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TW: rape, murder, brutal injuries

There are a few things Eren would never do. First of all, he would never cannonball naked into a pool at freezing temperatures– no, that's something an idiot like Jean would do for a bit of cash in his pocket. Also, he would never eat brussels sprouts even if his life depended on it. But, on a more serious note, Eren would never involve Armin in his criminal affairs. He would do anything to protect him, even if it meant lying his ass off just so Armin wouldn't know he was about to waltz into a room full of rifles, overpowered drug dealers, and men a hundred times more scary than Eren's new roommate.

But he knows that Armin knows. Armin is smart enough to know why Eren treats him to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners nearly everyday despite "working at a junkyard," or why sometimes he shows up with a new cut or bruise on his body, the nasty purple markings doing nothing to falter Eren's grin when he sees his best friend. He grins because he doesn't want to scare Armin, but he thinks he's failed at that already.

"Is something wrong, Eren? Because you can tell me." Armin's blue eyes are sharp and narrow, molded almost like Levi's when he cornered Eren at the pier the day before. Armin is leaning against the stainless steel counter of the soup kitchen's backroom, his palms supporting his weight behind him. Eren's eyes travel downward to Armin's exposed forearms and mentally winces at the white, horizontal cuts aligning his arm like marks on a tree branch. Armin's apron is dirty, an unknown, creamy substance staining the front.

Eren is holding his folded suit pieces in his arms. He hugs it closer as if Armin could figure out his secret if he looked too closely.

"Nothing, Arm," Eren says unconvincingly, glancing back at Armin for a half-second. He immediately wishes he could take back that statement because he's never called Armin "Arm."

"You're acting weird," Armin points out with a pout.

"I'm not!" Eren cries with a laugh. He crosses his arms defensively. "It's you who's acting weird, not me. I just came to hang with my friend before your break is over."

Armin shakes his head. "Why do you have a suit?"

"I have a job interview as a... desk receptionist. Fudged my resume a bit."

"Well, good luck," Armin says, clearly unconvinced. After a moment, Armin says, "Seriously, what's going on with you? What's this all about?"

"Nothing!" Eren's outburst colors his face a bright shade of red. He takes in Armin's shocked expression and breathes deeply. "It's not about anything. It's not… anything. There's nothing going on with me. I just wanted to check in with you, that's all."

"Eren."

"Yeah?"

"I know you're a drug dealer."

Eren meets Armin's determined gaze. His blonde brows are furrowed, lips trembling slightly. "Oh," is all Eren can say, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Yeah…" Armin's shoulders drop, too, and he offers his friend a tiny smile, "I know you're doing it for me, us, our dreams of getting out of this hellhole. But you can stop now. It's scaring me."

"W-What- I-" Eren's grip on his suit loosens and he steps backward in surprise. "Did something happen?"

Armin's teeth graze over his lip. He glances at the sink on his right, tiny droplets dripping every few seconds from the nozzle. "I think Reiner's dangerous."

"He's a supplier, Armin. He probably cooks that shit up in his basement. He's like…" Eren fumbles with his hands in the air as he searches for a metaphor, "A dumb but kinda funny and lovable jock. He's a bro. Not all criminals are dangerous."

"Eren, that's literally-"

"Am I? Are you scared of me?" Eren taunts, his hands curling into fists. "I'm a drug dealer– does that mean I'm dangerous? Inferior? A good-for-nothing-"

"No, stop!" Armin cries. "That's not what I'm trying to say at all. I just don't have a good feeling about him, about this, everything that you're doing. I feel like you're in over your head a-and… you're gonna get hurt." Armin finishes his sentence flatly, bottom lip continuing to waver with his voice.

"I know what I'm doing," Eren says curtly as he turns his back toward Armin. "I'll come by tomorrow, okay?"

"Er-"

Eren shuts the door behind him before Armin can finish his sentence. He draws out a long breath and wipes away the tears that threaten to spill over his eyes.

The warehouse is about as shady as a warehouse could get. Graffiti and grime crawl all over the walls and steel frames. There are piles of trash, pieces of wood, and debris that are degraded down from the gnawing teeth of rodents that Eren could hear are fucking underneath. The warehouse is huge, abandoned, and ugly, so the large, round, metal table and matching chairs in the middle of the room look severely out of place.

