museflight

[museflight]

... The tags on this account started publicly posting just when tags on my main started working again.

I'm gonna ditch this account (or at least, store it until I have more use for it) and hop back over to @bnhayyy . Expect fic updates and information there!

[museflight]

Alright! All three chapters of my Mikannie fic have been posted to this account, and all chapters will be posted to it going forward.

Going to try and get Unchanging Destinations up tonight.

[museflight]

The Call (3)

Chapter Title: Secret

Wordcount: 8.2k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Chapter Summary: Between civilians learning about the supernatural and a new player introducing herself, Mikasa has a hard day. And Annie lies. A lot.

Notes: Preemptively, I want to let you know that chapter lengths for this fic are going to vary wildly. I outline chapters before I write them and use events and intensity to pace out what all goes in a chapter. Chapter length is simply however many words it takes to turn the outline into an actual chapter. This means that while the average chapter length will probably be about 4k, some will be significantly shorter, while others, such as this one, will be significantly longer. Also! If you are enjoying this fic, please consider joining my writing discord.

Erwin called Mikasa after trigonometry the next day, just before she could start her patrol. When she didn't answer, he sent a text. That, combined with the knowledge of just how rarely he texted, made her pause. 

Smith: Meet me in my office

**Smith: **It’s urgent

Mikasa frowned down at the message. To say that she didn't relish the thought of jumping at the watcher's beck and call was an understatement, especially when doing so would delay her patrol. However, despite her attempts to avoid him, she had come to realize that he was not the sort of man to use words like 'urgent' lightly. For him to do so now…

Mina hadn't returned to class that day.

Mikasa pursed her lips and allowed herself to get lost in her frustration as she gazed down at the text for a moment longer. Then, with a furtive glance at the rapidly darkening sky, she shoved her phone in her pocket and turned on her heel. 

It was a short walk to Erwin's office. Located on the second floor of the English department building, it wasn't especially large or convenient, but it was simple. Inconspicuous. It was, she supposed, what he could manage as a teacher at a community college, for that was what he was to the public.

She wasn't certain how he had convinced the administration to allow him to paint the walls pink.

Armin had suggested that it was because he was charismatic. Personally, she didn't see it, but that didn't particularly matter. None of it did, in the end. She was probably going to be told about a particularly vicious vampire preying on college students. Or maybe a flesh-eating demon, considering that there hadn't been any remains found. Whatever it was, it would be horrible news. And if she was going to receive that horrible news inside a small pink room, then she was going to receive that horrible news inside a small pink room. The only thing that mattered was that she learned what she had to learn and killed what she had to kill.

The whole thing was perfectly laid out in her mind. Perhaps that was why she didn't bother knocking when she reached Erwin's office; she thought she knew what to expect.

She _ didn't _ expect to open the door and find four people crowded around Erwin's desk, one of them holding a red-stained cloth to his neck.

Mikasa automatically stumbled a step back at the same time that five pairs of eyes swung toward her. It was with a faint burst of surprise that she realized she could recognize all of them. Reiner was standing in front of the desk, his face a mask of grave urgency. Jean sat in a chair beside him, clutching the cloth to his bleeding neck. Whereas Reiner seemed unsurprised by her arrival, Jean's eyes were wide and shocked. Finally, a pair of goofballs from her history class stood off in the corner, whispering frantically to each other even as their gazes remained locked on Mikasa.

They only stared at each other in silence for a moment. It was a moment too long for Mikasa. With a tense knot of discomfort growing tighter within her by the second, she turned her attention to the person she least wanted to see right now, but most needed to hear from.

"Erwin," she croaked. "What's going on?"

"Mikasa," Erwin began, his expression steady and voice damningly even. Like his urgent matter hadn't just called her into an office full of civilians. Like it didn't look like something was happening that was very much _ not _supposed to happen. "There was an attack on campus today."

"A _ vampire _ attack," Jean muttered, the shell-shocked disbelief plain in his voice. Reiner gave him a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder. Jean immediately winced and rubbed his free hand against the base of his neck, causing Reiner to withdraw with an apologetic look.

"A vampire attack," the ponytailed goofball repeated, her voice a conflicted mixture of excited, awe-struck, and terrified. Her friend, meanwhile, just looked horrified. It was a look that she saw mirrored on Jean's face, although he also seemed a little more distant and nauseous. Probably because of the blood loss.

Mikasa tried to ignore all three of them. Even so, she couldn't help but shoot brief glances their way every few seconds. Erwin, however, had no such problem. He just spared Jean a short, semi-concerned glance before continuing. "Mister Kirstein was attacked in full view of Miss Braus and Mister Springer. I arrived just in time to see the vampire dispatched by Mister Braun." He paused, casting a long, searching look at Reiner.

"And now they know," Mikasa said, unsure if she was numb, or feeling too many things at once. She supposed it was a good thing that Eren wasn't there. The office suddenly felt too damn claustrophobic without an extra presence, even one that didn’t really exist.

"Well, I've known about stuff like this for a while," Reiner admitted with a shrug. Despite having the full force of Erwin's piercing gaze on him, he managed to look only a little uncomfortable. At another time, she may have been impressed.

"I thought you might," Erwin said. "Most civilians don't walk around with stakes on them."

"Is that what that was?" the bald goofball murmured. There was a distant, shaken quality to his voice. Mikasa could understand it, but couldn't quite get herself to care right now. Heedless to her judgment, the goofball continued. "A vampire killing thing? I've seen it before, when you were getting stuff from your bag. I just thought you were really into woodworking."

Reiner blinked. "I'm terrible at carpentry," he said.

"Really?" the bald guy asked. "You don't look it."

"Are we really having this conversation right now?" Jean whispered.

"No," Mikasa cut in.

To Erwin, she asked, "why did you call me here? Do you think this vampire is the one responsible for the disappearances?" Three civilians finding out about the existence of the supernatural had the potential to be bad, but she didn't see how calling the slayer into the situation could make it better. She couldn't see how getting her involved could do anything but make it _ worse_.

But if Erwin had called her in to talk about the vampire, why did it sound like Reiner had already killed it? And why did he call her in while everyone else was still there?

"I doubt it," Erwin said, lending unfortunate credence to the sinking feeling in her stomach. "If a supernatural being is behind those, it has been far more careful than this vampire was. It may have been emboldened by the disappearances, but that is likely the full extent of the connection."

"So you _ don't _ think a demon is behind them?" Mikasa challenged. At the same time, the girl with the ponytail piped back up to ask, "wait - so Franz and Hannah and all them; a _ vampire _ was behind all those?"

Erwin frowned. In the seconds that he took to compose his reply, Jean grumbled, "I thought they were talking about demons."

"Vampires are demons," Reiner chimed in. "It's just that not all demons are vampires."

"Right," Jean said, a heavy sigh leaving him along with his words. He slumped forward, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. "I guess it doesn't matter if there's something out there killing people either way."

"We don't know that," Erwin finally said. Meeting Mikasa's gaze with his own, he said, "I'm not saying that it _ isn't _ a demon responsible for this. However, most demons leave some form of remains behind and don't bother hiding them well, let alone this thoroughly. We cannot afford to dismiss the possibility that there is a human behind this."

Jean dropped his face fully into his hand and made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and the sound of someone choking. "And I don't suppose there's any chance that this could all be one big coincidence?"

"Yeah," the bald guy piped up. "That guy tried to take a chunk out of Jean's neck, but I mean, have you met Jean? I can't say I'd blame-"

"Shut up, Connie," Jean grumbled.

Reiner tried to hide a laugh with a cough into his fist. Jean raised his head and lowered his hand to shoot him a glare. Meanwhile, Erwin offered a small, sad smile.

"It is possible," the watcher said. "But at this point, it would be best not to get your hopes up."

"Yeah," the ponytailed girl murmured. "Take a look around; it's been starting to feel like an episode of _ Frontline _ around here."

"Don't be silly, Sasha," Connie chided, his already shaky voice sounding that much more agitated. "There are no vampires in _ Frontline_."

A thoughtful look flickered across Erwin's face. "Actually-"

Mikasa felt something inside of her snap. "So you aren't ready to commit to it being a demon," she said, voice cold as the arctic. "Fine. You still haven't told me _ why I'm here _."

Erwin's expression shifted, but it was too fast and undefined for her to stand a chance at telling exactly how. That was fine. She didn't particularly care at the moment.

"Jean, Sasha, and Connie all know about the existence of the supernatural now," he began, his voice never once rising or showing any sign of losing balance in face of her ire. "For their own safety, it would be best for them to learn more."

Mikasa had to fight back the urge to grind her teeth together. She wouldn't have bothered if it was just her. Unfortunately, allowing this collection of near-strangers and one almost-friend to see how much he was getting to her was simply unacceptable. Instead, she kept her voice even and measured in its coldness as she said, "and you want me to teach them."

"No," Erwin said. "I wouldn't expect that of you. I will tell them everything that they need to know. I called you here because if there are more people in the area who are aware, it would be safest for us to know about each other."

Unthinkingly, Mikasa's gaze drifted to Reiner, and his eyes met hers.

There was a moment of silence in which one could hear a pin drop.

Unfortunately, Erwin was good at reading things like that. "Is there something I should know?" he asked.

Mikasa and Reiner maintained eye contact for a long moment, him frowning while her expression remained stuck in one of neutrality, unsure of what to think and feel. She had known that the existence of a second slayer was something that she should come to her watcher with. It had simply been too easy _ not _to with everything else that was clogging up her mind. But now the subject had resurfaced, and she found herself unsure of what course of action should be taken.

It was supposed to be the watcher council's duty to assist and guide the slayer. That did not mean that they were beyond reproach. She knew of their capacity for failure, was always aware of the damage that might have been avoided if they had simply been a little faster, a little smarter, found her a little sooner

That was damage wrought by inaction. And unfortunately, with how long that inaction had persisted, she did not yet have any true way to gauge what harm they may do when they were actually involved.

With everything so unsure, what right did she have to hand Annie over to them?

Perhaps it was a good thing that it had come up while one of Annie's friends was around. That meant that it ultimately wasn't her call to make.

Mikasa couldn't help but feel a burst of selfish relief when Reiner finally turned his gaze toward Erwin, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

"My friend Bertolt also knows," Reiner hesitantly admitted. "Because our friend, Annie, is also a slayer."

Erwin _ froze_. His normally composed facade fractured just enough for a hint of shock to bleed through. Mikasa may have enjoyed it were it not for how his sharp eyes immediately sought her out. It seemed that her apparent familiarity with Reiner had made him dismiss the possibility that his words were as much news to her as him; that look was commanding her to _ talk_.

Not demanding. Commanding. She didn't know exactly what the difference was, but in that moment, she knew it was there. It told her that she would not be able to worm her way out of this no matter how hard she tried. That was why, for the second time in as many days, she forced those horrible words out of her mouth and tried not to let them touch her. "Something happened not long after I was called. I died for a few minutes."

Suddenly, she was acutely away of Jean, Connie, and Sasha's silence, of their eyes boring into her. Her skin crawled beneath Erwin's piercing gaze. Even Reiner's contemplative expression, for all that she'd already told him this story yesterday, felt like too much.

She tried to brush the suffocating feeling off with a shrug. When that failed, she added, "I didn't think it was important."

"It is," Erwin said.

"Yeah," Mikasa murmured. "I can see that."

That horrible silence returned. Or at least, it tried to. Sasha interrupted it by taking a step forward and stammering out, "So, I- uh- I know that this might be a bad time, but. What's a slayer?"

Erwin cast Mikasa a long look. Then, slowly, he said, "I think it might be better to discuss this with _ all _of us here." Turning his attention to Reiner, he asked, "do you think your friends would be willing to meet with us tomorrow morning? Say, in the library, at nine o'clock?"

"There's an _ us _ now, huh?" Jean murmured. His expression was lost and distant, save for the hint of sadness that flickered across his features when he glanced at Mikasa every few seconds.

Meanwhile, Reiner slowly nodded. "Yeah. Bertolt might have work, but Annie- I can't promise she'll be happy, but yeah, I think I can swing it."

"Good," Erwin said. "Mikasa-"

She cut him off, clinging to one of the only thoughts she could formulate at the moment. "You said it's safer for everyone who knows about the supernatural to know about each other," she said. "Do you really believe that?"

The council had done nothing to earn her trust, but she could admit that Erwin possessed a decent amount of expertise on certain matters. Enough so that his opinion may be worth considering here

Erwin blinked. "Of course," he said. "It's safest _ not _ to know, but where that fails, there's safety in numbers."

"I'm going to tell Marco, then," Jean said, voice steadier than it had been throughout the rest of the conversation

"I strongly advise against it," Erwin cautioned. "It may be hard to believe, but it _ is _safest not to know about these things. Once you are aware, the odds of you being targeted by a vampire or demon increase exponentially. After what happened earlier, it would be irresponsible for me not to teach you how to defend yourself, but believe me when I say that your friend is better off not knowing."

It looked like Jean had more to say, but Mikasa didn't see a point in sticking around to hear it. Not when she already knew everything she needed and had so many reasons to leave. She gave a stiff nod and said, "I'll bring Armin with me tomorrow." 

With that, she turned around and swept out of the room - and away from all of the pitying looks.

She had to patrol.

The sun had long since sunken over the horizon by the time she was able to head out on patrol. She couldn't help but be irritated by the time lost despite knowing that it probably wouldn't make any difference. Most demons, especially vampires, weren't truly active until two or three hours after nightfall. The meeting may have eaten up a chunk of her time, but it hadn't taken _ that _ long. It was most likely that she hadn't missed anything at all.

Most likely. What about the times when unlikely things happened? If there _ had _ been something out there and she had missed it...

