Eren hit the ground with an audible crunch, and oh sweet Sina that fucking hurt, what the hell did he do to his wrist.

Tears started pooling in his eyes as he pushed himself up with his forearms. He leaned over to look at his wrist becasuse holy fucking shit, that hurt, that hurt, why did it hurt so bad.

Exhaling sharply through his teeth, he turned his head to look and-nothing. It really didn't look like anything had happened, aside from maybe some minor swelling- that would be a nasty bruise later- but that was fine.

Just a bruise was fine because it meant that it probably wasn't sprained, and although it'd hurt like a bitch he wouldn't have to miss out on training to get it fixed, or, Walls forbid, have to stay out for a week because you can't operate 3DMG gear with a sprained wrist.

That had happened to Marco when they'd first been working with the gear, and while he'd only been out for a few days, he'd spent the better part of three months trying to catch up- and Eren couldn't afford that.

He gingerly pushed himself up, taking care to avoid putting pressure on his left wrist- thank Walls it was his left and not his right, he really didn't want to be flinching every time he attempted to eat for as long as it took to heal- as he positioned his feet under him and sat back onto his heels.

To test his range of motion he lifted his arm with his right hand and went to flex his wrist, except-

Nothing happened.

Eren kept staring dumbly at his wrist as it stayed where it was, flopped towards the ground, as he kept trying over and over to move it.

In his fustration he moved his hand up from his forearm to lift his wrist and- fuck, fuck, that was a bad fucking idea.

Shit, he couldn't move it, and now that he was thinking about it, it actually hurt really fucking bad even when he wasn't moving it, and it was this deep ache coming from somewhere within his wrist, feeling like bone-

Hot tears spilled down Erens cheeks as he keened foward, placing his right hand on the ground for balance, because fuck he knew exactly what that meant.

He'd seen it before, in cases with little kids who had fallen out of carts, with laborers who tried to carry too much and dropped the weight, with nobels who'd fallen down their too long, too elegant staircases- yeah they looked cool, but why would they want to walk more than necessary?- and he knew exactly what this meant.

Fuck. Fuck. His wrist was broken.

Pretty badly too if the pain and numbness in his fingers was anything to go by, and now that he was looking at it up close, he could definently see that it was angled wrong, and it was so ovbious that something was wrong, and fuck that would take him out of training for Walls knew how long and-

Eren screamed into the elbow of his good arm, as he wiped the tears from his face

This couldn't happen to him, it just couldn't!

He needed to keep training, working, so that he'd be able to graduate and join the Survey corps and kill titans and he couldn't fucking train if his wrist was broken, holy shit they wouldn't let him do anything, they'd send him back to the refugee camps and he'd never even be allowed to attempt joining the millitary again and-

"Woah buddy, you doing ok?" Asked Reiner as he landed with a thump onto the pile of leaves behind Eren. "You took that fall pretty hard man."

Eren cleared his throat as attempted to calm himself.

If nobody found out about this, he could still train. Fuck, he'd have to take the days off and pretend it was only sprained, but if he could set it and keep it in place maybe, just maybe, nothing worse would happen.

He knew how to set it properly, and he'd seen how long it took to heal before.

"Yeah, m' good." Rasped Eren as he wiped his face, "Just landed bad. Think I hurt m'wrist."

Reiner whistled. "Shit man that's really not good."

"Mhm."

"Can you walk it off and keep training, or do you think you you hurt it really badly?"

"Think s'sprained."

"Fuck dude." Reiner ran his hands through his hair. "Do you need help getting to the medic or do you just want me to tell the commander?"

Eren whipped around.

"Don't tell the commander."

Reiner frowned as he looked at Eren's face. His eyes were bright red and his cheeks were blotchy, covered in tear tracks he'd ovbiously tried to wipe away earlier.

"If you go to the medic he'll find out anyway man."

Eren shook his head. "No, its Mrs. Servott today. She's nice so if I ask her to write me off as sick for a day or two she'll do it."

She'd done it before after Eren had smacked his head attempting to learn how to stay upright with his faulty belt, allowing him to train the next day even though he really should have been on concussion watch.

"It takes a lot longer than that to heal a sprain," Reiner grimaced, "Remember Marco?"

