Mean, not meant. Reiner catches the distinction, grateful for it. He doesn't know what will happen to Gabi in that far-off future he will never see. Nor does he know what will happen to Galliard, short of meeting the fate that all who possess a Titan eventually do.
Back in their world, Reiner is doomed to die at twenty-three. Of course he won't see that future.
But there's more to it than that. He confessed as much to Armin, drunk and foolish as that was. "I'm not going to become that Reiner," he'd said. And Reiner doesn't want to be. He doesn't want to be a broken shell of a man kneeling in a basement, begging the person he would gladly chase forever to just kill him. He never wants to become that.
(There is a connection to be made, a correlation between 'not becoming that Reiner' and 'not seeing Gabi and Galliard's future.' But Reiner hasn't made it yet.)
Reiner inclines his head in acknowledgment, not quite trusting himself to speak. A rare occasion when he finds words difficult. Maybe that's for the best; he might start crying yet again, and he's done enough of that over the past few months.
But then Eren does something Reiner doesn't expect. Instead of reaching for Reiner's hand, Eren moves closer. Strong arms slide around him, embracing him. If it's a little stiff, Reiner doesn't notice. He returns the embrace at once, arms wrapping around Eren, holding him close. He turns his head, pressing his nose to Eren's hair. Breathing in what feels like the first full breath he's taken since he awoke to an empty house.
When was the last time he touched someone? How many days has it been…? Too late, Reiner realizes that he doesn't know. He wasn't keeping track; he never needed to before. How close was he to turning into stone?
His arms reflexively tighten their hold, squeezing Eren a little. Then he brings one hand up to the back of Eren's head, fingers brushing through long hair. Stroking it half-absently, the motion soothing.
"Not forever," he agrees. Acknowledging that, yeah, that's what he's done. "I didn't expect it, you know?"
Why would he? As far as Reiner knows, no one from their world has left before. To have two of the people from his home vanish one after the other…
Maybe Reiner would've taken it better if he weren't already wrestling with loss. Then again, maybe not. When it comes to finding himself in an empty home, there's no such thing as good timing.
Not forever, Reiner says. Eren takes that at face value. How do you process this weird sort of grief, anyway? Eren isn't sure. There's a friend he misses, back in Folkmore, whose loss in his life he has never dealt with. He's the one who left, technically, but that doesn't mean he doesn't think about Gideon. Does she miss him? Will she care that he's not there? No way to know.
"I know. How could you expect it?" he says, softly. "That happened to me a bunch of times back in Folkmore. Someone was there and then you just woke up and…they weren't there anymore. I wasn't as close to anyone there like you were with them, though."
That's true, but it doesn't mean he never wondered after any of them.
He turns his face into Reiner's neck, also breathing him in. He knows Reiner's scent well, the lingering ozone tang of what they are, that soap he likes, and just Reiner. Neither of them has to smell like blood anymore, like war and death. In Eren's mixed up memory he remembers the scent of the harsh laundry soap on their training uniforms, the leather and gas from the ODM. Reiner doesn't smell like that anymore either. Eren hasn't in years.
"You better not turn to stone on me," he says. It could be a threat, because he's Eren, though he doesn't mean it with teeth. Isn't that leaving, too? He doesn't really know what happens after you turn to stone. Is it like Annie in a crystal for years, aware enough to hear Armin's voice? Or is it like the quiet solitude of death? Is that what happens when you die? Eren still doesn't know. He can't imagine death is peaceful, when so much of it around him has been violent.
Eren is in less danger of becoming stone himself, because Armin wouldn't let him. Reiner wouldn't let him, either, if Reiner wasn't caught up in his own shit.
"You can call me," he says. "I'll come."
He doesn't quantify it. He was willing to follow Reiner into the segments even when he wasn't sure Reiner really wanted or needed his company. Eren is all in or he's radio silence. He never does anything by halves.
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Back in their world, Reiner is doomed to die at twenty-three. Of course he won't see that future.
But there's more to it than that. He confessed as much to Armin, drunk and foolish as that was. "I'm not going to become that Reiner," he'd said. And Reiner doesn't want to be. He doesn't want to be a broken shell of a man kneeling in a basement, begging the person he would gladly chase forever to just kill him. He never wants to become that.
(There is a connection to be made, a correlation between 'not becoming that Reiner' and 'not seeing Gabi and Galliard's future.' But Reiner hasn't made it yet.)
Reiner inclines his head in acknowledgment, not quite trusting himself to speak. A rare occasion when he finds words difficult. Maybe that's for the best; he might start crying yet again, and he's done enough of that over the past few months.
But then Eren does something Reiner doesn't expect. Instead of reaching for Reiner's hand, Eren moves closer. Strong arms slide around him, embracing him. If it's a little stiff, Reiner doesn't notice. He returns the embrace at once, arms wrapping around Eren, holding him close. He turns his head, pressing his nose to Eren's hair. Breathing in what feels like the first full breath he's taken since he awoke to an empty house.
When was the last time he touched someone? How many days has it been…? Too late, Reiner realizes that he doesn't know. He wasn't keeping track; he never needed to before. How close was he to turning into stone?
His arms reflexively tighten their hold, squeezing Eren a little. Then he brings one hand up to the back of Eren's head, fingers brushing through long hair. Stroking it half-absently, the motion soothing.
"Not forever," he agrees. Acknowledging that, yeah, that's what he's done. "I didn't expect it, you know?"
Why would he? As far as Reiner knows, no one from their world has left before. To have two of the people from his home vanish one after the other…
Maybe Reiner would've taken it better if he weren't already wrestling with loss. Then again, maybe not. When it comes to finding himself in an empty home, there's no such thing as good timing.
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"I know. How could you expect it?" he says, softly. "That happened to me a bunch of times back in Folkmore. Someone was there and then you just woke up and…they weren't there anymore. I wasn't as close to anyone there like you were with them, though."
That's true, but it doesn't mean he never wondered after any of them.
He turns his face into Reiner's neck, also breathing him in. He knows Reiner's scent well, the lingering ozone tang of what they are, that soap he likes, and just Reiner. Neither of them has to smell like blood anymore, like war and death. In Eren's mixed up memory he remembers the scent of the harsh laundry soap on their training uniforms, the leather and gas from the ODM. Reiner doesn't smell like that anymore either. Eren hasn't in years.
"You better not turn to stone on me," he says. It could be a threat, because he's Eren, though he doesn't mean it with teeth. Isn't that leaving, too? He doesn't really know what happens after you turn to stone. Is it like Annie in a crystal for years, aware enough to hear Armin's voice? Or is it like the quiet solitude of death? Is that what happens when you die? Eren still doesn't know. He can't imagine death is peaceful, when so much of it around him has been violent.
Eren is in less danger of becoming stone himself, because Armin wouldn't let him. Reiner wouldn't let him, either, if Reiner wasn't caught up in his own shit.
"You can call me," he says. "I'll come."
He doesn't quantify it. He was willing to follow Reiner into the segments even when he wasn't sure Reiner really wanted or needed his company. Eren is all in or he's radio silence. He never does anything by halves.