Chapter Text
Two weeks later and he was on his way to Hermina with the logistics team who were making one of the regular supply runs. Armin had confided his situation and resolution to his superior officer, and rather than the dressing down and possible discharge he had expected, it had sparked very little interest. He was sent to Hanji for a pregnancy test, and after it was confirmed that yes, he really was pregnant, medical leave was granted and arrangements were made.
It made Armin realize that he'd never really given much thought to pregnant soldiers; and it had to be a fairly common issue given the amount of females in the military, and the general human distaste for celibacy. And yet very few female soldiers had dropped out early to start families.
Apparently he would not need to resort to risky measures to rid himself of his pregnancy; the military had several doctors that could perform a surgery that would accomplish the same thing with far less risk to his health and that would allow him to return to duty soon. And rather than the moral scorn he expected, that society itself had always given to women attempting to “go against nature” as the priests said, he was instead encountered with the opposite attitude: it would be shameful and immoral to waste his training and all the military had contributed to his upbringing, if he insisted on bearing the child; making himself unfit for duty for almost a year, and longer if he could find no one to care for the child while he returned to duty, in which case he would face a dishonorable discharge.
It made sense in a country that had far too many mouths to feed and a greater need for more trained soldiers. Armin could see the logic in it, even if it did seem a cold set of rules. The change in policy was a recent one; having gotten much stricter after the fall of Shiganshina. Before that Armin would have had to seek out a doctor and pay for any medical services to terminate his pregnancy. Now for soldiers they were covered along with any other needed health services.
Outwardly, to the other soldiers in the wagon, Armin looked as calm and thoughtful as ever. Inside, however, he was still torn. What he wanted was to never have had to make the decision in the first place. It was the only option that really looked good to him, and it was no option at all, just regret and fantasy.
Before long the wagon was at Hermina's gates; then through the city proper. Armin was let off near the military hospital, and given instructions for meeting back up with the supply team before they departed in the evening.
It was a short walk, and then he was standing, facing the building where he would go in and all of his problems, or at least the most pressing one, would supposedly be solved. He went in.
The procedure itself was so uneventful and painless that Armin could barely believe it had been done at all. Having chosen to go under for it didn't help either. Everything had an increasingly unreal feel to it that he couldn't seem to shake off. It took him a few hours before he was recovered enough from the drugs to leave.
The sun was beginning to set as Armin made his way to the plaza. Physically, he felt weak and tired. Mentally, there was nothing. He seemed drained of all emotion. He was numb as he climbed into the wagon and felt the jarring bumps as it left the city.
The numbness was good, and he was dimly grateful for it. He suspected it was like a wall, and should he leave its protective defenses, he would be exposed to the searing inquisition of numerous painful emotions.
He stayed that way, struggling to stay behind the wall, for the rest of the trip back to headquarters and for the rest of the day. Anytime he felt the pain welling up, or a stabbing sorrow, he thought of his grandfather. He thought of Grisha and Carla Jaeger, and of all the children and parents that had died either in the Titan attack, or in the reclamation attempt later. He thought of what it had been like for him, Eren, Mikasa, and countless others to grow up orphaned, alone.
This pushed away the gnawing doubt about whether he done the right thing, but served to push him out from the wall and into a total and miserable depression. The world as it was was too awful a place to want to bring a child into, but at the same time being reminded of just how much he and the others had been subjected to was almost overwhelming.
He struggled against tears all through dinner, grateful for the dark room and the flickering firelight that concealed the misery on his face. Afterwards, he attempted the quick escape to his room that was becoming typical of him.
Unfortunately for him, Eren and Mikasa were both more observant than he expected. With a quick glance of absolute understanding between them, they headed him off in the hallway outside his room.
“Armin, you have to tell us what's wrong.”
“You were crying at dinner.” Mikasa said, as seemingly detached as ever, though Armin knew her well enough to read the concern in her eyes.
“I was not!” Armin said, though now he was.
“Just leave me alone guys.”
And with that, he proved that he wasn't so physically inept after all; he slipped by them in a lightning-fast maneuver and sped into his room, slamming the door and bolting it behind him.
Outside, Eren and Mikasa stood, Eren looking slightly bewildered.
He walked over and knocked on Armin's door steadily for several minutes. He received no answer, but was not discouraged. They would get to the bottom of this, and soon. They walked off to their own rooms, but Eren's face had taken on its usual scarily determined expression.
Inside Armin's room, he was trying to sleep, but was instead being tormented by thoughts that were incredibly pointless and a waste of time, but which he couldn't seem to break away from. He kept wondering if it would have had his blue eyes, his grandfather's kindness, his parents' bravery. He wondered if it would have been smart like him, weak like him, or it would have been something far different from him altogether, taking after its father. Would it have gotten the good from them without the bad? What would the baby have been like? What would his life been like with it? What path had he turned away from for good?
His inability to destroy these trains of thought only made him angrier, which made it even more difficult to relax and fall asleep, and he spent most of the night suffering.
As a result, he did not look well in the morning at all. The old mirror in his room showed purple-brown dark circles that lay under his eyes like bruises, and the bags under his eyes showed his lack of sleep. Sleep had done nothing to improve his mood or mindset, and he dreaded leaving the room and facing Eren and Mikasa, who knew something was up if not what.