Mikasa fought down the frustration threatening to well up and forced herself to focus on the situation as it was. If something had happened in the extra time that she was away, then she had missed it. There was nothing she could do that could change that. What she had to do now was keep her eyes peeled for potential threats.

The graveyard _ seemed _ empty aside from herself; not even Eren was there to accompany her. That was good. She _ wanted _space after what Erwin had dropped on her. However, there was something about the emptiness that set her on edge, the creeping feeling that she was wrong, that she had to be missing something. It almost made her wish that-

"Well," a bright, mocking voice reached down from above. "If it isn't the slayer. Sun set... oof, over an hour ago, but hey. Don't rush on my account."

Mikasa turned around, stepped back, and looked up. There was an old oak tree not five feet away from where she was standing. Its branches were wide and sprawling. Sitting with her feet dangling over the edge of one of the thickest ones, dangerously close to directly over her, was a woman. She thought she saw brown hair and freckles, but it was difficult to make out between the low light of the evening and the additional shade of the tree. The thing that _ really _stood out was her grin, wide and jeering. Like someone laughing at a joke that they hadn't yet seen fit to let anyone else in on.

In a situation like this, odds were that _ she _was the joke.

Mikasa took a few more deft steps back, just to put some more space between herself and the stranger. Then she scowled. Questions like 'who are you' and 'what did you want' were worse than pointless. So instead, she commanded, "get down."

"Mmm, no," the woman said. "I don't feel like fighting tonight. Besides, you should be happy to get a break."

Mikasa didn't say anything. She looked over at the oak tree and followed the path up to the branch that the woman was sitting on, trying to figure out how to get at her without giving her an advantage in the process.

The woman didn't seem at all bothered by her silence - or by her very visibly scoping out the situation. She cheerfully continued, "I mean, you work your ass off pretty much every night, even when there isn't actually anything to do. But I can guarantee that nothing's going to happen tonight; not with me around."

_ That _ made Mikasa pause, but not for a good reason. She felt every muscle in her body tense as her gaze jerked back to the woman. "Why is that?" she asked.

"Why else?" the stranger asked. "Paradis is a small pond, and I'm the biggest fish."

The biggest fish.

With recent events, what would being the biggest fish entail?

As far as Mikasa was concerned, it was as good as a confession.

She was moving before she even stopped to think about it. She spun around to the other side of the tree, putting some distance between herself and the stranger, and planted one foot firmly amidst the roots at its base. Her other foot was placed in the middle of the trunk. One push, and she was able to reach out to grasp one of the low-hanging branches. Mikasa pulled and quickly twisted herself up to the top of the trunk, where it split away into a maze of branches-

And was met with a grumbled, "for fuck's sake." In the milliseconds she spent straightening up and catching her balance, she saw the woman jump off the branch and gracefully land on the cemetery ground.

She landed crouched. It was an eye-catching pose, but also one that would put unnecessary stress on her shins. She was showing off.

The stranger straightened up, met Mikasa's eyes, and raised an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna do this?" she asked,

Mikasa jumped down, landing on the balls of her feet.

"Fine," the woman grumbled. "Guess I can spare a few minutes."

Mikasa stiffened, one hand reaching toward her bag, and kept her eyes glued on her opponent. Said opponent put a hand on her hip and scoffed.

"Waiting for me to make the first move?" she asked. "I told you, I'm not looking for a fight tonight. You wanna do this, it's on you."

Mikasa grit her teeth, but complied. She lunged at her opponent's left, only to switch and throw a punch at the right side of her face at the last second.

The feint didn't matter. The woman just stepped backward, far swifter than Mikasa had expected - possibly, she faintly realized, faster than she could keep up with.

"Fast," she taunted, "but not the fastest."

Mikasa leaned forward and swung a leg out. Her foot clipped the side of the woman's leg, but she wasn't fast enough to keep her from dodging most of the blow with a clumsy jump.

She _ did_, however, get her face to morph into the lumpy, fanged, snarling visage of a vampire.

Mikasa drew back several steps, shrugged her bag off to dangle from the crook of her elbow, unzipped it, and pulled out her stake, all in no more than three seconds. As she did, the vampire paused.

"Oh, no," she said. "I'll let you know when I'm ready for a deathmatch, thanks."

This time, when Mikasa lunged forward, so did the vampire. Mikasa aimed for her chest, aim true and stake primed to plunge into her heart. But when the wooden tip was only centimeters away, the vampire shoved at Mikasa's shoulder while veering sharply to the side. Mikasa heard and felt her stake sinking into flesh, but knew without looking that she had missed the heart. She _ couldn't _look, for it was a blow driven by pure momentum, the force of the shove having lifted her off her feet and sent her flying. She could only be grateful that she didn't hit a gravestone when she slammed against the ground.

Her second time knocked off her feet in as many nights. Once again, her head began to ring, be it from the new impact or agitating what might have been a lingering concussion. The echo of pain emanating from her ankle was definitely leftover from the night before. This time, however, she didn't hesitate or allow either of them to overcome her. 

She scrambled to her feet as soon as physically possible. As she did so she heard the vampire indignantly mutter from several feet away, "aw, fuck. That shirt was a _ gift." _

The vampire. Vampires weren't strong enough to _ do that_; not the ones she would usually find wandering graveyards and stake on a patrol. That meant that this one had to be _ old_. Old and powerful, and too big of a threat to be left alone.

The sort of vampire that would have no problem picking off college students and hiding their bodies.

Mikasa got to her feet just in time to see the vampire yank her stake out from where it was wedged in her shoulder. She winced, but most of her attention seemed to be on her shirt - and the significantly sized bloodstain slowly spreading through it.

"When were you turned?" Mikasa demanded.

"About five or six years ago," the vampire mumbled. She didn't even bother looking at Mikasa, instead tugging at the edge of her shirt with the hand that was still gripping her stake while poking at it with her pointer finger.

For a few seconds, Mikasa could only stare at the vampire with wide, disbelieving eyes. When she found her voice, it was to sputter, "that's-"

"What can I say, some vampires are stronger than others." The vampire finally let go of her shirt and looked at Mikasa. Her face split into a shark-like grin, an action that was closely followed by a laugh. "Or maybe I'm just special."

The vampire tossed Mikasa the stake, which she caught on reflex. She didn't dare look away from her, but the sticky warmth coating the lower half of the stake told her what she would see if she looked. Blood, where if Mikasa had been a little better, or maybe just had a better idea of what she was dealing with, it would be covered in ash.

"I'm Ymir, by the way," the vampire remarked.

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "I didn't ask." If this vampire was as young as she said, then knowing her name probably wouldn't help anything. Not that it mattered. Even if she had to figure it out by herself, she didn't plan on this vampire being around for much longer. She couldn't be allowed to kill anyone else.

"Well, I wanted you to know," Ymir said. She took a step back and offered Mikasa a lazy wave. From the arm that _ wasn't _near the stake wound, Mikasa was almost pleased to note. "See you around, slayer. I'll let you know if I decide I want a deathmatch with you after all." The vampire began to turn around, only to pause and offer Mikasa one last mocking grin. "Oh, or the other one. It'd be rude not to keep both slayers in the loop."

With that, she turned around and ran. Mikasa took off after her, but was quickly outpaced. Before she knew it, Ymir had disappeared into the distance, leaving Mikasa standing at the edge of the graveyard with nothing to show but anger, frustration, and more questions than she could begin to know what to do with.

Annie was almost _ electric _ with anger. It wasn't quite enough to breach her composed surface, but she could feel it, pulsating just beneath her skin. 

Reiner was smart enough that he wavered at the look Annie gave him when he first told her what he'd done. However, that flash of fear hadn't lasted. Now that they were approaching the library, the bastard even had the gall to look entirely unrepentant. 

"They'll probably end up killed, now that you've dragged them into this," Annie whispered, thinking of the three dipshits Reiner had deemed worth dragging them into this situation. 

Reiner shrugged. "Eventually, maybe."

"So why did you save them?" 

"I like them," he said, like that answered everything. 

Annie shot him an annoyed look. 

"They're fun," he elaborated. "Or at least…" He gave a snort of laughter. "Connie and Sasha are fun; Jean's just entertaining in general. Even if something gets them later on, they're worth keeping around for a while longer." 

"Implying that you aren't going to 'get them'," Annie muttered. 

Reiner shrugged again. "Like I said, I like them."

Again, he said it like that was all that mattered. Maybe it was. Apparently, it didn't matter if someone was a good person, or if they had a good life ahead of them, or if there were people who would miss them. Whether someone's life was worth saving, or even just sparing from his killing spree, was determined solely by whether or not he _ liked them_. 

Annie stared at her companion for several long seconds before she broke and looked away. 

The rest of the walk to the library was spent in silence. 

They both hesitated when they reached the door. For the first time since breaking the news to her, Reiner looked doubtful.

Perhaps that, combined with her anger at him, was why she opened the door and strode in like she owned the place.

She immediately knew where she was supposed to go. From the entryway, she could just make out a motley assortment of people gathered around a table tucked into the corner. She had known to expect them, but that didn't make seeing them together any less strange. Sasha Braus and Connie Springer were there, both of whom she recognized from the art class Bertolt had encouraged her to try in an attempt to have some "fun" during the mission. Jean Kirstein also shared that course with her, although based on how much they bickered with each other, she doubted that he was actually friends with either of the buffoons. Finally, there was Erwin Smith. Her English professor.

The watcher.

Annie didn't let herself hesitate beyond the moment it took to spot the group. Perverse though it was, if she wanted to avoid being suspicious, she had to keep going. Reiner's footsteps, surprisingly quiet for those who didn't know his true nature, informed her that she wasn't the only one.

Good. If he was going to get her into this mess, the least he could do was help her see it through.

She could tell the exact moment that the watcher noticed her. It wasn't in how he straightened up or even how he looked her way; the other three all did something similar as she approached and she didn't see anything special in those reactions. Smith's tell was in how his eyes _ gleamed_, bright and warm, but with an unyielding sharpness hidden beneath.

That gleam told her that she would have to step carefully. That this man was _ dangerous_.

"Miss Leonhardt," he said, rising from his seat when she reached the table. "It is a pleasure to meet you properly." He extended his hand. Annie forced herself to reach out and shake it without hesitation.

"Likewise," she murmured.

"Your other friend wasn't able to make it?" he inquired. His eyes were bright with curiosity as he asked, but nothing more dangerous. Not that she could see, anyway. She could be wrong. Even if she _ wasn't_, simple curiosity was dangerous enough. One small misstep could see it turning into something more threatening.

"Bertolt takes online classes," Reiner said as he walked by, before she had a chance to say anything. "He works most of the time during the day. Kinda sucks, but it pays the bills." He pulled up a chair beside his pets and sat down in a leisurely sprawl, like this whole ruse was no real stress to him. She supposed she should be happy about it right now.

"I see," Smith said, shifting his gaze toward Reiner. "Well, I would love to meet him sometime."

Reiner shrugged. "We can probably make it happen."

Annie forced herself not to react, not to frown or glare or feel like Reiner was throwing Bertolt under a bus. He wasn't; they'd all trained for this. Even without the gem of amara, it would take more than one meeting with a watcher to figure Bertolt out.

Smith turned his attention back to Annie, reams of questions dancing in his eyes. However, another voice piped up before he could ask any of them.

"So, Annie's the - er, wait - a slayer?"

Annie frowned at Sasha. She wasn't the only one; Connie groaned while Jean shook his head and Reiner raised an eyebrow at her.

"I already told you that," Reiner pointed out.

"I _ know, _ " Sasha defended. "But it's one thing to hear it and another totally to see that it's actually Annie. Like, _ Annie Leonhardt _ Annie."

"Did you think it was a _ different _ Annie?" Connie asked.

"No, but like... we _ know _ her."

"We know Mikasa, too."

"We _ do _ ." Sasha leaned back in her chair, balancing it on its back two legs as she looked up at the ceiling and groaned. "God, this is so _ weird_. Demons are a thing and vampires are a thing and slayers are a thing and we know _ both of them _."

"I mean, it makes sense that Mikasa and Annie would be slayers," Connie said. He looked over at Annie as he added, "you're both kinda... intense. The same brand of intense, sorta."

"And you're both idiots," Jean grumbled.

Connie shot him a grin. "You're just upset that you have to share the secret with us and not Marco," he said.

Jean scowled. "Of course I am," he snapped. "Marco actually has a few brain cells to his name."

The conversation devolved into bickering from there. Annie tuned it out, instead keeping her gaze glued to Smith as she followed him back to the table and took a seat. He seemed fondly exasperated, like he was watching a group of bickering toddlers rather than the college students he apparently planned on teaching about the supernatural. But that was toward them. Toward her, he seemed not quite trusting, but not actively suspicious either.

Good. She hadn't managed to fuck it up within the first five minutes.

As Smith himself took a seat, Annie allowed her gaze to drift over to Reiner. He still looked perfectly comfortable, now with a bright grin adorning his face as he watched Jean and Connie bicker. Of course. Connie was fun and Jean was _ entertaining_.

Annie wanted to close her eyes, to let herself drift off and away from this place. But she couldn't do that. So instead, she did the next best thing - she changed the subject.

"Where's Mikasa?" she asked, looking back at Smith.

The watcher frowned. "I'm sure she'll be here soo-"

He was interrupted by the sound of the library door opening; the devil herself come to prove him right. Or maybe she was the angel in this metaphor. Annie certainly couldn't picture herself as anything _ but _ a devil, given the circumstances.

Mikasa looked exhausted. Not _ horrible, _ not quite, but close. Close enough that it had to be costing her. There were dark rings under her eyes and she was visibly favoring the foot that she had injured the night Annie saved her. Her eyes, while still bright with the sort of obsessive determination that drove someone to patrol even when they were at their limit, also flickered with shadows.

