Striking Back at the Veins (An Eremin Fanfiction) [SNK/AOT AU]

Chapter 4 - A Ghost From Hell

"Eren, you're not getting into fights again are you?"

"No mother, I'm fine." I exasperated. It mustn't have been convincing. She transferred her arms to her chest and crossed them, giving me a look that said I know you're lying.

"Really, I just... tripped on a curve and hit my head, I'm serious. It's fine." She still wasn't convinced but she didn't persist.

"As long as you're okay, but I still don't understand why you wouldn't be out later, I didn't set a curfew or anything."

"So?" I asked

"It's just that... You're at that age where... you will... damn it, your dad was supposed to give you this talk." Oh god no not this talk!

"Mother no it's fine... I'm not going to- it's- no-" It was getting too awkward to handle so I said nothing more and took sanctuary in the safety of my bedroom. My mother didn't seem to get the message as she followed me to my safe haven and sat on my bed continuing the conversation.

"You just need to make sure you're being safe is all I'm saying sweetie."

"I thought I already told you. I'm gay and don't worry I'm a virgin."

"YOU CAN STILL GET STD'S!" I buried my head in my hands. This was going nowhere. I stood up, took my mother by the hands and dragged her out of my room. I kissed her goodnight and closed the door of my room. The faint 'love you' echoed from outside my room. My boots slipped off and my bed creaked when I climbed on top of it staring at the ceiling.

The ceiling was blank and monotoned yet it held all the colourful memories of me and Armin as kids. There was yellows and greens of when we would laugh until our stomachs cramped but there were also reds and greys from the traumas he- well, we faced. In the first few weeks of his mother's death when we became friends he wasn't able to sleep so he would come into my room and we would stare at the ceiling talking about nothing. I would stay awake with him until my voice calmed him to the point of unconsciousness. Occasionally he would toss and turn from nightmares of his mother which he told me about when he awoke. I would pull him to my chest to shush his painful sobbing while stroking his hair until his bad thoughts left. It killed me knowing he was mentally wounded, I just wanted to rip out the bad thoughts from his memories and burn them in the deepest parts of hell where they belonged, not buried in that faultless loving boys mind.

I felt a tear slide past my eye. How could he of all people be the Shadowstrike. He was so kind. So innocent. Yes, he was brilliant at self-defence but that's all he would use it for, self-defence. He hated hurting people. When we would compete he would always go up to his competitor afterwards to make sure they were okay and he didn't injure them. Mikasa was right I must have been delusional. Someone slipped something in my drink maybe and I was just seeing things. I kept to trying to make-up excuses proving I was misinterpreting the situation but I could not deny that that voice and that hair was definitely his,

I suggest you step to the side, this could get messy. Those were not the words of the sensitive, caring friend I knew. They were the words of psychopathic killer who took joy in the suffering of others. If he was really alive all this time why couldn't he come back? Didn't he realise that I thought he was dead? Why would he put me through this much grief to just bestow it on others? He was definitely always intelligent enough to keep his identity hidden but why? These questions repeated in my head until they lost their meaning and they pulled me into a forced and restless sleep.

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The sound of the slide and shift of my window opening startled me to consciousness. I sat up to the click of it closing to see a familiar blue-eyed boy, moonlight refracting off his shining blond hair. Armin! I jumped out of bed to see the face I had been longing to see for so long but he wouldn't turn to me. Quiet sobs emitted around me, coming from the smaller boy. His glassy eyes stared up at mine and pulled me in for a hug.