Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eren wakes up. 

His body aches, his missing leg and eye throbs painfully, and there was a deep seated soreness from his core. 

Laying there lethargic on the flimsy medical cot is where he takes a breather for a moment after almost a year of sprinting from one objective to another. 

His brain couldn’t wrap itself around the fact that the Battle of Trost only happened nine months ago.

The brunet closes his one remaining eye and lets the weariness claim him. At the realization of how time has passed, his traitorous heart pulses at the memory of a time that feels like it was from another world altogether. Full of long gone hope and pride, just when he finally felt like things were looking up. When he had almost everything important close to him in his life before his heart was shattered and he spiraled further into existential crises four months later. He harshly presses his lips together and shoves it all back down and tucks himself back under blankets of apathy, shivering under the thinnest sheet the medical staff could spare. 

Just take a break for a moment, he tells himself. Then he’ll go back to carrying the weight of the world afterwards. But for now, Eren is too tired to even grow distressed or complain about all the unfamiliar scents under the sour miasma of gunpowder, rotting flesh, and blood stained sand.

He’s been in Marley for almost a month, now. First coming here with the Survey Corps not too long after establishing a deal with Yelena and Zeke. The anti-Marleyan volunteer and captured Marleyans could only explain so much of the outside world to the wide-eyed infants of Paradis. Fast forward five months and they’ve gotten rid of all titans on the island by the first winter, somehow started on the construction of guns and railroads on the island, established an alliance and early trade drafts between Paradis and the Azumabito clan, and landed the Levi squad onto the shores of Marley. 

“Eren.” Armin and the rest of the squad had trained their attention on him that night before the trip. Their little 104th pack always ate together in the mess hall and that night wasn’t any different aside from the seriousness everyone portrayed. “Are you sure we don’t need to postpone the expedition? We’re worried about you.” 

The headstrong and furious brunet had slowly but noticeably turned distant and quiet in between frequent stomach cramps and vomiting ever since they took back Shiganshina. Steadily and subtly, each one of Eren’s friends made a silent pact to make sure one of them was in his general vicinity just in case his condition all of a sudden worsened. 

Jean repeatedly carried his ass back to his bunk after he ran out to empty his stomach in the middle of the night. Connie slipped him foods that were easier on the stomach for how nauseous he’s been. Sasha occasionally got him treats he’s been having killer cravings for. Mikasa and Armin smuggled him painkillers for aches that somehow escaped his regeneration powers much to everyone’s surprise. Eren hated it at first, but thanked them wholeheartedly during the worst of it.

The omega waved away their worries, putting on an aloof air, “I’m fine. Time is of the essence after all. It’s just the stress.” 

Judging by what Eren could sense, none of them believed it was just the stress. 

“Hey man,” Connie started, “You may be our hotshot shifter, but you’re our friend first and foremost. You know we’re here for you, right?”

Sasha spoke in between mouthfuls of dinner rolls, “Our shoulders may not be as big as a titan’s, but they’re just as sturdy.”  

“Better looking too.” Jean chimed in lazily that Eren wrinkled his nose at. Horseface smirked but shifted immediately back to the collective’s tone, “When’s the last time you visited an actual doctor? No offense to Hange, but maybe we’ve been overlooking your human side.”

Eren huffed, his appreciation slowly wearing thin at the coddling, his mind set on what he had to do, “I really do appreciate it, but you guys are overreacting. It’s probably just the side effects of shifting too much and the stress. Like I said, I’m fine.” He had said the final words with more force than needed, but his attitude wasn’t anything new to them. Unbeknownst to them at the time, their worries will remain and grow beyond the trip.

As a final word, Mikasa placed a firm hand on his shoulder and her usual stoic expression was alit in worry and protectiveness. “At any point, if you need anything or something feels off, you let any of us know.” They all wordlessly gave Eren their support that had made him want to start crying in the middle of the cafeteria right then and there. He instead steeled himself and engraved their faces and care into his memories for what was about to come.

They sailed over the fabled ocean and witnessed humanity thriving outside their walls. While everyone enjoyed the sights, Eren had to keep himself grounded from the weight of his memories. By the end of the first night, he sobbed his heart out to a kid he will kill. 

The alcohol later that night helped him stay in the moment longer, his high tolerance allowing him to enjoy the sights of his friends being happy and together one last time before he embarks on a road no one else can follow. 

It took Eren less than a week to leave the team after seeing all he needed to see in Marley. The dwindling hope for diplomacy and the solidifying weight of what his future held shattered him slowly and surely. 

Then, with Yelena’s advice and help, the titan shifter found himself alone and expendable on the battlefield between Marley and the Mid-East. 

He figured if he snuck into Liberio as a medically discharged, amnesiac, and traumatized soldier from the war, he could buy some time and bum in whatever hospital ward that could house him while he scopes out the city. Plan out the stages of his attack while Paradis advances in their new technologies. 

What he never would have even considered figuring out– nowhere, not even in his newly inherited memories, did it fucking say anything about giving birth in a goddamn trench. 

Eren vividly remembers the chaos– the fear, the desperation, the rage. Soldiers launching in every direction as they tried to keep moving forward as if they hadn't seen hell yet. Eren found a dead end trench to hack off his own limb and eye in. His screams tore his throat while the bombs drowned out his cries and tore through the corpse strewn battlefield overhead. He laid there in absolute agony forcing himself to not healing his wounds. Losing a limb still sucks even if he’s lost the same one once already. 

As he laid there, bleeding under a smoke clogged sky with the surrounding gunfire rumbling his bones, his stomach cramps got unbearably worse. He started having them almost a day ago, but he largely ignored them thinking he either ate a particularly bad ration or the stress was finally doing in his body.

It wasn’t until he touched his stomach that the answer came flying into him like a bullet. Whether it was provided to him by his memories or Eren finally connected the dots himself didn't matter as his blood ran cold and his grip tightened over his abdomen at the answer received. 

The symptoms had been mostly if not all there for the past nine months despite not visibly showing whatsoever. And Eren had just ignored all of them. The strange cravings, the missing heats, the fatigue and nausea– all he presumed was from how completely stressed and depressed he’s been. Chalking them all as something to take care of later or let fade away eventually.

‘Later’ had arrived and Eren remembered what he told his friends on the night before they sailed to Marley – he was not fine. He screamed more and a few stray tears from his earlier pain fell from the newly erupted turmoil within him. Leaving was still fresh in his mind and he desperately wanted to go back.

But there was no time to dwell in the past and there was no turning back on the road he chose. The brunet only hesitated for a moment until he forced his body to move. He grabbed the discarded knife he used not a moment ago and added another consequence to his growing list of selfish calls. 

Let him be a hypocrite. Let him save, create, at least one life instead of snuffing it out. 

He vaguely remembers seeing young Eldian soldiers running up to him with their stark colorful armbands contrasting against the dirt and gray. Two teens, one probably a year or two younger than him and the other one barely starting his teenage years. The looks on their faces makes Eren huff in amusement at the thought. Then again, he would’ve made the same face too if he were in their shoes, stumbling upon a barely alive, bloody heap that was himself post labor, clutching his crying newborn to his chest like they were his lifeline. There was some shouting from them and incoherent muttering from himself before blacking out and waking up in what Eren assumes is the medical tent.

Eren sniffs the air and underneath the scent of other strangers and war machinery nearby, he catches a familiar scent. He looks to the side, thankfully his good side, mentally thanking whoever took care of him as his eye trail to a small open top, wooden crate with layered thin blankets overflowing from it. It sits on a wooden folding stool right at the head of his cot, both having seen better days. It wasn’t too bad of a makeshift crib for the new life gently sleeping away in it, despite being surrounded by who knows how many lives lost.

He was already semi propped up in the bed, but he takes a deep breath before trying to sit further up- which does not happen. Right- he had cut up his abdomen. The muscles there are severed. He curses at the situation. Everything in his body screams in protest against him but he’s nothing but stubborn as he instead reaches out and and gently eases the crate onto his cot without disturbing his wounds too much. When he peers inside, what meets his gaze leaves him awestruck.

The baby is so tiny. 

Eren’s brows deeply furrow as he internally apologizes to his child for having overlooked them for the past months. For bringing them into this hellscape that’s their world.

His child…

… He has a baby .  

The panic starts to set as the situation crashes down on Eren. He’s eighteen, a month out from turning nineteen, and he has a child. He doesn’t know the first thing about raising a baby- they didn’t teach that in the Training Corps. In fact, they warned them of their shorter lifespans if they chose the Survey Corps and strongly advised them against dreaming about their futures outside of what was needed of them as soldiers. But still, that never stopped young teens from dreaming of a world at their fingertips and their chosen loved ones at their sides. Of how they would have wanted their lives to go. Eren at one point so long ago once imagined the same.

This is far from how he'd imagined having a child could've gone.

He’s in the middle of Marley, just starting his mission to meet with Zeke and the Restorationists, the furthest away from home he could possibly be, and he’s completely on his own. He won’t have Armin’s steady guidance or Mikasa’s strength to lean on or the rest of the squad for additional support- if they even support him anymore. 

Eren barely took care of himself, even more so now that he’s missing an eye and a leg. Not to mention how many fights he’s been in the past nine months. There were days where food or taking care of himself was the last thing on his mind. To add insult to injury, he also drank alcohol intermittently amongst their friends whenever they could sneak some into the barracks. The last time he drank was only a week ago with some heavy liquor.

Great fucking job, Eren Jaeger. He’s already potentially harmed his own child unknowingly. And he brought them into Marley behind enemy lines. If he wasn't so depleted of energy, he would've started physically punching himself. First tasks as a parent and he’s failing miserably. His breathing was coming out short and the faintest bubble of laughter–or was that a sob?–escapes his lungs at how beyond fucked this all was since he’s also going to die in several years. 

Oh, Ymir.

He is going to die in several years...

Would it… Would it be better to give them away then? 

So Eren can do his job without either of them endangering each other, but to also find a proper family to take care of them? A family that’ll hopefully care for them as long as they can? So they don’t grow up abandoned? The thought of his child believing that they were abandoned, unwanted without a care, makes his brows deeply crease while his lungs take in a sharp, labored inhale through gritted teeth and his throat closing up on him. 

A warbled babbling shakes him out of his spiraling thoughts. Eren takes a few deep breaths and lets his attention clear his mind to pinpoint onto the source of the noise coming from the crate.

Eren instinctively reaches out and tugs them closer to gently hover his hand over the tiny bundle. He’s unfamiliar with the movements, afraid he’ll harm them in his lack of knowledge. His hands, so used to gripping blades and punching enemies, shakes from the weight of it all, unsure of how to care for such a small life. 

He thinks about finding another family for them once more. At this earliest chance, find one of the Scouts still in Marley and hand them off to be sent back to Paradis. Find a better supportive family to safely take care of them…

…But. For the briefest moment, Eren thinks about how he’d never have this chance with a child again. 

He has already crushed a piece of himself by leaving his friends. If he leaves his child now, Eren would doubt his dwindling sanity would be able to complete his mission.

And maybe… Just maybe. A small, repressed part of him that’s given up on the things he’d want in the future wants to feel what it’d be like to have one of them, even if it’s only for a short time. 

Eren feels like the biggest hypocrite in the world.

I truly am beyond worse than him .

With careful determination, the brunet delicately and slowly picks up his child, admiring the warm, tiny life he holds in his hands. They feel as light as an ODM gear’s main unit that sat on their lower backs, if not a little less than that. Their skin was still flushed and sensitive and they hadn't opened their eyes yet, but he could feel them slowly calm down from their initial distress. Eren gently scents his child to further reassure them while ghosting his fingers over their small round features, not wanting to disturb them too much or stain their blank slate of a life with his own blackened future. 

For all the pain he’s been through, this child was from a much simpler time, filled with pride and ambition, family and love – even if an aspect of that last one wasn’t true to begin with.

His child tilts their head towards his hands, wanting to be closer to his warmth. Eren’s chest tightens and the steel facade he was ready to play is set aside. He refuses to put up a cold mask in front of his child no matter the circumstance. Right now, he just wants to sit with and learn more about the little life in his arms.

For surviving with Eren through all of his battles so far, Eren can’t help but smile as he strokes their face. He brings his face down to gently connect their foreheads.

What a fighter they already are. 

Eventually he was seen to by a nurse, a stressed but patient Eldian woman. She helped onboard him into the present on his and his child’s physical states. While small and a little under nourished, with proper nutrition, his son – his son – should be healthy. The brunet let out a relieved breath before thanking them and taking back his son from her grasp.

They’ve been slated to be on the next transport truck that’ll take the injured therefore Eren would be stuck here in the ICU tents for a bit longer and would have to deal with war time rations. He hates that he’ll have to raise his child in Marley’s harsh living conditions, but that’s his consequence to deal with one step at a time. 

Eren will make the best of what he’s got until he’s able to send them both properly back home. Who knows whenever that’ll be, now.

“Did you have a name for him?” the nurse asks after checking and cleaning his wounds for the day. 

“…Carlan,” Eren softly said. After his mom.

The nurse blinks at the name before nodding with a soft expression. “It’s a wonderful name.”

He wonders how she would react. 

He knows she’d hate his future plans, hate what he’s doing. He hates it too, but he can picture in his mind's eye how she’d gush over a grandchild, another little version of him running around. Probably would worm her way into caring for him from time to time even when he’s not busy. Or maybe complain heatlessly about how unruly he’d be if their mannerisms took after Eren’s. He can imagine his dad fussing over Eren, reminding him to feed his child a balanced, nutritional diet no matter how tempting it is to give in and feed his baby the unhealthier things he likes more. And then there’s Hannes teasing him over his parenting skills even though he’d have no right to talk. 

Pain rips through his soul at the memories of his parents and uncle-figure, the guardians of his life growing up… At what he's done. To them and to what he still needs to do.

Mom, dad, Hannes… I’m so sorry. 

Eren hopes they’re all resting easy and are spared the sight of what he has become as he gently practices rocking Carlan in his arms.  

The following day, Eren receives an unexpected visitor.

A young blonde boy with a bright yellow armband. Too young to have presented yet, but old enough to know how to shoot a gun.

The warrior candidate… 

Bruises. Compassion. Letters. Hope. Wings… 

Eren was in the middle of practicing how to change diapers after a lesson from his assigned nurse, who’s been gratefully teaching him all sorts of caretaking tips as an excuse to rest with them before returning to her designated horrors. Eren quickly wraps up his current attempt and brings his child against his chest protectively while regarding the young teen curiously. 

“Excuse me. I just- ah-” the boy stammers a few steps away from the foot of his cot, takes a quick breath then steels himself to finish his sentence under the scrutiny of Eren’s eye, “ I wanted to make sure you were okay! The both of you.” 

Eren gives the kid a softer expression, letting his initial defensiveness wane slightly at the growing nervous scent. So the Marleyan agenda hasn't completely stripped him of his humanity yet. He knows that’ll remain the case. 

“You were one of the ones that found us, weren’t you?” Eren starts. 

After a small nod of confirmation, Eren continues out of courtesy, “Thank you. We’re both alive.” Eren wouldn’t personally consider himself ‘okay’ in any sense of the word, but being alive is a good enough place to start. 

The young boy sighs in relief, the tension leaving his shoulders a that made way for a bright boyish smile, “I see. I’m so glad to hear. You don’t have to fight anymore…”

Eren holds back a scoff at the last statement and remains quietly observant to his visitor. The candidate stays standing there a beat longer, glancing back and forth at Eren and the rest of the medical tent. 

The brunet hums at the lull in conversation before deciding to humor the boy, “Would you like to meet him?”

The boy's peridot eyes widen in wonder as he tentatively confirms, “If that’s alright with you, sir!” 

He came bounding over after Eren jerks his head to the side to beckon him closer to his bedside so he didn’t have to shift so much. Eren lowers and tilts his pup from his chest towards the boy to show him the life he helped save. The young soldier smiles brightly at the sight as Carlan starts making softer noises and moving around, probably in response to the new smell from the warrior candidate. Eren reassures him subtly in emitting a light calming scent, something to let them know he’s not going anywhere and that he’s safe. 

“Ah! They’re so small!” 

“Just a bit,” Eren admits. “Pretty sure that’s all newborns though.”

“Not all,” an unfamiliar voice sounds. Eren smelled the incoming beta before they arrived at his footside with a chuckle, “Falco here was a huge baby when he was born!” 

Wine. Protective. Inheritor. Brother…

“Was I?!” Falco exclaims with a small flush to his face. He looks at himself before looking back at Carlan, his brain doing mental acrobatics in front of their eyes. 

“Bigger than me, so mom says.” The older teen soldier, another yellow armband, regards him kindly keeping a respectable distance. “I was wondering where he went. I’m sorry if he’s disturbed you.” 

“Not at all. I should be saying that to you if memory serves me correctly.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I think I can speak for us both that we wanted you to survive. I’m Colt by the way. This is Falco, my brother.”  

Eren nods in acknowledgement at his greeting and mentally notes how the two were almost a spitting image of each other with an age gap.

“...I’m Kruger,” Eren offers politely. Time to start testing his new moniker. “And this is Carlan.”

Colt smiles openly at them and asks, “It’s nice to meet you two and to see that you both will be making it out of here alive. I’m surprised they even let you onto the field in the first place.”

“I didn’t know I was expecting.” Eren answers bluntly, honestly. 

Colt does his best to hide his shock, doing a much better job than Falco who’s openly dropping his jaw. Instead of dwelling too much on the worrying implications of such lack of foresight, the older brother moves forward focusing on the brighter side of the topic.

“I take it you’ll be on the next medical bus headed back home then?” 

The brunet nods in agreement to which Falco picks his jaw back off the floor to hopefully ask, “Is there anyone…?” He trails off, second guessing his question mid statement. 

Eren looks down at Carlan and brushes the soft, dark brown tufts of hair on his head – the first thing he knows Carlan’s gotten from him so far. 

“No. It’ll be just us two.” 

Silence, worry, and a hint of judgment met Eren’s answer. He’ll let the silence of his subtle actions and answer create the rest of the story for him while covering the half truth. There’s another side to this equation that’s so empty and heavy, his blank neck another insistent flag at the back of his mind, but Eren would rather take out his other eye than admit to missing the bastard that toyed with his heart for three years. 

Falco was the first to break the silence. “Colt, do you think mom and dad could lend a hand?”

“Not unless both parties want to,” the elder brother almost admonishes his overly caring younger brother.

Eren carefully regards the two. What kind people they were. He feels a rising shame swirl within him as he shrinks in on himself on purpose, and looks away. “I don’t wish to impose and I wouldn’t have any form of repayment. But… My head was hit pretty hard on the field and my memory’s pretty spotty. I… I don’t want them to take away my child while I'm being administered…” More half truths like the ones Eren and the 104th received so long ago. 

If he was by himself, he’d stay alone. A form of self penance and self preservation so he doesn’t get attached to people he’ll inevitably kill. Save himself from any more mental anguish that’ll break his sanity. But Eren isn’t by himself anymore. He has someone else he wants to take care of but doesn’t know where to begin. Someone he refuses to lose or sacrifice for his plans.

Colt suppresses a strangled noise and bashfully rubs the back of his neck. “...We’ll see about writing to them, then.” Falco gives him a wide smile. 

Eren gives them both a small smile in gratitude. He feels guilty, but he’ll take whatever help he can get at this point. If he told any of his current accomplices about his child, they’d either call off the mission or take away his child, and Eren absolutely cannot accept either option. 

They exchange a few more pleasantries, figure out the mailing situation since Colt knows where to send the messages as there’s only one hospital in Liberio’s internment zone. Sounds horribly overcrowded and Eren is already dreading it, but it can’t be helped. Eventually, they leave to return to their country’s bidding and Eren bids them farewell, wishing them the best of luck to see through the war in one piece. 

Carlan makes a bright sound below him that snaps Eren’s attention downwards. 

Bright, hazel eyes stare up at him in curiosity, finally gracing the world with their innocent presence. So light and warm that they might as well be gold. 

Eren’s silver eye stares back down in awe at such a familiar, precious, and heart aching sight. Eyes that remind him of hopeful promises and sweet secret exchanges in between lessons in the comfort of personal little worlds carved away from a cruel reality. Until reality decided to reel its ugly head and the delicate joys shattered, reminding each and everyone of them just where they belonged in this cold, ill-fated world.

He breathes and smiles solemnly, tilting his head down to gently nuzzle against their soft curls and purr in comfort, further making his child babble happily and calming his own emotions. 

His son managed to get his father’s eyes. 

Liberio’s internment zone matches every single one of his memories’ descriptors for it. Grimy, gray, and smaug-filled. 

The exact opposite of the flourishing city outside the zone.

The antithesis of the far stretching fields of Paradis with their own industry being contained to one district. 

Then again, Eren was biased and luckily lived above ground unlike those in the Undercity. At that point, the Undercity could be the Internment Zone equivalent. It’s a little hard to argue that the Undercity was any better. But Historia is making her best efforts to lift up her inhabitants. 

Any improvements on Marley’s part for Liberio are questionable at best. 

Some of the military escorts had poked fun at the traumatized veterans and some made eyes at him along with the other omegas in the group making the hairs at the back of Eren’s stand on end. So far, Eren can disappointingly say that he has not strangled anyone yet nor has he killed with his own crutch on his way to the Liberio internment zone. If there was a betting pool for how many he’d either maim or at least punch on his journey, no one would win. 

When he was admitted into the wards, Eren was ready for the worst. Make a run for it with Carlan if needed- fuck the mission if they take away his son. He’ll attempt his plan again elsewhere. Thankfully, the nurses and doctors have been more than accommodating. They gave him a room to himself and some baby amenities for Carlan after assigning him and his son a doctor and going over both his mental and physical health regime.

Eren quickly realizes how much more important secondary genders were in Marley. 

In Paradis, no gospel was preached over it since there were other priorities with living in the walls and surviving in their closed system. Some discrimination existed as private conversations at home or tavern gossip, something about bonded life, preferred occupation, or how someone should act. But social and law wise, nothing bars any particular secondary gender from doing whatever they want within their capabilities.

Marley on the other hand treats secondary genders like they treat Eldians, selectively and restrictively. 

Alphas are prized. The warrior program further condones the mindset with a preference for alphas and the occasional beta to inherit their titans, with the rarest exception for omegas. The earlier the kids presented, the more likely they are either kept or let go to further narrow down the process. Outside of the program, omegas were brushed to the side for almost all manners of life outside of the home and other caretaking facilities. They had to rely on themselves or pray for a friendly alpha in obtaining certain licenses, even. Additionally, alphas were free to forgo blockers and suppressants while omegas and some betas were required to wear blockers. 

Eren really doesn’t want to blow up Marley, but damn do they make it difficult. 

He later got a hold of a smiling educational omega pamphlet that mocked him with “proper mannerisms and auspicious child rearing.” His first act as a “newly informed omega” is properly ripping the pamphlet to shreds and slamming it into the nearest trash bin.

What he will reluctantly acknowledge inwardly was Marley’s medicine, specifically in suppressants. They seem slightly more effective than those in Paradis, but the side effects were a little more worrying according to some of the nurse’s warnings. 

“No scent blockers for half a year to make sure your child knows the scent of their own parent. And absolutely no suppressants for a year so your body can regulate itself again else you want your return heat wrecking you as badly as a broken bond,” his doctor, a man that suspiciously looked similar to Colt and Falco sans surname, had said to him like he could be an unruly child himself. Despite his usual gruff demeanour, he means well and always asked if Eren wasn’t being mistreated by other patients or staff. 

“Eldians go through enough. I don’t need our own mistreating each other under my watch.” Doctor Arden had said. 

For as many terrible people there were, there were just as many good ones. He tries to not scream during the worst of his spiraling self hate. 

Meanwhile, mission wise, Eren lies in wait and slowly observes what all Marley had to offer through the next few years or however long Marley will stay preoccupied with the Mid-East Allied Forces…

…While single-parenting a baby.

And keeping said baby a secret from both Zeke and the Survey Corps. 

Was Eren being a little too paranoid over his child? Probably. Given how his government oh-so-willingly started looking at Historia like she was cattle for the fifty year plan, Eren wasn’t giving anyone any benefit of the doubt.

He has found himself snapping at one too many nurses who offered to take care of his child within the first half year, to which he would begrudgingly apologize later for. They regarded him with pitying but understanding looks that Eren would huff sorely at. His unbonded status also didn’t help things judging by the one too many looks and sneers on his ability to raise a child without an alpha. He usually minds his own business and doesn’t care for anyone that also minds their distance. 

Besides, it only takes one warning to get a message across. 

It was a nice sunny day out in the courtyard, around a few months into his stay at Liberio Hospital’s mental health facility, and most of the stable and willing patients were escorted out to enjoy the weather. 

“Hey omega.”

Eren was lounging peacefully by himself on a quieter bench against the hospital wall while gently rocking Carlan in his sling when an unkempt patient, a recently admitted soldier, sauntered up to him. Eren doesn’t flinch or give them a glance when they hunch over and leer too far into his space, making Carlan warble out in distress at the stranger suddenly in their midst.

“Don’t you want a nice alpha to-”

Eren gripped his crutch and stood abruptly, shouldering the man in the chin in his force getting up- interrupting the offending bastard and making him bite his tongue hard. Using his surprise against him, Eren then grabbed the man’s back collar to slam his face into the brick of the hospital wall next to them. The shifter ignored the crumpled man and looked around, pleased to find that anyone who noticed kept quiet.

“Ah, excuse me! Nurse?” Eren called out, “A patient is slamming their face into the wall again!”  

Said patient was dragged back sniveling, bloody, and shrieking into the wards with a nurse per arm to Eren’s subdued grin. When brought up at his next general wellness check-up, his doctor gave him a side eye but didn’t hide the small smirk at his methods. 

Ever since that incident, he has had fewer alpha’s look his way while he radiated ‘don’t fuck with me or my child’ energy in between playing the doting father and wandering around the wards with allegedly half of his memories. 

This was surprisingly effective in making sure people either kept their distance or focused primarily on his child while he asked innocent probing questions regarding Marley and the outside world. And no one was none the wiser, some nurses and doctors even cooed at how cute they were being when Eren would parrot the new information to Carlan, as if they were learning together while they helped Eren jog his ‘lost’ memories.

The realization of using his son for reconnaissance in diverting attention made him want to throw up and then some after remembering what happened to Aunt Faye. He can't be careless- can’t drag his son into this more than he already has.

Eren knows he’s the worst of the worst- past, present, and future. If he’s not reacting thoughtlessly, he’s committing to the action regardless of how dumb or awful it is and refuses to take anything back. Throws all of his punches along with his temper while he’s at it. He’s the last person to be a titan shifter, the key to anything, much less a parent.

But he knows he has responsibilities to uphold as a shifter, a soldier, a friend, an Eldian, and as a parent.

Before the end of his first year in Marley, Eren also knows Carlan’s got him wrapped up in his little fingers. 

Fingers from grabby hands that have yanked at his hair more than enough times to make him guess why his mom’s hair was styled the way it was. Entrancing eyes that look like they’re always catching sunlight in witnessing life for the very first time. Clear eyes that have not seen the horrors of humanity and Eren prays they never will.

His son’s smiles are the promise of flowers to bloom over battlefields no matter how blood soaked and painful. 

Was this how his mom felt? Eren may never know truly, but he’d like to believe so. He likes to think that he’s a little closer to her as he’s taking care of Carlan, the belief helping him stay relatively grounded during the worst days and the distant rumbling echoes at bay. 

Of course, it wasn’t all smooth flying. The sleepless nights piled up causing the shadows underneath his eyes to get darker and darker, giving him the start of the bum appearance Eren had initially planned for Marley but ditched for Carlan. He kept growing out his hair, and trimmed his fine beard while being well kept. He was not going to accidentally get his son sick because of uncleanliness; not to mention Levi’s inhuman cleaning standards still astral projecting onto him no matter where he is. 

He’s gotten frustrated at Carlan from time to time whether he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him or Eren was too wound up himself, but he’d immediately feel awful afterwards and would instantly apologize and give him any and all comfort he could provide. 

Balancing reconnaissance scoping, intel writing and decoding, his own night terrors, and Carlan’s spontaneous night owl activity made Eren completely out of it some days. One time he freaked out in the middle of his Marleyan text practice when he realized Carlan wasn’t in one of his arms. Thinking he had lost his kid, or Goddess-forbid someone took him, he scoured the first floor of his ward in a sleep-deprived frenzy until a nurse bashfully pointed at the baby resting in the sling around his chest, having been snuggled against him the whole time.

Eren hid his darkened cheeks behind his lengthening hair as he thanked the nurse and vowed to take that incident to his grave.

During the worst of it, Eren unconsciously slipped into little worthless fantasies in the small subliminal moments. Dreaming of a certain blonde taking turns with Eren in caring for their child. How much smaller their son would look against his larger frame. Or how he could be caring for their son, being able to lift him a bit higher, perhaps sit on his shoulders to see more of the world. Eren would immediately shake himself out of those thoughts afterwards feeling emptier than he’d like to acknowledge.

Needless to say, Eren was spread a little thin.

Everything inside of him screamed that he still had things under control in an unwillingness to entrust Carlan to anyone else- not until he’s a little older. 

Much to his reluctance, he did entrust a nurse that’s been helping him with Carlan from the maternity ward as well as the Grice family occasionally. 

It took half a year for Eren to have met with the Grice parents. Though skeptical and cautious at first, they warmed up to him kindly, much like their sons who introduced them through their mails. At first, Eren simply accepted Mrs. Grice’s child raising advice whether or not he needed it – read softly and smile a lot to the baby, let them crawl around plenty to develop muscle and don’t keep them in slings for too long, and cool cabbages or similar helps with teething. They had even lent a few baby clothes for Carlan that Eren makes sure to take care of to return later. 

By the time his first year in Marley rolled around, the doctors were planning on releasing him back into society. Eren surmised that if he didn’t show improvement with his conditions, they’d also deem him unfit to raise a child and would take Carlan away- which was unacceptable. He finds himself calling on the aid of the Grice’s in finding a place for himself and to help babysit. Before he knew it, he’s moving into an old tenement building nearby the hospital so he can free up space for other patients that need it more than him. 

The hospital that admitted him was a little overwhelmed with war patients, thus Eren went up to ask his doctor to ask for a job so he could feed Carlan himself instead of relying on the public canteen food that was handled by strangers. He now was their helping hand, mostly given small chores that he could do along with a second crutch - finally - to help him get around quicker.

At his new job, Eren makes small talk with the soldiers and patients, hearing about their lives over on this side of the sea and where they’ve been in the current war amongst other things. He carefully traverses their conversations, hearing how they move to Marley’s mercy. Some of the more whole soldiers sought glory and expected to return to the frontlines once they’re better– to better perform in hopes of obtaining Honorary Marleyan titles that way. Some others were too far gone in either mind or body- or both- to function without aid. 

Sometimes, Eren sadly thinks that it would’ve been much simpler if they all had been just monsters. 

While those days would send him home either fraying at the seams in fiery rage or as an emptied out husk, there would always be golden eyes and eager babbling at the end of the day waiting for him. Carlan always perk up and smiles the moment he senses Eren coming to pick him up and return home together, causing the remnants of his heart to mend itself back together for the evening.

The box of an apartment he moved into was shoved between an extended family to one side and a widow to the other. The room’s walls buckled like its life was being squeezed out of its very existence, the walls revealing the barest hint of a curve with discolored plaster work running all along the water stained surface. Fortunately, there were no cracks. So as long as it remains stable and he has better sun exposure than his dungeon room back in the scout regiment, Eren is content.

He’s done his best to build his nest without any experience. He never had the chance to make a proper one throughout his life due to presenting so late along with having lived off of charity after losing Shiganshina and then becoming a cadet. The shifter during his younger years just settled for protecting his personal belongings and scenting his assigned bed space. 

At some point midway through Training Corps, he had the luxury of a human heater for the colder nights. Adjusting back to the lack thereof has been a pain and a half. 

He slowly made something nice for Carlan. He deserved that much with the first year of his life spent in Marley rather than Paradis. Off white curtains to filter in warmer lighting to combat the daily, dreary overcast of Liberio’s weather. A sturdy crib set near the bed. Some decent and lesser propagandic picture books for storytime. And as many sheets and pillows he could get his hands on for pillow fort purposes because he had wanted to try that ever since Connie introduced the idea one night after training when the cadets were recounting their sibling adventures.

From what Eren could tell from Carlan’s laughter in response to his completely improvised picture book storytelling in their makeshift pillow fort under a pitched blanket tent in bed, he’s doing something right as he laughs along with his son. 

With keeping in contact with the Grice’s, the brunet somehow also found himself in a penpal exchange with Colt and Falco, mostly Falco with the occasional paragraph from Colt. The young blonde shared their recent exploits without going into too much military detail and in return Eren filled him in on whatever he’s been up to. 

“I hope you and Carlan have been safe and well Mr. Kruger! We’ve been exhausted lately because of how many more tests they’re making us do since there are fewer titans to inherit! But we are surviving and giving it our all!” -F

“I hope you’ve all been safe as well. That sounds like a lot. Don’t forget to take care of yourselves. As for me, Carlan has somehow taught me that if he pulls on my hair, he wants water. Or if he chews on it, he wants food.” -K

The stark contrast between content was both grim and oddly humorous but it seemed Eren’s bit of normalcy helped in some way judging by how ardently Falco writes and how freely he expresses himself in his letters. Not like Eren didn’t mind the painless nature of it either, being an older stranger Falco saw that was far enough removed from his own struggles to be able to share so openly toward, whether for a different lens or because he was simply someone that hasn’t given him the same answers all his life. 

Eren read and listened. Reassured whenever he felt the need or provided an anecdote from a “book he’s been reading” or “something another war vet told him” and totally not from his own memories in the military.

Inevitably, Falco would eventually start writing about his friends and fellow warriors. 

How they’ve been comrades since they were young. Ran through rain and mud being barked at by instructors since they were nine. Striving for the same goals of proving themselves to be good Eldians and doing their best in lifting up each other and their fellow families and loved ones. The things he liked and didn’t like about each of his friends, listing grievances followed by lengthy admiration along with a whole passage expressing how he basically had a crush on one of them without stating it outright. 

Eren looked at his own past few years in words from another child on another side of a war, the bitter familiarity of it resonating in his soul.

He didn’t have much in response to those letters, just solemn confirmation veiled beneath gratitude in Falcos’ willingness to share and a quip to the more interesting stories. 

While he can’t tell Falco of his own friends, at least not in any detail, Eren does recount them to Carlan. 

He tells him about how Armin has the most curious mind and can recall the tiniest details. The protective and doting Mikasa and how strong she is. The surprisingly level headed leadership of mama’s boy Jean and his horse shaped face. How Marco is a saint for corralling them all like children. The respectably selfish and selfless nature of Historia. How Sasha just knows where to find the best food in town and how Connie tells the best-worst jokes. 

How Reiner’s lies created one of the most beautiful things in Eren’s life.

Eren doesn’t give himself too much pity in wondering how they’d react to Carlan. He only hopes that they will take care of him well after his time is up.

Chapter Text

The Marley-Mid East war ends after two years.

Eren rereads the bold lettering on the newspaper headline while he spoons baby food for an eighteen month old Carlan. 

Now, that was news. 

No one expected how soon the war would end, if it could have ended anytime soon with word of new advancements in anti-Titan tech from abroad. It was a blessing many rejoiced. The papers sport several impressive articles regaling the strength of Marley’s remaining titans and the skillful leadership of the Marleyan military that someone must’ve held the article author at gunpoint to write. Eren swears he reads two passages that talk about the same exact subject, but with different flowery descriptors to describe the valiant success. He already wants to crumple the newspaper into window pane cleaners before he finishes reading it. 

“I’ll read this properly later.” Get the real news from someone else. 

“Sh-towy?” Carlan questions wobbly, still figuring out speech and the shapes of words that Eren’s been steadily encouraging. He looks up hopefully with his large, sunlit eyes.

Eren smiles at Carlan. “Not this one. Our story time is later tonight before bed time.”

Carlan hums happily at that promise as Eren cleans up their small breakfasts before they leave for the day. 

“This is news- less fun stories, and beyond wordy. For you and me both!” He further explains in between sticking on his scent blocker patches underneath his shirt collar. “The talk of the town, though. You may hear about it some more later from your caretaker today.” 

“Miss Gise?”

The shifter forgoes his crutches half the time in their home with how he’s arranged their furniture, some kind of support always within arm’s reach in between his very graceful hopping that will one day disturb the downstairs neighbors. He bets Instructor Shadis never would have thought that all his ODM balance training would go into this. 