She wasn't alone.

"Armin," Annie called, part greeting, part observation. She didn't bother hiding the surprise that crept into her voice or keeping her eyes from widening. From what she'd seen, Mikasa was enough of a loner that she figured _ anyone _would be surprised to see her bring someone with her, especially with how insistent she seemed to be about slayers keeping their nature secret. Even if that someone already knew about her.

At least, those were her feelings. A quick glance around the table revealed that no one else seemed caught off guard - like they'd known to expect an extra person.

Annie narrowed her eyes at Reiner, who just shrugged.

"Armin," Annie returned, a slight smile touching his lips. "It's nice to see you."

"You know each other?" Smith asked.

"We study together," Armin said.

"Interesting." Smith cast a long look around the table, then turned his attention back to Armin. "Do you know Jean, Connie, and Sasha as well?"

"Yes," Armin said. "We've met. I think - I think everyone here knows each other in one way or another."

Smith nodded. "That'll make this easier, then."

Annie caught a hint of doubt flash across Mikasa's face as she walked past her to take a seat. One chair down from her, specifically. Armin sat down between them, probably prepared to play intermediary between two surly women.

Smart. Unfortunately, if the plan was going to be a success, she needed to get Mikasa to trust her enough that she didn't _ need _ an intermediary.

Mikasa barely spared Annie a glance. Her gaze was all but glued to Jean, Sasha, and Connie. "What has Erwin told you?" she asked.

"A _ lot_," Connie said, while Sasha let out a tiny groan and dropped her head back.

"He told us what the slayer is," Jean said. "A girl with super-strength, chosen by the ‘powers that be’ to defend humanity against vampires, demons, and the ‘forces of darkness’." Although his words were outwardly respectful, there was an unmissable hint of disdain, like he was still expecting to be told that this was all some big joke. It was annoying, but probably a better coping mechanism than breaking down outright. "Everything, basically," he finished.

"He can't have told you everything," Mikasa said, tone sharp. "There hasn't been enough time."

"Mikasa is correct," Smith said. He offered Jean a placating smile. "I'm afraid what I've told you so far are only the basics. It will take far longer to get you caught up completely."

Sasha let out another, louder groan while Connie gave a dismayed squawk. Jean frowned, but like Armin, Annie thought that she caught a flicker of interest on his face.

"For now," Smith continued, "I would like to get _ everyone _on the same page." Annie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the watcher turned his attention toward her. "Annie, am I correct in assuming that you have never had a watcher?"

"You are," Annie said.

"I see." As he spoke, there was a shift to the gleam in his eyes, something sharper than curiosity coming into play. Doubt. _ Suspicion. _She was going to have to step carefully now, and apparently, she was going to have to do it in front of everyone.

Fine. All the better to make them think that she had nothing to hide.

"If you don't mind me asking," Smith continued, "without a watcher, what made you suspect that you're the slayer?"

_ They were waiting for me to be called. _

"Things started coming after me," Annie said. "I've always taken martial arts, but I was suddenly a lot stronger. And they started calling me the slayer." She shrugged. "You can test me if you want. I'm the real deal."

"You seem very certain," Smith said, an unexpected hint of appreciation in his voice. "So your local demonic community told you that you're the slayer; how did you find out exactly what a slayer _ is _?"

"Google," Reiner said.

Smith paused, a frown creeping across his face. "Google," he repeated.

"Google," Reiner confirmed.

"It was the same for me," Mikasa interjected, a faintly pensive expression drifting across her face. "It wasn't easy to find, but the information's there. And once I found something that matched what was happening to me..."

"I tried looking stuff up last night!" Sasha piped up, grinning. "I didn’t get really far; 'vampires' was kinda broad, and demons, well..." Her grin faded into something caught between a frown and a grimace. "It gets _ weird _ on the internet," she summarized. "But I tried!"

"Congrats on your freaky porn," Connie remarked.

The effect was instantaneous. While Annie resisted the urged to roll her eyes, Jean scowled and scooted his chair away from Sasha, Armin turned red and looked down at his lap, Mikasa gave Sasha a look that was caught between disapproval and judgmental, and Reiner fell short of holding back a snicker.

"I didn't say it was porn!" Sasha cried.

"But you did say it was the _ internet_," Reiner pointed out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"We're getting off-topic," Smith patiently pointed out.

"Thank you," Annie muttered.

"Reiner," Smith began, "you said that you and your friend have been with Annie since the beginning?"

"Yeah," Reiner said, his expression drifting back into something more serious. "She came to us when she got her power-up and we helped her figure out what was happening. And after that..." He shrugged. "We weren't going to let her deal with that stuff _ alone. _"

Smith nodded slowly. "That's very brave of you," he murmured.

He said _ 'brave_', but a faint flicker in his eyes and something tucked into the cadence of his voice made her suspect that he meant something else, or at least that there was more to his feelings than what he expressed.

Annie frowned and tucked the observation aside to examine later, but opted to leave it alone for the time being. Whatever he was thinking, she didn't get the sense that it was dangerous to her. The watcher was free to think and feel whatever he wanted as long as it stayed that way.

"Now, I understand that this may be a difficult question to answer, but I'm afraid that I do need to ask." Smith paused for a moment, probably to make sure that they were all listening. _ Dramatic. " _Do you know when you were called?"

"About three years ago," Annie said.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Mikasa stiffen.

"Can you get a little more specific?" Smith asked.

_ Of course. I could tell you the exact day, if I wanted. _

"I think it was probably sometime in June," Annie said. "But that's the best I can do."

"And when you say three years ago, you mean June of 2018?"

"Yes."

They lapsed into silence, a thoughtful look descending over Smith's face. It didn't hold any sort of blatant warning signs. However, Annie was frustrated to find that she didn't have any idea what he was thinking beyond that. Each second that passed by without him saying anything felt like a nail scratching across her skin and trying to worm beneath. The difference was that no one would have blamed her if she had reacted to something like that, but she couldn't risk letting her impatience surface here.

The relief that washed over her when Smith started speaking again was almost physical.

"You're definitely experienced, but there are bound to be large gaps in your education," he said. He almost sounded more like he was musing to himself rather than speaking to anyone in the room. "We could all do with some backup as well." The watcher paused to give all of them a once-over. "I'm going to call a couple friends of mine and ask if they will join us."

"Watchers?" Mikasa asked. Her cool voice held a hint of unexpected tightness, and when Annie looked at her, she saw that her eyes had gone hard. Annie couldn't help but blink at the sight. Their previous interactions had left her with the impression that Mikasa was firmly in the council's pocket, just like a good slayer should be. But looking at her now...

"One of them is a watcher," Smith admitted. "The other is more along the lines of a free agent."

"But it would be the council sending them," Mikasa stressed, seemingly heedless of how Annie couldn't help but stare at her.

"No," Smith said. "If they come, it will be as a favor to me. Hanji often works independently from the council, and Levi..." He paused, a slight smile twitching across his lips. "Levi would be upset if he heard someone thinks he works _ with _ the council, let alone _ for _them."

Mikasa's frown was threatening to turn into a scowl. It was an understated shift of her features, but Annie was watching closely enough to catch it. Apparently, she wasn't the only one.

"But he'll work with you?" Armin asked, caution and curiosity intermingling in his voice.

"We have a history," Smith said.

Armin nodded. Then, carefully, he turned to Mikasa. "Some more experienced help would be a good thing right now," he gently pointed out. "Especially with recent events."

Mikasa hesitated for a moment. It ended with her turning her gaze to Annie. Consequently, the hesitation shifted over to her, not quite ready to believe what was happening. Mikasa Ackerman didn't strike her as a particularly considerate person; did she really want her opinion on the matter? Slayer or not, they barely knew each other. Her opinion should mean _ nothing _ to her.

Except apparently it didn't. When the silence dragged on for too long, Mikasa prompted, "Annie?"

Annie shrugged, doing her best to put on the disinterested look of someone who was barely affected. "I'm alright with it," she said.

Because it would be suspicious if she wasn't. She wasn't allowed to care that she, Bertolt, and Reiner would have to spend hours talking and planning before the newcomers even arrived. Maintaining the ruse took priority over things like comfort and rest.

Mikasa nodded. When she turned back to Smith, her gaze was still hard, but it was a different kind of hardness now. It was the stony glint of someone on a mission rather than someone with a grudge. "You should tell them about the disappearances," she said. "And that I think I know who's behind them."

Everyone, Smith included, startled at that, which gave Annie and Reiner the opportunity to shoot each other a short, bewildered glance.

"You do," Smith said, voice impressively composed for all of its urgency.

"A vampire named Ymir," Mikasa confirmed. "She calls herself the biggest fish in the pond, and she's - strong. Stronger than she should be."

Annie and Reiner gave each other another look - unreadable, for that was all they could afford right now. One that promised that they would talk about this later. Annie had no idea who this Ymir was, but by the sound of it, she might make for a good scapegoat - at least for a while.

She just had to make sure that Reiner didn't take Mikasa's suspicions as an excuse to do whatever he liked.

Smith's expression had turned into something grave by the time Annie looked back at him. "We should discuss this later," he said. She didn't need to know him well to know that his tone suggested that it would be a _ detailed _conversation.

"Fine," Mikasa said. With that, she glanced at her wristwatch - although _ glanced _ was a generous term for it. It was the very shortest of looks, just to confirm something that she already knew. Annie was struck by a sudden understanding; Ackerman hadn't been looking forward to this meeting, so she had arrived late when she knew that she would have to leave before long.

"I need to get going to history," Mikasa said, all but confirming her theory.

Smart, for a girl who wouldn't even take a night off to make sure that her exhaustion didn't get her killed.

Sasha groaned. "I don't suppose this is important enough to warrant a note?" she asked, shooting Smith a hopeful look.

The watcher smiled. "I'm afraid that you and Mister Springer should get going as well."

That got a groan from both of the dumbasses. Nonetheless, they began gathering their stuff together. Armin and Jean also murmured something and started getting ready to leave. Whatever they said, Annie didn't catch it. Her attention was on Mikasa, who was doing her level best to look like she wasn't dead on her feet. It was an imperfect performance, which only highlighted how bad it must be, for Annie was confident that she was practiced in putting on such acts.

She was probably planning on going patrolling again tonight. If she had gone out last night despite the state she'd been in when they met - which she must have, given her current condition - then this wouldn't be enough to stop her.

A look Smith shot Annie told her that she wasn't free to go quite yet. Of course not. The watcher had probably only just gotten started on the mountain of questions he had for them; she and Reiner were going to have to make good use of the backstories they'd fabricated. Even so, when Mikasa began to walk away ahead of everyone else, Annie met Smith's gaze and said, "I'll be right back."

She didn't wait for a response. Annie turned around and swept off after Mikasa; despite the height difference, she was able to catch up to other slayer in a few seconds.

"Let me patrol for you," Annie said, voice low but firm.

Mikasa stopped walking. "What?" she said.

"You're exhausted," Annie pointed out. "You'll get hurt again if you go out tonight."

Mikasa pursed her lips, whispers of pride and defensiveness playing across her features. Annie made sure to keep talking before any of them could override her common sense.

"Your grades have to be slipping too." She didn't pause, but the faint thrill of triumph that ran through her as Mikasa's features shifted ever so slightly made it easier for her to continue on. "That's an extra distraction. Rest, catch up on your assignments, and let me patrol for you for a few nights. Then you can be useful when you return."

Annie was making sense. She _ knew _ she was making sense - she'd spent much of the night thinking about and refining the offer, back when she'd assumed that the other slayer would have at least had the sense to take the previous night off. The deal was made that much sweeter by how much she had worn herself down. And yet, be it because of some heroic sense of dedication or just plain obsession, Mikasa hesitated.

"Two slayers are better than one, but there's no point if you keep pretending that you're the only one," Annie pointed out.

Mikasa sighed, shoulders drooping ever so slightly. It was at that instant that Annie knew she'd won.

"Alright," Mikasa acquiesced.

Annie nodded. "Alright."

With that, she walked back to the table and whatever quasi-interrogation Smith had planned for her.

Reiner shot her an approving look as she sat down. Annie tried to ignore it.

She failed, and her stomach twisted.

[museflight]

The Call (2)

Chapter Title: Teamwork

Wordcount: 4.7k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Notes: See end of fic.

Chapter Summary: Mikasa has a conversation with Annie, and Annie has a conversation of her own.

"The slayer," Mikasa repeated, disbelief flat on her tongue. She let go of the woman’s - Annie’s - hand and took a step back. "I'm the slayer."

"I thought you might be," the woman - Annie - said. "That's why I came here. I thought-"

"No," Mikasa cut her off, already shaking her head. "There's only one slayer at a time. You're..."

A lie. An imposter. Impossible. Mikasa took another step back, forcing her feet into a more solid stance despite the fresh wave of protest from her injured ankle.

"I'm telling the truth," Annie insisted. She drummed her fingers against her stake as she spoke, as if its mere presence somehow landed her words credence. "A new slayer is called when the old one dies. Normally that would mean that there's only one at a time, but..." Her lips pressed together. Now it was her turn to look suspicious. "I suppose I'm the one who should be asking questions," she finished.

"She's right," a voice said from behind her, soft, contemplative, maybe even a touch mournful.

She didn't need him to remind her of that. The thought was already dancing around within her, forming a lump in her throat and clawing at the backs of her eyes. Nonetheless, Eren whispered, "you died, Mikasa. Remember?"

Of course she did. The memory had been lapping at her heels for the past several days, relentlessly haunting her in those few moments that she laid down to sleep. It had been easy to brush it off as a combination of guilt and exhaustion. Now, however... Erwin had told her that slayer's dreams tended to be more meaningful than most. She had assumed that it didn't apply to memories, but as she stared Annie down, she wondered if she might have been drowning in her dreams for a reason.

