I'll try something from Eren's POV. Just some fluff. I'm not sure there is much of a point. Eren may most definitely be out of character here. It's almost midnight right now and I don't feel like editing it now. I might later. XD Enjoy anyways!

Eremin: Another Late Night

. . .

. . . . .

. . . . . . . . .

. . . Something's not right.

I awoke in a near painful haze, staring up a black ceiling. Or not a ceiling- the bottom of the top bed bunk. I was in the barracks. Looking out the window then, it was cloudy. Late night? Early morning? Why the hell am I even awake at a time like this? I hadn't a clue. My eyes felt heavy. They hurt. I closed them, rolled from my back to my left side and curled up, pulling the covers tighter around my body.

. . .

Something's not right.

My eyes couldn't hold the shape. A prickling restlessness had wormed it's way into my knee caps and calves. My memory couldn't hold the transition from lying down to sitting up. It was as though I had blacked out and were suddenly upright, kneading the heel of my palm into one eye and wiping dried drool away with the other. Bones creaked. Muscles wined. I yawned almost wide enough to pop my own jaw off. It was never this way before I joined the military. Since the activation of my titan abilities, my body has changed. Not just with the regeneration and being able to turn into one of those things, but they way I function day to day. For example, I run a higher body temperature now, almost like a constant, low grade fever. Hange kept asking me if I felt sick or faint, but I've been fine this whole time (in fact, I hardly get sick anymore because of it). Another change is that sunlight affects me like it would a titan. I have more energy on clear days and sleep like death when the sun goes down. I'm a morning person whereas I always slept in as a trainee. But being awake then, in the middle of a cloudy night, was miserable for me. I had been running on fumes, a fire burning with no wood or air at all. But going back to sleep? There was no way.

So what woke me up in the first place? A sound? Perhaps not. Other than Connie's snoring, I could hear a pin drop. A light? No, not that. Darkness invaded every corner of the room. A quick sweep around the room told me that everyone else was asleep, nestled in thin blankets, vivid dreams and on straw mattresses. Near the furthest wall, Bertholdt had slipped off the bed, twisted at the waist, and had his face smushed into the floor (We were either in for a really cloudy day or a really windy one). A nightmare? I couldn't remember- maybe or maybe not. Armin might know. He's always been a light sleeper. I scratched my scalp and turned to the form next to me-

And found no one. I had been slumbering fitfully in an empty bed.

I found myself suddenly saddened at that, even a little cold. Didn't Armin say he would be with me in about five minutes? Or maybe that was supposed to be a few hours ago. Ah, fuck it. The point is, he lied just so I would get to sleep. It's stupid really- Cutting off on your own time to rest, putting your well-being at risk. And for what? Some paperwork? Some new theory?

I clenched my jaw, feeling loose teeth press into my gums as though it would overcome the internal stew of pissy spite. It didn't.

In the past I might have approved. The faster we can kill these monsters and save what remains of humanity, the better. When Armin has been first accepted as Squad Leader Hange's new apprentice and assistant, there were no words for how proud I was for him. Someone plucked him from the bunch because he was special, his skills demanded. He had finally found his niche, found a way to be truly useful and to realize his own worth. I can still remember the look on his face: How bright those blue eyes lit up, that smile that damn near made me want to cry.

"Yeah! Yeah, that's what she said! I start tomorrow. I-I never thought something like this would happen. I. . . Can finally be useful."

And he got better when I didn't think it possible. Armin seemed to smile more, talk more, laugh more. He stood up for himself and wasn't afraid to take credit for his efforts. I never would have thought someone like that had been hiding in the small, timid, frightful Armin I had once known.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Eren. I can't today. I need to take this to the Squad Leader's office. But I should have time to be with you tonight. Don't worry, ok?"

But I was beginning to think it had gone too far. That he forgot that he was a person, not a tool. That he still needs to take care of himself because not all of us ask that he go beyond getting enough sleep and enough to eat.

"It's late. You go ahead and get some sleep. I'll be there in a few minutes."

That was just a few hours ago. For most of that day, I hadn't seen him with so much as a wink or morsel of bread.

It really pissed me off.

