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Dec 19, 2025

Who painted the sky?

Chapter 28: The Power of Friendship

“Yes, dad, I'll call you when I get back.”

Annie presses the phone between her ear and shoulder, struggling to put her hiking boots on. Had she woken up only ten minutes earlier, she would have had time to properly get ready and call her father. Their chats aren’t usually that long anyway. Instead, she chose to sleep in– and now her room is a mess, her bed is unmade, and she’s pretty sure her socks aren’t matching.

“Yes, I'll be back before ten. It's a short hike,” she says, finally getting her second foot in.

“Your hikes are never short,” her father says pointedly.

Annie rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not that long either.”

She runs a hand through her hair, combing it with her fingers as she rummages through her drawer; where did she put that camera anyway? Hannah will kill her if she’s lost it.

“I need to hang up, I think I'm late.”

She can hear the man click his tongue almost dismissively, but for a second he says nothing.

“You know, I was cleaning the house last night.”

Annie narrows her eyes– oh, there’s the camera. On her nightstand, right under her hoodie, glistening a little in the precarious light.

“Yeah?”

She checks if the camera is charged, then drops it in her backpack.

“And I found this box of pictures from your last camp,” her father carries on.

Annie narrows her eyes, but says nothing.

Her father falls quiet for a second, as if he were looking at the pictures right now, reminiscing about the past. “I know you weren’t psyched about the idea of going back,” he eventually says, and his voice sounds genuine. “But I'm glad you did. You had such a good time last summer.”

Annie hums into the phone and sits on the bed. “Thanks, dad.”

“Are you having a good time?”

She bites her lower lip, staring blankly at the wall before her. She was having fun, until last week. It was a good camp, she could admit that. Until it all came tumbling down.

Annie drops her head in her hand. For a second, she wonders if her father knew everything all along, if he was in on this whole ordeal. But how could he? Even if there had been something going on last summer, they were never the kind of father and daughter to share everything. Would she have told him at all?

But his voice on the other side of the phone breaks her out of her thoughts, and for a second he sounds worried.

“Annie?”

Her eyes snap open.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm having fun.”

There’s an insistent knock on the door, then Hitch’s voice breaks through the silence. “Annie, you'll get us all killed if you're late!”

She sighs dramatically. “I really need to go,” she says into the phone.

She bids her goodbyes as she stands up and throws her bag over her shoulder, but then another thought occurs, and she stops herself short of ending the call.

“Actually, dad, could you send me the pictures?”

“Of course,” he says, yet his voice sounds a little surprised.

The pictures come through just as the door knob turns, but Annie is too engrossed in them to care. She clicks on the first one, a group picture with all the others, taken in front of the Big House, painted a hideous shade of green at the time. They’re all wearing the orange uniform, squinting at the camera as if the sun were blinding them. Her eyes slowly travel over her colleagues’ faces, noting all the tiny ways in which they’ve changed over the year. Hitch’s hair was pin straight in there, Reiner’s face fuller. Jean had a more normal haircut, yet Sasha and Connie look the same by his side, goofing off to the camera.

Then her eyes trail down, and her breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening.

There she is, a younger version of herself, crouching down in front of the others; she wears such a wide smile in that picture. And next to her, someone she can barely recognize– a boy with a mop of blond hair on his head, and a pair of black, square glasses, smiling sheepishly at the camera. A little to the side sits Mikasa, whom she recognizes at the first glance, for she hasn’t changed one bit. Neither of them is in uniform– Mikasa is draped in a black dress, her hair in two half piggy tails, whereas Armin is wearing a deep green shirt she knows all too well, and a pair of kakis.

And between them, arms draped on their shoulders, a boy she doesn’t recognize. His eyes are closed, but he wears such a big smile that it’s hard not to mirror it.

Yet Annie frowns. Why does he look so familiar?

The door is slammed open, snapping Annie out of her trance. When she looks up, she finds Hitch standing in the doorway, wearing a frown so deep she can only mirror it. Her camp shirt is as spotless as always, tucked into green leggings.

She parts her lips, probably ready to scold her, but Annie cuts her short.

“I’m ready,” she says. She raises to her feet, pockets her phone and throws her backpack over her shoulder.

She throws Hitch a look over her shoulder, and finds her glaring at her disapprovingly.

“Will you lock the door?” she calls as she steps out of the room.

Hitch sighs dramatically but does so nonetheless.

For a second she wants to wait for her, thank her for being patient. But then she finds herself standing face to face with the devil reincarnated.

Her eyes widen when they meet Armin's, whose eyes are equally wide, hiding storms behind dirty glasses. She presses her lips together, tightens her hold on her backpack straps, and peels her eyes away.

She’s about to start down the stairs when she hears him clearing his throat. She stops as if on command, pricks up her ears, waiting for whatever he's about to say. Her head turns almost instinctively, and she finds him standing at the top of the stairs, wearing a frown that doesn’t suit him. The bags under his eyes don’t suit him, either, and he looks worn out, as if he hasn’t been sleeping well.

A ping of guilt tugs at her chest– is she the reason behind all of that?

“Hi,” is all he manages to say.

Her heart nearly melts at the sound of his voice, however ragged. The effect he still has on her takes her a little aback.

“Hi,” she says back, averting her gaze.

Hitch jiggles her keys, dropping them in her bag, and starts down the stairs with rapid footsteps.

“She’s gonna kill us,” she laments.

They fall quiet as they descend the stairs, yet Annie’s awfully aware of Armin lurking behind her like a ghost. And a silent one at that. Had circumstances been different, she would have waited up for him so they could walk side by side, maybe hold his hand. She would have leaned closer as he told her about God knows what. Maybe she would have kissed him good morning.

