Chapter Text
Zeke sat in the waiting room, fluorescent lights pounding down upon the uncomfortable plastic chairs without mercy. His fingers were tangled between his knees, elbows braced on his thighs, thoughts looping through the same constant circle.
He should have noticed sooner. He should have known.
It shouldn’t have taken Eren passing out for him to notice something was wrong.
Soft steps drew nearer, and he glanced up when Carla sat beside him, shoulders back and hands folded in her lap—she would have looked calm if not for the pronounced white of her knuckles, or the raw redness around her eyes.
His gut twisted.
“Is he...?” he trailed off, not sure what to say. Okay? No. Stupid.
She took a long, steadying breath, gaze ticking down to her clasped hands.
“They’re still waiting on the bloodwork. They put him on IV fluids for now. I called his psychiatrist, just to let her know, but-” Her lips twisted as if she’d tasted something bitter.
Silence settled between them, and Zeke raised a hand to his face, glasses digging into his brow as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger across his eyes.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Did he tell you what happened?”
Eren hadn’t been much for conversation after he’d hung up that call to his mother and spent the rest of the drive staring out the window, lost in himself. He hadn’t said anything at all when Zeke led him to the reception and explained what had happened to the best of his abilities, and just like that, Eren had been admitted and whisked away to get his vitals checked and blood drawn.
They were concerned about the symptoms Zeke had mentioned, they'd said. The fatigue, the nausea, the tremors in his hands and his uncoordinated movements, the way he seemed... slow and confused- they said it looked more like an overdose than withdrawal.
Seizure risk.
So, they’d taken him away at once, leaving Zeke to stand there with his heart rolling around his gut until the nurse at reception told him he could go sit down.
Carla had arrived ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, but she hadn’t even taken note of his presence in her hurry to get to her son.
She shook her head. “He goes mute, sometimes. When he really doesn’t feel like talking.” A small smile struggled its way to the surface through the tears threatening to fall, and then crumpled away quicker than it had come. She had to take a moment to breathe and wipe her watering eyes before she raised her head to face him, expression hard and unflinching.
“How did this happen? There's a reason we keep the pills locked away, Zeke. He could have-” Her hand snapped up to cover her mouth, and she turned away again.
Zeke's throat tightened until he could barely breathe, a heavy hand pressing down on his windpipe. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, because even though they weren’t close, he couldn’t stand to see anyone’s mother cry; but he held back. Carla did not look like she would welcome it.
“Carla, this... will be hard to hear,” he began quietly and swallowed hard, still reeling himself. “I didn’t know about the pills. I didn’t know Eren was taking anything until just earlier, and I found out mostly on accident. Grisha never told me.”
When he lifted his head, he was met by Carla’s wide hazel eyes, staring at him from a suddenly white face.
“No,” she said with a small shake of her head. “No, he told you. He said he told you, that he sent you the medication plan, that you said you would make sure to keep the pills away from Eren and give him his dose twice a day-”
“Carla,” he cut in gently, and her eyes snapped back up, jaw tensed. “He never told me. Anything. I called him earlier, and he said-” His own expression twisted with disgust. “that it must have slipped his mind.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she insisted, searching his face and finding nothing. Her brow wrinkled with irritation. “He wouldn’t forget. How could he? Are you sure you didn’t forget?”
His mouth pulled into a harsh line, but he choked down the impulse to snap something back. That wouldn’t be productive.
“What he told me on the phone an hour ago was that he forgot,” he said with a calm he did not possess and looked her right in the eye, making sure she was listening before he went on, “but maybe he didn’t forget.”
She frowned. “I don’t know what you’re saying-”
His phone dinged, and he was so high-strung that he pulled it from his pocket before she’d finished speaking, skimming the shattered screen.
Honestly, he had expected Grisha. Texting some nonsense in an attempt to cover his ass.
It was Eren.
“Need to talk to you.”
“It’s Eren.” He stood and waited for her to do the same. It took Carla a beat to follow, and then she was off, leading the way without so much as a look in his direction.
The room was empty apart from Eren, leaning against the hospital bed that had been pulled up into a sitting position, head tipped back and half lidded eyes tracking them as they entered.
“Do you need anything, honey?” Carla said and sat on the edge of the mattress, running her fingers through his hair and combing dark strands away from his forehead.
His chest panged.
Zeke hoped Eren knew how lucky he was to have a mother.
A shallow shake of his head. Zeke wandered around the bed and settled on the lone chair beside it, hands on his knees.