The cold floor against my bare feet was enough to ignite a steady throbbing in my right temple and the back of my head, but I got up anyways and padded over the the chest at the edge of the bunk bed. I tried to be quiet. Despite the occasional slide of a book or a uniform piece, there wasn't anything that would wake anyone. Just when I had given up on finding what I needed, my right hand clasped around a tube of solid, smooth wax. Seconds later, the left hand curled around a tiny box. I could feel two small solid lumps jingle inside. Not matches, but it would do. A few strikes and a pop later, I was staring down as a small, flickering teardrop of light. It was light and it was energy. Just the small pearl of fire was enough to perk me up a bit, though just a placebo. With a few footsteps across the wooden floor and a creak of the door hinges, I was gone.

The trek to Hange's office wasn't a new one for me. I didn't learn to read until later in life, so it's kind of a new skill for me. Without a translator of some sort, the written word was and remains a tough puzzle to crack, if not completely lost on me. More often than not, Me and the Squad Leader found ourselves seated at her desk discussing experiment results, new discoveries, and potential issues. It's thanks to her that I know what's going on with me now and how to meet the new needs my body has. I remember the nosebleeds were terrifying until she figured out it was high blood pressure and that I just need to stay hydrated. I guess I have more than one thing to thank her for. All these walls, with no distinction beyond corners and iron cones to hold torches, were as coherent as road signs to me.

Eventually I found myself at the top of one of the base's towers and staring at a wooden door. What I assumed were the archaic spelling for the Squad Leader's name was painted on the doorway. Even with the light in my hands, it was hard to tell. I checked the gap at the bottom, near the floor. A soft glow peaked out like a sheet on the floor. It was not a candle flame. A moonbeam, perhaps? It was the highest floor of the building, after all- I wouldn't have been surprised.

The door gave with just the softest press of my finger tips- not a single lock had been attended to before. And a quiet and seemingly untouched sight had been laid out before me.

The room felt smaller than I remembered. At the very least I could see better. Pearly, radiant light from a full moon poured in generously from a large glass window on the furthest wall. Two pairs of cabinets sat off the left. From what I remembered, one had been packed full with journals, reports and the like. The other housed pens, ink wells, candles, and papers, patiently waiting to be used. To the right, a large oak desk sat, cluttered with many of the aforementioned materials. All around the highest parts of the walls, bookshelves wrapped around, gaps found here and there. Floorboards creaked beneath my feet. On the ground a diagram had been splayed in a bed-sized sheet of paper. A sketch of a human or titular body had been drawn on in charcoal. Lines ran up and down the arms, legs, head and torso, almost like pathways, and dots covered nearly every inch. I frowned. Dad had shown me similar pathways, of nerves and veins and arteries. But none of them ever matched this. Strange needles had been stuck into some of these markings and strewn, unused, across the paper. It's best I don't touch this. Carefully, I flanked the edge. No disturbance. The air smelled of old books, of black tea and ink and oak. I almost didn't catch it- such a familiar smell was nothing to be paid much mind to.

But there was something that was- A lump curled at a second desk in front of the large window, from which no sound was made and a tuft of straw-colored hair sat upon.

The diagram had gone forgotten. With minds of their own, my feet carried me to the dainty figure in the chair. Armin slept unwarily at the desk- I knew he would be. The neck and back curved at unnatural slopes. Both arms lay on the paper of another humanoid sketch. The right hand held an ink pen and the left held the paper down, fingertips and the side of his dominant hand speckled black. More strange needles lay beneath the other. There was no cushion for his head, so the right side of his face had been squashed into the paper. A shallow breath had been drawn slowly through the button nose and out soft, thin, parted lips. His shoulder jerked once. He swallowed in his sleep. A shot glass and two bottles, smaller than water skins, one empty and the other half full, sat on the corner of the desk. He had been drinking holly again.

Dark circles hung beneath his eyes. The checks and eyes sank in. If I didn't know better, I would have though his skin paler than usual. My fingers found their way to a soft check. Warmth simmered there.

A fever.

Small, but there nonetheless. Armin had overworked himself again and though an excess of caffeine would fix it. Moreover, he seemed to think that it was ok to neglect himself in the wake of this project.

