[Predictably, Eren's mood has been pretty damn sour since the announcement came through. Bad enough that Armin had been laid up unconscious in the medtent for months. Now he and Connie are gone, out of reach, like Isabel and the Commander. Sent away months ago, with no word since. (And Annie—)
It's been some time. He's long since exhausted the initial flare of useless anger, denial, frustration. Worked himself down to simmering and seething and staggered.
He very nearly ignores the message that pings in. The hovering sprectre of more bad news is enough to drive him into checking it. He and November aren't particularly close, beyond their arrangment as rovermates. So it's something of a surprise to see the name pop up.
A good five minutes or so after he does—]
where
[Armin is gone. Mikasa is here. (And that's important.)]
[ There's a sort of tension involved in this little dance. At this point, he's certain Eren has probably seen the announcement. Which is bound to put him in one of several moods. November doesn't know him well enough to figure out which of those he'd give into first, but he has a rough idea.
If it were anything like how he himself had reacted to April nearly dying. Well. He wants to head that off before it goes off the deep end. ]
Near the VR rooms. I believe Mikasa's up soon, since they're going alphabetically. I'm certain she'll put on a good show.
[ She's here and he wants to catch her as soon as he can. It's early enough before the assessments that she probably hasn't checked the network yet. ]
[No point in waiting here for her here, then. In the emotional shellshock that had come with the announcement, he'd forgotten all about Mikasa's evaluation. It explains why she isn't around, why she hasn't come through the door before he even thought to expect her, materialized at his side before he even knew he (needed her) was looking for her.
Sitting on his hands is the last thing he wants to do right now. The hell of it is, the people responsible for all this are so far out of his reach, he may as well be powerless. And he hates it so much, he's sick with it. The iron taste of it rises at the back of his throat, pools in the bottom of his chest.
At some length:]
okay.
[And that's...it. But anyone seeking out the viewing area near the VR rooms, will find Eren folded into a tense ball on one of the spectator benches. Elbows resting against his bent knees, shoulders stiff and jaw squared. Still holding the blackglass white-knuckled in one hand, while the other is fisted frustrated in his hair. There are surely other spectators around waiting for the show to start, but either they're not the friendly sorts or Eren is just giving off enough warning signs to keep them from approaching.
It's probably the latter.
He's not paying anyone around him much mind, though. Attention fixed on the monitors, as if waiting for Mikasa to make her appearance. Nothing, yet.]
Mostly in the fact that Eren would need the time it took to get from the room to the training areas to cool off. Or at least settle into some strange form of tense sullenness. So, he takes his time walking from the mess hall to the VR rooms, pace deliberate. He's got his hands tucked in his pockets, hiding the fact that underneath his relaxed posture, he feels a bit mixed up. A Contractor shouldn't even have these things to deal with, shouldn't be getting involved in emotional entanglements.
In all honesty, he shouldn't even care. Except some small, less numb part of him does. Eren and Mikasa are young, so young. They don't deserve the kind of life they've been handed. He doesn't know their background well enough, but even he can tell it's not pleasant. There's a certain look in a person's eye that will say everything– these two carry a weight on their shoulders that's unmistakable.
Frowning a bit, he ends up in VR area, easily spotting the hunched over teenager. Eren's posture reads go away, but he's going to gently ignore it in favor of stepping closer. Pausing at the end of the bench, he tilts his head down, glancing at the younger man. ]
[Venting his aggravation by pacing the halls does not do much to ease it. But diverting his focus even a little from the message and the source (Mikasa, has she even seen it?) is probably for the best. His composure is brittle. Hard but fragile, ready to snap and shatter. Armin's absence in his life has been a loud one, the last few months. With Armin laid up in a coma in the med tent, it's the longest he's gone without his best friend to lean on since the fall of Shiganshina. Longer. Now, he can't even know for sure if he's alive or dead, he can't protect him from the things the CDC will throw at him. (The recent Blue team mission comes to mind.) Armin's smart, and Eren trusts him. But he's played guard-dog for years, taken comfort and guidance from his presence all his life. Even when they were at odds over the shifters, the secrets Armin had been keeping, he was still there.
