They stopped at the inner gates.
Mostly it was because Eren had managed to wake up from his brief spell of unconsciousness and had resumed his struggles against Mikasa. Eventually, it was bound to happen—he got away and ran towards Hannes and his sister.
Elvan had apparently given up. The long, painful claw marks were testament to her anger, but she now hung as limply in Hannes's arms as Carla had been in her final moments. "Eren—" Hannes began tiredly, depositing Elvan on the ground. She fell in a heap, limp and still in the dust, as Eren attacked the soldier, doing little in comparison to the bruising punches and stinging words Elvan had delivered. "What are you doing?"
"We were so close—Elvan had Mom—" Eren enunciated his every word with a punch. They were weak and sloppy, but his heart wasn't in it. Why? Did something within him know that they never could have saved her? Or was he unable to really blame the Garrison soldier? "Why couldn't you mind your own business? We were so close—"
"That's enough!" Hannes shouted, and Eren felt himself thrown backward. He landed hard enough to knock the wind out of him as he gasped for air. Mikasa rushed to his side, offering help and comfort, but he made no move to accept as Hannes lowered himself to eye level. "You couldn't save your mother because you lacked the strength."
Before his small, useless fist was even in motion, his wrist was encased in an unmoving hand. The older man's face was grieved, saddened, afraid, and angry all at once. "And I couldn't stand up to the Titan because I lacked the courage! I'm sorry!" And then they were walking again, an empty shell following closely behind him, haunted blank eyes wearing away at Hannes's skull.
"Elvan," Eren cried suddenly. "Elvan!"
She didn't respond, but he jerked out of the soldier's grip and hurried back to his sister. She was walking dumbly at a constant pace, as if she wasn't quite awake. The yellowed fabric of her dress was soaked with blood. It occurred to him that he had no idea where she'd been when the house was destroyed, and no idea if it was only their mother's. Eren swallowed and pushed himself into her side and under her arm. She was largely unresponsive, but it still felt like a comfort. When was the last time he'd even thought of touching his sister? When was the last time he hadn't hated her? Eren couldn't remember it. But now, she may as well have been the only surviving member of his blood family. How was their dad supposed to find them in all this chaos?
They were alone now, him and Elvan and Mikasa. Alone. He didn't even know if Armin had made it. Armin… his best friend and Eren had just left him behind. Should he have made sure Armin was safe, first, before going after his mother? If Armin was dead, that was on him, too…
"Do everything you can to get on board one of these boats. I'll put you at the front of the line," Hannes was saying, and they were pushing through a crowd of people who were desperate to escape. If we take someone's place, Eren thought, that will be my fault, too. "I'm—I'm so sorry."
They walked onto the boat and Eren felt Elvan move with purpose for the first time. He felt oddly pronounced muscles in her torso and arms shifting as she held him snug and grabbed Mikasa, then turned. And then, she said some awful words, cold and sincere: "You don't talk to us. Killer."
The last Eren saw of Hannes, he looked positively stricken.
She could hear them arguing about the gate even from the boat, and knew that the people still trapped on the ground were probably terrified. The soldiers were, after all, arguing about whether to close the gate. It could potentially cost them their lives.
It's happened again.
Perhaps it was true that she'd never felt the same way about Elvan as she had with Eren, but she still felt safer than the cold, ugly silence hanging around them. Mikasa pressed her face into the material of Elvan's shirt and shut her eyes. She didn't want to watch anyone else die. She hadn't watched what had happened to Carla, but her imagination had managed to paint an all too real picture.
Eren is alive, she told herself. And now that he knew what Titans were truly like, he might not want to join the Scout Regiment anymore. He'll be safe. But even those words were not enough to comfort her and Mikasa stared blankly ahead, watching the sobbing and screaming crowds on the cobblestone.
He'll be safe.
But it was as if Mikasa was having an awful flashback—she could still hear the terrible crunching of pavement beneath that Titan's feet and could feel the vibrations from its movement shooting through her feet and legs. The water rippled at the edges of the channel.
The…
The water rippled.
Mikasa could only watch helplessly as she realized that her imagination could not cause the water to ripple or the boat to rock.