“No, not Mrs. Grice today, remember?” Eren holds up two different tiny coats for his son to point and choose between. Something about developing choice recognition and decision making skills. After his son points at his preferred coat for the day, he tosses on their respective chosen coats. “You’re coming with me to the hospital today.”

It’s all routine over a year in. After morning breakfast, the shifter tosses on their clothes for the day, adjusts their armbands, grabs both of their respective bags, and scoops up Carlan into the child sling against his chest before heading out the door. 

Usually, the brunet would drop off his son at the Grice’s during the work days. They’ve been more than happy to take care of Carlan half the time. Not only did Mrs. Grice enjoyed his little toddler’s company while her sons were off to war, Eren isn’t a full time worker unless new batches of soldiers come in such as today. But today he opted out of intruding on the Grice’s.

Marley’s glorious warriors are coming home, today, after all.

Colt and Falco deserve a warm welcome home. Falco’s last letter was before the final battle on Fort Slava. He remembers the warrior cadet’s eager words, writing how the war was going to end soon and how he was looking forward to coming home and seeing everyone including Kruger and Carlan whenever they were free. Their parents also made the offer to join them for dinner sometime. Eren politely took up the offer but urged the family to enjoy their time together as a family as much as they can. 

The day’s overcast as always. Liberio’s cool, humid sea breeze sweeps on over the wall of the internment zone and tousles Eren’s hair he’s been growing out for the past few years. It’s the longest it has ever been, the tips grazing at his shoulder blades, but there wasn’t a reason for him to cut it as it helped his persona some, and it’s his and Carlan’s secret language. 

The walk to the hospital over the well worn dirt streets was short. No more than fifteen minutes directly from their flat which helps them sleep in a little more in the mornings and preserve a bit of Eren’s energy from walking with both Carlan and his crutches. 

The hospital and all its wings are bustling with energy as he drops off Carlan in the small daycare in the maternity ward away from all the commotion. He hands off Carlan’s bag to the nurse on standby awaiting them and sets him onto the ground. His child starts whining, quiet pitched, tight chords at the back of his throat as he refuses to let go of Eren’s hands. 

With a breath, the shifter kneels down, setting his crutches to the side and stumble-sits onto the ground to pull him in for a tight hug. He runs his hands comfortingly up and down on his back while gently scenting him to help calm down his child’s nerves. Carlan smushes his face into his neck and tries to burrow himself behind Eren’s curtain of hair. Meanwhile, his small hands grab stubbornly onto his coat, bunching up the fabric and the strands of hair also caught in their grip. Eren quietly purrs while the nurse kindly fidgets at the time ticking.

“I know, kiddo,” Eren soothingly coos, methodically repeating the same motions time and time again to Carlan’s separation anxiety. Eren struggles too, wanting nothing more than to spend more time with him, but he has work to do and he needs to prepare his son for the future. 

Eren hums before asking what usually does the trick every time, “Remember what I said about us last night? During story time?”
 

At that, bright golden hazel eyes re-emerge, looking up brightly in recognition. “Hun-tahs!”  

“Exactly. We're hunters- Tackling whatever the day brings,” Eren proudly states, letting the small subdued fire in him flare just a bit in his gaze and grin shared between them to match his son’s excitement for his current favorite story. 

“Nurse Tessa is going to care for you today. And I’ll be back before you know it, alright?” Eren holds out his hands out next to Carlan, letting his son take his time in letting go of his hair and coat.When Carlan places his hands in Eren’s, the brunet pulls him in to kiss their forehead then guides his son’s hands into that of the nurse’s.

“Be good. I’ll see you after work,” Eren smiles warmly, gently rustling his son’s soft, dark brown bangs. 

The maternity nurse holds onto Carlan’s hand while Eren gets up and gives one last wave in his departure. 

“Bye dada!” Carlan waves as Eren makes his way to his designated office to further prep for the day.

The hospital received the notifications a week prior to prepare for the returning soldiers. 

While the papers overstate the success of the war, it incredibly downplays the number of casualties. Eren’s only been working for about half a year, but the batches of injured Eldians only grew in intensity as the war drew on. 

Many are in critical condition filling up the wards to such a degree that they had to set up medical tents in the courtyards to prepare for the soldier’s return. They’ll be all hands on deck for a while as more and more soldiers return from the front lines. Eren continues doing the paperwork and repeatedly filing for additional equipment requests to keep their stock items from being too strained. It’s the least he can do in the face of Marley’s long running flippancy in providing jack shit despite said strain and voiced concerns.  

Eren’s on the floor today, clipboard and pen strung to each other around his neck to collect names.

Soldiers line up all along the hospital hallways in various conditions while more still come filing in, faces downcast or shuffling mindlessly with the flow.

Murmurs are heard between the more lucid patients, the ones without empty eyes and grieving family members hunched over them. Whispers of technology finally catching up to the titan dependent state despite the good news. Because of the brass’ iron grip on their goliath hubris, they’d chosen to protect their titans and further stain the battlefield with Eldian blood. How this was one of the worst campaigns yet, beyond worse in comparison to their previous conquests. 

The bloodbath that was Fort Slava.  

Eren helps process and collect the names of soldiers to file all away. Handling these lives so clinically, Eren’s hands almost move on their own from memory, from cleaning up District Trost and Shiganshina. The taste of the burning pyres still present at the back of his throat. 

Out of the corner of his mind, there’s Jean with no more tears left to cry, left with half of his soul over the comatosed, corpse-like body of Marco. His partner laid so still from his fractured head and missing eye, holding the other half to their whole. No one believed he would make it through the night. 

Passing another room, there’s another scene in another corner. Levi and his silent vigilance over Commander Erwin after recovering him from Shiganshina. While he didn’t stay at his mate’s bedside for long to return to his duties as if nothing ever happened, the silent grief could be felt by all the team members.

No one believes either of them will ever wake up. 

The rest of his day proceeds the same until he clocks out. He’s by himself in the break room tossing his work jacket into his locker when Arden comes in grumbling and running a frustrated hand through his short blonde waves, “If I have to hear another shit asking why a sassy, lost child is playing doctor, I swear to Ymir- ” 

The doctor amusingly has one of those faces that made people question whether he was fifteen or thirty-five years old, when he’s, in fact, about to turn thirty-five in another month.

“Have you considered growing a beard?” Eren absentmindedly asks, not the first time being at the end of Arden’s complaints about his patient’s comments over his cursed, boyish appearance alongside the half jealous coworkers begging for his secrets in keeping said appearance.

The alpha quips back after downing his canteen and a caffeine pill to help him soldier through the rest of his much longer work day going into overtime, “And ruin my good looks like you? No, thank you. At least I know my sorry excuse for facial hair does me a disservice.”

Eren’s “sorry excuse of a scruff” does exactly that, and it’s doing its job splendidly in making sure he was unrecognizable and that eyes are kept off of him, thank you very much. 

“Ah…” apprehension slips into the air, an uncommon tone for the otherwise self-assured doctor when he produces a letter from his bag. He takes a breath and looks away, “This is for you. Someone didn’t want their baby brother to miss his birthday in the evening .” 

The brunet slowly turns to Arden and blinks at the code from Zeke being uttered from an otherwise unsuspecting individual paired with the message that would confirm his and Zeke’s first physical meeting after their spur-of-a-moment confrontation in Shiganshina two years back. The memory of his brother’s vow to save him is drowned by the following desperate screaming through broken teeth and Bertholdt’s cries afterwards.

“Just to be clear,” the doctor continues, “I have no interest in whatever this is. I’m just passing along a message. Now, take it before I toss it. I have other things that need my attention.” 

Eren quickly does so and slips the item into his own bag. “Since when…”

His gray-peridot eyes narrow in recalling his past, not quite answering Eren’s half formed question. “My old man was a Restorationist. Long story short, the idiot got sold out and the whole family suffered for it until Colt, my cousin, was essentially sacrificed for Warrior candidacy. I was too old for the program then, too aware and too physically inadequate for them to mold into their obedient weapon-plaything.” 

The doctor readjusts his slipping armband in the middle of his statement, muttering about how useless the piece of fabric was. His tone remains bored as if the history he was sharing was something he had for dinner last week. “I kept in touch since they like to use the hospital occasionally and his gramps works in another building. While I have nothing against them, I’m not interested in getting involved- I just make sure nothing more than letter passing is happening here.”

“I see… Thank you,” the brunet hesitantly says. 

He snorts, “Don’t. I should be telling you to drop whatever this is. Be careful, won’t you, and don’t give me more headaches?”  

Arden walks out flippantly without looking back, not caring for Eren's response. And truthfully, Eren wouldn’t have had one.

“Mister Kruger! Carlan!” 

“Falco,” Eren greets the fourteen year old welcoming him brightly to the Grice home. He can hear twin greetings from their parents from the kitchen as he's escorted to the dining table. 

It took two weeks for Eren to find time to have dinner with the Grice’s in between his hospital shifts and his intel work. The brunet takes note of the arm in a sling and a large bandage patch on the candidate’s cheek. His injuries don't deter his energy as he looks even more enthusiastic at Carlan curiously and staring questionably at the blonde boy. 

“It’s good to see you in person again after all this time! You both look good! And, Carlan, you’ve grown so much since I last saw you!” the warrior candidate exclaims as he leads Eren to his designated spot at the dining table where Colt greets them from his chair with a crutch of his own for one of his bandaged legs.

“Yo, Kruger! Look, we’re matching now,” Colt chuckles in a gesture. 

“Can’t say you’re working it as good as I am,” Eren scoffs with a crooked grin as Colt dramatically acts offended. 

“Wanna say ‘hi’, Carlan?,” Eren gently coaxes the quiet toddler staring wide eyed at familiarly unfamiliar people.

After a beat of silence, Carlan manages a small wave tucked closely against Eren’s chest, “Hi.” 

Falco affectionately waves back while Colt teases, “Shy little guy isn’t he? Hi Carlan, I don’t know what your dad’s told you about us, but we promise we don’t bite! We can’t even function at our best at the moment!” Colt splays out both of his hands presenting himself to further exaggerate his statement and visually entertain the toddler.

“What even happened?” Eren asks as he settles in.

The older brother sighs with a defeated smile. “It was a couple weeks ago. I was running in between trenches, scouting and delivering news as usual, when I saw Falco was down. But when I was carrying him back, an artillery shell landed right behind us and launched us into a trench. We made it safely but the fall injured our respective limbs, unfortunately.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you got."

“Oh, we know. It’s just that I was doing so well ‘til then. There goes my pristine performance record,” Colt whines half heartedly.

“Says the man that’s already guaranteed the Beast Titan before the war,” Falco rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics before throwing Colt further under the metaphorical carriage right in front of Eren and Carlan. “He drank himself sick on the train ride back home from self pity and celebration. Being the lightweight he is, he was practically dead weight when Mister Galliard carried him into the station. Then mom and dad had to carry his hungover butt all the way back home.”

“We deserved it after surviving the war, and how could I decline a whole bottle from Pieck?” 

“You’re shameless.”

It was an affectionate back and forth between the brothers. Eren can see how they switch their brotherly roles with ease– one sometimes being more responsible than the other. 

When their parents finally join them with the main entrees, the evening plays out pleasantly as they retell their stories from their time apart. Eren courteously offered his simpler stories from his current job, Carlan’s first words, steps, and favorite stories while Colt and Falco offered stylized retellings of their mad dash between artillery shells. While Eren’s heard most of it through their letters, the nuance of tone and relaxed laughter from the comfort of their own home can never be captured by ink. 

“So you’re inheriting the Beast Titan, Colt?” Eren asks as their meal winds down. “Despite being a beta?” 

“Yep! Beat out all the candidates from my class,” he proudly states. 

Falco mumbles from his seat, “Lucky…”

Sensing the energy leaving the boy’s spirit, Eren tilts his head towards Falco. “Something the matter?”

“Oh no- it’s just… I haven’t presented yet and- I’m afraid it’ll impact my selection since… Gabi has already presented as an alpha,” Falco admits with a hint of nervousness. 

Arching a thick brow, Eren asks what he already knows, “The candidate program can make exceptions based on performance, though, correct?” Eren pointedly glances up at Colt for any additional support.

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Colt supplies with a wave of a hand, meeting Eren’s gaze to then look at Falco. “Just keep doing your own thing and they won’t even glance twice at your secondary gender like me and Pieck.” 

Falco only makes a small agreement to what he’s probably heard a hundred times. Eren contemplates his next words while absentmindedly brushing down his son’s unruly cowlicks. 

“I didn’t present til I was seventeen… Sometime three years ago, I think.” 

“That’s quite late but- hey, wait-,” Colt realizes in shock, “You’re only twenty?!” 

“Yes?” Eren looks curiously up from his son.

“I thought you were older, not a year older than me…” The beta rubs the back of his neck and looks embarrassingly away.

“Wow, thanks for calling me old."

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Colt huffs.

Eren gives a small smirk at the older blonde brother before settling a softer gaze on Falco. “Everyone thought I was either a late alpha or beta and didn’t bother with it til I presented. But by then, I was already doing… Whatever it was I was doing.“ 

The brunet looks back at Carlan and strokes their soft cheek. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was part of it. While Eren remembers wanting to be an alpha growing up just to have that extra status against bullies to protect his friends better, that want fizzled out during training when surviving the grueling course was more important than who was what. 

“I don’t remember much before the war, but I do remember the feeling of doing what I needed to do. You don’t get a choice in how you came to be or what you’re born with, but you do get to decide what you do with what you have. You decide if you want to see what you’re keeping yourself moving forward for.”

There were hums of acknowledgement all around the table while Falco went through whatever revelation he found through the brunet’s words. The evening meals wind down and the table talks ushers into general happenings and simpler post meal subjects. 

Falco eventually starts playing mini-games with Carlan such as hide and seek or tug of war. Falco attempts a new expression every time he reveals himself from his hands in their hide and seek, and lets the laughing child grab a hold of his hands to drag whichever way he so desires for tug of war. Colt has a warm glint to his eyes whenever he glances over, the same peridot color as the rest of his family’s. As a thanks, Eren tries to teach the younger brother’s name to Carlan. In the end, his son proudly states Falco’s new name as “Coco" because "Fa'co" was a little too much of a recipe for disaster.

By the time Eren decides it was time to go, the streetlamp lights are streaming through the curtains. 

“Let me walk you home.” Colt offers getting up and following.

The brunet arches a thick brow from the door. “With a broken leg?” 

The blonde shrugs good naturedly. “Gotta keep in shape somehow.”

Eren thinks he’s a fool if he thinks he’ll be fine on the return trip. But he lets the man follow him out after he thanks the Grice family for the good evening, and promises to visit more often outside of dropping Carlan off for babysitting. Will he follow through with that promise? Only his guilty conscience knows.

Liberio’s nights made his skin sticky and raised in goosebumps from the cool season’s air mixed with humidity. Eren shifts his shoulders and winces at how his clothes and scent blocker patch dampen and cling to his skin. Eren tucks his son closer to his chest to shield them from the chill while the two crutched individuals walk the relatively short distance to Eren’s flat, passing other veterans in similar conditions. An easy silence falls between them as Colt settles onto Eren’s good side, keeping himself in his unbandaged peripheral vision.

“I don’t plan for him to inherit it.” 

Neither of their steps miss a beat to Colt’s quiet admittance that Eren almost missed with how quiet it was uttered. The brunet widens his eye momentarily, surprised at the statement as he keeps his gaze trained forward and patient. 

“I never wanted him to join the program to begin with. I didn’t have a choice. Either my entire family faced treason charges or I dedicated myself to redeem them. Falco didn’t need to follow… But he was so insistent, so passionate when he said he wanted to. How could I stop him?” Colt continues with a weak mirthful chuckle. “So I let him. There wasn’t much I could do during the trials. I watched him struggle and go through the same things I did. Saw him make friends and excel in things I never dreamed for him to learn. We celebrated when he made it into the candidacy…” 

The brunet glances to the side, observing the wistful gaze of the man limping along the dirt road, scuffing his crutches with each step. 

“You compromised.” Eren observes. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I did.”  

“What happens when you finish your warrior lease?” 

“Maybe use my influence and hopefully War Chief rank to transfer him to a safer branch before that happens? Falco’s smart, hardworking. Maybe maintenance, engineering- R&D.” His voice shuffles, throwing the last idea in a way like he’s still working through his war plans mentally. 

“...And if you can’t?”

The wind whistles lowly in their ears as it filters out the distant life of Liberio’s night scene. Clinks of glasses and rowdier laughs filter dully through the concrete building walls all around them. It’s a small shock when he hears Colt forcefully answer.

“I’ll find a way. He deserves a long life. He doesn’t need to be caught up in this mess. This never ending cycle…” Like he’s punching the words through clenched teeth in a silent vow. However, he backtracks quickly after the last sentence with a nervous laugh and quick lookaround, putting back up his usual charisma. 

“Aha- Forget I said that last bit.”  

He won’t. Eren understands with his soul.

They arrive at the building Eren lives in, the warm glow from various smudged window panes lit the street as muffled sounds of laughter or shouting could be heard from within. Colt turns towards Eren with a set face, his lips thin and brow set. 

“Which is all to say, that while I do appreciate your support, please don’t encourage him any further,” his brows furrow while a pitying smile barely reaches his eyes. “How would you feel if Carlan grew up and was further encouraged to charge straight into hell?” he says while gazing at the bundle curled up tightly against Eren’s chest. A subconscious hand curls itself over Carlans’ head, to protect on instinct– a contrast of feelings churn in tandem within him. 

In a distant memory, there’s a dull clink of dishware paired with the savory smell of his mother’s stew as Mikasa’s ratting him out and his mother is crying for his father to convince Eren to reconsider joining the Survey Corps. 

They bid each other good night with Colt patting Eren’s shoulder then turning and heading home. He makes it a few steps before Eren calls out to him like the fool he is who still can’t keep his empathy in check despite all of his own self-designated caution signs. When he turns around, a silver iris regards peridots, softened by the dim lamp lights.  

“Good luck.” 

“Bye, Col!” Carlan parrots with a small wave to the surprise of both of them. 

A softer but wider smile stretches Colt’s lips for him to return the wave and finally go their separate ways. 

In the dark room of his nest, Eren sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his leg swaying and buckles him back first against the front door, a jumble of memories blurring his vision. While it’s been almost two years staying in Marley, his emotions still claw up his insides, his inner child cursing him and the world a new one while witnessing the horrors he’s yet to commit. Horrors that've been steadily growing more and more frequent. 

There’s sorrow and heat shriveling at his fingertips while the edges of his sights darken from smoke and flames. A hissing steam choir rings his ears, the first and only warning call before the rumbling of a thousand footsteps echo louder at the far edges of his mindscape.

“Dada?”

Eren breathes in sharply, forcing his brain to refocus onto the present. The quiet of his apartment. The dark room. The cool, solid door behind him. 

The distress emanating from his pup in his arms. 

Wide golden eyes stare up in worry as small hands tug and swings his hair strands trying to get his attention. The brunet brings a trembling hand up to hold Carlan’s much tinier grasp and feels his soft beating pulse. His free hand steadies himself on the apartment door and he grounds himself back into the humble home he’s made. Eren swallows the lump in his throat and shoves down the sensation of burning steam.

“I’m here. I-,” He stutters between breaths, forcing the air to clear the fog in his head. “Da’s just- just stressed, that’s all kiddo.” 

Eren regards his son quietly for a moment before sighing softly. Colt’s words are fresh in his head as he tries to imagine his son in his shoes, joining the Survey Corps or sacrificing himself for the sake of his friends. 

“I’d be an even bigger hypocrite if I held you back from whatever you wanted to do, huh?,” Eren croaks in surrender. 

Carlan blinks upwards, not understanding his dad’s rambling, but he swears that his son can see straight through him and read his soul regardless. What would he even do in that situation? 

“...I think I’d definitely give you an earful. Not unlike what your grandma would do, probably. You’d probably get sick of me making sure you knew all the risks before I tell you to go show ‘em what you’re made of. Show ‘em that you’re my kid and that I support you- that I’m proud of you every step of the way.” 

Then he imagines Carlan getting into reckless fights or doing something he clearly shouldn’t have done.

“So long as it's for something reasonable,” Eren quickly amends, “You’ll get no mercy from me if it’s you’re doing something dumb.” He gently pinches Carlan’s cheek causing the child to chirp in surprise and confusion at what the hell his dad is going on about. 

“Still, don’t let others or even me stop you from doing what you put your faith in,” Eren says with a gentle smile and soothing hand over the pinched side of their face. 

It’s not like Eren expects Carlan to remember any of what he says, or any of their time spent together. If anything, it’s been selfishly for Eren’s peace of mind. Better to impart his words now than never, because this moment is all they have.  

The shifter picks himself off the front door he wound up leaning heavily against. “Now, why don’t we get ready for bed and prep for story time, hm, little hunter?” 

Shakily, Eren does just that. Carlan doesn’t ask, already thinking about his favorite activity and not old enough to understand the level of crises Eren’s going through. And hopefully, he will never understand the sins his father carries. 

For now, he’ll tell stories to his child, let his words paint fantasies late into the night for the both of them to get lost in and pass out next to each other in bed, their worries to handle another day.

“Now you’re starting to look like father.”

Eren blankly looks up from his spot on the hospital bench at the alpha that had walked up to him with, dare he say, a skip in his step. 

What gave it away? Was it the hairstyle or the hint of a beard that hasn’t been that well kept recently? Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation bruises creeping up under his eye coupled by the weight of existential dread. Neither of the two brothers care to know the answer as they wordlessly replace themselves into a more secluded and private courtyard behind the building Eren’s been working in. 

The sunset saturating Liberio’s skyline warms their faces on the wall they’re leaning against. It’s nothing like the vibrancy of Paradis. There, Eren’s eyes can easily water just from staring at their fields lit up as gold as the very setting sun. In Marley, there’s a natural smog, a dim filter that dulls the intensities of its golden hours. A dullness Eren’s taken in stride and internalizing into a weapon during his time here. 

Zeke starts casual and easy, “First of all, thanks for meeting me all this way, though you got here a lot earlier than expected.”

“I felt like seeing how the other side fared. But we’re not here to talk about that, are we?” Eren keeps his tone flat, practically dead to the world, will be dead to the world, letting the weight of responsibilities neutralize his voice. This is a business talk after all. A business of war and the fate of their people.

Zeke pauses for a moment, mulling over how to start. They’re brothers, they mirror each other, neither moving an inch from the wall they’re leaning on with a few feet of space between them. They gaze out into the same city, another city with walls and two individuals with powers – curses – beyond anyone’s comprehension. They’re standing as equals.

As equal as Eren makes it look like they could be. 

“Yelena’s told you my thoughts. Do you support the Eldian Euthenasia plan?” 

Without looking at him, Eren recounts to him that day underground, when iron dug into his tongue and wrists, stringing him up as an offering within crystal caverns. When he broke down and his view on life, his own existence, shattered once more. Electric pulses forcing his body to take in memories and sensations of another, feeling both familiarity and revulsion clash inside until the events engraved themselves into his synapses. His muscles and skin pulled taut over experiences that never personally happened to him but are as personal as all he’s lived through. Phantom experiences he can recall to this day. 

A slaughter. A dead family. The continuation of a bloody tradition. And an end to a centuries old oath at the hands of their father.  

When Zeke asks if Grisha was right, Eren tells him everything his brother wants to hear. The Eren from that cavern speaks this truth. How they were all mistakes just waiting for salvation. 

“Can you say the same for your kid?” Zeke asks, his tone casual like he’s noting the weather. 

“Especially for him.” Eren says evenly. “Is there a problem?”

Sneaking out in the middle of the night to scope out Liberio, getting rare permits either from Zeke or by himself to leave the internment zone on occasion, agreeing to come over to Marley and into Liberio in the first place. Eren’s made sure he’s done everything to prove his dedication, regardless of his son. 

“You’ll have to forgive me. You come here agreeing with our particular plans while having a child yourself is a bit contradictory.” Zeke admits with a light chuckle that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“An unexpected miscalculation.” Eren corrects, keeping his features blank, his breath steady, and his growing irritation at bay. Zeke at least has the decency to look mildly surprised at the fact. What Eren doesn’t appreciate is the look of veiled pity afterwards. 

“I will do it,” Eren declares with conviction. He’s shoving himself off the wall and turning to face Zeke to make sure he sees the determination in his eye when he speaks his answer with certainty, the answer that can be found from any version of him across his memories, “I’ll put an end to 2000 years of Titan rule by my very own hand. And I will keep moving forward until that day comes. Right, brother?” 

The sun catches Zeke’s dull gray eyes as they soften in affection and affirmation before he fixes his glasses and the sun’s glare covers his gaze. 

“Of course. Let’s do it.” 

They wrap up their agreement, their deal, with a small game of catch– Zeke’s specialty. Eren tries to catch the ball, but he wordlessly fumbles and lets it drop to the ground. 

“Ah...” Eren feigns, “I’m still not used to this depth perception.”  

He’ll never have the perception to see Zeke's shit plan either. A reasonable and logical one, sure, but Eren’s too selfish to accept it.

He bends over carefully to pick the worn ball back up in the beat of silence from Zeke. Eren leans his weight back on his crutches and throws the ball back to Zeke, the man wordlessly catches on instinct. As insistent as his memories can be, there are finer details he doesn’t see such as certain reactions and exchanges Eren makes in his trek forward. Hopefully, his brother is appeased enough from their short interaction and doesn’t care enough for his private life to focus on their agreed plans. 

The blonde inspects the sphere in his hand and holds it up against the setting sun that’s almost disappeared past the horizon.  

“So when am I gonna meet my nephew?” 

Eren blinks before the statement really registers. This man’s audacity. 

“Don’t you have a disinterest in children?” 

“Just because I want euthanization, doesn’t mean I don’t want to meet another family member of mine.”   

Eren narrows his eyes ever so slightly, but Zeke holds up his hands in defense. 

“So as long as they’re not a liability to our plans, I have no qualms with whatever you do in your private life,” his brother replies professionally. He starts fidgeting with the baseball, turning it around and about in his hand before giving it a few light tosses into the air above him. “You should also be careful what stories you’re telling him though. Marley has a list of approved children stories for Eldians, you know.” 

Of course Marley does. Eren doesn’t know which to be offended at first, Marley’s ridiculous extent of control or Zeke’s advice. But his child’s safety came first, and he looks at him with his silvery eye, wondering just how the hell he knew about what stories Carlan heard. It couldn’t have been Arden. Outside of general physicals, they don’t talk much about their home lives with each other and he claims he’s not directly involved. Can’t be the Grice’s either. Unless they were that daring, they can’t have been involved again after their treason allegations. Which only leaves one person. “The nurse…”

Zeke gives him a small smile in confirmation. Right, Zeke and his surprisingly far-reaching web of spies and informants of Restorationists. 

“She was someone that I realized already worked nearby. I asked her to keep an eye on you two just in case.”  

The brunet scoffs, “How considerate… And Arden?” 

Zeke looks away briefly, but brief enough to show his discomfort in acknowledging the doctor. Was that also disappointment Eren hears when the man utters, “…An old acquaintance.”

He returns the topic to their initial point of interest, brushing aside the brief uneasiness with a brotherly air of whatever he’s trying to achieve in making sure Eren doesn’t get himself into unnecessary trouble. “I’m not joking though. You should be careful with what you tell your kid. They’ll interrogate you over something as little as mistold fairytales.” 

Not like they would be staying in Marley for much longer for that to be a concern. His son’s two to three semblances of words won’t give anything significant away and Eren’s going to keep telling his own stories that are ten times better than any of Marley’s militant brainwashing. He’ll just reconsider mentioning any of them outside of their home. 

“I’ll think about it.”

There’s been a lull in activities in the following weeks, a lot of major developments for their plan in progress are guaranteed to finish at their designated dates. Zeke’s been slowly progressing with his own agenda while Eren’s waiting in between tasks for the time being. 

Eren had read his latest letter from Yelena detailing the Survey Corps and Paradis’ latest developments in technology and trade, and couldn't help but feel proud at how hard they’ve been working on trying to find a way for Paradis to stand on their own. To find a way to not rely solely on Zeke’s plan and a work around to the Azumabito's monopolistic nature. Prove to Eren the future he sees can still be challenged despite the futility of it all with everything still going according to fate – outside of his own personal happenings that is. 

He ignored the near crippling ache in his chest at the last letter’s postscript. 

The Levi squad misses him, according to Yelena. A small consolation from her now that they’ve entered the waiting game for their plans to come to fruition, and any further letters from Paradis will dwindle significantly in place of other areas of development. Eren thanks her and curses her. 

No matter. It won’t be long til he’ll see them again if his memories’ increasing intensity were anything to go by.  

Zeke took this time to pull some strings to get Eren a shift at the Eldian medical ward at their military base outside of the internment zone. He’s now on a rotation with a few other rehabilitating souls handling inventory and filing papers at the storage house situated at the back edge of the base. The place was more like a large closet or a collection of sheds filled with various items that gets tossed there haphazardly to be forgotten and to be managed by just as forgotten individuals. Perfect for him to find moments to slip out and slide unassuming letters through the Marleyan letter stacks without it getting flagged for inspection.

On one hand, Eren’s thankful for the break from his more extensive sneaking around. Carlan has finally reached the dreaded toddler stage of not wanting to go the fuck to sleep at certain hours and his shadowy eyebags are so bad, he doubts his own shifter regeneration would get rid them. 

But on the other hand, to truly test the limits of Eren’s capabilities and restraint, his new shift starts at the ass crack of dawn, and Eren itches to punch the lights out of his brother. 

It’s ideal, technically. Barely anyone’s awake from either their late night shift or they’re still waking up for their morning shift thus the shifter himself can remain unassuming and sneak around with no problem. But he’s also still waking up too, damn it. If the omega hasn’t formed a dependence on the drink called "coffee" yet, he’s definitely developing it now. 

Was this potentially Zeke’s personal vendetta against Eren for his lack of family-get-together plans? The shifter wouldn’t be surprised. However, stubbornness runs in the family and Eren has little to no interest in indulging Zeke’s sorry attempt at being big brother and uncle of the year. Maybe he’d have a fraction more sympathy if he hadn't decimated the Survey Corps in Shiganshina.

It turns out that the warrior candidates and him share the same break block at the mess hall.

“I didn’t know you worked here!” Falco had noticed him resting in the shade against the side wall outside of the building and excitedly bound up to him once he refilled his canteen and got his snack. Eren thought he could stay relatively out of sight, but the boy has keen eyes.

“Recently transferred. Will be here for the time being managing the medical storage.” 

“Really? I didn’t know Marley would offer something like that to- Ah, excuse me.” A platinum haired beta politely amends herself after a glance at Eren’s crutches and missing leg.

“Any other country would leave them out on the streets. Quite literally. It’s what the last country I was in did.” A bespectacled boy comments. 

A loud young alpha proudly launches herself into the conversation, “That’s Marley for you! Offering opportunities to even the most downtrodden of us!”

Eren breathes steadily through his nose, holding back his own scathing comments towards Marley, especially to Gabi’s blind patriotism, and keeps his expression neutral.

The brunet easily matches each of Falco’s descriptions of his friends to their respective owners. They were all distinctly unique and Falco enjoyed talking about them enough to have informed Eren of their respective attitudes. Eren stands awkwardly over the teens taking their break in front of him and Falco rubs the back of his neck, like he didn’t mean to drag them all with him when he decided to drop by. But there the gaggle of them are, chattering away in the shade with him.

Falco gives him a sheepish smile. “We’re not bothering you are we? We can go if needed.” 

Eren shakes his head, noticing it’s just them there at the present sans whoever their supervisors were and Gabi’s spitfire, almost self absorbed, conversation topics keep the focus off of him. “You’re fine.”

The shifter blames Yelena for his unwillingness to extract himself from his current situation. Eren should keep his distance, make sure he doesn’t hurt them when he turns traitor. But he also dearly misses the company, nostalgia blooming and taking root from the chattering of close friends. 

The candidates all jump from topic to topic as is their attention span as kids no matter what military training they’ve undergone. They take to Eren’s presence like he was a part of the wall and he was happy to just hide his misery and mind his own business while they carry on in their own world, occasionally meeting Falco’s glances with his noncommittal head tilts or hums. 

Eventually Falco asks worriedly, “Are you sleeping alright, Mr. Kruger?”   

“That noticeable, huh?”  

“You look like those drunk guys who would start a losing fight at a bar,” Gabi states after scarfing down her ration bar snack. Eren gives her a pointed stare at the comparison. 

“I’m still adjusting to my new shift schedule,” Eren reassures Falco at least with a small smile. “Plus, my son’s finally at the age where he’s defying a sleep schedule so I sadly also haven’t been getting much sleep as of late.” 

“Ah, that sounds rough.” Falco physically winces at Eren’s struggle. The brunet shrugs. 

“Perks of being a parent. Appreciate your parents or caretakers at home.” The kids all sound off simple agreements to Eren’s reminder. He takes another gulp of his lukewarm acid of a wake up elixir, the caffeine not kick-starting his system fast enough to his liking. 

“More coffee then perhaps?” Zofia kindly suggests. 

“If they’d let us have more than two cups, I would’ve already taken the whole pitcher.” The two cups per Eldian rule was complete bullshit. Eren didn’t even like the disgustingly sour, bitter drink but their chance to stave off an ounce of drowsiness was too good to pass up.

There was a look in Falco’s eye that Eren should’ve paid more attention to. It was so subtle, he would've missed it if not for the contemplative hum the young boy made. But no, Eren had shrugged and bidded farewell to the candidates after their little break came to a close. Some of them claim they’ll see him later, much to Eren’s dismay. While Eren tries to make sure he stays out of their way, according to Falco, their breaks do overlap every other day in his daily attempt to get more coffee in his system. Unless Eren wants to pass out on his feet, it’s guaranteed he’ll bump into them again. 

For Falco though, Eren’s suspicions come to light when Falco finds himself in the storage room where Eren worked with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Falco, no.” 

“I have an extra daily refreshment ticket I don’t use some days. It’d be better used for you than letting it go to waste, since they don’t stack,” Falco reasons with a gentle smile while lifting the item in question in hand. Eren wanted to shake some sense into the kid and then walk himself into the ocean because he’s taking advantage of his generosity. The child was truly too kind hearted for his good in spite of the military he serves. 

Eren sighs loudly before saying, “Just this once. I know I’m situated pretty far out. I don’t need you to spend what little time you have for breaks for this. And go use all your tickets on yourself or your friends.” 

Of course, Falco doesn’t heed Eren’s words and comes back again the next day with a cup in hand. To Eren’s pointed reminder on who he should use his tickets for, he simply flashes his boyish grin and speaks openly. “You’re my friend too.”

“I meant the other candidates.” he mutters, begrudgingly accepting the cup to hide his soft gaze into the drink itself. Besides, he didn’t get a wink of sleep and he wasn’t going to waste the cup Falco brought. 

That’s how the brunet finds himself having a third cup of coffee every other day thanks to Falco. He doesn’t stay for too long since he still needs to make the roundtrip back to their training grounds, but they make some small talk and share any news between their families. Mrs. Grice apparently already misses Carlan since Eren’s new shift has him dropping him off at the hospital’s care center instead of disturbing the family at four in the morning. Falco’s cast-less arm along with Colt’s healed leg are both doing much better and the candidates are happy to be active again.

It became a simple routine. Just a simple mutual transaction of coffees and the stories of the day that Eren gets too comfortable with.

For all of Eren’s experience and foresight, he should’ve known better that routines are never set. 

Eren could sense Falco walking his way towards his assigned storage location before he arrives. One of Falco’s morning breaks happens in the middle of the last stretch of hours before he gets off shift in the afternoon. He makes his entrance known by his near-musical knocking pattern on the open shed door. 

“Hi, Mister Kruger!”

“I swear, Falco, you’re going to get in trouble one of these days.” Eren lightheartedly chides loudly enough so he could be heard with his back facing the entrance as he scribbles down the number of bandage rolls a crate contained on his clipboard.

“Someone’s vouching for me today!” 

“Is that so?” 

“He offered to come along today to make sure I don’t get in trouble.”  

He grimaces. While that’s nice of them and all, the fewer who knew he worked here, the better. Hopefully they were some lazy guard that won’t remember his face.

