Chapter Text
"It's warm, right?"
They stood outside the rickety cabin, his hands gently adjusting the red scarf he had just wrapped around the girl's neck. Mikasa looked up at him, clutching the fabric tightly with her small, trembling hand. She was drowning in Grisha's large coat, which dwarfed her small frame, but the scarf offered a shield against the lingering chill and the horror she had just witnessed.
"It's warm," Mikasa whispered, her voice barely audible.
Grisha stood a few paces away, his expression heavy with a mix of sorrow and relief. He glanced back at the chaotic scene behind them—the Military Police were already swarming the cabin, securing the area and the three dead bodies inside.
"Mikasa," Grisha said gently, drawing her attention. "Why don't you live with us?"
Mikasa's eyes widened slightly. "Eh?"
"You've been through a lot," Grisha continued, his voice kind. "You need plenty of rest."
Mikasa turned her gaze toward Eren. She was still clutching a piece of the scarf, anchoring herself to him as the only solid thing left in her crumbling world.
"What?" Eren asked, noticing her stare.
Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed her sleeve. "Come on. Let's head back already... to our home."
Mikasa's eyes shot up, instantly filling with fresh tears. The emotion overwhelmed her, the simple offer of a home striking a chord deep within her chest. "Okay," she muffled, her face still hidden behind the the scarf.
Grisha nodded and took the lead. He guided them away from the cabin, navigating past the MPs who were still finishing their initial investigation. One of the officers nodded at Grisha.
"We'll stay in touch regarding the incident, Dr. Yeager," the officer said formally.
"Thank you," Grisha replied. He kept a hand near the children, ushering them toward the path where his horse was tethered.
Eren didn't let go of Mikasa’s sleeve. He held onto it firmly, as if letting go would mean she might disappear. Grisha walked ahead, cutting a path through the underbrush. They had come here originally to check on Mikasa’s mother, who had been pregnant, but they were leaving with the only survivor.
The walk to the horse was quiet, save for their footsteps and the occasional snort of the animal. When they reached it, Grisha helped Mikasa climb onto the horse's back first. Eren scrambled up next, settling into the middle, and Grisha took the rear, grabbing the reins.
The ride back to Shiganshina was long and silent. The landscape gradually shifted from isolated woodland to the outskirts of the district. Mikasa hadn't been here in years. Her life had been secluded in that cabin within Wall Maria, homeschooled by her parents with no interaction with other children or people. Now, the walls of the town felt looming and foreign.
As they arrived in front of the Yeager household, Grisha pulled the horse to a halt. The familiar sight of the two-story home stood against the dark sky. Grisha tied the reins to the post, and Eren slid down from the horse first, turning immediately to help Mikasa. She landed softly, her legs shaky after the adrenaline had worn off.
Grisha opened the front door, and they stepped inside.
"We're home mom!" Eren yelled, his voice echoing in the hall.
Carla Yeager appeared almost instantly, a warm smile on her face as she came toward the entrance.
"Welcome back, I was wondering wh—"
She stopped abruptly. Her smile faltered and her brows furrowed as she noticed the small girl standing between her husband and son, wearing Grisha's coat and Eren's red scarf. She exchanged a long, confused look with Grisha.
Grisha stepped forward, closing the distance to his wife. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, explaining in clipped, hushed tones about the tragedy at the cabin, the kidnapping, and the fate of Mikasa's parents.
Carla's eyebrows shot up in shock. Her eyes widened as the weight of the story settled in, her hand coming up to cover her mouth briefly. She composed herself quickly, her maternal instincts overriding her surprise.
She stepped toward Mikasa and crouched down, bringing herself to the girl's eye level. Carla reached out and took both of Mikasa's cold hands in her warm ones.
"Oh dear..." Carla said softly. "Everything will be alright."
Mikasa's eyes filled with tears again. The kindness was too much, too soon after the cruelty she had witnessed. Carla didn't hesitate. She pulled the girl into a gentle embrace, one hand caressing Mikasa's back while the other stroked her hair.