Assuming that Annie was telling the truth.

"Who's your watcher?" Mikasa asked, not daring to drop from her stance or come any closer.

Annie blinked. "Watcher?"

"From the watcher's council," Mikasa pressed.

"Oh." Annie frowned. "I didn't... know that was a thing."

Mikasa pursed her lips. In theory, that probably shouldn't have boded well, but... Erwin had found her less than three months ago, even though she had been called years before that. Everything she knew about being the slayer prior to his arrival had been cobbled together from encounters with various demons after she was called. That much, there had been no denying.

The council was supposed to guide the slayer and help combat against the forces of darkness, but they had already failed once. What were the odds that the council would have found a second slayer when they had no idea that they were even looking for one? 

Had the council really been so incompetent that they left her to go through the same thing as her?

Mikasa's expression remained guarded and unreadable as she continued. Meanwhile, Annie was visibly trying to do the same, but she couldn't quite hide the whisper of anxiety making its way against her expression. Eventually, she broke and asked, "will your watcher help treat your injuries?"

He would if she went to him.

She didn't want to. That wasn't Annie's business though.

"Does it matter?" Mikasa asked. As she spoke, she went to shift her stance a little, her muscles growing stiff from being trapped in the same position for so long. That was a mistake. She was hit by a fresh wave of dizziness from her head and discomfort from her ankle, causing her to stumble a few centimeters. It was a very slight misstep, but Annie caught it, her lips dropping into a slight frown.

"You're dead meat out here in this state," Annie said. "If they won't, then let me help you."

Mikasa stiffened. She turned her head, almost imperceptibly - just enough to catch a glimpse of Eren lurking a few paces behind her. He hadn't been there to watch the vampire go for her, but he was here now. Did that mean that some part of her sensed that she was out of danger? Or had he showed up because the real threat had only just arrived? Even if she was a slayer, it didn't mean that she was to be trusted. It didn't mean-

"I don't know what you should do," Eren confessed, stepping forward and looking Mikasa in the eyes. The eye-contact was brief and promptly broken off by Mikasa. As she shifted her gaze back to Annie, she thought her peripheral vision caught the whisper of some expression flickering across his face. He continued on in spite of it. "But if she planned on hurting you, I think-"

He went silent as Annie spoke, seemingly finishing his line for him. "If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already." She paused, gaze intensifying as she looked Mikasa up and down. "I wouldn't have had to do anything. You've already taken care of that by going out in your state."

Mikasa bristled. She knew that Annie was right, painful to accept though it may be. That wasn't the thing that pushed against her nerves. It was that this woman - her apparent savior - felt the need to go ahead and point that out.

"So why did you?" Mikasa asked, voice short and clipped. "Why are you here?"

Annie answered immediately, her voice earnest despite the hint of discomfort. "Because we're both slayers," she said. "The only ones in the world, presumably." She gave a bitter smile and held her hands up placatingly, one thumb pressed down to keep her stake held in place. "I'm not saying we need to be friends, but our lives will probably be a whole lot easier if we help each other out."

It made sense. If there truly were two slayers, then in theory, they could bear to lighten their loads by half. Or do a whole lot more. But that would require both of those slayers staying alive. It made sense, and yet, Mikasa hesitated.

To her credit, Annie caught on quickly. She lowered her hands with a heavy sigh. "I'll answer any questions you have at my place," she said. "But not here, with you half dead."

Mikasa gritted her jaw.

At the edge of the vision, she saw Eren step up to stand beside her. "Mikasa, I know you're strong, but you're not invincible," he said. "You need help."

I know, she didn't say, even though she knew that she did, at least for tonight.

Instead, she unclenched her jaw, took a deep breath, and said, "fine."

***

The journey to Annie's house was silent. She didn't offer to help Mikasa walk, for which she was glad. It was already bad enough that she had noticeably slowed her pace to accommodate her limping.

"We're here," Annie murmured, coming to a halt in front of an unobtrusive little house placed on a street corner. A street corner that was only two blocks away from the cemetery. Mikasa frowned, unable to decide if the location was smart for its convenience or foolish for its risk. The frown deepened when, after a short walk up to the patio, Annie opened the door quickly and easily.

"You don't lock your door?" Mikasa questioned.

Annie shrugged. "No need."

Mikasa pursed her lips. Potential reasons for Annie's viewpoint flew through her head; she'd certainly considered them herself a few times. A slayer should be able to deal with any intruder. The odds of a home invasion were unlikely. If some thing truly wanted to get in, a mere lock wouldn't be enough to stop it. She had considered them many a time, wondered if she was just being paranoid.

Those considerations never changed her actions. She still kept her door locked, regardless of whether she was home or not. Even if it didn't stop whatever was trying to get in, it could slow them down. That was important. It was important to remember that every moment counted. It was important to remember that slayers were strong, but they weren't infallible, and with that strength came a target painted on their back.

It wasn't even just slayers. Normal people could stand to be a little safer too. Home invasions were rare in Paradis, but they did happen.

Not that Annie seemed to care.

She strode through the entryway, either unaware of Mikasa's displeasure or simply failing to care. As Mikasa bristled, the phantom that had followed them all of the way there stepped in ahead of her. "Give her a chance," Eren urged. "You haven't really met her yet."

What I've seen so far doesn't seem worth knowing, Mikasa thought. Nonetheless, she moved to follow Annie into the house, hesitating for a moment at the doorway, then walking right through Eren when he didn't get out of the way quickly enough.

It would probably be easier if she just let it slide. And yet...

"You should sti-" Mikasa's words evaporated as she followed Annie into the kitchen. There was a person in there. A tall man about their age, sitting slumped over at the island, reading a book. He looked comfortable. Not an intruder, no, he looked like-

The stranger looked up. "Annie," he called, eyes glittering with excitement that turned into concern as he noticed Mikasa. They met eyes, and Mikasa's confusion deepened. She'd seen this guy around before. Only a few times, and only at night. Quite frankly, she'd entertained the thought that he was a vampire last time she saw him. His general nervous and soft-spoken demeanor was what had made her second-guess her assessment. A good thing, she supposed, because that was looking very much impossible now. Assuming that she was right, assuming he actually-

The stranger turned his gaze back to Annie. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Bertolt, get the first aid kit," she said, a hint of a sigh in her voice.

The man - Bertolt - stood up with a nod and scurried out of the kitchen. Annie walked over to the island and set down her stake. Eren wandered over to lean against the stove, idly taking in his surroundings. Meanwhile, Mikasa just stood there and stared. This woman claimed to be a slayer, and yet...

"You live with someone?" Mikasa demanded, her voice suddenly returning to her.

"Of course," Annie said. "I couldn't afford to pay the rent myself."

"And does he-"

"-Know?" Annie interrupted. "Of course." She leaned against the island and crossed her arms, preemptively daring Mikasa to challenge her. "Bertolt and Reiner have been with me since I first got my powers."

Mikasa gaped. Meanwhile, Annie stared, not quite judgemental, but certainly assessing.

"Is your watcher the only one that knows about you?" Annie asked.

"No," Mikasa admitted. "But there were mitigating circumstances."

Annie raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that there weren't with me?"

Mikasa pursed her lips. "That's not the point," she said. The point was that she avoided living with anyone, even though it meant that she couldn't afford more than a tiny apartment. The point was that she took measures to make sure that no one was truly dragged into her world. The point was that she didn't dare let Armin close enough to truly consider him her friend - or for the rest of the world to notice. "What you're doing is dangerous."

"And striking off on your own isn't?" Annie countered. As she spoke, Bertolt returned, carefully placing the first aid kit on the island and nervously glancing between them. Annie didn't so much as pause. "There are benefits to having a team."

"Do they help you?" Mikasa asked. The idea was preposterous. Annie might have been a slayer, but her roommates certainly weren't. The very demons that she could go toe-to-toe with would turn them into mincemeat. "You're putting their lives at risk."

"Maybe sometimes," Bertolt piped up. He had migrated over to a corner and was leaning against a wall of cupboards, fidgeting awkwardly. "But she's also saved our lives plenty of times too. Maybe we can only help her a little, but that's still something. And, well, I'd rather know the truth and be able to do something about it." He paused, and something in his gaze seemed to harden. "Especially since if anything happens to her, it means that everyone will be a lot less safe."

"They have a point," Eren mused.

They might have. Mikasa's head was reeling too much to really think about it right now. She thought it was because of what they were saying, but judging from the myriad of concerned and alarmed looks she received in that instant, she supposed it may have been the head wound.

"Come here," Annie said, reaching for the first aid kit.

With a small sigh, Mikasa obliged.

Once she was within reach, Annie took Mikasa and guided her onto one of the stools surrounding the island. Her touch was gentle yet firm.

Mikasa watched out of the corner of her eye as Annie opened the first aid kit and opened a packet of antiseptic wipes. She was prepared for it, yet couldn't quite refrain from wincing when Annie took one of the wipes and carefully dabbed at her head wound. The blonde didn't apologize, but she did pause for a second before slowing down in her ministrations. Before long, the first wipe was bogged down with blood and she had to reach for another.

They sat in silence this way for several minutes, Annie tending to Mikasa's wound while Bertolt and Eren stood by, human and illusion both equally unobtrusive. It was shattered by Annie saying, "the person that knows about you. It's Armin, right?"

Mikasa went stiff as a board, the distrust and alarm bells that had begun to fade from her mind making a striking return. Annie noticed and took a cautious step back, which Mikasa took as an opportunity to give her a long look, searching for any sign of deceit. She hadn't mentioned Armin to Annie. She had been very careful not to mention Armin to her, not to anyone. How could she-

"Armin mentioned her earlier," Eren remarked.

At the same time, Annie said, "Armin and I study together. He's mentioned you a few times, and you don't seem like the type to have many friends. That's all."

"Oh." Slowly, the alarms in Mikasa's head began to fade. The surprise meant that they lingered to some degree, but now that she'd been reminded, she recalled that Armin had mentioned an Annie. It added up in that sense. Annie's own conclusion, while a little insulting, was also accurate. Mostly. "He's not a friend," Mikasa murmured, allowing her gaze to drift down toward the floor.

"Right," Annie said, the corner of her lips twitching upward. "Too dangerous."

Mikasa sighed. "Are we done here, or..."

That got Annie and Bertolt to pipe up at the same time. The latter started to say, "you're still really-" only to cut himself off when he realized that Annie was also speaking.

For her part, Annie sighed and allowed her gaze to drift upwards for a moment. It wasn't quite an eye roll, but Mikasa got the distinct sense that she was tempted. "No," she said. "Not yet."

With that, they lapsed into the same silence as before; at least for a little while. As Annie was setting aside the final wipe and reaching for a tube of antiseptic ointment, the room was shaken by the distinct sound of a door opening. Mikasa's attention snapped to the entryway, and within a way moments, a large blond man walked by

"Reiner," Eren murmured in the same instant that the newcomer paused and peered into the kitchen. His eyes met Mikasa's, and for the third time that night, she found herself surprised by a familiar face. He was the guy from her trigonometry class, the one who sat next to Annie and liked to pester her.

She supposed it made sense. Annie didn't seem like someone with a bunch of friends either.

The newcomer - Reiner, if Eren was to be trusted - took a step further into the entryway. Eyes still trained on Mikasa, he said, "you're-"

"Yes," Annie interrupted. Now that Reiner had shown himself, she seemed content to return her attention to what she was doing. She didn't even bother looking up from the bottle of ointment she was opening as she spoke.

Reiner nodded slowly. "Right. And she's-"

"Yes." Annie squeezed some of the antiseptic onto her fingertips and carefully dabbed it onto Mikasa's wound.

This new distraction made it easier for Mikasa to avoid wincing this time. "They know about me as well?" she demanded.

"Of course," Annie said, voice flat. "We help each other."

Mikasa frowned, but didn't press the subject. If Annie was completely sold on involving her cohorts, fine. There was a more important question at hand, a question that she'd let wait for too long. "How did you find out about me?"

"Demons talk," Annie said. "I got a lot of comments about how I'm impossible and the slayer is supposed to be in Paradis." She closed the tube of antiseptic, set it back in the first aid kit, and began rummaging for the bandages.

"This is impossible," Reiner said. He walked over to lean against the counter beside the oven - inadvertently taking a place beside Eren, who was eyeing him contemplatively. "Everything we found about slayers said there's only supposed to be one at once." He frowned and crossed his arms. "Granted, it wasn't much," he conceded, "but it all said that a new slayer is only called when the old one dies."

"I died," Mikasa said, voice empty, refusing to let herself feel what she was saying. There was no avoiding this. At least she could get it over with sooner rather than later. "The EMTs revived me. But for a few minutes, I was dead."

Reiner's frown deepened. He looked for all the world like he wanted to say something else, but Annie shot him a look, and the expression fell away. He sighed, and a sympathetic one took its place. "I'm sorry you went through that," he said.

"Thanks," Mikasa murmured.

"Well," Bertolt interjected, the anxiety clear in his voice, "it's good that you know about each other now, at least. Maybe you can work together?"

He was right. Mikasa knew he was right. Two slayers had to be better than one, and the logical thing would be for them to help each other. However, the thought of committing to working with this woman she'd just met still made her pause.

Thankfully, Annie spoke up before she had to. "Don't make any assumptions," she warned Bertolt. Even so, as she turned back around to face Mikasa, bandage in hand, she gave her a brief, hopeful look; a reminder of her earlier offer.

Mikasa sighed. "I'll think about it," she said.

"That's all we can ask," Bertolt said.

Annie didn't comment. She opened up the package of the large bandage she was holding and brushed Mikasa's hair out of the way before gingerly pressing its edges down around the cut on her temple. This, she noticed, was less uncomfortable than cleaning her wound or applying the ointment. It was almost soothing.

