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Chapter Text

The light was utterly blinding, replacing the blurry image of Mikasa with nothing but a stinging white void. Eventually, even the pain faded, melting into itself and leaving only the lingering pressure on Eren’s lips. Then that went too, leaving Eren alone in the depths of nothingness. 

“I’m sorry.”

It was an impossible task to guess the amount of time that transpired while Eren was ripped away from all aspects of his own mind. Not in seconds, months or years. Here, there was no time, just a black sea that consumed even the faintest thought in roiling fog, leaving him bare of everything he once was.

When the light returned, it sliced through his tightly shut eyelids, bathing his vision in a sea of red. 

For the light to hurt his eyes like this… 

I must have a fever. 

Eren groaned, throwing a limp hand over his eyes. He hated being sick, hated it more than anything else. He couldn’t go outside, couldn’t see Mikasa or Armin, or even look at anything too bright. When he was sick, he couldn't do anything, and was trapped in his bed like it was a cage. Usually he tried to hide it, his illness, but it must’ve been bad enough this time for his father to confine him to bed rest. 

“Even If you saw Mikasa and Armin, you’d just spread the plague to them as well. Then they’d be sick too. Is that what you want, Eren?” His father’s words floated back to him. 

His eyes hurt.

“ Mom, can you shut the curtains please? The light’s hurting my eyes.” 

“...Mom?”

But the sunlight hammered on his face relentlessly. Eren groaned, turning on his front to hide from the piercing rays. Better. Much better. The soft wet grass tickled his face, but it was better than a headache over his already foggy head. 

Why is there grass in my bed? He wondered briefly, before that thought too was taken by the black sea, and Eren slipped back into unconsciousness. 

He awoke several times with tears streaming from his eyes, gasping for breath. The memories- the horrific images that made him cry were just out of reach. Taunting him. If he opened his eyes at least he could focus on the pain of the light and not on the blurry wastes of blood that were laid in wait for him to fall back asleep.

So he opened them, and saw muddy grass underneath his face. 

Oh. 

It all started to flood black- all the death. Image after image of the rumbling flashed through his mind, the horrific indiscriminate genocide he had wanted so badly. 

So, so badly. More than anything.

And it had felt good , that was the worst part, it had felt so good to lay waste to all his enemies, to create the empty world he dreamed of so long ago. Freedom. It had been a perfect plan, and he knew he would succeed. Had succeeded. Shit, his head was a mess. And the strangest thing is that he didn’t even want it anymore. Of course, he knew it’d happen, and that he’d regret it. But he’d done it anyway, and now Mikasa and Armin would live long lives as heroes without him, safe from any external threat. Titans were gone. 

Was this death? 

If it was, then why did he feel so…

“Eren!” The voice sounded an awful lot like Mikasa. He rolled over onto his back, taking in the sight of hundreds of giant trees reaching for the sun. If he was dead, and therefore this was hell, then it wasn’t unreasonable for a devil with Mikasa’s voice to come and torment him. Mikasa… would she be wearing the scarf? She wore it when he saw her last. The last time I'll ever see her, he reminded himself. 

A swift kick to his shoulder brought him into reality. Looming over him was a very angry-looking Mikasa- red scarf and all. Despite it all, he allowed himself a small smile. 

What does it matter if she’s a hallucination or a devil? At least I get to see her again. 

“Eren!” She shouted at him, louder this time, and kicked his shoulder again. 

It…hurt? 

“I know you’re not real.” Eren got out, muttering up at her. “However much I wish you were.”

To his surprise, the devil pretending to be Mikasa knelt down by his side, and crumpled into tears. Eren couldn’t help but to reach an arm out, just to hold her face. Hell, she was beautiful. He’d always thought so, but now… he was transfixed. Just as he had been when she sliced her blade through his neck, and he’d opened his eyes to see her one last time. 

She didn’t seem like a devil.

 Then it hit him. 

I’m in hell, and if this is really Mikasa, then…

“Armin!” Mikasa yelled, “Armin, Eren is here, did you hear what Ymir-”

“Eren!” Armin’s face swum into vision above him as well, tearing up.

I failed. I didn’t see far enough. 

“You were supposed to live long lives.” Was all Eren managed to choke out. 

The two exchanged confused glances.

“Eren… we aren’t dead. And you aren’t either.” A teary Armin responded, leaning over him. He offered his brother a hand, and Eren took it.

“Not… dead? But- Mikasa-” Eren touched his lips in bafflement, sitting up. Mikasa’s expression was sombre.

“Eren,” she began, “Ymir was freed by me. She offered you what you wanted, as a parting gift, and now we’re here.”

“What.. what did I ask for?”

“You really don’t remember?” Armin queried.

“No. I can't- I can’t see the future or the past anymore either.”

“You told her; ‘I just want to stay with Mikasa and Armin.’”

“I see.” Eren mused. 

Mikasa turned away, speaking quietly. 

“She offered you the chance to do it all again. To change what…comes to pass.”

“Huh? To change what… hm.” Eren looked down in confusion. 

“She said she’d give you ‘true freedom’.” Armin clarified.

True freedom. 

In other words… 

I could live it out, just like I imagined, in a cabin somewhere with Armin and Mikasa. Let it all happen. 

Mikasa’s voice echoed through his head. 

“To change what… comes to pass.” The rumbling. Ah. 

Eren reached out for Mikasa’s wrist, but she didn’t turn around. 

“I don’t know if it can be changed,” he said, “I can’t see anything anymore.”

Mikasa bristled, turning her head to look down on Eren. 

“We couldn’t see shit, and we stopped you.” 

“We might be able to stop it entirely.” Armin added. 

I craved it, I wanted it. To make the world look like how I imagined it. 

He thought about Armin plucking the shell out of the sea at his feet, while he could only see blood. 

“So you finally noticed it? It was at our feet the whole time. But you were always looking into the distance.”

Maybe that was the trouble. Always seeing too far ahead. I’m my own biggest problem. 

“If that’s what you want,” Eren started, his voice unsure, “I won’t stop you.”

“What do you want, Eren?” Armin asked. 

To stay with you and Mikasa. 

“I don’t know.” He said, surprising himself with the answer. 

Chapter Text

It was one hell of a mindfuck. 

Funny, since ‘hell’ was exactly where he deserved to be. Hah. 

Focus, idiot. 

One moment he had been breaking completely, knelt at Mikasa’s feet with Eren in her arms, and the next…

Well, the next moment, he was in the paths.

He might’ve still been screaming, he wasn’t sure. Someone was. But his tears fell into soft wet sand, and he looked up through blurred eyes to dancing lights in the sky. 