(And if Armin's still laid up then Connie's all on his own. And he'll never know why Annie did the things she did. What she was really fighting for.)
He drops his hand down and away from where it was buried in his hair. Looks sharply up at November when he speaks. Even before the question or the owner of the voice really register in his hindbrain, his shoulders square. A tense and combative cornered-animal thing, as if anticipating a fight. Or looking for one. But they stop and sink by small degrees soon after.
[ Eren's side step is what he takes as assent. So, he takes a seat at the end of the bench, appearing relaxed as he crosses one leg over the other. The younger man has since calmed from his abrupt presence, but there's tension lines all along his spine. ]
She may be in a practice round. Or already starting the assessment.
[ It's not positive news, but it's not negative either. Just potential facts laid out with little emotion. ]
[It's as good a thing as any to work as a distraction. It succeeds in small ways. His throat works, but his jaw unlocks. His answer is terse, but honest. Firm.]
She won't.
[Because for all he bucks against Mikasa's concern, her shadowing his footsteps, he is under no illusions about her skill. She's good at what she does. He counts on it.
And with a little more momentum (a little more venom on the edges—)]
Nothing the CDC is gonna throw at us is gonna take us down.
[Mikasa. Jean and Levi and Hange. (Armin and Connie and Erwin and Isabel, wherever they ended up.)]
["Under your skin." What is that supposed to mean? It's hard for Eren not to take things personally in the first place. They've already begun to hit him where it hurts. He's seen Sasha die because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, heard too late that Jean had been forced to walk to his own death (that Mikasa had dealt it out) for no reason other than a display of power. (To see if he would.) He's had his best friend and his comrades taken away from him. Had humanity held against him as a failsafe. Seen a hundred recruits kidnapped and blackmailed into service, freedom stripped away because the only other choices available are no choices at all. He's seen a whole alien world after a lifetime of captivity and then helped reduce it to atoms.
It gets under his skin. Even if he's not entirely sure what November is asking him, he has an answer.]
I'll fight.
[In the end, it's all he can do.]
It's the only way anything is going to change.
[It's also a good way to get himself killed, here. If he isn't careful. (And believe it or not, he's working on that. Slowly.)]
And if it consumes you, will the fight still matter?
[ It's a pointed question, all sharp edges and sharper intent. He's driving at something here, because he's seen what people look like when they're filled with blind hatred. When they can only see revenge and nothing else. In some ways, they're worse off than Contractors because all they can think of and feel is how much it all pains them.
To focus on the vengeance with nothing more than a plan to fight is sure to get someone killed. Eren isn't completely stupid, but he hasn't learned that yet either. There's a big picture to be considered. ]
[He's well on his way to heading there. Whether it's the titans or the CDC, he has a hard time seeing past his vendettas. But he's not an entirely lost cause, not yet. Not least because of the people who keep him in check, grounded. His commanding officers. (Erwin, Hange, Levi. Even Warriorhead, in his own cryptic way.) His friends. (Mikasa. Armin. Even Jean.)
But he's fast edging back into active aggravation. The list of dead and gone recruits a reminder of how powerless they are on top of Ajna's destruction. Of how little they could do to change it. The whole of him wants to bare his teeth against it. So November's question is met with a narrow look, an answer that is sharp and kneejerk.]
[ His response almost edges on tired in contrast to Eren's aggravation, to his harsh words and body language. Eren has enough people to keep him grounded, he thinks. Mikasa, especially, is a cool headed balance to the young man's fighting spirit. She uses her head more than her heart (in many but not all instances, therein lies the difference between him and her). But he thinks of the worst case scenario. It's always better to be prepared for it and to have a contingency plan. Or plans. Or to have even considered the possibility of something.
