The journey upstairs was made in dead silence. Hanji's hand became slicker in his as they mounted the stairs, took the elevator up four floors, then five, then six. Eren compulsively used his other hand to stroke between Annie's fur and Petra's feathers. Whatever humor they'd found in the boiler room was long gone. Eren's thoughts flit among fears and hopes, worry and praise, images of flying and swimming, of magic and friends, all of it crashing down on him together. Mostly though, he thought of Armin.
Eren took a shuddering breath just as the elevator dinged.
"Want me to come with you?" Hanji asked.
Too late to make a decision—selfless or selfishness? The scream of "SHIFTER!" came echoing off the walls, knocking the four of them backwards with the force of its fury. Again Eren felt his limbs being bound; again he was dragged through the air, leaving a stricken Hanji behind. Faster than ever before Eren was tossed into Irwin's presence, literally skidding and rolling to end up at his feet. Grimly Eren worked his way back up, getting shaking legs underneath him. After the day he'd had he was going to have bruises. Lots of them.
Still, there was satisfaction in the fact that the ache Eren felt all over—in his limbs and around his heart—was nothing to how Irwin looked. Gone was the collected man of means. Irwin stood hunched now, one arm wrapped around his gut like he'd developed a stitch. His previously clean-cut shirt was pulling loose from his pants and a sheen of sweat glinted across his brow. Irwin was heaving; he looked scared.
"I haven't been having a good day, Shifter." The words hissed out between Irwin's teeth. Combined with his unconscious swaying he became a snake, one poised to strike at any moment. Eren crept back a step.
"Do you know why my day has been so bad, Shifter?"
"No." Eren mumbled. He wished that Irwin would stop saying his not-name.
"Shifter." It came again. "I've lost something valuable today—no. Except I haven't, have I? Lost it, that is. It was stolen from me. No doubt by your precious Corporal. Playing me like a fool; pretending to finally be dead! Do you have any idea what I'll do to him when I find him?"
Eren did. He didn't know if Irwin was referring to a stolen seal or a stolen Annie—likely both, given the labor of his breath, the energy it had obviously taken just to magically drag Eren here—but the punishment for stealing either would be the same. Eren nodded, so hard he nearly rocked his friends right off his shoulder.
"Good," Irwin said. His lips pulled back from his teeth. "Excellent. Then know that this is exactly what I will do to you if you don't make my day better."
A long pause came. Then, eyes wide, Irwin cupped a hand around his ear.
"How can I make your day better?" Eren monotoned.
"Better…?"
It came out cutting: "Sir."
"Ah. I'm so very glad you asked, Shifter. You can help by getting rid of that."
Irwin pointed to a side room and for the first time Eren noticed that they had an audience. Silent and shivering, spirits huddled in the middle space between the door and their boss, unwilling to get too close to either. Whatever "that" was, it was scary. Whatever was hidden away, it terrified these workers just as much as Irwin did.
That couldn't possible be Armin. Right?
Hanji had said he'd been eating people…
"That." Irwin said the word like a title, a horrible new name. "That has eaten nearly all the food in our stores. Its wasted a whole night's worth of water. It ate a handful of my employees." Irwin didn't even pretend to be worried about them as individuals. This was a loss of commodity. His fingers fisted into his already wrinkled shirt and there was a drop of saliva on his chin. "That thing has made a very bad day even worse, Shifter, but you'll be the one to fix things. Do you know why?"
Irwin lurched forward, moving his hands from his own shirt to Eren's. He didn't seem to notice that he'd reclaimed his human clothes. Eren didn't think Irwin was seeing much of anything at all, at least beyond a red haze of panic. It was reflected in the veins around his eyes.
"You let him in." It was an accusation. A question. "That thing says you let him in, Shifter."
"Yes." Eren answered.
"Why?"
'Because he's my friend,' was what he meant to say. 'A friend. Something you'll never fucking have. I wanted him warm and dry. I wanted him to have company.' But now Eren was realizing that the kindest thing he could have done for any friend of his was to tell them to keep far, far away. To run.
What spilled out of Eren's lips instead was, "Armin."
"What." Irwin's eyes narrowed.