The second pair of much heavier footsteps registers to Eren, but that’s not what he hones in on. He tightens his grip on his pen the moment Eren’s nose picks up on the second scent past the smell of coffee in the distance and the surrounding sterile medical equipment. It’s faint but it’s there— something sweet with pine and leather notes with a hint of smoke. It is – was – a warm woodsy, amber scent that presently falls flat with whatever negative emotions they’re currently feeling with a tinge of metallic.

A scent that despite all of its changes, remains the same one that haunts his memories. 

No. 

The scent of late night rendezvous underneath starry skies on a hill overlooking the nearby lake of the training barracks. Of uplifting advice and stalwart guidance to complicated combat maneuvers or general health checks. A reassuring hand in grasp or running up and down his back, helping him through personal, painful, vulnerable moments. And later on, the scent of easy heats and ruts shared over trusted camaraderie turned into delicate affection. 

At least- the illusions of it all.  

No one else would have this scent.

He’s turning towards the door as combat boots pull the rest of its person into frame. 

Hazel, gold eyes widen as the alpha’s rugged, chiseled features contort in shock and recognition at the omega standing a few meters away – fear, pain, and anxiety bleeding thickly into his amber scent. The scent that belongs to the very same man who had helped anyone in need and provided steady and unwavering support. The man that had once held most of Eren’s attention, and that he’d trusted and shown his heart to. Who then betrayed them all and left Eren to pick up the bruised and battered pieces of who he was in Paradis.

“Eren .”

The man who Eren had hated with all of his being two years ago. 

“Reiner.”

And the man who is also the father to his child. 

Chapter Text

Reiner has been an ever-present afterimage in his mind ever since the man left Paradis. 

Even before the medal ceremony, before Eren’s view on reality upended itself, Eren’s seething hatred for Reiner wavered no matter how much he had tried to hold on to it. Sorrow and confusion waged its own war within him, tempering the flames of rage and vengeance. It didn’t stop him from moving forward. 

He had to kill him , he had said. Reiner betrayed them. That day atop of wall Sina, after Eren heard his confession, he still gave him an excuse out, an excuse to stay – You’re tired aren’t you – And Reiner still chose the world beyond instead of them. Instead of him. He chose to be a warrior, his enemy. And Eren had to do his job as a soldier and kill his enemies. It was clear cut. It’s his logic. It was what they deserved.

But he soon realized, just like his own responsibilities as a soldier, Reiner as a warrior must’ve felt like he had to make that choice too. 

When future memories took their own places inside of Eren’s skin, he was forced to see all the lives surrounding him including his reduced to chess pieces with their own reasons as to why they moved the way they did. When each and everyone of them was seen as a means to an end, did the grief finally hit him at full force. Quietly, but ruthlessly in the way he swung between numb pain during council meetings and silently screaming and crying himself to sleep some nights. His grieving started once they made it to the sea and he wondered if Reiner once saw the expanse like he did. If he was also blinded by his responsibilities of what laid across the waves instead. 

Eren has spent more time than he wants to admit thinking about the soldier-warrior, the person. Not the partner. Because if he spent any more time thinking about that aspect of what they had been, his emotions would implode on himself. What happened in the past between them in their private lives miserably pales in comparison to Eren’s devastating future. 

A future that depends on the both of them to play their parts; For Reiner to live and for Eren to die. A future that doesn’t care for what they were or could’ve been.

Through memory pieces does Eren come to the same conclusion over and over again for the both of them– feeling sick over and over again and teetering on the verge of an abyss made up of stars, sand dunes, and a tree calling his name. The afterimage of Reiner slowly sharpened with each conclusion until he understood why he did the things he did, and why Eren would walk in his shoes and run further beyond.

Because it’s through Reiner Braun does Eren Jaeger see himself in the mold of a cruel world shaping each and every thing they've said and done. Through his world weary eyes, does Eren see his own reflection stare back at him. 

They both look like shit. 

And Reiner has his coffee.

“I… Didn’t know you two knew each other,” Falco tentatively says, reading the subtle shift in the room.  

Without breaking their eye contact, Eren slips a finger down the edge of a paper on his clipboard and gives himself a paper cut. He lifts the injured hand up in a mock greeting, flashing a warning to Reiner. 

“We’re friends that lost touch with each other in these past two years.” Eren keeps his voice soft, but pointed in his statement,  daring the alpha to contradict him. Fortunately, Reiner hasn’t completely lost his senses and doesn’t need to be prompted any further as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to nod to Eren’s story.

“I see? Oh- Mister Kruger, did you hurt your hand?” Falco worries. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’s just a papercut… But It’s good to see you made it back home, Reiner.” 

And Eren meant it. After gaining back his own hometown, and then living in Reiner’s for almost two years, he gets the importance of home. He still doesn’t see what’s so great about Liberio from what Eren remembers from Reiner’s wistful hints when they were cadets. But home was home, right?

When Reiner barely makes a sound, Falco clears his throat. “Then, shall I leave you two to catch up?” 

Reiner looks at him expectantly. Eren twitches the corners of his lips up in the smallest form of a smile he can muster to Falco. “If you don’t mind. Thank you for the coffee.” 

Falco looks mildly reassured by the small gesture, but doesn't bother either of them further – or his instincts are doing its job at warning him of the baggage the two older men have that he should avoid at all cost. He bids them both farewell. “I’ll see you both later!”

Neither of the two speak for a while after the candidate leaves. It could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been hours with how Eren’s trying to calm his mind, rummaging through any help from his spotty attack titan memories for this moment. 

The blonde has changed as much as Eren has, but not enough to where neither of them couldn’t recognize each other instantly. 

He’d grown taller. Still larger than Eren, but less of a difference compared to when they were teenagers. With how his jacket still has some room left for him to fill, he looks like he has lost weight. His hair is still that soft, wheat field gold, but grown out, dull, and slightly unkempt just like the stubble of his beard. The angles of his cheeks and jaw have grown sharper and the hollows under his eyes look just as bruised as his. Was that the start of crows feet outlining his eyes at the tender age of twenty three? Will all those lines cave in once he reaches the end of his remaining life span in the next few years?

“Eren,” Reiner chokes. The brunet suppresses a shudder at hearing his real name on Reiner’s tongue again, almost forgetting how it sounded after so long under a borrowed identity. “How did you get here?”

“Is that seriously the first thing you want to ask me?” 

Eren is running on too little sleep to have a filter for that kind of question. And the man himself is still rigidly holding onto his coffee.

Reiner must’ve noticed his intense stare at the beverage in his hand and goes to carefully set it down on the stack of crates currently being used as a makeshift table. 

“Then why are you here?” Reiner attempts again after a deep breath. 

“Sorting inventory.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Reiner blinks before startling, “The medical supplies- You’re not-”

“No,” Eren quickly cuts him off, “I’m not tampering with them. Just taking their stock and arranging them. You can check after if you’re that paranoid.” 

Reiner scoffs at his jibe, eyes wide in disbelief and his scent continues bleeding distress. 

This… Wasn’t exactly the reunion Eren had imagined. He had planned for something much more straightforward, to both judge and reassure the both of them, and provide a sink-or-swim situation for Reiner right before triggering his own plans. Not something so… Anticlimactic in the back of a storage room.

This all must be doubly bizarre to Reiner. There his enemy is, placidly organizing their inventory. If he was in his shoes, Eren would’ve already throttled him just for the absurdity alone. 

The warrior audibly swallows, perspiration forming on his forehead, “And the real reason why you’re here?”

Eren sighs. 

“The same reason as you.”  

The warrior takes a shaky breath, eyes darting to and fro trying to keep Eren in his periphery and handling the turmoil that’s raging within him from the dots connecting in his head. 

“You… Back then, you vowed to do everything you can to make me suffer and die in the worst way possible. Isn’t that also why you’re here?” 

Oh. Truthfully, Eren had forgotten about his words. Their screaming match in the trees is eclipsed by his new perspective on top of everything else he’s learned. While the pain of broken trust and betrayal tore him to pieces, it was nothing compared to the grief of a thousands year old favor. 

“Ah…” Eren bashfully looks to the side. “Forget I said that. I don’t feel that way anymore.” 

Silver eyes return back onto the larger man, taking in how he’s crumbling inwards. Hazel eyes start to unfocus from their surroundings and his hands tremble, clenching and unclenching, while his breath comes out uneven.

“Why?” he croaks hoarsely, “You have every right to hate and kill me.” 

Eren blinks at the shaking man and his unsteady legs, and then offers for his sake, “We should sit.” 

They sit themselves facing each other on sturdy crates that act as makeshift stools. Eren had quietly closed the door to the storage shed so they both could have a bit more privacy. They lean forward, elbows rest on their knees. They’re sitting as equals now that he’s not an ignorant boy anymore. 

Reiner looks at him, his glistening eyes refocused through the exhaustion from his slouched position. Eren stills his own shaking hands by clutching at his crutches. With a deep breath and a good look at them both, the brunet starts slowly and patiently, setting the tone and pace for their long overdue conversation. 

“Ever since that day, when you broke down the walls, I wondered why all those innocents had to go through something so horrible, why they got eaten alive. I didn’t understand a thing back then. Why was my mother eaten by a titan that day, Reiner?”

Why did I let my mom die? 

“Because… We destroyed the wall.”

“And why did you destroy the wall?”  Why am I going to destroy someone else’s walls and more?

“It was for our mission. To take advantage of the disorder and infiltrate the walls and to see how the king would react.”

“And what was that mission?” What was it that you wanted? 

“To obtain the Founder and save the world.”  

“I see…” Eren concludes.

And there it was. Honorable and responsible Reiner doing what was told of him ever since he was a child. Responsibilities a child should never have to make. That’s where they differ. Where Eren can draw the line between his selfish intentions and Reiner’s duties as a warrior.

“If you did it to save the world, you didn’t have a choice then, did you?”

Eren pushes onwards and doubles back to the former point.

“It was true. I did hate you and wanted to kill you. For a time, I saw everyone across the ocean as my enemy. But then I crossed it. Slept under the same roofs and ate the same meals as you.” He’s sympathetic and internally scoffing at his own actions when he admits the following, “Reiner, I’m doing the same thing you did all those years ago. Of course, there are terrible people here, but just as good ones as well. That’s when I realized… Over the sea. In those walls. We’re all the same.” 

Eren got to see awful people, the ones who jeered at him and pushed and tripped other patients. But he also got to meet people like Falco and Colt, good people who saved and helped him and his child off that battlefield and afterwards. They were all just people. 

“But you were all taught that the people in those walls were a threat— that we were devils to you, Eldians on the continent and the rest of the world. Drilled into young children who knew nothing of the world by adults who knew nothing themselves. What could a kid like you have done?” Eren sadly recounts from all that he’s learned. Just as all the Eldians within Paradis were manipulated into believing they were the last of humanity, he and Reiner were taught their respective lies that perpetuates a destructive cycle ensnaring them all.

To then live amongst the enemy and learn they’re all just humans like yourself takes its toll in the midst of war. To feel compassion for people who have lives and dreams not unlike yours is the bane to a soldier’s soul. 

His silver eye solemnly regards golds, “Reiner… You’ve been suffering all this time, haven’t you?” 

We both are, aren’t we? 

“No!” 

Reiner explodes, his face twists into such a grief stricken expression, Eren’s hands clamp down his crutches to suppress his surprise, and further clamp down on his omega wanting to offer comfort to the grieving alpha before him. He stays still and listens.  

“You’re wrong, Eren!”

Reiner falls and grovels onto the floor, tears now flowing freely down his face and his voice wrecked in pain. 

“That day- when Marcel got eaten, Annie and Bertholdt wanted to give up the mission and go home. But I forced them to keep going. Part of it was self-preservation. But I wanted to be a hero! I wanted to be respected! It was all my fault your mom got eaten alive! I can’t stand this anymore…”  

Ever honorable and responsible…

Eren holds his breath at his outburst, stunned at how far Reiner’s taken his guilt. He looks down at the familiar sight and at the words he’s also said once. Once when he was blaming himself for the death of Historia’s family in a bloodied crystal cavern. And further back when he felt like he was nowhere near accomplishing any of his goals against a setting sun at Reiner’s feet. 

How, in the same vein, he is going to force Reiner and his friends and family into a much bigger war that they never wanted – not as a hero but as their devil that will selfishly put his life in the hands of his loved ones just so he can preserve their lives and their future. 

Reiner sobs through gritted teeth, “I want to disappear. Please, kill me.” 

The stretch of silence is broken up by Reiner’s choked whimpers while his words slowly sink into Eren and resonate with answers he has come to closely hold against his heart. Eren closes his eye and smiles sadly for the both of them. Steadying himself on his crutches, the brunet stands and holds out his hand to Reiner like he once did for him all those years ago.

“It’s alright, Reiner.” Eren says gently. “Get up… I get it. ”  

Reiner sobs his name quietly, confusion clear in his expression. He slowly reaches up and takes Eren’s hand hesitantly with his own clammy and callused ones while blinking owlishly in disbelief. Eren grips his hold firmly and warmly. 

“It’s just as I thought. We are the same, you and I. And I think we’re all born this way.” 

He coaxes him back onto his feet with gentle tugs, and Reiner follows heavily and dumbfoundedly. 

“I won't kill you. I don’t want to and I don’t plan on it. But I will keep moving forward… I think you still can too.”

Reiner’s caught off guard at hearing his own words as Eren’s mantra as the brunet slowly lets go of his hand.

Wordlessly, Eren watches Reiner to make sure he isn’t losing himself to his thoughts again. Only when Reiner seems to mull over his words with even breaths does Eren return back to his work.

There’s still plenty of missing pieces and loose ends between him and Reiner, pieces that Eren is convincing himself to let be. Whatever they had never existed but the least Eren could do is give them both some closure on their past to move on properly. At least for the war they both have found themselves on opposite sides of, Eren needs Reiner to know that he doesn’t want him dead nor suffering any longer from things that were inevitable.’

His coffee had gone cold and tasteless by the time Reiner left. 

When Falco drops by again, Reiner is also in tow. A repeat of last time, with Falco leading the charge and Reiner equipped with his coffee, in which this time, he politely hands to Eren with a twitch of his hands before quickly stuffing them into his coat pockets. 

He still looks like shit, still a little nervous with how he averts his eyes for the most part of his company. But he does look mildly less stricken than before which is a step in the right direction. The wall next to the entrance becomes the warrior’s watch point as he leans against it to observe Falco and him over an open crate of painkillers. 

“Did you two have a nice time catching up?” Falco asks innocently right off the bat.

“We did,” Eren half-lies and glances at Reiner, intentionally holding his gaze with an unspoken request. “Reiner helped fill me in on what I still have trouble remembering, like how we met.” He loudly sips his coffee and waits for Reiner’s turn.

The warrior slowly breathes in through his nose and responds smoothly after a second, “It was during the interim towards the end of the Paradis operation and I was reacclimating back into Marley and military regimen. If you remember, Falco, while you and the candidates were with Pieck, I was sent to train with the newly drafted troops before having to return to Paradis to wrap up the operation. Kruger was a part of one of the units.” 

Not a bad story. Vague enough to build upon if needed, but can stay as is with how briefly they met. Eren will run with it. “We talked over how homesick we were before we were sent off to our respective fronts.” 

Falco is none the wiser, eyes glinting with mini-stars in admiration at the two adults in the room. “I’m glad you two managed to meet again! Here of all places too! What were the odds?” 

What were the fucking odds, indeed. Not like his odds didn’t increase when he befriended Falco and Colt, and then getting transferred into their military base post war when all of their soldiers are called back home. No odds whatsoever. 

They move on to simpler topics like Falco’s new training regime and the struggles the candidate faces with it. Eren keeps his comments to himself outside of the usual non committal ‘hums’ or ‘ah’s’ just to indicate that he was indeed listening and to not give Reiner any assumption that he’s in some way indoctrinating or sabotaging Falco for whatever reason. It’s not long until it’s time for Falco to make his way back to the rest of the candidates. Reiner stays in his place watching the boy leave and stews in silence once it was just him and Eren in the storage area.

“Your story telling is still impeccable I see,” Eren wryly says when the blonde made no move to follow Falco and remained in place.

“I never took you to be one yourself.” His voice was still scratchy and wrecked, crackling like a shovel half-heartedly scraping against pavement.

The brunet shrugs. “I had practice.” 

Mainly with Carlan but Eren’s not ready to drop that bombshell yet, if at all. Who’s to say Falco or any of the others haven’t already spilled the beans and Reiner just hasn’t brought it up yet? The thought gives Eren a small internal lurch in panic before brushing it aside– if he brings it up, he’ll address it then. But right now, Eren doesn’t know if he’s still in danger or if Reiner will be a danger- if not to him, then to his child.

“You know that makes you my accomplice now, right?” 

Reiner softly mumbles, “If they find out.” 

“If they find out…” Eren slowly echoes and props himself on his elbows atop of the edge of the crates stacked up to his chest in front of him. “I’m surprised they haven’t yet.”

After the hell-chase that was both the fields outside of the Titan Forest and the battle of Shiganshina, there’s no reason to believe that Reiner, the dutiful ‘ Shield of Marley ’ Reiner, would let him be. It’s been several days of relative peace with nothing out of the ordinary much to Eren’s dismay but he hasn’t let his guard down yet. His letter of compromise is ready to be sent to Zeke at a moment’s notice.

Additionally, despite his very vivid glimpse into the future, these past two years have been spotty at best. Eren’s technically on his own navigating unknown waters with the compass that is the conclusion to his memories. Who knows what Reiner will do in this interim before Eren raise hell.

“...Eventually, they will.” Reiner mumbles. 

A scoff punches its way out of Eren’s lungs in disbelief and exasperation. “Eventually? You’ve had all this time already. What’s stopping you?” 

He shrugs, finding the adjacent walls a lot more interesting than anything else near Eren. 

Reiner has that look in his eyes, the one where his mind is in other places than from where he speaks, “Curiosity.”

“Cut the shit,” irritation and exhaustion breaking Eren’s feigned monotonous tone, “Just say you’re biding time to find the best way to subdue me without getting anyone else killed in the process.”

“…The offer is still on the table.” 

It sounds every bit wrong, hearing how willing and ready Reiner is to lay in his grave. The difference between the golden soldier of their youths to the worn out warrior of today makes Eren’s gut twist inside out, wanting to obliterate the proverbial offer and table in the most visceral way imaginable. Douse the offending items in oil, light a match, and set it on fire. Burn it all away and use the flames to draw some spark back into those empty, lost somber eyes. Eren hides his thinned lips behind the rim of his cup and downs the rest of his coffee. 

“I’m not taking it.” He crushes the empty paper cup in his hand in one motion. If Reiner leaves him alone, then Eren will do just the same to him. 

He’s gone back to doing his job and finishes counting the third box of painkillers when Reiner speaks again. So softly that Eren barely hears him if not for the quiet room they were already in.

“You’ve changed…” Reiner observes Eren once more from a hunched over form, head hung low towards his tense shoulders. 

Has he? He did get older, and all the physical changes that entails. There’s several lifetime’s worth of memories within his finite twenty year old self. He was given a key no one should ever have, lived through hells that would’ve broken anyone—been broken time and time again. And he’s gotten back up time and time again the same as he ever was despite the changes either in himself or the circumstance— still the same as he ever was since the day he was born.

“Not by much, I assure you,” Eren quietly responds.

Reiner’s head raises to show more of his eyes, revealing a hardened gaze not unlike the armor of his titan when he huffs a question, “Since when were you one to take back your words?” 

There was an edge to his tone—accusation—that nicks at Eren, but it barely scratches the surface. While it was instinctual to answer a blade with a blade, Eren has grown and learned new ways to answer challenges. After all, blades, as Eren has witnessed, do nothing against armor.

“Since I realized I don’t have to hold onto things I don’t feel for anymore.” One of the very few times Eren will ever rescind a vow he made, but one he knows for a fact he's changed his stance for.

“But what I’ve done-“ 

“I’m well aware of what you’ve done. And my present answer is still the same,” Eren impatiently snaps, rendering the shed quiet once more.

Eren heaves an aggravated sigh and turns away to peer into another crate to take its inventory. Eren trusts the man will get it eventually. But his body tenses at efficient, quick steps bringing the warrior directly into his space, looming over him. 

Two years of inactivity does his reaction time no favors when rough hands suddenly grab him by his front collar and he’s slammed against the nearby wall of boxes behind them while his crutches clatter uselessly out of his reach. His vision swims after the back of his head bounces painfully off the wooden surface, but he quickly refocuses onto an empty, shuttered expression that forces Eren to start clawing at the rigid arms holding him.

Of course – Leave it to Reiner to be a fucking maniac. 

Eren bares his teeth and the fire he’s been containing in the depths within him explodes and kickstarts his slumbering instincts. Blood seers through his veins and awakens unused muscles to strike at Reiner to escape his near chokehold. What his body wasn’t accustomed to was his missing leg, and Eren’s clutching at Reiner, forcefully dragging them down together. They crash heavily onto concrete, knocking the wind out of their lungs, and starting the bruises on their skin. 

They wrestle against the floor in a flurry of flying coats and limbs. Distantly, another stack of crates topple, sending its content scattering in every direction. It doesn’t take long for Reiner to pin Eren’s back against the ground like they were in Shiganshina all over again. For the scarred wounds in his soul to flare like they were never healed over to begin with.

“See, Eren- I haven’t changed. We’re not the same,” Reiner coldly mutters, his scent radiating intimidation and control in the face of Eren’s rising rage, “Is that still your answer?” 

With a vicious snarl, Eren uses Reiner’s weight against him and with a burst of fury, forcefully flips them over and plants his lower body on top of him to pin the larger man down. His stump throbs at the pressure he’s bearing down on it but it gets lost in the devouring flames within him that burns his skin, his eyes, and his trust all over again. He draws his fist back and tucks his thumb under curled, taught fingers in painful familiarity.  

Once. Skin tears open and the flesh gets revealed just like the wounds in his soul reopening themselves in tandem.

Twice. Bones crack sickeningly like thunder, a siren that is ready to consume the both of them should they answer the cursed call.

There’s blood. It’s smudged across Reiner’s broken nose and split lips. It stains Eren’s trembling knuckles. The sour metallic, red scent gets heaved into his lungs with each heavy breath. 

Eren's arm is pulled back for his third punch when he notices. Cold sharp electricity paralyzes him in place, snapping him out of his offensive retaliation.

Reiner is limp underneath him- has been limp underneath him – Since when? 

His arms lay completely still at his sides in contrast to the strength that had coursed through dense, corded muscle barely a moment ago. Silent steady tears fall from closed eyelids down his gaunt face and mixes with the bloody trails of Eren’s hits. The alpha’s initial dominating scent is gone, replaced by a scent so faint and weak, Eren almost spirals thinking that he had somehow killed him If not for the pulsing heart under his grip against the blonde’s chest. 

Eren sits back against Reiner’s chest, looking down at the man who made no moves to heal himself.

“You-… You half-assed, piece of shit ,” Eren spits through his teeth, his fist falling weakly with an audible thump against Reiner’s chest. “Is this really what you want, huh? Provoking me to take your life after I told you that I didn’t want that?!” 

The well of pain within Eren crashes up to his throat like a tidal wave, the current’s ebb threatening to pull him down and make him spill his insides. He takes a deep breath uselessly trying to will his nerves down while his words hang heavily between them. 

It takes ages for Reiner to respond, his whisper as loud as a gun shot in their now quiet aftermath.

“It’s what I deserve,” he whimpers weakly through broken teeth and fresh tears.

Eren sighs, the burning rage within him fizzles into charred remnants, drenched in the misery of the fate that’s fallen onto them. 

He unfurls his hands shakily and lifts one of them to Reiner’s jaw. Eren pauses to hover his hand unsure if his gesture would still be accepted or not, but resigns himself to his sympathy. He caresses his former lover’s patchy stubble with featherlight motions, tracing paths carved into his memory. Reiner flinches at the touch but does nothing else but answer in more tears and his chest shaking with each suppressed sob.

“No. It’s not, Reiner,” Eren tiredly disagrees. The brunet isn’t immune to his sorrow, unable to control the tremble in his own voice. 

Reiner gasps through grit teeth, desperation and pain thickly coating his voice and his scent, “Eren, you were never wrong. I am a monster.” 

“And I said that I’ve changed my mind.”

But from what Eren can see and sense, Reiner is trapped within his own demons, Eren’s voice getting drowned out by whatever’s louder than him in his head. 

By the voices Eren contributed to himself when he didn’t know any better so long ago in those trees. When the world was simply three walls and the blood on his hands– so, so much bloodier than Reiner and Bertholdt’s combined – had yet to reveal itself.  

You’re not even human – he had screamed like the naive child he was…

Fuck it. 

Eren throws caution to the wind and unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt to nudge down one side of his collar. He deftly peels away the one scent blocker patch there and lets his emotions spill into the space between them. Let the sea pull them both under.

Reiner gasps sharply, eyes flying open at Eren’s own sorrow and pain intertwine with his. But there’s something else Eren doesn’t suppress. The same notes he uses to protect and comfort Carlan all this time has been used long before his son came into being. Softer undertones Eren’s always reserved for his closest friends and loved ones. Especially for when Reiner withdrew into himself and Eren wanted to show his support. The unspoken language shared between them that always beckoned Reiner out of the depths he’s lost himself to and back to Eren. 

Slowly, Eren inches down and down towards Reiner. He makes sure the man sees he has every opportunity to push Eren back easily if needed. 

He returns his hand to ghost over his jaw, waiting for a rejection from his tells that never come, and settles them softly over his skin. He brushes a thumb over his tear stained cheeks, careful to not disturb the blossoming bruise there and wipes away tears that have yet to cease. Eren leans the rest of his body down until he’s carefully hovering on top against Reiner with an elbow resting on one side of his head and their eyes trained on each other.

They stare like that for a minute, breathing in each other’s breaths, sharing their scents and emotions, and studying each other intently. When Reiner remains still after their breaths even out and he’s grown to gaze in resignation at Eren, does he close the remaining distance between them.

Eren embraces Reiner. He tilts his head to the side to gently let his longer hair curtain protectively around Reiner’s and tuck the blonde’s head against his exposed neck. 

“You’re not a monster, Reiner. You never were. I was wrong ,” Eren admits, his breath fluttering golden locks. “I never had the right to accuse you of that.“

Just as gently, Eren cards his fingers through his short strands, blindly following old trails of when they were still young and the world felt like it revolved around them. 

“We do what we need to, what we have to, for what we put our faith in even if it’s wrong. That makes us human . You’re human, Reiner.”

Then Eren waits.

And waits…

And…

Heavy arms wrap tightly around his body and makes Eren buckle with a grunt on top of the man, flushing their bodies together. Large hands grip fistfuls of his coat hugging him closer. Reiner digs his face into the juncture between Eren’s neck and shoulder and finally breaks the dam of everything he’s been holding onto for all these years. 

Muffled against his neck, Reiner lets out a long, broken cry. It dissolves into sobs that wrack his and Eren’s body. And Eren holds him tighter through the tremouring breaths—through his pain, his grief, his guilt, his self loathing. He holds him as if Reiner can cry it all out for Eren to take away. 

They lay there amidst scattered medical wrappings, some having unfurled and rolled long strips across the floor. Eren will have to pick them all up and reroll them later, but for now, he patiently holds Reiner for however long he needs him to like he used to do.

After Reiner cries all his tears out, he slowly lets Eren go. They awkwardly extract themselves from each other to rearrange themselves into sitting positions on the floor facing each other. With how wrung out they both looked, both shifters could go for sleeping away a whole week if given the opportunity. Reiner’s puffy, red eyes gaze wearily at Eren while sluggish steam starts to waft off of him. And Eren regards him tiredly with his disheveled appearance and the bandage around his head covering his missing eye coming loose. 

“I’m sorry. For…” Reiner makes a vague gesture towards the space between them and the mess surrounding them, “This…” 

Eren nods. “I understand. I do. Just-... Don’t do it again,” he deliberately doesn’t phrase it as a request, “Unless you want me to repeat myself.” 

Not that Eren wouldn’t repeat how much he wants Reiner to live over and over again, from the top of his lungs if he could, if that can get his point past his dense head. But he’d prefer to do just that, use words and not fists.

“I-… I’ll work on it,” Reiner acquiesces with all the strength sapped out of him. Eren knows grief isn’t a simple road and Reiner still has a long one ahead of him. But so long as he works on it, he’ll have a chance at leaving the hell he’s made for himself.

“So… What now?,” the blonde asks. 

Eren shrugs and breathes a long sigh at the tension that regrows within him, “That depends, Reiner. We’re talking in your home territory now. You tell me.” 

“I… I don’t know…” Reiner swipes at the residual tears clinging to his long lashes before speaking his mind freely, his facade from earlier forgotten, “I can’t let you hurt others, but… I also know that I really don’t want to fight you again, Eren.” 

Eren nods in shared sentiments. They will fight again when the time comes, but not willingly. Until then, Eren will take an alternative decision wherever he can. Honestly, Eren admits, “If it’s of any worth, I won’t do anything unless provoked or… Or if a war is officially declared against Paradis.” 

When war is officially declared. While Eren wanted to keep that information uncertain, Reiner sees and reads his now open scent easily. 

“...You’re anticipating it.” 

Eren looks down solemnly. “With what Marley now knows of Paradis, of me and the other shifters left there, would I be wrong?” 

Reiner furrows his brows to end up scrubbing a hand down his face, sharing the same anticipation for the oncoming future without needing omnipotence to confirm for him. 

“With that said, what will you do until then? With me, I mean.” Eren asks the loaded question and waits.

The warrior sits for a brief moment before looking over to one of the unrolled gauze wraps on the floor. He reaches over and starts to roll it back up slowly and steadily, contemplating over each slow motion to rebundle the strip like he’s reviewing operation plans. Eren follows suit after he refixes his bandages around his head.

“If you’re going to do as you say, then I have no reason to provoke you,” Reiner starts, “It’d be safer for everyone in the long run if we’re not struggling to subdue you… But, in leaving you alone, tell me, should I be expecting the Scouts in other places?” 

“No. There aren’t any Scouts with me or nearby. I’m on my own,” Eren confirms. He pulls himself a little across the floor to a nearby tipped over crate to right it and start gathering the scattered medical supplies around him.  

Reiner scoffs in disbelief,  “Impossible. The Scouts wouldn’t send you here alone.”

“Yeah. They wouldn’t.” 

“No. Then-…” the blonde furrows his brows upon a new realization, “you’re acting on your own?” 

Eren hums. “I’m not obligated to answer all of your questions. But I am alone. You don’t have to worry about an ambush.”  

The blonde looks conflicted and is about to say something until he closes his mouth to let out a sigh instead, “Fair enough…” 

Reiner hands the newly rolled up gauze to Eren and takes a moment to collect himself. He focuses on no point in particular so he can slot new pieces and decisions in his head while Eren keeps his hands busy in keeping his anxiousness to his answer at bay. 

He can see the moment Reiner comes to a conclusion. It’s in the way his shoulders reset straighter and his movements smooth themselves out. The brunet holds his breath when Reiner crawls over to retrieve Eren’s fallen crutches and returns with them. He holds them out to Eren and meets his gaze once more. Golden eyes tired and red rimmed still from earlier emotions, but clear, honest, and focused – a light that Eren hasn’t seen in years glinting faintly within them.

“If you won’t do anything, then I won’t either. If you get caught, it’s on you,” Reiner slowly states.

“Deal.” 

“Truce, then?” his former comrade delicately offers.

Eren breathes, the faintest smile gracing his lips. “I’d like that.” 

Reiner gives Eren a faint smile of his own before Eren grabs for his crutches and stands up alongside Reiner.

The following week is shockingly ordinary. 

Falco continues bringing him coffee though Eren should tell him that he doesn’t need the third cup anymore now that he’s had plenty of time to adjust to his new sleep schedule. In spite of what Eren should do, it’s been… Nice – seeing Reiner taking to delivering his coffee while Falco leads him to and from the storage shed. The warrior grows less withdrawn with each visit  and comments here and there with Eren to Falco’s stories or struggles. 

“Never face away from your opponent, Falco,” Eren lightly chides to the young candidate’s recent tale behind the bandages around his head. He had lost a spar against Gabi.

“Prioritize covering your head if it’s not protected. These are the basics,” Reiner chimes in alongside Eren, just as worried over the boy’s health as he was. Eren surmised they must be close. Perhaps a natural attachment between a warrior and their potential inheritor. A rather grim attachment that raises his hackles and pushes Eren’s creative cursing to new heights towards Marley. 

“I- yeah. Rookie mistake, I know,” Falco sheepishly brushes off rather quickly with a slight flush to his cheeks.  

Eren narrows his silver eye, seeing plainly the young candidate’s feelings get in the way of his determination. The brunet hides the barest hint of a chuckle behind his cup that neither Falco or Reiner misses it. It’s Falco who flushes a darker shade and immediately clears his throat before changing the topic while Reiner hides his curiosity easily.

It’s only after Falco leaves that Reiner questions Eren, “What was that about?”

“Gabi’s your cousin right? Been in the program since they were little?,” The brunet deflects.

“Yes. They’ve been training together since they were nine. I’m surprised he still trips over the basics or hasn’t been able to read her movements after so long…” Reiner genuinely muses. 

“Who knows,” Eren curtly pronounces each word with a sigh.

It seems that being dense runs in the Braun family. Eren remembers his failed attempts at hinting his feelings to Reiner back when they were cadets. He tried to follow the overly complicated and roundabout ways the other cadets confessed, assuming that was how these things worked, but promptly gave up on the useless steps when Eren lost all patience after his third attempt went nowhere. He directly confessed after dragging the man behind the mess hall during recreational hours.

He can’t help Falco here – that’s an answer the young blonde will have to find himself. Eren wishes him all the luck in his endeavors and hopes the best for him, truly. He’s going to need it. 

It’s in between the ordinary that Eren finds himself taking a chance at his own curiosity. 

He still ventures out into the city proper whenever he finds time during work. Oftentimes during the small time frame before the sun fully rises into the sky, but sometimes during the later part of the morning when there’s a lull in foot traffic. He’s developed a knack for finding unassuming places, and timing guard rotations and supervisor check’s in. He slips out quietly and retraces the darkest alleyways and slinks through the passages that keep him out of sight. He blends into a wall here, picks up a disguise there, and listens to the local gossip that naturally occurs at the lowest rung of society. 

It’s through the smaller voices where Eren learned how the city’s pulse beats. Why things happen the way it did, who was where, and how the world spins around Marley, especially the ever elusive Marleyan elites. He catalogs each of these names, places, and news in his head to sometimes ask his brother curiously and see if Zeke gives an ounce to see which pieces were more important than others. Telling him of something he overheard somewhere and seeing if he could pry whatever additional information Zeke had out of his hands for the sake of a different future Eren is still hopelessly striving to find. 

One morning, Eren tosses aside the janitor’s outfit he found for the day and slips back into his workplace much  later than he had planned. He stuck around a little longer at a particularly interesting bit of gossip. It was something he was listening for after months and he’s finally caught wind of what he needed. He made a bet and pushed his luck.

He had betted poorly this morning.

“Well well well. Look who’s back at their post.”

Shit.

He barely smelled the two guards when he was rushing to get back, but now after walking through the threshold of the entrance of his storage shed, he clearly sees two patrol guards lazing about against the crates. His nose wrinkles at the stench of two alphas choking the room. Eren has always had a low tolerance to alpha scents and was beyond picky about them more than others. He barely tolerated Jean’s, he grew up and got used to Mikasa’s, and, to his and his two childhood best friends’ surprise, he unconsciously gravitated to Reiner’s.

These two guards make him want to maim them by their scents alone.

“Hey, you. Eldian. I take it you’re the worker at this post?” One guard who reeked of acrid cigarette smoke leers. 

Eren stands in place and stares at the two guards unblinkingly and listlessly. “Yes,” he simply says, the tone set just as flat as his expression.

Eren carefully eyes the two guards and tries to remember where their posts were and nothing comes to mind. The one who reeked of cigarettes was an average height and lanky, while his lackey was on the stockier side with a bit more muscle to his frame. Their uniforms were the standard dark gray reserved for lower ranking Marleyan soldiers. Which means Eren could incapacitate both of them without much issue if needed. 

“Where’ve you been? We’ve been waiting here for a bit.” 

“Running additional tasks.” 

“Oh? Is that so? You hear that? He was running additional tasks,” Lanky mocks to Stocky in a way that has Eren’s blood boiling. 

Unfazed by his companion’s informality, Stocky responds stoically, “We’ve consulted your supervisor on duty on your whereabouts and they’ve mentioned no such thing for you.” 

