

"Scrutinizing," they hummed. "Wanna join?"

"What're we scrutinizin' today?" he asked, leaning forward and squinting exaggeratedly at the uniform. "How damn skinny Armin is?"

"Aha, nope!" Hange grinned at him, folding the uniform over their arm. "How this thing works. Like, isn't so strange? Without Armin here, the suit is just a suit. There aren't any words, and the ink doesn't move at all!"

"Well, it reacts with his power, doesn't it?" Eren asked confusedly. Where were they going with this?

"Yeah, yeah," they gasped, their shoulders hunching, "but how?"

"Gosh, I dunno," he said. "It's Armin. He's like, magic."

"Magic is just science we don't understand yet," Hange chirped.

"You got that from Thor!"

"Arthur C. Clarke, actually."

They winked at him. Historia appeared beside him, her long purple cloak trailing at her feet. Her hood would just about cover her face, and serve as a mask of sorts. Which was good. She had a recognizable face, it seemed. Of course, Mikasa and Eren had much more distinguishing features, so they were probably more likely to get caught.

"Did Armin ever tell you how his suit worked, by any chance?" Eren asked her. He didn't really expect her to know. Armin honestly probably didn't even know. But it didn't hurt to ask.

"Um…" She glanced between him and Hange. "No…?"

"Shame," Hange sighed loftily. "Oh well."

"He didn't… tell me a lot," Historia said softly. "I wouldn't know more than anyone else… about that kind of stuff…"

Eren studied her face. She'd pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail, and little bits of pale hair framed her face. She still looked a little weepy, but otherwise a lot better for wear. Beneath the cloak she was wearing leggings and a pale dress that was either blue or white, he couldn't tell. The deep purple washed it out. The deep purple actually washed her out, too. She looked kinda sickly.

"Do you like musicals?" Eren asked curiously.

She gave him a sharp, incredulous look. "What?" she asked blankly.

"Like, y'know. Wicked, or Les Misery—"

"Eren, you know that's not what it's called—"

"Or any Disney movie ever. Stuff like that."

"Uh…" She looked utterly stunned, her lips parted as her eyes flashed, and he knew he'd made her uncomfortable. "I… liked The Hunchback of Notre Dame?"

"Oh, hey!" Eren cried. "That's my favorite!"

"Wait… really?"

"He likes Esmeralda a whole lot, that's why," Hange laughed. Eren shot them a dull glare.

"Well, I was just wonderin' if you liked 'em," Eren said, choosing to ignore Hange. "I mean, Armin loves them. And, like, you like some stuff Armin likes. The horror stuff. Which is pretty cool, but he likes, like, psychological horror, and I'm like…?" Eren leaned back in his stool, his face twisting into a grimace. "Dude, what is wrong with plain ol' trashy horror movies?"

"I like both," she said gently, sitting down carefully beside him. "I think the terrible ones are funny."

"Yeah, that's the best part!"

"Armin only prefers psychological horror, I think, because generic horror bores him." She pursed her lips, giving Eren a thoughtful glance, and she shrugged. "I don't think it's a bad thing."

"Y'know, that actually makes a lot of sense." Eren rested a hand on his fist. "Never thought of it that way."

"I can't read his mind, so I don't really know," she blurted. "Don't take my word for it."

"Nah, you're probably right."

He'd been trying to keep his mind off Armin, but Armin was everywhere. Armin was in the very folds of this household, in the heavy air that they breathed, in their minds even when he was too far to taste, and he was in Historia Reiss's face and in her gauzy eyes as she blinked at him vacantly, like a child or something, like a little kid Eren used to know but was scared that he might've lost somewhere. He didn't know what to do.

He didn't know if he was grown up enough for this.

He always kinda thought he was grown up enough, that he wasn't a child anymore, but with Armin gone it was like being ten years old again. There was a empty, aching fear that swallowed up his heart, the steady rhythm of panic as it drummed against his ribs and crawled up his throat. He didn't want to be alone again. That would be… the worst thing in the world.

When Mikasa and Levi finally decided to appear, they set off. Eren was still toiling with his own thoughts and feelings, sorta on the edge of losing it, but mostly feeling like he had to get calm quick, or else he'd just fuck things up. But his thoughts were calling into the void, trying to tether to a mind that they could not reach, and it was difficult to focus on anything but the strange, vacuous silence.

"What if Armin comes back," Eren mused aloud as they landed in Chicago. Apparently someone had called Jean. Eren didn't really care. "And, like, we're not there. It's his birthday, we should be there."

"He ran off," Levi said. "Not our problem."

"No, that's not true at all," Eren said, feeling desperate to prove to Levi that Armin wasn't the terrible person he thought he was.

"Whatever."