Two people are already sitting at the table. A stoic woman, who introduces herself as Yelena, sits at the farthest seat from the door. A man, Floch, sits next to her, casually leaning back in his seat with a bored expression on his face.

"What the fuck is this?" Eren mutters to himself as Reiner lets him in through a creaky door that definitely needs a new set of hinges. Another suited man, Bertolt, hands him his suit jacket back after thoroughly frisking it (and Eren, to his embarrassment) for anything suspicious.

"Our new home, baby," Reiner replies with a laugh and clap of his hands, closing the door behind them.

Eren looks him over. Reiner's blonde hair, usually short and fuzzy, is gelled back rather fashionably. His cream-colored suit is fitted and designer, his undershirt ripped open two buttons too much– all a stark contrast to Eren's cheap, hand-me-down suit from the shelter and tighter style.

"What do you mean?" Eren asks, following Reiner and Bertolt to the table. Floch and Yelena give nods of acknowledgement to the trio.

"Sit," Reiner instructs, gesturing to the chair opposite him as he takes a seat himself. Eren obeys. Reiner smiles in satisfaction. "Zeke recently acquired this place. We needed a new place for the shipments. Gonna fix it up sometime soon."

"Drug shipments?"

"Drugs and…" Reiner licks his lips. "Skin. Foreign pussy."

"Oh, that's nice," Eren swallows, his throat constricting uncomfortably. His skin crawls– he's no longer sure if this is something he wants to be a part of but it's too late to back out. He's seen too much.

He glances at Bertolt, who is sitting next to Reiner. His hair is black as a raven and he's absurdly tall. His black suit is also tailor-made, causing Eren to rub at his thighs as he feels more and more out of place. Bertolt looks completely unfazed by Reiner's comments, as if he's used to hearing it.

"Why did you invite me here, Reiner?" Eren asks, fidgeting in his seat.

Reiner flashes him a thumbs up. "Cuz you deserve it." Reiner checks his watch, which Eren recognizes to be from an expensive brand. "Zeke and Annie should be here any minute."

Just as Reiner finishes his sentence, the door swings open to reveal two more blonde individuals. Eren peers at the doorway, which is now guarded by an unknown man in black.

Zeke saunters in with a wide grin on his face, round glasses shining under the harsh ceiling lights. He's wearing a beige suit, which compliments his features well, in Eren's opinion. He exudes an aura of natural leadership and Eren doesn't miss the way Reiner and Bertolt's eyes practically sparkle upon seeing Zeke.

Everyone in the room comes to an abrupt stand and Eren follows suit. He glances at a tiny figure behind Zeke– a woman, Annie, in a black pantsuit and a deep scowl on her face. She glares daggers at Eren once she catches him staring and he instantly shifts his gaze back to Zeke, who's approaching them with his arms wide open. Annie takes the liberty to seat herself down.

"Boss," Reiner, Bertolt, and Yelena greet at the same time, voices inclined with awe.

"Good to see you all!" Zeke grins and turns to Eren, extending his hand. His eyes widen in recognition. "I assume you're Eren? Eren Jaeger?"

Eren takes his hand in his and gives it a curt shake, trying his best to hide his trembling, "Yes, sir. Nice to meet you."

"Hm, pleasure." Zeke seats himself on Eren's right. He places a rough hand on Eren's shoulder, causing the younger man to jolt in surprise. "Relax. This is just a meeting."

This does nothing to relax Eren. His shoulders tense up considerably and Zeke laughs heartily at this as he removes his hand.

"Sorry, Boss, he's new to this, as you know," Reiner explains.

Zeke loudly slams his hand on the table in a moment of anger, causing nearly everyone except Annie to jump. Reiner whips his head in Zeke's direction, eyes wide with fear. Zeke takes a breath and smiles, speaking through his teeth, "Did I say you can speak, Reiner?"

Reiner's face falls miserably and Eren almost feels bad for him. "No, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"Good." Zeke clears his throat, the sound echoing against the steel walls of the warehouse. "Okay, onto business, my friends. Arms?"

Annie places her hands on the table, clasping her dainty fingers together. Eren tries his best to hold back his surprised splutter at the thought of Annie illegally trafficking arms.