In this case, it's what if Mikasa isn't there to dull Eren's sharper edges. What if she loses her rationale as well, as days and months pass? Ultimately, it may be that the both of them make it to their goal without giving up part of themselves. That's the good ending, in a way. November just wants to make sure they don't put themselves on the bad ending without realizing what they're doing. ]
[His momentum stutters a little on the sentiment. He gives November an odd look, like he's unsure what to make of that. His resolve is none the weaker for it.]
I won't.
[For all his anger can come close to consuming him at its worst, if he's got anything going for him, it's force of will. (But the small circle of his steady support is only getting smaller. It's a balancing act that could tip dramatically in any number of terrible ways. November isn't wrong to worry.)
It won't. They won't let it. There's a finality to his tone that's followed by a mutter running through the small crowd of spectators. The monitors have blinked to life, the assessments are starting. And Mikasa ought to be one of the first to finish.]
[ The assessment could've been worse, and honestly, Mikasa's rather surprised to see how... not horrific it had been. The task had motivated her, and her teammates rather well, and they'd been well equipped to tackle it. Even their injuries had been treated the moment evaluations had ended. Though she's not sure how she, or Zuko and Ichigo, ranked in Armada's opinion, but it's out of her hands now. She's quick to leave the two boys behind after receiving November's message, making her way out of the training room to spot the two.
They make a strange picture, sitting there sullenly, and she's not sure that she's even seen them spend extended periods of time together before.
But they're there, and she approaches them somewhat cautiously. ]
[ For a while after Eren's resolute proclamation, there's silence between them. It's neither good nor bad, just a neutral ground. The monitors blink on, the assessment starts, and bother of them are too focused on watching that they don't need to fill the space with words. When it all finishes, he finds he still can't relax, mind wired over the announcement and Mikasa's performance on the exam.
At least one of those things he can't do anything about, so he discards it. She'll get her assessment score whenever the instructors were ready. ]
Not terribly long. It seems like you did well.
[ Put the focus on the exam first, ease into other topics. Eren, don't mess this up. ]
[Sorry, did you say "don't mess this up?" He's on his feet near-immediately. Reaching for her sleeve, as if to demand her attention, or to tug her close, or to be sure she'll stay put. (There's no real reason for it, and it's not a premeditated thing. He just does it, as automatic as breathing.)]
Mikasa— [He nearly speaks over November. The edge on his tone is urgent. Sharp. This is important.] The transfers.
[ Transfers? He certainly gets her attention when he grabs her like that, though his words sound almost bizarre and nonsensical. She hadn't seen the announcement yet, not having wanted to keep November and Eren waiting, so it's not immediately obvious what Eren's talking about.
But it doesn't take too long to piece it together. They hear about these transfers with enough frequency that it's what her mind shifts to first, and as excitable as Eren may be, there's not too much that would get him all up in her space like this.
[ A small part of him is disappointed Eren had dropped the proverbial bomb. But, it's waved away– he can't blame the younger man at all. This was dealing with someone they were close to. It's only natural that he'd have a strong reaction and that he'd want to get Mikasa the knowledge as soon as possible. ]
Armin was reassigned. [ His tone's a little quieter, trying to soften the blow (is that even possible, here). ] I'm sorry, Mikasa.
[His fingers pull tight in her sleeve when she asks. November beats him to the punch, and his jaw pulls tighter. Chest constricting, blood up and already edging again toward angry, he unhinges it.]
Connie, too.
[November couldn't have known they were comrades. Mikasa would want to know he was gone. And—]
Annie's dead.
[And Mikasa won't return the sentiment, she was a titan and a traitor, but there's a grim edge on his voice that says he is mourning her anyway.
The loudest absence, though, is Armin. By miles. And while it's some small relief to get confirmation that he'd made it off the planet before it blew, the edge on his voice only gets sharper—]
We'll get them back.
[Connie and Armin. And the Commander, Isabel. (Sasha, if what Gliese had implied to him was true, and not wishful thinking, false hope.) Armin. The people the CDC kidnapped away with them and then torn away from them. They can't do anything but trust them to survive until they do. And he hates it. He's more helpless in this than he was in the forest, during the lockdown. It's almost enough to choke on.]