She digs her finger-nails into the palm of her hand until it hurts, reminding herself that circumstances are not, in fact, different, and she can no longer do any of that. She can barely look at him without her heart aching in her chest. They’ve barely exchanged two words this entire week, resuming to only speaking the bare minimum, and nothing else than work.

But that was on her, wasn’t it? She's been avoiding him like the plague. Her anger washed away and turned into pain instead, her confusion only grew bigger. Yet every time he'd try to approach her, she’d deflect, she'd turn her back, avoid him at all cost, for she knew she could not stand the sight of him standing before her, spitting lie after lie as if it were second nature to him.

And yet, she found herself missing him most of the time. Missing his smile, and his hand in hers, and his kisses, always brightening her day, and his words, always caressing her ears.

The pictures her father's sent flash before her eyes.

All lies, she reminds herself. Every last one of his words.

When they make it outside, the kids have already gathered just in front of the door. They’re all wearing hiking equipment, which is a first for this camp really. Marie is giving them her usual instructing, not taking her eyes off of her flipchart, while Hannah’s going around distributing snacks to the kids. Her fellow volunteers are lined up, and the three of them silently join them. Luckily, neither Marie nor Hannah seem to notice the intrusion.

Pieck leans closer to her. “Is this your new thing?” she asks, a note of amusement in her voice. “Running late for every activity?”

Annie presses her lips together, bites back a remark, though she guesses she’s right. “It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose,” she mumbles.

“If you say so.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not.”

Pieck raises her hands above her head defensively, but doesn’t say anything.

“That should be it,” Marie concludes her speech. “If anything comes up during the hike, feel free to address your counselors."

And with that, they’re ready to go. Annie takes her designated spot at the very end of the group, closing the formation– her and Armin’s group is the biggest this week, so Reiner agreed to letting them close this time. She doesn’t necessarily mind, since she gets some distance from the rest of them.

Except that she’s stuck with a very quiet Armin for the entirety of the hike. He doesn’t even attempt conversation as they leisurely make their way towards the old bridge. As the kids start slowly walking onto the bridge and to the other side of the river, where the hike officially begins, Annie finds herself stealing a glance or two at him. And yet he remains quiet, his eyes glued to the kids.

Normally, he would turn to her around this time, and strike up some conversation; he’d grace her with one of his smiles, maybe reach out for her hand.

But he doesn’t.

In some weird, twisted way, Annie finds herself wishing that he would. That he’d just keep talking, attempt to make things right. But he’s been trying all week, she is the one who kept pushing him away. What right does she have to expect anything from him now? Yet the thought that he’s given up on her so easily makes her heart hurt.

Annie’s snapped out of her thoughts by one of the kids, tugging at her sleeve. It’s the curly haired boy, looking up at her with big eyes.

Annie attempts a smile.

“What is it–” she flicks her eyes down to his nametag, “ – Andy?”

Making the kids wear nametags might have been the best decision she’s made all summer.

“How much longer is this hike going to take?”

Annie narrows her eyes. “We just got started.”

His face contorts into a mix of disappointment and anguish. “But how long is it going to be?”

“We’ll get back around nine.”

She looks up just in time to see Hannah usher them onto the bridge. Most of the group has already gathered on the other side.

She’s about to urge him to just go, but, when she looks back at Andy, she finds him looking rather pale, eyes blown wide and lips pressed in a tight line, as if trying to keep them from trembling. He’s fidgeting with the hem of his purple shirt.

Annie gestures for Armin to go on ahead of them, and he gives her a little look, as if asking if she’s got this. She only nods. Then, as soon as he leaves her side, she crouches down to the kid’s level.

“What is it? Are you not feeling alright?”

“It’s not that,” he mumbles, sinking his chin.

Annie tilts her head just enough to catch his eyes. “Then what is it?”

The boy whips his head around as if checking if there’s anyone there to hear them; there’s not. The only one left on this side of the bridge is Hannah, who must have caught on to what’s happening, for she keeps a safe distance. She doesn’t rush them, regarding them with a kind smile.

Andy gestures for Annie to come closer, so she does, and he cups his hand around his mouth as if afraid somebody is going to hear him.

“I don’t really like hikes,” he whispers.

Annie bites her lower lip, trying to fight off a smile. “You don’t?”

The little boy shakes his head thoroughly.

“You know, I didn’t really like them at first either,” she says, her voice as low as his.

Andy’s eyes widen a little. “But you work here,” he says.

“I do. I got used to them.”

He narrows his eyes. “How?”

“Well, for one, the view is really pretty,” she shrugs.

The little boy turns his head to the side a little, as if wanting to make sure. Annie follows his gaze, to a little group of trees, so tall they almost break the sky with their crowns. On one of the higher branches of one of them sits a squirrel, leisurely munching away on its nuts. If she listens really closely, past the chatter of her colleagues, she can almost hear the rustle of a waterfall.

“It is quite pretty,” he says at last.

Annie smiles, though the kid doesn’t look very convinced yet.

“My friends helped, too,” she says.

The boy frowns. “So you got through it with the power of friendship?”

She has to try really hard not to roll her eyes at him. “My first hike was terrible, you know,” she continues. “My feet hurt so much and I was so sweaty.” The corner of her lips pull up as she reminisces over it, memories from that very first week rushing back to her in such vibrant colors. “Armin even tripped on thin air a couple times, I had to hold onto him to make sure he wouldn’t break his neck.”

Andy snorts. “I thought you guys didn’t like each other.”

Annie drops her gaze and sighs. The kid sure has a sharp tongue. But she has to remind herself that he is just a kid, of course he has no filters. She runs a hand through her hair, scratching her scalp with her nails enough for it to sting.

