Chapter 4: The Fools With Hope
"848. Now that was a very interesting year for me."
A full year had passed, and Eren could feel himself getting stronger. The small, lanky boy was fading into the past and a more determined, slightly muscled teenager became more evident. Two years remained in his training, and the ending couldn't come sooner. How Eren longed to get into the Scouts so he could do what he vowed in Shiganshina. Kill every single Titan and reclaim the lands that were taken by those monsters? That's all that mattered.
He was so deep in his musings that he almost didn't notice Reiner charging at him with the wooden knife. It was thanks to the yell his opponent let out that he was brought back to reality. Planting his feet, Eren turned just as Reiner reached him, grabbing his arm in the process. Using his momentum, the green-eyed boy had little trouble in flipping Reiner onto his back.
"Sorry, man," Eren chuckled to the groaning cadet, holding out his hand. "I'll try to be more careful next time."
Reiner immediately took his hand and he was pulled to his feet. "It's all right. Let's see how you do as the rogue." He held his knife out to him.
Reiner was definitely one of a kind. He was like the cadets' big brother, always looking out for them. Like Eren, he wanted to be a soldier to reclaim the home he lost to the Titans, and he was one of the few that seemed to understand him… unlike a certain, brown-haired nuisance he knew.
The moment he thought of Dillon, a wave of annoyance cascaded over him. That self-righteous, privileged jackass was getting on his nerves. Always with the lectures as if he was better than them, managing to say just the right thing to rally more people to his side whenever he and Eren argued about something. The end result was usually the same, with Dillon winning and Eren looking like an idiot. The green-eyed boy longed for the day to kick his teeth in.
"Eren," Reiner said, getting him back to the present by tapping his hand with the wooden weapon.
"Right, sorry," he replied, taking the knife.
"Let me guess: brown hair, good looks, and gets under your skin?"
Eren snorted, confirming his suspicions.
"Figured as much. Whatever gripes you have with Dillon-."
"-is something I don't want to talk about," Eren interrupted.
Reiner sighed. "Fine, I won't push you."
Glad that he dropped the subject, he moved onto the next one as he became fixated on the knife he held. "This training doesn't make sense. We're supposed to be learning how to fight and kill Titans."
"You really don't think there aren't shitty people out there waiting for us?"
The boy scoffed. "Of course not. I'm not stupid, Reiner."
"Then what's the problem?" he pressed.
Eren shook his head in annoyance, though not towards Reiner's questions. "The Titans lurk outside these Walls, and yet, humans continue to look for excuses to hurt and kill each other. I mean... what's the point?"
His thoughts took him to an abandoned cabin where two corpses surrounded him. The cause of their deaths were precise stab wounds, and he was holding the weapon. They deserved it. He would kill them over and over again if he could.
"Can't answer that for you, man," Reiner stated sympathetically, yanking him out that memory. "Life doesn't give us a say. If it wants to get ugly, it gets ugly. It's our job to be prepared. Titans, humans, wild animals, enemies come in many forms whether we like it or not. Soldiers, the ones worth their salt anyway, are ready for anything." He smirked, looking past Eren. "Don't believe me? Look."
The green-eyed boy followed his gaze resisted the urge to bolt. Annie was walking around, refusing to practice it seemed. After her match with Dillon, she was steadily gaining a reputation of being cutthroat, cold-hearted, and dangerous. Needless to say, not many people wanted to be around her.
"What about her?" Eren asked, hoping that he was hiding his anxiety.
"She's slacking off again," he said, watching her like a hawk. "Someone should give her a talking-to. Teach her a lesson."
"You have a death wish, Reiner?" Eren couldn't help but ask. "You saw what she did to Amsdale."
Reiner chuckled. "Come on, Eren. How are you going to kill Titans if you're afraid of someone a few inches under you?" He didn't even wait for an answer as began his approach towards the blonde girl.
Eren resisted the urge to groan and followed him.
Once Annie was intercepted, Reiner stared her down. "Commandant not beating you down enough? Keep it up and you'll be as flat as the dirt you walking on. I suggest you think back to why you enlisted in the first place."
Eren couldn't believe this was happening. "Reiner, what the hell is wrong with you?" For a moment, he glanced at Annie, who was glaring at him with murderous intent. Well, it was nice knowing you, Reiner.
Before he could make his escape and obtain plausible deniability, Reiner seized him by the shoulders. "Okay, now go get her."