"I know, but I just need a day or two for it to settle. Please, please just dont tell that commander." Eren pleaded.

Reiner looked down at Eren, who had gone back to facing away from him. To be honest Eren freaked him out a bit, with the continuous talk of killing titans and such, but damn if he didn't look pathetic here.

Deciding to take pity on him he responded, "Ok. I won't tell the commander, but promise me that you'll go straight to the medic."

"I will."

"And if it hurts too much or gets worse you'll actually tell the commander, and take the proper amount of time off."

"I will, but I really only need a day. It'll be fine after then."

Reiner sighed. He knew that Eren had stupid amounts of determination, emphasis on the stupid, but there was no way this was gonna end well.

"If you say so man." Reiner readjusted his cables as he prepared to take off back to the treetops. "See you later at mealtime."

Eren smiled, "Yeah, see ya."

He watched as Reiner took off to catch up to the others continuing the exercise, then waited until he could no longer hear the soft hissing of cables and gas canisters.

Hell no he wasn't going to the medic!

The second they looked at his wrist they'd know it was broken, fuck it looked even worse now that it'd been sitting untreated for a bit.

It had swollen up like a balloon as the area turned a shade of purple that looked lovely on some of the wildflowers that grew beneath the brush of the forest, but ultimately looked horribly wrong on human skin.

Eren got up as he scanned the area for long flat sticks.

He'd seen what his dad had done in these cases, and it was honestly pretty simple. All he had to do was find a bunch of sticks and wrap bandages around them to keep his wrist in place. After that all he had to do was wait!

A smile came to his face as he gingerly stepped forward to keep looking for what he needed, slower than he'd prefer to walk, but shit even though he was holding his wrist in place, each step sent jolts of pain through his whole arm.

A step. Scan. Another step. Scan. Just one foot after the other as he examined the forest floor until-

"Yes!" Eren hissed as he grabbed a couple small sticks.

They were perfect, strong enough to keep something in place, but small enough that nobody would notice beneath his thick regiment jacket.

His smile grew wider as he thought about how to arrange the sticks.

He would get away with it! They wouldn't send him back, and it would be nothing but a nuisance for a couple of days! It would barely even be a problem!

Eren grabbed the small roll of bandages that trainees were required to keep on them at all times. He'd thought the rule stupid at the time, as if you needed bandages for something it was most definently medic worthy, but was grateful for it now.

Quickly stripping off his regiment jacket, he began wrapping his wrist to keep the sticks in place and quickly noticed that he was short on bandages.

Way too short.

Eren huffed. Well that wasn't ideal.

He knew the bandages should cover the entirety of the splint, but he only had enough to go about halfway.

Maybe he could ask Armin or Mikasa for their bandages later?

Eren shook his head.

No, no, no, no, they'd ask way too many questions, and it just wasn't worth it. He'd rather just take off his hand and pretend nothing was wrong than attempt to weasel his way out of explaining not only why he needed more bandages, but what had happened to his own.

Tying the ends of the bandage into a knot he looked down at his own handy work and grimaced.

It looked ok, as long as he turned his head. And squinted.

Ok, it looked pretty bad.

But, if Eren was being honest with himself, it felt a little bit better now that it was stuck in place.

He took a quick peek at his fingers, and yeah, it didn't look any better.

Eren grabbed his jacket, slipping it over the splint in one quick motion, pleased that the sticks made no more that a small bulge in the sleeve.

Now all he had to do was ignore it for long enough for it to set and he was golden!

After around two hours of moving around Eren realized that he had heavily underestimated how much he uses his wrist on a daily basis.

Mrs. Servott had allowed for him to stay without any questions on the basis that he helped her with organizing the medicinal cabinets and finishing up with the laundry that came in once a week.

Of all the days to need a favor it just had to be laundry day.

Eren let out a quiet "fuck" as the large sheet he was folding fell to the floor.

"What's happenin' over there young man?" hollered Mrs. Servott from the other room, "Don't tell me that ya're unable to do some simple laundry."

Eren turned back around and attempted to sound exactly as cheerful as he didn't feel. "No ma'am, I just dropped the sheet I was trying to fold. It's difficult because s' so large."

Truth be told, it shouldn't have been that hard to fold, but only using one hand was slowing things down considerably.

