Maybe it's both: Reiner's ability to understand Eren in a way most people can't these days, and Eren slowly remembering that he's a human being as much as he's a monster. Baby steps.
He raises an eyebrow a little.
"You think I'd ruin your birthday with bad news?" he asks. It's an absurd question; they both know he would.
He shakes his head though.
"No, it's…it's good. I just don't know how to deal with it."
His hands flex against the table and he picks at the edge of his thumb, nervous energy seeking an outlet. It's not quite violence, but it's still got that hinted edge. He's never been good at directing his inner turmoil into anything that isn't at least a little destructive.
He takes a deep breath and looks up at Reiner again.
"The leaders of this place…they told me they can't sense any curse. That for whatever reason, the magic that brought us here and all, it somehow…cancels out our death sentences."
It is indeed an absurd question. Reiner manages to keep his dubious look restrained, merely cocking an eyebrow as if to say, "Well, yeah." Eren is the most vengeful person Reiner has ever met. If Eren decided to ruin Reiner's birthday and their date at the same time, it would hurt, but it wouldn't necessarily come as a surprise.
But they like this better when they're not angry at each other, right? This nameless, fragile thing that allows them to walk beneath cherry blossoms hand-in-hand? So Reiner keeps his expression restrained, and Eren doesn't throw bad news in his face.
Instead, Eren picks at his thumb, visibly nervous. Reiner's brows pinch together, fingers twitching as he fights the impulse to reach out and grasp Eren's hand in his. Wanting to steady him. Wanting to give him something else to scratch at if that's what he needs to do. (Better Reiner's hand than Eren's, right?)
Then Eren says … what he says.
Reiner stares, not processing it. Slowly, he runs the words through his head again. The leaders can't sense a curse. The magic that pulled them here canceled it out. Canceled their death sentences. Canceled the Curse of Ymir. The leaders can't…
His hand reaches for Eren's, an instinctive move that Reiner doesn't register until he finds Eren's hand clasped in his. Who is steadying who? He can't honestly say.
"Are they sure?" he asks, the words coming out more cautious than celebratory.
Reiner has known his expiration date since he was ten years old; like Eren, he has no idea how to deal with this revelation.
Reiner more or less lets him off the hook with that stupid ass question, luckily for both of them. Eren has no idea how other people work together as a thing, but maybe it's always like this: having the power to hurt someone and choosing not to use it, over and over again, because it's better if you don't do that.
He can't always make that choice. He really is the most vengeful person alive, after all, willing to take on the entire world and burn it to ash not for the death of humanity or some noble but for and old hate the threat against a dozen people that matter to him. Sure, freedom for Eldians, safety for Paradis, but those will always be secondary to what is personal to Eren.
He watches Reiner's face as the other boy absorbs the information, spins it around, decides what to do with it. He knows it's a hard thing to accept; he's not sure sure if he's totally accepted it either. And he's only known about the timer on his life since they reached the basement, what, five years ago or something like that? Reiner's always known.
His hand is right there when Reiner reaches for him, without question or thought, just a reaction that feels as easy as breathing. Funny, when he's half-holding his breath.
"Yeah. They're sure," he says. "The captain and Hange found out, and when I went there, Dawn said she could sense a 'curse' but it isn't something shortening my lifespan."
He's also careful. He wouldn't be very celebratory anyway; he hasn't really reached a point where he's good at emoting things like that. It's hard to imagine in general.
"You know, I never planned for an after," he says. Of course he didn't, and how could he? He has no idea (even now) if the titan curse will end forever. He has no idea what happens after he dies. All that mattered to him was reaching the end, whether that meant killing every single person that wasn't on the island or dying himself or both.
But even if he had somehow been swayed, he was always going to die. Everyone is, sure, but titan shifters only get thirteen years, and Eren has stormed through most of those already. So has Reiner, he knows.
"I didn't really plan on now," he says, an admission he will not elaborate on. He's already told Reiner he didn't expect to live until 20. It's enough.
"I have no idea what to do, but with the amount of weird shit magic can do…I guess I kind of believe it."
