Chapter Text
The rain came down in steady sheets, a grey curtain swallowing the battered streets of Shiganshina.
Eren pressed his forehead against the cold window of the car, watching the world he knew blur into shapes and shadows.
Graffiti-stained walls. Crumbling shops. Stray cats darting between garbage bins. The kind of place that raised you hard, taught you to bare your teeth before your heart.
Vegas whined softly from the back seat, the massive german shepherd shifting nervously with every bump of the road. Eren reached back without looking, scratching behind Vegas’ ear the way he always did when they were both uneasy.
"Almost there," Grisha said from the driver's seat, voice rough from too many sleepless nights. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel never loosened.
In the passenger seat, Carla glanced over her shoulder. Her dark hair framed her pale, fragile face, but her smile was warm. "New beginnings, Eren," she said gently. "It’ll be better. You’ll see."
Eren sighed dramatically, shifting restlessly. He tightened his hoodie around himself and turned back to the window.
"Eren," Grisha warned softly, eyes meeting his son's in the rearview mirror.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Eren muttered. "Just feels weird leaving home."
"I know," Carla said softly, her voice filled with understanding. "But it'll be better there. For all of us."
Vegas let out a gentle bark, as if agreeing. Eren smiled softly, rubbing the dog's head.
They’d been driving for hours now when Grisha finally switched on the radio, filling the tense silence with static-filled classic rock.
“Dad, seriously?” Eren groaned, tugging his headphones down around his neck. “You always pick the oldest music humanly possible.”
“Watch it,” Grisha shot back, trying to hide his smile. “This is culture, Eren. Good music.”
Carla laughed softly, resting her hand lightly on Grisha’s knee as he drove. “Honey, the eighties called. Even they said you’re overdoing it.”
Eren snorted, rolling his eyes as he turned to the backseat, stretching an arm over to Vegas, who immediately nuzzled into his palm. “At least someone here has taste,” he muttered, “Right, boy?" Vegas gave an agreeable bark, tail wagging gently against the seat.
Grisha sighed dramatically. “Outnumbered in my own family. Betrayed by even the dog. Fine, change it if you must, but please spare me from whatever it is you kids listen to these days.”
“‘Kids’?” Eren scoffed, lips quirking into a smirk. “You’re acting like you’re ninety. And for the record, my music’s way better than yours.”
Carla leaned back, smiling warmly as she watched them banter. It had been a long time since she’d heard them like this—since the diagnosis, since the chemo treatments started eating into all their laughter.
“I don’t know,” she said lightly, “Maybe we should trust Eren’s music judgment. We are moving to a whole new city, after all. New city, new music?”
Grisha huffed, shaking his head in mock defeat. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to a lot of new things now. At least Rose’s hospital has actual modern equipment. I might finally work somewhere that’s not falling apart.”
“You sure you’ll be okay with it?” Carla’s voice softened slightly, careful. “New patients, new staff?”
“I’ll adapt,” Grisha reassured gently. “If they can put up with me at Shiganshina General, Rose Memorial will be a breeze.”
Carla’s fingers squeezed gently around his hand on the wheel, silent reassurance passing between them.
Eren watched from the back seat, something twisting softly in his chest. He knew they’d moved mostly for his mom—for better care, better doctors, better chances. His dad hadn’t hesitated for a second when the offer came from Rose Memorial. He respected that, admired it even. But the whole thing still tasted bitter, felt wrong.
“Are you worried, Eren?” Carla asked suddenly, turning gently to glance at him over her shoulder. Her voice was gentle, careful, like she already knew the answer but wanted to give him space to say it.
Eren hesitated, shrugging as he turned back toward the window. “About Rose Academy? Yeah, kinda. I just—” He paused, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “It’s different. Everyone there’s probably rich, or like, super smart.”
Grisha chuckled, shaking his head. "Give yourself more credit. You'll adapt. Rose Academy wouldn’t have accepted you if they didn't see your potential."
“And you both know my grades are a disaster waiting to happen.”
“They weren’t that bad,” Carla corrected fondly.
“Mom, please. Math last semester? It was an actual war crime.”
Grisha snorted, covering his laugh with a cough. Carla smacked his arm lightly, though she smiled too.
“You’re more than grades, honey,” Carla continued gently. “Rose Academy picked you because they saw something special.”
“Yeah, they saw dad’s application donation,” Eren grumbled, but he softened quickly at the affectionate look Grisha sent him through the rearview mirror.
“You’re more capable than you think, Eren,” Grisha told him firmly. “I wouldn’t put you in a situation you couldn’t handle.”
Eren shifted, sighing quietly as he reached again for Vegas. “I just hope they let me bring Vegas on campus sometimes. I don’t think I can survive the rich kids without him.”
Vegas tilted his head into Eren’s palm, tail wagging at his name.
Grisha sighed, glancing at Carla, who suppressed a smile. "You'll be surprised how well you'll fit in," she said reassuringly. "You’re smart, passionate—"
"Angry," Eren interjected, half-smiling.
Carla laughed quietly. "Yes, angry. But also brave. They won't know what hit them."