"Hey, what the hell?" he exclaimed as he was pushed towards her. "You were the one who antagonized her. Leave me out of this!"
"That makes an impression," Annie sneered. "You claim you want to kill the Titans yet you run like a coward."
Eren froze, scowling at her. If she wanted a fight, then he would give it to her.
Annie took up her typical fighting stance, looking bored as usual. Obviously, she expected him to be a weak opponent compared to her. Not if he could help it.
"Don't expect me to hold back," Eren warned, charging for her with the intent to impale her. "Heads up!"
Annie simply moved to the side, throwing her foot out which hit precisely on Eren's shin. Predictably, he fell to his knees, wounded.
"Son of a…" Eren grit his teeth in pain as he tried to stand. "Dirty trick." His leg gave out, almost making him collapse.
"Next time, don't yell, 'Heads up!'" Reiner crowed from the sidelines.
"Up yours, you bastard!"
"Are we done here?" Annie asked, looking over at Reiner.
"Not just yet," the taller blonde stated. "You know the drill. Take up the dagger."
She let out an annoyed sigh and turned back to her weakened opponent. She almost felt bad for the terrified kid. Almost.
"Reiner, I'm going to-." Eren almost had a heart attack as she moved in for the kill. "Oh, crap!"
Grabbing him by the chin as she went by him, she kicked his legs out from under him, making him land on his back. Unfortunately, he fell in such a way that his legs went over his head, making him look like a human ball.
"There," Annie said, tossing the fallen knife to a surprised Reiner. "So, are you ready to take me on yourself, or what?"
"Uh, not exactly," Reiner replied nervously.
"Don't you dare," Eren growled. It was Reiner's fault for him getting stuck in this mess and Eren was going to make him pay for it. "She's got a lesson coming, right? You go get her."
Reiner let out a defeated sigh and said, "Yeah, a soldier can't really afford to back down, either." With a steely gaze, he prepared to fight. "Get ready. Here I come!"
By the time Eren unraveled himself, Reiner was stuck in the human ball like he was. The guy was one foot taller than Annie was and she took him down as if he was nothing. Well, he had it coming, so Eren's sympathy for him was barely present.
"That's some technique," he complemented. "Who taught you how to fight like that?"
"My father did," she answered.
"Did you… pioneer it, or—?"
"Does it really matter?" Annie cut him off. "It's pointless. Just like all of this."
Now, Eren was confused. "Wait, you mean the training in general?"
She looked at the other cadets that were sparring. "Hand-to-hand combat doesn't really count against our final grade. The smart ones blow it off. It's a crapshoot anyway. Only the top ten cadets get to serve in the Interior. The rest of us? Devoured by Titans in a suicidal crusade or guarding a Wall for the rest of our lives. Point is, only the idiots like you take this part of boot camp seriously."
Annie stopped talking when she spotted one of the most insulting things she had ever seen. Sasha and Connie were not only not training but making outlandish versions of certain fighting styles. Connie even had the wooden knife in his mouth. If Shadis didn't grab him by the head and yell expletives at him for that stunt, she probably would've started breaking their bones herself.
"Idiots, and whatever they are," she said.
Suddenly, she whipped around and attempted to plunge the wooden knife in Eren's heart, but he brought his arm up just in time to keep it away from his chest.
"First rule of this life," Annie continued, her tone becoming darker. "The better you are at dropping the bad guys, the more distance the powers-that-be put between you. That's what this whole stupid farce is about."
"Sure," Eren replied with gritted teeth, trying to push her arm back with his other hand. "Whatever you say."
Naturally, whatever plan of attack he had was foiled by a low spinning sweep kick that brought him back to his new friend: the ground. Now, he was trying to keep the knife by plunging into his neck.
"Face it. You don't fight the nature of things and win."
At this point, he honestly believed Annie was trying to kill him. The two locked eyes for quite a while, one pair full of fear, and the other full of apathy.
Finally, Annie stood up and stared down at him. "Look around you, Eren. All the sons of bitches really expect us to do is play the game. Don't be a pawn."
On that note, she walked away only to nearly run into Dillon, who had been watching the "fight."
"Quite the pessimist, aren't you?" he commented, crossing his arms.
"It's called being realistic," Annie corrected with an annoyed look. "I'm not an idealistic fool who thinks the world will be saved because I have determination, willpower, and all that crap."