Armin is gone, transferred and like the others they have no way to contact him, not assurance on how he's faring. Had he even woken up? And if they could transfer Armin... She can't help but clench her jaw, watching carefully the tension working in Eren. He's swallowing his anger, turning it into resolution (hopeless) rather than rage, and at least that she can appreciate.
Carefully, she raises a hand to cover Eren's, letting it rest there until he no longer needs, and she answers him with a ] Yes.
[ But she doesn't believe it. Though, even if she doesn't - Armin is smarter than the both of them, quick to survive and pick his battles. He's strong, and it's likely that they need him more than he needs them. (And they want him here, they need him. Need the reassurance that they, at least, will remain together. That they won't be broken apart one by one.
She misses him. It's lonely.)
And she glances over at November, quiet while in mourning. ] Thanks for coming to tell me.
[ As they list off the names, he realizes how much they've lost. How much they continue to lose. Sure, he'd known Armin and Annie. Had seen Connie around camp sometimes, but that pales in comparison to their loss. This was personal and close. Emotional.
November doesn't have a horse in this race whatsoever.
So, he waits it out, letting them have their time. Letting Eren and Mikasa say their piece, because hearing their resolve is important. He'd already known neither of them to give up easily, but the verbal reassurance is helpful. ]
Of course. If either of you need anything, please let me know.
[ He can't promise emotional support in that way, but rationale and logic can be useful in moments like these. Talking it through can give perspective. However, right now isn't really the time for it. Standing, he goes to take his leave– the aftermath was a private affair between the two of them. ]
[It's unsurprising and incredibly impolite, but Eren hardly seems to notice November taking his leave of them. Head bowed and teeth grit and fingers wrapped tight in Mikasa's sleeve as if he can keep them together this way. (Lost Armin to the whims of the CDC's control, and all he can do about it is grind his teeth down and swallow his anger until it eats away at him instead. Make promises that he would pay out in blood but can't yet begin to follow through on no, matter how badly he wants it.) It's not that he doesn't trust Armin to look after himself. They've been separated before, most dramatically when Eren was taken away after Trost. But he'd always known where they should be, that they were among allies, that they were safe. Now—
He knocks his forehead against Mikasa's. Gently, if firmly, just enough force to lean into her as he works himself up and then back down again. Quiet, but breath coming short and harsh. He hates them. For blackmailing, kidnapping, lying. Taking advantage, taking away. A familiar feeling flaring back up over months, chastened and chased in circles by the newer and sobering reminder that they cannot act against an overwhelming enemy with the information and power they hold now. That they cannot risk the rest of humanity for a selfish gain (or an act of revenge.)
It is paralyzing, infuriating, it runs against the grain of him to be stuck reacting and unable to do anything else. They're not the same helpless and haunted children they were in Shiganshina. (Sometimes it feels like nothing has changed anyway.)]
[ He's angry, that much is evident. And though she's grown a bit wiser over the years, her attempts to negotiate with Eren, to read him when he's in a state of distress is still usually a hit or miss; their approach to things are too different, their beliefs too separate. Right now however, she imagines that he feels the same as she does: helpless, frustrated, lonely. Anxious that they too could be separated at any time, without any guarantee of being reunited or ever hearing from each other again.
She imagines that he's angry at himself, placing the blame on his shoulders for not being able to deliver on the impossible promises that he makes (even though they're all so full of wonder, of what he's accomplished already).
But the point is that he's lingering, close enough that she can sense his tension, and he needs some reassurance, some confidence to be instilled in that still fighting form, but she doesn't know what to say. They both already know that they need to keep their heads down, that stirring trouble or acting out against injustices would do them no favours. But that's the problem and there's just no way around it.
One of her hands finds his shoulder, resting there, strong and unmoving. ]
[Helpless, frustrated. Lonely and angry and afraid. His throat works. He blinks hard. He bows his head as if to hide the evidence, muffles his words into the curve of her neck.]