Jean ended up plopping in the seat behind Mikasa, right beside Historia, and he looked around tiredly. The sun was pouring light through the windows of the jet, turning everything a painfully bright white. Jean was wearing sunglasses with his bulletproof uniform, his hair in disarray and his lips parted.

"Get wrecked," Eren commented. Jean lowered his sunglasses, and Eren saw, incredibly amused, that his eyes were totally bloodshot and puffy.

"It's like, seven in the morning… on a goddamn Sunday," Jean said in a coarse voice. "You get fucking wrecked."

"Pretty sure you're already wrecked."

"What did you tell your mom this time?" Mikasa asked.

"Uh, nothing." Jean slid his glasses back up, and he settled into his seat. "I just left."

"She ain't gonna call you, or nothin'?" Eren scoffed. "If I did that to Hange, they'd probably kick my ass, or like, pour chemicals on my jeans, or somethin'."

"I'll just tell her I went to the gym, or something." Jean sneered at Eren, and it made his face look even more unpleasant to look at. "Like, it's not a big deal. Hey, wait, where's Armin?"

Historia sighed beside him, and Eren twisted in his seat to get a better look at her. She yanked up her hood and sunk very low, bundling herself up in her purple cloak and looking as though she wanted to disappear completely. Eren didn't blame her. She was probably still worried about Armin, just like he was. For her it was probably worse. She'd been with him. Maybe she felt like she could've stopped him, or gone with him. Eren would feel a lot better if Historia was with him, actually.

"Uh…" Jean sounded so hopelessly, stupidly confused. It was hilarious. "Okay, either something bad happened, or Historia just became a burrito because she's cold."

"Armin ran off last night," Mikasa explained.

Eren hung over his seat, watching Historia peek out from under her hood. She looked even worse than Jean. Her eyes were bloodshot, puffy, and sunken into her face. She looked like she hadn't slept at all. She looked like she was about to burst into tears again. Eren felt bad for her, but at the same time he didn't get it. What the fuck was so bad that she was so distant, anyway? Did she really need Ymir back that bad? Like, Armin was gone, and Eren wasn't outwardly sulky about it!

Whiny, a little, yeah, okay, but not sulky!

Uh… right?

"What do you mean, he ran off?" Jean asked. "How does that even happen?"

"He took the Knight Bus to the Leaky fuckin' Cauldron," Eren replied. His voice was clipped and sardonic. "How the hell do you think it happened?"

"Well, I don't know!" Jean was sneering again. "I'm lucky if I'm even in the loop half the time with you people!"

"Connie and Sasha are way worse off, you know, we hardly ever tell them anything."

"Which might be why," Jean said, rolling his eyes, "you know, Connie didn't tell us about his great aunt Ymir."

"Ymir is Connie's great aunt?" Historia piped up, pulling her hood back ever so slightly. She looked genuinely curious, her eyes brightening up considerably.

"We should really work on that communication thing, actually," Eren said, rubbing his head irritably.

The rest of the trip was mildly amusing. Levi and Erwin bickered a little, which was incredibly fun to listen to, if only because it was Levi and Erwin. Levi was just being… well, kinda an asshole, honestly, while Erwin was reacting as Erwin tended to. Placidly, with a level tone and easy words. Eren wondered what it'd be like to be raised by him. Probably a little frightening.

"Hey, I've got a question," Eren called, mustering up his courage. Levi didn't even bother glancing at him. Erwin was too busy piloting. He took their mutual silence as a go ahead. "So why did you two never adopt Armin and Mikasa?"

"What?" Mikasa asked sharply, looking at him as though he'd just punched her in the gut, or something even more heinous like stab her in the arm.

"Well, sorry, I wanna know," he told her.

"It's not quite as simple as you might think it is, Eren," Erwin offered. His voice was light, but Eren could hear how hard and cold it was underneath the exterior, and he wondered what this man was feeling. Why he was steeling himself all of a sudden.

"Yeah, uh," Levi said, "I can't adopt Mikasa because of my drug problems."

"Wait," she said in a very quiet voice, "what?"

"Yeah, I'm not allowed," he said, blinking back at her. "What's that face for, brat?"

"How do you know that for sure…?" she asked, sitting very still and looking very alarmed.

Levi was staring at her, and Eren felt a little guilty now for asking. It really hadn't been any of his business, but he'd really wanted to know. But now Levi was looking at Mikasa with a strange resignation in his eyes. It was too strange to see, and too hard to look away.

"I've already been evaluated," he said, "in terms of if legal adoption is a suitable option. They pretty much told me I can't adopt ever. I have a criminal record, for one thing, and a pretty nasty one at that. Drug addiction. I was abused as a kid, and they took that into account because of how fucked up I already appeared to be to them. The only reason why I'm allowed to keep you is because I started going by the legal name Ackerman, so it looks like I'm related to you."