"Profit margins are good. 23%. I sent in an order for a new shipment of assault rifles. Also, the rats caught our scent for a bit but I took care of it." Annie's voice is low but clear, cutting through the stiff air like glass. Her voice never wavers and she meets Zeke's curious gaze head on, not even blinking.

"Lovely work as always, Annie," Zeke praises with a nod.

They continue on like this around the table. Eren learns that Yelena is much like a secretary. She scribbles in her notes during the entire meeting and updates the attendees about disputes with clients as well as growing market demands (skin being one of them, which makes Eren much more uncomfortable than he already is).

Eren goes after Yelena and he stumbles a bit, but successfully reports profits in his deals and his growing clientele, which earns him glowing praise from Zeke and an approving nod from Reiner.

Reiner and Bertolt also go, both dealing primarily in meth and opium. Things look good for a while, but Bertolt unfortunately has to report that sales have been dropping on his end after the cops busted one of their labs last week and he's been struggling to meet demand. Zeke isn't happy about it and gives a colorful string of insults towards cops, but nonetheless lets Bertolt off with a stern warning to do better.

Finally, it's Floch's turn. He opens his mouth in anticipation of speaking next, but Zeke speaks instead, "Eren." He faces Eren with a pleasant smile.

Eren's stomach twists like a wet rag being wrung out repeatedly. He wets his lips before replying, "Yes, sir?"

"Now that you've seen the bulk of our operations, what do you think?" Zeke sets his hands on the table and clasps them expectantly.

"Oh, uh…" Eren's eyes travel up to meet Zeke's. "It looks like we're doing well for ourselves."

"Exactly," Zeke confirms with a nod. "We're a growing empire, people. Let's do what we were sent to do, alright? We're gonna make our brothers and sisters overseas proud."

The participants around the table nod, some more eagerly than others. Reiner's thick neck looks like it's about to break from all the nodding, which is somewhat amusing to Eren.

"Amazing. You've all done an amazing job. But you know what a growing empire doesn't need?" Zeke cuts his merry laughter short, his hand on the table curling with anger.

No one answers but Eren notices Floch shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Eren holds his breath in anticipation, his throat tight and dry. His skin lines with goosebumps as he watches Zeke's smile turn into a deep, upset frown.

"Floch," Zeke's tone is so sharp he may as well have stabbed the man thrice.

Floch inhales and shuts his eyes as if he were expecting Zeke to speak up. "Yes, Boss?"

"So help me God, why is your stock plummeting? Tell me why last month, two of our most valuable products went missing and the month before that, we lost three?"

Floch doesn't reply, his mouth opening and closing as his eyes glaze over with fear. Eren pities him and wishes he could tell the man to get a grip.

"Asians, Floch. Asians. Why are all the Asians going missing? You know how much they cost, Floch? Don't you?" Zeke is as patronizing as he is angry. His calm voice is deep and reverberates across the room. Eren's breath hitches and he reminds himself not to make a sound.

"Are you killing them, Floch? Fucking them and keeping them to yourself? Do you like Asian pussy that much?" Zeke asks with an exasperated sigh.

"I-I'm sorr-" Floch nearly bites his tongue in his haste to reply and his face scrunches up as if he's about to cry.

"You don't have to answer, then, because I know." Zeke turns to Yelena, who's pulling files from a neat manila folder. She neatly places pictures of horribly mangled, bloody women on the table.

"From your porn site and computer," Yelena explains.

Yelena also flips open her laptop, which she pulls from her bag, and the screen brightens to a downloaded video. She turns it around for the group to see before pressing play. The video fades open to a man, presumably Floch, with his pants and underwear pulled down to his ankles as he stands behind a sobbing woman. She's restrained to a bed with zip ties along her bleeding wrists and ankles and Floch is holding her up, nails digging into each side of her ass. As Floch fucks into her ass, her loud protests echo throughout the warehouse. It's nearly too dark to see, but the metal of a pocket knife glints and Eren watches in abject horror as Floch drags the tip of the knife down the woman's back, the blood trailing down to her sides.

Eren swallows back a wave of nausea and blinks away tears. He notices the rest of the group is watching with straight faces and he feels even more sick. He contemplates on leaving the room, but knows he can't just do that, so he fiddles with the collar of his shirt and clenches and unclenches his fists nervously. He shuts his eyes tight, listening to the sound of skin slapping skin, the relentless dragging of the knife on the woman's back, and her screams and sobs. After a little while, her screams begin to die down and Eren dares to look again. She's given up at this point, not even sobbing anymore. Her eyes are blank, like an empty shell, even as Floch presses the knife so tightly against her throat that it bleeds.