"Are you talking about Eren, Marco, or me?" Dillon questioned, a little offended.
"You tell me," she challenged, circling him with the knife still in hand. She was sizing him up. "What drives you, Amsdale?"
That question caught him off guard, but he stood his ground despite the anxiety he was feeling. "The hell does that mean?"
"You know very well what I mean," Annie stated frostily as she glared into his brown eyes, a slight sneer on her lips. "Why are you here with the 104th? Is it guilt that drives you? Perhaps you think that coming all the way from the Interior helps the dead refugees rest a little easier." Even with that monotone, she could still sound patronizing.
Dillon glowered at her. "I will admit that guilt played a factor. Nothing wrong with that, is there, Leonhart?"
Annie fixed a glare on him and stopped circling him. "Get over it. They're dead. Nothing you do will change that. But if that doesn't drive you fully, what does? Why are you here?"
He didn't speak for a moment. By all rights, Dillon had no reason to be here. Like his mother said, he could've taken volunteer work to help the refugees. That would be wholesome, worthwhile actions. Then, he remembered the Titans that lurked outside. Two Titans with the ability to break through the gates and allow the beasts to come lumbering in, jaws wide with anticipation.
"Because someone has to fight the monsters outside these walls," Dillon answered finally. "I'm here to fight and make a difference, to make the world a better place."
Annie scoffed at his response. "Congratulations, Amsdale. You're a typical, idealistic idiot. I'm disappointed. You think you can change the world because what? You have heart? You have morals? You have determination? If you think any of that matters to a Titan, you're not only an idiot, but delusional as well."
"Maybe it's because I'm one of the few people that has hope," Dillon growled, his temper flaring for a second. "That's been in short supply since the day Wall Maria was breached. It's what gets me up every moment. It's what guides my actions. The hope that whatever I do will make a difference."
Annie's eyes narrowed dangerously at that response, her tone becoming ominous to the point of being sinister. "Do you really think you can go against the nature of the world, that you can bend the strings of reality to match your desires?"
She was testing him to see how confident he was in his statements, to see if he would falter. It wasn't going to happen.
Dillon leaned in, matching her glare with his own, and spoke in a low tone. "Who knows, Leonhart? I just might surprise you."
While she was a master at hiding it, Annie was shocked at how much conviction there was in his tone. He honestly believed that he had the ability to make a difference in this war. It wasn't just hope. There was something else, something he wasn't telling her. What was this surprise he mentioned? Was it possible that he was…?
"So, we going to fight or what?"
To his surprise, Annie backed off and headed in the opposite direction. "Not today."
"What about you?" he asked before she was out of earshot, crossing his arms. "Why are you here?"
Annie paused, staring at the wooden knife in her hand. "I want to survive."
Dillon nodded his head. "I figured as much. You've been through hell. There's no shame in that."
Both of them walked away, pondering the conversation, Annie more so than Dillon.
When I think I have you pegged, you surprise me. I don't know who you are, Dillon Amsdale, but I will find out. Count on it.
Later that evening, Dillon found himself at the same table as Jean and Marco. When inquired about their sparring earlier, they revealed Jean came out ahead in their matches, though he did suffer a few losses due to some quick thinking on Marco's part. Still, the training with Dillon paid off so far.
Rapidly, the subjects of their conversation were changing. Right now, Jean was explaining how he managed to do cool things with the ODM gear and still conserve gas. However, given how often he was eying Mikasa, it seemed like he was trying to impress her more than anything. While he had Marco's attention, Dillon was barely paying attention, still mulling over the conversation he had with Annie earlier. He couldn't get over how downright menacing she was towards the end, almost as if she was planning to be the obstacle trying to stop him. Why was she so creepy, and why couldn't he stop trying to talk to her?
"Just for a second. That's how you conserve fuel. Let your momentum do the work for you." Of course, it had to be Jean's dulcet tones to interrupt his thinking. Next time, he was going to find a corner to sit in.
"Still, that's pretty advanced," Marco said, impressed.
Naturally, Jean's ego was growing by the second. "It's called having a sixth sense for the finer points of your gear. You gotta do the strut if you wanna make the cut. The MPs only recruit the best."
The minute the word "MP" left his lips, Dillon became fully invested with the conversation.
Marco sighed wistfully. "Man, that'd be great. Working within a stone's throw of the king. No greater honor than that."
