[ Time doesn't matter too much to Eren on a good day, and he isn't really having a good day. For Eren, it's not that bad a day, really. He's not doing anything needlessly destructive. He had the inklings of it a few days ago, when he went and got drunk and thought about picking a fight.
He hadn't, which is a big deal for him! He might still pick a fight at some point, either to have something to hit or to have something hit him. Either way is kind of fine. But he reined it in then and now he's home not washing a mug in the sink. You know, like a normal person.
Armin disappearing is a blow that Eren isn't equipped to handle, would never be equipped to handle. It's better than death, something finite and absolute (though as far as he knows, no one who leaves here gets to come back). Armin goes home and has the life that Eren left him — will leave him — and that's how it is. It isn't the greatest thing for either of them in the end, but Eren's selfishness never accounted for the hole he would leave in everyone else's life. For Armin, that might be a hole that never gets filled.
For Eren, the same might be true in reverse now. Not dead is preferable to dead, but not here is not here. He knows Gabi and Galliard also disappeared. Reiner took that hard, and Eren takes this hard. That's just how it is.
There are no guarantees for how long anyone has. Maybe death is impermanent here, but there's no guarantee they'll stay. He wishes it didn't hurt. He wishes he knew how to numb himself down again, but he no longer can.
He gets lost in his head, in time, in whatever. He thinks of the photos they have now, him and Armin and the three of them and even just Armin. Eren doesn't need photos to remember the face of a boy he has known longer than anyone else still alive, but at least he does have them.
Armin was right, of course. Having the printed photos is different than the ones on the phone.
He thinks of the ocean and the fireflies, Armin younger than he should have been. He thinks of the ocean filled with blood, at odds with the blue sky, a conversation neither of them actually lived through seen from outside themselves. Armin's anger and his tears and I love you.
He wants to scream but he just stares at the sink, the water left running as his hands stilled.
Somewhere through the haze of all his overlapping memories, he hears Levi's voice. ]
Yes, Captain.
[ It's an automatic answer, an acknowledgment without actually listening. He's half here, which is better than all gone. Probably. ]
[ Moments like these really bring things into perspective, don't they? The impermanence that they're never able to escape. Even if there are less chances to meet a violent, untimely death here, there is still never a guarantee that the people they have around them will still be there tomorrow. ]
[ It's still the same. ]
[ Levi hesitates for a moment, then awkwardly lands a hand somewhere on the back of Eren's shoulder, grounding, comforting, making his best attempt to do so. ]
I'm sorry. [ What else is there to say? ] He deserved more time here.
[ It's something Eren actively wanted for all of them, though he lost sight of that somewhere in all his madness. Happiness stopped being the point — his own, Armin's, Mikasa's. It wasn't about that. He didn't think he had the luxury of caring about something so fleeting.
He wanted them to live. He just had some massive oversight of what life, after, could or would look like. Even now, when he thinks about it, it doesn't factor in.
It's already done, anyway. It was done before any of them ever knew, ever realised. That's how Eren sees it. Maybe it's how he has to see it. ]
Everyone believes we go home when we leave here. It seems like the most obvious, but…this is the second world I've been to. It's the third or something for Jean and Mikasa. So maybe…
[ Maybe Armin still didn't have to go back to that hell. There's no way to know. The uncertainty is worse than death in some ways, because death is so final and absolute (or it was before this place). Eren isn't sure what he wants to think, that Armin went home to a future that is set in stone up to a point, or that he went to yet another place. It could be a relatively nice one, like here, like Folkmore. Or it could be like the horror show Hakkai had ended up in before here.
[ He will be, he wants to say. But he doesn't know that, does he? Even if Armin manages to move on, manages to craft himself a new life... the way he'd almost cried of his anger, of how important Eren and Mikasa were to him still haunts him. Maybe it would all be a performance, or the best possible effort. ]
[ That doesn't mean he would be truly, genuinely happy. ]
[ Levi would know; after all he has lost more people dear to him than he has left. ]
He'll be... okay, back home. [ He feels like he needs to say it, even if it may not be as reassuring as he'd like. It's not a lie, though. He may not ever be entirely happy again, but he will be okay. All of them who survived will. ] But I hope he gets to visit someplace better, too.