“We’ve had our differences,” she says. “But at the end of the day, we'd always help each other out. The whole point of camp is that, no matter how hard it gets, friends stick together.” She gestures towards the other side of the bridge, where the rest of the group is waiting. “Your friends are over there, waiting. They’ll stick with you when it gets hard or you fall behind.”

He fists his hand over the handle of his backpack, pouting slightly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she nods.

“What if they get mad I hold them back?”

“They won’t get mad.” She shakes her head. “If you fall behind, they’ll wait up on you. And you have us, too, we won’t let you get lost or anything.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

Andy pouts, staring at his boots as if considering her words. Eventually, he nods slightly.

“Okay.”

Annie’s face softens. “Okay? Do you wanna join the others?”

The boy nods, but says nothing.

“Alright then.”

When she goes to stand up, Andy reaches for her hand, his tiny fingers wrapping around her palm, but doesn’t say anything. Annie’s stuck speechless for a second, unsure of what to do, but then he gives it a little squeeze, hoping that it would be somewhat reassuring. She tugs at his hand, urging him towards the bridge. Hannah gives her a little proud smile as they step onto the bridge, and she finds herself mirroring it.

She doesn’t rush him as they cross the flimsy bridge, for he clutches at her hand for dear life, his other hand hovering in the air as if looking for support, but there’s ultimately none to be found.

When they do eventually make it to the other side and hop off the bridge, the other kids cheer for Andy. He blushes a little, then hurries to let go of Annie’s hand and join the others as they flaunt over how well he’s done. Annie finds herself smiling at the scene, and then down at her hand, too. It’s still warm, a little red where he’s held onto her.

There’s the creak of wood and stomp of boots on dry land, and soon there’s a hand on her shoulder. When she looks up, she finds Hannah smiling so wide it almost splits her face in two.

“That was really good, Annie! Good job!”

Her face warms a little, but then her own lips pull up in a smile. “Thanks.”

“Come on, let’s not keep them waiting.”

They join the others and regroup, then take off once again. Annie retrieves the camera from her backpack and snaps a picture of the kids walking up the pathway. She squints a little at it before deeming it decent. She lets the camera hang from her neck and buries her hands into her pockets. Next to her, Armin does the same.

“What was the problem?” he asks, and only now does she register his eyes on her.

She doesn’t meet his gaze, for she knows she couldn’t hold it. Instead, she tries to act as nonchalant as possible, shrugging as if it were nothing.

“He doesn’t like hikes,” she says simply.

Armin hums, and for a second falls quiet. Then, “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

Annie snorts, and rolls her eyes. “What, just because you tripped on thin air once or twice?”

When she finally looks at him, she finds herself staring right into his eyes, deep as ever and a little unfocused, as if he were lost somewhere in time. And yet he’s smiling, that slight, kind smile he always graced her with, the one reserved only for her.

Her face warms up for a second, but then venom makes its way up her throat. She arches an eyebrow at him.

“Or did that happen more times than I remember, too?”

His eyes widen slightly, his smile completely falling off. Armin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He averts his gaze fully, shaking his head briefly.

“This was really nice for a second,” he mumbles.

“What, am I wrong?”

Armin presses his lips together in a tight line, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, and for a second he looks really small. Annie narrows her eyes, pressing her nails into her palm until it stings. When Armin finally meets her eye, there’s a storm behind his eyes that makes her heart churn. Is she the reason for it?

“It’s happened once before,” he eventually says, his voice low.

“Of course it has,” she scoffs.

She kicks the dirt with the sole of her shoe. She knows that much now. It doesn’t make the pang of betrayal in her chest less heavy.

“I can tell you about it,” Armin says, his voice sounding almost desperate. “If you’ll let me.”

For a second, she’s tempted to take him up on that. The pictures her father’s sent flash before her eyes again; the image of him, so much younger, sitting by her side so casually; the way she leant into him with such a wide smile. And for a second she really wants him to tell her, to explain everything.

But then again, he’s had an entire summer to do so, and never did as much as mention it. Does she have any guarantee he’d even tell her the truth?

So, she shakes her head. Armin’s eyes widen slightly, his lips parted as if he were ready to speak just a minute before, but then he presses them together in a thin line, nodding his head as he looks away.

He doesn’t say anything else, and neither does she. Knowing he’s this close to her is excruciating enough.

The first half of the hike goes by excruciatingly slowly.

But when they make it to the top and take their usual lunch break, Annie lets out a sigh of relief as Armin sits far away from her, all the way across their makeshift picnic blanket. And yet, as she munches on her cheese sandwich, she cannot shake the feeling that he’s watching her. She has to force herself not to check.

“I have extra cucumber slices if anyone wants any,” Pieck announces, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sasha launches forward and grabs the tupperwear. “Consider me sold!”

Jean’s shoulders fall, dramatically so. “Hey, I wanted some of that!”

Pieck is quick to grab the tupperware and place it in the middle of the blanket, just as Marie shoots them a glare from her own blanket a few feet away. “There’s plenty for everyone!”

Annie scoffs at their bickering, shaking her head a little. “Don’t mind if I do.” She grabs a slice herself, surprised with how well it goes with her sandwich.

She’s halfway through her second slice when a shadow casts above her.

“Miss Annie?”

When she looks up, she finds Andy standing above her, wearing a pout. She tilts her head.

“What is it?”

The rest of the kids are leisurely having their lunch, chatter filling the little valley. And yet here he is again.

“My sandwich is really soggy.”

Annie frowns. “What’s wrong with your sandwich?”

His pout somehow only deepens, but he doesn’t say anything. She raises an eyebrow, not sure what he wants her to do.

