Eren awoke to water.

The result was him shouting with a voice that didn't work yet and stumbling to his feet on wobbly legs. He felt it then: grass beneath his feet. Not water. Grass. Eren sucked in wheezy breaths, straining his eyes until he could see the individual blades, until the grass was no longer one endless, green sea. He saw a ladybug and then a grasshopper, leaping between his toes.

Eren blinked woozily. Hadn't he been wearing his shoes?

He had, he knew he had, even now memories of poison and soot-balls and reclaiming his clothes were flooding back into Eren's mind. He staggered under the weight but then forced his head to turn that agonizing inch until he could see his other foot. There was a shoe on that one. One sneaker.

What had happened to the other?

"Lost down a titans throat," someone said. Eren stumbled and turned to find Armin, Annie, and Petra all gathered behind him. It was Annie who had spoken, head between her knees and one hand still raised from when she'd summoned water to wake him. Eren touched his damp shirt. Annie wearily lifted her head.

"Consider the debt repaid," she said. "A life for a life. Do you have any idea how much magic it takes to regrow limbs?" Having said her piece Annie went white as milk and hunched forward again. Eren copied her heaving.

Life? Limbs?

"What?"

Petra raced from one patient to the other. Gripping Eren's shoulders she guided him back onto the cool, scratchy grass. He could feel it beneath his legs, on one bare foot. Solid. Eren found a small scrap of fabric missing from the bottom of his shorts, a tear resembling teeth, and he plucked at it. Petra stilled his hand.

"We came up into the barn," she said. Then she shook her head. "I should have realized where that tunnel led. Oh I should have… By the time I did figure it out…" Petra crushed Eren's left knee in a fierce grip. "You lost this leg almost immediately. And then threw yourself in after that spirit—stupid boy! Annie and I escaped right before, titans don't seem to take much interest in animals, and it's not like I was any use to you as a bird. I swear. Otherwise I would have never…" She gulped. Petra rang his knee like a rag and Eren marveled that he could feel it; the bite of her nails against bone. "By the time Annie had transformed us back you'd already been… you'd been… you stupid, stupid boy. Annie had to gut that beast to get you out! Acid burns, two limbs missing… We didn't think… I didn't have time to think. I held them off while you three got out. I tried." Petra lifted the sword that Annie had clearly summoned for her. It was similar to Corporal's and she touched the square end in a daze. Something like pride was trying to find room on her face and failing.

"I tried," she repeated. "I slashed one across the neck…"

"My mom?" Eren asked, because isn't that how things worked? Petra stared at him.

"What?" she whispered.

"My dad then? Mikasa?" The last name came out strangled and Petra's eyes widened.

"Noooo. No, no, no. I know your family's titan forms—I didn't touch them! They're fine. Well… they're still in the barn. I promise you. Okay?"

"… Okay."

Eren fell forward. Petra's arms weren't Hanji's, and they certainly weren't his family's, but they did for now.

In time Annie's shadow fell over them both. Her color was better but sweat still dotted along her hairline and there was a shaking in her chest.

"Dusk is getting closer," she said. "Console your friend. Then we need to keep going." Her eyes landed on Eren's pale limbs. "How do they feel?"

He took a long, pollen filled breath and then nodded. "Like I never lost them," and to demonstrate Eren used his right arm to hoist himself back up onto his left leg. He trembled but that was only from the continued shock of it all. He managed to catch himself on Annie's shoulder and press a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She stiffened only a little.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "And Petra…"

She was picking dried blood off her sword with a thumbnail. Or trying to. The blood was evaporating into a faint mist as quickly as she chased it. It looked just like the steam that had poured off Eren when he'd first arrived and now he breathed it back in, straightening.

"Thanks."

Petra mustered up a smile. "Of course…but if you ever do something like that again I'll slice you in two."

"I'll help," Annie said and shoved him towards Armin.

Wobbling across the field Eren thought that they might someday have to keep that promise because if ever there came a time when Armin, or anyone else was again in danger, he would throw himself into the jaws—or the sea—without hesitation. That was a promise of his own.