"I think taking down corruption should rise a little higher on your list, Marco," Dillon pointed out. "I mean, if you want to go work for the king, that's up to you. It's just that I feel that every time Mom comes home and tells us that after days of fighting, she managed to put those smug bastards behind bars. Now, that's a treat."
There was a gleam in Jean's eye. "I can see it now, Dillon. The two of us fighting side-by-side to bring down the bad guys and pick up a few girls along the way."
Dillon planted his face in his hands with a groan. "Oh, God, I created a monster."
One thing that he constantly brought to Jean's attention when talking about the Military Police was the corruption within their force. He theorized how the easy life in the Interior could've been Phase 1 of getting the MPs to slowly start looking the other way before they were neck-deep into the hole they were slowly digging themselves in. Now, Jean had a new motivation for joining the Military Police: fighting crime including the dirty officers. Apparently, he was also deluded into thinking that was going to help him get laid too.
"Think about it," Jean urged, leaning in with a grin. "With your fighting skills, my charisma, and your mom, the DA? We'll be the greatest crime-fighting team that ever existed!"
"Easy there," he said, leaning back a little from getting his privacy invaded. "Let's try to make it in the Top 10 first. Then we'll talk about this… team." It's not a... terrible idea.
Satisfied, he turned to Marco. "And you can drop the misty-eyed BS."
Marco's eyes widened in shock. "Huh?"
"Honor doesn't have any damn part of it. You just want a nice, cushy job in the Interior while you play sentry."
"That's not true!" he protested. "That's not true at all." Stop looking at me like that. You're creeping me out.
Dillon's eyes widened. Why did I just hear Marco's thoughts?
Naturally, Eren had a bone to pick with them. "Listen to you guys. Interior? Five years ago, this part of it."
"You got a point to make, friend?" Jean questioned. "I'm right here!"
Eren chuckled, setting down his drink. "Poor Jean. So misguided. And besides… I don't think your head will fit in the Interior anyway."
That comment sparked a few chuckles.
"Very funny," Jean said, not amused.
"Eren Yeager making a joke?" Dillon asked, genuinely surprised. "I think someone flew to the moon today." Though, to be fair, it wasn't a very good one. He lifted up his mug and nearly dropped it in surprise. In the reflection of the water, he could see that his eyes were slightly silver, waxing and waning. Unwanted whispers were filling up his head at an increasing rate. Not now. Why now?
Eren ignored him. "Seems a little backwards to me. Fine-tuning your Titan-killing skills so the brass will station you somewhere you'll never see one."
"You'd rather I was good at getting killed?" Jean retorted. "Thank you, but I'll pass. Better to play the system than get gnawed on."
Dillon's eyes flashed unintentionally as he felt a disturbing memory rise to the surface.
He was in the ruins of a city that was overrun by Titans. He was being carried by someone, but he couldn't tell by who. However, what captured his attention was the most horrifying thing he had ever seen. It was a Titan, a rather large one, raising a human up to its terrifying, grinning face.
"Mom!" he screamed, his eyes blinded by tears.
The monster opened its mouth and bit down.
Dillon yanked himself out of his memory, more than a bit shaken up. It was first time he had ever seen a Titan, and it was worse than his nightmares could conjure up. It made so much sense as to why Eren was the screwed-up individual he was.
"You son of a bitch!" Eren shouted, getting up.
"Bring it on, you little bastard!" Jean taunted, meeting him halfway.
"Eren, please stop it," Armin pleaded as Eren grabbed Jean's shirt.
"Enough!" Dillon exclaimed, stepping in between and shoving them both back, his hands holding them by their shirts. "Stand down, both of you! You're giving me a headache!" He jerked his head a little bit, various thoughts getting louder in his head. One, however, was the loudest.
You think you can tell me what to do!? Eren thought furiously.
Jean snorted, but he did what he said. Last thing he needed was to get more bruises.
Eren, however, started yelling louder. "You rip my shirt and you're dead! Let go!"
"Not until you get a grip," Dillon stated firmly, trying his damndest to ignore the cacophony in his mind.
You think just because you're from the Interior makes you better than us? Eren thought. Try this on for size!