I know that.
[There's more audible bite in it than he means, less force than there really ought to be. A vicious venting that sparks and dies as quickly as it comes, that fractures in midair and sounds thin and petulant and false at the edges, like a child making himself out to be bigger than he really is. Because he is not as certain as he wants to be, and that is frightening to admit to himself. (Because Armin is gone and Connie's gone he is afraid for them. The whole might of the Corps could not kill Annie and yet she'd vanished without fanfare here, like smoke.)
He doesn't have it in him to give up. (He doesn't have it in him not to take it hard when things go wrong.)]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
DAY 59 after drops announcement
Mikasa and Peggy's evaluations are today; will you be going to watch them?
[ Distractions. ]
no, this is so cute. . .
It's been some time. He's long since exhausted the initial flare of useless anger, denial, frustration. Worked himself down to simmering and seething and staggered.
He very nearly ignores the message that pings in. The hovering sprectre of more bad news is enough to drive him into checking it. He and November aren't particularly close, beyond their arrangment as rovermates. So it's something of a surprise to see the name pop up.
A good five minutes or so after he does—]
where
[Armin is gone. Mikasa is here. (And that's important.)]
dads eren subtly.....
If it were anything like how he himself had reacted to April nearly dying. Well. He wants to head that off before it goes off the deep end. ]
Near the VR rooms. I believe Mikasa's up soon, since they're going alphabetically. I'm certain she'll put on a good show.
[ She's here and he wants to catch her as soon as he can. It's early enough before the assessments that she probably hasn't checked the network yet. ]
nov, he has a bad track record with dads. . .
Sitting on his hands is the last thing he wants to do right now. The hell of it is, the people responsible for all this are so far out of his reach, he may as well be powerless. And he hates it so much, he's sick with it. The iron taste of it rises at the back of his throat, pools in the bottom of his chest.
At some length:]
okay.
[And that's...it. But anyone seeking out the viewing area near the VR rooms, will find Eren folded into a tense ball on one of the spectator benches. Elbows resting against his bent knees, shoulders stiff and jaw squared. Still holding the blackglass white-knuckled in one hand, while the other is fisted frustrated in his hair. There are surely other spectators around waiting for the show to start, but either they're not the friendly sorts or Eren is just giving off enough warning signs to keep them from approaching.
It's probably the latter.
He's not paying anyone around him much mind, though. Attention fixed on the monitors, as if waiting for Mikasa to make her appearance. Nothing, yet.]
uncles him???? weird tbh
Mostly in the fact that Eren would need the time it took to get from the room to the training areas to cool off. Or at least settle into some strange form of tense sullenness. So, he takes his time walking from the mess hall to the VR rooms, pace deliberate. He's got his hands tucked in his pockets, hiding the fact that underneath his relaxed posture, he feels a bit mixed up. A Contractor shouldn't even have these things to deal with, shouldn't be getting involved in emotional entanglements.
In all honesty, he shouldn't even care. Except some small, less numb part of him does. Eren and Mikasa are young, so young. They don't deserve the kind of life they've been handed. He doesn't know their background well enough, but even he can tell it's not pleasant. There's a certain look in a person's eye that will say everything– these two carry a weight on their shoulders that's unmistakable.
Frowning a bit, he ends up in VR area, easily spotting the hunched over teenager. Eren's posture reads go away, but he's going to gently ignore it in favor of stepping closer. Pausing at the end of the bench, he tilts his head down, glancing at the younger man. ]
Is this seat taken?
nov is weird.
(And if Armin's still laid up then Connie's all on his own. And he'll never know why Annie did the things she did. What she was really fighting for.)
He drops his hand down and away from where it was buried in his hair. Looks sharply up at November when he speaks. Even before the question or the owner of the voice really register in his hindbrain, his shoulders square. A tense and combative cornered-animal thing, as if anticipating a fight. Or looking for one. But they stop and sink by small degrees soon after.
Instead of answering November's question:]
She hasn't shown up.