"His name is Armin," Eren spat. "Not 'thing.' Not 'that.' You can't just—"
Irwin's hands jumped from Eren's collar to his throat. There was only a brief, hot pressure though before Irwin pulled back with a cry. Near the first knuckle on his right hand there was a ruby-read droplet. Annie had sunk her teeth gleefully into his flesh, hitting near the exact same spot where Erwin had taken a hit. Before Irwin hid the wound away in his handkerchief Eren spotted a deep scratch nearby. Looking he found Petra with a tiny talon extended, her round body puffed with rage.
"What are those things?" Irwin roared.
"You don't recognize them?" Luckily Eren's thoughtless question was drowned out by a shout that came from behind the door. Eren nearly jumped out of his skin, a cry of, "HUMAN. I WANT THE HUMAN," assaulting him in a voice he didn't recognize. The other spirits did though. They cowered, their tense postures assuring Eren that this was far from the first time such a cry had come.
Irwin knotted the handkerchief violently at the base of his wrist. "You will go in there, Shifter," he said. "And you will make him leave. But before you do you will suck every last bit of gold from that gelatinous creature that you can. I'll have enough to recover from your mischief or I swear, I'll have your head as payment instead." A wicked, insane glint wormed into Irwin's eyes. "I'll have four heads I think. Three titans and a human boy's. Or maybe I'll change your precious family back just so you can see their expressions right before I shove the spikes beneath their chins. Or maybe I'll let them stay titans for all eternity. Maybe I'll have them eat you." Irwin was frothing now, his whole body shaking. "OR MAYBE I'LL JUST EAT THEM MYSELF; A FINE CUISINE, DON'T YOU THINK? GO, SHIFTER. GO NOW."
Eren ran, his breath short and sweat breaking out along his back. Any place was better than here. With one hand keeping Annie and Petra balanced he shouldered his way through the spirits, none of them particularly willing to get in his way. There was a clear path to that door and Eren took it, diving through on skinned knees. It slammed shut behind him.
The room was in many ways like the one that housed the big tub. It had walls but no ceiling, just the barest illusion of privacy. A foot or so away Eren could hear the murmuring that had started up as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. He had little interest in what those spirits were gossiping about though. All of his focus was on Armin.
He'd grown larger since Eren had last seen him, if that were even possible. Sitting amongst a mountain of plants, saucers, and bowls, he clicked an empty pair of chopsticks in one hand while the other balanced a massive book. Both were dropped when Eren rolled into the room. The book went tumbling, unheeded, into a half-finished tub of chicken where it floated amongst the gravy.
"Hello, friend." Armin said.
Eren could only nod a greeting back. It was Armin all right but it didn't sound like him. No more 'ah ah's and softer, gentler sounds. Whoever's voice he'd acquired had too bossy a tone for the quiet-manner spirit, and his body… it wasn't just the unnaturalness of his growth that had Eren drawing back. He looked intimidating in his size, hands now splayed over enough blubber that he could squash Eren flat with the simplest gesture. There had been moments, especially back on the bridge, when Eren had thought that Armin could truly be a threat if he'd wanted, a combination of intelligence and a silent frustration. He'd never been scary though, not like now, with his maw gaping at Eren and two rows of soiled teeth protruding. Armin noted his hesitance.
"Don't be scared." He said. "Don't! I've been waiting a long time for you. You said you'd come back and you did for a while but then you left again…" Armin frowned and drew one hand near his head, like it hurt. His movements, the churning of his body, all of it was slow now, senseless and stupid looking. Armin pulled himself out of his trance with difficulty.
"Do you want food?" He gestured sluggishly to the piles of half-eaten dishes. "Or gold!" His palms filled with it, easily the quickest thing he'd done so far. "I'm not giving it to anyone else, you know. It's just for you."
"No thank you, Armin." Eren murmured. It felt like a long time since he'd cried but Eren wanted to weep now looking at his friend.
"You're sick." He didn't realize he'd said it out loud until Armin frowned again.
"No I'm not." He said. "Friend, I'm better than I've ever been. There's food, and company, and you." His head twirled as he tried to smile, twisting nearly three hundred and sixty degrees. "Why would I be sick?"
Eren could feel Annie stiffening on his shoulder and Petra expanding like a defensive puffer-fish. When Armin extended the handful of gold he had to settle a finger on top of them both to keep them from attacking him as they had Irwin.