“Andy,” Armin calls, drawing both of their attention. He’s holding up another sandwich, wrapped in tin foil. “I have an extra one if you want it.”

The kid beams and shimmies over, grabbing the sandwich and throwing a low thanks over his shoulder before joining the rest of the kids.

Hitch snorts, leaning back on her hands. “Man, you have some picky kids this time around.”

Annie shakes her head slightly. “You can say that again.”

“They’re just young,” Amrin says.

“They're the oldest group we’ve had,” she argues.

He frowns, holding her eye. “They’re still young. They’re twelve.”

She frowns at him, a remark forming on the tip of her tongue, but Pieck claps her hands together.

“I am so glad you guys are talking again!” she beams, though there is a note of irony in her voice that Annie doesn’t quite like. “No offense, but this week has been pathetic.”

Annie presses her lips together.

Armin huffs out a breath, averting his eyes. “Right. Thanks.”

She leans over to pat his shoulder. “Any time.”

Silence befalls them as they finish off their lunches, and then Sasha grabs her bag and produces a pack of Uno.

“Anyone wanna play?”

They only play two rounds before Marie calls it a break and ushers them to get ready to leave. They hurry to clean up and pack their things, and soon enough Annie finds herself standing behind the group once again, closing the formation in the way she's seen Reiner do.

They start off slowly, until the kids fall back onto their pace. Annie completely zones out at some point, letting the birds’ chirping caress her ears into oblivion. The mountain is nice, it’s always been nice. She soon finds herself drowning into its sounds, and its colors, countless shades of green and brown blending together all around her. She could let it swallow her whole. The camera she’s been given doesn’t even begin to do it justice.

And then there’s a yelp, snapping her out of her day-dreaming. Annie turns around in an instant, finding Andy crouched over a few steps down the road– how has she passed by him without seeing him?

She frowns. As she gets closer, she sees that the kid's shoulders are rising and falling irregularly, and he is panting as if breathing hurts.

“Andy?”

When he raises his head, his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated, and there's a look behind them that makes a shiver run down her spine.

She hurries to get by his side, brings a hand to his back and gently runs circles over the cloth of his jacket in an attempt to calm him down. It does little to help.

“It's okay, you’re okay," she says, but she doubts he is.

She scans his face briefly, looking for any indication of what could possibly be wrong. His face is getting redder by the second, as if he was having trouble breathing, and his chest heaves uselessly.

And then, Annie freezes. What is she supposed to do? Think, she berates herself.

She shakes her head, trying to pull herself together. What’s wrong with him?

She looks back towards the group, hoping that they noticed their absence and stopped. Her heart is pounding in her ears, threatening to jump out of her chest any moment now, and her ears ring. The wind blows softly, and nature seems to stop around them altogether.

But the dirt road is deserted.

Deserted, save for one person wandering up the path.

“Annie?” comes his voice, and she thinks she's never been so happy to hear it before. “Is Andy with you? Are you guys alright?”

Annie perches herself up, waving him over.

“I think he's having an asthma attack!”

Armin appears next to her in no time. He rummages through his backpack, a frown between his brows.

“Do you have an inhaler?” she asks, trying to keep her voice equal.

“Yes, just give me a minute.”

“I don't have a minute,” she hisses.

Armin's frown deepens, but he says nothing. He produces an inhaler out of his backpack, and she snatches it out of his hand.

The boy whimpers, clutching at the fabric of his jacket.

“Okay, hang on.”

Annie grabs his face, angles it towards her, and forces the inhaler into his mouth, pressing the button.

The boy's shaking stops at once.

Andy takes in a shaky breath, closing his eyes. Annie presses the inhaler again, letting go of his face as his breathing calms down.

“Thank you,” he mutters, unclenching his fist.

His breathing is a little strained, and voice a little throaty. Annie hums slightly, patting his back.

“It's okay, you’re okay now,” Armin says, and she's not sure if he's talking to her or the kid. “Take your time.”

They sit there for a while, until Andy's breathing calms down. Annie breathes a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders relax.

“Good thing you came for us,” she tells Armin.

His eyes widen slightly, as if he wasn't expecting any gratitude from her. He slowly turns to her, his expression melting into a smile.

“Yeah. I suppose this could have ended a lot worse.”

Annie hums. The possibility creeps into her mind before she can stop herself, but she swats it away. This is not the time. They avoided it, anyway.

She shakes her head slightly, and Armin presses his lips together. He leans closer to Andy, patting his shoulder.

She can’t help overhearing their conversation as she rises to her feet, dusting her pants.

“Are you alright now?”

“Yeah,” comes the kid's strained voice.

Something's not right. Annie squints at the empty road ahead of her, deserted of any life save for a squirrel.

“Do you want some water?”

She snaps her head towards the boys just as Andy downs Armin's water bottle.

“Armin, where are the others?”

He goes rigid then. His eyes are wide when they meet hers.

“What?”

Annie can feel her blood boil with every passing second.

“The others,” she repeats. “The group we were with? Where are they?”

Armin scatters to his feet, looking over her shoulder down the road, his eyes searching– for what, she’s not sure; there’s nothing there anyway.

“I– I thought they would have stopped by now.”

She frowns. “What do you mean, you thought? Didn’t you tell someone when you wandered down here?”

“No,” he says, his voice small. “No, I panicked, and I– I just–”

“What, you panicked and you forgot to think?”

She only realises how loud she’s being when Armin flinches, squeezing his eyes together for a second.

Annie turns on her heels, fisting her hair between her fingers. This is not the time to get angry, she tells herself. And yet–

“I think I remember the way back,” comes Armin’s voice, low and unsure.