With her head wound taken care of, Annie returned to the first aid kit and pulled out a roll of beige adhesive gauze wrap. Mikasa took the cue to extend her injured leg. Annie crouched down before her and deftly removed her shoe. Mikasa frowned, but didn't comment, a little embarrassed that she hadn't thought to do it herself.

Compared to the near-hesitancy with which she'd dressed the wound on her head, Annie was surprisingly quick and effective at wrapping her ankle. "You're good at this," Mikasa remarked.

Reiner laughed. "She should be! Annie hurt herself all the time as a kid."

"Reiner," Annie warned, standing up and shooting him with a flat look.

This time, her attempt at intimidation didn't have much effect. "It's true."

Annie frowned, Reiner's grin widened, and Mikasa couldn't help but stare. It was odd seeing a slayer interact with someone like this. Someone she had a personal history with, someone she was friends with. It was dangerously tantalizing for all that it was foreign.

Mikasa pulled her gaze away. "I should get going," she said.

"Are you sure?" Bertolt asked, shooting a glance at her ankle. "Annie or I could drive you."

"I only live a few blocks away," Mikasa said. She was aware that it wasn't entirely true, that the distance was probably closer to a mile and a half from this distance, but she wasn't about to say that. "It's been long enough that I should be able to walk that far." This much was true. The walk would agitate her ankle a bit, sure, but the wrap would minimize additional damage, and what she incurred would likely heal while she slept.

Annie looked hesitant, but eventually nodded.

Taking that as her cue to go ahead and leave, Mikasa stood up and took a few steps, then paused just as she was about to leave the kitchen. It took a few seconds to get the words out, but she eventually managed, "thank you. I'll see you later."

She left before any of them could respond.

***

The household was quiet for several minutes after Mikasa's departure. They all lingered in the kitchen, staring at the doorway, as if the slayer might pop back up at any second.

Finally, Reiner tilted his head back and sighed. "She's gone." He shifted to peer at Bertolt, then Annie, the unspoken 'we can speak' in his gaze.

Annie frowned. "Are you so confident that your hearing is better than a slayer's stealth?" she asked.

"I'm confident that she doesn't seem like the type to stick around and eavesdrop," he said.

"She seemed... sincere," Bertolt said. Annie almost wanted to snort upon hearing it. The impulse faded completely with his next words. "It kinda sucks that we have to..."

"Kill her?" Reiner interjected.

Unlike Bertolt, Annie managed to refrain from frowning. Even so, Reiner gave both of them a long look before pointing out, "that's the job." His voice was light and cheerful, carrying all of the ease that she and Bertolt lacked, like he was talking about getting groceries rather than killing a slayer. It crawled under her skin and made her want to try and claw it out.

That wouldn't do anything. Instead, she went for the itch that she actually had reason to scratch.

"A job that you're making harder," Annie snapped. She stood up a little straighter and walked over to stand in front of Reiner. "You didn't need to kill Mina."

"I was hungry. I weighed down her body and dropped it in the rider, so it's not like we'll get any trouble from it," Reiner defended. "Besides..." He paused, his eyes meeting Annie's. The casual air he had been maintaining dropped into something far more grave and serious. "You seemed like you were getting attached."

Annie bristled. In that second, she was tempted to call Reiner out for hypocrisy. He was ten times more social than she was; if anyone might endanger the mission through attachments, it was probably him. The trouble was that it wouldn't work, because it wasn't true. Reiner was a soulless bastard who could probably turn on his so-called friends at the drop of a penny without any trouble at all.

Then again, maybe it was unfair of her to blame his behavior on his lack of a soul. Bertolt didn't have a soul either; no vampire did. Bertolt didn't put on the same friendly act as Reiner, but he still managed to be less impulsive and cruel at the end of the day.

Maybe Reiner was just an overconfident, hypocritical jackass by nature.

There was no point in calling out Reiner's hypocrisy, so Annie settled for glaring at him and saying, "I've told you plenty of times that I don't care about anyone here that much."

"I'm just being careful."

"No, you're making excuses to be greedy."

Bertolt stepped out of his corner, a flicker of worry on his face. "Guys, do we have to fight about this?" he asked.

Annie gave him a long, tired look, which quickly turned into one of agitation when Reiner held his hands up and said, "hey, I'm not the one who's fighting."

"I'm not fighting," Annie ground out, slowly turning her gaze back to Reiner. "I'm saying that you're being stupid. You want to hunt on campus? Fine. But if you keep killing people we interact with, people will get suspicious no matter how much time you spend in the sunlight."

"She's right," Bertolt tentatively interjected. Reiner shot him a frown, and he quickly amended, "I'm not saying that you're stupid. But we can't afford to take too many risks." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm already worried about how we're going to hide my nature from the slayer. Maybe we should have come up with some sort of story."

"Like what?" Annie asked.

"Maybe we could say that I was cursed with a soul or something?" Bertolt mused.

Reiner laughed. "A vampire with a soul? How lame is that."

"It's happened before," Bertolt protested. "Although, I'm not sure if I'd be able to pull it off. It's supposed to be pretty emotionally devastating..."

"It's still ridiculous." Reiner shook his head, then waved his hand - and the ring that adorned it. "If it comes down to it, I'll just let you borrow the gem. Make sure that she sees you in the sunlight a few times and you're set."

"You're lucky to have that thing," Annie grumbled.

"I am," Reiner acknowledged. He stood up a little straighter and gave her and Bertolt a serious look, clearly trying to play the role of inspiring leader. Fun. "But we're going to need more than luck to pull this off. We need the slayer to trust us, and I doubt she's going to make that easy."

"I think we're off to a good start," Bertolt said. "She seems pretty isolated, but Annie did a good job trying to convince her she'd be better off with a team."

Annie frowned, but didn't bother pointing out that Bertolt had done most of the work. Meanwhile, Reiner blinked in surprise.

"Annie? Talking up teamwork?" He let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. "I'd pay to see that."

"Then pay," Annie said. "What I want to know is why we didn't just take her by surprise. I could have taken her out tonight if we did that."

Oh, Annie knew fully well what Reiner's convoluted logic was. They had been over this several times before. That didn't mean she didn't see the benefit in making him run through it again, just on the off chance that he might change his mind about this whole charade. She couldn't say that she felt very bad about inconveniencing him with it either.

Alas, Reiner didn't seem particularly perturbed to repeat himself for what had to be the seventh time. If anything, he looked a little smug to hear his plan out loud once more.

"Slayers know to expect attacks from strangers," Reiner said. "Unless we're able to kill her immediately, the element of surprise wears off after the first attack. But if she trusts us first? Even if she survives the initial assault, that will slow her down for a while.

"Bertolt, you're right in that you'll need to be cautious. You can help when you get the opportunity, but until it's time to act, Annie and I will need to do most the of work. As long as she doesn't find out about the Gem of Amara, I can keep her from finding out that I'm a vampire; she'll have no reason not to trust me. And Annie. Even with the state she was in, she might have escaped if you tried to take her out tonight. But if you're able to get close to her first?" Something akin to appreciation flickered in Reiner's eyes as he paused, mingling with the excitement that was oozing off of him. She ignored how it made her stomach twinge. "You're a slayer. She won't stand a chance."

Annie allowed herself to think of the strong, cold, sad woman she met today. Of how she had seemed so convinced that she had to be alone, of the flicker of hope that had shown through the distrust.

"You're right," Annie admitted. "She won't."

*****

End Notes: Alright, so. Pre-emptively, I know that Reiner is pretty OOC in this chapter. He's my favorite character in the series, so believe me, I am Aware. They are in-story reasons for this, some of which are tied to Buffyverse vampire lore and some of which will be unveiled as the story progresses. Hopefully, the payoff will be worth it in the end, but for now, all I can do is ask you to trust me when I say that I have plans.

For now though, hold on tight. Erwin gets properly introduced to the story next chapter, as well as a few other characters.

[museflight]

The Call (1)

Chapter Title: Slayer

Wordcount: 4.1k

Ao3 Link: Click

Notes: Written for day one of @aot-au-week , since a Buffy AU very technically counts as a College AU, and because it's the least I owe @cookietonwrites for convincing them to take on another fic. As you can see, the idea quickly spiraled into a multi-chap, for which I am not even remotely apologetic.

Summary: There is only ever one slayer at a time; the chosen one, a girl strong enough to fight against the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness.

 Mikasa has accepted that for her, being the slayer means living a reclusive life, haunted by the image of the first person she failed to save and unable to ever truly let anyone in. However, everything is called into question with the arrival of Annie, a girl who claims to also be a slayer. Mikasa's life becomes much less solitary seemingly overnight, but friendship is followed by a deadly conspiracy, and with it, the threat of loss and heartache.

Mikasa's world consisted of a haze of blurred vision and the gentle buzzing in her ears. She blinked, and the figures on the paper before her solidified into numbers for a heartbeat before fading out once again. Trying it a few more times didn't yield any better results. It only made her aware of how much her eyes burned and how heavy her eyelids were. How heavy her entire head was. How easy it would be to just slip forward and… 

The buzzing reached a crescendo. A hand reached out to grab her shoulder. She jerked back upright to find Armin sitting across the table from her, one hand still extended and a worried expression on his face. 

Mikasa faltered. Words played at her lips, semi-contradictory things like 'it's fine' and 'what's wrong', but none of them felt right enough to actually be voiced. Instead, Armin was the one to break the silence. 

"When's the last time you slept?" he asked. 

Mikasa sighed. He must be really worried if he was cutting straight to the point like that. 

"Don't worry about it," she said, even though she knew it wouldn't work. 

Armin's frown deepened as a hint of disapproval trickled onto his features. He pitched his voice into a whisper to say, "you don't need to go out every night. You can't- you shouldn't be doing this alone."

"I do," Mikasa countered. "I'm the only one who can. You know that, Armin."

There was one girl in the whole world charged with keeping the forces of darkness at bay. She couldn't cast that duty aside just because she was tired.

It was with that thought that she realized that her gaze had begun to drift back toward the table. She snapped it back up as Armin asked, "does Erwin know how thin you're wearing yourself?" 

Mikasa pursed her lips. "Erwin's only been here for a few weeks. He'll get used to it."

"You shouldn't be used to it," Armin insisted, the softness of his voice warring with the rapidly mounting undercurrent of anxiety. He was still talking, too, about how Erwin wouldn't approve and she would be more productive if she wasn't dead on her feet. She didn't absorb any of the actual words, his voice fading back out into that gentle, incoherent buzzing.

Then there was a flicker of movement as something faded into sight in the corner of her vision, and everything Armin said became utterly doomed to sail right over her head.

Mikasa very determinedly did not look at the figure. She didn't turn her head and didn't allow her eyes to move in his direction beyond that first involuntary twitch. It didn't matter. He leaned forward, and she caught a glimpse of the green eyes peering out from what she knew would be a placid-yet-piercing expression.

"He's right, Mikasa," he said. "You need to take better care of yourself."

She allowed her eyes to flicker shut even though it did nothing to block out the man's voice. The voice of her own imagination.

"You've always been like this," he sighed. His voice had a whisper of warmth in it today, a touch of fondness tucked within what sounded like age-old resignation. "But you shouldn't. You're at your best when you have our friends with you."

Something flickered within her at the comment, although she was pleased to note that she managed to keep it within. There was no need to remind the hallucination that she didn't have any friends. Not even Armin, truly. Because for all that they were fond of each other, no amount of fondness could ever make up for-

"-kasa?"

It was the hint of iron intertwining itself with the worry in Armin's voice that got her to open her eyes. Mikasa forced herself to look at Armin and only Armin, who was leaning halfway across the table at this point.

"You really need to get some rest," he said. She moved to open her mouth, but he cut her off by asking, "you don't have trigonometry for five more hours, right?"

Mikasa nodded.

Armin gave one short, decisive nod, which appeared to be more for himself than anything. "You should take a nap, then."

The shift in her expression was subtle, just a faint downward turn to her lips, but apparently still enough for him to catch, because he quickly added, "you're going on patrolling again tonight, aren't you? Even a couple of hours would be better than nothing. I promised to meet up with Annie in a little while, but. I could walk you home?"

Mikasa didn't bother asking who Annie was, but she didn't protest either. She could see the logic in his argument, even if it felt painfully like a waste of time. "No, it's alright," she said. "I can walk myself."

Armin frowned. "Okay, but you will-"

"Go home and take a nap. Yes." She was already standing up as she finished agreeing. If she was going to keep her word, then it would be better to get it done sooner than later. The earlier she left, the sooner she could return. "I'll see you tomorrow," she promised.

With that, she turned around and left without taking another look at the boy who maybe, in another world, could have been her friend.

Or the distorted memory of Eren Jaeger.

*

Mikasa laid in her bed and closed her eyes.

*

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Cl-"

Coughing. Choking, sputtering, straining, a strain in her chest that turned into an ache resonating throughout her entire body. A pain worse than anything she had ever felt in her fourteen years.

Shouting. Rushing. Urgent voices talking rapidly. Not to her, with her aching body and spinning vision, but to each other. White coats and flashing lights. They were talking, talking, and there was something she had to say, something more important than the flashing lights or the unreal pain or the whisper of strength that shouldn't be there. There was something, someone, she had to ask about-

Her voice cut off in a hoarse croak when she tried to speak. Her throat stung, like it had been worn ragged by- by-

Salt.

Memories flashed by her in a dreadful kaleidoscope. The parents. The men. The boy. The other man, the one they'd thought would help. The sea - he'd thrown them in the sea, her and-

A jolt of energy. Mikasa forced herself upright and grabbed the wrist of the first person she saw. Surprise was on his face. Surprise and discomfort; her grip was stronger than it should have been. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was-

"Eren," she croaked.