Eren was staring at Levi, so he didn't see Mikasa's expression when he felt her slump in her seat. But that's not fair, Eren thought. That's not fair at all! But he couldn't say anything, and he was suddenly aware of the enormity of it all. He'd always thought, in terms of Levi's terrible past, that he could always just look to the future to get through it. But that wasn't true. His past would follow him everywhere. He'd be attempting to shake off his previous mistakes until he reached his grave. And that… was unbelievably sad.

"You never told me that," Mikasa said quietly.

"I didn't think it mattered." Levi turned away from them, and Eren glanced at Mikasa's face. She looked stricken, her lips parted and her shoulders hunched, and he wished he could hear her thoughts, or mentally reassure her somehow, but there was nothing binding their minds together, and Eren was lost. Armin was such a powerful glue. What could they do without him?

It was very quiet in the plane for about a minute as this information settled in their brains. Not even Jean, as mouthy as he was, spoke up to comment. Eren knew that Hange was powerful, so it probably made sense that they could easily adopt when people less fortunate like Levi had to face the reality of the system. Can't Hange just adopt everyone? Eren found himself thinking. It was a silly thought, a desperate thought, and he imagined going back in time and being able to play with his friends in Hange's apartment while Hange made fun science experiments and taught them about stars and light and the Doppler effect.

"I've actually been putting off adopting Armin," Erwin said, "because I'm not sure if that's what he wants."

"Wow, that's dumb," Eren said flatly. "Of course that's what he wants."

"You've got no tact at all, do you?" Jean muttered from behind him. Eren shot him a glare.

"Sorry, what? Am I really getting judged by a horse-faced stoner, because that's fuckin' hilarious, please, go on."

"What the fuck is your issue, man?"

Eren opened his mouth to retort that Jean should get baked on his own time, and that he looked like he'd just crawled out of a dumpster, but Mikasa pulled on his ear sharply. Perhaps she'd sensed where his thoughts had been heading. Maybe they didn't really need the mindlink after all.

"Erwin," Historia called, straightening up in her seat. "You should adopt him. While you still can."

Eren wrenched his face away from Mikasa's grasp. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked the tiny girl.

She said nothing. She stared at him with her dull blue eyes heavily lidded, and she kept her mouth firmly shut. Eren didn't get it.

"Armin's sixteen now," Mikasa reminded Eren. "He'll be eighteen in two years."

"Well, that's silly." Eren kind of regretted bringing this up now.

They landed in Oregon after a few hours, meeting up with Sasha and Connie as they entered the hospital. Without Armin to make them invisible they got a lot of unwanted attention. Eren wondered if that was what Erwin wanted. If this was all a gamble. They quickly explained what happened to Bertholdt and Reiner, and then about Armin's disappearance, covering the basics of what they missed the past few days.

"You did a ballet?" Sasha asked Mikasa eagerly. "That's so cool!"

"Yeah, my feet are still blistered," she admitted. Her voice was a little muffled by her Nio mask. Eren looked between her and Levi, who wore a mask nearly identical as Freiheit. It was actually pretty interesting to see, because Eren had never seen them on a mission together before.

"We were wondering if you guys were actually gonna make it," Connie said, bouncing relatively fast as they moved up the stairwell to the Burn unit. "What with the blizzard, and stuff."

"Blizzard?" Eren asked confusedly. "What the sweet hoppin' hell?"

Sasha giggled into her hand, likely at his accent, which forced him to glower at her. Why was it so funny when his drawl became really thick, like what was with that? He couldn't help but flush in embarrassment.

"Y'know, that huge blizzard…?" Connie stared at them with his acutely shaped eyebrows furrowing. "The east coast got slammed with snow a few hours ago."

"Not New York," Mikasa said.

"Yeah, no." Eren shook his head. "There wasn't a blizzard when we left."

"Apparently Massachusetts got it real bad," Sasha said, adjusting the strap of her quiver. "But we only caught a little bit of Good Morning America before you guys showed up."

"Isn't it a little early for blizzards, though?" Connie whined. "I mean, it was just Halloween!"

"It's very strange," said Erwin. His voice was flat. Emotionless. Carefully devoid of any emotion. Eren studied his back suspiciously, and he glanced at Mikasa. They'd had the same thought again. It was clear by the way her dark eyes swiveled to his face, and then to Historia.

Something was definitely up.

They came upon Petra's room, and Eren was relieved to see her sitting up in bed. She glanced at them, and she waved a little meagerly. Aside from her elevated, bandaged leg, she seemed to be okay. She had her laptop resting on one leg, and she was typing one-handed as they entered.