The kid was pale still, and his hands shook where they rested on his lap. An IV line fed into his arm, his long sleeve rolled up nearly to his shoulder-
Zeke’s eyes caught on the faded white lines of tough, raised skin on the inside of Eren’s bared forearm, and his stomach clenched, pushing bile up his throat.
He hadn’t noticed that every shirt Eren wore was a longsleeve. What kind of brother was he?
Zeke forced himself to look away, to not let his gaze linger long enough for Eren to notice. Obviously he hadn’t wanted him to see, and there was no reason to dump another unnecessary weight onto the kid’s shoulders right now.
“...how are you feeling?” he said softly and exhaled a long breath through his nose when Eren just twitched his shoulders in response. “Okay. What did you want to talk about?”
Carla watched him like a hawk from the other side of the bed, expression closed off. Her hand slipped from Eren’s head to rest on his shoulder; caring, protective.
Eren cleared his throat. “Been thinking. Sorry I’ve been such a cunt.”
His brows shot up his forehead, and Carla blinked, equally stunned.
“Hey, don’t worry about that. You weren’t in your right mind.” He dared reach out to briefly touch his brother’s hand—he didn’t want to push any physical contact, but it seemed Eren didn’t mind, and Zeke’s love language was, unfortunately, touch.
Eren shook his head again, a tiny back and forth motion of his chin.
“Not... from the beginning. Don't just go psycho immediately.” Zeke cringed at the wording, and Carla made a small noise of disapproval. “I was being a cunt. On purpose.”
Eren’s eyes flickered away, dull grey disappearing beneath dark lashes, fingers tracing along a fold in the hospital bedding. He seemed to steel himself for a moment. When he next spoke, his lips barely moved, and Zeke had to lean in to listen.
“...thought you were making fun of me.”
Zeke blinked, processing this. Making fun of him?
The kid sucked in a shaky breath and dug his fingers into the fabric, giving it a very half-hearted tug.
“You know. Asking about school ‘n stuff. Thought you were doing it on purpose.”
His heart dropped.
“Oh.” To someone forced to forgo basic education due to circumstances out of his control, Zeke’s clueless line of questioning probably had felt like a deliberate jab. “I’m sorry, Eren. I didn’t know. That must have felt shitty.”
He shrugged and left it at that, not meeting anyone’s eye.
“You didn’t know about- Grisha said he told you,” Carla said with a deep, focused creased between her brows, and Zeke heaved a long sigh, dropping his face into his palms.
“Grisha didn’t tell me shit about nothing. He never reached out before this. I texted him when my grandparents died, and I texted him to let him know I was back in the area, and that was it. I can show you the fucking chatlog, there’s nothing before he asked if Eren could stay with me, and there’s nothing about any medication or medical history in there.”
“Dad lied,” Eren agreed, very quietly, and looked back up at his mother. His eyes shone with sudden wetness, and Carla reached out without hesitation, cupping his pale face between her palms. “...I think he hates me.”
Zeke could see the exact moment Carla’s heart cracked apart. She drew him close, tucking his head against her shoulder and shushing him softly.
“No, no, why would you say that, sweetheart? Of course he doesn’t hate you.”
Her words were desperate, lacking conviction, but her posture remained upright, immovable. A rock for her boy to lean on, even as her own doubts ravaged her mind.
She knew. She had to. Carla was a smart woman—she’d spent too much time around Grisha to not know. The man was not obvious by any stretch, but he had his tells, and if there was one person who knew what they were, it would be his wife.
“You were married to the man for twenty years,” Zeke said, gaze lowered to his own linked hands. “I understand you don’t want to believe he would... deliberately try to harm Eren. But I think you should consider the possibility.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she let out a controlled breath. “He’s still Eren’s father.”
“He was my father too,” he said, startling himself. Carla looked at him, but he couldn’t hold her gaze. “My parents’ divorce was finalised just a month before my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I think he knew, and he wanted no part of it.”
He hadn’t been a doctor back then, not yet. But he had been most of the way through medical school, and would it really be so farfetched to suggest that a late term medical student could potentially recognise the signs of a terminal illness in someone they interacted with every single day?
The thought had been stewing for a long, long time, but he had never voiced it out loud, to anyone. It was such a cruel thing to accuse someone of, but now... he thought his father capable of much worse.
“He’s not a caring person. Is what I’m saying,” he added after a beat of uncomfortable silence.
Eren raised his head from Carla’s shoulder and sat back, jaw muscles working.