It's easier to absorb the news with Eren's hand held in his. Easier to remain balanced with that strong, solid grasp steadying him, hands that could inflict so many wounds choosing instead to cling. It's easier with that mirrored heat telling Reiner that he isn't alone, green eyes embracing him.
It's easier. That doesn't mean it's easy.
Reiner has known when he would die since he was ten years old. But even before that, he knew what becoming a Warrior would entail. He knew the price he would pay, quartering his lifespan for the honor of carrying a Titan in his veins. He did it for his mother, wanting her to have a better life. For his father, not knowing that the man considered him a devil. For himself, desperately wishing to be a worthy son: someone his parents could proudly call their own; someone to whom acceptance, approval, and love would flow without condition.
Well, almost without condition. The only condition was that he died at twenty-three.
Reiner accepted that so long ago, readily sacrificing one piece of himself after another, carving himself up until he doesn't know who the hell Reiner Braun is anymore. To learn that he suddenly has more time…
He squeezes Eren's hand. Focuses on Eren's eyes, Eren's words. Gratitude rises within him—not about the news, but about the fact that he isn't alone in dealing with it.
"Yeah," Reiner agrees. "I didn't plan on much, either."
Not beyond becoming a "hero," a plan ground to dust beneath his father's heel, the remnants washed away by Marcel's blood.
"If we were back home, I'd call it bullshit. Just wishful thinking. But…" His gaze dips, resting somewhere around Eren's collarbone. "… You're right about magic doing weird stuff. This place doesn't care about time. Why would it care about a time-based curse?"
He's quiet for a moment before his eyes return to Eren's. A new light flickers within them, more determination than hope. "Maybe we can steal more time than we thought."
Eren squeezes back automatically, the barest reassurance. He can't promise this thing about them not dying is true. Anyway, they could die at any time, right? Titan shifters are hard to kill, but they're not invincible. But he doesn't have a reason to disbelieve Dawn, either.
He nods his understanding. Reiner planned to take back the Founder, complete his mission, and eventually pass the Armored on to (Gabi?) whoever. That was his plan for most of his life, Eren knows. Eren himself had only gotten as far as kill all titans and then…well, it got worse. But he never planned to live. He wants to. He has always wanted to. But he cannot live and keep his friends safe at the same time. There's no way to do that.
Or there wasn't until they came here.
Turns out that when you plan to die, you have no idea how to live.
"I'd never believe it at home either," he says. "But if we die here, we just come back anyway, right?"
A hint of a smile touches the corners of Reiner's lips, that wonderful, terrifying word making the spark in his eyes burn brighter. Maybe. A world of possibilities in that one word. Possibilities that are suddenly (if only potentially) so much vaster, stretching on for decades instead of a scant three/five more years.
Reiner doesn't know what to do with all that time. But maybe—maybe—they can figure it out together.
"Yeah," he says, returning Eren's squeeze. "Let's not test the dying part, though."
Don't die. Don't die like this. Okay. You stay alive too, Eren.
"I know those … giant flowers"—so fucking ridiculous!—"would bring us back. But we don't know what would happen to ou—"
BZZZZ!
Reiner jerks in surprise, his grip reflexively tightening. A second later, he scowls down at the stupid buzzing disc alerting them that their food is ready.
Eren watches Reiner's mouth move towards smiling. He wonders idly if in that terrible future Reiner also just…forgets how. He was so fucked up in Liberio. They both were.
He doesn't want either of them to ever have to see the end of that future. Even if they did die in a few years, would that be the worst thing? He doesn't think it would be, though he has never in all of his life actually wanted to die. Accepting death and wanting it are not the same thing.
What do you want to be? Alive.
"I don't plan to die," he says, which is — finally — very true. Now that he doesn't have to, he'd much rather just not, thanks!
He's just as startled by the buzzing thing as Reiner is, the way it sort of vibrates itself across the surface of the table (slowly). What the fuck.