He made a frustrated sound as he dropped the sheet for the third time, because fucking Sina how hard could it be to just fold a sheet.

"Hun if it's bugging ya that much, just go get with ya friends for supper. I can handle it myself." Came Mrs. Servotts' concerned voice behind him.

Eren jolted as he instinctively went to hide his arm behind his back.

"No, no, no s' all good!" He stammered, "I can do it, it's just a little difficult."

"Ya're not gonna get anything done just standing there dropping the blanket over and over again though, and supper starts at the next half hour. Just go and catch up for a bit."

Eren looked down at his feet. He knew she was right, but also didn't want to admit to himself that he'd been entirely useless all day.

"Thank you ma'am, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry bout' it sugar." She said, "Normally your not one to skive off trainin' so I know ya're here for a good reason. Just feel better or whatever you need quickly y'hear?"

Eren smiled softly. Most of the trainees liked Mrs. Servott due to her motherly attitude and genuine care for the cadets, which was especially refreshing after dealing with the cold unfeeling commander all day.

"I will ma'am. Thank you."

Eren gently placed the sheet back onto the cot it was meant to be folded on and spun on his heel to head for the exit.

Walls, he was so hungry he could eat a horse!

Within the mess hall Jean shivered.

Glancing over at Mikasa he noticed that her normal tag-along was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Eren at all after the dodging portion of the exercise today, which was especially odd considering that he normally fought with him during the following attack portion.

Maybe he'd gotten hurt.

Firmly squashing down any portion of him that voiced concern, he slid into the booth next to Mikasa.

"So I see that the suicidal bastard decided not to show up to eat today," said Jean, "I mean I didn't see him much at training earlier either, has he started to become a skipper?"

Mikasa glanced over, attempting to decide if anything Jean had to say would be worth her time.

"He's not a skipper."

"I didn't say he was, but he sure had a lot of things to say about skippers for someone who didn't show up to the second half of training."

As much as she loathed to admit it, Jean was right. She hadn't seen Eren much today, and while he does normally somewhat avoid her, she hadn't even seen him at afternoon lineup, but Eren's normally not the type of person to skip anything, much less training.

Walls, she hoped he was ok.

Mikasa knew that Eren wouldn't miss out on even the most boring exercises from the commander, as if his life depended on it.

Considering the fact that he wanted to join the Survey Corps it very well might.

"I know. I saw." Replied Mikasa, but she couldn't stop thinking about what may have happened.

What if he got kidnapped? What if one of his blades had broken and stabbed him? What if one of the trainees finally snapped from hearing Eren talk about his neverending bloodlust and rage for titans far too many times and-

"Oh fuck off Jean, I'm not the one who missed out because I ate a random mushroom." Retorted Eren as he strode up to the booth they had been sitting at.

Jean flushed, "T-that was one time! And you're the one who said it was edible!"

"Oho, so now we're gonna blame the fact that you didn't pay attention to the clearly stated edible and non edible plants in class on me, now are we?" Smirked Eren, as he threw his arms up into a shrug. "and here I thought you said you were smart."

Jean seethed in his spot as he growled, "Yeah well at least I didn't miss training for no fucking reason, huh? You gonna explain yourself, or have you started becoming a skipper?"

Eren narrowed his eyes.

Fuck he hadn't though of a good excuse for missing part of training, and espically not one that would please Mikasa.

"Messed up as they pulled up a fake titan." Eren explained, waving his arms in dissismal. "Hit a branch with my stomach and got a little sick. Reiner forced me to go to the medic."

Mikasa pounced on him seconds after he finished, continually asking questions along the lines of "Are you ok? Where'd you hit? Is the bruise bad? Are you sure you're ok?"

Eren shoved her off of him. "I'm fine, Walls I'm fine, calm down!"

"There's barely even a bruise now, I just hit the branch wrong or something kay'?"

She didn't look the least but convinced, but at least she had stopped trying to take his jacket off so that she could see the "injury".

He really didn't need her taking off his jacket and forcing him to explain the splint right now.

"Oh of course there's not really a bruise or anything." Jean sneered. "Mighty convenient the thing you're blaming skipping out training on training for has no proof."

"What the hell did you just say?!" Eren roared, slamming his fists onto the table.