“...I wanna talk to him. Ask him what his fucking problem is.” His voice was flat, but there was an unfamiliar spark behind his eyes. Carla stroked the hair that had fallen back into his face away again, carding her fingers through the length of it.
“Not right now, honey. You know you and your father don’t mix well at the best of times. You’re just going to upset yourself, and we don’t want to risk anything worse happening. We need to get your meds readjusted first.”
Eren grumbled something under his breath and leaned away from his mother’s touch; she dropped her hand without issue. All touched out, then? Some touch was okay? Zeke was still trying to figure that one out.
“...now that I’ve fucked the whole thing over, she better get me some new shit. Something that doesn’t make me fall asleep standing.”
“You know it’s not that easy, baby,” she scolded gently, though her expression was soft, sympathetic. “There’s not a lot she can prescribe with everything else. Being tired is better than having a seizure.”
“To you, maybe,” he muttered but fell silent at the warning cluck of her tongue.
“They make you tired? The meds?” Zeke was taking mental notes in an attempt to gather all the information Grisha had withheld.
“Ugh, yeah,” Eren groaned and tipped his head back against the pillow to scowl up at the ceiling. “I had one little seizure, and they switched my antipsychotics, so now I’m just asleep. All day. Forever.”
“Damn, that sucks,” he said and really meant it. No wonder Eren was so frustrated; he didn’t choose to be sick, and now he had to spend his days basically sedated just so he could achieve some level of normalcy. “Figures that you annihilated that jar of coffee, then.”
Eren’s head snapped up at the same time as Carla exclaimed, “Coffee?!”
The kid stared at his mother’s displeased expression, wide eyed and unblinking.
“Uh.”
“Eren Marcel Yeager! You know exactly that you’re not supposed to have coffee!”
“Oh?” Zeke glanced from Carla to Eren and back again, brows raised. “That was the first thing he demanded after Grisha dropped him off.”
“Snitch,” Eren hissed through his teeth, and Zeke snorted. The kid’s nose still wrinkled in the exact same way it had when Eren had been a little boy who hadn’t gotten his way—it had been adorable when he was eight, and it was still cute now, at eighteen.
“Do not blame this on your brother, Eren. You know better. You know you’re not allowed caffeine, and you still took advantage of the situation,” she scolded, and Eren lowered his gaze and at least had the decency to look chastened.
“...’m just. Really tired.”
The stern line of Carla’s brow relaxed the slightest bit, and she heaved a sigh. “I know, baby.” She turned to Zeke. “He’s not allowed any caffeine. No energy drinks. Decaf coffee is okay, but nothing else.”
“Does it have a bad interaction with his meds?” he said, because if it did, he would never fucking forgive himself. He hadn’t known, sure, but it still had been him who bought Eren that jar, and then everything had gone to shit at once.
“Not exactly, no.” She sighed, tired. “It’s just... it is very easy for Eren to get... hooked. We haven’t had any issues with alcohol or nicotine or anything like that, but caffeine- it's best to keep it away from him.”
Oh. That explained how feral Eren went over the stuff.
“Do I have to hide my cigarettes from you?” he said with a frown and watched Eren squirm, trying and failing to get comfortable. He messed with the buttons on the bed, reclining it. Reclining it further. Putting it back up a smidge. Down again.
“No. Can't stand the smell,” he mumbled in response, a bit pouty.
...oh.
A violent epiphany struck like lightning.
Zeke knew cigarette smoke wove itself into his clothes and hair, but he himself had long since ceased being able to smell it. It was just part of the sensory scenery now. His last girlfriend had often wrinkled her nose when she’d stepped into his apartment, commenting on the faint stench of nicotine permeating the air, even with the windows cracked. And Zeke had believed her, he just... couldn’t sense it.
He'd have to start venturing up to the roof to smoke. Opening the window and blowing the smoke out wasn’t cutting it, not with his little brother there.
Even though Eren could have just said so instead of emptying a whole spray can of air freshener inside his apartment like some kind of convoluted, passive aggressive declaration of war.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but when he turned back to Eren, the kid was limp against the cushions, eyelids drooping.
Carla sighed softly, her fond, tired smile etching gentle lines around her hazel eyes.
“Don’t fight it, honey. Go to sleep.” She stood and pressed a kiss to the top of Eren’s head, then gestured for Zeke to follow her out.
The door clicked shut behind them, and her smile faltered.
Zeke cleared his throat, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. “So. What now?”