To his surprise, Eren grabbed his hand that was holding him by his shirt and pushed it down. Simultaneously, Eren put his other hand on his neck in an effort to move him backwards. One quick look at the floor told Dillon his plan: he was going to try to kick his legs out from under him in a similar way Annie did to him earlier. To the untrained eye, that would've worked. Not so much to the trained eye. Quickly, Dillon wrenched his hand out of his grip, making his own move. With one hand, he grabbed his shirt again. With the other, he grabbed the hand around his neck. With both hands, he flipped Eren onto a table back first, scattering what was on it in the process.
"Nice try," he complemented, staring down at Eren's angry face, "but that's not the grip I meant."
Of course, Dillon forgot one detail in regard to Eren Yeager.
BAM!
He found himself crashing against the wall and sliding to the ground. Mikasa had come to her adopted brother's rescue.
"Back off," she warned while helping Eren up.
"I can handle myself, Mikasa," the green-eyed boy protested, shaking her off.
Dillon wasn't paying attention, his mind becoming a complete wreck. The voices were now louder and stronger, drowning out everything that was going on around him. With a groan of pain, he held his head, trying to calm his brain enough to get himself out of here without causing an incident.
Unfortunately, everyone started to gather around him. He couldn't hear them, but their thoughts quickly shifted to concerns about him. He could hear them all.
"He doesn't look okay."
"What's the matter with him?"
"Mikasa couldn't have hit him that hard."
"Maybe we should get help?"
"What's wrong with him?"
Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!
In a desperate attempt for quiet, Dillon slammed the back of his head against the wall. Somehow, that did the trick... for the moment at least. "I'm fine. I…" He felt a little blood from the back of his head. Perfect. "I seem to be bleeding."
Suddenly, the door slammed wide open, catching them all by surprise.
"What's going on here, maggots?" Shadis demanded. He stalked towards Dillon with that nightmare-inducing glare. "Sina Brat, why are you lying on the ground!?"
"I slipped, sir," Dillon lied, not wanting to cause trouble. "I don't think it's that bad."
"Bullshit!" he exclaimed. "Either you come clean, or it's fifty laps around the compound for everyone except you!"
Dillon grimaced. If he went with that option, he would get a lot of hate from the cadets. Looking out for his comrades was one thing; getting everyone punished when most of them had nothing to do with the incident was another.
Quickly, he summed it all up. "Eren and Jean had another lover's spat. I broke it up. Eren attacked me. I defended myself. Mikasa kicked me in retaliation. The end, sir." Okay, Dillon, calm down. You've been through this before.
"Is this true?" Shadis demanded, looking at the cadets that were mentioned.
Reluctantly, the three said, "Yes, sir."
"You three have earned yourself 10 laps around the compound! I expected better from you, Ackerman. Move!"
Quickly, the three ran outside.
Shadis looked back at Dillon, who was back on two legs. "Is another trip to the infirmary necessary, Amsdale?"
That's the last thing I need! "No, sir."
"Then get the hell out of my sight. All of you!"
Like mice scurrying away from an angry cat, the recruits bolted. Dillon tried not to stumble down the stairs and barely succeeded. He ignored people asking him if he was okay and made a beeline towards the barracks.
Once inside, he climbed into bed and started concentrating, putting several fingers in precise places on his head. He hated it every time this happened, even if it was just natural order of things for people like him.
(Year 841)
"Feeling better?" Matthew asked after wiping the remnants of blood from the seven-year-old's face. It had taken nearly fifteen minutes for his face to stop bleeding. He reckoned it was normal all things considered.
Dillon looked away bitterly, refusing to answer him.
The man heaved a heavy sigh as he dumped the bloodied rag into a nearby bucket. "I know it hurts, Dillon, but that's just the way things are now. Your powers are growing and those mental blocks need to be improved consistently when this happens. I'll be there to help you-."
"Why can't you take them away?"
Matthew, while sympathetic, shook his head. "We've been over this, son. They are a part of you. You have to get used to them."
"You won't even try!" the boy raged suddenly, kicking the bucket in the midst of his tantrum. "You keep telling me that you can't, but you won't even try."
"It could hurt you far worse than either of us could imagine," he told him patiently, though it was getting thin. "I'm not about to risk your life doing something that could be detrimental to you in the long run."
"I'm hearing voices! My ears and nose are bleeding! How loud do I have to scream before you make it stop!?" he cried, tears filling in his eyes. "I don't want to be a freak anymore! I don't... please, Dad. Take them away."