"Friction, Freeshooter," Erwin said. Or, by the sound of his voice, ordered. "Stay outside. Guard the door."

"Um…?" Sasha and Connie glanced at each other. Then finally, Connie shrugged, and in a great blur of green he was gone, and a burst of air was left in his wake. Sasha followed him without comment, throwing a curious glance back at them.

"Nio," Erwin ordered, "Freiheit. Stand by the window."

They did not make any sort of objections as they moved to the window, Mikasa standing on the left and Levi standing on the right. Their twin Nio masks looked rather ominous in the shadow of the morning light that trailed into the cramped hospital room.

"Rogue, Vitae," Erwin said quietly, "by me."

Eren hesitantly went to Erwin's side, while Historia looked a little more apprehensive. Jean was standing alone, looking puzzled as he glanced between the door and the window. Eren was getting the distinct feeling in the pit of his stomach, like something really terrible was about to happen. Erwin would know.

"Vitae," Erwin said, a warning held sternly in his voice. Historia stood, her purple hood shrouding her face, and she stiffened when he called out to her.

"Er— Augur," she started in her soft little voice, "what did you—?"

"This isn't request, Vitae. Stand beside me." Erwin's voice was so demanding that Eren found himself alarmed, and a little intimidated. Actually, a lot intimidated.

Historia hesitantly walked to Erwin's side, her head bowed and her body coiled with tension. Eren wondered what she knew. He wondered what was going to happen. This can't be good, can it? He glanced around, and his eyes settled on Jean, who looked completely lost.

"Heal her," Erwin said. "Quickly."

Historia didn't need to be told that twice. She leaned forward, pushing her cloaked back and laying her hands over Petra's leg. Petra looked a little bemused as Historia's fingers twitched against the air, drawing little shapes until suddenly the air grew thick and light bloomed from her fingers, golden and stretching thickly all up her arms and around Petra's leg, energy roaring into life and flashing in the dim blue of Historia's eyes. The gold stretched until it snapped, and it burst all across the room, bouncing light in every corner and cranny until it was everywhere at once, and then suddenly nowhere at all.

She took a step back, her head bowed, and she nodded curtly to Erwin. Petra looked bewildered, and she reached up to touch her bandaged leg.

"Holy—!" she cried, her lips quirking into a disbelieving grin.

"Freiheit," Erwin barked, "Ricochet. Get her out of here. Now."

"What?" Jean asked sharply. Levi had already started forward, while Erwin looked toward the window with a hard expression. He pushed Historia very carefully behind him, his arm hovering protectively over her head.

"She's going to get shot," Erwin said. "Soon. Within the minute. Freiheit?"

"I've got her," Levi said quietly. He'd picked up Petra, much to her dismay, for she was flushing and reaching rather desperately for her laptop, her arms flailing mildly.

"Wait, wait!" she gasped. "My computer!"

"Not important," Levi said, carrying her to the doorway. Jean followed hesitantly, his eyes darting from Erwin to Levi to Mikasa. He'd pulled out one of his guns.

"Like hell, it's not important!" She twisted in his grasp, her bandaged foot kicking up as she peeked over his shoulder. "Jea— uh, Ricochet, right? Grab my computer!"

"Jeez," Jean muttered, turning back to the bed and slamming her laptop shut. "What's even on here now? More names?"

"Locations," she corrected. "Actually. As in, I was able to trace where the other institute buildings are. You know, Rose in Oklahoma, and then Sina in Massachusetts. I even got some good images of them, so you guys can infiltrate—"

"Rogue!" Erwin shouted, rounding on Eren. "Now. Do it now!"

At first Eren had no idea what he was talking about, and he took a tiny, fearful step back. And then he looked toward the window, and he understood. He grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply until he felt his bone snap, and he gritted his teeth as the fracture sent pain shooting up his arms and through his nerves until his nerves jutted out of his skin in glistening red ribbons, steam rising from his skin as lightning darted around his fingers as bone and muscle and nerves bundled around his broken appendage, shooting outward and wrapping rapidly like weaving snakes in a great succession of mass.

Just as a bullet shattered the window, Rogue's hand smashed through the wall. Eren felt the bullet imbed in his palm, and the entire room quaked as the wall collapsed under the force of his giant arm crashing into it. Mikasa jumped away, landing with ease on Petra's bed and crouching as her fingers flew to the pummel of her sword.

"Get Petra out of here!" Erwin shouted as the ceiling cracked, and dust leaked across the air, showering them in powdery white.

Jean and Levi fled the room, and Mikasa unsheathed her sword as she leapt off the bed. "What now?" she asked as Eren withdrew his massive fist from the wall.