"Eren." The white-coated man's voice was softer than she needed it to be. Focused on her. He needed to be focused on not her. "Is that your name? Eren?"

Through parched lips and a throat like sandpaper, she croaked out, "where's Eren?"

The man gave her a long, sad look. No. No. He shouldn't be looking at her like that.

"He saved me," Mikasa pressed. "Then he- the-" monster “- we went in the water together."

One faltering moment that lasted for an eternity.

The man redirected with talk about her. What's her name, can she describe what she's feeling, she's okay, it'll all be okay - it didn't matter. It didn't matter and it wouldn't be okay. It didn't matter, because in that moment, he didn't need to answer.

His expression spoke only of death.

*

She woke up feeling more awake, but just as tired as she had been before.

*

Mikasa didn't even try to pay attention during trigonometry. The nap may have refreshed her to some degree, but not enough for that. Besides, she still had a solid C. Spending class zoned out was... admittedly detrimental, considering that she had been in a similar state for her last two classes, but not so devastating that she wouldn't be able to recover from it. She would just have to cram as hard as she could once she had the opportunity to spend a few nights on her classwork. It wasn't a pleasant routine, but it had gotten her through her first two semesters of college. She could make it work for this one as well.

Besides, she had more important things to spend her brainpower on.

A girl had been marked absent during roll call. Mina Carolina. A single absence was not unusual in and of itself, but although Mikasa couldn't claim to know Mina well, she had not seen the girl take a day off before. That didn't mean that she couldn't - she could be well and truly sick, or an emergency could have popped up. People took days off all the time, even those who normally didn't.

The trouble was that there had been a marked increase in people turning up absent lately. Most of them never returned. There were no bodies found or hints as to their whereabouts. They were simply never seen again.

Mikasa didn't want to feel a sense of distant mourning. She wanted to hope that Mina would show up at their next class with some excuse for the teacher about how she can sick or had to deal with an unignorable situation. However, that same part of her had also wanted to hold out hope for Franz and Hannah when they disappeared from her American Literature class, and now they were nothing but faces on missing posters.

The semester had only been in swing for a month and a half. Mina would be the third victim person she had shared a class with. Not third overall - just that she had shared a class with specifically. When she scaled the radius up to encompass the entire campus, she would be the fifth disappearance.

According to Erwin, Paradis' level of supernatural activity was on the low side of average. She suspected that that was the reason he had been hinting that they should relocate. He felt that she was wasted here, and as her Watcher, he wasn't comfortable doing nothing about it, no matter how new to his position or unwelcome he was. And truthfully, five people disappearing off of a college campus during the first semester and a half wasn't unusual. College was stressful. She didn't know the details regarding two of the disappearances, and even with the couple who had seemingly disappeared off the face of the like, a human culprit was just as likely as a demonic one, if not moreso.

So why was she so certain that Mina Carolina had met her death at some point since she had last seen her?

Why did she feel like she had failed to stop it?

Once the feelings of dread and guilt grew strong enough for her to be actively aware of them, Mikasa decided to redirect her attention to the students who were there. 

Armin probably would have been one of her classmates if she hadn't insisted that he not take any classes that run past sunset and directed him to the morning trigonometry course instead. However, it wouldn't have been a large class even with him and Mina. 

Four of the students scattered across the room were unknown to Mikasa. However, her seat near the back of the room allowed her to keep an eye on them with relative ease. That, in turn, allowed her to be fairly comfortable in her assessment that they were normal human students. 

She could say the same of her four other classmates as well. They, however, were a little higher on her radar. 

Closest to her, his desk seated directly in the last few rays of evening sunlight, was a muscular blond man. Mikasa thought that his name began with an 'R', but didn't know much else about him. He'd caught her attention with a loud, outgoing personality and general demeanor that made him seem like an odd fit for the class. At the moment, it looked like he wasn't paying much more attention than Mikasa herself, fiddling with the ring on his left hand and only occasionally glancing up at the teacher. 

The blonde next to him was as much of a stranger, but she at least looked like she was focusing. She had gained Mikasa's attention by joining a week after classes had started. Since then, however, she had proven quiet and distant, only interacting with her classmates when she glared at the man next to her for trying to talk to her while she was working.    

Jean Kirstein, meanwhile, clearly didn't want to be a stranger. Over the past year, he had made a few attempts to reach out that she could admit were enduring. If she didn't have her duty, he might be someone she could consider a friend. As it was, she couldn't bring herself to do anything but brush him off, for his own sake. He didn't pay her much attention in class though. That wasn’t to say that he was completely focused, even though he had claimed a seat at the front of the class. She often glimpsed him speaking to the student next to him. There’d also been enough instances when she’d heard a frustrated comment from him regarding the course for her to get the sense that trigonometry wasn't particularly easy for him. However, she also suspected that he was hardworking and dedicated enough to make up for it.

The student next to him was Marco Bott. Cheerful and painfully earnest, he was honestly mostly notable to Mikasa because he was Jean's friend. He seemed like a good person though. That meant he was a reminder of why Mikasa couldn't let Jean become her friend no matter how hard he tried or let herself rest no matter how much Armin tried to insist. If she faltered, if she slowed, there would be consequences.

Mina used to sit behind Jean and Marco.

The sound of chairs being pushed back and writing implements being put away drew Mikasa out of her stupor. Rather than look at the clock, she glanced out the window.

The sun had already begun to set.

She quickly stuffed her textbook, pencil case, and notebook in her bag, feeling only a brief pang of guilt for the blank sheet of paper that stared back at her. The items landed haphazardly, and she knew that if she looked, they would likely only partly obscure the stake, crossbow, and knife that laid carefully arranged at the bottom. She zipped it shut before anyone could get curious and try to sneak a peek; a reflex even though she knew that no one would be bold enough to try that with her.

Despite being the last one to start getting packed, she was the first one out of class. Just like she always was. From there, it didn’t take long to get off the campus.

The first two blocks of Mikasa's walk went like she was heading home. It was as she reached the third - the one that would have lead back to her apartment - that she took a sharp right. From there it was four blocks straight on, then one block to the left. A simple route, but one that had come to haunt her nightmares.

Dusk had descended on the cemetery by the time she reached it.

Logically, she knew that she wasn't likely to run into anything for several more hours.

Instinctively, she knew that Mina Carolina wasn't likely to return to class.

This wasn't a night to take risks.

Mikasa wandered deeper into the graveyard, where she was less likely to be spotted by any passerby, and pulled out her stake. There, she began to wander.

It wasn't a small cemetery by any means. That was what made it the ideal hive for demonic activity. Not only were cemeteries where the majority of newly turned vampires rose, but large ones were also rife with additional dead bodies and crypts. This one was even separated into several different sections, which made it easy to get lost.

Getting lost made it easy to watch the time slip by.

A couple of hours into her patrol, a familiar figure flickered into existence at the edges of her vision. She didn't say anything to him, and he followed her silently, gaze occasionally flickering to one side or another as he took in the graveyard. As if he might notice anything before she did. Technically speaking, she supposed that he might. He had "caught" things a few times in the past, when she was subconsciously aware of something but hadn't been fast enough to process it with her conscious mind. It was the only thing that made sense, for all that she desperately wished that it wasn't.

A slayer whose hallucination needed to point things out for her couldn't mean anything good for the world.

She forced herself to look away from the figment and focus on her surroundings.

Not five minutes later, the sound of shifting earth caught her attention. Mikasa turned and strode toward it, her grip on her stake tightening and her gaze fixed straight ahead. Within seconds, she had spotted it; a grave with the earth beneath it stirring. As she watched, a hand punched up and out of it, grasping desperately at the ground. The head came next - an unfamiliar man, his face distorted by lumps across his forehead and nose, slitted yellow eyes, and fangs. The visage of a vampire prepared for predation. It glared at her as it struggled and snarled, eventually freeing its other arm. Once that was done, it had a much easier time dragging itself to the surface.

It never got the chance to free itself fully. The second its chest was completely exposed, Mikasa sprang into action. She grabbed the thing by the lapels of its dirt-stained tuxedo and dragged it upward. Fear flicked across its face, causing the predatory features to fall away and leaving a normal face behind. A face that could have been human if she didn't know better. She didn't allow herself to look closely.

In a blink, she had rammed her stake through the vampire's chest and into its heart. It dissolved into dust a few seconds later. Mikasa stood and watched the flecks flutter back down to earth.

She was drawn out of her reverie by a firm, "you shouldn't be patrolling tonight."

Mikasa grit her jaw. "I already rested," she pointed out.

"It isn't enough. You've been exhausting yourself, one little nap isn't going to make up for that."

"You just saw me kill a vampire."

"Yeah, and it took way more out of you than it normally would."

Mikasa whirled around to face the figment. Something in her chest threatened to hitch as she allowed herself to look directly at him, just as it so often did, even years after he first manifested.

The thing before her almost could have been a ghost. It wasn't though; god knew she had done enough research on the subject. Ghosts, when they visibly manifested at all, took the appearance they wore at their time of death or at another point in their life.

Eren Jaeger had been fourteen when he died. Even if he responded to the same name, this grown man with distant, unreadable eyes couldn't be him.

He wasn't anything. She'd run all of the tests as she learned more about the Supernatural. She wasn't haunted, there weren't hints of a demonic presence lingering around her - there was nowhere he could have come from other than her own mind.

He was nothing but a manifestation of her guilty conscience. She had come to terms with that years ago, yet she was still wasting time arguing with him.

At that instant, it was suddenly very tempting to look away. However, she forced her gaze to remain steady as she coldly said, "leave."

The figment blinked. "Mikasa-"

"No," she interrupted.

Something flickered in the illusion's eyes. It was difficult to identify, caught behind that distorting wall that so often covered his emotions, and she didn't even bother to try. He opened his mouth again, but she didn't let him get another word in.

"I'm not willing to put up with you tonight," she said. "Get out."

His expression finally came together into something real and visible. Alarm. "Mikasa, move!"

Mikasa lunged to the side just in time to avoid being grabbed by the shoulder.

She spun around to find a burly vampire standing over the ashes of the one she'd just killed. He was musclebound and bulky enough that he might be somewhat difficult to face in hand-to-hand combat - but not so much as to stand a real chance against her. "Slayer," he snarled. "I am going to grind you into dust."

Mikasa didn't bother responding. He lunged forward and she spun to the side, ducking beneath his flailing fist to get behind him. As she moved, she noticed that Eren had disappeared. Good. She sprang forward, stake in hand, only for the vampire to swing back around at the last moment and grab her wrist. He squeezed, a horrible grin on his face, and she had to fight to keep from automatically releasing her grip on her stake.

As the vampire leaned forward, she twisted to punch him in the sternum with her free hand. It only made him falter for a moment, but it was enough for her to wrench her wrist out of his grasp. It was also enough for her to come to a terrible realization.

Her blows weren't as hard as they usually were and she was moving slowly.

Eren was right.

There wasn't any time to ruminate on that. The vampire lunged forward, and Mikasa dove to the side again. She leaned into the momentum and swung her leg out to land a kick to the vampire’s side. He stumbled, a curse on his lips.

It didn't bring her any sense of victory, for as she brought her foot down, it landed on uneven ground. Not observant enough.

Pain shot up her ankle and the world began to tilt.

Eren still wasn't anywhere to be seen. Funny. If her mind was going to conjure up even a distorted version of Eren Jaeger, she would have expected it to happen when she died. She had thought that he would watch.

Mikasa hit the ground, the side of her head slamming hard against a flat gravestone. The world continued to spin around the sound of the vampire chuckling. She clenched the hand holding her stake, only to find that it must have fallen out of her grasp during the fall.

She forced herself to sit up, hands pushing hard against the ground to make up for the way the world was spinning around her. When she looked up, the vampire was glaring down at her. She tried to stand up, to scurry back, but her ankle gave out when she tried to bear weight on it. A sprain - just a sprain - nothing that wouldn't heal in a couple of days with her abilities, but even a sprain couldn't bear weight immediately. The vampire was saying something now, but she couldn't make out the words, couldn't hear anything past the buzzing in her head, couldn't feel anything but the sensation of warm blood oozing from the cut in her head.

The vampire was reaching for her.

She hadn't wanted to take a risk, and because of that, she was going to die tonight. And Eren wasn't even there to see it.

Maybe that was fitting. She hadn't witnessed his final moments either. Maybe he wanted her to die alone as well.

The vampire's hand closed around her neck. She forced herself to look up, to at least look her death in the eyes-

- and the vampire exploded into dust. In his wake stood the blonde girl from her trigonometry class, stake in hand and gaze locked on Mikasa.

The girl said something. Mikasa blinked, hearing her words, but unable to process them. The girl frowned, and Mikasa grit her teeth, just to give herself another sensation to focus on.

"Repeat that," Mikasa ordered.

The girl extended a hand. "I asked how badly injured you are," she said.

Mikasa ignored the hand and moved to force herself to her feet. Her injured ankle protested once again, but she bore the majority of her weight on her other leg and managed to get upright. "I can handle it," she said. "Who are you?"

The girl didn't seem at all off-put by Mikasa's blunt question. If anything, she seemed like she expected it. "Annie Leonhart," she said.

She paused for a moment. It did nothing to prepare Mikasa for her next, impossible words.

"I'm the slayer."

*

Weeks later, armed with only an axe, her memories, and the desperate research of a lonely girl scared she was losing her mind, Mikasa went hunting.

She found the one who had snatched them from the bodies of the original monsters and tossed them into the ocean.

She took his head, and he turned to ash at her feet.

[museflight]

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Wordcount: 1.1k

Ao3 Link: Click

Summary: After the war, Ymir meets Historia’s child.