"Turn that off, Yelena, I'm getting dinner after this," Zeke instructs with a wave of his hand. Yelena nods and closes her laptop. Eren subtly sighs in relief.

"Look at you with our stock, you sick bastard. You think we couldn't find your porn site? Are we that stupid to you?"

"I-It won't happen again, Boss. I p-promise. I promise!" Floch cries desperately, throwing up his hands to shield his face.

Zeke crosses his arms, unfazed. "Hm."

For a moment, everyone is silent except for Floch, who's damn near hysterical. He sobs, muttering apologies over and over again.

"Would you shut up?" Annie speaks up, annoyed.

Floch doesn't process her words as snot dribbles down from his nose and into his mouth. He draws in a sharp breath, blubbering uncontrollably.

"Reiner. Bertolt," Zeke says finally, wiggling his finger toward himself, "Hold Floch down."

With nothing but obedient nods, the duo locks Floch in his chair with iron-like grips. They pin his arms down on the sides of the metal chair. It screeches across the floor as Floch struggles in their grip, kicking wildly. Bertolt, obviously annoyed, rips his tie from his neck and shoves it in Floch's open mouth. Floch gags on the cloth, his muffled screams filling the room.

Eren instinctively looks away from the scene, shaking like a leaf. Zeke's attention turns to Eren and he offers him a small, albeit twisted smile.

"Eren, don't look away."

Eren jumps in his seat. This is the third time Zeke has said his name so far, and every single time, Eren wishes he were somewhere else far, far away. Eren's eyes well up with tears as he obeys Zeke's order, watching with bated breath as Floch continues to flail in his chair.

"You're new here and frankly, I'm not sure I can trust you," Zeke says loudly to Eren, attempting to drown out Floch's hysterical crying. "I mean, look at Floch. I recruited him a year ago and he repays me like this… oh, hell, poor fucker's pissed his pants now." Zeke's face wrinkles with disgust as he sniffs the urine-scented air.

Eren nods along, stomach dropping with every word. His frown creases deeper.

"I'll get to the point." Zeke adjusts his glasses and looks straight at Eren. "Kill Floch for me, would you? I'm tired."

Floch screams louder and gags on the tie, his saliva spilling down his chest and onto his thighs.

Eren blinks in surprise and laughs nervously behind his palm. "W-What do you mean, sir? I can't-"

"You can," Zeke says encouragingly. He points to Floch. "You see that tie? Just give it a good squeeze around his neck and you're good to go."

Eren bares his teeth in an attempt to not cry. He inhales sharply, feeling as if he's just been stabbed in the gut. His insides curl and there are uncomfortable ringing sounds in his ears. He swallows thickly, throat filling with the bile from his stomach.

"Hurry up, you fuck!" Reiner groans, pushing his arms down even more to stop Floch from running from his grip.

Annie and Yelena both watch intently, gazes flickering between Eren, Floch, and Zeke.

"Eren," Zeke says with the same tone a strict father would use on his young son, "Do it now."

Eren opens his mouth to protest, but Zeke stares him down, an underlying threat in his expression. Eren lets out a strangled whine from his throat from the pressure in the room. He gets to his feet with much difficulty as his legs threaten to buckle from under him. Slowly, he walks toward Floch's chair, shoulders heaving up and down as he sucks in shallow breaths. His eyes sting with tears once he meets Floch's fearful, wide eyes with his own. His expression reminds Eren of a rabbit caught in a trap, awaiting its doom as the walls of the tiny box close in on its pitiful existence.

Floch shakes his head wildly and manages to get in two hard kicks to Eren's thighs. Eren winces from the sudden blow, but it angers him. He blinks, images of Floch raping and mutilating the woman seared into his brain. Her screams replay in his head over and over and over again. He glances back at the pictures of five horribly disfigured women on the table and knows they met the same fate as the woman in the video. Eren reminds himself that Floch is a danger to society, a pig– one that hardly deserves to live.