[ It's a nice thought, especially when it comes to those that don't have a life to come back to at home. To think that rather than being sent back to die, perhaps they get another chance at another world. As much as Levi would selfishly want to keep them here, with him, he will much rather choose sending them away than condemning them to death again. ]
[ Eren nods. Armin would be okay back home because he has to be, because he's strong. Some people don't think that Armin is strong, but Eren knows better. Physical strength isn't the only kind of strength. It took Eren way too long to realise that. ]
I know he will.
[ Anyway, he knows Armin lives to the end. That isn't the same as being okay, but it's what Eren needs to know. The world he leaves them is a ruined one, but that never mattered as much as the fact that they live at all. Eren's black and white thinking is nearly impossible to overcome. ]
I hope you don't disappear, Captain.
[ He says it quietly, barely audible, almost as if he's afraid to say it. He knows they have no control, but of everyone, Levi is the one who most deserves this world, he thinks. Levi is the one who loses the most. On some level, Eren is sorry for that — for those losses.
Not sorry for the world, for the ending. He wouldn't change his mind. But he doesn't relish any of them suffering.
His words are half selfish, though, like a lot of what he says or thinks. He likes this relationship they have now, not what it was before he fucked it up on purpose, but...family. They're (still) family, and he doesn't want Levi to go too. ]
[ Some people clearly haven't been outsmarted by a nerd they could easily bench press and it shows. ]
[ Levi makes a small noise of agreement, and for a little bit he thinks maybe the conversation is over, and he's not sure what else he can do to offer comfort. Eren's next phrase startles him; it's something he hadn't been particularly worried about at all, even though he is of course aware it could be him being sent back home next time. ]
[ Perhaps it's because he knows he lives. Perhaps it's because others do not. Better him than them. As much as he loves being here, as much as he doesn't want to go, he would gladly give it up to give one of the others a chance at it. ]
[ But that's such a simple way to look at it, isn't it? There's still plenty of people who would be hurt by him disappearing, too, people that he loves, people that he would rather not cause suffering to. ]
no subject
He hadn't, which is a big deal for him! He might still pick a fight at some point, either to have something to hit or to have something hit him. Either way is kind of fine. But he reined it in then and now he's home not washing a mug in the sink. You know, like a normal person.
Armin disappearing is a blow that Eren isn't equipped to handle, would never be equipped to handle. It's better than death, something finite and absolute (though as far as he knows, no one who leaves here gets to come back). Armin goes home and has the life that Eren left him — will leave him — and that's how it is. It isn't the greatest thing for either of them in the end, but Eren's selfishness never accounted for the hole he would leave in everyone else's life. For Armin, that might be a hole that never gets filled.
For Eren, the same might be true in reverse now. Not dead is preferable to dead, but not here is not here. He knows Gabi and Galliard also disappeared. Reiner took that hard, and Eren takes this hard. That's just how it is.
There are no guarantees for how long anyone has. Maybe death is impermanent here, but there's no guarantee they'll stay. He wishes it didn't hurt. He wishes he knew how to numb himself down again, but he no longer can.
He gets lost in his head, in time, in whatever. He thinks of the photos they have now, him and Armin and the three of them and even just Armin. Eren doesn't need photos to remember the face of a boy he has known longer than anyone else still alive, but at least he does have them.
Armin was right, of course. Having the printed photos is different than the ones on the phone.
He thinks of the ocean and the fireflies, Armin younger than he should have been. He thinks of the ocean filled with blood, at odds with the blue sky, a conversation neither of them actually lived through seen from outside themselves. Armin's anger and his tears and I love you.
He wants to scream but he just stares at the sink, the water left running as his hands stilled.