Erwin inhaled very sharply. Perhaps he didn't know. He'd stopped one future from happening, but what could possibly happen next? Eren squinted through the dust and rubble and he saw a figure kneeling on the roof across from them. Mikasa seemed to have noticed as well, because she backed away, her boots cracking against sheetrock as she called behind her.

"Sasha! I need your bow."

"Huh?" Sasha poked her head in, hunched over with her arms folded protectively over her head. "For what? What're you gonna—?" And then she seemed to see as well. She straightened up, and she shook out her bow, drawing an arrow from her quiver.

"Who is that?" Sasha whispered, notching the arrow.

"Kenny Ackerman," Mikasa growled. Eren was surprised at how furious she was. "Can you get a clear shot at him?"

"You want me to shoot him?" She sounded distressed, and her eyes flashed very wide. And then she squinted through the dust, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "No, it's too dusty. I can definitely get onto the roof, though."

"No, Sasha," Mikasa said firmly. "You're not going. He's too good at hand-to-hand, and you haven't got any powers."

"I'll go," Eren gasped, wrenching his hand free as his Rogue arm unraveled. There was so much steam and dust in the room now, he could hardly breathe, let alone see. "I can heal."

"No way!" Mikasa gasped. "He's too fast, you wouldn't be able to—"

"Yo, I'm drawing," Sasha said, pulling her bowstring taut. "Whoever is going, make up your minds!"

Eren shook off the excess nerves, steam clouding his vision as he squinted at Mikasa's face. She was very clearly not very happy about any of this, her dark eyes flashing beneath the slits of her mask, but she had no choice. He was beginning to feel the pressure here, amongst the smoke and dust and frigid air, and he felt it bite into his bones.

"Let's go together," he said to her. He offered out his hand.

Sasha released her arrow, and it sailed through the air, a strong cord snapping taut as it took purchase on the opposite roof. Mikasa grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, throwing her sword over the cable so the long silvery fabric that kept it attached to its sheath bundled around it, and she grasped her hilt in order to make a closed hoop. Then, suddenly, she was dragging him into open air.

It was exhilarating, yes, and mildly terrifying as his body hung limply by only his arm in her vise grip. Every muscle in him was screaming, and his shoulder was aching terribly from having to support all his weight as they sailed through the air, his stomach utterly left behind in the rubble and dust, and he felt like he'd been filled with something like bubbles or helium or a thousand flittering butterflies battering at his innards. He was breathless, and he could not see in the rush of wind and in the warm mist of his own breath, and suddenly he was rolling on the sharp gravel of a rooftop.

He rolled onto his feet, his hand in his fist, and he watched Mikasa as she spun on the tips of her toes to duck a blow from this old man who'd put both her and Levi in the hospital. She ducked, and flung her sword at him, retrieving and whipping it away at just the right moment so he could not grasp the silvery fabric attached to its pummel.

"I thought I told you," Mikasa spat, sounding breathless as she flipped away from his flying fists. Her boots kicked up grayish gravel, spitting it into the air as she dodged another blow, and then another, on the tips of her toes and swirling as though in a sequence of dance. "Leave us alone!"

"You've got guts, kiddo!" Kenny Ackerman laughed as he kicked her very hard in the stomach, and she made a sharp choking noise as her body skidded across the expanse of the roof, her arms and legs flipping over each other as she struggled to stop. "Hell of a lot more than your little whore of a father."

The sound Mikasa made from across the roof was like an animal snatching its prey, a feral snarl that tore across the air as she leapt to her feet. "You don't know anything!" she rasped, holding her sword in a reverse grip as her body curled back defensively.

"Brat, you don't know anything," Kenny said, pulling a gun from beneath his coat and pointing it at her. "Your papa's pretty gross. Spent lots of time sleepin' around. With all sorts of nasty people. Boys and girls, old and young! You'd be so much better off without him."

Eren snapped his wrist again, letting the feeling of Rogue's flesh enveloping his arm overwhelm him. He was enraged. This was utter bullshit! Levi could be… well, an asshole, undeniably, but he didn't deserve any of this. Isn't this guy his father? Eren thought vehemently as his Rouge fist smashed into the ground where Kenny had been standing a split second before. The roof cracked beneath the weight, and gravel coughed up all around him, imbedding in his skin as he reached out. Four gunshots force Eren to bite his tongue, four bullets completely tearing apart one of his fingers at point blank range. Kenny jumped atop Eren's knuckled and started running.

Eren shook him off like he might shake off a bug, and he stumbled back when that didn't work, and Kenny landed beside him. Aw, Eren thought as his arm unraveled once again, his body not up for the stress it took to keep one limb at Rogue size for longer than a minute. He hadn't eaten much that morning, and he'd probably burned away any nutrition the cereal had given him. Fuck.