"Exactly what you heard you fucking skevie."

"I didn't want to miss out, I got hurt you motherfucker!"

"Eren wouldn't miss training without a reason." supplied Mikasa

Jean furrowed his brows, caught between still attempting to talk to Mikasa and continuing his fight with Eren.

Eren turned to face her. "Thank you for having some common sense, unlike this goddamn animal." he spat.

"Oh typical." said Jean as he rolled his eyes, "You always turn to Mikasa or Armin when you're in a fight. Bastard can't even fight his own battles."

"I do not always turn to them!"

"Uh yeah sure, and what exactly were you just doing then?"

"I was thanking her for her help you dumb motherfucker!" Shouted Eren as he grabbed Jean's collar with both hands and prepared to throw him to the ground.

Wait, both hands?

He'd used his left wrist earlier too, now that he thought about it, when he'd hit the table and when he pushed Mikasa off of him, but hadn't felt anything.

It'd barely even registered.

His anger melted away like frost in the sunlight as he stared down at his left wrist.

He dropped Jean suddenly as he looked at his wrist, flexing his hand in circles as he wiggled his fingers back and forth.

There was no pain. None at all. It was like nothing had even happened in the first place.

He kept staring at his wrist in wonder, thinking how the hell had it gotten better so fast? It was definently broken, or at least hurt earlier, so why the fuck didn't it hurt at all now-

"Hey did something go wrong in that infinitesimally small brain of yours?"

Jean's voice voice snapped him out of his thoughts as his anger returned at a slow boil.

"Oh sorry, your stupidity wore off on me for a second there." Eren retorted, but he didn't have it in him to continue this argument.

Something was wrong, and he needed to look at it. There was no way if he had broken anything that it would feel any better by now, which meant it had probably only been a bruise.

But then why had it hurt so bad?

He knew what a broken bone looked like and his had held all signs short of the end of the bone sticking straight through his skin, there was no way it could have only been a bruise!

He needed to take the splint off, to look at his arm and see exactly what had happened. It was probably just a bruise he hit really hard, then freaked out about.

That was the only probable explanation for this, that was the only possible explanation for this.

"Hey, bitch, are you even listening to me?" Jean said as he snapped his fingers in front of Eren's face.

"Oh fuck off, who gives a shit about what you have to say?"

"Apparently you from how pissed you were getting earlier when I called you a skipper."

Eren frowned, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go raid the stables and eat all the sugarcubes will ya? Maybe your mood will improve."

Not wanting to hear anything else Jean had to say, he sharply turned on his heel and quickly strode towards the front doors.

"Can you two just sit in quiet for three minutes- Eren where do you think you're going?" Mikasa called after him.

"I'm gonna go find Armin." He replied as he shut the door with a bit more force than necessary.

Well that was the second lie he had told about where he was headed that day- he really shouldn't make that a habit- because one of the last things Eren wanted to do at the moment.

He walked towards the woods in an attempt to find the clearing he knew would still be somewhat well lit by this time of night.

The sun had long since started going down, but a few stray rays allowed for enough visibility that Eren knew he wouldn't need any excess light.

He didn't want it anyway, better not to attract any attention.

As he found the clearing he quickly stripped off his jacket, throwing it onto the ground to pick up later.

He pushed up his sleeve and got to untying the knot keeping the bandages in place.

While a bruise that looked as awful as it did earlier wasn't ideal, as it would probably raise a couple of questions, it was still far preferable to any kind of true injury.

He ripped off the remainder of the bandages preparing himself to see that nasty shade of purple, fading off into green and yellow at the end and-

Nothing.

Nothing was on his wrist.

Eren stared dumbly for a few seconds because, excuse me what the fuck!?

He could believe that maybe he hadn't broken his wrist earlier, and had just freaked out.

He could believe that maybe it hadn't even been a sprain, he'd just hit the bony part and it hurt real bad.

But nothing!?

There had definently been fucking something there previosly, as he could still vividly remember the god awful shade it had been, and exactly how wrong it had looked, and how fucking bad it hurt.

Eren dropped to his knees as he just kept staring, staring at the wound that should be.

Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong, because he had definitely at least hurt himself earlier?

Fuck.

Fuck.