Would the Fates truly be so cruel to a single person? Her family? Carla? And now… something else? How could so many terrible things happen to her in just over a year? Was she destined to lose everything?
Mikasa, strong and cold, gripped the yellowing fabric of Eren's older sister's shirt so tightly that her knuckles paled.
Wall Maria exploded. The epicenter? A huge Titan, far beefier and shorter than the other, its muscles covered with something dull and stony. It slid forward several meters and then stopped. Mikasa could no longer see many of its features—the light coming behind it rendered the creature's entire front shadowed.
She knew people were screaming but heard only silence. It seemed almost peaceful.
But Mikasa knew that, as little peace as there was now, it would soon be gone. Such a gaping hole would bring monsters, and with them, the death of every civilian who'd been left behind.
He'll be safe.
But they won't.
She never saw the Titans enter the gate, and by the time they did, they were far away.
Elvan's bruising hold on them had softened, but she still seemed to be absent from her body. It was as if she'd lost all ability to speak. She wasn't making any noise at all; she wasn't even crying, like Eren, who was watching a salty tear fall onto his scraped, splintered, bruised hands.
He couldn't seem to stop crying. Mikasa had avoided thinking about it at all but she knew that was all Eren could do - think about it.
"Eren," she said, following him as he suddenly rose to look at the world they were retreating from. He was muttering something incomprehensible, and his body seemed still.
"Eren?" Armin asked, touching the boy's shoulder, but Eren jerkily shoved him aside. "...drive them out," Eren said fanatically. "I'll drive them all out - every single one of them from this world!"
"Eren," Armin said softly, looking concerned. "Mikasa, what…"
Mikasa was in no mood to talk about the Titan with the odd, lipless grin. She didn't want to talk about Carla. She didn't even want to think of them anymore. Mikasa was in complete and utter control of her own life, and she would not allow their deaths to affect her. They were apart from her now. Her job still remained—protect Eren. Do everything for him. Make sure that he lives. Protect Eren. "Why don't you go talk to Elvan," she 'suggested', taking her place by her angered savior and dismissing Armin with only words.
"Where's—"
"Armin, please," Mikasa said tiredly peering over the horizon as she shut her eyes.
"I'm—" Armin paused. "I'm so sorry."
"But it isn't your fault. It's stupid to apologize for something you couldn't have stopped. Now go."
Her legs ached.
She'd been standing in line for food for hours. Was it really worth it for a piece of bread?
For herself, maybe not. But she had two kids to take care of now, at least until her father somehow found them. But it didn't seem likely at all. Things were absolutely chaotic, with refugees from all around Maria poured into Wall Rose, and the efforts at registering all of them disorganized and slow. At the rate things were going, Grisha wouldn't be able to find records of them and their location for years.
Elvan was alone now. At first, Mikasa had been by her side, but she'd grown worried about Eren and left after about an hour. It wasn't entirely unreasonable since Eren had passed out from the overwhelming stress his body and mind had been put through. Several days had passed since they had all arrived in Wall Rose, but he was still exhausted. His anger had sucked all the energy out of him, and the only thing anyone could do was force-feed him while he was awake. She felt a deep empathy for him, but elsewhere, in a darker part of her mind, there was resentment. She'd had to try and wash the blood out of her dress in the river the day after they arrived. Every time she blinked, her mother's death replayed behind her eyelids. But she didn't get breaks. She didn't get cared for. Carla had really been the only person to ever do that.
Pull it together, she snapped mentally. He's a kid. You're the adult now.
"Okay, next," she heard and snapped to attention. Finally, something was happening. As she took a step forward, she peered around the person in front of her. Several steps ahead, a Garrison soldier sat at a small wooden table. The person standing in front of it was writing something—they were being registered. Elvan frowned at what that might mean. Would they be required to provide payment she didn't have? What if Eren and Mikasa became forced laborers or something? But she suspected that if she wasn't registered, she'd be turned away when she asked for food.
One loaf of bread per day was their limit. The hunger pains were constant and never-ending, but she didn't have any money to buy more. And soon, the free food they were getting would run out. How were the royals going to cover a food shortage so severe? Everyone had to eat, after all.