"Oh…the food," he says, blinking. He reaches for the disc (how do you turn this off! he has no idea!) and reluctantly stands to go get their food. Reluctant, because it means letting go again.
As far as first encounters with buzzing discs go, it could be worse. One of them could have punched it or thrown it into the street. But the timing is so damned inconvenient that Reiner immediately gains an irrational bias against the stupid things. (How dare it interrupt their conversation!)
He's just as reluctant to relinquish contact as Eren is, squeezing one last time before finally letting go. Their food is waiting, after all. As Eren makes his way over to get it, the hint of a smile on Reiner's face blooms, his thoughts shifting from the risk of death and towards the simple joy of sharing food.
The idea of a full life is still overwhelming. But for right now, they can enjoy the moment, trying new things and finishing it off with some of Eren's homemade cookies—and later, birthday cake.
When Eren returns, Reiner's hand will be right there, ready to renew contact as they share their meal.
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He raises an eyebrow a little.
"You think I'd ruin your birthday with bad news?" he asks. It's an absurd question; they both know he would.
He shakes his head though.
"No, it's…it's good. I just don't know how to deal with it."
His hands flex against the table and he picks at the edge of his thumb, nervous energy seeking an outlet. It's not quite violence, but it's still got that hinted edge. He's never been good at directing his inner turmoil into anything that isn't at least a little destructive.
He takes a deep breath and looks up at Reiner again.
"The leaders of this place…they told me they can't sense any curse. That for whatever reason, the magic that brought us here and all, it somehow…cancels out our death sentences."
no subject
But they like this better when they're not angry at each other, right? This nameless, fragile thing that allows them to walk beneath cherry blossoms hand-in-hand? So Reiner keeps his expression restrained, and Eren doesn't throw bad news in his face.
Instead, Eren picks at his thumb, visibly nervous. Reiner's brows pinch together, fingers twitching as he fights the impulse to reach out and grasp Eren's hand in his. Wanting to steady him. Wanting to give him something else to scratch at if that's what he needs to do. (Better Reiner's hand than Eren's, right?)
Then Eren says … what he says.
Reiner stares, not processing it. Slowly, he runs the words through his head again. The leaders can't sense a curse. The magic that pulled them here canceled it out. Canceled their death sentences. Canceled the Curse of Ymir. The leaders can't…
His hand reaches for Eren's, an instinctive move that Reiner doesn't register until he finds Eren's hand clasped in his. Who is steadying who? He can't honestly say.
"Are they sure?" he asks, the words coming out more cautious than celebratory.
Reiner has known his expiration date since he was ten years old; like Eren, he has no idea how to deal with this revelation.
no subject
He can't always make that choice. He really is the most vengeful person alive, after all, willing to take on the entire world and burn it to ash not for the death of humanity or some noble but for and old hate the threat against a dozen people that matter to him. Sure, freedom for Eldians, safety for Paradis, but those will always be secondary to what is personal to Eren.
He watches Reiner's face as the other boy absorbs the information, spins it around, decides what to do with it. He knows it's a hard thing to accept; he's not sure sure if he's totally accepted it either. And he's only known about the timer on his life since they reached the basement, what, five years ago or something like that? Reiner's always known.
His hand is right there when Reiner reaches for him, without question or thought, just a reaction that feels as easy as breathing. Funny, when he's half-holding his breath.
"Yeah. They're sure," he says. "The captain and Hange found out, and when I went there, Dawn said she could sense a 'curse' but it isn't something shortening my lifespan."
He's also careful. He wouldn't be very celebratory anyway; he hasn't really reached a point where he's good at emoting things like that. It's hard to imagine in general.
"You know, I never planned for an after," he says. Of course he didn't, and how could he? He has no idea (even now) if the titan curse will end forever. He has no idea what happens after he dies. All that mattered to him was reaching the end, whether that meant killing every single person that wasn't on the island or dying himself or both.
But even if he had somehow been swayed, he was always going to die. Everyone is, sure, but titan shifters only get thirteen years, and Eren has stormed through most of those already. So has Reiner, he knows.