He couldn't even ask anyone, because he'd done his damnedest to hide the bruising from everyone, so all he had to go off of was his memory which obviously had to be faulty, because people don't heal from bruises and broken bones in a matter of hours, what the fuck-

Eren screamed as he punched a tree with the wrist that should have been hurt, and shit that hurt.

He looked down at his hands, bloody, with freshly forming bruises encircling his knuckles and asked well!? Is this real or not!?

He stared as he hands began to feel warm from the contact and what he had done hit him.

"Fuck." He gasped. "What the hell am I even doing?"

He ran his hands down his face, opening his eyes halfway through to see-

Steam?

Pulling his hands away from his face, Eren spun around looking for what, for who was the source of the steam, but he didn't see anyone.

The steam was coming from somewhere through, lazily floating past his eyes as he followed it to his source, looking down-

At his hands.

His hands.

Were steaming.

Personally Eren thought it was a reasonable response when he started screaming once more and flung his hands through the air in an attempt to get whatever was causing the steam off of him.

Eren heaved as he looked down at his hands to see if he had gotten it off, but there was nothing there and they were still steaming.

Yet it didn't hurt at all.

It didn't even feel warm.

Eren felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him as he realized that it made no fucking sense for steam to not be warm and pulled his hands closed to his face.

On closer inspection the steam seemed to be coming from his knuckles, which Eren would have classified as fucking weird on it's own, but that wasn't the only thing happening.

As the steam rose the small cuts began to knit themselves together, as bruises went from deep purple to blue, to green, to yellow, then faded entirely, as if they'd never been there in the first place.

Just like the bruise on his wrist.

"What the fuck. What the actual fuck!" Cried Eren.

This definetly wasn't fucking normal, people weren't supposed to steam, and they weren't supposed to heal that fast, and they weren't supposed to be like this but-

But titans were.

Titans steamed as they healed, and Walls they healed almost instantly, just like, just like-

Eren dropped to his knees and abruptly threw up.

It was more bile than anything, as he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, hadn't really had an appetite for food at all.

Just like the titans-

Tears bubbled over his cheeks and hit the ground as he continued to dry heave on the ground, everything that could possibly come up already gone.

He couldn't be a titan, he couldn't be related to those motherfuckers that killed his mom.

He couldn't be related to the things that made his life a living hell.

After he finished, he pushed himself away from the bile and laid on the ground, fully spent.

Tears continued to fall as he thought about the ramifications of this discovery, if he started acting like a titan, if he started to harm others, Walls if Mikasa and Armin found out.

They would hate him.

They would fucking despise him, leave him for dead, maybe even take matters into their own hands to get rid of the monster among them.

No.

No, he wouldn't be like that.

He refused to act like those mindless beasts that strolled outside the walls, the ones who kept all of humanity trapped in this birdcage that we dared to call a paradise.

He fucking wouldn't.

Pushing himself up into a sitting position he furiously wiped away the tears and vomit staining his face.

So what if he had an attribute or two making him like a titan? It wasn't as if he was craving human flesh or attacking people?

And he was pretty fucking sure he wasn't fifteen meters tall.

His eyes widened as he came to a realization.

He...he had only gotten the benefits that a titan receives.

Just the rapid healing, nothing else.

A small chuckle escaped him, quickly rolling into full blown laughter as he threw a hand over his face.

How could he be so stupid?

He could heal, he could heal! He could protect Mikasa, Armin and everyone else by being the spearhead for danger!

No one would have to lose limbs- no one would have to die! He could protect them!

Eren smiled as he looked down at his hands- healing! Ah what a gift to be given!

(A part of him said no, this isn't normal, this is wrong, this is how titans heal and he's supposed to be human, a full blooded human- but he shoved that down as quickly as it popped up.)

Although he knew he could heal from bruises, and broken bones, and cuts in a matter of seconds and hours, he still had no clue what the extent of this healing was. How quick it could be, how it would look to others.

Exactly how much he could heal.

Grabbing his jacket from the pile of leaves it was now sitting in, he threw it on as he began his trek back to the barracks.

It was far past supper by now, but that didn't matter.

He only had one goal in mind, one objective.

He needed to know what the extent of his abilities were.

Eren felt a wicked grin come to his face as he chewed on the end of the nail on his thumb.

He needed to test.