After a moment, Carla pulled back and offered a reassuring smile. "You're going to live with us now, okay?"
Mikasa nodded, her mouth still hidden behind the scarf, unable to find her voice.
Carla stood up and turned to Eren. She kissed him on the forehead, finally acknowledging her son. "You'll have to share your room with her," she told him. "I'm sorry honey, but that also means you have to sleep on the floor on a mattress for now."
"Okay," Eren said simply.
He didn't complain, though sleeping on the floor didn't sound great. He just nodded, accepting the change without a fight.
Carla smiled and caressed his cheek, proud of his rare sign of maturity. "Good boy."
She turned back to Mikasa and took her hand again. "Come on dear, let's get you cleaned up. I'll help you take a warm bath."
Mikasa allowed herself to be led toward the bathroom, looking back at Eren for a split second before disappearing down the hall with Carla.
Grisha and Eren finally walked fully inside the house, shutting the front door against the cold. Grisha looked down at his son, his expression turning stern once more.
"Eren," Grisha said, his voice low. "I meant what I said back there."
Eren looked up, frowning slightly. "I know."
"What you did was incredibly dangerous," Grisha continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You cannot risk your life like that again. You could have been killed."
Eren looked down at his boots. He didn't try to argue back. He had already heard enough of the lecture after his dad had returned with the Military Police and found the bodies of the kidnappers. He knew he had done something reckless, but he couldn't care less. Those men were nothing more than animals.
Grisha sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing as he crouched down to Eren's level. He placed his hands on the boy's shoulders.
"Eren. Please, don't shut Mikasa out," Grisha said softly, his eyes searching Eren's. "Now that she's going to live with us, you need to be there for her. She's gone through something incredibly traumatic. It will take time for her to heal and adjust to this life."
He paused, thinking about the girl they had just taken in. "I've met Mikasa a few times when her mother had appointments and I visited the cabin. She is a girl who has had no contact with anyone apart from her parents. This is a whole new world for her."
Grisha looked at him seriously. "So make sure to take care of her and look out for her."
Eren met his father's gaze, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "I know, Dad. I will."
Grisha nodded and pulled his son into a hug. Eren hugged him back, his face buried in his father's shoulder.
As Grisha held his son, his thoughts drifted to the secret he carried. It’s almost time, he thought grimly. He remembered the words Eren Kruger had told him all those years ago. When your child turns 10 years old, it is time for him to finish your mission.
He held Eren tighter, knowing that the peace of their home, and the life they were currently building is a ticking time bomb. The titan power was a burden that would soon need to be passed down.
The bathroom had been filled with steam, the scent of soap helping to wash away the lingering smell of blood and wilderness from Mikasa's skin. Carla had been gentle, washing the girl's hair with a care that made Mikasa flinch at first, before she slowly realized she wasn't in danger. When she was done, Carla dressed her in some of Eren's old clothes that were a bit bigger on her.
"Tomorrow," Carla had said, brushing Mikasa's damp hair, "I'll take you to the market. We'll get you some clothes of your own. Something pretty."
Mikasa had only nodded, still too shell-shocked to offer much of a verbal response.
While Mikasa dressed, Carla moved to Eren's room. The Yeager family had already eaten dinner before Grisha and Eren had left for the Ackermans' cabin, but Carla insisted on making a warm meal for Mikasa. It was a simple stew, but Mikasa ate it quietly at the table with mechanical movements.
Once fed, the topic of sleeping arrangements arose. Eren's room wasn't large, just big enough for his bed, a small desk, and a chest of drawers. Carla dragged a spare mattress from the linen closet and laid it out on the floor beside Eren's bed.
"Eren, remember you take the floor tonight," Carla said gently but firmly.
"Okay," Eren agreed again, still not complaining. He understood, even if the floor looked hard and cold.