For now though, Eren stopped by Armin's huddled form, plopping down next to him, and the relief of seeing him whole, being close enough to touch him… it was almost painful in its intensity. He'd gone from three, his parents and an added Mikasa, but now there was also a Hanji, a Connie and a Sasha, a Jean and a Marco, an Annie and a Petra, and a Corporal… Corporal who held so much of Eren now, even the parts of his heart that Irwin had wormed his way through. Sometimes Eren felt like he was being pulled in numerous, important directions all at the same time. Still. He wanted to reassure Armin, trembling and avoiding his gaze, that for all of that there was still a part left over for him. A huge part. Surely just knowing that would help?

But what came out was: "Friendship sort of sucks, huh?"

Eren immediately winced. "No," he backpedaled. "I didn't mean… It's just… it's hard, don't you think?"

It was. He didn't need Armin to confirm that. Eren had lived it. But he still let his friend work through it himself, silent except for the brushing sound his body made against stray leaves. Eventually, after a very long moment Armin looked up. His eyes were glassy.

"You nearly…" Armin stopped. Choked. "I would rather die than be a burden," he whispered.

Eren thrust out his hand. "You're not," he promised and together they rose.

The walk back was made entirely in silence. What did someone say after an experience like that? It was clear that Petra was still rattled—keeping an ever-present fist resting on the hilt of her sword—and Annie was exhausted. They kept to the outskirts of the island in the hopes of avoiding Irwin's gaze and by the time they'd cleared the field of flowers Annie was listing slightly to the left, like a drunk finally stumbling out of the tavern. Finally, with a defeated sigh she used a last burst of magic to turn herself and Petra back into animals, the transformation taking nearly twice as long as before. They both allowed Eren to scoop them onto his shoulder without fuss.

He made the transfer as carefully as he could given that one hand was still occupied. Armin hadn't said a word since they'd started their walk but he hadn't let go of Eren either.

Walking as straight as he could, Armin trailing behind him… if it hadn't been for the distinctive texture of the spirit's hand Eren might have thought he was walking hand-in-hand with Mikasa.

The thought made something burn in the back of his throat.

So Eren concentrated on reaching that tree, then that collection of rocks, then the ornate fencing that surrounded the bathhouse. When his mind still wandered too much Eren closed his eyes and focused on the continued, reassuring feel of grass beneath his feet. Both feet now—he'd tossed his other sneaker aside. It had admittedly taken some effort but he knew it was stupid walking around with just one shoe and the other was definitely lost.

Eaten.

Eren shivered under the sun.

"Almost there, you guys," he said. And they were. Curving around the left side of the bathhouse, keeping to the shadows when they could, Eren was now able to make out the smoke spilling from the pipes above. He wondered what Sasha and Connie were feeding the boiler for, now that Armin wasn't crazed and demanding individual hospitality anymore. Not that it mattered. This was probably the one time everyone could do pretty much as they pleased in the bathhouse; no doubt Irwin had bigger worries.

With the smoke behind them the forest well and truly came into view… as did the water. Eren felt his legs automatically slowing, resistant at getting any closer. He might have stopped completely if a shout hadn't come just then.

"Human!"

Hanji, and she wasn't alone.

There, bobbing against one of the bathhouse's many ledges was a tiny, circular boat. Stuffed inside were Hanji, Marco, and a pissed off looking Jean.

Hey, stupid!" Jean shouted when they'd gotten a bit closer. "We've been waiting an age, you little—oof!" Eren couldn't be sure but it looked as if Marco had knocked him one hard in the gut. He doubled, probably exaggerating (probably) and his head disappeared below the boat's side. Marco waved innocently.

It was Hanji who leaped back on land, running towards them. She skidded to a halt when she spotted Armin.

"You—" She spluttered.

"He's a friend," Eren said. They were right by the water now, tiny waves lapping against the foundation Eren stood on. He kind of wanted to take his hand back from Armin, maybe cross his arms tightly or even bite his nails like he hadn't done since he was a toddler, but he squashed both impulses. Instead he squeezed Armin's fingers as he edged away.

Hanji had both her hands free and thus was able to grip her hair to her heart's content. "That's him!" She cried.

