As soon as he was sure Levi was asleep, the teen quietly padded over to the opposite couch and took a seat. He could easily watch as Levi's fragile body relaxed; it almost appeared as though it were caving in on itself. Still, beneath the blankets, his shoulders and ribs expanded and contracted with each breath he took, still serving as the brunet's only reassurance.

Eren took this as an opportunity to finally respond to Armin.

|Hey, Armin. Sorry for being MIA. A lot has happened in the past 36 hours. Thanks for the luck, though. I think I'm gonna need it.|

He tapped send and replaced his phone on the coffee table before leaning over and rubbing his face with both hands. He didn't expect Armin to reply right away; the blond almost always had plans Saturday night, whether it was with friends or family or simply studying. He just figured replying late was better than never replying at all, even if Armin wasn't around to see it right away.

To his surprise, however, his phone vibrated in indication of a text message merely minutes later. Upon picking it up, he found it to be from his blond best friend.

|No worries. Need to talk?|

Eren's immediate response was yes, he truly did need someone to talk to, to get advice from. In truth he didn't really know what he was doing; he'd artlessly been following either his instincts or making decisions he thought were best, yet at the same time it didn't seem enough. Talking to someone he trusted like Armin could serve to be useful, but that would mean explaining the entirety of the situation to him and he wasn't sure if that was something he should do.

Levi hadn't even told his own sister, his own family. What right did Eren have telling a secret to a person Levi had never met, especially unbeknownst to him?

He found his lip trapped between his teeth and his thumbs doing an awkward dance over the screen of his phone that had since gone black during his contemplation. He glanced at Levi - who hadn't changed a bit in the last five minutes - and then back at his phone.

Deciding he was desperate enough to need some sort of advice, he retrieved his headphones from his bag in the corner, unlocked his phone again, and tapped the phone icon to call Armin. As it started ringing, he stood and wandered outside as not to wake Levi.

Soundlessly shutting the door behind him and stepping into the frigid air, Armin's familiar voice sounded from the speaker in a cool tone.

"Hello, Eren."

"Hey, Armin."

"How are you?"

Drawing in a deep breath, the brunet slid down the wall and sat. "I'm...overwhelmed," he replied honestly.

"Sounds like it. What's up?"

To keep warmer from the slight breeze blowing snow into the stairwell, Eren pulled his knees up and rested his chin on one of them.

"It's a long, complicated story."

"I think I can keep up."

Eren began tracing nervous, invisible circles on the concrete floor. "Well, what did my mom tell you?"

"Not much. She said you had something really important to take care of and she thanked me."

"Well she wasn't wrong to do that," he replied with a small smile.

"Why?" asked Armin.

"I, um..." Eren gulped, nervous butterflies erupting in his stomach. "I talked to Levi last night," he began. "You were right about that whole thing, not surprisingly."

"And?" prompted the blond, his voice slightly higher pitched. Eren could just imagine the smirk on his youthful face and squeezed his eyes shut.

"And it looks like I'm gonna be staying with him...for...a while."

Armin was silent for a long second. When he spoke, he stammered, "Wh-what? Already?"

"It's not like that, Armin. Just...just listen, okay? Levi is...he's not well. In fact I...I think he's dying." Eren's voice cracked. "I'm staying with him to help him get better and-" He was cut off by the click of a doorknob and then the door to the apartment across from Levi's marked with the number 35 was opening. A plump, almost too friendly looking elderly man stepped out of it. Under the dim lightbulb, Eren made out his features momentarily masked by puzzlement before they softened and he cast Eren a smile. Forcefully, Eren returned that smile and watched as he descended the stairs.

"Eren?" Armin piped up from the other line.

"Sorry. Hang on." He waited for the man to disappear from sight before he spoke again. "Anyway, um...I'm gonna help him get better as best I can, I just...don't know how to do that yet."

"If he's dying, Eren, you need to take him to a hospital." Armin's voice softened considerably. This time Eren imagined his blond brows pulling together in concern and his finger twirling a strand of his hair as he sat at his desk or on his bed or something.

"I know. I wish I could. It's just a lot more complicated than some random sickness or whatever. What's happening to Levi is...is...self-inflicted." Eren was struggling to get the words out and he could feel tears beginning to sting the corners of his eyes that remained shut. He fought hard to hold them back.

"You did say he had issues like your dad..." Armin recalled in a whisper.

"He's worse than my dad was, Armin. Far worse. My dad's was in moderation and he knew better how to be careful. Levi doesn't really have any boundaries, or if he does they're faint or fading."

"What drug?" Armin whispered almost inaudibly.

"H-heroin," Eren stammered just as quietly.

A long silence followed. Eren could feel himself trembling. At the mention of the word, his mind made up fantasies of Levi's state - how all of his bones must be visible through his skin, his muscles deteriorating, marks of discoloration on his arms where he injected, the scars he inflicted purposely upon himself, particularly his forearms...

And that said nothing for his mental state. Outwardly, he seemed alright, but Eren knew how it was to pretend on the surface whereas on the inside you're fighting a losing war. Drugs were another story, he was sure, completely unbeknownst to him. He couldn't imagine the kind of war Levi was battling, fighting the demons that were no doubt darker and stronger than Eren's own.

"I'm sure you heard this from your mother, Eren, but you need to be careful," Armin was saying.

"I know. It's a huge risk. But I..." Eren attempted a deep, cleansing breath, but the result was an ache in his chest from the cold air. "I can't leave him, Armin. I can't let him d...wither away. I would hate myself forever."

"You love him, don't you?" murmured Armin. Again, Eren imagined the small knowing smile on his face.