He attempted to punch Kenny in face, his dark fist flying against the icy air, but he was caught completely off guard by the speed of this man's reflexes, and he jerked away at the last second, grasping Eren forearm and twisting it behind his back. Eren cried out in shock, not used to being so quickly apprehended, and he felt something very cold kiss the back of his neck. He shuddered, feeling nausea crawl around inside the pit of his stomach as every hair on his body stood on end and his breath caught inside his throat.

"Kay, girly," Kenny Ackerman said, digging the barrel of his gun into the nape of Eren's neck. "Put that sword away. Nice and slow."

Eren watched, horrified, as Mikasa stood frozen only a few yards away, her body caught in mid-motion. She'd been running to his aid, but Kenny was too fast. We fucked up, Eren thought, sweat prickling on his brow as his heart thudded in his chest.

"Mikasa, don't—!" he cried as she shoved her sword back into the sheath at the small of her back. She bowed her head, her mask askew. She was staring at him, her eyes shadowed and her body tense. Kenny kicked the back of his knees, and he was forced to genuflect, his breathing growing ragged as he realized the true enormity of the situation at him. A bullet to the back of his neck would kill him.

That was for certain.

"Okay, okay, nice." Kenny's voice was coarse, but strangely loud and excited. Levi's voice was always soft and monotone, if not chilly and distant. "Now that I've got your undivided attention, let me let you in on a little secret. Levi owes me his goddamn sanity. When I found him, he was a broken little toy brought out into the light every once and awhile to be fucked at leisure. I gave him a purpose beyond that." Eren felt sick to his stomach. "Take off that mask. It's annoying."

Mikasa hesitantly pushed her Nio mask onto her head, baring her face to them. She looked absolutely livid, her teeth bare and her eyes flashing dangerously. Eren was trying to think fast, but the problem was that he really couldn't think. He was lost in his own head, and there was a gun against his weak spot, and this guy was manipulating Mikasa, and it was a little terrifying.

"What do you want?" Eren asked sharply. "Like, why are you assholes even after Petra, anyway?"

"Ha ha," Kenny snorted, "this kid's got guts too. Now, you're Grisha's kid, right?"

Eren thought his heart might've stopped in that moment. His father. Yes, his father. Shit. His father. "How do you know him?" Eren blurted, staring wide eyed at Mikasa as she stared right back at him, looking wary and hardened. He could tell she was scared, though. It was written in the way she held herself. She was scared out of her wits, just like Eren.

"Eh, I met him a few times here and there. You've got a lot more spunk then him, lemme tell you. How about I take you to him, kid?"

Eren nearly laughed. "No thanks," he spat. "I'll pass." But in the back of his mind, a part of him wondered. If I can get to my dad, Eren thought wildly, can't I help Armin out with his headaches? And the seizures? And the hallucinations?

"Or," Kenny said, easing very low so his breath tickled Eren's ear, "I could just blow your head off."

"Was this ever about Petra?" Mikasa asked, her voice thin. "Or do you just like threatening people?"

"Uh, both, honestly!" Kenny's voice was too loud. Eren thought if he could just get the gun off him for two seconds, he'd probably… be able to escape… probably… "Apparently the chick's been a pest, so taking her out was the objective. You two are a way better prize, though."

"How's the shoulder, then?" Mikasa asked dully.

"You're testing my patience, girly."

Mikasa took a deep, unsteady breath. Wind howled against Eren's ears, toying with his and Mikasa's hair was they stared each other down. He didn't know what to do. On one hand, life was pretty nice, and seeing his dad could help Armin, and possibly Levi, but then there was that whole stubbornness thing which was the whole reason why Eren was still debating. Also, Levi's dad was a scumbag, and Eren was going to try to rip his tongue out from his throat.

There was the faint sound of something whooshing, and before Eren could even turn his head, Kenny Ackerman was suddenly on the ground, and gravel was spitting into Eren's face. He stared in awe and confusion at the blur of green that whirred to kick the man in the face, and then kicked his gun over the side of the building. Then, the blur was on the other side of the roof, bouncing on his feet. Connie, Eren thought in amazement. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked up as Historia knelt down beside him.

"You're not hurt," she asked, sounding genuinely concerned as she searched his face, "are you?"

"Well, you'd know, right?" he offered weakly. She smiled, and she took his hand, pulling him to his feet.

"You're okay," she said, pulling him toward the zipline cord that Sasha's arrow had made. "Come on, we should—" A gunshot tore across the thin morning air, sharper than the frigid November wind and louder than its terrible wail. Eren felt something whizz past his ear.

Warm blood burst across his face.