Dillon gasped as his father forcibly grabbed him. To his surprise, the man had him trapped against his chest in a firm embrace, refusing to let go. He wanted to get away, hide from all this trouble, but there was nowhere to go.
"It's gonna be okay, Dillon. I know it hurts, but I'm going to be with you every step of the way," Matthew swore. "You are not a freak, you hear me? You are my son, and I love you so much."
God, I was such a brat. Dillon thought to himself once the blocks were rejuvenated. The voices had finally died down to the point of silence just in time for a lot of the guys to crowd around his bed.
"Dude, are you okay?" Connie asked. "You looked like you were about to vomit."
"That's what happens when a walking, talking sledgehammer hits you," he replied with a grimace. "Look, I'll be fine. The bleeding stopped. Just... give me my space, okay?"
The boys wisely did as he asked, though Marco patted him on the shoulder. "Get some rest, Dillon. We don't want you to go through more than necessary around here."
He rolled his eyes at that. "No need to dote on me, Marco... but I appreciate the concern.
Once they all headed to their bunks, Dillon found himself staring at the ceiling of the bunk above him. No matter how hard he tried, he could not take his mind off that memory. It all made sense now. Eren was so traumatized by his past that he turned it to near insane rage. He doubted anyone would have fared better in that situation.
It was that line of thought that made his next decision. With a grunt, he hoisted himself out of his bunk.
"Hey, where are you going?" Thomas asked.
"I need some air," Dillon said in passing as he stepped outside.
Thirty minutes of waiting proved to be worth it as he spotted the familiar figure of Eren heading towards the barracks with exhaustion ever so apparent. Ten laps was no joke, especially at this time of night.
"Eren."
The boy in question stopped and glared, green eyes brewing with a storm of anger. "What do you want?"
Dillon raised his hands in defense. "I just want to talk."
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What about?"
"About us not being at each other's throats anymore."
A glimmer of surprise appeared in Eren's face. Then, he responded in that stubborn tone of his, "I'm not apologizing for wanting to kick that horse-face's head in."
Horse-face? I don't see it. "I'm not talking about Jean. I'm talking about you and me."
It seemed like Eren would refuse, but he took Dillon off-guard with a simple, "I'm willing to talk."
"Believe it or not, I don't wake up every day with the goal of making you miserable," Dillon began.
"I didn't think so. That would mean thinking about something besides yourself," Eren said, his expression wary and his voice sullen.
"You think I'm that conceited?" he asked.
"You are. You're just like everyone I've ever met from Wall Sina."
"How so?"
Eren glared at him, clenching his fist. "You can't even see it. You just open your mouth and point out how everyone else doesn't see things right. You even talk about the Titans like you understand. You don't; you've never even seen one. You just hide behind a damn wall. But go ahead. Tell people off about things you don't understand. Dillon's from Wall Sina. He knows what's right and what's wrong."
Dillon's eyes traveled to the ground, a little ashamed. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He never realized how arrogant and insulting he sounded to someone who witnessed the horrors of the Titans first-hand, and yet he accomplished those things. A sigh left his mouth. "You're right. I've never seen a Titan. I wasn't in Shiganshina like you were." Slowly, his eyes went back to Eren's. "But if you think that everything I have said is me thinking about myself, you're wrong."
Eren looked at him impatiently, challenging him. "Go on."
"Eren, I want to take the fight to those monsters," Dillon said.
Nothing prepared the green-eyed boy for that declaration. Not once did Dillon talk about what branch he was going to join upon graduation. The way he carried himself, he seemed to be the type to become part of the Military Police. "You're going to join the Survey Corps?"
"Yes."
The surprise quickly turned to suspicion as Eren asked, "And why would I believe a Sina Brat would join the Scouts?"
"Why else would you think I'm here?"
Eren scoffed. "It's all about your status. You don't give a damn about what we've been through. You just want to look good to your rich brethren."
Dillon gave him a look of disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Eren, have you heard nothing about my family? The Military Police wants our heads on a pike because of what my mom does. Check the newspapers. You're bound to see the Amsdale name written in a negative light. And the Garrison? I'm not the kind of guy who would spend his career guarding Walls. So, with all that in mind, Eren, what's the most logical conclusion you can make?"