It’s not like it mattered. He still helped kill his best friend, believing in his delusion that Captain Levi and Mikasa would let him live after everything he did.

Everything we did , Armin thought, remembering now his words to Eren back when his brother reached out to him. “ Both of us are responsible for what happened.”

He thought about when they were children, and he would show Eren the book with the burning sands and freezing wastes- and the best one, the deep glittering ocean, stretching out so far it could cover the whole world. 

The whole world felt so small now that almost everyone in it was dead.

Almost everyone in it is dead. 

He had to live with it. He showed Eren the wonders across the sea in that damned book, he gave Eren the spark, he gave him a reason to fight, to destroy the rest of the world. 

More than anything, it gave him something to protect. But while Armin and Mikasa had been elated to finally see the ends of the earth, Eren had been… disappointed. Armin remembered it fondly, the memory tinged by pure joy and hope. That warm day was almost perfect- soft sand, cool salty breeze ruffling his hair. He almost hadn’t noticed Eren’s depression upon finding out that everything in the book was true. 

Almost. 

It was an insanity to think that one grim expression from Eren led to… to this. 

A genocide. 

But it did, Armin thought, and I’m responsible for it. 

His hands gripped further and his knees sunk deeper into the sand of the paths, and Mikasa’s voice rang out loud and clear, pulling him out of his brief reverie.

“Armin! It’s-” She grabbed his wrist, her hands now free. “Its Eren!” 

Eren?

Armin looked up, blinking to dispel his tears, panting heavily. Mikasa’s arms were empty, her shirt sleeves stained with blood, and she was staring in disbelief at a figure in the distance. 

It can’t be. 

The figure stood tall, his back to them both, deep in a conversation with what looked to be a young girl.

Mikasa was sprinting across the sand before Armin even got to his feet. It was only then that he recognised the figure far away- about a hundred metres- as his childhood best friend and brother, the man he’d just helped to murder, and for whom he had cried over his severed head. 

Eren. 

“Eren!” he yelled, echoing Mikasa, who was already far in front of him. He wondered if this is how it was always going to be: Eren in the distance and Mikasa catching up, while he was stuck behind, left in the dust. It was how it always had been after all, with the races up to the tree– the ones he had told Zeke about in these very paths. 

Well, one last chase. 

One last chance to pretend I could catch up with them. 

He ran faster, tripping over himself as Eren’s face began to swim into view. He looked as he did on the diplomatic trip to Marley; the last time they’d truly been together. Medium- length brown hair, bright green-blue eyes, even the way he stood- as if there was literally a weight on his shoulders. It was him alright. Unmistakably. Snatches of the conversation began to be audible, and Armin clung to the syllables as if they were scraps of gold. 

“...Stay with…Mikasa…”

“True freedom…”

As he drew close, Mikasa reached Eren, flinging herself at him in what was probably trying to be a hug but was closer to a tackle. Armin reached out a hand and the girl- Ymir- nodded her head as she faded away. 

He was barely two metres away when a bright white light pierced his skull, plunging him deep into the realm of unconsciousness. 

When he awoke, he felt utterly crushed. It was a normal thing, as a soldier, to dream of dead comrades happy and well, only to wake to the lonely reality of their absence. But this was unusually awful. To dream of Eren in the paths…

Something in his head nagged him to open his eyes, so he did. 

Next to him, sleeping peacefully on the damp dewy grass was his brother. Armin scrambled to his knees, shaking Eren’s sleeping form frantically. It couldn’t be possible- wasn’t possible- but there he was, whole and hale with a vaguely happy expression on his face. 

He was even snoring . 

“Eren?” 

There was no answer. 

This can’t be real. 

But as Armin inhaled the cold air, puffy eyes stinging and damp grass chilling his hands, he had to accept the sight before him was utterly real. Eren was alive. Asleep, but alive. 

“He won’t wake up.” Mikasa placed a hand on his shoulder firmly. She seemed oddly calm. But then again, she’d always been like this. Silently fine, while Armin broke down, and then she’d crash and burn. Ignoring the cold wet grass, she sat herself down next to him, leaning a little on Armin’s shoulder, and picked up Eren’s hand. “He’s been like this for a while. I’m glad you woke up.” Mikasa seemed unable to meet his eye, focussing instead on swirling comforting circles onto Eren’s palm with her thumb. 

“What- Mikasa, what just happened?” Armin asked, rubbing his eyes vigorously. 

“You don’t remember anything?”

“I know we were in the paths.” He hesitated for a second. “I couldn't get close enough to hear what was going on.”

Mikasa’s reply was quiet, grief and hope mingling in her voice. 

“Ymir wanted to give him a ‘parting gift’. He chose,” She sighed, “Freedom to change what comes to pass.”

“Freedom to change what comes to pass,” Armin muttered, “What else did he say?”

“Ymir said he could ‘do what he truly wanted this time’, without interruptions- whatever that means. And Eren said- Eren said he just wanted to stay with us.”

“Without interruptions?” Armin said. 

Interruptions? What would that be, then? His desire for the rumbling? His affections? 

Titan shifting powers?

Mikasa shrugged. 

Armin got to his feet.

“I need to figure out where we are, anyway.” Now he was looking, the area they were in wasn’t unfamiliar- a large grassy clearing in an even larger forest, trees towering above them. He was wearing scout uniform, but the familiar weight of his ODM gear was gone, leaving him no way of getting to the treetops as a vantage point. Maybe a lookout, as well, assess the ground they were on. Apart from the daytime sky and fluffy white clouds, there were no other clues as to their current place. 

Or time, he thought, remembering Mikasa’s words. Maybe they really had been sent back. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibilities, especially with the founder’s abilities to see time in a non linear way. It must've driven him mad. Not only because it would break one’s mind as simply as a titan snapped through bones, but knowing every action before you did it? Hell, having memories of every moment before it happens would certainly finish your sanity off. 

Focus, Armin. 

He began to stroll a little around the perimeter of the clearing. No signs of human life. 

Nothing but Mikasa and Eren. 

The time before Eren awoke passed excruciatingly slowly, with the most movement being an arm flung over his eyes. Eren sleeptalked a little, muttering the occasional “Mom?” or “I’m sorry” before drifting back into his sleep. Since they’d decided it was risky to travel without information, Armin sat with Mikasa until the sun set. 

After he awoke, Eren had seemed extremely confused, believing he was in hell at first. Despite everything that had happened, Armin still couldn't reconcile the idea of Eren being his enemy. No matter how hard he tried to look for the man who killed eighty percent of the world's population, all he saw was his brother, tired and confused, professing to not know what he wanted. 

“You.. don’t know?” Armin lowered his head. 

“I was supposed to be dead by now. I didn’t plan for this.” 