The thought pissed me off.

But I could scold him later. I bit down on my temper and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. In the blink of an eye, he inhaled sharply and sat up, peeled himself off the desk and whimpered at a rather sore neck and back. He swore, massaged the nape himself and rested his forehead in the other hand. "Fucking. . . God dammit. . ."

I finally spoke, maybe more harsh that I should have. "Morning, sleeping beauty."

Armin froze, the turned to me. I could practically hear his neck creak like an old, rickety ship. Hazy blue eyes fixated on it. The gears had already begun grinding together in his head, deciphering the situation and the reason for my presence. He squinted at me and wiped the corner of his mouth. ". . . Eren?"

"Yeah," I replied. "And who was it who said they'd come to bed soon?"

He didn't reply. Then his eyes widened, mouth flew agape, horror creased around the brow. "Oh, shit! Eren, I'm so sorry- ah!"

Just as soon as he had started to stand, his legs crumpled beneath him. I was glad to have been there to catch him. But this really was bad, it seemed. Buried in my chest and hanging in my arms, I could feel him shake.

"I-I'm sorry," he said, clinging onto my arms with a weak grip. "I'm feeling a little dizzy." He stood himself up. We at least had been holding onto each other's forearms at that point. "Just . . . don't worry. I'm fine, ok?"

I huffed. I wished I could yell at him beat it into his head that he needs to take care of himself better. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. He only wanted to to his best. I can't get mad at him for that. One more breath- I made it slow and easy in an attempt to calm down. "You're not fine," I finally answered. "You've been working yourself to the bone all of this past week. I know you haven't been sleeping or eating enough. You're frail enough as it is. Seriously- Can you try and not make it worse?"

"But I'm so close!" He pulled himself back up and looked me in the eyes- those hazed, weary eyes. "I'm so close to finding the meridian-"

"Look, you can worry about that later-"

"Eren, you have no clue how close we are." He scrambled for the desk again. "I swear, we just have to get the needle in the right place-"

And he stopped then. He took the paper he had been sleeping on and held it in shaking hands. His breathing cracked, trembled, and his eyes watered, catching tiny specks of the lunar light. I peeked over. The head and shoulders of the sketch, as well, as some of the words, had been missing. Something plopped softly on the paper.

". . . It's gone."

It? What is "it"?

"This was supposed to be another answer to beating them. . . I-I thought I wrote this down!"

Armin turned just a hair. Tears had welled up in his eyes, ran down and dripped off his chin and into the paper. Devastation and grief wrought every crease and muscle. He would get like that sometimes. Armin sometimes frets over small mistakes because he thinks that's all it takes for everything to go wrong, for humanity to be wiped out for good. He shoulders this responsibility like he's the only one who has to carry it. I tell him that's not true, that he doesn't have to go it alone or be the first to throw himself in harm's way for everyone else. I could get mad. I could yell about how he never learns or that he should just get over it and stop being a cry baby. I could have done it then or every day now. And that might be easier for me- just just get mad or write it off as Armin just being Armin.

I reached out to Armin. He turned away and spat out a sharp "no".

And that was when I saw it. In the soft glow of the moon, highlighting that troubled, porcelain face of his. . . Words and the top half of a human sketch had been stamped on the right side of his face, from the check to a little bit above the eye. He had fallen asleep in the wet ink. God, bless this boy. I would have laughed out loud if Armin wasn't ready to ball his eyes out. So I did what any loving partner would do. I took him in my arms and held on, let him cry it out. The paper crumpled between us. Salty water moistened the front of my bed shirt. He fought against my arms. No way was I letting up. This was and remains my partner- one of the people I love and care about the most. He need to know that he is not alone, that I don't care about whether or not he's invincible or perfect or if he has all the answers. If he needs me to tell him over and over again, I'll do it. If he needs me to tell him a hundred times, I'll do that and tell him a hundred more. I stroked the hair as lovingly as I could and gave the usual truth.

"Don't worry about it," I muttered. "Just take a deep breath. I don't care if you don't find all the answers right away. Personally I just want you to be healthy and happy."