[Mikasa.]
you're not wrong
She may be in a practice round. Or already starting the assessment.
[ It's not positive news, but it's not negative either. Just potential facts laid out with little emotion. ]
I don't think she'll do poorly, do you?
no subject
She won't.
[Because for all he bucks against Mikasa's concern, her shadowing his footsteps, he is under no illusions about her skill. She's good at what she does. He counts on it.
And with a little more momentum (a little more venom on the edges—)]
Nothing the CDC is gonna throw at us is gonna take us down.
[Mikasa. Jean and Levi and Hange. (Armin and Connie and Erwin and Isabel, wherever they ended up.)]
no subject
You've both gotten this far. It would be a shame if you didn't keep going.
[ Is that encouragement? ]
But if it gets under your skin, what will you do?
[ An honest question. Great people have fallen for less. ]
no subject
It gets under his skin. Even if he's not entirely sure what November is asking him, he has an answer.]
I'll fight.
[In the end, it's all he can do.]
It's the only way anything is going to change.
[It's also a good way to get himself killed, here. If he isn't careful. (And believe it or not, he's working on that. Slowly.)]
no subject
[ It's a pointed question, all sharp edges and sharper intent. He's driving at something here, because he's seen what people look like when they're filled with blind hatred. When they can only see revenge and nothing else. In some ways, they're worse off than Contractors because all they can think of and feel is how much it all pains them.
To focus on the vengeance with nothing more than a plan to fight is sure to get someone killed. Eren isn't completely stupid, but he hasn't learned that yet either. There's a big picture to be considered. ]
no subject
But he's fast edging back into active aggravation. The list of dead and gone recruits a reminder of how powerless they are on top of Ajna's destruction. Of how little they could do to change it. The whole of him wants to bare his teeth against it. So November's question is met with a narrow look, an answer that is sharp and kneejerk.]
Of course it matters.
no subject
[ His response almost edges on tired in contrast to Eren's aggravation, to his harsh words and body language. Eren has enough people to keep him grounded, he thinks. Mikasa, especially, is a cool headed balance to the young man's fighting spirit. She uses her head more than her heart (in many but not all instances, therein lies the difference between him and her). But he thinks of the worst case scenario. It's always better to be prepared for it and to have a contingency plan. Or plans. Or to have even considered the possibility of something.
In this case, it's what if Mikasa isn't there to dull Eren's sharper edges. What if she loses her rationale as well, as days and months pass? Ultimately, it may be that the both of them make it to their goal without giving up part of themselves. That's the good ending, in a way. November just wants to make sure they don't put themselves on the bad ending without realizing what they're doing. ]
no subject
I won't.
[For all his anger can come close to consuming him at its worst, if he's got anything going for him, it's force of will. (But the small circle of his steady support is only getting smaller. It's a balancing act that could tip dramatically in any number of terrible ways. November isn't wrong to worry.)
It won't. They won't let it. There's a finality to his tone that's followed by a mutter running through the small crowd of spectators. The monitors have blinked to life, the assessments are starting. And Mikasa ought to be one of the first to finish.]
no subject
They make a strange picture, sitting there sullenly, and she's not sure that she's even seen them spend extended periods of time together before.
But they're there, and she approaches them somewhat cautiously. ]
Were you waiting long?
no subject
At least one of those things he can't do anything about, so he discards it. She'll get her assessment score whenever the instructors were ready. ]
Not terribly long. It seems like you did well.
[ Put the focus on the exam first, ease into other topics. Eren, don't mess this up. ]
no subject
Mikasa— [He nearly speaks over November. The edge on his tone is urgent. Sharp. This is important.] The transfers.
[Has she seen the list?]
no subject
But it doesn't take too long to piece it together. They hear about these transfers with enough frequency that it's what her mind shifts to first, and as excitable as Eren may be, there's not too much that would get him all up in her space like this.
Which means: ]
Who's been sent?
no subject
Armin was reassigned. [ His tone's a little quieter, trying to soften the blow (is that even possible, here). ] I'm sorry, Mikasa.
no subject
Connie, too.