“I know.” Armin sighed. “But- Eren, I'm glad you’re alive.” He couldn't help but smile at the genocidal maniac as he professed it. It was true anyway- he was glad Eren was alive, and there was no use in denying that, even despite the sacrifices they'd all made to kill him and stop the rumbling. The sacrifices he’d allowed as Commander of the Survey Corps. Sasha. Hange. Daz. Samuel. Floch. 

It’s not like I'm exactly innocent, anyway. 

Eren’s look of surprise faded into sadness.

“I had it all worked out, you know,” He started, picking at the grass below him, “You were all going to be heroes who lived long lives, and Paradis would be peaceful for the rest of your lives. The world looked exactly how I wanted it.” 

Armin was silent. 

“But everything I did, it was for nothing in the end, wasn’t it, Armin?” 

Yes, he thought, but pointedly ignored the question. 

“We really can do things differently this time. We’ll find a way.”

“With what? I have nothing. No powers.” Eren threw his hands down in exasperation. “And Mikasa won’t even look at me. What am I supposed to do about that?” 

Armin raised his head, seeing her shadowy figure stomp about collecting firewood from dead trees around the edges of the clearing. 

“Don’t have another tantrum.” Armin warned. 

“She’s all I ever wanted,” Eren pleaded, an expression of absolute dejection written all over his face. “Now I have to watch her forget about me, and I know she hates me, and It would have all been better if I had just stayed dead -”

“Eren.” Armin forced his tone to be authoritative, calm. “It doesn't matter. This is real, this is the situation we’re in. You need to pull yourself together and decide what you want to do.”

It was strange sometimes, to open his mouth and hear Erwin’s words come out of it. 

Damn it all. He’d know what to do if he was here, and I haven’t got a clue. 

He sighed, getting to his feet. His uniform was wet from the damp grass. He mumbled something about helping Mikasa, but Eren just stayed on the ground moping. 

Fine then. 

“Mikasa!” She was shaking, her back to him as she stiffly knelt to pick up another branch from the ground. “Are you collecting firewood?”

“Yes.” Her voice was carefully measured, dull and clipped. She shifted the jumble of damp sticks in her arms. “How’s- Eren?” She fixed him with that cold glare, the one she reserved for missions that would surely result in a high death toll, or the minutes immediately following a comrade’s death before the grief hit. 

“He’s- well… You should talk to him.” 

“I can’t! ” She whispered. 

“Mikasa, I know you’re not in a good state of mind right now-”

“Huh?” 

“The firewood,” he explained, “You got it off the ground. It’s wet; you can’t use it.” 

“Oh.” She looked at the armful of sodden wood she was holding. 

“Besides, even if we could get it to catch, the smoke from wet wood would give away where we are.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” Mikasa admitted, letting the bundle fall out of her arms onto the grass. 

“I'll sort it, some of it looks dry enough to use still.” Armin knelt down to sort the usable sticks out, while Mikasa stared ahead, one hand clutching the scarf around her neck. 

“If I talk to him again I don’t know whether I’ll strangle him or just…fall into him like nothing happened.” 

“I know.” 

This one is good, this one isn’t. If I break this damp section off, we can use this one. 

There was a moment of silence, broken only by splintering wood. 

“Armin,” She asked, “ You didn’t know the plan had changed, did you?”

Memories began to flash through his mind- Eren’s severed head, everything they’d suffered, climbing out of the steaming corpse of the colossal titan only to find that one of his friends had killed the other. And he knew it, he knew leaving Eren alive was a delusional plan, but if he didn’t believe it he couldn't have done what he had done. 

“No. I didn’t know. But I don’t blame you, either. It had to be done.” 

Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he’d believe it. 

Mikasa turned on her heel, and went to look for more wood for the fire. Soon enough, they had plenty, and just as well.  It was twilight now, the last embers of the sun still dying in the sky. Eren hadn’t moved- still sat glumly against a fallen log, staring into nothing. 

“Eren!” Armin called as Mikasa dumped the dry sticks in front of him. “Help us build this.” 

Eren reluctantly looked up, and began to construct a small nest-like mess of twigs. It was terrible- haphazard, chaotic, bound to collapse. 

“Are you a bird?” Mikasa joked. There was a lightness, an ease to her voice. 

How easily we all fall back into old habits. 

“No,” He scowled, “I’m trying.”

Armin glanced at Mikasa, the shock at her own comment marked on her face. 

“I forgot how bad you are at this,” Armin knelt down, “Let me do it.” 

“Do either of you have any idea when we are?” 

“I recognise the forest,” Mikasa said, “But I can’t place it. I think we’re inside the walls.”

“As for when we are,” Armin added, “It could be anytime. Even years ago.”

“There could be titans, even if we’re within the- the walls.” Eren mused. 

“I didn’t even think of that. Titans…” Armin said. 

“I don’t think I can shift anymore. And without ODM gear, we’re sitting ducks.” Eren pointed out. 

“You’re right. I can’t do anything against a Titan without ODM gear.” Mikasa said, pointedly staring at the ground. 

“Then we need to move at night.” Armin stated. 

Do I even have the authority to make orders anymore? If we’re back then somewhere, I’m not the commander. Or am I? But only for Mikasa? What about Eren? No, that doesn’t make sense. 

“Yeah. So we should go soon.” Mikasa said. Armin reached forwards into the now-orderly mass of sticks, managing to set it alight. It bloomed into flames fast, eating away the tinder on the inside first, then moving onto the larger fragments of wood before it stabilised into a crackling fire. The twilight around them settled into itself, the dark becoming denser as night fell fast onto them. It was almost unnoticeable until they looked away from the blossoming fire, and found that they couldn’t see anything in the darkness. 

As they all nudged closer to the warmth of the fire, sat side-by-side, Armin began to realise how insane the situation was. 

“Am I going mad?” He asked out loud. 

“I hope not.” Mikasa responded. “If you are, then I am as well.”

“We killed you. And now we’re sitting around the fire together. I don’t even know what year it is or where we even are!”

We killed you.

“Believe me, this isn’t what I planned.,” Eren glanced at Mikasa, “But- maybe it’s real. Maybe I've been given a second chance. And I can try and- try and stop everything.”

“Do you really believe that?” Mikasa asked.

“No. But I have to try.”

“You’ll die trying.” Mikasa snapped. 

“Don’t act like you’d care-”

“Hey!” Armin shouted. His protests went unheard as Mikasa stood up, grabbing Eren’s wrist.

“You think I wanted to do what I did? That I wanted to kill you?” Tears began streaming down her face as she yelled. “We didn’t want to be heroes , I don’t care if it avoided a war on Paradis! I didn’t want any of that!”