Notes: Written for day four of @aot-au-week , the prompt being royalty au. I used it as an excuse to write a Ymir lives AU, since it technically counts. I didn’t bother getting into background and stuff for this one, but it could be read as taking place in the same universe as Mark of Divergence. Also, no beta for this one! I wrote it in under an hour and you get what you get.

Ymir gazed down at the infant swaddled in her arms and didn't know how to feel.

It was - it was a baby. It was small, wrinkly, and resembled a human being about as much as your average titan did. (Had.) Society dictated that it was cute, but truth be told, babies all tended to be pretty damn ugly when they were this young. This one was no exception.

It was also royalty. That part was pretty important.

The Cult of Ymir had made being royalty out to be this wonderful thing. Enchanting, mythical, untouchable - holy.

Of course they had; she was supposed to be the reincarnation of a goddess. And although she may have been a fraud, making no real decisions and good for nothing but taking the blame, her people didn't know that. So they draped her in jewels and acted as if she was above them all, and for a while, it had been enough to make her forget that it was all a lie.

(After learning about Ymir, the real Ymir, she couldn't help but wonder at how that little nameless, powerless peasant girl, draped in jewels and falsely called a goddess, was closer to the truth than any of them had ever realized.)

Real royalty was more complicated. It was political machinations and coached reactions and meaningless public appearances that caught the crowd's eye while the actual important meetings went hushed and unnoticed by the common person. It was complicated and full of secrecy and deceit and left no room for anyone to be truly selfless.

So of course, Historia was great at it.

Or at least, that had been the case until more of those selfish, scheming politicians appeared. They had a new song and dance, but it was all the same old tune - they wanted Historia to inherit a titan and push out as many royal babies as she could until thirteen years passed and she died. And Historia, for all that she was no longer the false martyr that had been Krista Lenz, couldn't find a way to say no. And Ymir... maybe she had grown too complicit in her two years of almost-peace as nearly-real-royalty, because for all of her rage, because she couldn't find a better escape plan than the one proposed by the genocidal bastard who went on to destroy eighty percent of the world.

And she hated herself for it.

(Ymir also hated herself for leaving Historia behind when she needed her most, even if she had a pretty damn good reason. She hated that the feeling of watching her squat, ugly titan change and learning that it could fucking fly was tainted by the near-certainty that these were her final days. Most of all, she hated that that genocidal bastard was the reason that she was able to go home in the first place; why she would be able to stay for longer than one more year.)

Ymir hated a lot of the things that had happened recently.

But as she stared down at the baby that, in a better world, wouldn't exist, she found that she couldn't hate it.

Ymir narrowed her eyes. The baby squirmed, as if it could sense her eyes boring into it, only to let out a tiny sneeze. It then let out a contented burble and settled comfortably back into her arms, as if she were someone safe and reliable rather than actively judging and questioning its entire existence.

Smug little thing, she thought.

Out loud, she asked, "what are you calling it?"

"Ymir."

Ymir sighed. "Fine," she said as she turned around to face Historia, who sat cross-legged on her bed, watching them. "What are you calling her."

Historia grinned. "Ymir."

Ymir froze. She slowly looked back down at the tiny thing in her arms, at her rolls of pudge, the tiny dimple on one of her cheeks, at the little wisps of blonde hair. She really looked nothing like her. Except apparently... "No," she murmured, like the beacon of elegance and grace she was. Then, for emphasis, "no."

She glanced back up. Historia was grinning like she'd done something to be proud of, rather than blight the world with a third Ymir.

"Historia..." There was a horrible tangle in her chest, making it hard to know what to think or feel. After half a second of choked silence - which was, frankly, half a second too much - she managed, "this is a horrible idea. Besides, you don't need two Ymirs."

Historia's smile faltered. "Maybe not," she admitted. "But..." Something flickered in her gaze. Her eyes began to wander away, falling back into old habits, before she caught herself and looked at Ymir with eyes that widened into something unshakable. It was startlingly attractive, considering the circumstances. "I thought it was appropriate, since I didn't think there would be two Ymirs for very long. If you came back at all."

Oh.

All of the air left Ymir's chest. Without thinking about it, she marginally tightened her grip on the baby. It - she - tiny Ymir - nuzzled closer to her chest and let out a little croon.

She was right. There wouldn't - shouldn't - have been two Ymirs around for very long at all. Certainly not long enough for the third to remember the second. It hadn't even been very likely that she would survive to return to the island. And yet...

"Well, that's stupid," she choked out. "I always come back."

Historia's face softened fractionally. Not completely - that kind of fear and heartache took a while to disappear completely, especially when it had just happened for the second time - but enough to tell her that it wouldn't be there forever. "You do," she said.

Ymir made her way to the bed. Getting on it without jostling the baby took a little doing, but she'd managed far more difficult feats within just the past week. She sat down next to her girlfriend - partner - reason for being - wife, once she'd worn those politicians down enough - and carefully transferred the baby into her arms. As Historia took her, Ymir pressed a kiss against her temple and whispered, "you can still change the name. People might think you named her after the founder."

Historia huffed out a tiny laugh and tilted her head to press her lips against hers. They were soft and tasted faintly of grapes, and in that moment, Ymir became painfully aware of how scared she'd been that she'd never get to feel this again, baby or not.

Drawing back half an inch, Historia whispered, "I doubt anyone will think that."

Ymir huffed and allowed herself to slump over and press her face against Historia's shoulder. "At least this one will never turn into a titan," she murmured.

There was a pause. Then, in a soft, wonder-filled voice, Historia murmured, "you're right. She won't."

Ymir smiled, softer than she would allow anyone to see, and thought that maybe she could get used to having a namesake.

Maybe she could even get used to being a mother.

[museflight]

Mark of Divergence

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Wordcount: 4.8k

Ao3 Link: Click

Summary: As the alliance sits around the bonfire, Bertolt reminisces on how they ended up there - and worries about what a particular person will do going forward.

Notes: Soulmark colors do have meaning for this au. If you’re curious and don’t want to puzzle it out yourself, feel free to check out this post for reference. This fic was written for day 3 (and lowkey day 2) of @aot-au-week! It is dedicated to @elderkale and @cookietonwrites, with thanks to Celadon for betaing!

Bertolt can't help but be unnerved by soulmarks.

It isn't the concept itself that makes him uncomfortable. The thought that people can fit together so well that they are intrinsically tied is kinda sweet. (Except for the occasions when it isn't.) It's the power that they hold - the way they influence people by spelling certain bonds out for those who might otherwise take too long to realize them. And, as he sits by the bonfire, eyeing the alliance that has formed to stop the man once deemed humanity's best hope, the effects are almost visible.

A soulmark is what made Ymir decide to turn back.

*

For a moment, it looked like she had given up, but when she looked at the rose-gold crown at the back of her hand, something changed. Bertolt would never pretend to know what goes on in Ymir's mind at any given moment, but if he had to guess, it reminded her that even if she feels weighed down by her cosmic debt, she still has something to live for.

...He can understand why she came close to forgetting in the first place. For a long time, he had assumed that the crown had been her only mark. Then at Shiganshina, they received a brutal reminder of what they were up against when, despite everything, they were nearly wiped out at the hands of Zeke, Pieck, and a furiously powerless Porco, with just a handful of Marleyan soldiers and artillery and their disposal. Scouts died, and Bertolt supposed he was selfish in that, for all that their trust in him was still highly tenuous at best, he was grateful that none of his former classmates were among them. But he was. He was grateful even though scouts still died and Commander Erwin himself was so badly injured that he had to retire.

Ymir wasn't there though. She was back within Wall Sina, the soulmate of the queen. She acted unbothered, but he could see the shadows of guilt behind her eyes when he saw her next. He wonders if that is why their pointless conversation had somehow evolved into her confessing that she had many more marks, across her shoulders and chest, but they were hard to see, having faded into the light silver of ghost marks more than sixty years ago.

Now, he wonders which has had more influence on her being there with them; the rose-gold crown on her hand, or the silver scars cast across her chest.

*

Soulmarks made it easier to convince Reiner to go with him when he suggested that they surrender.

*

They were supposed to be loyal to Marley. They weren't supposed to care about the island devils. Yet Reiner was all but riddled with marks that matched theirs, and Bertolt... Bertolt didn't want to see anyone else die. He didn't want anyone else to die and he himself wanted to live. In those moments, he realized that he held a painful, desperate desire to live, and even with his true identity known, he knew that he had a better shot with the “devils” of Paradis than the "heroes" of Marley. So he'd tried to persuade Reiner, and the marks burning his skin like a brand meant that it wasn't very hard.

He doesn't think Reiner has ever truly forgiven him for convincing him, the knowledge of what his betrayal would have meant for his family hanging over his head with every waking moment. But that's fine. After all, Bertolt never apologized.

...He used to wonder why he doesn’t share any sort of soulmark with Reiner. He had hoped that he might turn out to share one with Annie, but when he found out about the bright red crystal she shares with Armin, he realized that it had been hopeless all along. Reiner hadn't been like that though. Where Annie kept her marks close to her chest, Reiner willingly shared his, so Bertolt knew that they didn't share a mark and was perplexed as to why.

It became more apparent after their uneasy return to the scouts. Their identities being known made Bertolt more aware of his own than ever, but not having to keep that secret anymore also had some effect. Getting to live, even if only because they were more useful alive than dead at first, had an effect. The newly-installed queen ordering them to repay their debts to society by serving the scouts for the rest of their short lives had an effect. Bertolt had straightened his shoulders, bore the looks, and found reasons to continue on. Reiner was a different story.

Bertolt had been moving forward with the painful understanding that even if they lived, Reiner would have suffocated under the weight of his guilt if they went back to Marley. What he didn't expect was that it would come for him anyway. The difference was that his surroundings reminded him of what he had done rather than his guilt-ridden memories, and the fate of his family became a new weight on his conscience. For a long time, Bertolt would catch him shooting glances at the golden footprint on his arm, his confusion over it still being there fading into sick understanding as the weeks slipped by.

Where Bertolt found a new will to live, Reiner's death wish began to dog him like a second shadow. He never vocalized it, but he didn't need to. It became more and more apparent as the days passed, with the way he just took any harsh word said to him and the way reckless, sacrificial moves started to add up. Everyone knew by the time Historia was crowned queen. Bertolt wanted to help, but he didn't know how. He had already struggled to handle Reiner's split personality, but this was something new and awful. He knew, logically, what was happening. Yet he couldn't understand. There was a part of him that just couldn't parse how or why they had reacted so differently, why Reiner was struggling so much when, based just on how much he had come to care for the others, switching sides should have helped him most.

It was then that Bertolt realized why he and Reiner didn't share a soulmark. They were and still are friends and comrades, but their relationship is and always has been one of circumstance. In another lifetime, a kinder lifetime, their paths never would have passed. They were friends and comrades who never would have meant anything to each other if left to their own devices.

Bertolt was not the one to prevent Reiner from handing himself over to oblivion at the first opportunity. Instead, he was saved by the people he did share marks with, the ones he had come to care about so much that it had torn his mind in half in the first place. Historia - blue bandage - who even though they didn't talk much, remained unwavering in her order that he not be executed. Connie - purple tooth - who managed to be shockingly understanding, his own losses making it easier for him to understand the reasons for the betrayal. Jean - violet sword - full of pain and rage for the silver wings of freedom emblazoned on his shoulder blade, who had eventually cornered Reiner and furiously declared that he wasn't allowed to die after what he did; it was an easy escape that did nothing to make up for what he'd done. Even Eren - golden clasped hands - and the debt he seemed to think he owed him.

...Reiner had been the first one to realize that something was very wrong with Eren. Now, Bertolt wonders if things might have gone differently if they had listened.

*

Soulmarks make Eren's current course of action that much more inconceivable.

(How easy it can be to forget. For all of the people who alter their course of action because of one soulmark or another, there are always those who don't.)

Not all of them feel the unique weight of Eren's turn, of course. To those (still) aligned with the warrior unit, Eren is just an enemy of humanity.

(They do not see what they see. While he is just a devil to them, those who knew Eren before see a friend who has wandered so far down a terrible path that he has become near unrecognizable. They do not know that it is as heartbreaking as it is terrifying. They do not know how it stings like a betrayal even though he claims to have his reasons. It makes Bertolt wonder - if this is how they all felt, back then?)

Magath and Pieck are more focused on keeping an eye on Porco, on the risk that his vengeful rage toward Ymir and Reiner does not boil over in a way that may risk their tentative alliance.

In a way, that particular microcosm of tension is almost a relief. It is not pleasant, but the way the old hurt and anger of the Galliard brothers threatens to reach across the groups helps distract at least some of them. Reiner frets and flutters, always keeping some degree of distance between himself and everyone else, while the people he never expected to actually give him a second chance shoot him concerned looks. Ymir is similarly distanced from everyone, although it is with the ease of someone who has not spent any significant time with them in over a year. She garners less worried looks from the scouts than Reiner, and certainly less hateful glares from Porco, but she does get far more uncertain looks from Pieck and Magath. Even Yelena seems unsure of what to make of the woman who got her titan by pure chance.

The children hover at the edge of this drama. Specifically, Gabi hesitantly hovers by Sasha, visibly comfortable inserting herself back amongst the warrior unit after all that has happened, but also not ready to forgive Reiner and uncertain of who else to attach herself to, and Falco hovers close to Gabi. They are another matter entirely, another story tied up in soulmarks and world-shattering realizations.

*

None of them should have been surprised. Sasha has a history of difficult soulmates.