Mikasa would take the bed. She stood by the door, clutching the hem of her oversized shirt, looking lost.
Eventually, the house quieted down. Grisha and Carla saw them both into the room. Carla bent down to kiss Mikasa on the forehead, her touch lingering, and then did the same for Eren.
"If anything happens, if you need anything at all, just call us," Carla said from the doorway. "We're right down the hall."
"Goodnight," Carla and Grisha whispered.
"Goodnight," the children echoed.
The door clicked shut, plunging the room into near darkness, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. Eren lay down on the mattress on the floor, pulling the blanket up to his chin. It was definitely harder than his bed, but he closed his eyes, realizing that the adrenaline from the day had finally worn off.
He was exhausted. His limbs felt heavy, and his eyes burned with the need for sleep. He drifted off quickly, the silence of the house lulling him into a deep rest.
The next minute, Eren woke up to a sound.
It was faint, a rhythmic rustling that pulled him from the depths of sleep. He opened his eyes, his vision blurry in the dim light. For a moment, he didn't know where he was, staring up at the ceiling of his room. Then, the events of the day came rushing back—the cabin, the men, the blood, Mikasa.
The sound came again. It was coming from the bed.
Eren pushed himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked over at the bed. Mikasa was lying with her back turned to him, curled into a small ball. Her shoulders were shaking.
She’s crying. The realization hit him in the chest.
He sat there for a second, unsure of what to do. His dad had told him to look out for her, to not shut her out. But Eren was nine years old. He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't know how to fix anything. He wasn't like Armin.
Slowly, he reached out and placed a hand on her shaking shoulder.
Mikasa startled violently. She gasped and looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide and filled with terror, as if she expected one of the kidnappers to be grabbing her.
"Hey," Eren said quickly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It's just me."
Mikasa stared at him, her breathing rapid and shallow. As her eyes focused on Eren's face in the dark, the terror began to recede, replaced by a lingering sadness. She calmed down, turning over slightly to look up at him.
"Are you okay?" Eren asked.
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized how stupid it sounded. Of course she wasn't okay. Her parents had just been murdered in front of her. She had been kidnapped. She had just killed a man for the first time in her life.
Mikasa looked down at her hands, which were gripping the bedsheets tightly. "Sorry," she whispered. Her voice was so soft, barely there, sounding fragile and innocent.
Eren frowned. "For what?"
"For waking you up," she said, her voice cracking slightly.
Eren shrugged, trying to look casual. "I wasn't asleep anyway."
Mikasa blinked up at him. She didn't believe him. She could tell by his sleepy voice and the tousled hair that he had been dead to the world. But she didn't call him out on it.
Eren noticed her look and averted his gaze, scratching the back of his neck. He felt awkward. His only real friend was Armin, and even then, their friendship was built on adventure and running around, not emotional talks. Sure, he talked to girls in his class sometimes, but it was usually about homework. This was different.
"Did you... have a nightmare?" Eren asked tentatively. "Or just couldn't sleep?"
Mikasa stammered for a moment, clutching the blanket. "B-both."
Eren wasn't surprised. It made sense. Her world had been turned upside down in a single afternoon. The people she loved the most were gone, the only home she had ever known was a crime scene, and now she was sleeping in a strange house with people she barely knew, despite their kindness.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He thought hard. He really wasn't built for this. He wanted to make her feel better, or at least distract her from the images that were surely playing in her mind.
"Do you want me to tell you about my friend Armin?" Eren blurted out.
Mikasa blinked at him, clearly not expecting him to say that. She just stared at him with her large, dark eyes, before nodding slowly.
"Okay, well," Eren started, relieved that she hadn't told him to shut up. "I only have one friend at the moment. His name is Armin. We met when we were seven years old."
He shifted, getting more comfortable. "He was always getting picked on and bullied by some of the older kids in town. I hate bullies, you know? They make me so angry. So sometimes, I try to help him. But no matter what, they never leave him alone."