“That’s why I have to stop it all.”

“What’s your plan, then?” 

“I’ll do whatever you say. Just let me-”

“No!” Armin shouted, “No. You’re a suicidal maniac with no impulse control. We have no powers, no ODM gear, nothing but information. If you die again doing this, then everything happens the way it already did. We stop nothing . Do you understand? We have to be smart about this.”

Eren snatched his wrist back from Mikasa and rubbed his temples, sighing. “This would be easier if you hated me more.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Mikasa snapped back. “When are you going to get that into your head?”

“Never.” Eren said. “I can’t ask you to help me with this. Like Armin said, I have nothing to protect either of you with if it goes wrong.”

“Nothing to- Eren, you tried to kill us multiple times .” Armin said in disbelief. 

“I knew you’d live. I knew everything that would happen . I know nothing now.”

“Then we’ll do it like we used to,” Mikasa said, “The three of us against everything else.” 

Eren met her gaze. 

“Alright.”

“We need to go, we’re losing time.” Armin pointed out. 

If I can just figure out how to make a torch here… 

“Eren, tear some of your shirt. I need the fabric for the torches.”

After a moment of hesitation, Eren tore some of the extra fabric from his shirt, placing the strips in Armin’s outstretched hand. 

“Thanks.” He mumbled, holding some in his mouth while he tore it further, wrapping it in sections around the end of some sticks.

“These should work for a while if we use one at a time. They’ll burn fast, though.” He handed one torch each to Eren and Mikasa, lighting his own in the embers of the small fire they’d made. 

“Thanks.” Mikasa said quietly. Eren said nothing, giving him a stare of conviction. 

“We have no choice but to trust you,” Armin said, turning away and leading the group through the trees. “I hope you know that.”

“I won’t betray you.” Eren affirmed. 

You better not. Brother.

It was a while of travelling in silence, and both Armin and Mikasa’s torches had burned out by the time they saw lights in the distance. Eren’s torch was flickering out by the time they got close enough to the flights to confirm their hopes: a village, nestled deep in the forest. 

“I definitely know this place.” Mikasa murmured. Eren’s torch finally fizzled out in front of them, the glowing red embers barely visible. He dropped it on the ground. 

“We should stay quiet. Recon and return here fast.” Armin found himself giving orders, and almost to his surprise, both his comrades nodded, before slipping off into the shadows- Eren to the right and Mikasa to the left. Maybe it could be this simple, the three of them. 

Only until the bubble bursts. He thought. But what choice did he have? At least he could delude himself until then, pretend all was well. He shook his head. What was he doing?

Silence hung in a thick fog around the village, broken occasionally by the hoot of an owl or the bark of a dog. He crept closer to the first house, straight ahead of him. No candles were lit, but the house was far from abandoned- an axe was stuck in a tree stump outside the cobbled wall of the house. It must have been for splitting wood. 

A weapon, Armin thought, but if I go for it, I might wake anyone inside the house. 

He weighed the options for a minute, before deciding. 

I need that axe. 

He crept closer, sticking to the shadows and doing his best to avoid any twigs snapping underfoot. Reaching the axe was fairly easy, but pulling it from the wood without making a sound? He assessed his routes for escape. All good. His sweat made the grip on the handle difficult, and to make matters worse, he heard gentle snoring coming from the window above him.  

Great . 

Ripping the axe from the log in a single fluid motion, he held his breath. He crouched down, listening intently. No new noises- just snores. 

He exhaled, relieved. Creeping away from the house, axe in hand, Armin headed deeper into the village. It wasn’t long before he came across another structure- a pen this time, containing five or so horses standing half-asleep. 

This is how we escape, find the survey corps. 

He needed to find Eren and Mikasa, but there was no way they’d have turned back yet. He hefted the axe in his hand and continued, praying the horses wouldn’t spook at his presence. 

Luckily, they didn't, and the next house up ahead had candlelight spilling out the windows. He could even hear voices. It was risky, but…

I could find out when and where we are. 

Armin started to creep towards the house, planning every step. Sleeping people were dangerous enough; but awake? They’d certainly hear him if he made one misstep. And with an axe in his hand, they’d kill first and ask questions later. Still, it was the best opportunity so far. It wasn’t a small house, but rather large, full of lanterns and surrounded by pens, stables and fenced-off areas. It took him a while, but Armin managed to find a near-silent pathway to the window, crouching underneath and resting his back against the wall as the light spilled out onto the metal blade of his axe. 

His axe. Stealing came naturally to him now, huh? The voices floated over- an older woman and what was presumably her husband. 

“..You know I worry ever so much…”

“I know, dear, but she’ll be perfectly fine, she always has. It doesn’t seem a terribly dangerous-”

“You know she under-exaggerates!”

“Lisa, dear, it will be alright. Shall we head off to bed- I can make you some tea?” 

The woman began to sob. 

“I can’t- I just can’t sleep knowing she's off on that raid- On Marley no less! Who knows what they’d do if they caught her-” Her voice became muffled, presumably by a hug from her husband. 

“Artur, I just can’t bear it…”

“She’s a tough girl, you hear me? Sasha will be fine, you just see when she’s back tomorrow, hmm?”

Armin’s blood ran cold. 

Sasha. 

They were in Dauper, her home village. These were her parents. 

And as for the time…

Tonight was the night of the raid on Liberio. 

Chapter Text

It was far too easy to trust Eren. Every part of her wanted to lean on him, believe him, forgive him. As she instinctively took the left side of the village and Eren took the right, the inexorable truth slammed into her: she couldn’t help but love him.

I have to fight it. It mustn't win. 

She pulled the scarf closer around her neck in the darkness. It wasn’t too cold, despite the sun having long since sunk beneath the horizon. Summertime, maybe late spring. But the scarf was a welcome and familiar warmth.

Thank you for wrapping this scarf around me. 

With every step over the uneven, twig-littered ground she found herself fighting the urge to run straight back to Eren. Every step was arduous, painful even, not knowing where he was or what was happening to him.

I should hate him. Hate him more. 

She’d killed him, hadn’t she? You had to hate someone to kill them. If not for a good reason, for one that you could make yourself believe just long enough. No, that wasn’t right. 

If she did go back to Eren…

Half of her wanted to fall to her knees, hold him and never let go. She imagined her head on his chest, listening to the steady thump, thump of his heartbeat. And when she’d seen him, sleeping whole and hale, marked only with fading titan-shifter marks and a bad haircut, it was too late. Against her better judgement, she forgave him. If she could just hold him for a minute, a second, none of it would matter. Even if they were in a far-past time, they could run away together, find a cabin somewhere far away from everyone and just… let it all happen. Mikasa imagined them the way Eren had shown her in the paths; together. If she could have him, did the rest really matter? 