Eren swallowed. "I told you before, I don't want gold. But… I do want to apologize…"
"Apologize?" Armin's voice squeaked, almost as if he'd never heard the word before. That's not what caught Eren's attention though. It was the type of squeak he'd given: not like a mouse's but more of a croak.
Like a frog's.
"Did… did you eat Moblit?" Eren whispered. Something horrifying cold settled in his stomach.
"Moblit?"
"Yes, Moblit!" Eren cried. "He's my friend too, okay? Fuck, Armin, you can't just eat people! You can't walk around here just… just…" Eren gestured furiously around at the room. "Eating everything. What's wrong with you?"
Armin surged forward. His mouth opened even larger and a drop of burning saliva fell on the top of Eren's shorts. The rest of him quivered and the gold, which he'd still been hanging onto hopefully until now, scattered into dust.
"I don't know," Armin hissed. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Friend. If I did maybe I could fix it and then the rest of them would like me. Or maybe they'd just leave me alone. Do you think that would work?" His head twisted painfully again, round and round. "They're all so mean, Friend. For decades and centuries and millenniums. All the other spirits; so mean. No baths for Armin. No food. No company—and I was too much of a coward to demand it. I sat with my books and no one bothered me, even though sometimes I wanted them too. Even when they were mean. Anything, anything at all. I'm lonely, Friend. So lonely. But then you let me into the bathhouse. You said you'd come back and you did." Armin blinked."… But then you left again. You left, Friend. I wanted to give you things because I like you. Ha. Ha ha. Isn't it funny? I like you so much and I thought YOU LIKED ME!"
Armin's voice rose to a staggering pitch, half laughing and half howling. His arms shot forward to corner Eren on either side, his bulk shivering with too much emotion. Eren, in contrast, held quite still.
"So is that it, Friend?" Armin seethed. "Are you done? Did you come to apologize for letting me in?"
Eren shook his head.
"No, Armin. I came to apologize for leaving you alone."
The spirit's face sagged like dough. The rest of his body followed. "…What?"
"I'm sorry," Eren repeated. "For leaving you. And, uh, for yelling at you and stuff. Earlier. There was a lot of shit going on and a friend was, you know, dying and stuff… but I guess that's not really an excuse, huh? So. Um. Sorry."
"What?" Armin said again. "… Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why would you apologize for those things? They're such normal things."
Eren's face scrunched. "They're—? No. No they're not. Shit, Armin. It's… it's because I do like you, okay? We're friends… Right?"
The last came out tentatively. Armin only twisted his head some more, his body still shivering unnaturally in the warm room. He looked ill—all wide eyes and pale gums, his blonde hair sticking out every which way from what might have been sweat. Worst of all, Eren didn't think that Armin was actually seeing him anymore, not really. Since his bout of screaming he'd immediately shrunk back, as if he feared the soft words Eren was speaking now a lot more than the abuse he'd been spewing earlier.
Blame Armin? Sure.
Demand that he leave? Definitely.
Shove him aside? Normal.
It all seemed so normal to him.
So normal, in fact, that he was willing to forgive Eren for all that more than he was willing to believe that he'd been at fault. Even now Armin shrunk back at Eren's question—willing to use the term "friend" but not, apparently, have it given in turn—while simultaneously extending his hands. They again filled with gold.
"Friend," he said and gave a funny, croaking laugh. Eren winced to hear Moblit in there, somewhere.
"Are you sure you don't want gold?" Armin insisted. His eyes were glazed.
"No." Eren murmured. "No gold but… but maybe you can do something else for me?"
He felt sick at how quickly Armin nodded.
Or maybe that was sickness at the thought of what he was about to do? A little bit of both. Definitely both, if he was being honest. Petra seemed to get at what Eren was thinking because she fluttered down into his pocket and began trying to tug out what was hidden inside, her teeny-tiny wings fluttering. Annie, four times her size, scrambled down and between the two of them they succeeded in handing Eren Dot's wine bottle.
"Thanks," he said and wanted to add, 'I think.'
Didn't this have to mean something about him? Something awful? Here Eren was, lost in a place where his sole purpose was to regain his family… and he kept throwing away his options. But even that—calling it 'throwing away'—that was awful all on it's own. Was Corporal more important than his mother? No. Was his father more important than Armin? No. They weren't comparable anymore, just like Eren couldn't stick Mikasa next to Hanji and say, 'You. I love you more.' But that's sort of what this felt like. Wasn't who he chose to give the medicine to a statement all its own?
