"Armin... Armin." The voice was gentle; and while he knew that he should respond to it, he was far too comfortable - and the voice itself was low and warm. It lulled him back to sleep, and he felt secure. However, he then felt hands on his shoulders, and they were mighty cold and shaking him, albeit minutely. He opened his bleary eyes and searched for the source of his discomfort.

"Mikasa...?"

"You fell asleep on the bench. You should go back to your room."

His mind was lagging, but he slowly realized that he was, in fact, sitting on a bench in their dining hall. There was a crick in his neck from his uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, and it was quite heartily waking him up more quickly. Her hands remained on his shoulders, he noticed, and that was when he attempted to meet her gaze - but she was looking elsewhere, seemingly at nothing, as if to merely divert her attention away from him. He was careful with his words. He knew that if he pushed too hard, she would leave. She would feel trapped and resort to the one sure-fire method of avoiding his probing but caring questions.

"Why are you awake, Mikasa?"

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but Armin knew his friends well. Picking up such discreet movements was hard, but he had learned to look for them and anticipate them. Her hands tightened on his shoulders - but she didn't quite seem to realize that she had done so herself. No, her mind was caught on the sound of bones snapping, of blood squishing between skin.

But Armin didn't know that. Not those images, particularly, at least, but it was clear something was consuming her thoughts as her grip on him tightened once more, uncomfortably and almost painful.

Her hold went slack, and then she joined him at the table. Her movements were awkward, as if she didn't feel comfortable moving her own limbs. She sat close to him, their hips touching. Armin knew she wasn't one for such intimacy, and he was nervous to produce more words, more darts that could easily poke through her outer facade. Just one wrong toss could close her off, but he wanted to help her. Maybe she didn't want to talk; maybe that's why she remained silent, despite his question. Maybe, he considered, all she needed was this closeness, this security of a friend.

So he waited. She was contemplating something, her hands balling into fists and then loosening. He was far too caught up in his own thoughts and was surprised when Mikasa reached down for his hands and enclosed them within her own. She raised them in between their chests, his eyes following her movements before transitioning to her face. She was staring directly at him, eyes soft but glistening.

The words were a struggle to produce. They slipped out in a hoarse, subdued voice. "You can't die."

Mikasa's tough facade had crumbled. Unwillingly, tears had begun leaking, crawling lethargically down her cheeks. Armin sat in silence. This wasn't the Mikasa he knew; the Mikasa he knew wouldn't dare let her walls down like this. But he wouldn't sit back and let her dissolve alone. He nodded, and a comforting, "I won't," passed his lips. He thought it would help - and by all means it very well may have. But the tears came more furiously, and then she was fumbling, removing her hands from his and smothering him in a hug.

"Mikasa...?" Armin spoke, tentatively. He returned the gesture, rubbing her back as her tears seeped onto his shoulder.

She hesitated, balling up chunks of the back of his shirt in her fists. "I couldn't protect you. I - I couldn't move, and the Titan was coming for you. All I could do was watch, and I could hear your bones breaking and the blood and - and..." She shuddered and tightened her embrace, the images of her friend's lifeless body mangled under the foot of a Titan, of him struggling in its grip but being torn apart, limb by limb. But this wasn't real, Armin suddenly realized. This hadn't happened before.

"You can't die, Armin."

Her voice made a chill run down his spine. It was frail; she was pleading with him. He brought one hand up to stroke her hair, fingers layering in the thin, feathery strands. His friend was shaken up by a dream; and he knew Mikasa, knew that this helplessness and this fear didn't often come bubbling to the surface to leave her this mess of tears and emotions. Maybe 'shaken up' was an understatement, but the least he could do was comfort her. The least he could do was provide his friend the love and support and reassurance that she deserved.

"I won't die. It's all right, Mikasa."

A sob escaped her lips, and Armin felt his heart break. All of them, all of the soldiers suffered from this kind of mental anguish occasionally, some more often than others, some more violently and volatile than others - but Mikasa was strong, physically and mentally. She had a horrific past, one which both Armin and Eren wish they could mend and go back to prevent; but she was strong enough to not let it hinder her every decision and thought, to overcome it - she was stronger than most others. That was why, Armin conceded, it was hard to fathom that a dream had thrown her into this miserable state.

"I'm sorry," she began; and by the strength attempting to enter her voice, he could only assume she was apologizing for her breakdown.

"It's all right, Mikasa. You don't have to be strong all the time."