“Is there something of concern in regards to my work?” Eren cuts to the chase. 

“We’ve received reports of a scent of an omega within this vicinity. Upon protocol, we’ve been dispatched to remind that all omegas are required to wear scent blockers at all times in Marleyan facilities.” Stocky reports from the handbook glazed into his head. 

“However,” he continues, “At this point in time, we are inclined to suspect suspicious activity for your absence from your post without direct orders from your supervisor.”  

“It was my first time handling a small additional task," Eren attempts in an effort to save himself from the situation, "I figured I could quickly do it and return to my post. I will report all similar tasks hereafter.”

Lanky tuts as he pushes himself off a crate and saunters towards Eren and into his blindspot. He taunts, “How diligent. Obedient even. You should be rewarded for that kind of work, you know?” 

Eren further tightens his white-knuckled grip on his crutches at the direction he’s seeing Lanky take the conversation.

Underneath his mask, Eren’s mind is flying through several scenarios in his head. How quickly can he kill two guards without his leg? How quickly could he kill them while growing his leg? Were there places nearby where he can hide the bodies or should he leave them and ruin his cover and make a run for it? How quickly would their bodies or missing persons be discovered and could he get to his son and sneak out of the city in time and let Zeke know that his cover is now officially compromised?

The brunet doesn’t flinch when he feels Lanky breach his personal space and sneers next to his ear, “Tell you what, we won’t have to report a single thing if you do as we say, omega.” 

He grips his crutches, readying them as his weapons, and turns towards the disgusting bastard-

“What’s going on here?” 

Reiner materializes beside Eren and practically pushes Lanky out of his space with his presence alone. Lanky quickly stumbles backwards as the warrior takes his spot alongside Eren and his scent veils over him like rain, the familiar woodsy and amber scent calming Eren’s racing thoughts. Eren feels like he can breathe properly again and cranes his head up to apprise Reiner of the situation himself. What meets his eye makes him pause. 

Gone was the exhaustion and self-compression Reiner still inhibited during their talks with Falco. Standing beside him is every bit the warrior Reiner built himself to be. Back straight to his full height and shoulders set wide, he takes up the space and then some around him almost brazenly. For a moment, Eren sees the soldier of their days as cadets, but sharper- honed by the much deadlier warrior. 

“Vice Chief Braun. We were briefing the worker here of a report of an omega taking off their scent blockers. Upon arriving, their absence arose suspicions to their activities and whereabouts.” Stocky reports in his infuriatingly placid tone. 

Lanky adds with a lazily bold smile, “Turns out he was on some errands not authorized by his supervisor. You must understand our concern, perhaps colluding with tasks that could injure our great Marley, surely.”

Reiner, however, was not having any of it.

“He was on a brief errand for me, under the immediate clearance of the warrior’s unit,” Reiner covers without missing a beat in a tone that leaves nothing to question. “I was just on my way to make sure he did what he was told and to report his assistance to his supervisor. Is there anything else to clarify?”  

“Oh. I see,” Lanky fumbles, perspiration faintly showing under his officer’s cap while Stocky couldn’t hide his grimace, “May we see the ah-... The- official report?” 

“Officers, are you scrutinizing Marley’s recovery operations, thereby injuring our great nation?” 

“What- no!” 

“No? Surely, with how you’re interrogating the gracious assistance of this worker at my behest in our latest post-war efforts,” Reiner pushes back and takes slow, measured steps forward towards the officers. He puts himself between them and Eren. “You’ve advised him of his faults from your reports and I’ve informed you of his assistance under my authorization. If there’s none else to report, your extended presence here is odd. As a proud and loyal, chosen Warrior of Marley, I have been given the duty to report any and all suspicious activity both Eldian and Marleyan to the upper brass.” 

Reiner stops his slow descent on the officers an arm’s length away from them. 

“Let me ask you once more, are you scrutinizing our recovery efforts and thereby injuring Marley?” Reiner all but threatens.

Lanky tries to work a response through his gaping fish mouth before Stocky saves them from further embarrassment or whatever Reiner just warned them against. 

“Our sincerest apologies, Vice Chief. We acknowledge our mistake in our hastiness and stalwart vigilance in safeguarding our great nation. We entrust the rest of this worker’s reports to you,” the officers accedes. 

“Glory to the brightest star, Marley,” Stocky salutes. His lanky colleague stubbornly parrots and salutes with half the formality, but Reiner only meets their salute and nothing more as he silently eyes them until they’ve left the premises, their scents fading into the distance.

Reiner instantly deflates, all the air in him leaves his body and unveils the exhaustion hidden underneath when his shoulders slump back downwards and his head dips. He instantly turns back towards Eren, his worry creasing his brow and takes a step towards him, “Are you okay? Did they do anything else?” 

Eren himself has been staring wordlessly transfixed at what transpired in front of him. His brain was still processing what just happened, much less Reiner’s concern. He takes a deep inhale of Reiner’s scent and breathes out slowly to reawaken his lungs and snap his head back to the present.

“I’m fine. They just got close, that’s all,” Eren hates the way he sounded so breathless and clears his throat. “What- what the hell was that?” 

Reiner frowns and looks towards where the two guards left. “Officers taking advantage of others and looking for an easy target to paint as a Restorationist. For a bonus to their pay. I’ve seen it plenty of times.” 

While that does answer the nature of their predatory guards, it doesn't answer Reiner's performance and the stark reminder of the multifaceted individual in front of him. Eren's been at the receiving end of that efficient ruthlessness before, but to be, he would dare say, protected by the very thing that once tried to kill him is an experience that sits awkwardly within him. 

The brunet tries to not dwell too much on the mess of emotions within him and comments, “Looks like you can defend yourself plenty too.” 

“I can do it in my sleep. It’s a common thing for us Warriors. We are often tested, sometimes without warning, for our loyalty.” 

Eren wrinkles his nose. No wonder Reiner looked doubly exhausted some days and why he broke the way he did in Paradis. If Eren had to prove his loyalty time and time again with a knife hanging over his head constantly, he’d lose his damn mind too. And this is coming from someone who sees future memories. 

"Where's Falco?" Eren asks in moving the topic forward.

"He couldn't make it due to a test he has to do today. He looked upset that he couldn't drop by so I offered to visit in his place," Reiner rubs the back of his neck and jerks his head to the coffee cup sitting quietly on a crate next to the entrance.

"He's too good for his own good." And so was Reiner.

The blonde hums in agreement.

In the weighted pause of their conversation, Eren tilts his head towards Reiner with a narrowed gaze. “And what happened to ‘if I get caught, it’s on me’?” 

“It still applies.” Reiner simply states. “You shouldn’t have stayed out so late. But for at least the scent blocker incident, I’ll take responsibility for causing you that.” 

Eren thoughtfully hums, eyeing Reiner peculiarly. 

The clench of his heart within his lungs doesn’t go unnoticed to Eren, but it does go unceremoniously unacknowledged. Just because the blonde covered for him once, didn’t mean his trust has been restored. But the comfort and ease of breath it brings Eren was enough for now. He dips his head and hides his face behind his bangs. 

“Sure,” the brunet mumbles. “Anyways, help me air out this place. Those two smelled awful.” 

“Do you... Need me to leave?” 

“...No. Just open the door a bit wider will you?”

“Of course.”

Chapter Text

When Eren was ten, he thought he knew everything there was to know about the universe—like where babies came from. He was completely wrong, as Mikasa would recount now if anyone asked her about Eren’s childish bravado, but it was a child-proof view of the process. A stork carries in a baby in from goddess-knows-where, plops them on the doorsteps of the expecting household, and a family is born. Alongside being an adult and doing adult things like becoming a soldier for Eren, Eren thought that growing up also meant finding the right person and starting a family. Something that was just expected out of ten year olds like Eren who didn’t need the answer to why the season’s changed or how a stork can even carry a baby.

It wasn’t until Eren was fifteen, after a sex-ed class during training corp that he learned there were no storks involved in baby delivery – surprise surprise. It was a battlefield in and of itself of doctors, wet nurses, questionable body capabilities, and hopefully, a significant other after a night and nine months. All, hopefully, safely and by choice. 

It never occurred to Eren that a family was a choice, not an obligation. Eren’s opinions of wanting and starting a family didn’t change. In fact, it reconfirmed his desire to have one.  

He missed his mom and dad and wanted to hold onto more of their memory, the kinder parts of his childhood than their horrific final moments. He wanted to remember them for more than just killing titans. Why wouldn't he want to have a family of his own? To have a smaller version of himself to impart the hard work and love his own parents showed him in the tragically short time they had and show them the world beyond their walls. All of that, hopefully, with someone Eren could see as his other half. Someone he could look at the same way his mom and dad looked at each other that Eren used to take for granted. 

The dream was liberating. And sobering. 

The training corps didn’t teach them the course for nothing. Not only was it to quell young, hormonal teens, to make sure they don’t cause a situation in the barracks. But to also warn them of what would happen to their service as soldiers if they have a child. 

What having a family meant as a soldier. 

The weight of a life, not just in saving humanity, not just in serving the continuation of humanity, but in who you leave behind when fate decides it’s time. Especially if you planned on joining the Survey Corps. 

Of course, Eren never backed down from a challenge. 

He made a vow to kill all the titans, after all. 

He threw himself into training with more gusto than ever as if he wasn’t already giving his all until he practically dropped dead into his bunk bed in exhaustion. He was going to take back the lands from the titans, rid humanity of its biggest pests, then when he survived it all – if he survived it all – start the family he wanted. Show them all he and the Scouts brought back for them. Give them a life free of the walls that have caged them for the last century. 

One step at a time—Eren’s good at focusing. First, he had to train to be strong enough to take on the titans and to protect his fellow friends and comrades. 

In the midst of step one, Eren met Reiner. 

Reiner showed him what it was like to give into dreams, the cost of doing so, and that his future had no room for this dream of his. 

It was also with Reiner that Eren achieved one part of his dream, admittedly, out of order and in the least ideal scenario imaginable. Not that he fantasized about scenarios like these at this point with the time he has left. 

“Kruger? …Uh, Command to Kruger, over?” 

Eren snaps out of his trance of trying to find his answers in the turning of the jam jar in his hands. Eren’s gotten so used to hearing his real name again from Reiner that ‘Kruger’ was starting to slip. He looks to his companion who’s been trying to get his attention. Meanwhile, Carlan’s small hands reach out of his sling – he sits against his chest today – to eagerly smack at the jar Eren’s holding in recognition. 

“Oh. Sorry, Colt.” 

Colt knits his brows despite his smile. 

“Hey,” Colt softly greets, relieved at snapping Kruger out of his thoughts. He keeps his tone casual while quickly glancing about at the market goers surrounding them. It was the weekend, Eren’s usual time to pick up groceries for the week, when he bumped into the beta who was also running grocery errands for his family. Colt happily tagged along with Eren and visited similar stalls along the market trail making small talk. 

The blonde directs a knowing but understanding gaze at him when he asks, “Are you okay? Do we need to sit down somewhere quiet?” 

Eren blinks before guessing that Colt might be concerned for his mental health as a “retired soldier.” The brunet twitches the corners of his mouth in the barest hint of a smile at the boy’s attentiveness and regard. “Thank you, I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Ah,” Colt breathes and relaxes from probably combing through his memory for if Eren had needed that quiet bench. “Well, I don’t know how much of a help I can be, but I’ve been told I’m a good listener if you need an ear.”

Eren hums. 

Carlan, growing impatient, deploys his first round of attempts to convince his dad to buy one of their favorite food items that Eren’s still holding. Big, round eyes turn towards Eren, wordlessly pleading for the strawberry jam that costs needlessly expensive for what it is, in Eren’s opinion and part time wages, no matter how much both he and Carlan liked it when he bought it once before on a curious whim. 

Eren still folds at the speed of shooting ODM hooks to his son’s gaze. 

Colt and Eren continue their respective errands together in the markets, Eren’s wallet a little lighter while his grocery bag is a little heavier than usual. They’ve found a comfortable silence between them, something born from their night walk when Colt confessed his fears for Falco to Eren. Despite Colt’s fully healed leg and being able to walk at whatever pace he was used to before his injury, he stays at a languid step next to Eren, keeping himself always in sight on his good side. 

It wasn’t until they cleared the busier area of the market stalls and they had their dinner breads in arm that Eren humors them both, selfishly and guiltily.

“I remembered my family,” Eren doesn’t-lie by technicality. Reiner is now family to some degree. 

“Oh! That’s-” Delight lights up his face until he turns and sees Eren’s dull expression, “...You know, I would say that’s great that you remember more of your past, but you don’t look thrilled.” 

Eren sighs lightly, staring ahead, “We… Didn’t part on good terms.” 

Colt makes a noncommittal but pensive noise. He looks around before spotting something that catches his attention. He gestures with his head, tossing his blonde locks towards an open and quiet bench nearby.

“So… How about that place to sit down?” 

They both claim the bench, Eren on one side and Colt on the other. Eren’s sitting Carlan comfortably but securely in his lap to give his back a break, and peels off a small piece of bread for Carlan to snack on.

He admits to Colt, “I don’t know how to face them. I don’t know what to say after how we left off… ” 

“This was before the Mid-East war, right?” 

Eren nods.

“Did it have anything to do with Carlan?” 

“No, thankfully not… It was over my involvement in the war,” Eren says, and keeps his eyes sullenly looking at his son. “But they don’t know about him either. And I don’t know if I should reveal him, given the other unresolved topic…”

“I see… That would take up quite a bit of headspace now wouldn’t it?” Colt gazes at Carlan pitifully while his son remains none the wiser to the young adults around him. “Oh, wise little one, what do you think of your dad’s predicament?” Colt playfully asks his son who’s still chewing away at his bread piece. Carlan chirps happily around a mouthful at Colt as the blonde carefully but respectfully ruffles his bangs. Eren can’t help but shake his head at Colt’s antics while weakly holding back a small amused smile. 

“The hell is going on here?” 

Headstrong. Crystal. All bark. Some bite. Jaw…

A new voice sounds from a man stopping several feet away at the foot of their bench. Eren smells him before he sees him; an obnoxious, spatially-unconscious, cocky alpha pheromone that makes the hairs on the back of Eren’s neck stand in defiance. Once he looks up, he spies a green jacket that makes his red arm band stand out louder, a set frown, slicked back caramel blonde hair, and hazel eyes looking confusingly at the sight of them. The warrior’s gaze zeroes in on Colt ruffling his son’s hair before he pulls back his hand to wave. 

“Oh, hey Porco!” Colt happily calls, oblivious to the newcomer’s overbearing scent and stare. Betas have the same sensitivities to scents as alphas and omegas, so either this man is truly oblivious or has grown too used to it. Eren wouldn’t put it past Colt if it was both. 

“Nice to see you out and about today!” Colt continues, drawing Porco out from his study of Carlan and onto him proper. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be running an errand today?” Porco asks with a sharply arched brow, pointedly eyeing Eren like he was an anomaly to what he was otherwise expecting from the candidate. 

“I did!” Colt holds up his bag of market loot before he warmly continues his introductions, “And I ran into my friends, Kurger and Carlan! Remember the omega and baby Falco and I saved on Ceres’ Fields? Kruger, Carlan – meet Porco, our resident Jaw titan!

They both stiffly greet the other cordially, clearly not as amiable or eager to socialize as Colt. Carlan wrinkles his nose and tucks himself closer against Eren away from the newcomer, their scent definitely not to his liking either. Turning back, his child looks between Colt and Porco and manages to hesitantly copy the boy’s wave, probably confused by Colt’s friendly demeanor to a scent he doesn't like but trusting his judgment still. Porco’s squared shoulders at least soften at the attempt from the toddler before walking closer towards Colt’s side of the bench. 

“Sure.” Porco shrugs like he doesn’t care to remember even if he did. “You guys taking a break then?” 

“You could say that.” Colt smiles at Kruger, tilting his head towards Eren, wordlessly asking if he was open to Porco’s inclusion in their initial talk. 

While Eren does feel like breaking into a cold sweat at being introduced to more warriors that he’ll have to fight one day, he sighs in defeat. It’d be more tactful to go with the motions than withdrawing now. Besides, he wouldn’t mind a second opinion. It does take a village to raise a child, so the saying goes. Plus, Colt’s actions and demeanor are achingly familiar. Call Eren sentimental, but it’s been nearly two years in Marley and nostalgia’s been ruthless as of late.

Eren fills in Porco vaguely on his “family situation,” substituting the much greater war between Eldia and the world for their Mid East war. Then simplifying his “family” into one Reiner Braun. How he’s not exactly afraid of disownment or not being accepted, but more so unsure if it’d be a good idea or safe given his time away, not wishing to reopen old wounds.

They’ve made room for Porco to join them on the bench, he sits on the corner's edge on the other side of Colt leaning his elbows on his knees. 

By the end of Eren’s brusque metaphor of a story, Porco sniffs. “Sounds simple enough.” 

Colt looks unimpressed by his friend’s just as blunt response, “That’s it , Pock?”

“You do know who you’re asking, right?” The alpha splays out his hands in front of himself as if he’s presenting himself, and Eren is starting to get a better picture of the walking audacity that is Porco Galliard. “Listen, you ran away from your family due to a disagreement and you haven’t gone back home since, yeah? Kids do that all the time. I used to do it too.” 

“I can count all the instances where it was more than just a squabble with one hand. And, now, you could be potentially diminishing an understandably complex situation,” Colt gently chides.

“I’m simplifying a complex scenario to something digestible- doable,” Porco counters, confident in his method despite Colt’s fond eye roll and a quick, silently mouthed apology for his friend and their established back and forth that screams of years in the making. 

“It’s simple if you make it to be,” Porco finalizes, “If you ask me, just take the bite at the cherry.” 

Eren squints confusingly, his mouth gaping at first. Unsure where to start with Porco's response, he stutters “I- What ?” 

“ Take the chance,” Porco sighs, glaring at Eren like he’s personally offended that he has to clarify. “Who knows if you’ll get another one.” 

He snaps his gaze away and while his brows are still arched in offense, hazel eyes soften towards something beyond anyone’s sights. A sudden phantom weight curbs his agitation as he speaks to something — someone — towards his mind’s horizon, “They may be angry, sure. They may beg you to come home so they can personally yell at you themselves. They may have unofficially written you off as dead. But trust me when I say that a bit of closure is better than nothing.”

Colt places a hand on Porco’s back for a moment, running it up and down in what seems to be a comforting manner for the warrior. The ginger-blonde regards Eren again, giving him a wry smile, “And what’s the worst they can do? Send you a snippy letter that you don’t even have to respond to? It’s not like they can waltz into the zone and make demands of you.” 

Well, that last part is a bit more complicated since Reiner’s already in the zone but they didn’t need to know that. 

“There’s merit in Pock’s words,” Colt softly confirms, ever the compromiser, “Take it one step at a time. See how they feel about you first to see if you’re safe to show Carlan or not. It’s still your choice to reach out, your choice of however much you want to reveal, regardless of what we say.”

Colt’s other hand clasps Eren’s shoulder and connects the three of them together on the bench. “Besides, family isn’t just blood. If they don’t accept you or Carlan, we’ll still be here as long as we’re able along with everyone else you’ve met so far!” 

Porco’s brows twitch. “Hey, don’t drag me into whatever this fall out could be.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Colt chuckles. 

Eren looks at Colt’s hand resting on his shoulder and the open acceptance he’s displayed in Eren’s time here. Shame quietly laps at his feet like waves when he quietly thanks them for their opinions and they move on to other topics with Eren hugging his son closer to him more than usual.

When Eren meets with Zeke again to review some of their plans and for Eren to ask Zeke some questions, he brings his son along. No warning, no preamble — Eren just shows up at their meeting spot behind the hospital, mentally preparing himself for the Uncle-Nephew meet-up Zeke has been silently sulking over since he first brought it up.

With an audible inhale, any professionalism and brotherly formality Zeke had immediately gets pitched and thrown out the window in true beast titan fashion.

“Oooh- look at you! You’re looking just like your mama when he was a bit younger!” Zeke gushes while he stands a good distance away, a little more than an arm’s length so he's not crowding them. His brother is bending down and resting his hands on his knees to try and lower himself below Carlan’s eye level in a failed attempt at not startling his pup. His son is sitting against Eren’s chest in his carry sling, snuggling even closer against Eren and looking wide eyed and mildly perturbed at the stranger’s outburst.  

Eren quietly purrs to ease Carlan. While the alpha isn’t technically wrong in his choice of title, he doesn’t want to confuse his son with a different wording and tries to correct him, “Actually, he first called me dad-”

“Hi Carlan!,” Zeke blissfully ignores the correction in earnest, “I’m your uncle Zekey! Your mama’s big bro! I promise I won't bite!”

Are references to biting just a shifter thing? Or has the humor of the warrior’s war chief rubbed off on everyone he’s met so far? Either way, Eren doesn’t find it funny in the slightest.

Zeke continues gushing, “I can teach you how to pitch and catch in the time we have, and he can teach you- He can teach yooou-” the last word gets drawn out as Zeke tries to think of a good example. “Hm-Whatever he’s good at- Oh, I don’t know. Hey, you’re good at punching right?” Zeke looks up at him to ask.

Eren stammers, not used to his sudden enthusiasm, “I guess, yeah, but-”

“There! He can teach you how to punch people properly for whatever reason you need it! Then you’ll have two ways to show people that you’re not to be messed with!”

When Zeke holds out his hand over Carlan’s head in a small request to pat him, or to at least give Carlan a better recognition of Zeke’s scent, Eren watches his son sniff in Zeke’s direction and utterly destroy his brother. Carlan sniffs tentatively, wrinkles his button nose, and turns away from the alpha with a chirp of distaste at his scent. The alpha’s knees buckle and his hand falls limp to his side while he tries his best to hold back a cry of anguish.  

“Ah,” Zeke quakes, “I see how it is.”

At first Eren wanted to laugh at his brother’s despair until he remembered that this wouldn’t be the first time he faced familial rejection. Granted, a toddler’s rejection shouldn’t weigh as much as the years of Grisha’s torment, but Eren doesn’t want Zeke getting the wrong idea.

The young brother sobers up quickly and holds up his hand to try and stop his brother’s crisis.

“Don’t take it personally. He’s particularly sensitive to scents, especially new ones, ”Eren explains, another aspect his son managed to get from him. “Give him time.” 

Zeke sniffs and pushes up his glasses. “I suppose that can’t be helped.” 

The sun was almost past the horizon by the time Eren could coax Zeke back to their initial reasons for meeting. As they go over further developments on the island and additional tasks for the Restorationists, Zeke’s taken up trying to warm up to his son by entertaining him with his baseball that he waves and tosses between his hands. While Eren has no interest in teaching his son how to catch in his spare time or plans to make time for Zeke to teach Carlan how to catch, he’ll allow Zeke whatever this is that he’s doing. 

“So. How are your talks going with Wilbur Tybee?” Eren asks. 

“I don’t know about Wilbur Tybee, but things are progressing smoothly with Wil-ly Ty-bur,” Zeke comments with a subtle snark. Eren holds back a deep sigh at his brother’s attempt at humor. “He’s still asking for specifics, but soon enough he’ll be working with us.” 

Zeke always gave the least amount of information concerning this Marleyan official. Eren had to guess which official Zeke was talking about at first when their initial letters vaguely mentioned him in the beginning. It’s bizarre how scarce his information about this was in comparison to the other details they’ve discussed with each other. They’ve hashed out airship part deliveries down to the last nail, the most ideal time to announce war and through what kind of occasion, and even different routes to take from the internment zone to the harbor when Armin gets the hint on how to best retrieve them with all of the necessary details carefully planted into his lap.

But for the deal between Zeke and Tybur, whatever those two have been conversing over has been staying between those two men alone. When Eren tried to poke for more details once, Zeke reassuringly and lazily waved him away with ‘leave it to your big brother’ along with something about the absolute tedium that is Marleyan politicking.

As always after revealing nothing for Willy Tybur, Zeke changes the topic. “As for your Ackerman query, I haven’t been able to get access to those studies yet, but I should have the information for you the next time we meet.”

The brunet nods to Zeke’s end of their developing deals. 

“Sooo,” the blonde drawls now that they’ve gone over their agenda for the evening. “Do you need any help with Carlan in any way?” 

“No.” 

“Not even in shipping him back to the homeland? I’m sure Yelena can figure out a neat way to get him there undetected.”  

“I have it sorted.” Eren lies.

There’s only the final draft he’s been mulling over for the past year because he hasn’t thought of a better idea. But it exists and he can depend on Floch’s devotion to not ask any questions. The tricky part is getting Carlan to Floch in a timely manner within a window that draws the least suspicion. And that all depends on when Eren can let go of his son, the brunet knowing full well that when he hands him away, it’ll be the last time they’ll ever see each other.

“If you say so.” Zeke shrugs. “I’m sure there will be people happy to see him.” 

Goddess, Eren sure hopes so despite the pain that courses through him at the thought. He wishes it could’ve been a happier occasion. Reuniting with his friends and introducing them to another member of their pack, personally. But alas.

The omega eyes Zeke’s most recent near gleeful interaction with his son, waving the baseball in small, but excited motions as if he hasn’t shown the same item eight different times, now — trying to win over Carlan and make the baseball he has more interesting than his current playing with Eren’s hair. 

Eren goads, “With how enamored you are, I’m surprised you’ve never considered kids yourself.”

“Well, when you’ve been around other kids for most of your life, especially younger ones, you get your fill of bossing them around in a way.”

Eren lightly huffs in amusement and is reminded of his time with the 104th and newly formed Levi squad after his brief tenure under Captain Levi. 

You are worse than a mom, Eren! — Jean had grumbled at him once after Eren showed him all the cleaning tips Levi had berated into him. As much as Eren nagged at his fellow squad members’ hygiene and cleanliness, he did find looking after them fulfilling – something else he can do on his own to help and ease others’ burdens outside of his more destructive titan abilities. 

The brunet wonders if Jean ever figured out how to properly make his own bed after all this time and if Connie still tracks dirt into the barracks no matter how thoroughly he swears he’s wiped off his shoes.

“Besides,” Zeke comments further, “none of us are related by blood outside of being Eldians. Completely different ballparks.” 

With how eagerly Zeke’s been helping Eren and his nephew, there’s more to Zeke’s statement than what Eren can decipher. Grisha’s piss poor parenting for Zeke speaks in volumes in the way Zeke dodges any and all past references to his own childhood with his blood family. Eren even suspects that paternal titles still trigger the man. And yet he still looks out for his warrior unit in his own eccentric ways.

His brother’s sympathies and unspoken priorities aside, he wonders if he could find out more of the rest of the warriors from the blonde, perhaps, more about a very specific warrior. To know more about how he’s been to help decide his present predicament concerning his child. Nothing more.

“The others, the warriors, do seem to take after you a bit, though.”

Zeke huffs a laugh in disbelief. “Don’t let them hear that! They’ll be so scandalized.” 

“I don’t need to. With how prevalent your bite references are, they can make that conclusion themselves. I’m surprised I haven’t heard any of it from the kids you sent to Paradis during their time there.”

 “At least they were good at something while they were there.” 

“Is that so?” 

Eren wants to punch Zeke for the statement and poor military decision. For the suffering they’ve forced on kids, on their sole returned survivor. But he continues brazenly, “So tell me, big brother, how much has Reiner changed since then?”

Zeke pauses and catches his baseball unconsciously. He blinks owlishly at the brotherly title and clears his throat. “Reiner? Why him?”

“Just wanted to know how the enemy that betrayed me is faring.”  

The blonde pauses and mulls over Eren’s words. He takes a deep breath and sighs, carefully observing Eren from the corner of his muted blue eyes. Nonchalantly, he recounts, “He’s much quieter now than what I remembered pre-deployment. Now, he’s all business and occasional doctors visits. You should’ve seen him when he was a kid- desperate, poor thing. He either was going on loyalty tangents or getting outclassed by the rest of his age group. Heard from Porco that he acted like his brother to you guys according to his Jaw’s memories. How fun.” 

If Zeke felt any ounce of genuine empathy for Reiner, Eren couldn’t feel any. The brunet doesn’t know what to name the ball of unease growing thorns in his chest at hearing Reiner’s struggles being laid so casually – at the meager glimpse of the horrid consequence of being raised as a warrior child in Marley. And the additional comment blurring the soldier that was on Paradis. But Eren latches onto one part of Zeke’s statement. 

“Doctor’s visits?” 

“Yep. Mental health check-ups and physicals. Doctor’s confidentiality doesn’t tell me much, but it refreshes his stamp of approval that he was still fit for service and we didn’t need to expedite the Armored's inheritance,” Zeke says as a matter-of-factly.  

A crease makes its way onto Eren’s brows and he bows his head lower to hopefully hide his perplexed expression. His son continues entwining his fingers through the ends of his hair, creating little knots Eren is used to combing out later. Zeke’s answers this evening doesn’t quite ease Eren’s concerns about the man but it was better than being completely blind to how he should move forward with Reiner or if he should at all. 

“Alright!” Zeke claps his hands together, grinning like an opportunist now that Eren has been silent long enough. “I’ve told you Reiner’s embarrassing baby stories, now tell me about Carlan’s or yours.” 

Eren quickly shelves his affairs and arches a brow behind his bangs, “How would I even remember my own stories, much less share them?” 

“One of your son’s then! It’s only fair.” Zeke haggles. 

Eren huffs out an exasperated puff of air. He looks down at Carlan and simply asks, “Well, it is getting late for you. Shall we humor your uncle with a short story or go home for food?” 

Zeke does a poor job at hiding his bated breath at his son’s answer. Carlan tilts his cute head weighing the words he knows well then smiles widely. 

“Sh-towy!” 

Of course. Eren smiles gently. He should never underestimate his son’s affinity for a good tale even if this time, it was about him and less so of fantasy heroes and fate-defying feats. Zeke tosses his baseball up in victory a little higher than normal at the answer. Now what to tell…

“…So, one time when I was running on little to no hours of sleep…” 

With everything considered, Eren’s proud of having taken care of his child by himself for the most part. He would never say he’s a good parent, barely a decent parent – he really shouldn’t have been a parent with his current situation. But alongside the help he’s received from the Grice’s and the hospital, he's thankful for the chance to be one and to have gotten this far alone. He’s done the best he can alone. 

Despite having consulted both Colt and Zeke in the same week, Eren still feels like he’s nowhere near pulling back from the verge of another crisis that’s not his future memories for once. 

How is he going to tell Reiner that he has a child?

Should he even tell Reiner?

Hey- So, our suppressants clearly weren’t enough as birth control back when we shared our last heat and rut together. Remember? Back when you screwed around with me and then made me feel like an utter fool for falling for you? Well, congrats- you’re now a dad.

Goddess , Eren can be forward, but not that forward and crass with a topic so precious to him. 

That’d be worse than when the warrior revealed himself on top of Wall Rose-

-No, maybe not as bad. But it’s still pretty bad.

Eren slowly and harshly runs his hands through his hair. 

The man has been cooperative so far. They meet every few days, most of the time with Falco. Sometimes it’s just Reiner. They make small talk over coffee that the alpha would sometimes also have a cup of his own to drink with him. They’d talk over miscellaneous topics like the weather or whatever Falco brought to the table- never anything from their past since their last confrontation. And then he’d leave either with the teen candidate or a little afterwards by himself. 

Most importantly, Reiner has been relatively stable both with Eren and according to Zeke. And Eren’s thankful for that.

It seems Reiner has been making good on his agreement to work on not provoking Eren which he’d like to keep maintaining. Eren still remembers the incident with the guards. How Reiner shifted into someone slightly different, similar but to a lesser degree to how he snapped between personalities back during the worst of it in Paradis. While he did defend him against the guards this time, Eren’s still unsure as to why outside of Reiner’s intense sense of responsibility. But will his judgment or memory be affected at the mention of a child? 

Would such information be too much to the point where it destabilizes him once more? 

On a much more dangerous assumption – Would the part of him that’s more partial to his nation use Eren’s own child against him? While Eren highly doubts this scenario, he can’t be too cautious. Reiner did throw caution to the wind that day on Wall Rose and took part in charges causing the deaths of hundreds of Scouts, even though it’s been years since.

“-ren?” 

Additionally, they’ve sort of designated a neutral ground, a sense of normalcy, in the back medical storage room. Eren doesn’t want to disrupt the peace they’ve created there between them. 

Porco’s words ringing in his head, and Eren’s own hypocrisy bears down heavily onto him. He knows the price of truths. Knows the blissful ignorance of living a lie on a cut-off island while the rest of the world continues its violent spin forward. Remembers the pain and desperation at being left out of the loop. Acknowledges everyone’s right to the truth after a century of lies, all the while he holds various truths from his friends. 

He exhales heavily and shakily.

Goddess. How did Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie do this?

“ Eren .” 

Eren whips his head around at Reiner standing with two cups of coffee in hand. It’s just him today.

“Oh.” Eren dumbly acknowledges Reiner. His eye quickly glances to the clock nearby and he hums, “It’s already that time.”  

Reiner looks at him with a sympathetic smile, “That out of it?” 

Eren opens his mouth.

I have a son. He’s ours. And I don’t know if either of us are ready for you to know about him. 

“You can say that,” he exhaustively settles for.

They sip on their coffees in companionable silence, not unlike the ones they’d use to have as cadets. Like when they checked their ODM gears together before weekly inspections. Reiner has kept his position against the wall near the entrance as his assigned spot along with the crate beside him for whenever he needs to rest. Eren lets him loiter, whether he’s there to observe him or Reiner’s decided that he’d rather take his breaks with Eren’s quiet and awkward company. 

Reiner lets the coffee kick in for Eren, and Eren wonders if more caffeine is the answer to his problems. It most certainly isn’t if the shaking of his fingers is anything to go by. Eren fidgets with his pencil in his hand, flicking and twirling it between his fingers. Meanwhile, his patience for his own inaction and hesitancy chips thin. 

He has to test the waters one way or another. 

“For not doing anything to me, you sure wait around as if I’m going to do something.” Eren starts.

“Says the person who’s actually waiting for something to happen.” Reiner dryly responds. “No. You’re lucky it’s so quiet back here. I didn’t know a place like this could exist on this base.”

“So you’re just going to borrow my work space as your personal break room?”

“I’m sure you won’t mind since I’m not doing anything.”

Eren softly snorts at the gall that’s been steadily returning to the warrior. Eren pokes further, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re slacking off.”

Reiner shakes his head and brings his beverage to his lips. “It’s peacetime. There isn’t much to do as military members aside from paperwork and chores.”

Eren trains a careful silvery eye at Reiner when he mentions the next statement, ripping off the bandaid to his reluctance and opening the door to their past once again, “While that makes sense, no- I remember when you found things to do during breaks.” 

Back when they were cadets, Reiner was diligent on and off duty whether it was sorting his gear, taking care of others, or exercising more. There were plenty of times where he dragged Eren off to join his company to act as another pair of eyes to double check his work or to spend more time together over friendly conversation — or finding other uses for their lips other than talking later on in their former relationship. 

Reiner looks down pensively and his shoulders are tensing from their initial relaxed line, but his expression doesn’t shutter. “You could say I was a bit out of it then too.”

Of course he was, thinking back with the knowledge he has now.  But It all made sense—the occasional distant looks, the uncharacteristic odd silences, and the mournful demeanor Reiner sometimes had. All of it culminating to his mind breaking right before Eren’s unknowing and rage-blinded eyes. 

“Do you still find yourself out of it?” Taking another step further, Eren asks precisely but keeps his tone mellow, as if he’s asking about the weather and not trying to keep a potentially wired and trained soldier calm, “I mean, do you still forget instances?” 

Reiner’s sharp eyes flit towards Eren and the brunet holds his gaze, their attention focused on each other. Eren can see the gears turning in Reiner’s head, likely retracing their conversation trail to connect the dots as to how they arrived at this topic and the purpose behind Eren’s questioning. 

The brunet further elaborates to ease his tension, “Just in case I need to know how to explain to you if you forgot why I’m here and the truce we’ve agreed upon, that is.” 

That does it. The tension breaks and Reiner shrinks, a nerve at the edge of his jaw twitches in holding back a grimace as amber eyes crinkle at the edges. Eren counts the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, building up to when he would handwave away his question if the blonde takes too long to answer or otherwise. Eren is just about to do so at the quarter til a minute mark, mouth poised with his excuse when Reiner replies.

“No. I… I haven’t forgotten anything since-… Since then.” He honestly says.