"Yeah, Hanji, I know. He was sick but he's better now."

"Oh really?" She swung her pointer finger out like a sword. "Sick huh? He ate Moblit!"

"Well… yeah. But—"

As if on cue Eren felt Armin stiffening behind him. At first he thought it was just another bout of guilt at Hanji's—accurate—accusation, but then he heard a familiar rumble. Eren turned and saw the black of Armin's lower body rippling unpleasantly. A second later he expelled a massive belch… along with one frog. Moblit went flying a good five feet and landed in the shallow water near the boat. For one horrible moment he lay entirely motionless, facedown with his limbs sinking. Then he jerked, spluttering upward with a cry.

"Oh." He blinked at the crowd around him. "Hi, everybody."

"Alright." Jean muttered. "What the hell is going on."

"I'm not entirely sure…" Moblit was cut off as Hanji splashed in after him, unheeding of her pants now soaked to the knee. She picked the frog up under his arms and, to everyone's shock, planted a big fat kiss on the middle of his forehead.

"Hanji!" He croaked.

"You got eaten!" She countered and sort of half cradled half shook him, like a slightly offbeat mother. "Don't you ever get eaten again, you hear me? Honestly, Moblit, what were you thinking!" She continued to berate the stunned spirit who took it all amazingly well, just hanging limp and expelling little bits of water every now and then.

Eren saddled a little closer to Armin. "Looks like you're off the hook," he said. Armin, of course, was silent. The voice he'd stolen was gone but he tugged on a stray lock of hair, looking hopeful. Eren pulled Armin closer to his victim and himself closer to the water.

"Alright, Moblit?" He asked.

Moblit looked fine. A little squished from Hanji maybe but he was alert and had all his limbs intact (which was a hell of a lot more than Eren would have been able to say just a half hour before). He gently reached up to pat Annie and Petra's heads as Moblit smiled.

"Human!" He called up. "Ah… what…what happened?" His domed brows came together in puzzlement and pressed as he was against Hanji's chest, he clutched spastically at the front of her shirt. For all that though Moblit stared right at Armin, obviously not recognizing him. Eren felt his breath loosening.

"Things got… really crazy," he admitted. "So I'm glad you're okay." If it were possible Moblit's smile widened even further. He didn't look anything like the stiff, neutral frog who'd yelled at them about cleaning the floor. Eren smiled back. "I'll explain things to you later. Pinkie promise, but now if you're feeling up to it I've got a job for you."

"Yes, sir!" Moblit cried and he hopped out of Hanji's arms. He stared at Eren, enthusiastically treading water.

"Head back to the bathhouse and get Krista, okay? If you can't find her get one of the others." Eren didn't need to clarify who the "others" were. "Tell her I had a dream and that I got the message." Eren paused, one hand going to his cheek. "My friends are all safe—" for now "—and we'll be back really soon—" I hope. "So get ready."

Moblit's eyes were wide and quivering. "Ready for what?"

Eren didn't know. Something big.

"Just keep a low profile," he said.

Reading both the hesitation and the fear in Eren's face Moblit simply nodded. With a quick dive he swam off. He looked back only once, to which Eren gave a friendly salute. The rest of them watched Moblit gliding beneath the clear surface, his blue tunic rippling like a wave.

"Seriously," Jean said when he'd gone. "What the hell is happening around here?"

"I'll explain on the way." Annie gave a squeak in agreement and Jean's mouth dropped open, clearly just now spotting the mouse and bird on Eren's shoulder. Before he could protest any more though Hanji blew a kiss to the retreating Moblit and clamored back into the boat, brining an obscene amount of water with her. Marco settled onto a protesting Jean's lap, the sunlight creating pockets of shadow along his ravaged face. The rest of the boat was taken up by Connie's 3-DM gear. It left just the tinniest bubble for Eren and his riders to crawl into.

Filling that space wasn't quite as hard as he'd thought it would be. Eren's stomach was churning and the small of his back was sweating but Armin floated to the boat's edge and beckoned him on. That support was enough and even if it hadn't been Eren kept a specific image of Corporal fixed in his mind: the fall from Irwin's office, with his hands embedded in Corporal's mane and the long forgotten feeling of water as a gentle and exhilarating experience. Eren had loved the water again in that moment and even if that moment was gone—even if Corporal was too far away—he could still pretend that the love was still there, couldn't he?