Eren looked down at his hands. "He lives with his grandpa, not far from our house. He's... really smart. He reads lots of books, way more than I do. He knows so many things about everything. I think you two would get along. He's kinda quiet, like you."
Mikasa looked at him, her face open and innocent, listening intently to every word.
"Anyway," Eren continued, warming up to the topic. "As I said, he knows a lot of things. He was the one who told me about the outside world."
Eren turned his head to look out the window. The curtain was pulled back slightly, revealing a slice of the night sky. To anyone else, it was just darkness, but in Eren's mind, he could see the pictures Armin had painted for him.
"Sandy snowfields," Eren began, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. "Water that burns like fire, fields of ice, giant rocks that take days to climb." He looked back at Mikasa. "The outside world is huge."
He muttered the last part mostly to himself, a sense of wonder filling his chest. "And one day, I'm going out there to see it with him. That's my dream."
Mikasa's face softened as she watched him. She saw the passion in his eyes, the fire that seemed to burn there even in the dark. It was a stark contrast to the cold emptiness she felt inside.
"Maybe," Eren said, the thought occurring to him suddenly. "You could join us?"
Mikasa's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn't expected an invitation. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly.
"I'd like that," she whispered.
Eren smiled, a genuine, boyish grin. "Then it's decided. Me, you and Armin! It'll be great."
The silence that followed wasn't as heavy as before. Mikasa's eyelids began to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up to her again.
"If you have another nightmare," Eren said, noticing her fading alertness, "just wake me up this time, okay? Don't just cry by yourself."
"Goodnight," he said, and stood up from the edge of the bed to go back to his mattress on the floor.
But as he turned to leave, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
"Eren, time to—" Carla began, her voice cheery and bright.
She stopped mid-sentence. The words died in her throat as her eyes scanned the room. The mattress on the floor, where Eren was supposed to be sleeping, was empty. The blanket was thrown to the side, kicked off in the night.
Carla's gaze lifted to the bed, and she froze. Grisha, standing right behind her, nearly bumped into her but stopped just as quickly, his own eyes widening at the scene before them.
Eren and Mikasa were in the bed together. They were fast asleep, curled up on their sides facing one another. Their foreheads were touching, their breaths mingling in the small space between their faces. Mikasa's hand was fisted tightly in the fabric of Eren's shirt, as if she were physically anchoring him to her, ensuring he couldn't leave.
Carla's initial surprise melted away instantly. Her eyes softened, a tender look replacing the shock. She stepped back slightly, leaning into her husband.
"You were right," she whispered, keeping her voice low so as not to wake them. "She will seek comfort in Eren from now on."
Grisha smiled, a small, knowing curve of his lips as he looked at his son and the orphaned girl he had brought home. "I told him to take care of her, but I didn't expect this of Eren. He can be... dense when it comes to these things."
Carla sighed softly, her heart aching for the girl in the bed. "That poor girl..." She looked at Mikasa's peaceful expression, a stark contrast to the terror she had worn the night before. "I hope she recovers from this."
Grisha nodded, his expression sobering. "With our help, she will. We are her family now."
Carla turned to look at her husband, searching his face. "Do you think she can change Eren for the better?"
Grisha paused. He looked away from the bed and met Carla's gaze, thinking about his son's fiery temper, his reckless nature, and the violence he had displayed yesterday. He looked back at the sleeping pair.
"I think she will," Grisha said. "Perhaps more than we know."
"I hope so," Carla murmured, watching Eren sleeping soundly beside Mikasa. "Eren is far too reckless for his own good. If he has someone to protect, someone who relies on him like this... maybe it will ground him."
Grisha nodded in agreement, but as he watched them, a shadow passed over his face. A sudden, sharp memory pierced through his mind. The voice echoing in his head.
If you want to save Mikasa, Armin, and everyone else, you must complete your mission.