"Schizophrenia."
Armin and Annie thought about the word that passed Doctor Hanji's lips. Armin already knew that the incurable disease could be the explanation for Annie's strange behavior (Hanji actually taught him this in his psychology class with her). From what he learned, schizophrenia was a mental disorder that caused the person to be caught in between reality and fantasy. Symptoms included hallucinations, bizarre or violent behavior, social withdrawal, and the inability to concentrate or sleep. No one really knows the cause of the illness or how to treat it exactly.
Besides locking them up in an asylum and feeding them useless drugs.
Armin glanced at Annie, who looked at Hanji like she was the one with schizophrenia. Another thing he learned about schizophrenics was to never tell them they were crazy or that the situations they created weren't real—it only worsens their condition and no matter what, they won't believe you.
"The good news though," Hanji continued on before Annie could break one of her limbs, "is that you're mature enough to make reasonable decisions for yourself so I don't think putting you in the Psych Ward is necessary."
"You're damn right," Annie muttered under her breath, low enough for Hanji to pass by without hearing but clear enough for Armin to glare at her rudeness.
"But I am gonna have you take some different pills to see which one is the best at killing off the Female Titan." Her honey colored eyes widened dangerously behind her thick glasses. "We'll be the ones devouring her whole."
He felt Annie's hand relax a bit in his grasp under the desk at Hanji's exclamation. His eyes glanced at his love and then back at the doctor. Was that how Hanji became so successful in her career? She could easily relate to almost anyone, especially ones with mental disorders, which made her seem trustworthy and dependable, even self-isolated beings like Annie Leonhart.
"To my understanding, you're living with Mr. Arlert here, which I think is a safe and healthy environment for you." Hanji shuffled some papers around on her cluttered desk. "I also have Mr. Arlert's—" She suddenly stuck out her tongue and gagged. "Ugh, I hate acting all professional." And with that, she ran a hand through her wavy hair, undid two buttons on her lab coat, and leaned back in her chair. Armin couldn't help but to smirk—there was the Hanji he knew.
"I also have Armin's granddad as a backup as well as your father, but…" The scientist peered at Annie. "I have very little information about him. Annie, I need to know more—talk to him preferably."
"No." Annie frowned, tensing up again. "That's what she wants. She wants me to go back to my father. She knows I don't like it there and will do anything to get me back. And besides…I've tried already."
"You've tried speaking with your father?"
"The Female Titan wanted me to go to my father's house, but I only had enough nerve to visit Rightful Ruler. I thought he would be there. Turns out he wasn't and—" she glanced at her audience "—well, you know the rest."
"I'm trying to figure out how the Female Titan got to you," Hanji said. "Maybe she came from your dad?"
Armin took his hand and began to stroke Annie's hand that intertwined with his right one while he studied her facial features. She pondered Hanji's suggestion before shrugging her shoulders and replying, "I always thought she followed me from my mother's womb, that she's always been with me."
Hanji nodded. "That's a possibility."
Annie nodded in return. Then Armin noticed a slight grin curve upon her lips. He knew that Annie felt like Hanji and Armin were on her side, believing her when she said that there was someone else inside her. Armin felt like there was something inside her, something that latched onto her when she was a child, her mind completely shattered by her father's cruel ways.
His eyebrows upturned a little when the thought of Annie never being able to live a normal life crossed his brain. Schizophrenia was a long-term disease that required the patient to take many small pills everyday and go to the Psych Ward every now and then to talk to a doctor about her progress.
And if she wasn't doing well, then she'd have to stay in a cell behind a locked door with minimal contact from her loved ones.
They eventually left the hospital with another appointment scheduled for next month and a small orange bottle filled with tiny blue tablets for Annie to try.
It was now March so the cool wind was gentle and small birds chirped excitedly. Melting piles of snow were shoved onto curbs, giving vehicles more space to drive but taking away room for people to walk. Even though Armin knew Annie was more than capable of handling herself physically and was much stronger than him, he still held her hand tightly as they sauntered about the slushy snow and hard cement.
Armin was going on about the psychology class Professor Hanji taught last semester and the most interesting experience he had during that time when he felt himself come to an unexpected halt. His wide eyes snapped over to his hand, which Annie still had her grip on. The schizophrenic girl, however, was staring across the street at an empty alleyway. He then realized that they both knew that cold, dark alleyway; it held many memories and it made him think twice about all the things he and Annie had been through, looking at how far they've come.
He noticed Annie turn her head toward Springer's Café on their right. Her gaze lingered on the glass doors that stood a few feet from them. Nothing was exchanged between the two soulmates for quite some time before Annie finally broke the silence and said, "Let's go in."
Armin complied.
The café itself wasn't very busy—only around five people were present in the coffee shop. Armin hadn't been inside Springer's in such a long time that the overwhelming smell of caffeine drinks and freshly baked muffins nearly knocked him over. Low murmurs echoed throughout the shop as people spoke quietly amongst themselves, similar to the interior of a library. The quiet hum of active coffee machines could be heard coming from the back, where he hoped Sasha or Connie was also in the back keeping an eye on it.