Blood. Blood. Blood. Mom. Blood. Gone. Dead. Eaten. You failed and her corpse is lying defiled in some Titan puke somewhere—
Enough, Elvan thought with a shake of her head. Was it wrong to grieve? To regret? What if it distracted her from her remaining family? Then, certainly, it was wrong. But how could she make something like that go away? How could she dare to forget her mother, her sacrifice? How could she try to convince herself that Hannes hadn't made himself a murderer when he'd pulled her away from Carla, preventing the woman's salvation? How could she possibly forget the horrible things she had seen on the way to her home from the abandoned storehouses to the west? How could she not grieve and regret?
A single tear rolled down her face as she took another step forward.
Her brother would probably go back to hating her very soon, and after that, the only way she'd be able to help him was by providing—with no money, no food, and no job. A complete impossibility. Elvan wasn't exactly touchy and feely and was used to the lack of love she usually got from her brother, but she still felt the need to make sure he didn't starve or get himself killed. She'd need to find some kind of employment. Winter was fast approaching and even their coats had been lost to the Titans. They needed clothes.
In addition, of course, to food, shelter, and safety from any laws enacted against the refugees.
Impossible.
But she couldn't allow her mother's sacrifice to be in vain. Eren would live, as would Mikasa. Elvan herself would simply… survive. Somehow, her will to have fun had disappeared, and she had very recently discovered she had no purpose at all. Maybe Eren's dream was foolish, but at least he had one.
Another step. Her clothes still had blood on them—Mom's blood—and she could see the Garrison soldier in charge of keeping the line under control frowning at her. Probably she looked awful—she hadn't exactly bathed lately. In fact, her hair hadn't even been combed. It was disgusting and greasy to the touch and she scowled. She should probably get Eren and Mikasa to bathe, too. There was probably a bathhouse somewhere.
"Next!" She took one more step forward. A few more minutes and her wait would be over, but while she was up there, she wanted to ask questions. What was the registry for? Did everyone have to be there to be registered? Would being registered affect her or her family negatively? She knew almost no details, and there was no way she would allow the government to cause her any unnecessary troubles. She knew how to get away if she had to run.
Elvan scratched at her arm. Her parents would have been terribly disappointed that she was being so sloppy, but what could she really do about it? She had bigger problems at hand, like her own mental health. It seemed as if, no matter where she looked, that thing was leering down at her before biting her mother cruelly in half. How was she supposed to live her life like that? She'd not even spoken a word over the past few days. She felt as if she opened her mouth, all she would be able to do was scream or sob.
"Next!" Elvan stepped forward to the table and coughed as the brunette, bored-looking soldier pushed a paper over to her, along with a pen. "Fill this out. Include everyone in your family and make sure they know you've already done it when you get back home."
Elvan nodded and picked up the pen, carefully writing her own name and information only as she began to ask questions. "Sir," she began as the line to her left moved forward. Her voice was scratchy and dry from lack of use, and she swallowed, as if it would possibly help. "What is the registry for?"
"Organizational purposes," he answered lazily with a wave of his hand. "It won't get you more food, if that's what you're wondering, but from now on you can't collect rations until you've been registered."
"Okay," she answered, hurriedly scribbling in Eren and Mikasa's names. "Are barracks for refugees being set up? I don't have a place of address at the mo—"
"Ah. Yeah, I have to assign you a place. Ben, gimme that map," the soldier said as her peered at Elvan's paper. "Three of you, eh? I think you're best off - here - lots of other kids there. Write that down, now. When you get to the River House, someone else will record your family's room number." All of them crammed into a single room. Still, at least they could receive mail now.
"Yes, of course," she muttered, writing in 'River House' on the address line. "Thank you." Her throat seemed to be bleeding. As much as she wanted to ask more questions, the pain was intolerable. Overuse and then sudden underuse of her vocal cords was wearing away at them. She handed the man the paper and, in return, received three loaves of bread. They seemed slightly smaller than yesterday's. Her stomach growled in protest at their diminishing food sources.
"Next!" she heard as she walked away.