“That’s… Good.” Eren stumbles to say. “Thanks… For- letting me know.”

Awkward and deafening silence descends on them. 

There. That answers that. They can let the door to their past close back up. Let Reiner reground himself back in the present. The blonde doesn’t look at Eren but he holds himself there, shoulders slumped, leaning against the wall. While hints of sorrow laces itself into his scent, he’s not breaking down which is progress. Eren was able to learn about a specific part of their past without triggering Reiner.

And yet, why does the unease in revealing his child remain? 

No matter who Eren has asked – what he’s asked – nothing has settled the questions and doubts within him. It should be simple. Either tell the man or don’t with the given information. How is he over complicating this? For fuck’s sake, why is he more sure on committing the rumbling, committing genocide, than telling Reiner that they have a child? 

Eren feels like he’s the one that’s about to lose it. 

“Bertholdt was always the one that snapped me back. And Annie was done with my shit after Marcel.” 

He almost stops breathing at hearing Reiner reminisce. The man had moved to sit down and set his empty cup on the ground. He leans heavily onto his elbows resting on his thighs when he confesses, voice frayed with the weight of his history. At the mention of their former comrades, Eren furrows his brows and looks back at the crate he was organizing. 

“Is that why you three were split the way you were? Bertholdt being nearby and Annie distancing herself?”

“Yeah.” Reiner surmises quietly. 

Eren glances at him to see how he was faring. Reiner still looks defeated and exhausted with sorrow prevalent in his scent, but the lines of tension in his face and shoulders don't deepen. If Reiner wanted to stay in the past for a little while longer and allow the memories to wash over them, Eren can do that.

 “I’m… Surprised you only got away with being folded in half that one time when you threw me at her.” 

“You and me both,” Reiner mutters with a faint crooked smile, “It still doesn’t compare to when Mikasa threw me aside to confront Annie.”

“You mean when you landed on me and bruised my ribs.” 

“You were more than fine.”

“Yes. But try having someone almost twice your weight thrown on top of you by an Ackerman. Then we can talk.”

Reiner lets out an airy amused breath. “Bertholdt did scold me afterwards for the first instance. Less so over potentially jeopardizing the mission and more so over bothering Annie.”

Eren feigns a mild surprised tone. “Bertholdt? Scolding?” 

While Eren isn’t surprised anymore by how much more initiative their former friend showed in the battle for Shiganshina, this wasn’t when masks had to fall and children resumed their roles as weapons of war. This was when the lot of them were still fumbling over ODM gear and making fun of each others’ progressively outrageous theories of the world outside their walls. 

Theories that Reiner and Bertholdt never took part in as heavily as either the realistically book-backed Armin or the extraordinarily fantastical Connie. But Eren remembers their sentinel and occasional laughter when they decided to join in and fan the flames to whichever story sounded the most absurd.

“He did have a way with words when he wanted to.” Reiner says with a sad smile.

“From all the books he and Armin would pour over, I bet.” Eren agrees.

“Yes…” Reiner's smile wavers and he looks down.

He whispers his growing grief through clenched teeth, “I led them to their deaths…” 

Eren looks at Reiner and sees himself – his own indecision that led to the deaths of Levi’s former squad in the titan forest. And to some extent, he sees his future decision in giving his friends all the reasons to stay on Paradis just to wind up chasing down Eren as he burns away the world. 

After a moment of silence, Eren comments, “...It was still their choice to follow you.” 

The alpha runs his hand over his face, and settles his face in them. “It doesn’t change the outcome.” 

Eren hesitantly sets down his pencil and starts to slowly crutch his way over to Reiner. He tosses away his empty coffee cup and stands at a distance away from him. When he looks up, Eren wordlessly shifts his head to the crate next to him, asking if he didn’t mind Eren’s closer company. When Reiner quietly gestures for Eren to help himself, the brunet carefully slumps onto the crate beside him. 

“The outcome doesn’t change,” Eren repeats while he finds a comfortable place for his crutches, “But they had the functions to act on their own. They could’ve walked away at any point no matter what you said.”

“But they didn’t. There’s no lying that I had forced them, used their fears against them to move forward. But even if they didn’t completely give in to my words, they still put their trust in me.” 

“Didn’t you say it yourself?” Eren regardfully recounts, “Bertholdt looked out for you. And Annie still hovered nearby even with her distance…” 

Reiner peaks a tired, tearful eye past his fingers when he looks to his side toward where Eren is sitting with back leaning against the wall. Wistfully, he faces him with his truth. 

“They… They were right where they needed to be – where they believed they needed to be. If you take on all of their actions as your faults, you’d be disregarding their capabilities. And, knowing you, that’s not what you’re intending, is it?” 

The blonde shakes his head at Eren’s words and quiet tears begin spilling into his palms.

Eren somberly concludes, “We all have the freedom to decide what we need to do. No matter what you said or did, no matter the outcome, they still chose you. Don’t disregard that.” 

Without a response, but with a whimper, Reiner grieves. 

Their quietude in the medical shed is broken up by suppressed sniffles and shakier exhales Reiner buries into tear stained hands. Eren patiently watches him and gradually, inch by inch, debating with himself over his action until the brunet finds his hand gently placed on Reiner’s back. Their shared contact warms his fingers and Eren doesn’t say anything to Reiner leaning slightly into his touch. He doesn’t move his hand in any motion, but does press back in response and keeps his hand securely there through his quivering frame.

If Eren could point the blame anywhere, he’d direct a bloody finger to Marley for sending kids, alone, into enemy territory. But that finger would just be pointing upstream a river of blood from a sordid history of conquerors and a blurred definition of humanity, too large and too abstract to take on today’s present grief. 

Through his tears, his voice wrecked and barely audible, but assured in asking his question, Reiner asks, “Did… Did they have any… Last words?” 

"…A bit of closure is better than nothing."

He doesn’t remember much of the rampage through Stohess, not after his raging of sorrow and betrayal after getting a pillar staked through his chest and nearly being pummeled to death. But he remembers the feeling of the chase, how ready he was to die right then and there with lightning setting his veins aflame until he saw his enemy cry for the first time – shocking him in place and shaking the foundations of his beliefs before crystal sequestered her away. 

“Annie doesn’t have any.” Eren refrains from saying anything more.

The sheer heartbreak in Shiganshina still ripples in his head and clenches at his heart. Choking on tears, blood, and burnt flesh, not of ozone titan shifting, but that of his own best friend. Begging for his captain to consider the dreams that’s pushed them forward all this time and for them to give him back his family all the while he selfishly knew they will be taking someone else’s. How he watched, so unfairly, who got to live and who had to die.

Eren tries to hold back the tremor in his voice. “...Bertholdt cried out for you and Annie.” 

Reiner exhales shakily and folds in further on himself, his head in his hands almost between his knees to muffle his woes. Eren’s hand remains resting on Reiner’s back.  

Over and over, Reiner breathily weeps apologies into his palms for his friends. For Bertholdt who they’ll never hear his waxing poetry ever again and for Annie who will wake up to the apocalypse that Reiner may or may not see again. Eren closes his eyes to ease the growing heat of unshed tears he thought had long dried out.  

Unlike Reiner, Eren has no room to ask for forgiveness, no more rights to offer apologies. Reiner still has a chance for redemption, a chance at a life beyond war. Eren was born to run after the impossible and will die for it.

There’s no forgiveness here in the silence that meets Reiner’s cries. No solace here but the one found between two, scarred children raised on lies and reshaped for a war that robbed them of whatever camaraderie they could’ve had together. Hands, body, and mind completely soaked in blood with a chasm of so much loss that Eren wonders if they’ve reached a point where no amount of closure could ever ease all of the pain they’ve witnessed and caused.

After their moment of silence and Reiner recollects himself, he thanks Eren with a small, exhausted, but soft expression that Eren will store as another memory to look back on. Short and simple as there's nothing else left to be said, Eren doesn’t make a big deal or fuss about it and waves him off. It was the least Eren could do. Reiner looked lighter, two specific shadow shapes along the edges of his expression easing away the slightest bit. The door to their past becoming shaped less like a chain leveraged brick and mortar gate, and something more accessible instead. Something shaped more like a wooden, storage shed door.

Being left alone, Eren reflects on the losses he will cause. 

If there’s no closure, especially for something much bigger than the loss of close friends, will the resolve to keep moving forward be enough? 

Reiner doesn’t need to know.

The Rumbling needs a stable Reiner to make sure any of their friends have a chance at surviving the aftermath. If it means that Eren can keep Reiner from spiraling again into his own grief, then he would rather keep his lips sealed. 

It’ll be easier on everyone involved, Eren believes. 

Eren tries to steady the tremble in his hands when he tucks Carlan in for bed that night. 

It’s been two years. Reiner has walked away on his own path and Eren has his path to move forward on. Eren has to let the man go. He had loved and lived a beautiful lie thanks to Reiner and created one of the most wondrous things in his life that almost eclipses the fate he’s locked himself in. The fate that he's chosen to trade in his freedom for.

Give the warrior the full chance to move on and find someone else to heal with. Keep ignoring the vicious coils that wrap around Eren’s chest in protest at the very thought. Shut away the same coils that scream at him to be with his friends and family. Desensitize himself and hold himself together a bit longer. 

He’s already holding the truth from his best friends. He’s masking himself and living a lie in front of everyone he’s met so far in Marley. What’s one more person to hold the truth away from? What’s one more nail to Eren’s well deserved coffin after all of his atrocities are said and done? 

His son will find plenty of other adults in his life to look up to without them. He can live free and untouched by both of his fathers’ sins. And Reiner won’t have to carry the guilt of having unintentionally created a child. 

A child with Eren, of all people. 

There’s a price to truths. 

He won’t tell him. 

And look at where the truth is leading Eren. Heartbreak and the promise of annihilation. 

He can’t tell him. 

The dull hum of a million footsteps from a distant but oncoming horizon keeps him awake that night.

Chapter Text

“You two don’t have to bring me coffee anymore.” Eren starts one morning when the seasons are slowly changing and fall is sluggishly stripping the greens off of tree leaves.

“Is there another drink you’d like then, Mister Kruger?” Falco kindly asks as he goes to sit down on Reiner’s usual crate while the warrior takes his place against the adjacent wall. 

Eren presses his lips together at Falco’s continued generosity and explains tersely, “No. Thank you for your help these past few weeks. But I’ve adjusted to my schedule. You can spend your time elsewhere.” Eren eyes both of his visitors pointedly, “The both of you.” 

“But I like visiting you!” 

“It’s quiet back here.” Reiner bluntly reiterates from their chat the other day to which Falco also nods to. 

Eren sighs loudly and exasperatedly at the two visitors sitting innocently off to the side. His mild agitation doesn’t irk Reiner in the slightest while Falco has the decency to look a little bashful. 

The brunet narrows his eye at Reiner. “I’m blaming you if I get in trouble because of this.”

“I’ll cover for you both.”

“As you should.” Eren demands rather pettily. 

Eren leaves the two conversing amongst themselves as he continues his work, letting their banter become background ambience. The brunet occasionally glances at Reiner interacting with Falco, taking note of how Falco almost hangs off of Reiner’s every word and occasionally challenges Reiner’s ideas in his own subtle ways. All for Reiner to guide him through his concerns and offer anecdotes of advice or small talk like he used to in their cadet days albeit in a more subdued manner. 

Something in Eren twists at the scene from across the way — a reminder of all the things Reiner swore didn’t exist anymore when they screamed at each other in those trees.

“Thank you! I’ll keep that in mind the next time we run drills then,” Falco happily nods to Reiner’s explanation of a combat maneuver. 

Eren comments into his cup off to the side, “Make sure you also don’t let your sparring partner go easy on you while you're at it – unlike someone here. You won’t learn anything that way.” 

Falco tilts his head. “Ah- did Mister Braun hold back? I can guess why, what with being a warrior and having gone through the Armored’s training regimen.”

“While Falco isn’t wrong…” The alpha pauses, mulling over his words before admitting honestly, ”Don’t discredit your own skills.” 

“I’m not.” Eren shrugs, “I’m just saying that once I saw real action, I had to adjust. A lot. Especially to the- ah… Smaller details.”

Small details such as wielding a fifteen meter titan body and discovering that three of his comrades, one of which was his partner, were all enemies. 

“Ah, that explains your advice!” Falco realizes. “We’re taught a lot of theory and core fundamentals, which are always things to practice and improve on daily, of course. But you mention a lot of… I suppose intuitive movement? The small things in practice that make a big difference that the theories don’t cover.”

Falco could thank Reiner for that too. While he wasn’t placed third in hand to hand combat behind Annie and Mikasa for nothing, he still had to scramble to get his shit together when fighting Annie and Reiner as actual opponents and they made their experience gap all the more agonizingly glaring. 

“You definitely learn a lot more in action than in the training yard…”

“Kruger could throw me around without a problem by the end of our training together,” Reiner softly comments, having no right to have as soft of a look in his eyes as he did. 

“Still could without you going easy on me,” Eren says, the lack of proper training these past two years be damned.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Wow,” Falco breathily exclaims and looks between the two of them. Peridot eyes flit between them in trying to imagine how their encounter could happen before landing on Kruger admirably. “I would’ve loved to have seen you in action, Mister Kruger.”

“Trust me when I say, you don’t.” Eren looks away embarrassingly, guilt sinking into his chest uncomfortably like a knife between his ribs – like flying ODM gears within his rib cage hundreds of meters high in the sky.

He sighs and tries to drown the feeling with the bitter taste of coffee, an attempt to distract himself from one awful feeling with another.

Eren finishes his cup with a disgusted wince at the gritty and sharp, bitter dregs. 

“I’m surprised you’re even drinking coffee.” Reiner comments, his gaze spotting Eren’s reaction, “Don’t you prefer sweeter things?”

Eren is surprised the blonde remembers. He sets his empty cup aside. “Yeah. I don’t know how you can stand drinking this.” 

“I quite enjoy it, actually.”

“Of course you do,” Eren mumbles while making a face that draws an amused breath from Reiner. 

“So, why keep drinking it?”

“When you have a schedule like mine, you wind up doing whatever you can to stay awake,” Eren pitifully admits. 

A schedule that also includes juggling reconnaissance work with all the perks of being a single parent behind enemy lines. But Eren’s decided Reiner doesn’t need to know half of that. Surprisingly enough, Falco hasn’t asked Eren about Carlan during their time together with Reiner so far. Eren eyes Falco carefully and makes a mental note to catch him sometime later to maybe see if he could get the boy to stay quiet about his home life. 

“Your shift starts at dawn right?” Reiner asks. When Eren nods, he ruefully smiles, “You never were an early riser back then either.” 

He still isn’t, but he’s gotten used to it.

“Did Mister Kruger like sleeping in?” Falco teasingly asks. 

“Who wouldn’t?” Eren indignantly responds while fighting back a pout.

Falco laughs softly, trying to cover his mouth out of courtesy. “Everyone enjoys sleeping in,” The young candidate agrees. He sneaks a glance at Reiner before leaning forward a little and mock conspiratorially says, “I’ve heard from Gabi that it’s common in their household too.”

Reiner immediately snaps his head towards Falco, looking mildly taken aback by his betrayal. “Falco-” 

“Oh?” Eren turns his head to give Reiner a rising crooked grin. “Is that so? Our great vice chief actually slept in?” He teases with a small lilt to this voice.

“Of course I did when I was younger,” Reiner says defensively. 

Eren scoffs, “You wouldn’t even let our group sleep in on our days off.”

“That’s because some guys needed to be up for extra duties and sleeping in isn’t a soldier's luxury. Might as well do us all a favor in helping learn it early.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I didn’t hear you complain when we-...” Eren trails off, halting himself from continuing that line of thought any further. Feeling colder all of a sudden, he shutters his expression before looking away. The last thing Eren catches out of the corner of his eye was Reiner’s confusion turning into a sobering realization. 

In the past, Reiner barely slept in and gave everyone a run for their money being their 10-minutes-til-class last warning in the morning’s, not just Eren’s. Reiner wasn’t everyone’s personal alarm on the weekends, but when Eren started sneaking into his bunk, he had to get clever and even employed combat moves to keep the big guy in bed a little longer on their days off. 

The only time the blonde wasn’t prepping to get out of bed within minutes of waking up was when they shared their heats and ruts together. He would stay for as long as Eren had wanted amongst other things, the brunet bitterly remembers…

Eren glances up briefly and sees Reiner has looked away too. Sharp features slightly pinch into an unreadable expression directed away from either him or Falco. 

Revisiting their days in the 104th have been a nostalgic trip like retreading old patrol trails. It was a time of their lives that Eren has made peace with and that Reiner is slowly coming to do the same after their shared moment of grief a week ago.

Their former relationship, however, is still no man’s land. 

“...Nevermind,” Eren clears his throat and drops his conversation completely. He’d thought that he had learned something of Armin’s social tact growing up alongside each other. Clearly, he’s dismally learned nothing. He internally apologizes to Falco caught between them.

Confused and concerned, Falco stutters in the silence left by the two adults, neither of them making any further attempts to either elaborate or move onto another topic. 

Whatever the boy was working towards mustering goes out the window when his eyes glance at the wall’s clock.

“Ah- I have to get going before I’m late to my next lesson!” the young candidate gasps as he promptly hops off his crate. Falco smiles politely at Eren and Reiner, thanks them both for the time as always, and they both bid farewell to Falco when he turns to leave. 

However, at the threshold to the storage shed, Falco spins on his heels to turn back around and catches himself against the door frame.

“Oh! Before I forget, Mister Kruger!”

Eren hums to show he’s listening as he starts awkwardly moving a small box of first aid kits.

“My mother wanted me to tell you that she has a few more clothes for Carlan that she can lend for the winter!”

He nearly drops the box.

“You can pick them up the next time you drop by!” 

“That’s… Generous of her,” the omega somehow manages, his voice sounding too small against the buzzing that’s begun ringing in his ears. “Thanks… For letting me know…” 

Once Falco happily sees to the delivery of his message from his mother, he dashes off, leaving Eren and Reiner in a sharpened silence.

Eren carefully sets down the box, his knuckles having turned white with how hard he’s gripping the edges of the crate. It takes another moment for him to remember that he needs to let go of the box for him to move onto the next task. To continue onwards and to not acknowledge Reiner, hoping he’ll ignore the small detail of what Falco just said…

“Eren?” Reiner starts, always switching to his real name when it’s just them. 

Eren could neither gauge anything from the alpha’s scent just as nothing gives away Reiner’s voice. Whether there was irritation, curiosity, or something remotely judgmental- there was nothing. 

“Who’s Carlan?” 

Fuck.

“Someone I know in Liberio.” Eren answers vaguely instead of dropping everything he’s doing to just walk out of the storage shed. It’s a miracle his tone sounds as leveled as the blonde’s while whatever his face could give away remains further obscured by his bandage and loose hair. For once, he’s grateful that he can hide his most likely distressed scent behind his scent blockers.

“You said you were here by yourself,” Reiner’s tone finally takes on something of a cadence – a gentle lilt of curiosity at the new information Falco revealed.

“I am.” Eren answers truthfully.

There are no Scouts nearby, that much remains true from what Eren last told Reiner. Thus Eren is indeed all by his lonesome, and that’s the honesty of his answer.

Reiner arches a very sharp brow and hums, too casually for his own good.

“It’s very generous of the Grice’s to lend more clothes to them. Are they unused to our winters?” 

Eren glares at the question’s implications. Are they local? How prepared are your gears? So you aren’t truly alone.

Finally, something familiar rises in Eren. Being poked for information he’d rather sooner die than reveal makes him draw from a well known fire within him that has fueled him for as long as he can remember. While its roar has quieted, concealed itself during his time in Liberio, its intensity still remains.

“Don’t make me add your small talk as a sign of provocation,” Eren threatens in reference to their truce. 

“Just thinking out loud. It’s not like I’m forcing you to answer them,” Reiner says lightly, as if he knows that they both know how he’s playing around within the bounds of their agreement.  

“And don’t act as if I don’t know how you hunt for tells,”  the brunet defensively snaps, finally tilting his head up to meet Reiner’s eyes now that he’s more confident his face reveals only irritation and not the fraying nerves underneath. ”Now, go back to work or I’m reporting you for loitering.” 

Eren’s argent eye meets the alpha’s golden gaze. 

Looking back, Eren can marvel at how Reiner can collect information in the way he does. How the gravity of his charisma from their cadet days gave way to conversations and curious questions most people were all too willing to share under the guise of camaraderie. Paired with his perception to gauge others’ strengths and weaknesses to either aid them during their training days or to defeat his enemies like when Eren fought Reiner, it’s as plain as day as to how Reiner played them all. How Eren can’t defeat Reiner on his own without some support. How Reiner is able to carry the Vice Chief title through another war despite his struggles… 

…How Eren fell for the man in the first place.

Reiner gives a small, polite smile and holds up his hands in defense. Wordlessly, he ends his break in the medical shed and leaves Eren’s mind racing and his hands itching to pen a letter to the Levi Squad on what he should do. 

Eren does so that evening after reading Carlan to sleep and he tries to keep his mad scribbling quiet. The brunet sometimes does this when he’s desperate enough – when he can’t steady his nerves with a drink and his head echoes too many voices that drowns out his own. 

He never sends them, of course. 

His messily scrawled woes always find themselves fed to candle fire, but at least he can pretend a little that he’s talking to his friends and he can clear his thoughts enough to properly think through the situation. 

Like the flames that greedily consume his letter, there’s a similar agitation flickering in his chest that sends him internally cursing at himself, his future self, and how he’s resolutely decided to not show him any of his memories during this time in Liberio before the festival. Regardless of how much of a poor decision this is in Eren’s present opinion, he takes a deep breath. After all this time, he’s giving himself the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps in order to keep his experience with his son uncomplicated from the Founder’s foresight, it was at the cost of not knowing anything else from this moment in time including the Warriors and Reiner. 

Whatever the case, he’s now dealing with the consequences. 

Regardless of the case, the sea of blood he’ll find himself in remains unchanged.

The following day, Eren’s taking his break in his usual place in the shade of the mess hall against its side wall when he hears Gabi arguing with Udo long before he sees their little group come into view. 

“That’s what I’m telling you- Hey, Mister Kruger!” Gabi exclaims, her booming voice growing that much louder after they’ve rounded the corner to Eren’s hidden spot. 

“Tell me I’m right,” she immediately launches herself into her conversation with Udo before Eren gets a moment to greet them, “doesn’t the phrase ‘If you say one, you must also say two.’ mean that we have to follow the order of operations?” 

Eren blinks, feeling like a deer caught in lamplight at Gabi’s sudden question. But the familiar phrase eases him back – it wasn’t an uncommon phrase on Paradis.

He starts, “Sort of-”

“Hah!”

“-But not quite.” 

“Huh?!”

“It means don’t do anything half-way. If you do one part, you might as well do the other,” Eren further explains. “Sort of like- what was it… ‘In for an inch, in for a mile’?” 

“I told you!” Udo triumphantly says. 

“Your guess wasn’t right either!” Gabi snaps.

“Thank you, Mister Kruger,” Zophia tiredly sighs, the next of their group to join with her refreshments and sitting herself down on the ground next to Eren. “They’ve been at it since hearing it from an older veteran. I told them that they could drop it and wait for your input instead of arguing all morning but they kept going.” 

“Why my input?” Eren asks.

Udo begins to unwrap his snack bar when he says, “Your speech style reminds us of the older vets. We guess it’s because of how often you work with them, being a former soldier and working at the wards and all”

“I see…”

Unsurprising. Eren still slips up and uses older terms for things that the locals or warrior candidates sometimes correct him for, or poke fun at him over. Another glaring experience gap between the home he was raised in and the world that left them behind. Or perhaps it’d be more accurate to say that it was Paradis who decided to make and lay in its own bed and left the world to spin forward. 

With a mouthful of a large bite of crackers, Gabi covers her mouth to start on another topic when Falco finally joins their crew with a wave. 

Eren sniffs the air, noticing the collection of stronger scents on the wind approaching their little break alcove. He frowns when Falco answers his immediate suspicions. 

Clever. A pistol. Endurance. A skyline. Where’s the enemy?…

“Sometimes we take our breaks out here,” he says to another party turning the corner. 

“Kids these days, loitering about wherever,” Porco half-heartedly chides underneath his breath when he appears with Colt at his side. 

“As if we don’t still hang out wherever we want within permitted areas,” Colt fondly remarks until his eyes land on Eren. “Oh, hey Kruger! Took us long enough to finally bump into each other on base!” 

“I suppose,” Eren shrugs.

His fears weren’t over yet when a familiar woodsy, amber scent and an unfamiliar smoky sweet scent drew nearer. Reiner’s footfalls carry him into view alongside a petite woman with raven hair looking around curiously before giving a friendly wave herself in greeting. Reiner pauses with a slow blink. If finding Eren arranging their medical supplies was bizarre, the brunet can’t imagine how well Reiner must be processing seeing Marley’s public enemy number-one standing amongst their top soldiers during their break. 

Meanwhile, Eren himself is doing his damndest to not lose composure and excuse himself too quickly at being surrounded by people who wouldn’t hesitate to turn him in. It’d be the most opportune time, technically, should Reiner feel particularly dutiful. All of their shifters minus Zeke are here. He’d be at a disadvantage. Zeke is goddess-knows-where, there would be no time to get to his child. His plans would be jeopardized and- 

-And Eren takes a slow and subtle deep breath and forces his thoughts back under his control and to relax his grip on his crutches.

If he survives this, Eren is going to demand Zeke to switch him to another job somewhere else far, far away from this place and the warriors. Or see if he could find another break block to never bump into more than half of these people ever again. 

“It's cozy here. Definitely quieter and not filled with stiff adults telling you to stop being rowdy over the slightest things in the mess hall,” the woman amicably says. 

“First time seeing the rest of you all here…” Eren muses. 

Colt smiles. “We just ended a meeting. Usually we have them amongst other duties scheduled back to back but we had a bit of time before the next one today.

“Figured we visit the kids,” Porco comments while ruffling Udo’s hair, sharing a challenging but fond grin with the bespectacled teen as he swats playfully.

“I didn’t know you'd met… Everyone.” Reiner slowly and pointedly comments looking at Eren. 

“It just… Sort of happened…” Eren responds, sheepishness having crept up into his dull tone.

“Wow, aren’t you a popular guy Kruger,” Colt chuckles. “Seems like you don’t need any introductions.” 

“Pardon me,” the woman politely regards Eren, “but I don’t think I’ve personally met you yet.” 

“Oh! Miss Pieck, that’s Mister Kruger,” Falco introduces kindly after settling to the other side of him against the wall with Gabi and Udo, “He’s one of the war vets they’ve been hiring for the recovery programs here. Mister Kruger, this is Pieck, the Cart Titan!” 

“Nice to meet you Kruger,” Pieck, a beta, greets airly.

“Hello,” Eren says ineptly, tilting his head down to hide his panic and his face.

The newspapers mentioned her a few times and Eren has technically kept tabs on all of Marley’s warriors through the colorless print. If he can vividly remember the cart titan, the one with the long maw that carried Zeke’s half body over the terracotta roofs of Shiganshina, then there’s no doubt that the cart titan herself must’ve remembered his appearance from how openly aggressive he was when he withheld Bertholdt from them. How could she have forgotten the moment she lost another comrade when Zeke apologized and bade Bertholdt farewell, practically announcing their friend’s time of death under his trembling and ignorant hands?

Pieck tilts her head and sniffs. “Say, Kruger. We haven’t met somewhere else before, right?”

“I don’t think so.” Eren says in an even softer tone, a stark contrast to his hoarse screaming from when she last saw him in Shiganshina. He shifts on his crutches and averts his gaze. His clammy hands regrip the worn, but sturdy wooden handles of his crutches as he tries to still their trembling.

“Strange. Something about you does seem familiar…”

“Perhaps you saw someone similar during one of your campaigns,” Reiner covers much to Eren's surprise as he goes to open his own canister of water to take a casual drink. “We do meet a lot of people on our missions.” 

The irony here of Reiner unknowingly covering for the man that fed his childhood best friend to his own best friend isn’t lost on Eren. The hypocrisy and repeated cycle of Eren standing as an innocuous and accepted military vet amongst people he had taken a comrade away from, who will take away more of their citizens and the rest of the world from, also isn’t lost on him – Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie wearing tan jackets and helping the rest of the cadets under the humid sun of a training yard flashes through his mind. 

Eren’s torn between doing something simple like emptying his stomach of this morning’s breakfast or something not as simple like walking into the chilling sea for the waves to take him under.

The dark haired girl hums, dark gray eyes looking up and to the side in thought until she shrugs lazily, “Most likely!” 

“Since you were there when Colt brought him in, Pieck,” Gabi perks up her head at Pieck’s wondering. “He was the omega Colt and Falco saved back in Ceres’ Fields! Maybe you saw him sometime then?”

Ice seizes all of Eren’s bones despite the warm mid-autumn air, as if he did walk into that sea. He should have done that after entrusting Carlan to Flock or Yelena – maybe sometime yesterday or the day before had he known this was how today was going to play out.

Peick gasps, sleepy eyes flying open in hope and recognition, “The one that gave birth?”

“Uh,” Eren dumbly gapes, not knowing how to continue. How many omega’s gave birth on the battlefield to where he can pass it off as someone else?

Gabi, unfortunately, has him covered. “That’s him!”

Eren refuses to look at Reiner, who is subsequently doubling over in a violent coughing fit. The alpha turns away to muffle himself against the crook of his arm at having heard the news mid-drink.

”Oh! I thought I'd seen you before! It’s so good to see that you’re recovering well!” Pieck relaxes and happily clasps her hands together. “Finally, we have a proper happy epilogue for your story!”

“Pardon?” Eren chokes.

“You were the talk of the infantry for a few weeks for morale.” She gladly supplies. 

Eren pales at the information to which Falco puts a gentle hand on his arm with an equally gentle smile that does absolutely nothing to Eren’s panic. To his heightened awareness to every cough he hears from Reiner, dreading the moment he regains his breath and voice. 

“Don’t worry,” Falco, the sweet child, attempts to console, “yours and Carlan’s story brought up a lot of soldiers' spirits.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Porco drawls distantly, “Some crap like ’fight for the lives born and yet to be born’ or something.” 

“Please- you should’ve seen how much harder this guy worked after he heard the story.” Colt cheekily states as an aside which causes the Jaw warrior to make an indignant sound and turn his head away, hiding the small flush on his face behind irritation.

The urge to launch himself into another plane of existence is steadily rising within him.

Where the fuck is Zeke? They are going to make contact, right here, right now, and Eren is going to use the Paths as a panic room.

Porco waves his hand dismissively and tries to move on from Colt’s teasing. “Anyways, small world- Oi, you useless alpha,” Porco interrupts himself at the last bit of Reiner’s throat clearing in his attempts at catching his breath, “did you also forget how to breathe or something?” The shorter alpha slams his hand onto Reiner’s back that was too loud and forceful to be of much help. With how audible the force was, Eren would have assumed he was using it as an excuse to hit the man.  

“Back then… That- that was you ?” Reiner finally chokes, sounding beyond breathless, disbelief surely contorting his features if Eren looks his way.

“Oh it was,” Colt confirms with an amused expression. “Stitched him back up, myself. And got chewed out by the ward nurse for my poor job. Fortunately, we got them help in time and both Kruger and Carlan survived.”

Eren dares a glance at the man and what Eren sees makes his rib cage constrict. The blonde’s expression is pulled wide open, eyes transfixed on Eren and simultaneously so… So lost. 

Eren looks away, not having the heart to admit it directly, but he at least makes the statement, “Thank you, but I… Would prefer to keep my private life… Private.”

The warriors give their quiet hums and nods of understanding. 

It makes the point that he didn’t appreciate his story being passed around for further propagandic purposes despite its optimistic nature. Not when Eren knew of its more complicated origins. And certainly not wanting Carlan to have any part in Marley’s militaristic nature in banking on the lives of Eldians for their war agenda. 

But he does indirectly confirm to Reiner. Yes, no one was playing a joke on him. Colt and Falco inadvertently aided an Omega and their newborn on the battlefield and onwards that day. A wounded soldier turned parent who just so happened to be their infiltrating enemy, Eren Jaeger – The Devil of Paradis and the holder of the Attack and Founding Titans. 

Yes, Eren found himself in Marley with his child.

Reiner remains speechless, expression reschooled to hide his thoughts once more when Eren excuses himself from their break. On wobbly crutches, he treks back to the quiet of the storage room while fighting lightheadedness.

Eren sighs weakly and immediately collapses onto the nearest sitting crate next to the door. He places his head in his hands, and slowly runs his hands up and back through his hair in a poor attempt to ease his stress. The shifter doesn’t know what to expect anymore. Any plans he’s made in keeping Reiner none the wiser of Eren and Carlan’s life in Marley has only proven to Eren that his long term strategizing was and still is his weakest skill if not for the aid of the Attack Titan. Strategy was always been Armin’s domain, after all. Not Eren’s.

His heart pounds away within him like he’s been running. Like for almost everything in Eren’s life, he'd be running one way or another – up a hill towards the tree, across his hometown’s streets, away from danger, against his enemies, for a sight a child wants to see, towards the tree .

This is just another instance where he has to push himself ever forward. He may not be the best planner or strategist, but he does know how to react in the moment, for good or for worse. And in this moment, he pushes himself up and back onto his foot and continues working, waiting for when Reiner is ready to visit Eren.

Finally, at around noon, he smells his scent incoming before he slows just outside of his door, out of sight. Reiner should be aware that Eren could still smell his scent from there, yet the alpha still took his time and stalls in front of the threshold. For what, Eren doesn’t care to figure out but he keeps his head low and focused on a box of gauze wraps when Reiner soundly knocks and slowly enters.

Instead of heading to his usual spots at either standing against the wall or sitting to rest, he stands beside the doorway that he’s subtly closed for more privacy. That certainly doesn’t ease Eren’s nerves, but he will manage.

However, Reiner keeps standing there… 

…And Eren keeps looking at his work. 

Their silence grows and stretches, becoming its own entity separating them. A blatant reminder that their most recent improvements in reliving old memories and camaraderie was but a fraction of their former relationship. 

“Eren…” Reiner starts, voice low like far away thunder in the silent room.

“...Reiner,” Eren mimics.

Another beat. 

Reiner takes a breath.

“...What in Helos’ name, Eren!?”

There it is. 

The confusion, the denial – those Eren was ready for. What catches him by surprise was the hint of disappointment that, despite its subtle presence, cuts him so deeply he’s thrown back to his training days all over again. His chest throbs as if bruised from very rare, but judgmental stares and quiet purposeful silences whenever Eren took his arguments with Jean too far or he pushed himself too hard during training at the detriment of his health.

Simpler days when the solutions were just as simple and they were able to learn and move onto more important topics hand in hand. 

This, though… Reiner aiming it at his choices as a parent, an important topic to Eren that he’s had to handle without Reiner, makes his focus on staying calm more and more difficult by the second.

He grits his teeth. “What the fuck do you want, Reiner?” 

“What do I- Eren . Ceres’ fields was almost two years ago.” 

“Yes- welcome to the present. Are you done?” 

“You-!” Reiner takes a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose at Eren’s flippancy. He takes a breath evenly, subduing his alarmed scent from getting any sharper and his tone from growing any louder.

“This is beyond reckless even for you.”

“Take your judgment and shove it.”

“I have every right to judge.” 

“Over your enemy?”

“Over… An innocent…” Reiner pauses, sounding hesitant in his response. But Eren doesn’t notice it over his growing stress and the frustration at this whole, gods-damned situation.

“Oh, for-” Eren rolls his eye so hard he makes himself dizzy. He slams his hand hard on the box in front of him to bodily shove himself around to face Reiner, expression growing darker. 

What right did Reiner have to judge? Especially not after everything he’s done to Eren, their friends, and Paradis. The brunet did not manage to be a single parent and move forward with his plans all this time for nothing. He did not isolate himself from the rest of his friends and family, and grieve over a future only he could see all this time just to get critiqued by Reiner of all people – the other half to this whole situation. Sure, Reiner may be the father to his child, but he hasn’t been there . 

Raw tendrils of pain lash out before Eren could control himself when he snaps, “Where was this in Trost or when you came back to Marley to teach more kids to follow in your footsteps?” 

Immediately, he holds back a wince at his own stinging words when hurt colors Reiner’s expression and scent. But Reiner doesn’t dwell on it when his demeanor shifts, rehardens like his titan’s armor to stand his ground against the storm that is Eren. Resolve alight in his eyes when he doesn’t flinch away, but takes a step forward and gestures with his hands to the space between them.