She takes a deep breath in, then lets it out through her nose. This will have to do.

“Okay.”

She turns around, meeting his gaze. His lips are pressed together, and she finds herself doing the same. But there’s a sort of determined look in his eyes, one she knows all too well, letting her know that he'll find a way.

Then, her eyes glide down to the kid, now standing by Armin's side. He's looking between them like they were two lunatics, his lower lip trembling slightly. They cannot afford the kid having another asthma attack.

“Are we lost?” he says, his voice squeaky.

Annie hurries to reassure him, at the same time as Armin says, “No.”

She locks eyes with him for a second. “We just have to follow the red path, right?” she asks, recalling Marie's indications from their training hike.

A glint passes Armin's eyes. “Right.”

“Okay. Okay, we'll do that.”

“Oh, my God,” the kid whines, “we are lost!”

Armin turns to him with a kind smile on his face. “We're not. We'll find the others in no time, you'll see. We'll catch up to them by their next stop.”

“What if we don’t?”

His voice sounds a lot shakier than Annie would have liked.

“We will,” she insists. “You have to trust us on this one.”

Andy presses his lips together, looking between the two of them as if they were some freaks who escaped from the circus. She guesses they do look the part.

“You guys don’t even trust each other,” he cries.

Annie swallows, pressing her lips together so tightly that they sting. Armin gives her a look, something between embarrassment and guilt swimming in his eyes. But there’s something else there, something of the likes of pain, the kind of look generally present on an innocent culprit’s face. He opens his mouth, his fingers twitching by his side as if he wanted to reach out for her, but he ultimately doesn’t. When he looks back at Andy, Annie feels her heart sink.

She wants to tell him that that’s not true, that she does trust him, that she would have given him her heart if he asked– but she doesn’t dare. She doesn’t dare utter the words, doesn’t dare look him in the eyes. What if he dropped it again? Could she withstand that?

“We can do this,” Armin says, snapping her out of her thoughts.

While his voice sounded confident, there’s something in the way he taps his fingers on his side that doesn’t look very convincing.

“We just have to follow the red path. And stay together,” he adds, stealing a glance at Annie.

Annie holds his eye for only a second, her lips pressed together tightly. She wants to believe him so badly. She wants to believe that, at the very least, he would not lie to a scared child.

She swallows past the lump in her throat and nods shortly. “Right. Right, we’ve got this.”

The kid looks between the two of them with eyes blown wide, and for a second she fears they’ll pop out of his orbits. But eventually he nods, albeit reluctantly.

They start down the path they’d been following with the group, slowly as Andy finds his pacing again. Annie wants to tell him to hurry, to argue that they will never get anywhere if he’s that slow, but she bites back on it. That’s the last thing they need right now, fighting with a frightened kid in the middle of a forest.

She keeps an eye out for the red triangles with little white circles in them, but they’re not as frequent as Marie said on that first hike. Or at least she doesn’t see them all.

Armin seems to know what he’s doing though, for he walks ahead of her so naturally, his step calculated. She manages to tune out Andy’s whining, walking a few steps behind the two, taking in their surroundings, and–

Wait, haven’t they passed that rock before? Her step falters, and then she stops altogether, eyes glued to the rock, to the little sign painted right in the middle of it. She definitely remembers seeing it before, nestled by an old tree on the side of the pathway, moss overtaking its right side.

She snaps her head to Armin, who’s already had the sense to stop. He regards her with a frown.

“What is it?”

“We’ve been here before.” She points at the rock, and Armin squints at it. “We’re going in circles.”

“We’re doomed!” the kid laments.

But Annie doesn’t pay him any mind, scowling at Armin instead.

“You said you knew what you were doing.”

“That can’t be right,” he mutters, inspecting the rock. “It can’t be–”

She snaps. “Oh, so you’re calling me a liar now?”

“What? No!” He scowls at her, which only makes her frown deepen. “But I’ve been following the path, we couldn’t have been walking in circles.”

“Except that we have been.”

“Maybe it’s just a similar rock,” he offers, though his voice is a notch too high-pitched. “We should get going.”

And he turns to leave, but Annie doesn’t budge.

“Maybe we should abandon the path and just try to make it out of the forest,” she reasons.

Armin stops in his tracks, but doesn’t turn around. Silence befalls them, and for a second she can almost swear that she hears the buzz of the highway. An idea springs to mind then.

“I’m sure we can hitch-hike our way back to camp if we make it to the highway.”

Armin finally turns back to her with a frown. “Or, maybe, we should just follow the path Marie showed us,” he says pointedly.

She presses her lips together, digging her nails into her palms. She wants to fight him, to tell him that he’s just getting them lost into the forest. It’s already getting late, the setting sun painting the trees orange, sending shadows over them. They have no time to waste, and they cannot be spending the night in the forest.

But before she can say anything, Armin sighs profusely, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks at her with pleading eyes, but she stands her ground.

Eventually, he sighs.

“It’s not the same rock, Annie,” he says. “Let’s just go.”

And he turns to leave. Andy does the same, his shoulders slouched forward. Annie takes a hesitant step towards the two of them, but then she takes another look at the rock.

“I just know that it’s the same rock. My memory is not that shitty,” she says, hoping that it would at least make him stop.

And it does. Except that, when he turns back to her, he’s wearing such an angry expression that it makes her take a step back.

“Oh, really? Because last time I checked, you forgot a whole damn summer!”

Annie’s eyes widen, her heart stinging at the comment.

“You’re not seriously blaming that on me.”

Her voice comes out barely above a whisper, but she knows he heard her, for he takes a step closer, fists clenched by his sides.