"Besides," Carla continued, her voice gentle but firm, "no one's going to mess with my boy at Rose."
Eren's smile faded slightly, eyes flicking away. "Wasn't exactly a problem back home."
Grisha’s eyes flicked sharply to the rearview mirror. Carla turned around, brows knitting in immediate concern.
Eren shrugged, deliberately casual. "Oh, nothing. Just that Rose is probably too fancy for schoolyard fights. A shame really, was starting to get good at it."
Grisha sighed sharply, fingers tightening on the wheel. "Eren, that’s not something to joke about."
"I'm not joking," Eren muttered, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself defensively. "It’s just facts. They liked messing with me. Not my fault they never learned their lesson."
"Eren," Grisha said sternly, eyes narrowing slightly.
"What?" Eren shot back, defensive. "It's true. Kids tried messing with me, I fought back."
"You shouldn’t have had to fight at all," Carla said quietly, reaching back to squeeze his hand. "You never told us it was still happening."
"You had enough to worry about," Eren muttered softly, turning away again. "I handled it."
Carla’s expression softened, but her voice remained resolute. "It won’t happen again. Not at Rose. I'll make sure of that myself if I have to."
Grisha glanced at his wife, almost smiling at the fierceness in her voice. "Your mother is scary when she wants to be."
Eren huffed a laugh, grudgingly amused. "Yeah, I noticed."
Eren felt his chest loosen slightly at her words. She’d always been quietly fierce when it came to protecting him, even when he insisted he didn't need it.
Carla and Grisha exchanged a quiet glance of relief. Carla relaxed back into her seat, content to listen quietly as Eren began debating out loud with Vegas about which new songs to play.
Outside, the grey skies slowly cleared as they drove further upstate, and the roads grew smoother beneath the wheels, leaving Shiganshina further and further behind them.
Eren leaned forward, resting his chin between the two front seats. “You feeling okay, Mom? You look tired.”
Carla turned to face him, the quiet worry in his green eyes tugging gently at her heart. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just excited.”
“Promise?” he pressed worry evident in his voice.
She reached back, gently squeezing his hand. “Promise.”
Eren nodded once, sitting back again. Vegas, sensing his mood, nudged his knee reassuringly.
“Rose Memorial’s oncology team is one of the best,” Grisha added carefully, watching Eren closely. “We have good reasons to be hopeful. Better than we’ve had in a long time.”
Eren chewed his lip, nodded again. “Okay. Good.” His voice was quiet, vulnerable—trusting them implicitly, even if he’d never admit out loud how scared he was to lose either of them.
Grisha cleared his throat, reaching to turn the radio volume up slightly. “Now—are we going to settle this music argument, or am I stuck listening to Eren’s sad-boy playlist for the next three hours?”
Eren rolled his eyes dramatically. “Dad, please don’t call it that.”
“Sorry, teen angst playlist,” Grisha corrected dryly.
“It’s not angst, it’s just taste,” Eren grumbled, but he was smiling, eyes softer, tension easing from his shoulders.
The road stretched on, smoother and brighter as Shiganshina receded behind them. Buildings appeared on the horizon, tall and clean—Rose looming closer, inevitable and unfamiliar.
By the time they pulled up to the neat, suburban house, the rain had eased. Vegas jumped out first, sniffing cautiously. Eren followed reluctantly, sneakers squelching on wet pavement.
Inside the house, everything smelled like fresh paint and new carpet. Eren kicked off his shoes by the door, dripping water everywhere. Vegas padded in beside him, giving the place a suspicious sniff.
Carla coughed lightly, covering it with a small smile. Grisha’s hand hovered at her back, ready to steady her if needed.
"Your room’s upstairs," Grisha said. "Top floor. End of the hall."
Grisha and Carla stood by the door, watching quietly as their son took in the new house, Vegas glued to his side. Carla leaned gently against her husband.
"Do you think he'll be alright here?" she murmured softly.
Grisha wrapped an arm around her shoulders, voice heavy. "He has to be. This is his chance, our chance, to make things right."
"And if he remembers?" Carla's voice was small, haunted.
Grisha's eyes darkened, resolve hardening his eyes. "Then we'll protect him."
He followed Vegas up the stairs, each step creaking under his feet, and found his new room, a decent-sized bedroom with a view of identical suburban houses stretching out in every direction.
Eren sank onto the bed, eyes fixed on the unfamiliar ceiling.
He didn't want pristine streets and spotless classrooms. He didn't want perfect strangers in perfectly ironed clothes. He wanted freedom; the sky, the ocean, something endless and wild.
He clenched his fists, heart aching strangely, painfully aware of something missing. Something important he'd forgotten.
Vegas nudged his leg gently, offering comfort. Eren scratched his ears, whispering softly, "It'll be okay, right, buddy?"
Vegas whined softly, shifting closer.
Outside, the rain started again, drumming softly on the roof, whispering promises and warnings. And though he couldn't understand it yet, somewhere deep down, Eren knew that his world was about to change in ways he could never imagine.