Even the rest of the world?

It was delusional, wrong, and morally corrupt. She knew that. But it was Eren , who saved her life at every turn, showed her kindness, whom she loved like nothing else in the world. Surely the rumbling could become a distant memory, something that never really happened…

A loud snap jolted her to her senses. 

Shit. I stepped on a twig. 

Mikasa scanned her surroundings, and saw no changes. Her vision was a little blurry- probably still the after effects of the paths - but even so, there were no sounds or indications that anyone had heard her. Mikasa inhaled, setting her sights on a  small lantern illuminating a shabby wooden building ahead of her. The golden glow of it was slashed by dark tree trunks ahead of her- good cover. 

What am I thinking?

She couldn’t let herself love him. It only brought pain.

I have to get it together. End this. 

Who’s to say he wouldn’t do everything again? And if he did, somehow, try to start the rumbling again, she knew exactly what she’d do- what she’d already done. The only way forward was to change things, and if they couldn’t, then it would end the same way- her blades at his throat. Maybe she should spare herself the false hope. 

Damn you, Eren. 

Visions of his death at her hands flashed through her head, both real and invented. 

Her hands on his throat, or a knife buried in it. A rock to the head. She could barely talk to him without fear that her instincts would take over and she would spring into action. 

Is this what she truly wanted?

No, she thought , I don’t want to hurt him. Not again. 

It was all too much. 

Mikasa stumbled into the radius of the glowing lantern’s light.

When did I get so clumsy?

It looked to be a stable, with an empty outdoor pen. The lantern sat swinging from a pole outside the great big doors at the end of the building- to her right. 

Damn it. If I don't risk anything, nothing will change. 

Mikasa crept towards the doors, opting for speed over stealth. The sound of horses champing and stomping inside covered any mistakes she made. Perfect. She found the heavy wooden doors to be barred, but unlocked. Getting inside would most certainly cause a ruckus, and alert attention. If that was their way out, then it would have to be done together, quickly, and they’d escape on horseback through the woods. 

We’ve survived worse plans, Mikasa thought; much, much worse plans. 

Something caught her eye- a glint of firelight at her feet. Kneeling down, she realised the reflection was glancing off a small knife nestled amongst a pile of cut rope. It was a tool; not a weapon; bearing a barely four-inch blade with a chipped wooden handle. 

Good enough. Mikasa hefted the knife in her hand. It was heavier than it looked, but still reasonably light in comparison to her usual blades. A fair weapon, if there were no alternatives. Now to find Eren. 

Since he’d gone to the right, the quickest path would be past several lodges and houses, some with firelight still flickering from the windows despite the late hour. 

I have my knife, Mikasa reminded herself. Not that it’ll come to it. One foot after another, she began to creep towards the first lodge. This sort of stealth mission wasn’t exactly what she was used to; but she could damn well do it. Especially when it had been given to her by the 15th commander of the survey corps. 

“Stay quiet. Recon. Return here.”

It should’ve been a testament to her quality as a soldier, her unquestioning following of orders. Instead it made her feel uneasy, how simple it was for her to switch into that mode and start seeing Armin as the scout’s commander instead of her friend. Well, no matter. Mikasa was a good soldier- she’d been given an order and she was going to do a damn good job of it. The darkness hanging over the village made it easy to go unseen, the only detectable traces being the occasional muddy footstep or a flicker of movement. Any observer could easily attribute the shifting shadows to a wild animal or a restless dog. 

There. Behind the northernmost wall of a lodge, an almost imperceptible twitch in the pitch-black. Eren. Gripping the knife tighter, she made for the lodge. Despite being deep into the village, the trees were thick and tall, providing decent cover. It felt good to rest her back against the rough bark, to peer around the trunk at her target. Focus. One last rush across the back wall of the house, past the open window, and she’d be right on him. Mikasa reached up for her scarf with her free hand, tightening it. She was fast, strong. Past the northernmost wall, and she could see him. Skulking around, his back to her. She was close enough now to see his dark brown hair fall just above his shoulders, clinging to his head. He was only wearing a ragged shirt and trousers, his shoes tattered. He looked remarkably… like himself. Like the boy she used to know.

This is the man that killed most of the world’s population?

Mikasa stepped out of her cover behind him.

“Mikasa.” He said, without turning to see her. 

Two steps and her knife was at his throat.

Just because I love you doesn’t mean I can’t hate you. 

“Don’t think I won’t do it again,” She hissed, “If I have to.”

What was she saying?

Eren paused, unmoving. 

“I’m sorry, Mikasa,” he said, “But I'm trusting you to do it.”

Huh? Trusting me?

“If I go mad again,” He clarified, “You’re the only one that could stop me.” He leaned into the knife a little, and Mikasa felt the hot trickle of blood on her fingers. She immediately pulled the knife away from his throat, her instincts wanting her to assess the damage. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Eren.” She said softly, as he turned to look at her. 

“Please, don’t make me do it again.” Her eyes started to water at the thought, and damn it, she could feel the stinging of her nose that always heralded crying, and she couldn’t stop the tears that started to fall as she dropped the knife wordlessly. A slicing pain in her middle two fingers caused her to inhale sharply, and her own hot red blood trickled down her hand as the knife fell onto the ground. Careless. Clumsy. 

Eren blinked at her, the picture of confusion. Damn it, I must look like a complete mess. 

Instead of taking the opportunity to turn away, Eren took her injured hand, squinting in the dark to assess the damage. 

“It’s alright, it doesn’t look too bad. Don’t cry, Mikasa.” He reached out a hand, holding her face gently and wiping away her tears with his thumb. 

It was impossible to keep her composure together, to pretend she hated him, even to herself. Stood there in tears, their blood mingling and cooling on her hand, tears streaming down her face, it hit her. Eren was alive. The rumbling didn’t happen here, in this world. What else apart from these simple truths mattered? She met his gaze, his grey eyes reflecting the faint lights of the lodges. He was looking at her with such gentle concern, and she took in a shaky breath before throwing her arms around his shoulders. Mikasa pulled him into a hug he wasn’t expecting, her face nestled into his neck, one hand in his hair, one on his back. 

She felt his arms hold her in return, crossed over her lower back. 

I refuse to let you go again, Eren. 

“I’m not- I’m not crying because of my hand, Eren,” She half-sobbed, shutting her eyes tightly, “I just- you’re alive .” It was real, his breaths, his choppy hair, his warm solid body pressed against hers.

“Believe me, I wasn’t expecting to be,” he murmured, “At least I don’t deserve to be. But I intend to stay alive, if you’ll let me stay by your side.”