“This is a little different, and you know it.” 

“That’s rich coming from someone that led kids into enemy territory.” 

“I may have led ill-suited kids for such an operation, but we were military trained for several years knowing the risks. This is your child, Eren. They’re barely able to walk or talk, much less know what’s going on!” 

Reiner sighs aggressively, takes a quick glance over his shoulder at the closed door, and sounds near frantic when he presses on gravely in a quieter voice, “You’ve been here long enough. You have heard about what they do to families and anyone linked to Restorationists or anything that goes against the state if you get caught.” 

Flames lick and consume flesh as Kruger had to watch in horror at his father’s immolation by the hands of Marley’s Public Security. Faye’s bright cheerful face contorts and shreds into pieces like the state his father and grandparents found her, blood dark and red against her pale, colorless skin on top of the vivid green grass of the water bank. The fear and utter humiliation at the top of a forgotten wharf after Zeke’s accusatory fingers pointed at his own parents. 

Eren has to hold on to the crate for dear life as his father’s and Kruger’s memories convulse violently under his skin to Reiner’s words.

“I’m well aware,” Eren gasps through clenched teeth. 

Reiner growls, slowly losing his patience. “Really? Then why are you still here? I know the Scouts or Paradis won’t kill you or your child if you go back empty handed- or abandon whatever it is you’re doing here. Why are you endangering yourselves?!” 

“BECAUSE YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING-”

Eren’s voice breaks, to both of their surprise. Eyes wide and their breaths the only sound between them, they both freeze in place listening attentively and sniffing for any passers by while glancing at the door. They pause to make sure no one heard Eren’s outburst before warily regarding each other again. 

Eren hasn’t screamed, especially not from his lungs, in years. What was something he’d do almost every other day became non-existent in his time in Marley in between staying quiet, figuratively and literally, and taking on a much softer disposition with raising Carlan. His vocal chords are unused to the strain on top of the already stressful conversation. But with said disuse, there was no hiding the anger, the sorrow, and the fear that escaped in the way his chords wavered and scratched painfully.

Reiner takes a step back, his expression morphing into recognition and pity. 

Guilt sinks into Eren. As much as he hates it, Reiner is right. His or not, the warrior has every right to worry about a child Eren could be endangering. He is rightfully afraid of Eren and the things he could do with the powers he has and the people he’ll jeopardize along the way. 

Eren hangs his head, too exhausted for the hysteria underneath to take hold, floating just out of the light beneath the surface of his thoughts. There’s a déjà vu here – from a time when Eren was the one who didn’t know anything and he still screamed in blind defiance then. 

Eren weakly clears his throat and tries to regain some ounce of control when he admits, quietly and resigned, “I can’t go back…” 

There was no going back.

The alpha doesn’t say anything in response, but his scent dulls into something less sharp, calmer notes mixed with sympathy. Reiner slowly makes his way to his usual spot and sits down on his crate and hunches over onto his elbows resting on his knees. Meanwhile, Eren feels like he has put on two sets of ODM gears. He grabs another crate nearby to collapse into once more, too tired to stay on one leg any longer.

“Eren.” Reiner gingerly coaxes, making the brunet look up with a weary eye. The blonde purposely keeps his head low when he looks up, a non threatening sign– another form of submission. Once he has Eren’s attention and can hold his gaze, he softly, but firmly promises, speaking in a way as to not spook the omega across the way, “I won’t harm your child. I won’t go anywhere near them or get in between you two. You have my word.”

After eyeing the alpha’s posture and not detecting anything malicious in his scent, Eren vows, his own voice hoarse from the weight of emotions he’s held back, “I’ll hold you to that... Nothing will save you or anyone else if any harm comes to him.” 

Reiner nods slowly. He looks back down and tilts his head this way and that, obviously going over some thoughts in his head before he says them. He opens his mouth several times before tentatively asking his question.

“Just… Is he… Carlan was it?… Is he from- from when we… After we…?”

A defeated breath leaves Eren’s lungs. 

The question Eren has been dreading to answer. But now that he’s here, he feels like he’s floating. Not the type where he’s soaring through the air in that moment of anchorless suspension after he’s disengaged his hooks. Not the one where he’s flying in the limitless blue sky over a steam of clouds. No, this was something like floating in water. The weight of one’s body is still very much present but submerged halfway underwater, trapped between two realities, the one underneath and the one above, both sides requiring effort to enter – at least for a person like Eren. 

Reiner’s side is calling to him past the buzzing of all his thoughts.

In a breath that would’ve been lost to the wind if the room wasn’t already as quiet as it was, Eren whispers.

“...Yes.” 

That lost expression is back on Reiner’s face. Brows knitted, Reiner blinks several times before he starts smoothing his expression back out to hide the hint of pain Eren sniffs out in his scent, nodding like he’s trying to convince himself of this reality he’s now facing. 

He gulps and inhales like he has to remind himself how to function when he mumbles. “ Oh … R-right… Right… O-of course…” 

Eren’s brows knit together and he turns away. That was about as neutral of a response he could’ve expected and Eren doesn’t know whether he should be glad or disappointed. A part of him wishes he said nothing, or lied. Leave it up in the air or deny it. But somehow, he couldn’t find the strength within him to do it. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Eren croaks, easing Reiner from the responsibility, “just… Just let him be. Please.” 

“That goes without saying.” 

The brunet grimaces. That’s… Acceptable, right? 

This is fine. His ideal, even. He can continue as is without needing to factor in Reiner if he had wanted to be a part of his son’s life. Relieved. He should be relieved…

“ Stars , things must’ve changed drastically for them to let you go in your state,” Reiner says, disconcerted.

“I didn’t show,” Eren explains. “No one knew, and I didn’t know until… Until I was having him. By that time it was a little too late.”

“Oh, Eren…” Reiner pities. After a moment, the blonde presses his lips together. Resolved, he asks, simply and curiously, “Do you regret it? Having him?”

Eren turns his head back to Reiner to see what he wanted out of such a question. Eren’s felt regret for every other aspect of Carlan’s life. Like where he was being raised, not getting to meet the rest of Eren’s pack until so much later, and the fact that Eren will die soon. But the very nature of having Carlan? To have brought him into the world?

What an absurd question. 

“Never,” he says with the corners of his mouth tilting upwards in a smile. 

Reiner’s gaze softens at the answer and looks away to retreat into his own thoughts, leaving Eren to take the moment to rest and get his act back together. They continued to sit in silence until it was time for Reiner to return back to his work. Eren trains his eyes at his retreating broad back the entire time, the light of the entrance silhouetting his form and casting a shadow behind him. There the man goes, leaving. Again. Returning to the side he belongs to. The side that doesn’t include Eren or Carlan. 

Where Eren wants him to be.

Where Reiner should be…

…

“General street.”

Eren calls out, Impulsively, like a long forgotten dance only his instincts remember the steps to, “Between Quintus and Fausta Avnenues. Noon.” 

Confused, the blonde pauses mid step at the door and thinks aloud, “The entrance to Saturna Markets?” 

Eren only repeats the time and states the day on the weekend, keeping himself busy. Reiner leaves once he sees he’s not getting anything else out of Eren. He’ll let Reiner decide whether or not he’ll be where Eren mentioned while Eren tries not to feel regret in the instance that he does answer and shows up.

It was the weekend once more. Only Falco visited him once in the following work days after the big reveal between him and Reiner. 

Carlan is wide awake sitting up against Eren’s chest in his sling, gold eyes looking around in wonder at the sights and sounds that come from being out at a different time of day than he’s used to. Meanwhile, Eren is mentally preparing for the day ahead, already second guessing his decisions, but forging onwards regardless of his doubts. His son trills softly at the different colors, and sounds, and passers by. Some notice his gaze, expressions turning kinder for the ones who offer a small wave as they walk by. It would make his son press back closer against Eren’s chest as if he wasn’t expecting to be noticed, but he’d go right back to looking around afterwards, his curiosity winning over his fears.

Much to Eren’s surprise, there was Reiner at the entrance to the markets having arrived there a little earlier than him. He’s wearing civilian clothing that wasn’t too different from his military attire. A tanned colored trench coat is tossed over a button up, while some trousers are tucked into laced, non-combat boots. His red arm band still stands out amongst the crowd of grays like Eren’s. 

Upon closer inspection as Eren follows the flow of the crowd closer to the entrance, he blinks at the small group of teenagers that are fawning over him. Stars alight in their eyes at not just one of their acclaimed warriors but the vice chief himself out in public for them to swoon over and attempt to catch the attention of. 

And Reiner looks constipated. 

His smile is so obviously and politely forced, the corners barely reaching his cheeks, let alone his eyes. It was the complete opposite to the image in his memories of Reiner as a cadet. Of the relaxed and compassionate soldier under the attention of Eren and the rest of the cadets. For a moment, if it weren't for his nerves, Eren would’ve burst out laughing at the man’s discomfort. 

“Your father is still popular, isn’t he, little hunter?” Eren quietly murmurs to his son. Carlan chirps surprisingly at hearing his dad speak to him as Eren smiles down and purrs quietly, “Then again, so am I.”

For all the wrong reasons.  

He keeps his face as neutral as possible as he crosses Reiner’s vision across the way and their eyes connect. 

Reiner’s attention immediately locks onto them and tunes out of whatever one of the teens was saying. He completely loses his composure in the way the shock subtly takes over his features. His mouth softly falls agape and the sun finally catches his eyes in the same way it does to Carlan’s. 

Before the crowd completely pushes him out of sight, Eren pauses and brings a hand up to shield Carlan’s head, disrupting Reiner’s view of his – their – son. Eren sees how Reiner furrows his brow and recomposes himself at the gesture.

Good. Now let’s see if he remembers…

His hand curls slowly and deliberately. To anyone taking notice, it’d look like Eren was just brushing his son’s hair. To anyone trained in Paradis’ military, it’s a sign – a movement he makes slow enough for Reiner to read it clearly in between his attempts at excusing himself from his fans.  

Tail. Minimal interaction.

The brunet doesn’t stay long enough to see if Reiner recognized the sign. He is, after all, also here as a regular civilian who needs food for his little family. Eren is already taking a personal loss at going to the markets so late in the day. The earlier deals and fresher produce are probably all gone by now much to his displeasure. 

He picks through his preferred stalls slowly and surely. Some of the stall merchants who recognize him and Carlan give them familiar greetings. Eren tries to not befriend them in any way, but he does pay his respects by being a quiet regular to those who have treated him decently or have given a free snack to Carlan every once and a while. 

There’s the old man who takes pride in his home grown potatoes that reminds him of Captain Levi, but for proper storage and care for root vegetables instead of cleanliness. A young couple with a fascination for pasta as fervent as Commander Hange and Moblit’s studies in titan biology who’d talk about its shapes and recipes to any and all customers including a laughing Carlan that they’d entertain with their pasta charades. Then, there was the loud, jovial woman with a drunk-of-a-husband who likes to give Eren extra rolls of bread despite his protests after he had shared in a toss-away small talk that it was just him and Carlan in Liberio. 

It’s been two years, but the grief and self-contempt Eren still feels hasn’t eased in the slightest.

Eren nearly stumbles when someone bumps into him from his blind side, but he regains his footing quickly. He looks down at Carlan to make sure he was okay before breathing in relief at seeing him safe. Crowds were difficult to traverse through without a leg, an eye, and while carrying groceries and an extra small passenger. It’s why Eren preferred the earlier mornings when there were the least amount of people.  

But for today, it’s the perfect barrier between him and Reiner. He hasn’t missed the blonde keeping a few paces several stalls away, browsing at goods in between the occasional glance in Eren’s direction. He smoothly navigates around the additional passing attention he gets from more fans or people he’s met personally before. 

Eren is at the last booth on his list when he takes his time combing through vegetables he’s slowly grown used to the names of during his time here. After deciding which ones he could reasonably afford or looked decent enough to survive the week, he holds up a cauliflower and a carrot to Carlan. His son knows the drill, already moving around in his sling to better look at the two things being presented to him. Eren can’t help but smile at how his son carefully looks between the two until his tiny hands finally pick the worthiest fruit that will grace their table. 

After picking a bundle of carrots, Eren goes to pay. When he digs through his wallet, he pauses. Recounts the remaining change he has, then frowns.

He comes up short.

Damn. He knew he had paid a bit more from missing some deals at certain stalls, but not by this much.

Perhaps he could bargain? Oh, who is he kidding- he’s terrible at bargaining. Unsurprisingly, that was Armin’s and Sasha’s specialty. Well- for Sasha, it’d be largely over food deals if she didn’t outright steal the food herself. He hopes Niccolo along with the rest of the pack has helped quell that habit of hers.

Eren internally groans. Either way, he’ll have to eat a little lighter this week. He’s used to it and less, and would rather Carlan not go hungry. 

He’s about to start putting back some of the food when a broad shoulder appears at his side. The arm that belongs to its owner hands a few dollar bills forward to the stall owner.

Looking up, startled, Eren quickly closes his mouth into a frown at Reiner. “I can’t afford that.”

Reiner slips his wallet back into his inner coat pocket and patiently nods for the merchant owner to go ahead and process the money. “Don’t worry about it.” 

While his produce is being placed in a bag across the way, Eren does his best to mask his agitation when he clarifies, “No. I’m not paying you back.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” 

Eren spares a few more seconds reigning his judgmental gaze at the blonde’s unwanted charity until a small, warbled trill has both adults’ attention instantly. Looking  down, Carlan’s head is pressed against his chest and turned cautiously outwards. His large, observing eyes look up through his dark brown bangs at the newcomer that is Reiner.

Before Eren gets overwhelmed with emotions too layered to comprehend at the sight between his son and Reiner, Eren takes the last of his groceries which shocks Reiner out of his stupor. 

The brunet supposes he’ll take the warrior’s generosity for now. These are the items his son chose after all. 

Reiner clears his throat and quietly asks, “What else do you need?”

“That was it. I just came up a little short on money this week, that’s all,” Eren says as he spins around and promptly starts crutching out of the market stalls.

Reiner trails after him easily into the thinner crowd, the midday traffic having cleared up into the afternoon. The day has grown warmer from the constant sunlight above and Eren can appreciate the warmth it brings. The last vestiges of summer slowly making its final rounds before letting autumn fully take the seasonal reins. The sun soothes his nerves at Reiner’s sudden appearance after an afternoon of directed observation from the man at a distance.

Eren stops at a small quiet place a little ways off from the main roads leading around and towards the markets. He takes the open bench there to rest and give his shoulders a break between carrying Carlan, his crutches, and his bags. Looking up, he sees that Reiner has dutifully followed him all the way out, and keeps maintaining Eren’s earlier orders of trailing at a distance.

“Well, kiddo,” the brunet starts quietly. Carlan looks up curiously when his dad asks, “Do you want to meet someone? Someone… Important to the both of us?” 

“Uh-ss… Us?” Carlan sounds questioningly parroting back a word with little to no idea on what it meant other than he felt like practicing it out of pure childlike whimsy. 

Eren smiles. Only then does he tilt his head up to where Reiner was busy trying to make himself appear like a pondering customer at a store’s chalkboard sign when he lifts a hand to subtly sign for the warrior to come over. 

“You want to keep hovering around like a creep or do you want to at least say hi?” Eren offers when Reiner comes into ear shot.

The blonde startles at Eren’s wording as he comes to a halt a good meter or two in front of them. If Eren’s reading Reiner’s movements and scent correctly, he states almost shyly, “I- That depends on your permission.”

Eren looks back down at his son again to double check on his nerves. Despite how he’s tucked himself back against his chest at Reiner’s approach, he’s still bravely curious as ever in the way he’s halfway turned around to observe the blonde – his father – with eyes the exact same shade as Reiner’s.

Just like how Reiner held his out to Eren against the setting sun of Paradis, and how Eren held his hand back out to Reiner in the quiet solace of a storage shed set out of sound and sight, with one hand supporting his son, Eren sits up and leans forward on the bench to slowly hold his hand out patiently for Reiner once more.

Reiner looks breathless when he takes one unsure step forward. He’s all hesitant movements, jittery and restrained motions in coming closer to Eren and their son. Each movement cements itself in both of their minds that this moment was really happening. That this wasn’t some exhaustion hazed dream for Eren when Reiner grazes his warm fingers against his and lowers himself to a knee to not distress either of them from his towering height.

The blonde doesn’t fully connect their hands. He respectfully waits for Eren to take his to start guiding him at the pace that works best for him and his child. 

Gently, Eren takes Reiner’s hand in his, his slender olive toned fingers contrasting with Reiner’s paler and thicker ones when he leads him forward. His skin warms his fingers when Eren makes sure Reiner doesn't move an inch further when he stops at the appropriate distance close enough for Carlan to take over the last and final leg of their introduction. If the way Eren unconsciously slid the tips of fingers against Reiner’s was too painstakingly soft to be called anything but intimate, neither of them acknowledge it in favor of watching the toddler perk up in realization at what is happening. 

“Carlan, this is Reiner…” Eren softly introduces. “Reiner… Carlan.”

“H-Hello.” Reiner’s usual deep and gruff voice smooths into something quiet and tentative to the just as quiet and tentative babe sitting against Eren’s chest.

Eren watches in unblinking scrutiny at the exchange in front of him. After looking back at Eren’s protective vision one last time, emboldened, Carlan slowly eases himself out of his curled-up comfort in his sling and carefully pushes himself a little off of Eren’s chest to start observing Reiner.

Reiner’s nervousness morphs away into that of subdued awe. Eyes wide open, enamored, with his hand and breath held as still as a statue, Carlan studies the new person he’s being introduced to. Golden eyes scan up and down the man at his eye level while his button nose sniffs his woodsy scent. Eren’s own nerves buzz increasingly beneath his skin at the sight while Reiner doesn’t show a hint of discomfort at holding his pose for as long as he has. Though Carlan takes his time, it takes no more than a few minutes for the child to decide whether he deems Reiner safe enough to know, disregard, or retreat from. 

Once Carlan stops to lean back and doesn't do anything else besides stare at Reiner, Eren releases the breath he’s held and shares a neutral look with Reiner – their greeting comes to a close.

Reiner smiles weakly and respectfully. He starts to pull his hand away and Eren begins leaning back to coax back his son when a tiny blur of movement freezes them both in their tracks. 

Carlan reaches his tiny hands out and grasps onto Reiner’s fingers. A soft gentle trill can be heard from the toddler as a smile finds its way onto his son’s lips directed up at the blonde.

“Hi!” Carlan finally greets, cheerily accepting Reiner and holding onto his hand with a smile that’s so bright and welcoming, Eren stares in disbelief and awe at his otherwise shy son.

When Eren looks up, Reiner’s eyes glisten in unshed tears at the small act in front of him. 

“Hi…” the blonde thickly says, voice and scent choked with lighter and sweeter notes of joy and elation. 

“Well…” Eren starts breathlessly, quietly like he’s afraid to ruin the moment and send either of them back to their respective shells, “Looks like he likes you…” 

“Is that a good thing?” Reiner worriedly asks.

Eren chews the inside of his bottom lip. “Do you want it to be?”

Can it be a good thing, Eren wonders. What would this make of all of his agonizing nights forcing himself that this wasn’t something he should think about. Of his decision of saving Reiner from a dream he probably never wanted, with Eren especially. That this heart-wrenchingly entreating feeling he’s been trying to burn to nothing could still take root in his chest and be something Eren can selfishly feel. 

In a whisper, almost mimicking that of Eren’s when he revealed the nature of their son, Reiner pleads.

“...Please.” 

He had no right to look up at Eren in the way he does, seeking his approval. How could Reiner do this to him all over again? In showing him this illusion of an unreciprocated life. Like somehow, the world shifted enough on its axis in the last several hours to have changed the warrior’s mind from when he last said that he would leave the both of them alone to now, begging on his knees for something Eren doesn’t know if he has any right to give, let alone for Reiner to take, again.

And yet…

“...Then it is.” 

Eren will remember the watery smile on Reiner’s face at his answer and the soft laughter Carlan makes when Reiner gently shakes his hand. He’ll replay it in the dead hours of his nights and his life. How the crowd fades away to nothing and the wind rustles their hair when Reiner smiles down at Carlan like the sun wasn’t in the sky, but in the way Eren held their child and how his child held onto his father’s hands. 

When they part, Reiner asks, “Do you always shop on the weekends?” 

Eren furrowed his brows at the question. “Why?” 

“Just wondering.” Reiner simply says, voice still raw from their exchange.

With a soft tilt of his head, Eren lets his hair fall to the side of his face to reveal a glint to his eye. “Wouldn’t you want to know.” 

Somehow, the small, crooked smile Reiner makes at Eren still, unbelievably and irritatingly, has him feeling like he’s free falling from his ODM wires all over again. 

When the next grocery weekend rolls around and the crisper early morning air has his son bundling closer against Eren’s chest, he finds Reiner waiting for him at the entrance to the marketplace again. His hands are tucked into his pockets with his collars drawn up against the chill as he’s lounging against a bench. He couldn’t have been there long, but Eren isn’t amused at Reiner guessing correctly guessing his grocery schedule as soon as he did. 

Or he had simply walked back and asked one of the merchants Eren visited from the other day after they parted ways.

“What’s this?” Eren sighs with a pointed look.

“Morning to you both too,” Reiner greets. 

Carlan looks up and sleepily waves a hand at Reiner before resting his head back against Eren’s shoulder. While Reiner’s affectionate gaze at the sight made the cool morning weather less biting, Eren doesn’t greet him. Instead, he’s wondering what the hell Reiner is getting out of confronting Eren so early in the morning.

Reiner shrugs. “I have groceries to get too.” 

“During the same time as I’m getting mine?” Eren asks incredulously. 

“Wanted to check out how different the offerings can be this early in the morning.” 

Bullshit.

But Eren only stares judgmentally at the man a whole minute longer out of spite until he turns away and starts making his way into the markets. 

“Anything funny and I’ll show you how dangerous a pair of crutches can be,” Eren warns with a yawn. 

Reiner’s long stride falls into an easy and achingly familiar step beside him when he hums, “I’m curious enough to see it.”

Eren slows his step and stabs the closest crutch to Reiner against the side of his leg. It isn’t anything dangerous and does absolutely nothing to him. It barely interrupts his steps aside from making him slow down to wait for Eren to continue his pace, but it was the self gratification for Eren that counts. Along with the little quiet bubble of satisfaction from the amused huff that it manages to draw from Reiner.

“Utterly terrifying. Worse than taking artillery to the face,” the alpha dryly comments.

Eren bites the inside of his lip, biting back the twitch of a grin at the remark and instead rolls his eye at the blonde’s sarcasm.

Several transactions, Reiner learning how to offer options for Carlan to pick, and some bickering over the man buying more food items than necessary for Eren later, the brunet forgets about the future for the moment. 

For once, Eren notices the way the sun hits the rooftops of the muted city without remembering how easily the structures will be crushed under large footsteps. His steps feel less ephemeral in how he knows he’ll be fading away in several months' time, but more weighted in the scuff marks they leave on the dirt for the time being before someone else walks over them. 

He sees the creases on Reiner’s face not for the horrors of war he’s had to weather, but from the way he looks admiringly at Carlan and Eren’s interactions. Eren forgets about his apathy and the emptiness he deserves to feel when Reiner’s occasional but peculiar taste in commentary and humor elicits his own sharp commentary and witty remarks. 

When they part, Eren’s chest feels the fullest it has been in a long time. 

And for once, he’s content to let himself be just a human being again. Just for a moment.

Chapter Text

Eren barely finishes rounding the corner into the hospital’s back courtyard when he smells Zeke’s apprehensive scent mixing with the crisp fall air. If it wasn’t for the scent of wet fur undertones clearly showing his displeasure, his damp leaves scent would've been indistinguishable from nature’s current dutifully seasonal scent of browning leaves, pumpkins, and dusty knitted sweaters.

Once his back hits the coarse, brick wall of the building, they stare out into the setting sun over Liberio…

…And they keep staring in silence. 

Nothing new to Eren – silence. It used to be something that’d lull him easily to sleep alongside the rustling of tall grass or his father’s page turning to his books. Or it was his mother’s humming alongside a bubbling pot of stew for dinner while he set the table with Mikasa. Later, Eren got to know the kind of silence destruction brings in hungry and lost children keeping him up late into the night while he was sandwiched between his best friends’ snores. 

It’s a phantom pressure. Sometimes a peace from the noise to rest under, like curling up under warm bed covers with Reiner’s arm securely wrapped around his waist at one point in time. Other times, a good method to get someone to talk, like being held under Captain Levi’s scrutinizing eye asking whether he was human or a monster. 

This evening’s silence, however, is preceded by the kind of pressure that every single human being has made acquaintances with at least once in their lives, and everyone can agree that it’s an unpleasant silence. The type that a messily scrawled note of “we need to talk a.s.a.p.” brings. 

“You and Reiner, huh?” 

Eren feigns his surprise intake of breath through a sniff. He flexes his fingers one by one around the grip of his crutches and settles himself more heavily against the brick wall. 

“What about me and Reiner?”

“Let’s not dance around the subject,” Zeke lightly continues as if he’s commenting on what he had for lunch and not his little brother and his subordinate’s rendezvous. “You two have been meeting up recently. Several weeks in fact.” 

“Says who?”

“A little birdy mentioned it… Along with a horse, two cats, and a dog,” Zeke answers cryptically. 

Eren winces. It has actually been more than several weeks, in fact. Almost two month’s worth of him meeting with Reiner in total. It’s only been several weeks since Reiner has met Carlan, though, and he’s been a new addition to Eren’s weekend morning grocery runs for the past two weeks – a fact that makes Eren double check that he isn’t in some kind of fever dream every other day.

Eren and Reiner had mentioned one of their grocery trips in front of Falco a week back. It was a gut reaction, old habits still ingrained in them from when they used to be cadets. With anything new they’d experience, whether it’s a combat maneuver or a free snack from the markets, Reiner would ask for Eren’s thoughts about it at a later point in time. This time, he had wanted to know what he thought of the new fruit they found that neither of them had tried before and the alpha decided to buy them one each. If word had spread from anyone, it’d start from Falco.

“So.” Zeke continues, "Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?”

Probably the biggest scandal on this side of Marley.

“There’s nothing.” 

“There better be nothing. I don’t need him discovering our plans, much less our associations altogether. Nor do I want to hear how he might be taking advantage of you or your pup in any way.” 

Zeke would never understand how deeply mutual that phrase is, especially to the whole nature of Eren, Carlan, and Reiner’s relationship and shared history. While Eren doesn’t know Zeke well enough to gauge how he’d react to finding out that his favorite, and only, nephew has been Reiner’s son this entire time – not to mention the fact that Eren and Reiner were partners during their time on Paradis – the omega does have a feeling that it might end as disastrously as that one time a couple of military police volunteers accidentally broke half of the plates in the dishware cabinet of the room Levi assigned them to clean.

The brunet shrugs, aloof. “You won’t have to worry about it.” 

“How can I be so sure?” 

“We haven’t been turned into the authorities yet despite how long it’s been. And if I had any problems, you would’ve known by now,” Eren lists. “Speaking of which- my bumping into him and the rest of your crew? Technically, your fault.”

“I didn’t tell you to mingle with the warriors.”

“You didn’t make it easy to avoid them.” 

“I dunno. Sounds like an issue in skill to me.” 

Slowly, Eren swivels his head around to pierce Zeke’s growing smirk at his jibe with a glare filled with the combined rage of all of his attack titan’s lifetimes. If looks could stab, Zeke’s smirk would’ve been slashed clean off his face. 

His brother waves a hand in an attempt to calm down his brother when he reassures, “Don’t worry. There isn’t much for you to do now but wait, after all. I’m sure I can relocate you back to working under Arden’s supervision again and get you out of everyone’s hair... If they’re not seeking you out themselves now that some of them have taken a liking to you.” 

Eren sighs in resignation at the truth of Zeke’s words, and gently thumps the back of his head against the wall behind him. 

“But, am I reading this right?” Zeke asks incredulously, “Reiner does recognize you, has interacted with you on more than one occasion, and he’s willing to leave you alone?” He ducks his head and looks up at Eren past his bangs, squinting his eyes so hard in his perplexity, he wouldn't be surprised if Zeke walks away this evening with a few more permanent wrinkles around his eyes.

“He says he’d rather play it safe than trigger me and level the city as long as I keep my promise — I don’t do anything else besides be a civilian unless Marley declares war first. So, I’m letting him observe me for the time being. Not that he’d see much.”

“Alright… And this is miraculously keeping the peace between the two of you how?...” Zeke trails off for Eren to enlighten him of his ridiculous situation, almost more confused now than when they had started this conversation. 

“...I dunno.”

Even he truly doesn’t know how this is keeping Reiner at bay aside from the alpha listening to his good conscience on top of whatever the man is feeling after seeing his son. Should he question this more? Absolutely. But if Eren can lead Reiner on just a little longer like he did to him and the Scouts, well… Call it Eren taking what he’s owed at the least.

“Maybe I’m looking for vindication from the man who lied to me for three years. Maybe his guilty conscience is getting the better of him. Maybe seeing his enemy with a child is stopping him in this tracks. Either way, if he hasn’t done anything now, I doubt he will anytime soon,” Eren answers.

His brother stares disbelievingly at the answer for a minute before he finally laughs, thin and at a pitch that edges the boundaries between either genuine amusement or mania – Eren isn’t sure which. Zeke rubs his eye when he catches his breath to say, “Two things. One, I think I chose the right guy, or should I say the worst guy, as my Vice Chief. And second, I think you have a more twisted sense of humor than I do, little brother.” 

The alpha throws the leftover cigarette filter onto the ground and crushes the embers under his heel when he spins on it to depart. 

“Well, that’s all I needed to know. If I sense anything off, I’m yanking you out and I’m expediting his inheritance,” Zeke says his executionary statement nonchalantly with a flick of a wrist over his shoulder as a wave goodbye. 

“Oh,” Zeke stops mid step to look back at Eren to remind, “and tell my darling nephew his uncle Zekey says hi and that I miss playing catch with him!”

“You were playing catch by yourself the last time I brought him.” 

“I’m letting him do what they call ‘visual learning’. Eventually he’ll get it once he’s old enough to play catch!” Zeke proudly exclaims before fully exiting and leaving behind a bewildered Eren standing in silence. 

Later during dinner when Eren’s carefully teaching Carlan how to eat by himself with his smaller child-proof fork does he make the comment, “You have a strange uncle, Carlan…” 

Carlan blinks and chirps around a mouthful of dinner, “Zee-zee!”

Eren smiles and gently wipes the corners of Carlan’s mouth when he agrees, “That’s him. Also known as the monkey, according to a captain I know.”  

On the following day when he passes by a general store on his way to work, he spies a small and worn plush baseball in the bargain bin. He unconsciously pauses and stares at the item a little while longer…

And promptly continues walking right by it. He doesn’t need his child learning how to knock over furnishings in the house before the age of two. What’s the point in indulging in Zeke’s antics, anyways? His son would be gravitating to his favorite stuffed bird plush and his colorful collection of wooden blocks over anything new that Eren could introduce. Besides, he needs to save up money for heating in the winter. So what if he’s well on his way to having more than enough saved up if Reiner continues buying half of his groceries as he’s been doing…

Eren barely makes it to work on time with a carefully wrapped soft plush baseball at the bottom of his bag. 

“You know, you can make that yourself pretty easily at home,” Reiner says to the apple jam jar Eren is dropping into their grocery bag from the last stall they visited. Strawberries have finally left the season and apples have replaced them for the fall. Fortunately, it’s his and Carlan’s next favorite flavor.

“Tell that to one of my ruined pots.” Eren mumbles to Reiner’s comment.

“But- it’s just boiled sugar and fruit.”

“And not all of us are adept at cooking like you,” Eren grumbles. 

He had quit his efforts after that sorry attempt turning said pot from a cooking vessel into a utensil holder. Eren’s cooking skills didn’t expand that much further past the military grade meals they were taught to make as cadets during kitchen duty and wilderness survival classes. He learned the common spices in Marley and some of the plethora of new fruits and vegetables that he’d never seen before on Paradis, but that’s it after two years. Three years of Reiner’s guidance during their shared kitchen duties in the Training Corps and Niccolo’s one-time cooking demonstration aren’t enough to improve his current skills.

He ducks his head to hide his brow twitch of irritation at another one of his short failings, causing his bangs to fall forward over his face. 

Carlan whips his head towards Eren’s hair flowing into grabbing distance from his usual spot sitting against Eren’s chest and chirps happily at the opportunity to play musician or textile weaver with his dad’s locks. His child blissfully ignores the colorful bell peppers he and Eren were initially contemplating over. Meanwhile, out of the corner of Eren’s eye, he sees Reiner looking at them from the side, the turnips he was inspecting left forgotten in his hands in favor of watching them. 

Again.

Eren has lost count of how many times he’s caught Reiner staring at the two of them in the last three weeks. The count must be somewhere in the double digits by now.

They’re on their third consecutive weekend trip out to the markets. Together. Cordially. 

Marley’s shield, the devil of paradise, and their child are shopping for food while exchanging the occasional banter over the season’s fresh produce in another walled town across the sea. 

Their storage talks were one thing – enclosed in a quiet place out of sight and out of mind. But this ? There’s something inherently… Wrong about this. Practically unbelievable in any other scenario known to man. Eren would bet that the Paths in all of its two thousand years of otherworldly, unfathomable glory would never have anticipated such a context either. This very act crosses every line in the rules of the universe or at least common sense in that these elements shouldn’t be interacting with each other outside of conflict. They shouldn’t be interacting over something so mundane.

Something so- So… Oh, goddess– so domestic together such as grocery shopping as two former comrades now turned inextricable enemies. Two former lovers, a lie from a complicated time, now turned something grossly more complicated as estranged parents to top it all off.

Eighteen year old cadet Eren would’ve been a wreck.

A family trip with Reiner and their child? He’d descend into a blushing mess at the thought before catapulting himself into whatever practice regimen he could think of just to snap his head out of those types of daydreams. Kids came after marriage, after all, and the majority of them were still so young then that the mere thought of confessions and promises of forever outside of devoting one’s heart to the corps still stuttered the majority of them, including Franz and Hannah. And they were the married couple of the 104th training corps.

Those poor souls.

Marco had promised that he’d happily host the wedding at his family’s farm. Everyone was invited with an extended offer to the rest of the pack – that his place was always open for hang-outs, celebrations or any more happy unions after Franz and Hannah. 

Jean was a sputtering mess at the beta’s proposal. Ymir had pointed a finger at Marco, loudly swearing that she’ll hold him to his promise with her other arm draped over the shoulders of the former Krista. Eren remembered the wink the freckled boy had thrown his way sitting next to Reiner. And when Eren looked away out of embarrassment, he still remembers the warmth that coursed through him at finding Reiner’s flushed face beside him. Wide amber eyes that had reflected the flickering lantern glow of the canteen, staring at him with want and…

Eighteen year old Eren with burning ears tore himself out of his stupor after Reiner looked away sheepishly and weakly snapped at them all for getting too soft – how they will have the time for all of that after they take back their lands and exterminate the titans. 

What fools they all were, twenty year old Eren thinks.  

What an absolute fool he still is. Because Eren is still actively trying to not think about how Reiner dares to look at his son like so. All soft and hazy, the late morning light blurring his edges as if his plates of armor never found a place amidst his skin in the first place. A harrowingly similar sight to the fuzzy shape of the boy blushing alongside them so long ago. Reiner’s gentle expression smoothes easily into a delicate smile when Carlan notices his attention and waves at his father. 

Unlike Reiner, Eren doesn’t care if he gets caught shamelessly staring while lost in thought at the walking anomaly beside him.

Upon being discovered, as if either of them was that subtle to begin with as trained soldiers, the blonde clears his throat, and continues his earlier train of thought, “I’m sure you’re missing a step or something.” 

Eren blinks. Ah. Cooking. His ruined pot. Normal civilian things Eren thought they’d never experience together again after all that’s happened between them. Human things he thought he didn’t have the right to experience again after Reiner took back the mantle of enemy and Eren branded himself as Paradise’s devil.

“...Right,” Eren looks away. “And I bet you know how to make it better?” He prods while he drops his bag of bell peppers in the grocery bag Reiner presently has the honors, and arm space, to carry.

“I do make jams for Gabi from time to time. She likes apricots in the spring and figs in the fall.”