Eren didn't know. All he did know was that his family was far away and Armin was right here, right now, here because of him, swaying and sweating and smiling in a way that made Eren's stomach churn. It took him three tries to open the bottle.
"This sucks," Eren whispered before raising his voice to ask, "Armin. Will you drink this for me?"
His friend surged forward eagerly.
He had thought back in the boiler room that the remaining drops were just enough for three people, specifically two adults and a smaller child. Armin was monstrous though and the last thing Eren wanted was to give him enough medicine that it hurt but not enough to heal. He rose on tiptoe and prepared to pour the rest down his friend's mouth. At the last second though, he paused.
"Armin." Eren ordered. "Get rid of the gold."
The second batch he'd summoned dissolved instantly. The last thing Eren wanted was to leave any lying around for Irwin.
That was it; that was better. Think about Irwin: hovering outside, just as sick as Armin but all from his own doing—greedy and scheming. Eren grit his teeth and clutched at that anger. He let it surge through him freely.
"Armin? We're going on a trip." His friend didn't answer. His eyes were glued to the bottle that Eren was offering and he noticed, far in the back, that the book Armin had summoned was turning to dust, coating the chicken in a grey film. "You're going to drink this and then follow me, alright?"
"Follow," Armin murmured. His voice creaked. "Follow Friend?"
"Yes."
Armin nodded and Eren tossed the medicine, bottle and all, into his mouth.
The effect was instantaneous, as it had always been. One moment Armin's girth was rumbling only like something upset—a minor sickness—the next it bulged outward with a violence that had Eren skittering away. He felt Petra and Annie crying out but their tiny voices were drowned in Armin's own scream, his voice silencing whatever talk had been going on outside. His arms pulled inwards, his torso dipped, and just when it looked like he might explode Irwin slammed into the room.
"Shifter—" he started and that's when Armin vomited a good portion of the food he'd eaten.
Eren didn't have time to appreciate the image of Irwin covered in a spirit's half-digested meal. With a shout of, "Run!" he scooped Annie and Petra close to his chest, dodging two gawkers and heading anywhere that wasn't here. Behind him Eren could hear the slap of Armin's body waddling behind him as well as the rage-filled scream that tore from Irwin's mouth. Next came a blast wave of magic, like a miniature earthquake. Eren felt the bindings around his heart tighten like they were trying to draw him back but he surged forward. Another blast hit and actually succeeded in propelling him out the nearest door. Eren felt at least one more before he rounded the corner.
Good. Let Irwin waste as much magic as he wanted.
Eren ran and it took his muddled mind too long to realize he wasn't heading in any useful direction. He'd taken the easiest route—down—but one that didn't seem to be leading anywhere near the boiler room. No, he couldn't even be sure that Hanji would have gone back there. He needed to get outside and find wherever she'd stashed that boat.
With the sounds of Armin vomiting behind him Eren took Annie's squeaky advice and made a left.
The stairs led him deeper into the bathhouse. The heat was increasing and at first Eren was hopeful that he'd stumbled across the kitchens—he could find his way out from there—but he didn't find anything beyond sweating walls and the occasional crate. Then, as quickly as it had gotten warm, the temperature dropped. The walls changed from a milky white to grey, then to black… though maybe that was only because the light itself was fading. The air was dreadfully cool now and slightly damp. Eren realized with a claustrophobic horror that there were no more doors down here. The floor beneath his feet had made way to earth and there was nothing but tunnel up ahead.
He couldn't turn around though. Behind him Armin was screaming and retching. Eren didn't think he'd hurt him but half-crazed with pain he couldn't be sure. With only one option ahead of him Eren ducked his head and dug in his heels.
He'd run maybe another ten yards when he heard it: a far more violent retching than what had come before. The sound was followed by a tumble and a painful cry. With his legs still pumping him forward Eren turned and saw Armin—much smaller now—jumping over a frog spirit that he'd spat out onto the ground. The poor guy was covered in black, sticky bile, hunched in on himself in terror. For all that though he only appeared to be stunned. He even managed to catch Eren's eye before they pulled completely apart.