He wasn't sure how she had managed to keep up the charade upon first finding him. She was an utter mess of tears and mutters and shaking now, and he felt a horrible ache in his chest. She felt guilt over something not real and fear over something that could very well become a reality. They remained like that; and for how long, Armin wasn't sure. But steadily, her sobs subsided, and even more time passed before her grip went lax on the back of his shirt.

"Mikasa...?" Armin tentatively called.

There was no response; and with a relaxed sigh, he realized she had fallen asleep. He would have moved her, but he noticed how she had re-positioned herself in the past however long, bringing the side of her head to rest against his chest. He knew he was important to Mikasa, but it hit him then to see how much she truly cared for him. She had fallen asleep listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat; his breathing and him simply being alive had quelled and relieved the tension and fear coiling within her.

He had seen how utterly emotionless she had become with Eren's supposed death; and while he was consumed by joy and shock and disbelief at having his best friend back after he emerged from the Titan, he had heard Mikasa's cries after hearing Eren's heartbeat, knowing he was truly alive. He shouldn't have expected any less of an emotional downpour from her at seeing that Eren was truly alive. But in all honesty, he didn't think he would evoke the same turmoil from Mikasa at the prospect of his death; and despite the desire to will any and all anguish from her, Armin felt warmth spark to life in his belly, warmth that she cared so deeply for her weak, scrawny friend. His lips quivered, and he couldn't control a batch of his own tears from escaping. He swallowed thickly and tightened his hold, bringing her closer to him. His breath shuddered, so he buried his face into her hair; he needed to calm himself, to keep his heart calmed for Mikasa.

Extra

It was Eren who found them. It was nothing short of luck that the need to urinate had disrupted his sleep just before all the soldiers were to wake. Before exiting the room, he glanced at Armin's bunk to find it empty; and after relieving himself, Eren began searching for his friend. He found both of his best friends asleep at a dining bench, Mikasa atop Armin, arms loosely wrapped around his neck. The blond-haired boy rested his head on top of his crossed arms; but with the weight of Mikasa's head buried into his own, Eren didn't see how Armin wasn't uncomfortable.

Regardless, it brought a smile to Eren's face. He didn't know what had happened - and he wasn't certain if he wanted to know, by the blotchy spots and redness around their eyes - but... he was glad they could find comfort with one another. His feet glided to the bench, and he sat down across from them, leaning his head on a propped-up arm. He had a few minutes before the rest of the soldiers would be up; he could use a few minutes for watching, for this nothingness of their steady breathing, of the way that Mikasa's fingers twitched in her sleep, of how Armin leaned closer, unconsciously craving more of Mikasa's warmth and comfort.

A minute passed before Armin tensed and his eyes sluggishly opened. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but his questions clicked into place upon feeling the weight of Mikasa on him. He was momentarily shocked to see Eren sitting across from him, but his friend - hair mussed from sleep and eyes soft - had a finger placed in front of his gentle smile, signalling to his friend to remain quiet. Armin nodded, offering Eren the same kind gesture in return.

Armin's eyes felt heavy from crying, but his chest felt light. He cherished the bond that he had with Eren and Mikasa, and them merely being a part of his life riled a deep, meaningful sensation in his chest. What Mikasa had given him, the feeling of being important, of being loved and needed and of just his mere life being cherished carved something new within him, something raw and delicate. Something burst in the back of his throat, and he felt sobs threatening to rupture out of him. Whatever this feeling was, he didn't want to lose it. He didn't want to forget it. He couldn't - he wouldn't tempt it.

He felt Mikasa's fingers twitch lightly around his neck, and he swallowed the sobs down. He needed his head to be collected today, with whatever awaited them on their expedition. He didn't quite have a new reason to secure his safety - but it had been strengthened.

When Armin glanced back up, Eren was staring at Mikasa, expression neutral but relaxed. He wished he could have seen what Mikasa looked like, but he would suffice with her warmth seeping into him, with her hair tickling his cheek and her lax arms embracing him.

He simply wished he never had to move.

Author's Note: I originally wrote this in July of 2017, but I have a problem with doubting my work and being super critical with it, so I let it sit around in my drafts forever - until I decide to post it or delete it. The second chapter can for the most part be read as a stand-alone, but the ideas intertwine. Anyway, I love the tooth-rotting sweetness and fluff between these three guys. I hope you've enjoyed! If you have, please leave a review; and, of course, thank you for reading!