"I didn't really plan on now," he says, an admission he will not elaborate on. He's already told Reiner he didn't expect to live until 20. It's enough.
"I have no idea what to do, but with the amount of weird shit magic can do…I guess I kind of believe it."
no subject
It's easier. That doesn't mean it's easy.
Reiner has known when he would die since he was ten years old. But even before that, he knew what becoming a Warrior would entail. He knew the price he would pay, quartering his lifespan for the honor of carrying a Titan in his veins. He did it for his mother, wanting her to have a better life. For his father, not knowing that the man considered him a devil. For himself, desperately wishing to be a worthy son: someone his parents could proudly call their own; someone to whom acceptance, approval, and love would flow without condition.
Well, almost without condition. The only condition was that he died at twenty-three.
Reiner accepted that so long ago, readily sacrificing one piece of himself after another, carving himself up until he doesn't know who the hell Reiner Braun is anymore. To learn that he suddenly has more time…
He squeezes Eren's hand. Focuses on Eren's eyes, Eren's words. Gratitude rises within him—not about the news, but about the fact that he isn't alone in dealing with it.
"Yeah," Reiner agrees. "I didn't plan on much, either."
Not beyond becoming a "hero," a plan ground to dust beneath his father's heel, the remnants washed away by Marcel's blood.
"If we were back home, I'd call it bullshit. Just wishful thinking. But…" His gaze dips, resting somewhere around Eren's collarbone. "… You're right about magic doing weird stuff. This place doesn't care about time. Why would it care about a time-based curse?"
He's quiet for a moment before his eyes return to Eren's. A new light flickers within them, more determination than hope. "Maybe we can steal more time than we thought."
no subject
He nods his understanding. Reiner planned to take back the Founder, complete his mission, and eventually pass the Armored on to (Gabi?) whoever. That was his plan for most of his life, Eren knows. Eren himself had only gotten as far as kill all titans and then…well, it got worse. But he never planned to live. He wants to. He has always wanted to. But he cannot live and keep his friends safe at the same time. There's no way to do that.
Or there wasn't until they came here.
Turns out that when you plan to die, you have no idea how to live.
"I'd never believe it at home either," he says. "But if we die here, we just come back anyway, right?"
He squeezes Reiner's hand again tighter.
"Maybe," he says.
Maybe.
no subject
Reiner doesn't know what to do with all that time. But maybe—maybe—they can figure it out together.
"Yeah," he says, returning Eren's squeeze. "Let's not test the dying part, though."
Don't die. Don't die like this.
Okay. You stay alive too, Eren.
"I know those … giant flowers"—so fucking ridiculous!—"would bring us back. But we don't know what would happen to ou—"
BZZZZ!
Reiner jerks in surprise, his grip reflexively tightening. A second later, he scowls down at the stupid buzzing disc alerting them that their food is ready.
we can wrap up here if you like?
He doesn't want either of them to ever have to see the end of that future. Even if they did die in a few years, would that be the worst thing? He doesn't think it would be, though he has never in all of his life actually wanted to die. Accepting death and wanting it are not the same thing.
What do you want to be?
Alive.
"I don't plan to die," he says, which is — finally — very true. Now that he doesn't have to, he'd much rather just not, thanks!
He's just as startled by the buzzing thing as Reiner is, the way it sort of vibrates itself across the surface of the table (slowly). What the fuck.
"Oh…the food," he says, blinking. He reaches for the disc (how do you turn this off! he has no idea!) and reluctantly stands to go get their food. Reluctant, because it means letting go again.
sure!
He's just as reluctant to relinquish contact as Eren is, squeezing one last time before finally letting go. Their food is waiting, after all. As Eren makes his way over to get it, the hint of a smile on Reiner's face blooms, his thoughts shifting from the risk of death and towards the simple joy of sharing food.
The idea of a full life is still overwhelming. But for right now, they can enjoy the moment, trying new things and finishing it off with some of Eren's homemade cookies—and later, birthday cake.
When Eren returns, Reiner's hand will be right there, ready to renew contact as they share their meal.