[November couldn't have known they were comrades. Mikasa would want to know he was gone. And—]
Annie's dead.
[And Mikasa won't return the sentiment, she was a titan and a traitor, but there's a grim edge on his voice that says he is mourning her anyway.
The loudest absence, though, is Armin. By miles. And while it's some small relief to get confirmation that he'd made it off the planet before it blew, the edge on his voice only gets sharper—]
We'll get them back.
[Connie and Armin. And the Commander, Isabel. (Sasha, if what Gliese had implied to him was true, and not wishful thinking, false hope.) Armin. The people the CDC kidnapped away with them and then torn away from them. They can't do anything but trust them to survive until they do. And he hates it. He's more helpless in this than he was in the forest, during the lockdown. It's almost enough to choke on.]
no subject
Armin.
Armin is gone, transferred and like the others they have no way to contact him, not assurance on how he's faring. Had he even woken up? And if they could transfer Armin... She can't help but clench her jaw, watching carefully the tension working in Eren. He's swallowing his anger, turning it into resolution (hopeless) rather than rage, and at least that she can appreciate.
Carefully, she raises a hand to cover Eren's, letting it rest there until he no longer needs, and she answers him with a ] Yes.
[ But she doesn't believe it. Though, even if she doesn't - Armin is smarter than the both of them, quick to survive and pick his battles. He's strong, and it's likely that they need him more than he needs them. (And they want him here, they need him. Need the reassurance that they, at least, will remain together. That they won't be broken apart one by one.
She misses him. It's lonely.)
And she glances over at November, quiet while in mourning. ] Thanks for coming to tell me.
no subject
November doesn't have a horse in this race whatsoever.
So, he waits it out, letting them have their time. Letting Eren and Mikasa say their piece, because hearing their resolve is important. He'd already known neither of them to give up easily, but the verbal reassurance is helpful. ]
Of course. If either of you need anything, please let me know.
[ He can't promise emotional support in that way, but rationale and logic can be useful in moments like these. Talking it through can give perspective. However, right now isn't really the time for it. Standing, he goes to take his leave– the aftermath was a private affair between the two of them. ]
no subject
He knocks his forehead against Mikasa's. Gently, if firmly, just enough force to lean into her as he works himself up and then back down again. Quiet, but breath coming short and harsh. He hates them. For blackmailing, kidnapping, lying. Taking advantage, taking away. A familiar feeling flaring back up over months, chastened and chased in circles by the newer and sobering reminder that they cannot act against an overwhelming enemy with the information and power they hold now. That they cannot risk the rest of humanity for a selfish gain (or an act of revenge.)
It is paralyzing, infuriating, it runs against the grain of him to be stuck reacting and unable to do anything else. They're not the same helpless and haunted children they were in Shiganshina. (Sometimes it feels like nothing has changed anyway.)]
no subject
She imagines that he's angry at himself, placing the blame on his shoulders for not being able to deliver on the impossible promises that he makes (even though they're all so full of wonder, of what he's accomplished already).
But the point is that he's lingering, close enough that she can sense his tension, and he needs some reassurance, some confidence to be instilled in that still fighting form, but she doesn't know what to say. They both already know that they need to keep their heads down, that stirring trouble or acting out against injustices would do them no favours. But that's the problem and there's just no way around it.
One of her hands finds his shoulder, resting there, strong and unmoving. ]
We'll find a way.
no subject
I know that.
[There's more audible bite in it than he means, less force than there really ought to be. A vicious venting that sparks and dies as quickly as it comes, that fractures in midair and sounds thin and petulant and false at the edges, like a child making himself out to be bigger than he really is. Because he is not as certain as he wants to be, and that is frightening to admit to himself. (Because Armin is gone and Connie's gone he is afraid for them. The whole might of the Corps could not kill Annie and yet she'd vanished without fanfare here, like smoke.)
He doesn't have it in him to give up. (He doesn't have it in him not to take it hard when things go wrong.)]
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