It was so hot against the frosty lash of wind upon Eren's cheeks, it almost burned him. He felt it on his nose, trickling down warmly against the grooves of his lips. He felt it cling to his eyebrows, and he could smell it as it washed over his skin. His mouth fell open in horror, and it poured into his mouth, acrid and metallic as it signed his tongue.

Historia's forehead had a peculiar little hole in it. Blood seemed to be painted across her pale hair, smeared over her eyelids and sliding fast over her tiny nose in thick rivulets. Eren remembered how Armin had looked when Eren's blood had soaked his face. And suddenly he felt like he was going to puke.

"Historia—!" He reached out to catch her, but four bullets crashed into his back and he buckled at the familiar pain, the familiar crushing feeling of bullets crashing into him. He heard Mikasa's shouts as he buckled to his knees, and his hair was yanked back. Eren didn't have the energy to become Rogue. And even if he did, he'd take down the entire building. He hadn't planned this well. If only Armin were here, Eren thought distantly as Kenny Ackerman pressed the barrel of this new gun to Eren's forehead. The pain wasn't so agonizing, but he could feel his skin healing around the bullets.

Historia was lying on her side, her dull eyes glassy, foggy with death. And Eren didn't know what to do.

"You—" Eren choked, dizzy and sickened and ready to rip the entire world apart. "You fuckin' bastard—!"

"Aha, oopsie," Kenny said. "Did I kill one of your little friends? Actually, hold on a moment. I should make sure she wasn't important, probably."

Eren wanted to scream. He listened to Kenny dial on his cell phone, and he Eren closed his eyes as the gun's barrel scraped the sweaty skin of his forehead. He didn't want to look at Historia's face. It looked too much like Armin's.

"Yo," Kenny said into his phone, "so I might've shot one of them. A complete accident, of course."

"I'm gonna to kill you," Eren snarled. His eyes snapped open just as Kenny's gun came smashing upon the side of Eren's face, forcing him to eat gravel as his ears rung, and his head throbbed, and his back attempted to heal itself as it zapped away all his energy at once. He was so tired… couldn't he just sleep now…? Maybe…?

Fuck this.

"The little blonde girl," Kenny was saying. "Cute. It was annoying me."

Eren looked up, his entire body objecting to even the slightest movement, and he saw Mikasa holding Connie back, staring at him with wild eyes. Eren wasn't terrified anymore. He was disgusted. He was so disgusted, in fact, that his rage was overtaking him, and he thought he might just transform somehow into Rogue anyway, just to rip Kenny Ackerman apart. He deserved it. He deserved it like no one on this earth deserved to suffer.

"Did you now? Dead or alive?" Kenny kicked Eren in the face. Eren saw nothing but a blinding rush of white, and his nose crunched as he head was turned to the gravel once more. He swallowed thickly, Historia's cooling blood still burning inside of his mouth, searing his tongue with its very existence, and it mingled with his own blood, hot and fresh and congealing.

"Okay, okay. You want a matching set, I get it. Add it to your little blonde corpse collection. Have at it." Kenny hung up, his boot resting on Eren's cheek. He could feel the grooves of the shoe soles, feel the dirt smear against his skin, mixing with Historia's blood. Eren needed to find a weapon. He needed to find something, he needed to do something!

"Hey," Kenny said, prodding Eren's cheek with his toe. "Kid. I've got an even better proposition for you."

"Fuck no," Eren spat, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He was close to tears, close to sobbing, close to screaming until his lungs collapsed. He was so close to letting himself be consumed by his grief and rage, he didn't even care about the smug look on Kenny's face.

"C'mon, kid. Hear me out!" Kenny pointed his gun at Mikasa then, and Eren wondered if she had attempted to move. "So, looks like the bossman's got a little somethin'. He's willing to negotiate."

"Negotiate?' Eren coughed, and he bared his teeth. No. There would be no negotiations. Just… pain. For them. "Tell your bossman… to go throw himself on a rusty fuckin' railroad spike!"

"Come with me," the man said, "and you can see Armin Arlelt again."

Eren stared up at him. Blood was obscuring his vision. Historia's blood. Historia, Armin's sister. Who was lying dead right beside him. Tears rushed into his eyes. No. This wasn't right. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense, it wasn't fair!

"Liar," Eren whispered, his voice shaky. "You're bluffing."

"Yeah, uh, I don't know who this Armin kid is," Kenny said, lifting his boot from Eren's face. "But, apparently he's not doing so hot. This might be your last chance to ever see him, if he means anything to you. Bossman thinks he does."

Eren was breathing rather heavily. He was lying. He had to be lying. It made no sense that the institute would have Armin. Unless…?

Erwin and Armin think the same, Eren thought in horror. Armin wouldn't… Armin didn't turn himself in, right? No, he couldn't. He wouldn't!