Somewhere through the haze of all his overlapping memories, he hears Levi's voice. ]
Yes, Captain.
[ It's an automatic answer, an acknowledgment without actually listening. He's half here, which is better than all gone. Probably. ]
no subject
[ It's still the same. ]
[ Levi hesitates for a moment, then awkwardly lands a hand somewhere on the back of Eren's shoulder, grounding, comforting, making his best attempt to do so. ]
I'm sorry. [ What else is there to say? ] He deserved more time here.
[ With you, for better or worse. ]
no subject
[ It's something Eren actively wanted for all of them, though he lost sight of that somewhere in all his madness. Happiness stopped being the point — his own, Armin's, Mikasa's. It wasn't about that. He didn't think he had the luxury of caring about something so fleeting.
He wanted them to live. He just had some massive oversight of what life, after, could or would look like. Even now, when he thinks about it, it doesn't factor in.
It's already done, anyway. It was done before any of them ever knew, ever realised. That's how Eren sees it. Maybe it's how he has to see it. ]
Everyone believes we go home when we leave here. It seems like the most obvious, but…this is the second world I've been to. It's the third or something for Jean and Mikasa. So maybe…
[ Maybe Armin still didn't have to go back to that hell. There's no way to know. The uncertainty is worse than death in some ways, because death is so final and absolute (or it was before this place). Eren isn't sure what he wants to think, that Armin went home to a future that is set in stone up to a point, or that he went to yet another place. It could be a relatively nice one, like here, like Folkmore. Or it could be like the horror show Hakkai had ended up in before here.
He hates not knowing. ]
no subject
[ He will be, he wants to say. But he doesn't know that, does he? Even if Armin manages to move on, manages to craft himself a new life... the way he'd almost cried of his anger, of how important Eren and Mikasa were to him still haunts him. Maybe it would all be a performance, or the best possible effort. ]
[ That doesn't mean he would be truly, genuinely happy. ]
[ Levi would know; after all he has lost more people dear to him than he has left. ]
He'll be... okay, back home. [ He feels like he needs to say it, even if it may not be as reassuring as he'd like. It's not a lie, though. He may not ever be entirely happy again, but he will be okay. All of them who survived will. ] But I hope he gets to visit someplace better, too.
[ It's a nice thought, especially when it comes to those that don't have a life to come back to at home. To think that rather than being sent back to die, perhaps they get another chance at another world. As much as Levi would selfishly want to keep them here, with him, he will much rather choose sending them away than condemning them to death again. ]
no subject
I know he will.
[ Anyway, he knows Armin lives to the end. That isn't the same as being okay, but it's what Eren needs to know. The world he leaves them is a ruined one, but that never mattered as much as the fact that they live at all. Eren's black and white thinking is nearly impossible to overcome. ]
I hope you don't disappear, Captain.
[ He says it quietly, barely audible, almost as if he's afraid to say it. He knows they have no control, but of everyone, Levi is the one who most deserves this world, he thinks. Levi is the one who loses the most. On some level, Eren is sorry for that — for those losses.
Not sorry for the world, for the ending. He wouldn't change his mind. But he doesn't relish any of them suffering.
His words are half selfish, though, like a lot of what he says or thinks. He likes this relationship they have now, not what it was before he fucked it up on purpose, but...family. They're (still) family, and he doesn't want Levi to go too. ]
no subject
[ Levi makes a small noise of agreement, and for a little bit he thinks maybe the conversation is over, and he's not sure what else he can do to offer comfort. Eren's next phrase startles him; it's something he hadn't been particularly worried about at all, even though he is of course aware it could be him being sent back home next time. ]
[ Perhaps it's because he knows he lives. Perhaps it's because others do not. Better him than them. As much as he loves being here, as much as he doesn't want to go, he would gladly give it up to give one of the others a chance at it. ]
[ But that's such a simple way to look at it, isn't it? There's still plenty of people who would be hurt by him disappearing, too, people that he loves, people that he would rather not cause suffering to. ]
...yeah. Me too.