He did not want them to know what was up. Although they'd never be able to force Thalberg's name out of him, he didn't want them to know even the slightest bit of what had happened to him. And the fact that he had not told them about a relationship with anyone could indicate one of two things: either he didn't trust them enough to tell them he was seeing someone (which he didn't think they would believe) or that he'd been raped or ill-used by someone. Believing either of those things would hurt them. Eren didn't need another reason to feel angry, or to be concerned about him. Mikasa didn't need yet another reason to be distrustful of human beings.
Both of them would likely blame themselves for not knowing, for not protecting him. He could not let that happen.
Slightly energized by his determination to be strong for his friends, he brushed his hair out and put his uniform on, making sure it was neat and trim. Then he headed downstairs.
At breakfast he smiled and chatted with the other morning people (he was normally unusually alert and content in the mornings, when half of the other soldiers usually looked like death warmed over). Eren was one of the latter, and looked as though he was still mostly asleep, slumped over a cup of coffee and a bowl of gruel. Mikasa, however, was another who was usually wide-eyed and alert in the morning. She stared relentlessly at Armin the whole time.
He looked like his normal happy self. Inside he was dying.
The day commenced normally though, and Eren and Mikasa seemed to buy his act, which did give him the slightest bit of a happiness. They talked about normal things throughout the day (it was yet another cleaning day, aimed at keeping the castle “presentable”, in Levi's words). Armin always wondered who it was meant to be “presentable” to. A king? Anyone else would have been more than pleased with the overly immaculate building.
Floors were scrubbed, banisters were polished, rugs beat within an inch of their life. The three were alone in the pantry, straightening all the food containers and making sure each package was properly organized, and grousing about it, when they moved in on him.
He was completely caught off guard, which was probably what they had planned. Act like they were letting it go, get his guard down, and then begin the offense.
Where had he been yesterday?
Went into the city with the supply train.
Why?
Why not?
What had happened in the city to make him come back crying?
Nothing, he hadn't been crying. (A hollow lie, and one which he felt cheap in saying—they had both seen him crying, and they knew he knew they'd seen him.)
Why had he been in a daze for the last two weeks? Why, why?
So many questions that he couldn't answer. And he was so tired.
“Just stop bothering me guys, I have nothing to say.” Which was true in a way.
“Fine.” Eren said. He turned back to the bin of oats he had been checking, seemingly willing to honor his words.
Armin was surprised, and deeply relieved. They were going to give up so soon? He'd expected them to badger him longer. He was surprised to feel a small amount of disappointment. He supposed some selfish part of him craved the endless questions, wanted them to break down his barriers and relieve him of the burden he labored under, even though they didn't deserve to have to carry it.
Luckily for that small part of him, Eren wasn't finished.
“If you really don't want to tell us, we can't make you. But you're making us helpless to help you, and we know something's wrong. Just think about how you would feel if it were me or Mikasa in your shoes, and all you could see is that we were hurting, and we didn't trust you enough to let you in.”
Armin could imagine it, and it sent a shocking wave of guilt through him. Before he knew what was happening, his eyes had blurred with tears and his throat was choking on sobs, trying to hold them back. His hands shook, nerveless, and dropped the jar of pickled beets he'd been holding.
Mikasa moved lightning-quick and caught it, putting her arm around his shoulder as he sank to the floor, sobbing. Eren turned away from his oat bin, looking slightly guilty for causing Armin to break into tears, and barred the pantry door before rushing over to Armin's other side.
They waited silently, holding him, and let him cry it out. It was not a quick process; Armin had weeks of stress and grief bottled up inside him. At one point, as it began to taper down, it hit Armin that now he would have to tell them, there was no way out of it after this episode, and he began to hyperventilate. Eren gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and Armin fought to calm his breathing down, to just accept it, and won out. He was finally out of tears. His nose was clogged and he had a massive headache beginning, but he was ready to talk.
And so he did, for the next half hour. He started at the beginning, with Connie, and then even with Thalberg (he made them swear on their lives that they wouldn't take revenge before he did so, threatening to never speak to them again if he found a certain instructor had been murdered or had mysteriously disappeared).
They were interrupted by a pounding at the door at one point; Levi wanting to know if the slackers thought they could hide out forever. Mikasa simply opened the door an inch, gave him her scariest eyes, and told him “Go away”. Then she simply slammed the door in his face and barred it again.
Then they resumed again, despite the muffled angered shouts from outside the thick wooden door.
Armin told them about how alone he'd felt, especially when he went to Hermina. How even though he knew he'd made the right decision, he still couldn't help feeling sad, couldn't help doubting himself.
After all that, he felt unbelievably relieved. He was exhausted, and his head was killing him, but his own emotions weren't trying to rip him apart anymore. He was still sad. Now though, he knew it would fade.
As one, they stood up and unlocked the pantry door. No one was there; Levi had apparently given up. Wordlessly, they returned to their tasks. Eventually they began to talk of other things, of every day things, things that were once again a joy to talk about for Armin. This was punctuated by the occasional hug from Eren or Mikasa as they passed by him to shelve something or other.
Armin was once again sure that there would be a day when they could go outside the walls safely. There would come a day when they would all have children, and they would never have to fear for their safety, or that those children could be orphaned at any second, left helpless to be preyed on. They would build that world.