“I’m just saying that you’re not exactly known for your memory. So maybe you should stop fighting me and–”

“And you think I like this?” she snaps. “You think I fucking wanted this? Not being able to remember my own past, my own life!”

Armin freezes in his tracks, eyes blown wide and mouth a little agape, but he doesn’t say anything, looking at her as if she’d completely lost it, and maybe she has.

Andy looks between the two of them, his lower lip trembling slightly. There’s a sting behind her eyes, and it’s getting harder to swallow, but her heart hurts so much that she needs to clutch at it. Not that it does anything to help.

“You must think that I’m having such a good time, going around with no memories! Oh, look at her, she can’t remember her summer fling! So fun!” She throws her hands in the air. “It’s not! It sucks! There are entire parts of me that I simply cannot remember and I know there’s something missing, I can feel that there’s something missing, and I so desperately want it back, I want me back, but there’s nothing I can do about it!” A tear rolls down her cheek, fat and wet and hot. She wipes it away, only for it to be followed by another one. “So you can be pissed about that, but you don’t get to blame it on me.”

Annie can’t stand to even look at him, at those big eyes that are slowly filling with pity, and that guilty look behind them. The sight of it makes her throat fill with bile. Why are his eyes, once looking at her with so much love and adoration, now regarding her with so much pity?

No, not pity, for it has long changed into grief. As if he were the one that lost everything that day. As if he were the one who had to suffer the consequences, to adapt to living with a damaged brain. Even looking at him now makes her blood boil.

His hand comes up to her shoulder, making her flinch.

“Annie, that’s not–”

She slaps his hand away.

“Fuck off,” she spits. “Just shut up already.”

To his grace, he does. He lets his hand fall and bites his lip, but he says nothing, casting his eyes down. Annie brings a hand over her mouth, swallows her tears, then she wipes her eyes and her cheeks.

Taking a deep breath in, she says, “I’m going to find that highway and get out of here, whether you’re coming with me or not.”

His eyes widen then, and he snaps his head up. “We are not splitting up,” he says, and his voice sounds like an ultimatum.

As if he had any right at all to give her any ultimatums. “I’m done chasing red freaking triangles, Armin! They’re not getting us anywhere!"

“And how are you planning on getting to the highway?” he shouts back, taking a step towards her.

But she doesn’t back down, staring him right in the face.

“What are you going to do, just wander through the forest until you find it?”

Annie clenches her fist, digging her fingernails into her palms until they start stinging. “Well, that sounds a lot more useful than walking in circles up here!”

She spins on her heels, turning her back to him at last, and starts down to the forest. Andy meets her gaze with such big eyes, denoting confusion, but eventually he walks next to her, albeit hesitant.

“Annie.”

Armin’s voice sounds a lot like a warning, but she cannot stand the sight of him, she cannot bear to be around him a moment longer. And if she listens really closely, she’s almost sure she can hear the highway down south.

But when she’s about to enter the forest line, a hand clasps her arm. His hold is tight, burning through her flesh, and she finds herself freezing in her tracks, her eyes widening.

“Annie, have you gone nuts?!”

She spins around then, so fast that it makes Armin drop his hand. “Don’t touch me!”

His eyes widen, his face falling in a sort of shocked expression.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” she spits, venom rising up her throat. His lips part, but before he can say anything, charm her with his stupid words, she adds, “You lost that privilege weeks ago.”

But when she goes to resume her walking, her foot catches in something. Her eyes widen and her breath catches, and for a split second she’s falling face-first.

A ring protrudes her ears when she hits the ground, and her vision goes black, but for a second she thinks she’s fine. Then–

A little yelp escapes her lips as pain shoots through her knee, and up her leg, spreading through her entire body.

It's Andy's shrill of horror that makes her come back to her senses, immediately followed by Armin's voice. Although it sounds so panicked that she finds herself frowning at it.

“Annie?!”

She pushes herself up on her hands, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to get her eyes used to the sting.

“I'm fine,” she wants to say. But when she looks down on herself, the words die on the tip of her tongue, and her breath catches in her throat. Is that–

She brings her hand closer to her eyes, squinting at it, hoping that her eyes are playing her.

But they’re not, that is blood.

But there’s no wound on her palm.

Her pulse quickens, her heart beating against her chest rapidly as her eyes travel down, looking for the source of it.

And when she finds it, a sudden shrill sneaks past her lips. Bile raises in her throat as she stares at her knee, at the skin cracked open and the blood gushing out of it, soaking her skin.

What has she done?

Before she has time to fully process it, her face is engulfed in something warm and spun away from the sight. She’s met with Armin’s eyes, blown wide with worry, and she finds herself freezing under his gaze. She tries to avert her gaze, to check her knee, but he holds her face in place, not letting her see.

“It's better if you don’t look,” he says, a foreign kind of urgency in his voice.

Yet it sounds gentle, oh so gentle.

Tears well behind her eyes, and she’s not sure if it's the pain or his proximity causing them.

“Don’t touch me.” But her voice comes out strained, broken, drifting off towards the end.

Armin swallows, hard, as if her words stung. She hopes they did. She wishes she hadn’t said that.

For she doesn’t mean it, not one bit. She aches to be closer, to nestle herself in the crevice of his chest and next to his heart, to lose herself in his warmth.

But he doesn’t let go.

“Let me take care of it.”

She shakes her head, trying to break away from his touch. “No.”

“Annie–”

She shakes her head again and again, grabbing his wrists and trying to peel them away, but he doesn’t relent, mumbling something about needing to nurse her wound, but she barely hears him through the ring in her ears. Are her cheeks getting damp?

“No, no–”

“Please, Annie! You don’t have to talk to me ever again, you don’t even have to look at me, that’s fine, but please, please, just let me take care of your knee.”