“Of course,” Mikasa choked out, “I found some horses. We can steal them and leave after we find Armin.” She breathed deeply, letting go of the hug. She pulled her sleeve over the heel of her palm, wiping her face. Eren held out the knife to her, handle outwards. 

“It’s yours.” 

Mikasa nodded, taking the knife in her injured right hand. A little blood- both hers and his- still glistened along its edge. 

“Have you seen Armin?” She asked, trying to form her face back into its usual cold soldier-mask. 

“Yeah. I think he went over to another house. That way.” He pointed further east, to a house with bright candlelight emanating from the open windows. 

“Show me.” She replied, grasping his hand with her free one. He seemed surprised, but didn’t argue, leading her through the trees around the back of the lodge, past an empty pen. 

They could see the house Armin went to investigate from thirty yards back, in the safety of the dark amongst the trees. After that, a stretch of open grass bridged the gap between them and the house, leaving few hiding spots. The house itself was large, almost entirely wooden, and surrounded with farming equipment dotted about its ground and empty grass fields. Armin himself was slumped against the wall directly facing them, underneath an open window, his head in his hands. Voices from the window drifted over to them, too quiet to catch any specific words. The 15th commander lifted his head, clearly noticing their figures amongst the deep shadows. His face was illuminated, and it was clear he was in shock. 

It took him far too long to gather the courage to pick up the axe next to him, and begin the quick and silent rush towards his comrades.

Maybe he’s having a panic attack. 

She felt Eren stiffen beside her, dropping her hand. 

What could he have possibly overheard at that window? 

Armin reached them, breathing heavily as he made sure he wasn’t visible to the people in the window. 

“We need to get out of here.” Was all he said. 

“I found some horses,” Mikasa offered, “Back this way.” 

“Right.” Armin muttered. “Horses.” 

“What did you hear?” Eren asked.

“Not right now. Horses, go. Then I'll tell you.”

His words were accompanied by a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Whatever it is, it’s bad enough. 

Bad enough that he thinks we’ll break down?

A glance at Eren’s determined, angry face confirmed her fears. 

“This way.” 

The journey back didn’t take long, and she managed to find the very same barn. Armin had been unusually silent, and although he must’ve noticed the blood on Eren’s neck, he declined to comment. 

“This is it,” She whispered, “It’s barred. Once we break it, we have to leave fast.”

“How fast can you tack up a horse?” Armin said quietly, hefting his axe in his hands. 

“Fast,” Eren replied, “Levi used to make me tack up everyone’s horses.”

Armin nodded, smashing the axe into the barred door with a thud . It cleanly broke the wooden bar, sending a splintering sound ringing out into the otherwise silent night. Mikasa went to open the mercilessly squeaky doors, cringing at the noise. Inside the stable were at least six horses, champing and stomping in protest of the intrusion. No lanterns were left lit, but faint shafts of moonlight allowed Mikasa to see the vague outlines of the stalls, and the barely visible shine of a leather saddle and bridle neatly hung up by each one. Eren was already there, taking a bridle and saddle over to what she assumed was the least objectionable horse. Mikasa selected a random set, hanging it over the side of a quieter stall and pushing open the door. Lacking a sheath, she decided to hold the knife by its handle with her teeth.

“Right,” she whispered to the horse, “We are going to go somewhere together. Got it?”

She slid the bridle over its nose, fastening the straps. Talking to horses was a habit she’d picked up from Hange unconsciously over the years. Hange convinced her the horses would like her more if she did, and it actually seemed to work for the most part- even if it was a little muffled. 

“Now the saddle,” She muttered, heaving it off the wall and onto the horse’s back. It huffed in protest, but remained still and placid as she fastened the girth and checked the stirrups’ length. “Good girl.” She reassured, taking the knife out of her mouth and leading the horse out of the stall. Eren was already ahead of her, and Armin was still fiddling with the buckles on his horse’s saddle. Luckily, the horse was well-trained and happy to follow her out of the stable. Once out, it was a relief to be able to see. Her horse was a lovely chestnut brown, like the one Hange used to ride. She looked over to see Eren jump up onto the saddle, and once Armin led his horse out- a grey- she did the same. 

“This way,” Armin indicated with his head, holding the reins in one hand and the axe in his other. They followed him single file, with Eren at the back, weaving through trees as far away from houses with lights as possible. 

It wasn’t long before they left the village behind, but they didn’t speed up until they left the forest entirely. It thinned out abruptly, leaving open plains. Perfect terrain for horses. The moonlight lit up the empty landscape ahead of them, a familiar sight for three scouts. 

“Armin, what about titans?” Mikasa said as they left the safety of the trees. 

“There are no titans,” He responded, his voice flat. “Not anymore.”

“You know when we are.” Eren said. 

“Yes.” 

“Tell us.” Eren demanded. 

Mikasa kicked gently, urging her horse alongside Armin’s as the group broke into a canter. 

“You overheard something. How bad is it?”

Armin paused before replying. 

“The village we were in was Dauper. I overheard Sasha’s parents talking about her being sent on a mission to Marley tonight.”

“So you think tonight is…” Mikasa trailed off. 

Tonight? Then we’ve hardly gone back in time at all. How can it possibly be enough to change anything?

“The raid on Liberio.” Eren’s voice was grim. “Damn it!”

Sasha. 

She would still be alive. But there’s no way they could stop it now. 

“Sasha will die.” Eren voiced her thoughts. “She always dies then. Her last words are always ‘meat’. I couldn’t change it then, we can’t change it now.”

Always?

Oh. Right. 

It was easy to forget the way Eren described seeing time- a jumbled mess of past, present and future, where anything he saw was certain to happen, because to him, it had already happened. 

“We can still change things,” Armin shouted, “Maybe not Sasha’s death, but we can still stop the rumbling!” 

We already proved that, at least. 

Mikasa whipped her head around to look at Eren, who was falling behind. 

“Eren!” 

The sound of deranged laughter pierced the night behind them. 

“Get a grip!” Armin yelled.

“Everything I did, hah, and we’re all going to charge in and die anyway?” A delusional grin spread across his face as his laughter faded. 

“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but we’re scouts.” Mikasa rebutted, “That’s nothing new.”

“ So , where are we going, Armin?” Eren yelled, urging his horse to run alongside Mikasa’s. 

“The old Scout Headquarters.”

Safer than Mitras. How would we explain ourselves? 

Eren started laughing again, and didn't stop until the sun came up.

Chapter Text

By the time he had stopped laughing, the rising sun bored into his eyes, rendering his vision useless. All he knew was a boundless realm of hoofbeats and the endless red sky above him. A glimpse into the best moments of his life- chasing down titans across an endless grassy field outside the walls, faster than the wind atop his horse. A memory of the dark joy he felt on expeditions. 