It didn't start that way. Connie and Jean's blue marks are fairly straightforward, and even if it's a little surprising that she's rumored to share a third with the reclusive Mikasa Ackerman, it isn't shocking or problematic. They started growing to be more of an issue after she met the girl represented by the golden farmhouse on her bicep. Although her bond with Kaya seemed fairly straightforward, their first meeting sounded outright traumatic. The blue leaf that represented Reiner gained a new weight after a certain point in time, but the shock was dulled by the knowledge that four of her comrades also shared marks with him.

No, Niccolo was the one that really threw expectations and preconceived notions to the wind. The discovery that her fiery red frying pan correlated to a Marleyan prisoner of war was an "exciting" incident for everyone involved. But even after that whole fiasco was resolved, the meaning of the long golden mark running along Sasha’s cheekbone remained a mystery. Its shape was seemingly nonsensical - some sort of combination of an axe and a gun. At that point in time, Bertolt had never seen anything like it, let alone met anyone with an identical mark.

There had been three among their ranks with mysterious gold marks at the time. Sasha, with her weird hybrid weapon, Reiner, with his footprint, and Levi, who the former 104th had been shocked to discover had two - a flower on one shoulder and a teacup on the other. Soon after that, Bertolt had overheard Sasha excitedly wonder if her and Reiner’s gold mark might be the same person, if they might be one of Levi’s as well. Jean had told her that she was talking nonsense, that he couldn’t think of anyone who needed three separate guide marks.

That was before they met the girl made to bear the weight of Reiner’s betrayal.

...Turning against Marley hadn't been an easy decision. Bertolt had understood the repercussions that Reiner's family would face - it is why he didn't and still doesn't blame him for any seed of resentment that may have been planted in the aftermath. It is why, as he trudged back to the scouts, uncertain of if he would live or die, he found himself praying that his father had peacefully passed away during the mission. But knowing the consequences of your actions and seeing them first-hand are different things entirely.

Ymir chose to turn back because of her soulmate. Bertolt decided to surrender because they were doomed without her, and because allowing the armored titan to Marley would only mean more suffering for the people he could not deny he had come to love, he had been able to convince Reiner to do the same. Because Reiner had surrendered, his family had been sent to paradise.

But they were not the only ones capable of pulling the threads of fate. Rumor had it that Zeke Yaeger had once been a promising young cadet in a difficult situation. And when he looked at the girl whose fate was nearly sealed by her cousin's actions, despite the differences in their situations, Bertolt theorized that he saw a similarity. Or maybe it wasn't as sentimental as that. Maybe merely saw an opportunity. Whatever the case, the outcome was the same, a story shakily breathed out by a shell-shocked young girl as she watched the hybrid weapon marked across her forearm flicker with intermittent hues of silver and coal. He reached out to the girl and offered an opportunity - work for Marley, earn her place as one of their warriors, and prove that she was not like her cousin. Redeem her family's good name from beyond the grave.

So Bertolt and Reiner became Paridisians in all but name, and Gabi Braun became a creature of fury.

Fury. It isn't surprising that that is all she felt when Paradis came knocking on Liberio's door and killed droves of innocents, including two of her only companions. All because the scouts discovered too late that they couldn't actually control the devil known as Eren Jaeger. He cannot blame her for seeing red and breaking onto their ship. For all the horror of the moment, he cannot blame her for taking fire on the first islander she spotted.

Even after hearing it from her own mouth, it still feels like a stroke of luck great enough to near-divine intervention to know that she flinched. That she saw the unique soulmark plastered on Sasha's cheekbone, and in the same instant that Falco lunged at her, she flinched. She flinched, and although it took hours for anything to be confirmed, hours of blood and stress and fear, the bullet landed painfully, but not fatally.

For all of the propaganda drilled into her head, for all of her despair and hatred for the island of devils, almost killing your soulmate does something to you. In Gabi's case, it dulled her fury enough for her to start to listen. To witness the grief and love of the people around her, the way Marleyan Niccolo was clearly only barely restraining from taking violent action on behalf of a "devil", how, despite Falco's ardent defense of her character, he wasn't the only one insisting that no harm befall to her. It made her witness their humanity. And that, Bertolt suspects, may have made her start to consider who exactly killed her family.

She is still hesitant around most of them, more so than Falco, who, while frightened and out of his depth, is also burningly curious and has a good head on his shoulders. She refused to so much as talk to Reiner until after Zeke's attack. But she is hesitant around the Marleyans now. She also apologized to Sasha once she was stabilized enough to move, which has to count as some sort of progress.

...The soulmark makes sense now. At some point during Zeke's attack, Gabi apparently killed a titan with a gun in order to save Kaya. A delighted Sasha had declared it the mark of a "titan-killer supreme".

So, no. Now that Bertolt thinks about it, none of it is surprising. Not that Sasha shares a soulmark with the girl who almost killed her, and not the fact that of Gabi's five marks, all but Kaya's blue ribbon and Falco's purple feather are golden.

She is already starting to grow out of her fury. Although she does a remarkable job of holding herself together, because Ymir once turned back for her soulmate, because Bertolt followed her and got Reiner to come with him, because Zeke saw a similarity or an opportunity, and because Eren turned out to be the devil none of them believed he was, Gabi Braun is a broken child.

Bertolt hasn't once been able to bring himself to look her in the eyes.

*

For the rest of them, there is absolutely no escaping the larger shadow hanging over their heads. Levi is too injured for much of his face to be visible at this point, but Bertolt has seen the flickers of pain and regret across the Commander's face. He would be willing to bet that Eren has not left their mind once this entire time. (He also has no doubt that they are already set on what must be done.) Even without bandages, Levi has always been far harder to read, but he suspects that Hange's feelings are a good indicator of his own.

Armin is far worse. His countenance is someone who fears that he may be losing his best friend, who wants to cling to the hope that it might not be too late, but has already accepted the truth somewhere deep down. He and Annie have been sticking by each other's sides all through the night. Bertolt does not know how much Armin truly helps when Annie is so fresh out of her crystal and struggling with her own pains, even subtly contributing to the cloud of other tensions with her own unresolved tensions with Reiner and untouched history with Marley, but he thinks it is still good that they have each other. Even though Armin is one of the people he has found some degree of kinship with in the past years of with Scouts, he does not dare approach them.

Worst of all is Mikasa. There is a greater gulf between her and the rest of the Scouts than Reiner, Ymir, or even Bertolt can lay claim to. It makes sense that she would be further away than Reiner or Ymir, he thinks. Mikasa always held herself at a degree of distance, whereas Reiner was always social and seemed to have half of their tattered group as soulmarks besides. Ymir is a relatively distant person with only one living soulmate, but she cannot be feeling anywhere near the level of devastation that she is in at this moment. But Bertolt? He is a distant person with only a single soulmark that he does not know to correspond to any specific person. Even knowing that Eren may well be her whole world, seeing her so much further away feels wrong.

Bertolt slowly scans the crowd gathered around the fire and does not spot her. He frowns.

"Has anyone seen Mikasa?" he asks.

It’s Hange that answers, glancing up from where they have been carefully watching Levi. “She said she was going for a walk. That was a while ago though…”

Heavy silence fills the air. Bertolt is rising to his feet before he can think about it.

Armin and Jean move in the same instant. In Jean's case, it is the flinching motion of someone about to stand, but he freezes when he sees that he isn't the only one. His gaze slides from Bertolt and Armin to Reiner, then to the warrior unit, to Annie, to Ymir, and finally to the children huddled a few places down from him, before he reluctantly settles back into his seat. Armin, however, is already halfway standing. Bertolt meets his gaze and slowly shakes his head. Armin frowns and glances at the forest, but ultimately looks back at Annie and sits back down with a small nod in Bertolt's direction.

There is something haunting about the forest. It is not the threat of Yaegerists that makes him feel that way either. Rather, it is something about the night. The night and what might come with the day.

It is a relief that it does not take long to find Mikasa. She is sitting hunched at the base of a tree, her scarf tucked over her nose, gazing up at the sky through the tree's canopy.

Bertolt hesitates. It feels wrong to say anything, but even worse to walk away. He knows that she will have noticed him even if she does not show it. Even if she hasn't... it would be wrong to walk away.

Ultimately, he walks up and sits down a few paces away from her, at the base of the same tree. He pulls his legs up against his chest, wraps his arms around them, and rests his chin on his knees.

They are silent for a little while. Then, softly, she asks, "when did you know that what you were doing was wrong?"

Bertolt swallows. His gaze drops to his right ankle. It takes a little while for him to find the words, but when he does, he whispers, "Shiganshina. Right after I kicked the hole in the wall, when I looked down... that's when I knew."

*

Precious few people know about it - Former Commander Erwin, Commander Hange, and Captain Levi, because he couldn't keep any secrets from them after the truth was revealed, but also Reiner, Ymir, and presumably Historia - but Bertolt's only soulmark is on his ankle. It is a bright burgundy replica of the wall that once protected Shiganshina.

...In his time on Paradis and the years before that, he has not met anyone with a similar mark. He would suspect that his soulmate is dead, eaten or crushed to death in that initial attack, were it not for the fact that the mark has not yet turned silver.

That does not mean that he thinks there is someone out there for him. No. Instead, Bertolt has come to suspect that maybe he doesn't have a soulmate. He looks at his mark and wonders if it is possible for people to be bound to concepts, memories, moments in time. He looks at his mark and sees a warning. A grim reminder.

Perhaps it is egotistical of him to think that his mark is unique, but even so, it is the only thing he can think of. His mark isn't meant to tie him to someone or guide him to them. It is there to make sure he can never forget the worst thing he has ever done, to make sure he never does it again.

How funny, then, that it didn't even work. Just because the hole in Trost's wall was plugged doesn't mean that it was never created. He can try to do better in what little time he has left, sure, but it still happened.

...He wonders if Eren has secretly had Liberio's wall encircling his ankle this whole time. Marvels at how, if he does, it didn't stop him either.

*

Mikasa makes a slight noise. It is too faint for Bertolt to tell what it is, and he doesn't bother commenting on it, because he's well aware that they aren't actually talking about him.

Several minutes pass before she speaks again, her voice carefully neutral in the way that he knows is designed to hide pain, even if he isn't used to hearing it from her. "Why did you keep going?" she asks.

Because of Reiner, is the treacherous first thought that he doesn't say. It is needlessly cruel and doesn't apply to their situation for a variety of reasons, least of all being that if there was anything Reiner could have done to stop this, he knows that he would have in a heartbeat.

"Because I was scared of what would happen if I didn't," he says instead. "Annie was the same. And Reiner..." Bertolt hesitates, because out of the three of them, he knows that this is the one that matters.

*

Eren has never been secretive about his soulmarks. There's a reason why Reiner is his only soulmate outside of Mikasa and Armin, even if it took them this long to realize the truth.

...He's caught glimpses of the faux-scarf wrapped around Mikasa's neck beneath the real one, and it is a darker crimson than the actual fabric. The cresting blue wave on Armin's collar bone is several shades darker than it ought to be. The golden clasped hands over Reiner's heart have a black sheen in the right light.

It is possible for golden marks to be mutual rather than just one person guiding the other. Bertolt has long suspected that was the case for Eren and Reiner. However, he also assumed that Reiner's part was done after he revealed his identity. Everyone did. No one considered the alternative until the roles had already begun to reverse and it started to make a sickening sort of sense.

The signs were always there. They just didn't want to see it.

*

"I don't think Reiner realized he could stop until someone else made the decision for him," he says. "I think... If Ymir hadn't gone back, he would have kept going until someone stopped him."

And he would have been stopped, Bertolt realizes with the sudden clarity made available only by retrospect. Because he and Eren were soulmates for a reason, and if Eren's soulmarks weren't enough to prevent his betrayal of humanity, it goes to reason that it would have happened in a world without them. And Reiner never would have been able to stand by and watch as he repeated his mistakes on a much larger scale. It provides some small iota of relief to how much he has watched him struggle over the past years, because if his path was going to lead him here regardless, then at least he has had time for some of those wounds to heal before the probable end of the world.

But Eren is not Reiner. He does not appear hobbled by guilt in the way Reiner was, and no one is going to come across and commit a greater atrocity to force him back onto the right path.

"I can stop him," Mikasa says, and there is a desperate sort of hope in her voice. And Bertolt...

In that moment, Bertolt is startlingly certain that she can. He has never claimed to know Mikasa Ackerman well, but he knows that she is braver than him, stronger than him, and not truly quite as distant. Eren may well be her entire world, but he also trusts that she will not sacrifice everyone else's to protect it.

He trusts that she can and probably will be the one to stop Eren. He just doesn't trust that she will stop him the way that she hopes she can. Or maybe she will. Bertolt doesn't have any true way of knowing. But as he listens to her make her proclamation, voice vulnerable and raw in a way that he has never heard from her, he vows that he will do whatever he can to help her. Whatever the path ahead may hold.

He doesn't say that though. Instead, he remains quiet for several minutes before murmuring, "We should head back. The others will be getting worried."

For a moment, there is no response. Then he hears Mikasa begin to stand and follows suit. They walk back to camp together and do not have another private conversation until the Rumbling has been seen to its bittersweet end and all of their questions have been answered.

All but one.

*

Precious few people know it - only Armin and, once upon a time, Eren - but Mikasa Ackerman has five soulmarks.

The first is a silver scarf wrapped around her neck, once a deep crimson, now a mournful silver.

Armin's bright blue book rests on the palm of her left hand. She has never felt a need to hide it.

A cheerful blue potato rests on her stomach, and she will never tire of teasing Sasha for it.

The fact that the tiny purple paring blade hidden on the side of one of her fingers corresponds with Annie's is a secret that dies with them.

And the mark that she has spent years of her life refusing to think about or acknowledge, but is beginning to think that she may be able to address eventually.

Near the tattoo on her right wrist, where it is easily and reliably concealed, rests a bright burgundy replica of the wall that once protected Shiganshina.