"Hey," he croaked at them, to which Eren just ran faster.
The tunnel seemed to go on forever with time existing only in Armin's periodic retching. Twice more Eren heard the yelp of a spirit being vomited back into the world and each time he looked back Armin was that much closer to his original size. That alone was fiercely reassuring—Dot's medicine was working, he was fixing things—but there was still a haze around Armin's eyes and his mouth still hung open, gasping. There was little use in stopping now, so Eren ran.
It was when he turned once more, waiting for that fourth spirit, Moblit, to be released that Eren crashed shoulder first into a dirt wall. Dead end. There was so little light down there but Eren had just enough to find the trapdoor hidden overhead. Thrumming with adrenaline he was able to jump, throw open the latch, and haul himself up into an equally dark room, all before Armin appeared beneath him.
His friend was all the way back to his original size now, heaving and clutching at where a human's knees would be. Armin looked exhausted and hardly thinking about it, Eren extended his hand to help him up. It wasn't bitten off or anything and Armin was surprisingly light. The only consequence was an excellent one. With a great heave Eren's friend was sitting beside him, leg-to-leg and smiling.
"Better?" Eren asked.
Armin's smile dropped.
Eren would realize later that his voice had been the cue. A trapdoor slamming open? Startling, but not so different from, say, the normal creaks that sound in an age-old barn. Such a noise could easily be overlooked. But a voice?
A voice meant food.
How had Eren not heard the moans? Smelled the awful stench? Armin's breathing, his own blood pounding… those weren't enough to cover it all. Eren heard it now though. It was the gruntle overlap of multiple, bestial voices; increasing in volume every moment, all of them hungry.
Eren's heart stopped when in the feeble light emitting from the tunnel a titan came into view. Or rather, its head did. Eren could just make out its blunted fingers spread into the dirt, gripping tight as it lowered itself to their level. The titan, a male, had a beard that sported crusting blood as well as a host of crawling things. Their movements made the hair pulse in and out like a wave, pulling against sand. But everything was dry here—Eren's throat, his eyes. Only Armin was sobbing, great gulping cries as the titan moved to snap him up.
Eren was numb for so much of it and it was so very, unfathomably long. At agonizing length he felt every hot pant of air as the other titans closed in, heard every gleeful groan they gave as the smell of flesh hit their noses, felt his own hands leaving claw-shaped bruises on his thighs. It was only when Eren saw the contrast of Armin's black body against the titan's sickeningly pink tongue that he was able to move.
He was shrieking, "no, no, no" but Eren didn't know it. His ears were filled with Armin's screams… and they were certainly his own. Despite the fact that they came through Moblit's voice there was nothing but Armin's terror there. That terror pierced Eren. It was a distilled version of the fear he'd felt for Corporal, no longer spread over so many hours, and it was worse than any mortal wound. Literally, for Eren didn't feel the snap as a titan behind him bit straight through his leg. He noticed only that he couldn't run anymore, so he crawled.
It shouldn't have been possible—reaching Armin like that. But Eren did. He left a trail of blood as thick as his chest and bits of tissue as his mangled leg was dragged across the dirt… but Eren made it. With Armin already half way down the titan's throat he dove in after him, grasping the black hand and tossing his friend straight out of the maw. Armin landed on his knees, stunned. Staring at him. Eren reached out.
"Armin—" he gasped and then the titan's mouth clamped shut.
Eren felt sick all over, hot with a terrible fever. The tongue he sat on was soaked in saliva and that wetness easing into this remaining leg was hell, a reminder that there were different ways to drown. Eren only realized he'd lost his arm as well when his left hand found the stump. He couldn't see the blood he'd coated his hand with but he could smell it.
His right arm.
Hadn't there been friends on that shoulder?
"Petra." Eren gasped. He was sliding backwards. "Annie."
Both gone then. And Armin? Eren couldn't see past the titan's teeth. There was nothing but darkness here and the thrumming of a starved tongue beneath him. Had he run? Please, let him have run.
Eren thought of his family as the wetness carried him downward. They were somewhere in this barn weren't they? They were here and the last thing he could think to do was to pray, painfully, that they wouldn't be the ones to eat his friend.
But of course. From behind the teeth came a spirit's cry and Eren was swallowed, knowing that his prayer had gone unanswered.