There had always been something grimly exciting about them- the adrenaline, the fear, the gore on his face. The rush of relief seeing his comrades survive impossible circumstances time after time. The gory reward of steam and blood after he watched someone he vaguely knew die in a titan’s grasp, and felt that rush of revenge as he brought his palm to his teeth. 

The flash of rage, the homing in on the pain, feeling every toothmark as he ripped his flesh to the bone.

The spark. The blaze. He loved it. Loved it like he loved Mikasa with a knife to his throat. 

Eren missed his freedom sorely, but this- this was the closest he had. 

A stolen horse and friends who were taking him to his sure execution. Well, maybe not Mikasa- if she wanted him dead again she’d do it herself. That much was clear. But Armin? He’d do it. 

He’d betray me. Just like he should. 

No, that's not right. What was he thinking? They had a mission. Stop everything. 

Stop me. The other me. 

He dropped the reins and outstretched his arms, letting the wind rake through his hair. 

It was close. So, so close to the feeling he chased his whole life. 

A glimpse of his old life, when he was most in his element, chasing Death through valleys and forests, across the sea, through the sky. That’s how he’d lived, ripping through his life and never looking back at the bloody trail he left. Perhaps this was all a fiction, a seven-minute run of his short and gruesome legacy. 

I want this to be real . 

A sudden, very real jolt of fear struck his abdomen. 

I have a job to do. 

If he did it again- did everything again- would he keep being sent back here? 

Did he want to do it again? 

No.

It felt odd, not having to. Not already having done it. The uncertainty, he realised, was truly him again. He was free. And maybe, just maybe, things were better with him alive. 

So, what should you do, Eren? His father’s voice seemed to echo. 

He took hold of the reins, asking his tired horse to catch up to Mikasa and Armin’s. 

Whatever they want, he answered, I’ve had enough of what I want. 

“Armin! Mikasa!” He yelled, falling in formation. 

“Eren!” Mikasa had a faint smile on her face. 

“Are you alright?” Armin shouted. 

Oh, right. The maniacal laughing fit. 

“I’m fucking free!” 

“Yeah?” Armin grinned back. 

“I have no idea what is going to happen. I don’t even know if our mission is possible.”

“That’s a good thing?” 

“Yes,” Eren shouted into the wind, “Yes!”

He had felt blind at first, without the memories of the future. But his eyes were adjusting. Mikasa might never love him. Maybe he’d learn to bear it; if she let him in her presence. If she kept him around. 

He tried not to think about the kiss. 

“Eren, we’re close to the old headquarters.” Mikasa warned, jolting him from his thoughts. 

True enough, the old stone ruins rose from the horizon ahead. They weren’t vacant- the flags blew merrily in the dawn wind. 

When they arrived, Armin reminded them again to let him do the talking. 

“Everything will be impossible to explain–say as little as possible.” 

“Understood.” Mikasa murmured, dismounting. 

They tied the horses to a post at the gate, walking single file inside the old headquarters. 

It was silent inside, save the creaking wooden floor. There was dust; but disturbed as if someone had passed through not long ago. 

“We should split up and search the place,” Mikasa suggested, “Armin?”

“I’m not really commander anymore,” he whispered back, “We should find Hange.” 

“Got it. Eren?”

“I’ll go up and check the second floor.” Mikasa narrowed her eyes in response. Someone who knew her less well might assume suspicion- but he knew better. 

“Don’t worry. If someone asks, I'll just explain nicely.” 

Armin snorted and moved off to search the room to the left, but Mikasa didn’t find it as funny.

“You can’t tell anyone.” 

“I… I’ll let Armin do the talking. Mikasa, I wouldn’t really tell them what- what I did.”

Not without your permission.

“I have to know. Would you do it again?” She asked earnestly, grasping his wrist. 

No. 

“Only if you asked me to,” Eren rasped. “I’m sorry for joking.” She nodded, satisfied with the answer, dropping his hand. 

“Go,” she whispered, “Don’t say a word.”

“I’ll be fine.” 

You’ll get over me. 

Eren turned and climbed the stairs to search the second floor, the floorboards noisily announcing his entry into the corridor. He picked a door, entering an office. 

It was old and dusty, with unimportant paperwork strewn from their once neat piles. The furniture was wooden, but still nice, and the windows were left open. Seeing it all seemed to catapult him through time– and he could recall how Levi would call him into this room to ask him to do yet another meaningless task. He would sit with his teacup and paperwork, asking why Eren hadn’t tacked up all those horses or cleaned all those corridors yet. 

He’d hate the dust. 

Yes, Levi’s old office. Noone had been here in years. 

Then why were there footprints in the dust? 

The fist collided with the side of Eren’s head before he had a second to contemplate where it was coming from. He hit the ground with a crash; collapsing in a heap and pulling the desk over with him. Smash, another fist to the face, and another, and the pain started blooming in his nose and jaw. There was no let-up; no recourse, and the small point of rage that let him erupt into his titan form was long-gone. Through the blood in his eyes he saw Levi’s old paperwork fluttering across the fists that were punching him as he laid there. Maybe it was better, easier. Whoever this was. For them to just finish him off and leave his corpse in this old office where it couldn't hurt anyone. 

But they need you, a small voice urged him in the back of his head. 

Mikasa and Armin need you. They can’t end this without you. 

He let the fists pummel him, just as he deserved. He was no stranger to pain. 

They need you, the voice said again, get up. 

On your feet, Eren. 

He couldn't do it. 

“Eren!” Mikasa shouted distantly. The fists stopped as his assailant was bodily thrown across the room with a crash . Mikasa stepped over him, knife in hand, putting herself in between him and his attacker. 

“Mikasa,” he groaned, “I-”

“Not a word.” She cut him off, “And what are you doing–Jean?” She whispered the name in shock. His mystery assailant- it had been his own comrade. 

Eren rubbed his eyes, twisting to look at his attacker. It was Jean. Jean had tried to beat him to death in a dusty old office. Unsurprising, given the circumstances-

How does he know about the circumstances? 

Matter of fact- how is he here? Shouldn’t he be returning from Liberio?

“Mikasa, you should get away from him,” Jean snarled.  Mikasa, ever resolute, didn’t move as Eren scrambled to his feet behind her. 

“He has to die. He has to die today, Mikasa.” 

“Jean, what are you- oh. ”

 “Jean.” Mikasa had figured out what Eren did only moments later. “Jean, It’s me. I was there.” 

“Mikasa?” Jean coughed. “If it's really that version of you, how did he die before?” Jean said, pointing to Eren. 