"Eren-"

"Sssh." I held him a little more snugly than before. Mom did this for me, once upon a time. Back when I was young, too proud for my own good or for others to see me cry. If it didn't work for Armin, I'd be surprised. I pressed my lips to his forehead for good measure. I caught the wiff of musty books, ink, of Armin's signature scent. This is mine, in a way- My family, the bearer of dream. And if something belongs to you, you take care of it in whatever way you can. "It's ok. You don't have to be better than anyone else. You don't even have to be enough. Just be you, ok? I'd prefer it if you were taking care of yourself."

He wasn't having it at first. I just kept smoothing the hair on his hear. Gradually, his muscles loosened in my grip. His sobbing died. He repositioned his arms to hold onto my back and pressed the left side of his head to my chest, like a beloved blanket. "You right," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok. You don't need to apologize."

". . . My head hurts."

"Of course it does. You need some real sleep- not holly."

He closed in smaller around himself and held on tighter.

I pulled away and took his hand in mine. "C'mon. Let's go to bed."

Finally, he nodded. We left the diagrams, the needles, the room. He held on one of my hands with both of his. I kept the candle with me. Armin yawed behind me. I did the same. I had forgotten my own need for sleep in all of that. The leaden lethargy slowly crept up and crawled back to me. Fortunately we had gotten back to the barracks in a reasonable amount of time. I helped Armin out of the coat, boots and straps he wore and tossed them in the trunk. He forced out some words, something like a groan. "Wait. . . The notes. . ."

"What about them?"

"Need to. . . find them. . ."

Oh, those notes. I smiled. "Don't worry- you didn't lose them. We can take care of them in the morning.

He went down like a rag doll and didn't protest against the covers or logic.

The times when any of us are at any sort of peace are rare these days. This was one of them. From my side of the bunk, I drank in the sight of my partner's drifting form. There were no harsh lines of a troubled sleep or bent neck. No restless breath or airy promises of replenishment. Only the soft curves of a deeply relaxed face, the willowy strands of gold spun hair. The moonlight caught parted lips, uncreased eyes, the top half of a human sketch and some notes stamped on his face.

Something gnawed at the back of my mind for attention. Had I spoken sooner, he may not have heard me. ". . . Hey, Armin."

A beautiful blue eye cracked open and watched me.

"Promise me you'll take the day off tomorrow. Maybe you can just enjoy the weather or find a book to read.

He closed it again and gave an affirmative hum and nuzzled into the pillow. His breathing lengthened and even out. His shoulder twitched again. The eyes flicked beneath their lids. I couldn't help my grab on again and hold this boy- the love of my life- in my arms, to protect and cherish him, even if he wasn't aware of it.

Nothing was wrong.

I could finally sleep in peace.

-Epilogue-

"Mmm. . ."

"Morning."

"Hm? Oh, good morning. . . *yawn*. . ."

"Did you sleep good?"

". . . Yeah. Like a rock, actually. Thanks for taking me back last night."

"Thank me by keeping your word and taking a day off today. I meant it last night."

"Alright. I think I'll do that."

"Good. I'll tell Hange. Feeling any better?"

"Yeah. My headache is gone and I don't feel warm anymore. I probably just need to get something to eat now."

"That's what I like to hear. Get dressed and go do that."

"Don't need to tell me twice. But I have a question. . ."

"What is it?"

"You said you would tell me about the missing part of my paper. How was it saved again?"

"Oh yeah, that. . ."

"W-What is it?"

"Nothing, just, go ahead and check in the reflection of the window"

"Refl-. . ."

". . ."

"Oh my God!"

"Bahahahahaha!"

"Are you freaking serious?!"

"I totally am!"

"You were going to let me walk outside like that?!"

"I totally was!"

"You fucking- Whatever. I'm cleaning my face off before I eat."

"Wait, no. You gotta-"

"I know what it fucking says. Just let me go get cleaned up."

"Are you mad?"

"Yes I am! Seriously, I'm going now."

"No, don't-"

"Bye, Eren!"

"No- Ahahahaha. . . "

-AOT-

All done with that little blurb. Time for bed and to do all the college projects that have stacked up. XD

Good luck with finals, everybody! Leave a review, please! I'll see you all in another Eremin short!