“How nice of you... So you still- you do enjoy cooking?”

“...Yes.” Reiner confirms, his voice growing distant. “Of course, I can't do much during a war on the field, but I try whenever I can.” 

The blonde had liked kitchen duty. At this point, Eren wasn’t sure if it was because Reiner wasn’t used to how bland Paradis’ foods were and had wanted to save his own taste buds or if he genuinely enjoyed the act. But the food had always tasted better whenever it was both him and Sasha in the kitchens, at least in Eren’s opinion.

“Speaking of, your birthday wasn’t too long ago. Did you do that tradition of yours?” Eren pushes curiously, barely hiding his poor attempt at piecing together the amalgamation of parts that was the man named Reiner Braun.

“Sort of,” Reiner mumbles as he pays for their produce and continues their slow pace onto the next stall. “The war ended right after my birthday this year so I just helped my mom cook for our family dinner celebrating our return when I came back.” 

Eren hums wordlessly at that.

Traditions and tiny habits he’s observed from Reiner that Eren used to think were endearing country town quirks. Intrinsically Reiner mannerisms Eren has come to find were all Marleyan in origin, and now, with a mom that was in fact not presumed dead like his according to what little Reiner mentioned of his family in the past.

Reiner had said that he had missed his birthday tradition with his mom back then. A tradition where the birthday host was the one who cooks and provides the food for the celebration – sometimes even obligated to do so the older they are. Not the other way around on Paradis, to the shock of everyone in the barracks. Even Bertholdt and Annie admitted how they preferred “their” – Paradis’ – traditions instead, and scandalized Reiner’s hometown pride in the process. 

Despite this, the rest of the pack compromised towards their last year in the training corps. Half of them had picked up extra shifts and collected their allowances to buy Reiner all of the ingredients for a small cake for him to bake in secret when their superiors weren’t looking. They had carefully stacked their kitchen duty time slots to trade with the alpha to give him the longest duration in the kitchen as possible to pull off the feat. 

Eren remembers the utter glee and look of determination on Reiner’s face when they presented the cake ingredients and their allotted time slots as their shared gift to the alpha. The joy that illuminated the blonde’s face in baking the small sponge cake was a memory Eren cherished along with the emotional misty eyes he had when all twelve of them enjoyed it together. The fluffy treat was sweet from the honey. And that honey had tasted even sweeter on Reiner’s lips later that evening after they forgot about the crackers they had initially smuggled the leftover honey for.

“And you?” Reiner starts, “Do you still exercise whenever you can?”

The brunet doesn’t like that he has to physically tear his gaze away from a small jar of honey he sees at their current stall.

“When I can. It’s harder to find time because- you know,” Eren glances down at Carlan who’s moved on to looking around at his surroundings in wonder. Plus, he’s had to find different move sets to adjust to his missing eye and leg. “But I make do.”  

Softly, Reiner admires, “That’s nothing short of incredible.”

“Incredibly exhausting,” Eren breathes, an airy tone that carries no malice or frustration aside from the obvious notes of natural fatigue of being a single parent. “But that’s ok.”

“...It explains a lot of our earlier meetings. Your coffee dependence and the subtle change in your scent.”

“Yeah…,” Eren remarks. He looks at Reiner and admits, “Being here explained a lot of our earlier meetings too.” 

A small frown forms on the blonde’s brows as he sympathetically meets Eren’s eye. There’s too many people around for Eren to discern Reiner’s scent, but Reiner’s steady but sorrowful stare and the ensuing silence between them is telling enough. No disagreements to voice, and, for once, both adults are impressively not breaking down from the reminder of all of their broken parts that lay between them. It’s some improvement. Although calling this an improvement – this weak tip-toeing around said titan-sized broken parts – feels like an understatement.

He breaks eye contact first to resume his perusing, but before Eren could find an excuse to move on he sways a bit as his center of balance shifts unexpectedly. He catches himself fine by readjusting his crutches. Reiner’s on him in an instant, balancing their grocery bags on one hand while his other is placed on his back.

“Are you alright?” he asks while his eyes flicker over both him and Carlan and their immediate surroundings in worry, inspecting for anything amiss.

“I’m fine,” Eren answers as he looks down calmly at their toddler chaperone, “This one however…”

The culprit starts making little unhappy noises and fidgeting in his sling. Eren coos at his pup and Carlan looks up with an adorable pout. 

“Growing restless, kiddo?” Eren asks. It doesn’t take much to confirm his suspicions with the way Carlan’s foot tries to find purchase against Eren’s side, but kicks him in the ribs instead. It didn’t hurt, but Eren still winces for keeping his son in a sling for so long. It felt like it was just yesterday when Carlan was still a baby that had to be carried everywhere and would settle in his sling like it was his second crib. Now, he’s growing more restless as he’s eager to develop his legs and walk on his own.

They really do grow up fast, don’t they? 

“Hang on a bit longer, okay?” Looking up – Ah, Reiner’s staring again – Eren suggests, “We should probably wrap up this trip.” 

They go through the rest of the stalls quickly and smoothly, only getting necessities and not dwelling on anything new for too long. He hands Reiner the vegetables he’s noticed the alpha usually reached for just as Reiner grabs the right amount of bread rolls Eren tends to gather. They’re placing items in unspoken open hands before any request is voiced, and Eren doesn’t expect the havoc that familiar movements and the brushing of their fingers could wreak on the carefully contained ball of emotions he’s done his damnedest to force deeper down and out of mind within his chest cavity.

Once they’ve retrieved all they needed and start their walk out of the markets, Eren glances about for a free bench to settle on, but there’s none in sight. It’s late into their morning and most of the earlier crowd, mainly the elderly, have taken up the already sparse resting spots after their similar food runs. 

“If you want…” Reiner says while he adjusts both of their bags, “there’s a small park not far from here. There should be some open spaces at this hour where Carlan can move around.” 

“That works.” 

It’s a square Eren’s been to a few times. It was one of the few public parks in Liberio that had an open garden and a decently maintained grass area compared to the rest of the internment zone’s dirt streets. He tended to borrow the hospital wards’ emptier grass courtyards instead though, since the emptiness made it easier to keep watch over Carlan while keeping his head down and forgettable. 

They find an open bench under the shade of a tree. Before setting Carlan down, Eren first faces his son and frowns. He makes sure his son sees his expression when he takes a deep breath to calmly and slowly chide, “I know sitting for so long isn’t fun kiddo. But kicking dada isn’t a good way to tell me you want to move. That can hurt, you know. I think just wiggling your legs is fine. Can you point at your legs for me?”

Carlan follows his dad’s words with wide eyes and does just that after he registers his request. Then Eren goes through what he’s learned as a parent in starting new habits for his son to learn. It’s slow going, but he’s seen Carlan pick up on so many things in his small life already that Eren trusts the process. He may be a shoddy parent, but Carlan is an incredibly smart child – an aspect so uniquely Carlan, Eren doesn’t think he got that from either him or Reiner. Thus, with their combined efforts, they have a system of learning that works for them. 

Eren gently sets Carlan down on the ground after getting him to start wiggling his legs . Meanwhile, Reiner sets down their grocery bags in the space beside Eren.

He makes sure his son is on steady legs first before letting him go and watches him bolt off. Well, bolt off as quickly as developing toddler legs can carry. Carlan waddles around their bench area, his tiny legs moving one at a time in awkward and unfamiliar movements around Reiner and back towards Eren, not wanting to stray too far away from him. Reiner stills his movements beside him to watch the tiny ball of movement clumsily, but surely try his steps with a hand outstretched towards the bench for extra support.

“He seems to be well on his way to walking on his own…” Reiner wistfully notes. “When did he start?” 

“Sometime around eleven months. So, seven months ago?,” Eren does his best to recall. 

Reiner makes a noncommittal noise when he watches his son pass by him again. “That’s good. It’s on track, if I remember from when Gabi was growing up.”

“Yeah. It’s ‘so far, so good’ according to his doctor.”

“Good...”

They trail off painfully awkwardly and Eren despises how the strange silence between them over their own child somehow prickles at his skin under his autumnal layers. 

He should be leaving by now. They usually part ways after getting their groceries and don’t meet again until the weekdays in the storage shed. Now, Reiner stands there, fidgeting his weight on his legs with a hand wrapped around his bag, but making no move to leave while his eyes are trained on their son. 

All of Carlan’s first words, first steps, and a plethora of other tiny wonders Eren discovered alongside him are held tightly to his chest. He can recall them moment by moment — what the weather was that day, what words were said, the immediate setting, and so on. Now that Reiner’s somewhat back in the picture, Eren sighs at all the aspects Reiner never got to experience from his son’s life…

“If you’re just going to stand there, you might as well make yourself useful,” Eren starts. He ignores Reiner’s surprised breath and points ahead of him. “Leave your bag. Then walk two meters there and face me.”

After Reiner tentatively makes his way over to where Eren designates him, Eren guides Carlan over to face him towards Reiner. He leans over one of Carlan’s shoulder and points to the blonde over his other shoulder. 

“See him, kiddo? Wanna walk to Reiner?” 

Carlan looks up between Eren and where his dad is directing him to go before he begins waddling unsurely to someone he’s never walked towards before. Meanwhile the blonde is snapping his head up between Eren and Carlan as if he’s confirming that this was alright for him to do. However, Eren is a little proud of Reiner when he doesn’t wait for his cue to immediately crouch and greet his son once he makes the short distance over. He holds his much larger hands out for Carlan’s tinier ones to steady himself.

When Carlan notices he’s holding onto Reiner, he lets out a gleeful chirp that melts the alpha instantly at seeing his son brighten up in his presence.

“Want to help teach him how to walk?” Eren finally offers. “As you can see, I can only do so much.” 

Eren does just fine, but Carlan has a bad habit of lifting up one leg to mimic his dad from time to time and subsequently falling over and hurting himself if Eren doesn’t catch him fast enough. Plus, if Reiner wanted to be more involved, he should take this opportunity. 

After a moment, Eren sees his answer in the way Reiner gently closes his hands around Carlan’s as he gives Eren a resolute nod.

“I’ll do my best.”

Reiner, minding his large stature and strength, carefully leads their son forward one step at a time. Hand in hand, he gives simple instructions to help guide Carlan to take better steps for his practice today. Now that Reiner’s holding both of Carlan’s outstretched hands to help him walk, Eren can see just how much Reiner dwarfs their child. He’s shrinking himself inwards, making himself as small as he can so he can squat-waddle alongside Carlan but the toddler is still so much smaller against his broad silhouette. 

After Reiner makes sure Carlan is used to the newer and improved steps Reiner is trying to impart onto him, he gently pushes him off to walk back towards Eren to apply his teachings. The brunet couldn’t fight back the smile at the toddler happily bounding back to his dad’s open arms, Reiner’s teachings be damned. And from the looks of it, Eren's pretty sure Reiner doesn't mind either if his warm expression is anything to go by. Eren ruffles his son's hair affectionately before turning him back towards Reiner.

They continue this exchange a few times. Both parents relax and let their tension dissipate with their son’s infectious laughter while he crunches away at the grass beneath his feet. 

On their nth rotation of Carlan running back towards Reiner, the toddler reaches his arms up towards his dad and simply says, “Up!”

Eren’s heart clenches at how much Carlan has grown comfortable around Reiner, and sits back against the bench. 

“Do you even know how to hold a child?,” Eren asks pointedly, and in his way, letting the man know that he can hold him if he knew. “And no. Knowing how to haul grown soldiers doesn’t count.”

“I think I have a general idea.” 

“No pressure. If you drop him-”

“You’ll kill me and level the city. As you should at that point – at least the first half.”

With a few pointers from Eren and Reiner first testing Carlan’s weight, the alpha now securely holds his son in his arms for the first time in his life and Eren forgets how to breathe.

Carlan’s eyes glow at the new perspective he’s seeing that high up compared to what he usually sees in his sling as he whips his head around. Reiner’s chuckling at his son’s renewed energy as his little hands reach in various directions to point at the things that catch his attention. The blonde names everything Carlan points to – the clouds, the sky, the tree, the leaves, the ground, the flowers. They gently spin in place as Reiner adjusts to where Carlan is pointing.

They were a scene straight out of Eren’s traitorous mind during the most tiring nights during the earlier months of being a sudden new parent. 

And right here, Eren knows what he sees. 

Patient and proud Reiner, happy to help and lead others into growing and improving at their own pace. He’d offer the best of his expertise and fine tune himself to match what someone needed, giving heartfelt praises after well earned progress. The same attention and admiration he’d once aimed at Eren that made him flushed and content, utterly pleased from the attention and support from a fellow comrade, his mentor turned friend, his partner, his-

“The people you thought you knew don’t exist! They’re dead!” Reiner screamed with the burning red sunset behind him, lighting him and everything Eren used to know of them on fire.

Eren’s lips tremble and his smile dims. The omega takes a deep breath and crosses his arms in some semblance of comfort, suddenly feeling exhausted. Conflicting memories weigh him down – even more confounding now at the view in front of him, at all he’s come to rediscover in the past months from Reiner. 

Reiner’s cooing at their energetic son, telling him how he should be careful while he adjusts the skewed child-sized armband on his arm. 

Eren latches onto the irritation at the spectacle and runs with it. Anything to smother the well of emotions that makes him want to drop Carlan off at the Grices this evening so he could spend some time with a bottle or two. 

“I can’t believe babies and kids have to wear them.” Eren starts with a scowl, recollecting himself into familiar dissatisfaction.

“It’s, sadly, just how it is,” Reiner sighs, his own smile dimming at Eren’s shift in focus. 

“Yeah? Is it also just how it is with how little of a difference it is between your armband and ours?” Eren critiques with a frown. 

“Eren . Mind where we are…” Reiner says quietly as a warning while looking over his shoulders and their surroundings, likely checking that no one is close enough to hear them.

“Just my observations from being here as long as I have.” He does quiet his voice in his reply.

Reiner walks back over to Eren and gently delivers Carlan back into his arms, grazing their fingers together before settling on the bench space beside him. They don’t sit as close as they used to as cadets with their sides near flushed against each other, but it's closer than the distance they maintain in the storage shed. Another puzzling familiarity they’ve somehow found themselves in once again after how many times they’ve walked so close next to each other in the farmer’s market crowd. Eren’s sole grocery bag separates them on the bench, but they’re close enough to where Reiner can lower his voice further to continue his explanations.  

“It’s also its history and what it symbolizes that you should also take into account. The status of Honorary Marleyan was started by the Tybur family after all.” 

“You mean the ones who sold out their own people for a seat in high government?” 

“No,” Reiner corrects, as if this was a lecture, “The ones who sacrificed their position from the previous Eldian Empire and uplifted the former oppressed Marleyans. They defend the rights of present day Eldians on the mainland and are one of the most respected families in the world.”

Eren suppresses the urge to roll his eye as he soothingly runs his hands through Carlan’s hair, futilely brushing down the flyaway strands from their playing. “How does that garner any respect? They get to live luxuriously on their laurels in their mansion while the rest of their people are still treated like cattle and used as weaponry.”

Reiner rubs the back of his neck. “It’s our atone-”

“Stop,” Eren immediately snaps, cutting the man off, “I've heard enough of that part of your history.” It’s best to stop them now before they start on a tangent that will definitely get them reported to the authorities. “The Tyburs,” he refocuses, “What are they doing now that is helping anything?”  

“They do a lot of government work from sanctioning trade and our freedoms within the internment zone to maintaining respect for Honorary Marleyans nationally and with other countries.” 

“Really?” Eren hums, keeping his tone scalding to veil his curiosity at how much Reiner knows of the man that’s been so integral to his and Zeke’s plans. “Last I checked, they’re recluses who never leave their estate.”

“Not entirely true. They just have a very… Controlled and protected manner of movement. Not even the warriors are made aware of his whereabouts,” Reiner admits.

“How pleasant,” the brunet dryly comments. Which also means that Reiner or the warriors wouldn’t help in his search for the man whatsoever. 

Reiner levels his eyes at Eren before neutrally replying, “Allegedly… I’ve met Willy Tybur once and he seems like a charismatic person.”

“Recently?” 

It was brief, but Reiner’s eyes narrowed and Eren knew he overstepped. He curses internally, falling for Reiner’s trap. Serves him right trying to see if he could get any more information out of Reiner of all people – someone who clearly knows his existence here isn't innocent at all. As cooperative as he’s been, this might be the bounds of how much Reiner will overlook. Reiner keeps his voice neutral, albeit a touch airy at catching Eren's slip up, “No. It was when we became warriors and he gifted us our armbands.” 

“...Anyways,” the brunet scoffs and drops the topic, “his respect sounds disappointing.” 

Disappointing like everything else outside the walls he knows. From the discriminatory forum he and the Scouts observed, the greed of the Azumabitos, to his own actions in the future. Everything has failings so abysmal that Eren can’t see any peaceful outcome in anyone’s futures but the ones he will protect.

“Careful with those types of thoughts,” Reiner tiredly warns, unsurprised with Eren’s obvious disagreement with their way of life, “It’s grounds for suspicion.”

“Yes,” Eren waves, “I know how much everyone here hunts each other harder than the Scouts hunt titans.” 

Reiner’s breath hitches at the comparison before he sits forward and turns to face Eren properly. “Which is why you need to take greater caution, not just with your thoughts. ” 

“Such consideration to your enemy.”

“To Carlan’s dad,” Reiner emphasizes, the arches of his brows set sharper when he asserts his statement. Eren holds himself back from grimacing at the near reprimand coming from the blonde. “He deserves to have you in his life- for as long as he can,” Reiner quickly tacks on the last phrase at the last minute, a somber tone smoothing over his features at remembering their unfortunate circumstance. “If I’ve learned anything about you, I think – or, at least, I thought – that you would want that as well.”

Now that was unfair. Especially when it’s guaranteed that they’ll return to their rightful places on their respective war fronts. While they only have several years left to either of their names, his son will be tucked far, far away. Somewhere Eren will never return to when the time comes.

“Ideally,” Eren says tersely as he caresses Carlan’s cheek with a slight tremor to his hands. He turns and faces Reiner. “That goes for both parents, don’t you think?” 

Something flashes through his eyes that Eren couldn’t decipher quickly enough before the alpha smooths over his features. But Eren does catch the subtle scent of sorrow from him that he hates how he’s grown accustomed to over his time here. 

Reiner lets out a long breath as his sights shift down to look at Carlan, settled comfortably and tiredly in Eren’s lap with fatigue finally catching up to him. Carlan reaches out a lazy hand to Reiner and Reiner naturally meets him halfway. Tiny fingers wrap one of his fingers and Reiner slowly shakes his hand.

“...Ideally,” Reiner softly echoes. 

Eren sits up in his bed as his child sleeps soundly in his crib beside him that night. He sighs and presses his back harder against the wall the bed is shoved against. 

“It’s true we may have deceived everyone, but it wasn’t all a lie! We really considered you as comrades!” Bertholdt screamed behind him with so much anguish, Eren paused. And for a moment, he had to force himself to not believe him. 

He brings his knees to his chest and curls up tighter on himself with a migraine pulsing painfully behind his eyelids.

What is he doing?

He keeps Reiner so close, keeping an eye on him. And for what? 

So he can catch him slip up – detect any second thoughts from the alpha that could endanger him, his son, and his mission. At least, that’s what Eren tells himself. To keep using him for whatever Eren can extort him to do under the threat of unleashing the Founder’s power onto his home. Enact a sense of karma-

He’s fraternizing with the enemy. 

He’s fucking fraternizing with his enemy – that’s what he’s doing, plain and simple.

This is different from what he’s doing with Zeke. He’s using him so he can cause the Rumbling, nothing more and nothing less. Unbeknownst to his brother, Eren will betray him and choose Paradis’ future over the rest of the world’s when the time comes and there’s nothing he can do about it.

However, Eren’s being every bit the traitor he is by letting Reiner back into his life, their son’s life and all the moments in between. Eren didn’t need to continue their talks at work or their time together at the markets and potentially endanger his plans. And yet here he is, with a form of armistice between him and the man. Allowing them to reform their conversations of old and catalog all the things that made the other different and yet unchanged after all this time apart. 

And that’s not all. He’s also helping Reiner or whatever the hell this is they’re doing that has the man demanding less for death by Eren’s hand and more for paying his groceries and having time with their child.

All for Eren to discover what were lies and what weren’t. And he doesn’t like the harrowing answer he finds.

A pained breath leaves his lungs. Lungs that constrict from the reasons Eren has slowly come to acknowledge but doesn’t know how to come to terms with. 

This is going to make the end of this shared road of theirs hurt so much more than if he had stayed away, that he knows. They’re soldiers through and through — they’ll fight until the bitter end, as is their nature. And yet they’re humans too. Humans with the capability of nurture that stands defiant against the very nature of war with their son being the living proof of that. Although, Eren can't help but wonder if those two concepts were more alike than he thought. Not elements that stand in opposition against each other but interwoven traits that have always stood side by side, revolving around one another...

Eren closes his eyes and massages his temples as Bertholdt’s words ring in his head. 

Wouldn’t it be easier if all they had was a lie? 

The week continues as is. Eren makes no move to change his ways and he continues to lie to himself over his and Reiner’s present actions. He still drops Carlan off at either the maternity ward’s daycare or the Grice’s, and barely bats an eye to Reiner’s company whenever he visits alongside Falco. Their conversations still eb and flow smoothly with each other and their silences are never too suffocating after having run out of, or staying away from, sensitive or critical topics.  In other words, life continues as normal for the holder of the Attack and Founding Titans biding his time until the next stages of his and Zeke’s plan. 

Everything is still normal when he ignores the growing headache he has one morning and figures he will just wait it out like all headaches. It’ll pass. Later that morning, he feels his senses slightly heightened and that joins his headaches on the list of things he’ll wait out today when he makes his way to work. He has been feeling irritated and exhausted as of late – probably from his sleep-depriving dilemma over Reiner which could be causing all the plethora of physical inconveniences. 

He has a quiet morning today. He won’t expect Reiner or Falco until the end of his shift after his break so Eren gets right to work unloading boxes, sorting them, and counting inventory. 

Midway through his tasks, he feels flushed enough to start shedding his outer coat and rolling up his sleeves despite the increasingly colder autumn weather. The exhaustion must be getting to him if he’s breaking out in a mild sweat after hopping about this early in the day. He thinks nothing else of it, he’ll cool off eventually, and begins tallying items.

Towards the end of his tasks however, his focus starts to waver. 

The numbers blur and – how many was that count again? Eren recounts the present box of items three more times, and somehow winds up with three different sums each time. How that is possible, Eren has no idea as he’s pinching the bridge of his nose to ease the headache that still hasn’t faded. He takes a deep breath and stares down at the work as if that would intimidate the statistics, or his persisting ailments, to clear up on its own. 

A break. A break sounds great right about now. It can help clear his head and help him pull himself together. 

He drapes his coat over his shoulders before heading out. Eren is still flushed enough to not feel like wearing it, but he didn’t want to find himself without it in case he does cool down while out.

Eren is lounging outside in his usual spot against the side wall of the mess hall, settling on water for the day and lost in thought as to why the hell the sun is all of sudden making his eye water when the warrior candidates bound their way up to him, ready to enjoy their small break in company. He gives them all his usual quiet greeting as the candidates’ classified ‘wallflower’ and doesn’t pay them any mind when they settle down and absorb themselves in their own interests during their break. 

What isn’t normal and finally makes Eren consider that something probably isn’t right is when his head starts to swim. 

He suppresses a groan at the sudden shift despite standing still. He bows his head and presses the cool metal of his water canister against his forehead in a poor attempt at easing his headache and how flushed he still feels. 

“Um… Mister Kruger?” Falco starts, his worry clearly palpable in the way he starts, “Are you okay?” Something in his tone tells Eren that the child already knows the answer to his own question.

“I’m fine… I’m probably just exhausted,” Eren reasons. However, the last time Eren reasoned that he was simply exhausted despite the plethora of symptoms was when he was literally about to go into labor with Carlan.

“Sir, you look pale,” Gabi points out rather bluntly, but she shares the same expression as the rest of the candidates in their worry. 

“Are you perhaps getting sick? It is the season,” Udo offers. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can get approved to head home.” 

“Perhaps…,” Eren agrees. Shifters don’t get sick, so it can’t be that. But his healing hasn’t been activated for several years. Maybe that does affect his immune system and he’s caught something.

“Mister Kruger, If I may ask if it’s not too personal- you don’t have to answer…” Zophia begins curiously and waits for his hum to continue, “When was your last heat?”

Only two months ago, Eren didn't openly answer. Omegas usually have three to four heats a year, like alphas and their ruts. H e shouldn’t have another one until next month or so. Unless…

...No.

With a sharp intake of  breath, Eren’s eye widens and he scrambles to push himself off the mess hall wall.

“Excuse me,” Eren immediately pardons himself and makes his way back to the storage shed as fast as he can on crutches.

Fuck. 

The headaches, the sensitivity – how weak and flushed he feels. His quickly worsening symptoms don’t lie.

Fuck.

His heat is here early.

Chapter Text

Once Eren arrives back to his storage room, he immediately rips open his work bag and digs for his spare scent blockers as he curses to high heavens.

His heat is early. Too early. 

They’ve always been regular. He can count them down to the week, sometimes the day. His pregnancy disrupting them obviously didn’t count, but for every other heat he’s had, it's been like clockwork much to Eren’s dismay — it’s the second most predictable aspect in his life.

Sure, for his current heat, he is supposed to be off his suppressants. Eren and his doctor agreed for him to take them on alternating heats to lessen the more worrying side effects of Marley’s medicine. However, this year has gone by fine with nothing of note.

He growls in irritation as he unsticks his hair from the back of his clammy neck.

So why is this one irregular all of a sudden?…

No matter. Right now, Eren’s stuck in the middle of Marley in pre-heat on a military base that has more alphas and betas than omegas. With newly applied scent blockers that should last him until later in the afternoon, he tosses on his jacket and, in true compulsory Eldian work ethic fashion, Eren goes to fight tooth and nail against his supervisor to let him go home early. If he has to hear anything about the graciousness of Marley and his current workplace contract with them one more time, he’s going to actually use his crutches like they were ODM swords.

Things become a blur once he manages to speed-crutch his way back to the internment zone. He first swiftly picks up Carlan and packs his travel bag to safely deliver him to the Grices along with his last minute apologies to both his son and the family for the sudden last minute plans. He then double checks his food storage to make sure he has enough non-perishables that’ll last the rest of the week. Now, Eren is paying a trip to Arden to pick up whatever medicine they have in stock that could help ease his heat in case any further complications arise. 

“Well that’s unfortunate,” Arden flatly comments as he efficiently dives toward the designated cabinet that holds their constantly low supply of medicine after hearing the omega’s brief explanation. 

“That’s an understatement.” 

“You should go now,” the doctor urges as glass bottles rattle against each other from his practiced rummaging, “I can have Colt or someone else run more meds or supplies to you later this evening.” 

“I’m fine,” Eren insists and breathes in the heavy herbal scent of their medicine room that masks the alpha’s scent, “You’re my last visit before heading straight home.” 

The doctor rolls his eyes with a sigh and chooses to focus on counting pill capsules instead of arguing with Eren for now. “I don’t suppose you know of any recent life developments that might have affected this?”

“None. My lifestyle hasn’t changed.” There is the little fact that he’s eating slightly better thanks to a certain someone spending more money on his groceries than needed, but that can’t possibly affect his heat. 

The doctor presses his lips into a thin line in speculation as he hands Eren what he came here for in a paper bag. “Hm, while it could be a simple early heat, I want to make sure it’s just that. I’ll get you scheduled for a quick check-up sometime in the next week,” he says while accompanying Eren to the door. 

Eren barely makes it several steps out the front entrance when he has to take a moment to catch his breath as his symptoms stubbornly remind him of their existence. It’s been almost several hours since he found out about his heat and he’s pretty sure the growing stress since then is worsening his state. With an inhale of cool, autumn air to fill his lungs, he’s collapsing onto the closest courtyard bench, hoping to settle down the hot flashes and fatigue making his hands shake.

This is absurd. He’s a shifter for fuck’s sake. Graduated top five of the training corps only for his heat to do him in.  

“Kruger, I highly recommend letting me find someone to help escort you home,” Arden insists, still hovering nearby.

Eren glares at the alpha and grits out through his teeth, ”For the last time, I don’t-” 

A familiar scent makes him lose any and all trains of thought. Thank the Paths that he’s sitting down or else he’d be swaying on his feet at the growing scent of amber, pine, and a hint of leather that he can practically feel himself latching onto. It takes everything in him to not just deeply drink in the air like a depraved omega because he absolutely isn't . He’s just starting his heat, damn it, and an alpha with a scent he’s always liked is walking into his vicinity. So what if that alpha is- 

“Reiner!” Arden greets, taking a step towards the warrior and partially in front of Eren, “Been a while since I’ve last seen you. Do you have an appointment today?”

“Hello, Doctor Arden. No, but more importantly,” Reiner greets politely, and immediately segues himself with a snap of his head towards Eren, alarm coloring his features as he says, appalled, “You’re still not home?” 

“Had last minute prep,” Eren grits, fighting the sudden haziness that almost overwhelms his mind with Reiner’s appearance. Speaking of his appearance, Reiner still had work if Eren's memory serves him correct. A small crate doesn’t go unnoticed to Eren’s eye that the man is carrying, to which he asks, “What are you doing here?” 

The man shifts the unmarked container under one of his arms and briefly glances away before brusquely responding, “I’m dropping off supplies.” 

Does Marley send their famous warriors on basic supply drops into the internment zone, though? It sounded below their pay grade, but Eren shrugs and settles on Reiner’s answer.

The doctor shifts in place to eye the two of them with a tilt of his head. Surprised, he inquires, “Oh, you two are…?” 

“We’re colleagues,” Eren haphazardly explains, “And I should get going.”

”You are not seriously walking back in your current state,” Reiner interrupts, concerned.

Eren snorts and looks up with a glare, “Or what? I stay here and attract every alpha in the vicinity?” 

Reiner’s jaw tick in aggravation at Eren’s remark and his scent spikes sharply. Eren scoffs. Marley alphas – Reiner leaves Paradis for two years and somehow he can’t take an omega barking back at him anymore. 

“Besides, It’s not a long walk. I’ll take my nest over a heat room, thanks,” Eren finalizes. 

Reiner shakes his head and levels Eren a critical gaze.

“Let me walk you back, then,” the blonde pleads while his brows crease in earnest, “Halfway, at least.” Eren didn’t even have enough time to start arguing when Reiner’s hazel gaze glances over to Arden briefly before turning to Eren to bear a glimpse his desperation and offers, “You can have the doctor send someone either of you trust to check on you later, but until then, let me or someone else make sure you at least make it home safely. Please.” 

Maybe it was the sun above making his head swim, or it was just the way Reiner had pleaded. Maybe it was Reiner’s increasingly noticeable scent that’s making it difficult for Eren to think properly. But something made Eren pause enough to think over his words. 

Half of his instincts are whispering, itching, to take the alpha home with him. Shove him into his nest and have their ways with each other like how they knew and liked once upon a time. Memories of a simpler time nag at him from the back of his mind, reminding him of how well Reiner once took care of him, especially during his insufferable heats. How nice it was to just let his partner carry him away without a worry and spend the heat trusting Reiner’s familiarity with every one of Eren’s ticks that he took the time to discover and learn to help soothe him through the week. All which would lead to Eren being more than happy to repay the favor during Reiner’s ruts.

Eren breathes in sharply, doing his best to focus on the autumnal scent around them instead of Reiner’s and lets out an aggressive sigh. Then, he faces Arden.

“I’ll have the Vice Chief walk with me and nothing more,” Eren settles, ready to get both alphas out of his hair and start heading back to the comfort of his nest. “Feel free to send someone to check up on me later,” The brunet belatedly adds. 

A sigh of relief escapes Reiner’s lips while Arden relaxes. A nurse respectfully leans out of the hospital doors to catch Arden’s attention. Something about an appointment that he’s needed for sooner rather than later.

The doctor quickly regards them both for final remarks, “Good. While I can vouch for Reiner, you let me know if he causes you any trouble, you hear me?” Arden gives Eren a pointed look that he then redirects the same gaze with an almost increased intensity towards the blonde, “And Reiner, please see to that Kruger makes it home safely and in one piece. I’ll be sending someone over later to make sure,” A subtle threat barely hides under his cordial tone now that Eren has acquiesced to both of their worries.  

Reiner nearly snaps to attention with the way his back straightens and he nods to the doctor’s orders. With a final glance, Arden spins on his heels and departs, leaving Reiner and Eren together in the courtyard. 

“Good grief…” Eren sighs. 

“Can you blame either of us?,” Reiner states, less as a question and more as a matter of fact. Both alpha’s concerns over him are realistically respectful and considerate in a world that is lacking in both, Eren will give them both that. However, that consideration is met with Eren’s growing lack of patience to get home and whatever pride that is still left in him at the need of depending on others.

“Yes, I can,” Eren petulantly says with a grunt, tightening his hands into fists around his crutch handles and promptly pulling himself up onto his foot. He leans heavier than he should on his crutches and starts making the trek to his flat. 

Reiner follows suit, comfortably matching his pace after weeks of practice and stepping in his spot beside him on Eren’s good side – the usual spot for Eren to level him a critical eye, his vulnerability in this situation is not lost on him. 

“If this is some elaborate plan-,” 

“ Eren ,” Reiner grinds out under his breath, his own growing agitation narrows his eyes and presses his lips tight together after nearly growling his name. His voice dropped to one of its lowest octaves, probably out of concern from anyone overhearing them. He’s heard it occasionally here and there throughout his time here. But, right now, right here, in this instance, did it really have to sound so gravelly and make Eren even more flushed than he already is? Dare Eren dwells on the thought, but it might have sounded deeper than what Reiner used to grunt into his ear in the past. 

If Eren's steps falter a beat at the comparison, Reiner was too busy recomposing himself to notice.

“Let’s get you back to your place,” Reiner breathes out after reigning in whatever else he must’ve also wanted to say. Their weeks of cordiality hangs over them like an obvious point, but that doesn’t lessen Eren’s hyperawareness or caution – he blames his heat. 

The brunet presses his lips shut in armistice and sharply breathes out his nose, starting their walk wordlessly. 

It’s not until they’re halfway to Eren’s flat when he has to pause and lean against a nearby wall to catch his breath. He winces at how disgusting he feels, the exertion combined with his preheat making him sweatier than usual. 

Reiner patiently waits and shifts awkwardly in place a few steps nearby, giving Eren an abundance of space. He turns his head subtly this and that way while his breathing comes out shallower. After briefly clearing his throat, the blonde tentatively suggests, “You should probably reapply your scent blocker.” 

Eren groans, “About that…” 

He’s wearing his last one – clearly having poorly underestimated how quickly his heat is setting in.

There’s no surprise in Reiner’s incredulous look that he immediately directs at him. An exasperated sigh leaves his lips as he looks around at the largely empty street. A few small crowds of citizens are going about their day, but no one is within their immediate vicinity. Eren won’t have to worry about any stray alpha pouncing on him aside from Reiner.

Speaking of the blonde, Reiner is unpinning his arm band from his coat sleeve and stripping his outer layer. 

Eren nearly whips his head around twice at seeing the gesture only for Reiner to hold his military coat out towards him.

”For the rest of the way. Wear this,” Reiner offers seriously, his tone bordering on a command rather than a request. Before Eren could even retort, Reiner says with a finalization, “If I can smell your scent as well as I do now, your blockers are going to wear out soon and I’d rather it not during the walk.” 

The method isn’t wrong. If there are no more ways to block a scent, masking will have to do before it gets worse. However, borrowing another’s clothes wasn’t a common practice aside from siblings or partners both in Marley and Paradis due to a number of reasons. Even as cadets, a good portion of their class were orphans after the fall of Wall Maria. Many of them were rather possessive between what little belongings they had left and whatever the military could ration for them. That being said, that never stopped Eren from slipping on one of Reiner’s shirts for his heats or Reiner drawing up his coat over Eren in winter.

On one hand, Eren wants to throw his stupid coat back at him. On the other, if his scent blockers were already failing now, he’d rather be safe than sorry. 

With another hard stare at the offending fabric, Eren adjusts his crutches and in one smooth motion, he snatches Reiner’s coat from his hand to toss over his current one.

It’s for his own good, Eren tells himself and does his best to ignore how familiarly and comfortably heavy, warm, and spacious Reiner’s coat feels over him, surrounding his senses in the alphas scent. How right that feels over his shoulders as a gentle imitation of what it was like being held in the blonde’s arms in the past.