Touchy subject. 

“I- I cut off his head.” Mikasa fought to keep her voice steady. 

“Then you understand why this has to be done.”

Mikasa stepped in front of him even more defensively.

“It’s different. He didn’t have a choice.”

“Then-”

“Hi, Jean.” Eren got out through a mouthful of his own blood. No titan healing powers anymore– he was solidly reminded of that. 

“He’s not a threat,” Mikasa said quietly. Jean’s stunned expression of disbelief indicated he was unconvinced. 

“Is it really you?” Jean said, “You piece of shit. You got sent back like we did?” 

“Yeah.” Eren stepped forwards, offering Jean a hand. 

“I know what you did.” Jean didn’t move.

“Help me stop it,” Eren offered. 

To his surprise, Jean took his hand, got up, and embraced him. 

When he let go he narrowed his eyes in a distant expression. 

“You have to explain everything,” Jean said, “Even though we got our memories back, I still don’t trust you.” 

“Jean,” Mikasa said softly, and the two embraced. A hideous curl of jealousy snarled in his stomach. Once, that sort of trigger could be seized and transformed into a Titan rage, . Had they always been close? 

“We can explain everything, but Eren didn’t- he didn’t have a choice. Please understand that.” Jean rubbed his face. It wasn’t the whole truth, but Mikasa had a tendency to excuse his actions. To ignore the wrong he had done. 

“That doesn't mean he’s innocent.” 

“Who among us is innocent, Jean?” Mikasa said. 

“We can stop it?” Jean asked, ignoring the question. 

“We have to try,” Mikasa said softly, “I don’t know if it’s possible to save them all. To stop it. In any way other than what we did.”

“And even if we succeeded- what happens to Paradis? Are we all doomed so the rest of the world can succumb slowly to Marley?” 

“I promised you’d all live long lives.” Eren said. 

“Your promises don’t mean a lot to me.” Jean snapped. “They didn’t mean anything for Sasha either.”

A beat of silence. 

“I don’t know,” Mikasa said, “I want to try. We can fight Marley.” 

“We could just use the titans.” 

“Jean…” 

“I don’t have any titan abilities. They're all gone. Same for Armin.”

Jean held a stunned expression for a second, then– 

“Hahaha! I thought you weren’t smoking. So- Mikasa, you want to risk the world and Paradis just to fight Marley without any titan shifters?”

“Yes.” 

“I need a damn cigarette. That's one thing that’s good about that blasted place.”

“Jean!” Armin called from the doorway. “I can explain-” 

“I know,” Jean interrupted, “I was there.” 

“Jean,” Armin said, looking first at Eren, then at the blood on Jean’s knuckles, “It’s good to see you. I thought it was just us three.”

“Nah,” Jean explained, “you were up ahead, you couldn’t see us.”

“Us? Where’s Connie?” 

Always the most astute of the three, Armin. 

“He went to find Erwin, or Hange, or Levi.” 

Armin’s face fell. “Commander Erwin?” 

“Yes. We figured we’d been sent back some time. I don’t know how far we’re back, but Connie figured that Erwin would know what to do.”

“Jean… Erwin is dead.” Eren’s voice faltered. 

He doesn’t know what day it is. 

Doesn’t know about Sasha. 

“Tell me.” Jean demanded, “Tell me the date. You know it somehow.”

Eren exhaled slowly. 

“What year is it, Eren?” Jean pressed, a warning growl edging into his voice. 

“Last night was the Raid on Liberio.” 

Fitting, he realised, the night I realised I had no choice. 

Jean collapsed into Levi’s old chair. “Then Sasha…”

“Hold on,” Armin said carefully, “We’re making a big assumption.”

“I saw it, Armin. Every single time.” Eren said in a heavy voice. 

A gunshot. Blood on the floorboards. Connie’s screams. Meat. Laughter. 

“No- I mean- if I rolled a die that night and it landed on a six, would it do the same again this time around? Think about it. Is chance the same? Or are we the only difference?”

Eren remembered what Mikasa told him once he awoke. 

“She offered you the chance to do it all again. To change what…comes to pass.”

“I think- I think only we can change things.” He got out.

Silence and grief pressed in on the room. 

“I’m a fool to hope.” Jean said eventually. 

“Maybe.” Armin said, “Maybe not. We won’t know until Connie gets back. Don’t give up hope. Not yet.”

Jean sighed. “No, I shouldn’t have let myself have it in the first place. So, what are we to do then, Commander? Wait?” 

“Our primary objective is to protect Paradis at all costs. Our secondary objective is to prevent the rumbling. But there’s also a war with Marley to consider.”

Mikasa nodded. 

“Hopefully we don’t have to do it all on our own this time,” Jean grumbled, “You’re a lot of hard work, Eren.”  

Eren tried to wipe more of his blood off his face and clothes, to no avail. “You know I'd do anything for Paradis. Not that I can do much anymore.”

“You can get back into ODM gear like the rest of us,” Jean suggested, “Although I don’t think Mikasa will let you so much as look at a weapon anytime soon.” 

Armin took a breath. “Jean, about that- we shouldn’t tell Hange what happened.”

Jean raised one eyebrow. “You’re suggesting we lie about it?”

“No- Just- They might execute Eren if they know about the Rumbling.” 

“ Can you execute someone for something that hasn’t happened yet?” Mikasa sat down on the desk.

“Eren got sent back. We just happened to be near enough for it to affect us too. Who’s to say? If something happens to him.. It could all snap back.” 

Silence. 

Snap back? It was a strangely horrifying thought, being returned to a reality of his own design. 

I am never going back again. 

“I don’t know how this works,” Eren rasped, “I don’t know any of it. Just that I have another chance. And I can’t see anything that will happen anymore, so I have no way of guaranteeing your safety if anything goes wrong.”

It was like learning to walk again, thinking in such a linear way. He kept expecting to know things, and when he turned to them they just weren’t there. Jean’s punches still stung, reminding him of his lack of foresight. The future seemed so vast and unknown, a deep murky sea he’d previously sailed straight over. Most of his friends would drown in it, no matter what he did. And he’d have to watch as everything he fought for washed away. His path before kept them alive, sure- but his comrades had always been just as crazy as him- suicidal maniacs. You had to be, to be a Scout, and he knew life wasn’t what they wanted above all else. 

Too bad. 

Would he have to choose? There was nothing to tell him what to do. It could all fail, lead to the destruction of Paradis. 

But it could succeed, he couldn’t help but selfishly wonder, It could succeed. Mikasa and Armin could be safe. The world could be safe, with Marley destroyed. He could even, maybe, live to see it. 

See the world with Armin, just like I promised.