A sob escapes her lips. When has she gotten so pathetic?

“I don't want to never talk to you again,” she cries.

She’s not sure if it's the adrenaline talking or the spell of his hands on her skin, but she carries on.

“Can't you see how much this hurts?” A sob interrupts her speech. “Can’t you see that?”

Armin's face morphs into such a pained expression, for a second she thinks it will just break into tiny pieces.

“I am so, so sorry, Annie,” he mutters. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell me?” She swallows another sob, desperately wiping at her eyes. “You must have known I wouldn’t react well to being led on. So why didn’t you just tell me?”

His lips part, yet no word comes out, as if he's run out of them. He drops his gaze, and his hold on her face weakens.

“I thought I just…” he swallows, hard, and then he squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “I guess I would've rather have you hate me than forget me.”

She blinks, once, twice, trying to make sense of the absolute nonsense he's spitting. And then a laugh escapes her lips. A broken sound, no different than a cry, but she wants to believe it’s a laugh.

“I would have rather done neither.”

When he meets her gaze, his own eyes are welling with tears, and he's biting down on his lower lip, probably trying to stop it from trembling.

“I–”

But she doesn’t let him finish, for she fears that, if she doesn’t speak now, she'll never have the chance to let the words out.

“My heart hurts for you, and I just need it to stop.”

Armin’s eyes widen, and his lips part, but no word comes out. Yet a glint passes his eyes, and a first tear rolls down his cheek. He caresses her cheeks, wiping the tears away. But it soon proves futile, as new ones replace them in no time.

Annie attempts to say something, but when she opens her mouth, the only thing that comes out is a pathetic little whimper.

“I can explain, I’ll tell you everything. If you’ll let me.”

She wants to shake her head, but when his eyes meet hers, she finds herself frozen in place. Her walls crumble under the intensity of his gaze, his eyes searching hers so thoroughly, so intensely, and for a second she can feel all his pain and sorrow. It’s as if he were pouring them all directly into her very soul, and for a second she thinks they’ve never been more connected than right now.

Her eyes fill with new tears, but he wipes them all away. She finds it in herself to nod. Armin’s eyes widen slightly. He drops his head, letting out such a long sigh, like she’s just taken a great burden off his shoulders.

When he looks at her again, he’s wearing such a relieved smile. “Okay. Okay.”

He averts his gaze to her knee, his lips pressing together as he examines the wound, yet he doesn’t let her see it.

Armin’s voice is gentle when he speaks. “Let me take care of this now, okay?”

She nods again, and then the warmth of his hands on her face is gone. She finds she misses it immediately.

Armin unzips his backpack and produces a first kit aid. Annie adjusts herself, finding a more comfortable position, though that proves rather difficult. Her eyes lock with Andy's when she switches again, and she freezes at the sight.

He's watching her with such big eyes, tear-stains staining his cheeks, and his lips are silently moving, as if he were saying a prayer. As if the only thing that could get them out of this mess now was divine intervention.

She clears her throat, taking in as much air as her lungs will allow. And when she calls his name, the boy flinches.

“Andy, I need you to do something for me.”

She can sense Armin’s gaze on her, yet she keeps her attention on Andy. She switches again, grunting when a new wave of pain shoots through her leg, and fishes her phone out of her back pocket. It’s cracked, but it still turns on.

She thrusts her hand forward. “I need you to take this and call Hitch.”

The boy frowns at her, looking between her hand and her face.

“And I don’t think you'll get any signal here, so you might have to climb a little. But don’t venture too far.”

Andy reluctantly nods, and takes the phone from her extended hand.

“What should I tell her?”

It's Armin that answers. “Tell her that we got lost. Tell her that we're right at the entrance of the forest, right next to a boulder.”

“What if there are more boulders?”

Armin exchanges a look with Annie. She narrows her eyes, trying to recall if there are supposed to be more, yet she’s not very sure. Her head is spinning, and she has to focus extra hard for her brain to cooperate.

She knows there’s one where they usually take their last break, though it’s much larger than this one, big enough to fit a couple of people on it. They usually use it as a picnic table. And then…

“Tell her it’s not the one where we do our stop, but the one before it. And that we can hear the highway down south from here.”

The kid nods, and then he ventures a little up the road, looking for signal. He doesn’t seem to have any luck, for he turns around and walks the other way. But he stays within eyeshot of the two.

Annie finds herself following her every move, when something cold and stingy touches her knee. She lets out a little grunt, but then bites her lips in an attempt to stop it. Her eyes well with tears again. She shoots Armin a glare, and he meets it with such an apologetic look as he gently pats the iodine on her wound.

“A warning would have been nice.”

“I thought about that,” he confesses, a little smile creeping into his face. “But then I figured it'd be better if you didn’t expect it.”

She presses her lips together, trying to fight off the sting. When Armin deems it torture enough, he removes the gauze, and inspects the wound.

“It's not that bad,” he says, though his eyes are glued to the wound.

Annie adjusts a little, just enough to see it. The mere sight of it sends a little shiver down her spine.

“It looks pretty bad,” she mutters.

“I think you'll need a few stitches.” Armin retrieves some gauze from his kit and splashes some iodine onto it. “But it looks superficial. I don’t think you hit anything important.”

He presses the thing onto her flesh. Annie takes it from his hands, pressing it to her skin as he retrieves some dressing. He starts wrapping it around her knee, securing it in place. He inspects the thing, makes a face, and goes back to his kit.

Annie frowns. “What was that?”

“I need tape.”

Her frown only deepens. He finds some in his kit, tapes it around the margins, then takes a good look at his masterpiece.

“I think it's good.”