Now it was Eren's turn to feel cowed. Dillon Amsdale, the privileged blacksmith from Wall Sina, someone who had never seen a Titan before, was leaving the comfort of his home to join the Scouts. That took guts to make that step, as much as he hated to admit it. Eren sighed and scratched the back of his head. "I suppose if you're going to be an asshole, better an asshole that's going to do something about it. Guess I'm that sort of asshole, too. Sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," he replied. "I never wanted to make enemies, least of all with someone who's been through hell."
"It's just so different when you see it. When it's your family. When it's your home." It was like some of the fire in him had consumed the reserves, revealing an exhausted boy in its wake. "When it's some you care about..."
"You lost someone?" Dillon asked quietly.
Eren looked down. "My mom." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "When the Colossal Titan kicked through the gate, the rubble landed all over the place. As soon as we knew what was going on, I ran with Mikasa back to my house, but it had been smashed. My mother was trapped in the rubble. We weren't strong enough to get her out. Guys like that horse-face…" Eren clenched his fist as his mind followed its own special trail of logic. "There was a soldier there, someone who could have helped us and her. There was a Titan coming our way. I can remember its smile. It was just one all on its own. I guess the others were busy eating someone else. The bastard, Hannes, he charged it. Then he froze, turned tail and ran. He grabbed us up and left our mom behind."
"And the Titan killed her," Dillon finished sadly.
"That's the kind of soldiers people like Jean turn out to be. That's what caution gets you. You get to live, and someone else gets to die in your place."
"So why try to get people like them to join the Scouts?" he pressed.
"There's not many of us left." Eren tried not to focus on the memories of more than 250,000 people walking out of the gates to their deaths. "We need everyone they can get. I guess for the same reason you're trying to talk to an idiot like me, huh? Everyone's got something to offer. We're here to get better. To be ready for them. I guess I just want us to actually be ready for them."
"Eren, if you want people to rally to fight Titans, you're going about it wrong," Dillon said carefully, trying not to anger him. "A lot of people think that if they follow you, you're going to get them all killed."
"And if we don't fight we're going to get someone else killed. That's what happens when you don't think you can win. If I'm going to give my life for something, I want to be making a difference."
"If you want people to follow you, you need to convince them." He gave him a pointed look. "Eren, no one is denying your passion to fight them, but when you talk about sending the Titans to Hell and that you are going to butcher them all, they think you're crazy, and I don't blame them." He sighed. "They think the end of the world is coming, and that they'll be eaten by those monsters. They want to live out the rest of their lives the way they see fit. I can't stop Jean from joining the Military Police, but at least I can give him a dose of reality on those bastards."
"There are only two options: kill them all or let them eat us. I'm going with kill them all." There it was again, much to Dillon's annoyance. "You think you can convince Jean, fine. But I don't want to hear that bastard run his mouth like he knows what he's talking about."
"The only thing he has to go on about the Scouts are the few numbers that return from the Expeditions and you," Dillon said calmly. "You can't fault him for having a negative perspective."
"I don't care if there's a negative perspective! Everyone needs to just wake up and see the truth!" Eren shot back before reining it in. "I shouldn't take that out on you though."
"I appreciate that, Eren, but I know I don't make things easy." Dillon sighed as he sat down on the steps of the barracks, giving enough room in case Eren wanted to sit. "Sometimes, I wonder if they're proud of me."
"Your parents?"
"Yeah. They really didn't want me to enlist, not after what happened to Wall Maria, but I couldn't afford to stay in Yarckel. For one, the Amsdale family isn't exactly admired."
That perked Eren's interest. "You said the MPs want you dead. Why?"
He chuckled. "My mom is an attorney who doesn't take crap from those bastards. If an MP is guilty and they are up on the stand, she ensures they are convicted. If it wasn't for Darius Zackley putting us in his protection, the MPs would have killed us all a long time ago."
That explained a few things concerning Dillon's behavior. "So, your mother has more balls than horse-face, too?"
Dillon still couldn't see Jean looking like a horse, but he ignored it. "More than a whole lot of people." A smirk crossed his face. "You know, with your enthusiasm, you could make a name for yourself. Join the cause, take down the assholes in the Interior."
Eren shook his head, imagining the hell his mother could rain down, but also knew just how hard the MPs would retaliate. "I think I'll start with something easier."
"You sure? She could use a new secretary. Just fill out a last will and you'll be good to go," Dillon offered.