Sasha and Connie, thought Armin. Eren and Mikasa.
Just as he remembered those names, he spotted his best friends, who he hadn't seen in a month, sitting at their usual table towards the center of the shop. He watched the brunet turn his head in his direction and his green eyes light up in enthusiasm. The raven-haired girl did the same, but she surprisingly stood up first to greet him, a kind smile spreading over her small features.
The next thing he knew Eren and Mikasa were nearly tackling him to the ground with bone-crushing hugs and exclamations of joy.
A whole month without much contact from his childhood friends had been, by far, the longest the trio had gone through without seeing each other. Their warm embraces and thankful smiles brought back wonderful memories for Armin. They stood there in each other's arms for a while, laughing and grinning and squeezing. As soon as the dreamer broke away from Eren and Mikasa's grasp, he was tackled again by another pair of arms—this time it was Sasha and Connie.
The odd duo screamed his name as Connie faked tears of happiness and Sasha lifted him high in the air, her arms around his torso, his spine slowly breaking. Armin wasn't as close to these two as he was with Eren and Mikasa, but still felt the love they gave him and missed them terribly.
Sasha eventually put him back down and that's when the questions came at him like bullets. "Where have you been?" "How've you been?" "Is Annie alright?" "Did you want coffee? Cause, like, the coffee machine is broken."
One word stuck out the most among the series of questions being thrown at him. Armin tried to peek over Connie's shaven head to see Annie standing off to the side, staring at his friends with an emotionless look on her face. He grinned and then glanced back at his close companions.
"I've been here all along; I haven't gone anywhere. I'm just fine, thanks. I'm great actually—never been better. And Annie…well…" His hand reached pass Connie and Sasha and out to take Annie's snow white one, pulling her over to his side. "She's going to be okay." The two blondes gazed at each other, Armin squeezing her hand reassuringly before turning back to Connie. "What did you do to the coffee machine?"
The boy's smiling face quickly changed into one of pure shock: his jaw dropped open, his golden eyes widened, his barely visible eyebrows pointed downward. "Why do you always assume it was me?" he exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, proving his guiltiness. Everyone laughed at his reaction (even Annie smirked a little).
Just then, Armin felt the door behind him bump against his back, causing him to stumble forward a bit—without Annie's iron grip on his hand, he probably would've fallen flat on his face. The group glanced at the entrance and recognized two more faces looking back at them.
"Jeanie!" Sasha and Connie shouted in unison, their arms spread wide, their lips pulled back into goofy grins.
At the sight, Jean rolled his eyes with an annoyed groan. He tried to spin around and head back the way he came, but a hand grabbed his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. A snicker came from the owner of the hand as his familiar face peeked into the coffee shop.
"Oh, hey everyone!" greeted Marco Bott, continuing to push Jean into the room with his left hand, his smile wide. "What's up?"
While the rest of the group answered back thoughtfully, Armin could feel Annie's hand slowly stiffen in his grasp like she was suddenly very uncomfortable. He looked down at her, noticing that her wide eyes were set on Marco's face—or what was left of it anyway.
A few uneven scars crisscrossed all over the right side of his freckled face, his upper lip a little swollen still, his eyebrow ripped down the middle. Some of his freckles were placed awkwardly—some were overlapping each other—but that was to be expected when all the doctors could do was try to sew his skin back together. His right arm was still in a sling but, according to Marco himself, the several shattered bones in his arm were getting better every day.
Now, as everyone but Armin, Annie, and Marco strolled further into the shop whilst chatting among themselves, the knowledgeable dreamer knew what the past runaway was thinking. She was the cause of this injured man's pain and suffering and long road to recovery. Instead of hiding her emotions behind her usual impassive glare, she let her guilt widen her eyes and tremble her lips.
Marco finally glanced down at her. "You must be Annie. It's nice to finally meet you." He shook her hand with his free one. "Armin talks about you all the time. I was wondering the other day when Jean and I would get to see you!"
He gave a friendly laugh, but neither Annie nor Armin returned the gesture. The blond boy remembered Marco saying that he didn't know who caused such violent harm on him that night—it was too dark for him to tell so that's why he doesn't recognize Annie at all. Armin gave her one last squeeze before releasing her hand. He then watched Marco's damaged face attempt to twist in confusion when he heard the quiet but guilty words escape Annie: "I'm sorry."
It took a while but eventually Marco's left eye widened in realization, taking a step backwards. Armin witnessed the scene unfold before him: his love stood still, peering at her combat boots, and his friend stared at her, now knowing that she was the perpetrator of the pain he was sent through all those months ago.
She whispered her apology again, nothing more, nothing less. Marco stared some more. Armin noticed something change in the freckled boy. He glanced down at the sling that held his broken arm and then back to Annie. Another heavy moment passed by but, luckily and surprisingly, Marco walked up to her, wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, and offered her a tight hug.
"That's okay," he replied with a humble grin, a couple stitches shifting along with his lips.