Carla wrapped her arms around her middle; the gesture made him realise just how slight she was. She was a slender woman, nearly a full head shorter than himself, and his innards knotted at the thought of her having to deal with Grisha and her sick son all on her own.
“They’re keeping him for observation until tomorrow. They'll call me later about the blood work, and I’ll pass it on to his psychiatrist and make an appointment,” she counted off, her shoulders slumping with every new word out of her mouth.
That was only the start of it. Eren was either getting new meds or had to start his old ones again, and it was going to suck. The only experience Zeke had with any prescription medication was with the very run of the mill antidepressants he’d taken in his late teens and early twenties, and he still hatefully remembered the week of side effects when he’d first gotten on them, and eventually off them.
He didn’t want to think about what kind of havoc something more complex than that could wreak.
“Do you... do you want to take him back home with you?” he said, careful to keep any kind of treacherous inflection out of his voice.
Carla let out a long breath, looking all of a sudden exhausted.
“...I don’t want him around Grisha right now,” she admitted in a low, quiet voice, as if worried about being overheard. “But I- I have nowhere but the house to go. All my money is going to the lawyer. If he could keep staying with you, I’d be grateful.”
“Of course,” he responded at once and blew out a relieved breath, stepping aside to let a nurse pass. “Maybe we should go outside. If you’re done with the doctors, that is.”
Carla headed down the hallway without another word, and he fell into step beside her, thoughts racing.
“I want to apologise,” she said once they’d crossed the threshold of the automatic double doors and emerged into the cool late morning air. “For snapping. For arguing. I don’t know why I thought I had to believe Grisha over you. I don’t trust him, not anymore.”
Zeke blinked and slowed to a halt on the way to the parking lot. “It’s... fine. I suppose you don’t really know me.”
A jaded, bitter laugh clawed from her throat; it wasn’t a sound he’d thought her capable of making, something wrong and misshapen splattering out onto the brick path between them.
“I know you better than the man I married, apparently.” She turned away and stared out across the parking lot, fingers twisted into the fabric of her cardigan until her knuckles stood out bone white, eyes somewhere else entirely. “It’s been... hard.”
“I can imagine,” he said, though he wasn’t sure he could. Zeke had no concept of the full scope of the situation; of everything she’d had to go through and push past while taking care of Eren over the past three years. On her own.
She sucked in a shaky breath. Her shoulders quaked, and her lips pulled into a tight, thin line—and then, she burst into tears.
Carla ripped her hands up to her face in a futile attempt to muffle her grief, and Zeke stumbled closer without thinking about it, hands hovering for a long, uncertain moment before they lowered to her shoulders.
“He’s been so- so frustrated with him,” she sobbed. Zeke swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “He doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t try, I just- he's so angry with him. And I get angry too, but not at Eren, never at Eren, he’s ill, he can’t-”
The rest of her words were lost to a bout of heartbroken sobs, and Zeke stood there like an idiot and squeezed her shoulders, blinking wetness from his own eyes.
Yeah. That sounded like his dear old dad, alright.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” she hiccupped and rubbed the heels of her palms across her red rimmed eyes, breath hitching. Zeke’s gut clenched when she turned back to him at last—she looked so shattered, so exhausted. “You... you think he did it on purpose? He meant to hurt Eren?”
Her eyes pleaded with him. Begged him to say no, of course not, maybe all those instructions just got lost in the ether where wayward text messages ended up.
But Zeke didn’t believe that, and neither did she, not really.
“Yes. I think he did it on purpose,” he said, as calm and level as he could manage.
She made a choked sound that ripped through her chest, shook her whole body.
“...I’ll talk to my lawyer,” she said softly, wiping her cheeks.
“Okay. Do you have my number?” He retracted his hands, and she swayed like a leaf caught in a breeze without his awkward support.
“No,” she sniffled and fumbled her phone from her pocket. Zeke accepted it from her shaky hands and created a contact for himself, then handed it back. “Thank you.”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Just say the word.”
“Thank you, Zeke.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Really. This is a great help, to both of us.”
“Of course. Be safe,” he said and watched her wander away and get into her car, eyes rubbed raw and hands unsteady around her keys.
Zeke watched until she’d pulled out of the parking lot, and then he made his way to his own car, rubbing two fingers across his eyes.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He'd already opened the door when he thought better of it and threw it shut. Pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lighter and lit one up, leaning against the driver side door.
No more smoking inside the car, or the apartment.
Eren would be coming back home with him.