Annie hums, though she says nothing. As Armin packs his kit back, she searches for Andy. She finds him all the way up the boulder, standing on it, his hand pressed against the tree. He has the phone to his ear and seems to be talking to somebody. When his eyes meet hers, a big smile morphs onto his face, and he takes his hand off the tree to give her a thumbs up.

For a second, her heart stops, thinking that he'll fall off. But then he grabs the tree again, and only then does she realise that the kid might have gotten them saved.

“Do you think you can walk?” comes Armin’s voice.

When she turns to him, he's kneeling next to her, backpack strapped on his shoulders.

“I think I can try.”

Armin helps her up, and try she does, but when she puts her foot down, a sharp pain shoots through her entire being, and her vision blacks out. She grunts, clasping Armin’s arm. His hand comes up to her elbow, holding her up.

“I can carry you,” he offers.

She shakes her head, though her face warms up.

“I'm too heavy for you.”

“Annie, you can’t even stand right,” he scolds.

She sighs. He’s right, of course, though she won’t tell him that.

“What about your backpack?”

“I'll wear it on my front. Come on.”

Annie sighs, but she gives in nonetheless. Turns out, Armin can, in fact, carry her with no issues. When they make it up to the boulder, Andy’s still talking on the phone, but he lowers himself when he sees them and slides down.

“Hitch says they’re not that far from us, “he tells them. “She's coming for us.”

Annie hums. She can hear Hitch's voice from the other end, and then Andy thrusts the phone towards her.

“She says she wants to talk to you.”

She takes the phone from his hand and sighs, then puts it up to her ear.

“Hitch?”

That’s all her roommate needs. “How on earth did you get lost in the forest?” she berates her, her voice so loud that she can almost swear that Armin hears it too, for he cringes a little. “What the hell is wrong with you two? And you got injured?! Seriously?!”

Annie sighs. She chooses to ignore her comments. “Where are you? We can meet you halfway.”

“Oh, don’t you fucking dare move!” she says, her voice stern. “Stay right where you are. And don’t hang up.”

She hands the phone back to Andy, who seems absolutely horrified at whatever else Hitch might be saying. She asks Armin to put her down, and he does, gently so, setting her down on a patch of grass before sitting next to her. It feels like an eternity later that Hitch finds them, but when she does, she’s wearing such a deep frown. It melts away when she sees them, replaced with something like relief. She stops a few steps away from them, dropping her hand on her knees and letting her head hang for a little while.

Then, she straightens up and wordlessly joins them on the grass, wiggling in right between them. Annie frowns, but then she yelps when her roommate drapes her arms around her shoulders, and brings both her and Armin into a hug.

“I'm so glad you guys are okay,” she mutters.

Annie hesitates for a second, but then she brings her hand up to Hitch’s shoulder and pats it lightly. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

A second later, Hitch lets go and pushes herself up.

“Okay, let’s get back to the others now.” She turns to Annie and frowns at her knee. “Can you walk?”

Armin answers for her. “I'll carry her.”

Hitch arches an eyebrow, looking between the two of them as if questioning whatever might have gone down the last few minutes. But then she shrugs and just grabs Armin’s bag.

Armin helps Annie onto his back again, securing his hands on her, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders.

“Okay, Andy, let’s go,” Hitch calls.

The kid nods, but then he silently reaches up for her hand. Hitch smiles, giving it a little squeeze.

“Everything's okay now,” she tells him. “We'll get back to the others in no time.”

“That's what they said, too,” he mutters.

Hitch’s smile falters for only a minute. “Let’s go.”

The rest of the hike back is more of a blur to Annie. She’s not sure how long it takes for them to meet up with the others, but when they do, Marie is quick to pull them aside and berate them. Until she sees Annie’s knee, only then does she shut up.

Annie’s vaguely aware of Armin explaining everything, but she cannot follow his string of words, nor Marie’s quick responses. They’re moved to the front of the group, right next to Hannah and Sasha and Connie’s group, and Reiner is moved to the back with Marie, to close the formation. Andy joins his friends again, and soon they start moving.

Had she not been in so much pain that she couldn’t articulate any coherent thought, she might have felt almost embarrassed of this walk of shame, of sorts. She’s painfully aware of her colleagues’ worried eyes on her, as well as the kids's curious whispers.

But instead, she melts into Armin’s back, trying, and failing, to think about anything but her fucked up knee.

Ymir is leisurely smoking on the porch when they make it back, the tip of her cigarette glimmering through the dark, but she stubs it out when she sees them coming up the alley.

Hannah hurries past her and runs inside, mumbling something about her car keys.

Ymir regards them with a questioning look, but then she beckons the kids inside for dinner, yet she doesn’t join them.

“What happened out there?”

The question is not addressed to anyone in particular, yet her eyes are glued to Annie’s knee.

“A little accident,” is all Hitch tells her.

Only then does Annie notice that none of her colleagues went inside, save for Floch, and have instead gathered around her, regarding her with worried looks. She doesn’t like their looks. They make her feel small.

Hannah makes it out with the keys, and beckons Arnin to come with her. He helps Annie onto the back seat of the host’s van as gently as he can, yet a little whimper still escapes her lips when the comfortable support of his arms is gone.

He brushes the damp hair out of her face and places a haste kiss to her forehead.

Annie tries to smile, and she addresses all of her colleagues when she speaks. “I'll be okay. Don’t wait for me.”

Neither of them looks very convinced, but they don’t argue with her. The door is soon shut. Hannah turns on the engine and starts the car.

#this is not a drill #it's back!!#who painted the sky?#wpts #aruani #aruani fic #armin arlert #annie leonhart #armin x annie

dude-why-3