Before Eren knows it, Bertolt's tie is in his hands after pulling it from Floch's mouth. It's slick and damp with warm saliva and Eren makes a note to wash his hands thoroughly later. He toys with the tie in his hands, pulling the thick cloth into a straight line.

"Stop! Stop, please! Please!" Floch pleads through intense sobs. He chokes on his saliva, continuing to kick in Eren's direction with all his might.

Eren traces his fingers along the tie, clearly stalling.

"Now or never, Eren," Bertolt pushes him quietly, forehead covered in a layer of sweat as he holds Floch down.

Eren gulps and shuts his eyes tight, pulling on the tie one last time.

"Eren!" Floch screams, his throat hoarse. Eren jolts at the sound of his name. "Please, please, I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"Liar," Eren declares in a shrilly, whiny voice, "You're making me do this. It's you, 'cuz you're scum. You don't deserve to live. You're sick."

"Eren, I'm not making you do this! I'm not!"

"Shut up, you pig!" Eren cries as he wraps Bertolt's tie around Floch's neck and fastens it securely. He watches as Floch lets out an involuntary gasp as the air is forced out of his lungs. Slowly, Eren pulls, the cloth growing tighter around Floch's neck. Floch drools, making guttural noises as the pressure tightens. Eren's shallow, infrequent breath matches Floch's as he struggles for air. Eren pulls again forcefully– Floch wheezes and his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

Eren pulls the hardest he can and watches as Floch's face gradually drains of any color. Soon, his wheezing slows down and his body grows limp. Eren realizes he's stopped fighting once Reiner and Bertolt withdraw their arms. He releases the tie, letting his shoulders sag miserably and arms droop at his sides.

Eren is panting. A chorus of "shit, what the fuck did I do?" echoes in his brain. His head spins and he takes a step backward, but stops as he feels the need to faint. Suddenly, there are loud clapping sounds. Eren turns around, chest heaving, to see Zeke standing and clapping happily, a huge grin on his lips. He looks at him in a daze, confusion etched on his face.

"That was beautiful, Eren." Zeke looks around the table with a raised brow. The people around the table stand and reluctantly give Eren a scattered applause. The sight makes Eren want to throw up. His gut wrenches with every second that passes and his eyes go in and out of focus as he attempts to stare back at Zeke.

Reiner's eyes shine with approval as he approaches Eren. He places a large, meaty hand on Eren's shoulder and offers him a glowing smile.

"Welcome to the Marleyan Syndicate, brother. You've done well."

Eren is beyond dizzy. He's thrown up four times all the way back to the apartment and is, frankly, amazed he's even made it this far. His head pounds aggressively and tears stain his face, neck, and chest. He thinks he might have screamed all the way back, too, but it's all too much of a blur for Eren to handle.

But Eren's screams are no match for the way Floch screamed as Eren tightened the tie around his neck. They're no match for the screams of the woman in the video, too. Eren wants to curl up into a ball and hide somewhere, anywhere to get him out of this mess.

He killed someone. He killed a man.

He lifts his fists to Levi's apartment door, banging the wood rapidly. Guttural sobs escape his throat and he lets out a high-pitched whine, unable to contain himself. He sniffles loudly, furiously swiping at his tears so Levi wouldn't see.

The door opens not a second later, and Levi appears from behind. He's wearing sweats and is holding a cup of coffee in his hands. Eren knows he was waiting for him, just like he said he would.

"Welcome home, brat." Levi pauses, his expression twisting into one of confusion. "What happened?"

Eren wants to stay composed. He freezes up at the sight of Levi, and in his best, most calm voice, says, "I-"

But the words can't come out and instead present as gibberish. His face contorts grotesquely as he releases a strangled cry. Levi's concerned expression quickly turns into understanding and he sets his coffee on the counter before opening his arms just slightly.

Eren lets out another soft whine before pulling Levi into his arms, effectively wrapping himself around the older man. He squeezes, so much so that it reminds Eren of Floch, which makes him cry even harder. He feels Levi's hands travel up his spine before they rest on his back as Levi adjusts himself comfortably in Eren's tight embrace. It's comforting to Eren, almost, and he knows that Levi is the only person in the world who might have a chance at understanding him right now.

Levi's face is pressed up against Eren's chest, so when he speaks, his voice is muffled to the point where Eren can barely hear him.

"Whatever it is, you're gonna be okay."