Trying to maintain his smile Eren stepped into the boat and together they shoved off.

Far back and deep below, Corporal was thinking of Eren even as Eren was thinking of him.

Or rather… he was dreaming. Dreaming of a small, drowning boy.

Corporal was trying to reach him.

He'd reverted back to his human form not long after Eren and the others had left. Sasha had tucked the blanket around him properly this time as Connie and the soot-balls checked for any lasting fever. There was none. Even so, both spirits decided to keep the boiler running and the room as warm as possible. Besides, there was little sense in turning it off now. Night was approaching and whether it would prove to be a normal time of baths and meals, or something else entirely, they intended to be prepared.

The friend of their friend was asleep on their floor and Sasha and Connie both kept as close an eye on him as they could. Cleaning was the easiest excuse, so they picked up the spilled contents of their drawers as well as the boards from the broken ceiling, all the while casting glances at the still-stone form. He moved only once. Maybe twenty minutes into their vigil—right around the time Eren's leg was being scooped between the teeth of a titan—Corporal bucked up off his matt with a groan that, had he been awake, might have been a scream. Connie wanted to call someone. Sasha asked who the hell were they supposed to call. So they just ended up holding him down on their own as the soot-balls cooed soothingly in the background. The Corporal's left leg and right arm were particularly restless but eventually all of him settled again. He slept deeply for another half hour or so.

Then while gathering coal Connie felt the press of metal against the back of his neck.

"Man," Connie squeaked. "There is no need for that."

"Boiler man." Corporal said and if anything Connie looked offended at the title. Sasha finally realized that something exciting was going on below and she scrambled down from her perch, making enough noise to drown out the machinery around them. Maybe it was deliberate because her loud decent seemed to snap Corporal out of whatever daze he was in. With what might have been an apologetic glance he lowered his sword from Connie's neck.

"How the fuck did I get here?" He asked, pinching disgustedly at his bloodstained clothes.

"Funny story, that." Sasha dithered. "Long too. Ha! Biscuit?" She stuck a rumpled package under his nose.

Connie's mouth dropped open and Corporal's eyes narrowed. He took one threatening step forward.

"You're not distracting me with your food, Sasha." He growled. "How in all the fucking hells did I end up here? Where's—?" Corporal shut up fast when he noticed what was hanging around Sasha's neck. With a quick flick of his wrist he cut the rope cord she'd tied around the object's middle and it tumbled into his hand, despite her squawk of protest.

It was the seal. No doubt one of them had kicked it during all the chaos but a team of soot-balls had rediscovered it amongst the rubble. Sasha had claimed the pretty tool, proclaiming it a "trophy" of their victory. Now she pouted as Corporal manhandled it.

"Empty," he said, seemingly to himself. "Used up all the magic avoiding Irwin's damn paper… fucking useless now," and he tossed it over his shoulder. With a cry Sasha scrambled after it. Corporal turned back to Connie.

"You took it off me while I was asleep?"

Connie's eyes bulged. "No!"

"Did you drag me down here?"

"No, no, no, the human—"

Connie froze.

In short, he shut the hell up at the look that crossed Corporals' face. Far from the most expressive of spirits, it would have nevertheless taken a blind man to miss what he was currently thinking about: Eren. Memories came back… as did phantom pains; ones that Corporal would swear hadn't been his own. Behind him Sasha froze in the act of picking the seal up, sensing the change in the air, and all the little soot-balls crowded together in one large, comforting bundle. Connie eased away from the tensing spirit until Corporal's head shot back up and Connie had no choice but to freeze once more. The Corporal's eyes were twin, fiery suns in a very pale face.

"Where is he?" Corporal said. Completely monotone. Filled with rage.

So Connie told him. In a squeaky little voice worthy of a mouse he dutifully parroted all that he'd missed, where Eren had gone, and exactly what he intended to do.

And when he was done Connie got the hell out of Corporal's way.