She'd have to find Mikasa and Eren now so they could find their new 'house', which she expected to be a large building full of sleeping mats.
In spite of all the benefits it had just earned them, Elvan felt somewhat uneasy about the registration. Why was it that the effort had suddenly doubled to the point that they were being provided with free housing? They were probably going to provide them with work, but that wasn't a reason to give away valuable space, however shoddily constructed it was. They could have collected workers without giving them a place to live. Most people would have worked for the promise of food alone. The reason they'd been given shelter was probably so they could be better controlled… Eren would hate it.
But he didn't have to know.
It only took a few minutes before she reached the storage building. She'd placed Eren's sleeping body upstairs before, but now, he was outdoors with Mikasa and Armin. He was silently crying, tears falling to the bread he was eating, and Mikasa was carefully eyeing him, worried he'd act out. "Oh," exclaimed Armin. "Eren, your sister's here, and she has more food."
Elvan swallowed and held out the loaves of bread. Eren and Mikasa shook their heads, and Elvan took one for herself, selfishly relieved. She had to eat, too, after all, and it had been clear that Armin was terribly hungry from the instant she'd walked up. If they both wanted some, too, she'd have nothing. Without a word, she pressed the remaining loaves into Armin's hold and fell back against the wall, chewing slowly to savor the tiny roll. "I've gotten us a place to live," she announced, skating around the fact that it had been given to them. We have to go there right after we finish eating."
"My grandfather found us a place, too," Armin said, cheered by the thought. As clever as he was, he probably hadn't yet realized the reasons behind the provided shelter. Of course, he'd be happy about protection from the upcoming winter. "Are you in the Wallist shelter?"
Elvan shook her head and he looked disappointed, and cheered up again when she croaked, "River House."
"What luck! They're only a few blocks apart!" Armin said. "Grandfather says we'll have to earn our keep, but it's good that there are jobs for us at all."
"Jobs?" Eren said interestedly.
"We'll be planting things," Armin said, sounding less cheerful about that for obvious reasons.
"It's nearly winter," pointed out Mikasa dully. "We can't succeed."
"Well… at least we'll have shelter now, and we'll be contributing to society. There isn't really enough food for all the refugees here," Armin reminded him.
"No, there's not," Elvan agreed. "We'll have to work hard—Eren, Mikasa."
She stood, beckoning, and the two children hesitantly followed. "I'll see you all tomorrow!" Armin called hopefully as they walked away.
"Elvan," Eren said meekly, "is Dad looking for us?"
Elvan paused. How was she supposed to know? Grisha told her almost nothing. It was part of why they didn't get along. "I hope so, Eren," she answered honestly. If only because his skill as a doctor could earn us money and then food.
Elvan coughed, but the desk manager didn't seem to be paying much attention. She was leaned back in a rickety chair, gazing at the ceiling. She looked bored out of her mind.
"HEY!" Eren shouted. Evidently, he had become tired of waiting. The dark-haired woman looked up and nodded expectantly. "Eren and Elvan Yeager and Mikasa Ackerman."
"Okay, okaaaaaaaay," the woman said, leafing through some papers. "Here you are. Okay, take a right and head to room six. It's labeled, you can't miss it."
But they almost did miss it. As Elvan had predicted, it had clearly been built without any planning at all. The boards that made up the walls weren't even pressed together in some places, so you could see in and out of the room by looking through the cracks. There wasn't a lock, either, or, in fact, a doorknob. It simply opened and shut on two unstable looking hinges. She felt distinctly uncomfortable about having Eren or Mikasa change in there, but there was little to be done for it. They didn't have any clothes to change into, anyways. Other than that, it was equipped with three thin blankets and rectangular sacks that were probably intended to be bedrolls. Elvan shrugged; it was better than nothing. "Settle in," she said with a half-hearted gesture, though they had nothing to set down and no furniture.
Still, no one complained. Maybe it was obvious that Elvan wouldn't put up with it, even if the room was barely five square meters. They sat down in complete silence, enjoying the partial privacy of the little room.
Elvan was the first to lie on one of the pathetic little mats.
A/N: (edited 02/11/2021) Nitpicked at wording here. New chapter coming soon.