"No, no. I'd rather try and fight Annie again." He paused and looked around as though afraid she might here. "Never mind. I'd be dead either way."
He shrugged. "Eh, Annie's not that bad."
"I didn't say she was," Eren said a bit too quickly.
"Easy there, Yeager. I think we'll be okay." Another sigh left his mouth. "You know, I told Annie that I enlisted because I want to make a difference. That's only half the reason."
"What's the other half?"
There was hesitancy in his voice now since it was hard to admit. "Because I'm afraid."
"What?"
"That day when the Titans invaded, I spent nearly a week believing I was going to die, that everyone around me would be devoured. I'm afraid to be eaten by a Titan. I'm afraid for my family. I'm afraid the Titans will get in again. I'm afraid of what the government will do in response if it happens again." He closed his eyes for a moment. "If I can kill one of those things, then maybe I won't be scared anymore."
"Come on," Eren responded, the fire back in his eyes. "After this training, we'll be armed and ready to take them on no matter how many of them show up. If those things invade again, we'll destroy them. When we go out in the..." He trailed off and dropped his arm to his side. He stood there silently. The energy was gone as quick as it came. "I get it," he eventually said.
Dillon looked up at him in surprise. "Huh?"
"I saw that thing look over the wall. I saw a guy with the same training we have piss himself and run at the sight of one of those things. I saw another one just smash through the interior gate, killing everyone in its way. I saw it all. Then I nearly starved to death. I only made it because Armin led and Mikasa dragged me along. I'm nothing in the end compared to what's out there." He sighed, remembering the days before the invasion. "When I was a kid, Armin and I would get bullied all the time. Mikasa couldn't stop it permanently. I was helpless then, too. The only thing that gave me a fighting chance, the only thing that could get them to back off when she wasn't around, was the fact I didn't let myself quit. It's all I've got. And if I start thinking I can't win, then I won't. I have to try. It's the only way I can fight them."
"So many people here have given up on hope. Jean, Thomas, Mina, Annie, and many more. I honestly don't know what it will take to convince them otherwise." There was a part of Dillon that wondered if revealing what he was would help, but he decided against it. Too many questions, too many paranoid conspiracies about him, and probably a trip to the dissection table would be at the end of that road.
"If I didn't have that, I guess I wouldn't be any different than Jean. But Annie? Come on, she could take them."
He nodded in agreement. "She could, but she doesn't see the point. That dead look in her eyes? Hopelessness."
Eren nodded back. "I've seen enough of that look."
"Won't be an easy fix. I can tell you that." Dillon stood up, stretching a bit. "So, are we good?"
"Yeah." Eren held out a hand. "So, what do you say we make sure to help them get rid of that look, even Annie, and cut the rest of the bullshit?"
He smiled, gripping his hand tightly and shaking it. This wasn't the result he expected, but it was welcome nonetheless. "I like the sound of that."
"See you around then, Dillon."
"See you..." His voice trailed off as his eyes widened. "Uh oh."
"What?"
"She has been watching us."
"Shit!" Eren whirled around, a panicked look on his face. However, there was nothing there, prompting him to turn back to the smug bastard with glare. "Not funny."
Dillon chuckled. "I bet if all the Titans had Annie's face, you'd be running for the hills in a heartbeat."
"That would do it," he begrudgingly admitted. "Don't scare me like that. That's just beyond what's okay."
Dillon laughed a little harder. "Yeah, that would be terrifying. Come on. Let's get back inside before our wonderful commandant comes after us."
As the two entered inside, they processed everything that occurred. To think that just a few hours ago, they were at each other's throats. Now, they actually felt like comrades. Still, Dillon couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
Remastered Edits: This chapter deals with a very significant change. Thanks to Necromancy101, he helped me realize the untapped potential I missed out on. I let my bias against Eren get in the way of actually doing something with him and Dillon. Don't get me wrong: my issues with Eren aren't going to change, but in the end, I think the two needed to come to a mutual understanding of each other. Also, it gives me the change to undo how badly, in my opinion, I screwed up Chapter 4 in the original.
Feel free to comment on this one, and I hope to see you guys again in the next chapter.
9/30/20: Redid the scene between Eren and Reiner. Just because it was taken from the anime doesn't mean it has to be word-for-word. Personally, I think what is said here flows better. Towards the end, I added a small flashback between young Dillon and his father that explains the blocks, but also how he felt regarding his powers at the time.