"Thank you."

Eren heard a soft little voice speak up from beside him. He turned his head, and watched Historia Reiss, her blood dripping down her pretty little face, slithering against her rosy skin as she sat up, tossing her hood back. There was something strange in her gauzy blue eyes. Something like silver ringing around her pupils. Eren felt his heart drop into his stomach in utter relief, and he wondered if this was what Armin and Mikasa had felt like when they had thought he had died.

Kenny actually jumped in surprise at the suddenly very much alive girl. He moved his gun to her face, but she'd already flung her hands out, stretching them as she rose to her feet. Kenny Ackerman froze in his place. His eyes widened in shock. In fear.

In pain.

Eren sat up, her blood still half-blinding him. Her fingertips were silver. Her eyes were silver too. Everything was suddenly silver light, like the moon had broken out in the daytime and eclipsed all other light, even the sun, and spilt its shine all across the globe from just one little wave of a little girl's tiny finger.

"I can find Armin now," Historia said in a bright, giddy voice. Her eyes were glowing a serene sort of silver. They were heavily lidded, and suddenly very aware. She glowered at him. "If you were anyone else, I'd probably let you live. But you're not. You're scum."

Eren watched in awe as the silver in the air expanded, illuminating the morning like a beacon bursting in the night, and it was suddenly so cold that Eren could feel blood freezing upon his cheeks, crystallizing against his nose and mouth, and the tears in his eyes iced up at the corners. He was shivering in the silvery miasma, ice and snow and fear pressing upon him as Historia raised both hands very high, and the light grew so bright it burned his eyes. Then she flicked her wrists, and Kenny Ackerman gave a short, visceral shriek of agony as the light blew apart in a hundred thousand fractals of energy, and then sucked itself all back together, condensing in a roaring icy sphere that collided with Historia's chest, sending her flying onto her back.

Kenny Ackerman's body fell, crumpling at the tiny girl's feet like a marionette whose strings had been sliced.

Eren scrambled to her side, helping her upright as she shuddered, clutching her chest and coughing a little. Her eyes darted up to Eren's face, and he saw the silver in them leaking across her bloody cheeks, dissipating very nearly upon contact. Mikasa and Connie came rushing to them, though Connie reached them first, and this time after he kicked Kenny Ackerman's gun away, he actually checked to make sure the man was down. Mikasa fell to her knees beside Eren, pressing her hand into his back, and all he could do was tell her he was fine before Historia collapsed to her hands and knees and vomited.

"He's dead," Connie whispered.

Eren placed his hand against Historia's back as she retched, her body trembling, and her eyes wild with terror and confusion and despair. He could hear her sobbing between intakes of breaths and upheavals.

"Get his phone," Eren told Connie. "It's literally the only thing that's got worth on that piece of trash."

He rubbed slow circles against Historia's back as she continued to puke, her body wracking and quaking, and she was soon sobbing unlike she'd ever sobbed, or like anyone had ever sobbed before, her voice carrying across the shrill wind and breaking like huge, echoing thunderclaps, and he wondered if she wasn't some kind of god in human skin, forced to be human and have human feelings. Like grief. And despair. And fear.

She's so scared, Eren thought, pulling back her hood. It had fallen over her face again. She shouldn't be scared. She's got nothing to be afraid of anymore.

"Don't cry, Historia," Eren said, leaning a little into Mikasa's one-armed embrace. He was falling asleep. He hadn't taken his medication that morning. That explained a lot. "You just saved us. Hey. Look."

When she did, her eyes were back to that same old dull blue, no silver, no film of death, just a strange distance that was a result of her pretending to be something she clearly was not. Through all the blood, and all the tears, Eren thought he could definitely see her for what she really was. Human. Just like the rest of them.

He licked his thumb, and rubbed it against her forehead. It smeared the blood around minutely. She stared at him, looking bewildered, and she hiccupped.

"You've got a little somethin' on your face," he offered.

She blinked rapidly.

And then, tearfully, she began to laugh.


Today I actually managed to finish the story (there's thirty six chapters), which is good because I start school tomorrow and I have two gift fics to write and very little time to write them. So cheers to that.

None of you can understand the immense satisfaction I felt upon killing Kenny Ackerman. Fuck that dude.

Ah, fun fact, Levi's entire motif (in canon!) was based on Rorschach from Watchmen. That's why I brought it up. Isayama must be a comic book nerd. Also Watchmen is DC so if you're ever like, "ooh, levi's batman-y!" no he's not he's literally based on Rorschach and the only thing he has in common with bruce wayne is the fact that he's responsible for WAY too many kids who he mistreats because of his emotional constipation.

i'd love to see some fanart of levi as batman and new squad levi as robins tbh