Reiner clears his throat and shifts his eyes to the side when he asks, “Do you have a heat partner?”

All the comfort Eren found right then and there evaporates like steam. 

“…What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“To help you with your heats — it is easier-“

“You think I’d have a partner and do to them what you did to me?”

“What- no! That’s not what I- This is your health I’m talking about here.”

“Health, my ass-“ Eren shoves Reiner out of his way when he continues his trail at a quicker pace, his crutches forcefully hitting the ground with each step next to the sharper crunches of his boot sole. His restraint nearly all but gone as Reiner’s coat now felt stuffy and overbearing as Eren spits, “You treat all your omegas like me? Using us for ‘health’ before tossing us aside?” 

Hurt flashes plainly in Reiner’s eyes before they narrow and something darker veils it followed by a scowl quickly twisting his lips. “Really? Is this how you’re going to be?” 

“What else did you expect from asking me something like that? From you of all people.” 

They’re keeping their voices low so none of what they’re saying echoes off the stone walls around them and drifts toward unwanted ears, but their simmering anger is no less dulled. 

“Is that really how you saw it?” Reiner hisses, when he unroots himself from his stunned spot to easily catch up with Eren. “If I had wanted to use you, I wouldn’t have been just your partner.” 

“Oh, then I’m sure you’re more than happy being back home so you can have free reign with whoever you want, now” Eren snaps with an eye roll. It doesn’t help that Eren remembers how often omegas had asked Reiner to help with their heats in the past and how he did help a few of them earlier on when they weren’t even friends yet. “I bet there’s no shortage of willing omegas to pick from since you’ve been such a dutiful warrior.” 

While passing by a square Eren usually takes to get to his building, the leaves they stomp over barely hides Reiner’s bristling retaliatory comment changing the subject. He’s recalling Eren’s pickiness and how he guesses Eren might’ve actually gone through more alphas than Reiner has gone through omegas. But Reiner ultimately bets none of them lasted a night. And while Reiner wasn’t completely wrong in Eren’s failed attempts at finding a partner for the few heats he’s had in the past year, he’d rather chop off his other leg than admit it.

So instead, Eren bares his teeth when they make it to his building and calls out Reiner’s insistent ego, because what else could he possibly be doing except fishing some form of self-validation from Eren’s history with other alphas. The man glares ahead while retorting back denials, all the while he none too gently throws one of Eren’s arms over his shoulder to wrap his free arm around his waist and haul him up the flight of stairs towards the second floor where his apartment resides. 

For a moment, Eren was impressed that they both managed to somehow make it to the second floor while balancing their respective items, but that victory was short lived. After all the barbs they’ve been trading, Eren couldn’t get out of Reiner’s arms a fast enough — coupled by his crutches’ poor placement and misjudged balance, he sends them both crashing onto the ground. 

He fights his instinct to tense up. It’s one of the first things the training corps instilled into them. While falling should never happen considering the speed and heights they move at in ODM gear, the earlier days of training at survivable heights were the only places where they were allowed to fall. There, it was taught that it is always better to be relaxed than tense when falling as the latter increases injury.

While Eren definitely doesn’t need a concussion on top of his heat, he fully expects it. What he didn't expect was the impact and injury never arriving.

He finds himself blanketed by the warrior, one arm supporting himself from crushing Eren while the other is wrapped around his head from hitting the ground. 

If Eren forgot about their situation, he would’ve tilted his head further into Reiner’s arm from a sense of familiarity and comfort that something deep in his core desperately aches for. 

Reiner tiredly sighs, “If you could be just a little more careful-“

Reorienting himself back to reality, Eren glowers. ”And if you don’t get off of me-“

With a brief glance away to look for his crutches, the crate that also fell alongside them catches his attention. Its lid was jostled open from the fall, revealing its contents. He recognizes some of the items there and then some – a loaf of bread, a water canister, several sliced sticks of cheese, several canned fish, some crackers, and even a small jar of what looks to be jam…

“…Weren’t you dropping off supplies?”

Reiner stares down at Eren, hesitating with the way he takes a deep breath before his eyes drift away to focus on another spot on the floor. 

“I am… For you.” 

A crate of supplies, typically foodstuffs and treats they always brought along during their heats or ruts. Just anything they could get their hands on as cadets, whether it was the ration crackers the cafeteria could spare or things they knew the other liked that they had saved up to buy in the markets. Reiner was the one who started it, saying it was just what any other alpha would do, both of them knowing damn well how that’s certainly not the case. But Eren had shrugged and did it for him too. 

But seeing that now is like a punch to the gut. Like the wind left his lungs. Like more salt in the wound. 

Eren scoffs once in disbelief. Twice in trying to breathe. Shakes his head at the man above him and shoves himself up onto an elbow and almost bumping their foreheads together with how forcibly he pushes himself up to glare directly at him.

Eren hisses, “I’m not your damn responsibility!” 

Reiner looks down again in anger. “ This isn’t about responsibility!” 

“Then what is it? What was any of this ?!” Eren plants a hand against Reiner’s warm, broad chest in an effort to move the man away, but his fingers curl inwards instead, balling his hand into a shaking fist.

“What am I to you?!” 

Suddenly, Reiner swiftly moves his arm out from  under Eren’s head which causes the back of his skull to collide against the ground, making him wince and groan at the impact. The fist Eren had against his chest gets snatched by the wrist and pinned next to his head, knocking his back fully flat against the ground. Next thing he knows, Reiner’s on all fours above him, his arms caging his head and a knee shoved between his legs to stare intently down at Eren below. 

Eren barely flinches. He’s seen worse from Reiner and his heat is making him wired, focused on every movement from the blonde yet unsurprised at the man’s burst of anger. What completely takes him by surprise is Reiner’s- no… Something much darker growls and freezes Eren in place.

Under the dim lighting of the hallway and now fully above him, Reiner’s face is in shadow as a predatory glint reflects off his pale irises. Finally, Eren notices the scent that was very much not there on their way here. It was familiar, something he hasn’t smelled in a long time, but something his instincts just knows. 

Oh. 

Usually subtle pine and leather notes with a hint of smoke somehow deepens, becoming smokier with its leather notes becoming more pronounced. The man’s woodsy and amber scent intensifies so that it becomes all that Eren breathes, muddying his thoughts and giving Reiner his undivided attention. Eren shifts just slightly and the front of his hips graze against Reiner’s thigh – an intoxicating mix that makes slick pool between his legs, a soft moan escapes his lips, and Reiner’s pupils dilate. 

“ Oh… ”

The start of Reiner’s rut. 

Eren swallows and croaks, “Y- you-” 

Like a wire that’s been cut, Reiner snaps out of his trance with a gasp. He rips himself off of Eren like he had burned him and nearly crashes himself against the nearby wall. The alpha steadies himself as he pants wide eyed and shaken. 

“That… That can’t be,” Reiner stammers, looking to and from Eren in shock and confusion creasing his brow. He stares down at his hand, lost and bewildered as if he also didn’t know what was happening to himself.

Before Eren could even say anything, much less prop himself up onto his elbows, Reiner utters a weak apology without meeting Eren’s eye and excuses himself. His long and heavy strides take him down the stairs loudly and out the building like a bat out of hell, leaving Eren on the ground staring dazed at the spot Reiner was just at.

What the fuck was that?

The omega in him growls in frustration at the alpha running away from him. It nearly commands Eren to chase him down, but the more lucid aspect of his mind reminds him of the uncomfortable dampness between his legs. Eren barely collects himself together to focus on getting up off the floor and dragging himself and the crate of supplies back to his apartment. Once he’s settled in his nest, he reasons with himself despite his heat fully setting in. 

It’s for the best that they don’t share their heat and rut together again. Yes, that’s what matters. Not only was it a terrible idea to run out and chase down Marley’s vice war chief in broad daylight, but Eren has to draw the line somewhere, shouldn’t he? This should be as far as he goes between him and Reiner. He’s already agreed to not kill him, let him live free, and allow him to be a part of their son’s life at least.

Sharing their heat and rut together again would be crossing a line that Eren doesn’t want to know the outcome to, even if he can vividly imagine what it’d be like for Reiner to be above him again. That wasn’t hard at all after how he had caged him against the ground out in the hallway. So what if he uses that moment as a reference as he strips himself down to just Reiner’s coat brushing against sensitive and heated skin. It wouldn’t hurt to lie down with his back flat against his sheets and one of his arms lifted up while his head tilts to the side to inhale as much as he can of the alpha’s residual scent from his coat.

And if Eren makes a mess of Reiner’s coat and his bed sheets while his ex-lover’s name spills from his lips as he comes, that’s between him and the walls of his room.

The week passes and Eren consumes the entire crate of supplies in between the exhaustive and aroused states his heat leaves him in. He ignores the hollow feeling in his chest on the last day when he’s finishing the last bit of the bread and cheese, trying to forget about the presence that used to be by his side to share the week and food with. 

After a full and thorough cleaning day on top of a decent night’s worth of rest, he’s retrieving a clingy Carlan from the Grices. 

“Look look, Carlan! Your dad is here!” the Grice’s matriarch excitedly announces with a graceful sway of the toddler on her hip towards Eren when she returns his child to him. 

“Dada!” Carlan shouts and immediately reaches for Eren the moment he spots him.

“Hey kiddo,” Eren softly greets and meets tiny grabby hands that cling onto him eagerly. “Thank you again Mrs. Fawn.”

Falco has her eyes and Colt has his father’s. But both sons’ dedication for their remaining family and loved ones can be seen in Fawn and Lionel Grice without the additional years of strife they had to endure from the treason her brother-in-law committed from colluding with Grisha. Fawn confided in him once. Of how her grief caused her to struggle in conceiving her first child for almost over a decade due to the state’s merciless sentencing and the social prejudices from it. 

A lighter sentence that required all of her children to serve in the military and attempt the warrior’s program or risk the rest of their combined families being sent to Paradis.

He has a vague recollection of her husband’s brother from Grisha’s memories, but regardless of who he was and why he became a Restorationist, the rest of the family were good people. Life has a very poor sense of humor with how their family is still in league with the Jaegers whether it was Colt’s apprenticeship with Zeke, or the rest of their family helping Eren. It’s a shame they’re at the mercy of a Jaeger’s deception once more.

When he asked how she did it? How she recovered, Fawn said she never did. But she did get two sons she’s proud of raising and discovered how to be selfish in her own ways through taking back the little joys in life.

“It was no problem, really.” The woman smiles, crinkling the lines around her eyes. She helps him situate Carlan into his usual seat in the sling around Eren’s chest. ”He was such a joy to look after this week, and settling into the season’s clothes just fine! He was so well behaved even with Colt and Falco – honestly, my sons could learn a thing or two from him!”

Once he has his son settled in his sling, his tiny hands immediately grab fistfulls of Eren’s coat and pouts against his shoulder, showing his displeasure from having parted from his dad too suddenly and too long for his liking.

“Although,” she continues with a knowing smile, “he definitely missed his dad, dearly.” 

Carlan seems to tighten his hands even further and Eren hums and brings a hand up to hug his son close against him, “I know, kiddo. You must’ve been so startled. I’m sorry it was so sudden. Trust me, I didn’t like it either.” 

His son makes an unhappy trill in agreement. 

“Mrs. Grice said that you were on your best behavior,” Eren tries to coax his son out from hiding against his shoulder, “Is that right?”

Carlan slowly pulls away to think for a moment before nodding surely and proudly as a toddler could be. He looks up excitedly at Eren to speak, “Yes.”

“See, you’re fine,” Eren chuckles. “Thank you for being good while I was away,” Eren reassures with a smile and a kiss to the crown of his head now that his son feels more relaxed and less distressed in his arms. “Now, what say we get you a snack? Maybe get us both some treats and something as a thanks to the Grices for taking care of you on such short notice?”

“Oh, hush.” Fawn immediately swats a hand in Eren’s direction. “No need. You can save that for the holidays coming up!”

They were about a month out from the biggest holiday of the year. One filled with such bright colors, lights, and festivities, it left Eren awestruck with how the citizens of Liberio could even get a hold of such items despite Marley’s restrictions. According to Fawn, apparently, it was much more ‘muted’ last year due to the war. In Eren’s opinion, Liberio’s ‘muted’ was what Paradis could celebrate going all out on a good year. With the end of the war this year, Eren could practically feel the amplified excitement a month out with how many shop owners and locals were already getting a head start on celebration organization and goods. 

“Speaking of, if you’re heading to the markets, would you mind if I accompanied you? I’m meeting an acquaintance for preparations!,” the shorter, willowy woman asks to which Eren cordially welcomes. 

They amicably talk about their holiday plans on their walk when really it’s just Eren listening to Fawn list her ideas for celebrations and Carlan getting asked various things he doesn’t understand, but curiously reacts to whenever Fawn directs a topic towards them. Last year, Eren didn’t bother attending the small gathering that Fawn had extended her invitation to, believing that no one should ever feel alone during the festive season. His guilt wouldn’t allow it. This year would be no different as he hears her debate on what kind of decorations she could throw together for the party she’s attending this year and what type of knitted gifts she’d have enough materials to make. 

She and his mother would’ve gotten along well, Eren thinks. But then again, Fawn and Carla were simply those types of people. The ones who had a sixth sense of compassion for others that Eren would never understand. Something almost primordial that made them intrinsic to the community. The kind that leaves the sharpest of absences when they are gone. 

They part ways for their respective task lists once they arrive at the markets.

It’s almost midday with how the streets are becoming more and more crowded. Eren sighs tiredly, remembering the last time he was here at this time. And this time, he didn’t have Reiner to help him with the groceries. Still, It’s not like he doesn’t have spare change from all the weeks Reiner has been paying for him.

He barely gets through two stalls when he gets jostled by someone in passing.

“I’m sorr- Oh!” Porco looks at him surprisingly before giving him a look that consists of a smirk and an arched brow. “Well, if it isn’t Reiner’s colleague. ”

Eren narrows his eye at the emphasis on ‘colleague.’ 

“And hey kid,” The ginger blonde spares a kinder expression to Carlan in brief acknowledgement. He quickly looks up back at Eren with that smug expression. As if the man knows something of Eren that he doesn’t which makes Eren’s hackles rise. 

Alright. Two can play at this game.

“Ah… Colt’s friend .”

That wipes the smug expression off Porco’s face. 

“Yeah. That’s me.” Porco retorts defensively.

“So, if I’m right, what’s with the tone?” 

“What’s with yours?” 

“You started it.” 

“Technically, Reiner started it.”

“He what?,” startling Eren and pointing a sharper gaze towards Porco.

“Don’t look at me, that’s what he said,” Porco tosses his chin to his side and shoves his hands into his pockets. Eren’s attention gets directed straight to the man in question. 

Reiner stands several meters away with Pieck at his side in front of a grain stall, pouring over the different sacks of different colored particles and conversing with its merchant. They seem to be running errands together with how they all had a bag for their goods at their side while Pieck commands a small, worn notepad in her hands. The petite woman turns as if she’s about to call Porco over when her eyes widen in delight and her mouth parts in a gasp at noticing Eren. 

She beams, gives him a brief wave, and quickly turns back to the stall owner in a flurry of precise and cordial movements to finalize their transaction quicker. Reiner, who remained heedless of his friend’s reactions, gets grabbed by the arm once they’ve taken care of business to be literally dragged over to Porco and Eren by a woman near half his size which would’ve been a little amusing if carting people around wasn’t what she’s known for. 

The blonde’s gaze drifts from confusion to surprise to hesitant the moment they notice Eren.

“Hello Kruger! Fine day for running some chores, isn’t it?” Pieck’s eyes sparkle at seeing Carlan, but only gives him a warm smile before regarding Eren once more. “How are you? Are you both well?,” she asks forwardly in her somehow energetic yet sleepy voice. 

Eren clears his throat and looks away, “As well as I could be.” 

“That’s good! So as long as nothing is worse, right?” Pieck agrees. 

Well, something else will cause everything to be certainly worse at some point in the future, but that’s not today or this year even.

Pieck eyes Porco for a short moment, something quick enough that Eren brushes aside as Porco drawls, “There’s a special deal going on at the next stall we’re heading to.” 

“Perfect!” the petite beta excitably exclaims. 

Unbelievably, Pieck somehow finds a way to convince Eren to come along with them, at least to this one stall. Even Reiner tried to dissuade her after clearly seeing Eren’s first awkward attempts at disengaging. But for some reason, Pieck was insistent, Porco stood to the side giving Reiner a side-eye, and Eren didn’t want to seem suspicious as he technically had no reason to say no. Plus, she swears that the stall’s free but limited treat samples were worth it.

She’s right. Both he and Carlan sample a small cube of cake – a taste tester. It reminds him of the one Reiner had baked in the past. 

“Could use a bit of honey,” both he and Reiner say at the same time.

“Really? Figured a coffee lover like you would enjoy it with some espresso,” Porco hums curiously towards Reiner.

Reiner and Eren were so busy looking at each astoundingly that Eren mostly misses a glint flashing through Pieck’s grey eyes.

“Both would be good!” the woman quickly agrees as if to settle the matter. 

After Pieck and Porco consume themselves in their next shopping agenda and meander towards an adjacent stand, they leave Eren and Reiner to lag several steps behind. The blonde takes the moment to tiredly sigh to Eren, “I’m so sorry about them. They’re not usually… Like this?” He lowers his voice to keep their conversation between the two of them. “Well, Pieck has always been friendly, but not this… Pushy, I guess. I swear, it’s the season getting to them.” 

Eren shrugs. It was stressful being so cautious and fearing for his cover considering Pieck is one of the smartest amongst the warriors. There was no way she didn't use her friendliness to her advantage if there was a need. Even if she did her best to help him relax by focusing on the season at hand and everything but soldier work when she was walking with Eren. Eren can only hope she was genuinely interested in his company as Kruger and not whatever his paranoia was making him second guess.

“So as long as it’s just the seasons, it’s fine.” 

They hover silently as they peruse over the current location just so they have something to do as Pieck and Porco distantly talk about something concerning colored candles. Their silence stretches only a few minutes, but it was enough to where Carlan starts playing with the end of his hair strands out of boredom. After a deep sigh, Eren softly starts while inspecting an item he didn’t care to catch the name of.

“Thanks… For the supplies.”

“It was no problem.” Reiner responds. After a moment, he tentatively asks, “Did you like them?” 

“I did… They were good.” 

“Good,” Reiner says and hides a sigh of relief. Eren quickly glances an eye over at the man to see him looking at the ground while a hand rubs the back of his neck. “Um, did you have any more groceries you need to get?”

“A few…” He turns over the nameless feelings in chest for a beat before he shifts his weight on his crutches and angles himself to face Reiner to suggest, “Would you like to accompany me?”

Reiner looks at Eren with a halted breath. After he remembers how to breathe, he softly huffs and murmurs, “You just like that I’m paying.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Eren crookedly grins. 

Reiner finally smiles, the tenderness of it almost brightens the dark circles underneath his eyes.

It was no apology. Not that Eren thought there was anything to apologize for since he fully believes they had both spoken their minds earlier. At least, Eren had nothing to take back even if there are still more questions than answers. He can’t speak for Reiner. But he can continue this routine they’ve rebuilt together. Continue this truce that has them hovering in each other’s company again. Continue making his heart beat like a traitor.

Reiner calls out to Pieck and Porco, informing them of their new route across the markets together. Pieck more than happily accommodates and speaks on Porco’s behalf as the other alpha grumbles disagreeably, but makes no move to pull himself away from Pieck holding onto his arm.

If their brief amends didn’t fully clear the tension between them from the week, the familiarity of going through the market together takes care of most of the rest. Carlan helps in the way he reaches for things whether it was the stall items they contemplated over or the comfort he’s found from Reiner’s presence. Reiner even steps close enough to pat his son on the head that causes the small child to contently trill before giggling and pulling Reiner’s hand into a small game tug of war. Eren lightly chuckles when Reiner obviously lets his child win. 

They’re at one of the last few stalls when Reiner holds up a produce curiously, inspecting its freshness, bruises, and all its subtle scratches simply born from nature and transportation. 

“Have you tried this eggplant? These are pretty good in stews,” he says.

“That’s not an eggplant,” Eren says with conviction. He’s seen the purple ones Mikasa’s family grew in their garden whenever he visited them with his dad during the summers. What Reiner holds is a cross between a tomato and a pumpkin.

“It’s literally labeled here as ‘Marleyan eggplant’.”

“Well, it’s most certainly not any eggplants I know of.” 

Reiner arches a sharp brow. “You know of your kind, but not ours after this long?” 

The brunet scoffs, “I’ve been here long enough. I know yours.”

“So, you’re well acquainted with the taste then?”

Eren parts his lips to respond before he catches himself and pauses. Wait… Did he just?...

He fixes a slowly squinting stare at Reiner, waits, and watches the blonde’s schooled features like a hawk. Because this is Reiner he’s watching. 

Who just flattened his lips to hide the twitch of his lips. 

Yeah- that fucker is holding back either a grin or a laugh and Eren knows it. 

Eren sucks in a breath to tamp down either a reluctant grin or a punch because, of course, the little shit can still make a dick innuendo after all this time. Goddess, the dirtier side of his humor is still terrible after all this time. Hopefully it was just bad because their son is literally right there and they’re in public. But still, Eren shoves the man by his shoulder while Pieck pretends she heard nothing and Porco is groaning in mortification.

“ By the star …” Porco sounds so disappointed, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose 

Pieck giggles, revealing that she hears all, “Star’s tips, indeed.” 

Porco makes a more pained noise of disappointment. 

“We’ll take several,” Eren quickly and exasperatedly completes their transaction to move on from the stall and its vendor who was eyeing them all tiredly, clearly from years of experience dealing with embarrassing customers and eggplant handlers alike. 

On their way, Porco grabs a fist full of Reiner’s jacket to yank the man away. “Excuse me, I just remembered something I needed to talk to Reiner about. Warrior things.” 

“No work talk on break!” Pieck reminds.

“ Non-work warrior things!” He impatiently barks back at Pieck as he continues dragging a reluctant Reiner.

Stupefied, Eren and Carlan watch the shorter alpha tug the blonde across the little market street to have their conversation at one of the stalls lining the other side. It wasn’t Eren’s business, but now he’s left alone with Pieck and all of their interactions today have been nothing but suspicious. 

“Don’t worry, Porco will bring Reiner right back!” Pieck reassures, which was anything but reassuring. “I’m sorry about Reiner. I promise our vice chief is a lot more professional than this!”

Eren blinks. 

“Uh- that’s fine?” the brunet settles for. He awkwardly stares at her and instead of standing around and gaping like a fish, he begins to slowly crutch forward to nowhere in particular just to do something. He moves at such a slow and aimless pace that Pieck easily catches up to him, sticking close enough to his side that he can catch her sweet, smoky scent. Eren replies after racking his brain long enough, “Isn’t that how Reiner usually is?” 

She tilts her head. She doesn’t answer him, but asks, “That didn’t bother you?”

Glancing over, it’s almost comical how easily Eren spots him amongst the crowd, as if his red armband wasn’t a giant sign. No, it was always that broad frame of his and soft, wheat colored hair. Porco has almost devolved into speaking with his hands as he’s gesturing rather animatedly to an oddly calm Reiner. Eren turns back towards Pieck and barely catches Porco seizing a bundle of carrots to swat at Reiner with its leafy prongs before he’s getting yelled at by the stall owner, causing Reiner to swoop in to save Porco and placate the vendor. 

“Why would it bother me?”

“He is the vice chief,” Pieck softly starts, her earlier enthusiasm mellowing into something more contemplative. Something more honest as she matches Eren’s place on his good side, stepping one foot in front of the other almost whimsically and swaying the ends of her plum colored, long skirt.

“Many know him as this perfectly etched hero that the papers love to print for the public,” she recounts, looking out into the crowd, “Then there’s the armored shield that the higher brass has molded him to be so they could wield fearlessly to get a job done no matter the cost. Alongside that, he’s a dedicated son and cousin and a good friend that I’m thankful I got to train and work beside, even if our work made us spend more time as soldiers than friends…” 

She gently guides them to stop at a random stand, a small little woodwork table filled with trinkets or dishware that sees few visitors. Its vendor whittles away at a wood piece in hand with an understanding glance that he both has an eye on his wares and he’ll attend to them if called. 

Pieck’s voice remains airy and low when she picks up a flat, intricately carved ornament that resembles a star with a small ribbon loop tied to one end. She turns it on its flat side to marvel at the shapes and see-through spaces along its surface. “And finally, there’s the man who returned from a mission several years ago, a changed man from what I remembered him by, with health conditions that eludes both our doctors and our healing abilities.” 

She continues spilling facts about her friend as if she was listing a shop’s catalogue and not something deeply profound about an important, shared acquaintance that has Eren transfixed. “I’ve known him since we were kids and after all this time… I’ve never seen the man who walked beside you today. Who’s been subtly, but surely appearing ever since the war ended and we were introduced to you.” 

“Your point being?” 

“My point being,” she begins while turning to Carlan to dangle the ornament in one of her hands safely within his reach to let it dynamically spin on its axis, inviting his son to play, “…Is that it’s been a very curious coincidence that Reiner just so happens to not have had a rut in two years, but finally has one now. Long after all the check-ups, medicine, and people our doctors provided for him.”

Eren's head spins like the ornament in her hand. That’s impossible. Heats and ruts were a part of life, and there are very few cases where it just doesn’t happen, usually because of another sickness. Does Reiner have something much more serious that he’s hiding that could be causing this? It sounds dangerous given how long it’s been and how not even their doctors could find a solution. Thinking back, Reiner’s shocked and almost scared expression from when his rut started now makes more sense. 

To think he had to fight two more years of war on top all the posturing in Marley despite this…

But why is Pieck telling him this? When he asks, she leaves her fond expression with Carlan poking at the ornament in every which way he can as a more severe demeanor meets Eren.

“In my line of work, I don’t like coincidences, Kruger. But depending on circumstances and outcomes, I can make a very rare exception… I hope this can be one of them,” Pieck expresses almost wistfully. 

Eren stares, feigning confusion, at not only the cheerful and whimsical woman that first greeted them, but the warrior and weapon that has every right to stand where she is, fit with the sharp shine of pride and tenure in deep grey eyes who holds her thirteen years like how she holds herself. A woman who dearly hopes and cherishes the life she holds. And a woman who wouldn’t hesitate to point a gun between his eyes. 

“There you two are, sorry about that!” Porco's voice announces from behind them and Pieck gently pulls the ornament away from Carlan and returns it back to its initial place. 

Turning around, her earlier delight comes back and takes its place amongst her features once more before confusion overtakes her, “Welcome ba- carrots? But, we don’t need carrots.” 

“We do now,” Porco states with no other explanation for the  bundle of lightly bruised carrots sticking out from his grocery bag. “Where to next?” 

They head towards their last vendor while they have their respective conversations. Pieck and Porco friendly bicker over what they should do with their unexpectedly acquired carrots while Eren fails to get Reiner to reveal whatever it was he and Porco were discussing. The blonde reassures that it wasn’t anything related to Eren specifically. All he is going to say is that Porco disagreed with his humor and Eren couldn’t help but softly snort. Reiner’s humor can certainly be an acquired taste. 

Eren lies to Reiner when he asks about him and Pieck. They just made small talk, he tells him. He needs more time to think about all she said and whether he needs to tell Reiner or report to Zeke. 

When they arrive at their final stop, the batch of fresh bread is what they smell first long before reaching the stand.

“Hello dears! You’ve all arrived just in time!” The plump, jovial woman owning the stall loudly and familiarly beams at their arrival while in mid arrangement of fresh bread. She turns to her assistant, someone she occasionally hired to apprentice or help. Sometimes Eren vaguely recognizes a returning face. This time he knows the girl is new. “These are all friends! Could you get started on packing the regular assortment for them?” 

Her assistant kindly gets started. Her red hair, more orange than Floch’s, matches her flurry of movements as she reflects the endless well of good-natured energy of her boss. 

Pieck is quick to converse with them, launching themselves into a very well practiced social dance of ‘oh, no, you don’t have to’ and ‘oh, but I insist.’ One by one, the warriors are roped into a comment or two whether it was about the weather or the upcoming holidays. There’s a motherly closeness and care between them that wasn’t unlike Jean’s mother whenever she visited them. Someone who established themselves as a second mother should anyone need an ear or some motherly words of advice. 

Pieck engages in another roundabout etiquette of insisting that they pay the full price despite it falling on purposefully deaf ears when the assistant finally hands Eren his bag. Reiner instinctively steps in close to help Eren balance his crutches and support Carlan.

“Could you-?” Eren doesn’t even have to finish his sentence when Reiner seems to know exactly what he needs him to do. While Eren tears off a piece of warm, sweet bread to give to Carlan as a small snack, he hands Reiner the rest of the bag to safely fold and slip into his grocery pack. Eren mumbles a quick thanks as Carlan happily chews on a snack that should hold him over until lunch.

The assistant tilts her head at the display and affectionately compliments, “Your child is adorable, sirs! I can see where he gets his features from!”

“Oh,” Reiner looks between her and his son, briefly, a moment of awe flashes in his expression. Just as quickly as it appeared, he replaces it with a concerned expression and holds up a hand toward the redhead in a halting gesture. “Oh, no. We…”

“We’re not…” Eren stumbles at the same time, glancing back and forth between himself, his child, Reiner, and the red headed assistant. 

His insides jump in two contradicting directions that he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s near gleeful at the acknowledgement of them as a family. Instantly following, his heart sinks at how that's not something either of can possibly be.

The jovial lady gasps and firmly pats her assistant on the shoulder before immediately informing her in a scandalized whisper that they all can hear, “Careful deary! That’s the Vice Chief! He’s dedicated his life to representing us by serving Marley! No sparking unnecessary rumors, now!” 

“I hope there isn’t. The warriors don’t deserve any of that, least of all my son.” A voice says from behind them.

It takes Eren a moment to fully register the new voice. It’s older and feminine with the barest sharpness to its tone. Something akin to a stern reprimand no doubt veiling a subtle threat at the poorly assumed words. It’s Reiner’s expression that makes what Eren heard fully click in his head. The subtle look of terror that looks at Eren in unease. It was several steps removed from the look of horror seared into his brain of Reiner’s shattering circumstance on Wall Sina, but it was still horror, nonetheless.

The redhead assistant looks at both Eren and Reiner and whoever was over Eren’s shoulders, and shakily offers quick and sincere apologies. She goes so far as to bow her head in shame to hide the reddening cheeks that just about matched her hair from how embarrassed she is. 

The baker waves her hand at the air in front of her, trying to physically clear up the tension and mistake. “That’s quite enough, now! Pardon the poor girl, Karina. She’s new!”  

Reiner turns and Eren follows suit to see a middle aged woman with stern lines etched deep across her face that speak of years of grief and discontent. But lines that are paired with the same pallor and hazel eyes as the man standing beside him. The same eyes as his own son that slowly turns up and around in confusion and stops chewing on his snack in sensing both of his parents’ shifts in nature. 

“Mother,” Reiner tersely starts, smoothly recomposing himself to stand straighter and steps in front of Eren, almost as if to shield him and their son from her judgemental gaze, ”Please. It was just a misunderstanding.” 

Karina Braun couldn’t have been more alike yet different than her son. She’s a short woman, barely several inches taller than Pieck, clad in a heavy jacket and head scarf that blocks the wind from seemingly sweeping her away compared to the mountain that was her son. She shouldn’t cut such an intimidating figure standing there in silence, but isn’t that the same severity her warrior of a son also radiates when needed? The heaviness in the air persists until she sighs, her shoulders subtly slumping from weariness, softening the strict demeanor from her first arrival.

“Please be more mindful of what you say. You’ll never know who might be listening.”

After a sigh of relief and another round of apologies, both Pieck and Porco extend greetings, unfazed from the whole demonstration that just happened. As if this was just another thunderstorm they waited patiently to blow over before emerging from their shelters as usual. 

“I didn’t know you were shopping today…” Reiner starts once his mother turns towards him and cranes her neck up to regard him.

“I was meeting Fawn for our upcoming festivities,” she explains. “But more importantly…” She attempts to step around Reiner, who shifts just the slightest in reflection to continue separating Eren from his mother just a little longer although futilely. “I’m sorry you both got caught in the misunderstanding,” she expresses in sympathy to both Eren and his son – her grandson? 

Paths, have mercy.

Karina squints her Eren speculatively and asks, “Say, aren’t you Fawn’s acquaintance – the one she’s been helping?”

The Paths, Ymir, and his own insufferable future self are merciless.

Eren gives her just the slightest nod, only for her to delight herself in making the connection. She’s onto another connection when she looks between Reiner and Eren. “Do you two know each other?” 

“We’re…” Reiner trails off, eyeing Eren.

Eren finishes his statement, reinforcing what’s been said so far, apparently, “We’re colleagues .”

“Yeah, colleagues,” he nods before clearing his throat, “We met during the start of the war.” 

Karina gives him a once over at Reiner’s statement and says in gratitude, “I see… Thank you for your service, dear. It’s truly a blessing to have you return and to have such a beautiful child.” 

Eren instinctively holds onto his child closer to him when Karine continues and chides her son.

“You never told me about a colleague aside from the warriors.”

“I only recently met him again. I didn’t think I'd find him again…” 

Karina converses with her son, the warriors, and the baker, catching up briefly on everyone’s plans for the season. She doesn’t stay long after she picks up a loaf of bread herself and excuses herself, “Now, I enjoyed our chat, but I should let you all get back to your day."

Departing, she waves to Eren, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, deary.” 

Eren waves back because he absolutely cannot say the same.

On his walk home after parting ways with Porco and Pieck, Reiner walks by his side. Their groceries sway from their respective arms as the midday sun does wonders for the increasingly colder weather though the winds still bite at their cheeks.

“So that’s your mom,” Eren brings up like he’s ripping off a band aid.

“Yeah… She can be… She’s a bit…” Reiner mulls over his words and goes with a simpler phrase out of exhaustion, “She cares.” 

Eren hums. He isn’t convinced given Reiner’s less than warm reception of her at the markets, but he doesn’t press further. 

“I remember you mentioning her a few times.” 

The blonde beside him nods. “Her brother’s family and I are all she has. So she is grateful that I returned, truly…” 

The implication that Karina also went through a similar circumstance as he did at having to raise a child by themselves isn’t lost on him. In that sense, he can almost feel sorry for the woman. But there’s just something in today's interactions that sits uncomfortably in Eren’s chest. She wasn’t like Fawn who treasured the present as much as a future she may never see. There was a past that isn’t far from view from either Reiner or his mother that neither wants to look up and see. 

Reiner makes a small noise of surprise at realizing Eren had let him walk him all the way back to his apartment building. Eren just shrugs. “You already know, you might as well walk me back if you have so much time in the world.” 

“I still think it’s absurd that they put you on the second floor,” he grumbles as he helps figure out how to get Eren, his son, and their groceries up the stairs without accidentally hurting or making a fool of themselves. 

When Reiner asked how Eren usually handled the stairs, Eren refused to say. Because he ultimately made himself a fool every time, and for the sake of his dignity, Eren will keep that method to himself and Carlan.

They figure something out after Reiner decides he can easily make two trips, one for their grocery, and the second for Carlan and one of Eren’s crutches and Eren uses the other to leverage himself up while his free hand holds onto the railing. At the second floor landing, Eren stands there exhausted, the day barely halfway over as he’s breathless. He must still be recovering from his heat. 

Reiner continues holding Carlan, turning towards him with a tender expression as he patiently waits for Eren to catch his breath. The sight eases him down to his bones. How nice it’d be for Reiner to have been there when Eren felt exhaustion down to his soul and he had someone familiar, someone he could trust, to be there. The Grice’s were wonderful, but it just wasn’t the same compared to his pack members and family.

Wordlessly, Eren picks up his bag and digs for his keys. He crutches over to his door and unlocks it with a loud click that should’ve surely caught the alpha’s attention if his movements weren’t enough. The brunet steadies himself against the frame and turns to Reiner who is giving him his undivided attention, breaths slowed as he eyes the suggestion.

That Eren trusts him enough to show him and invite him into his nest.

That there are conversations severe enough that they can discuss them no where else but here.

“Want to come in?”

Reiner blinks. Nervous but hopeful.

“If you’ll have me.”

Eren opens the door and crosses the threshold, leaving it open for the man. 

Reiner follows with their son in his arms and shuts the door behind them.