The brunet refrained from answering right away. Of course he was sure of the answer, but was still unsure of the possibilities lying within that answer. His mind inhabited a mess of unsure thoughts and unmade decisions, all tangled up in each other. It reminded him of Mikasa's hair when it was so long it reached her butt and that time she played in the dirt, getting it tangled up in a huge rat's nest. He remembered how hard she cried as Carla worked for three hours to get it out.

"I'll take your silence as a yes," Armin said.

"I'm surprised you even had to ask the question since you know me so well," Eren half joked. "But I feel like an idiot."

"How come?"

"What kind of person falls for a freaking junkie?" he muttered. "Especially someone who's been using for eight years..."

"I think we can both agree that love is weird. Does he know?"

"Yeah," Eren sighed.

"And?"

"I honestly have no flying clue."

"But he's letting you help him."

"By some miracle, yes. Not that I have the slightest idea how to help him."

"Have you tried suggesting taking him to a rehabilitation center?"

"That was the first thing I recommended. Guess he doesn't have health insurance, but I think the bigger reason is that he's scared."

"Understandable. But if you want my advice..."

"I do, Armin. I'm desperate as hell," Eren mumbled into his knees. Armin was the only person in the world he would admit something like that to, aside from maybe his mother.

"Okay. In my opinion, from what little information I've got, I'm not sure how possible it'll be for him to get better on his own, even with your help. Granted, I don't know him, but I think his best bet is rehab, if you can convince him to go."

Eren chewed anxiously on his cheek. "I don't know if I can. He's stubborn, and I'm not good with words..."

"You convinced him to let you help him, yes?"

"Something like that."

"You're not as bad with words as you think, Eren. Perhaps you should find the reason he's willing to recover and use that as a reason he should get professional help."

Sighing, Eren rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"You didn't think something like this was going to be easy, did you?"

"No, of course not. But that doesn't make it any less stressful."

"I understand."

"I just...it's not like I can hide his stash or anything, y'know?"

Armin took a minute before replying. Eren could practically hear the gears turning in that brilliant brain of his, analyzing his words and using them to find a solution. That was the thing Armin had always been exceptional at, even when they were very young.

"Do you know where it is?" he asked finally.

Eren sat up a little straighter, heart picking up the pace in fear of what his best friend was about to suggest.

"I think so," he admitted, eyes flitting around the stairwell. "You're not saying-"

"No, nothing like that. I just think that perhaps if you knew for sure where it is, it might snap some things into perspective for him. That is, if he knew you know where it is."

"Do you really think that could work?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't think it could hurt. It's solely up to you."

A million possibilities flew through Eren's mind at blinding speed. Levi could kick him out and end up gone within a week, he could perhaps change where he kept it, or a number of other things. Though at the same time, Armin could truly be right, something he had a tendency to do.

"I think it's under the bathroom sink," he said quietly. "B-but...I should make sure before I do anything, I think. Right?"

"That's your call, Eren. I am merely here for moral support."

Eren snorted. "Thanks, Armin," he mumbled. With that, he pulled himself to his feet. Due to the cold, his body was beginning to shiver and his fingers were going numb. "He's asleep right now...so I'm gonna go check. Don't hang up."

"No problem."

Nervously, Eren turned and pushed the door open as quietly as possible. Taking one last breath of frigid air, he stepped back into the warmth of the apartment and soundlessly shut the door in his wake. Levi remained asleep, unchanged, and the TV was showing some commercial for a product the teen paid no mind to. He reached over and flipped the switch over Levi's head to the off position, leaving the only light in the entire apartment coming from the television itself. He refrained from saying anything to Armin; he still didn't really know how heavy Levi slept and there was no way he was about to risk waking him up in a situation like this.

After locking the door, he proceeded forward down the dark hallway, carefully padding his way along the carpet and dragging the tips of his fingers against the wall to help guide his way. Through his headphones, he could hear Armin opening a package of food and the creaking of his bed as he shifted his weight.

Once Eren reached the bathroom, he switched the light on and stared inside.

"Take a deep breath, Eren," murmured the blond on the line. It was uncanny how both he and Eren's mother always seemed to be able to sense when he was distressed, even over something as simple as a phone call. Over the years he'd learned to take their advice due to bad experiences when he hadn't when he was younger.

"Right..."

Sparing one last glance back down the hall to make sure Levi was still sound asleep, Eren entered the bathroom and shut the door.

Levi's syringe remained where he'd last set it on the counter. That alone gave him an uneasy feeling, but he pushed it aside as he sunk down into the floor in front of the cabinets beneath the sink.

"Should I be this nervous?" he grumbled mainly to himself.

"With your anxiety, yes," responded Armin rationally. "You know you don't have to do this."

Immediately, Eren responded, "Yes, I do. He has to get better and if this will help, I have to do it."

"I trust your judgment, Eren. I just hope you do, too."

To that Eren didn't reply. Shakily, he reached out with his still-clammy hand and hooked his finger around the knob of the cabinet.

"Armin...talk to me. Just...talk about anything, I don't care. Just keep talking. Please."

Around what sounded like a mouth full of food, the blond did as requested. He started recapping the latest episode of a television series he, Jean, and Marco had gotten into. It was one Eren didn't care for, though his friends were borderline obsessed with it. At the time, he couldn't even recall the name of it. He was just grateful to hear the sound of Armin's voice as he worked up to opening the cabinet.

And suddenly it was wide open. He didn't remember opening it, much less making the decision to open both sides as far as they could go.

At first his brain didn't fully register what his eyes were seeing. It all looked like some strange science experiment to him, one that had gone completely wrong.

One by one, each item registered. Armin's bantering about his show never so much as faltered.

Spoons. There were several spoons that were charred and cloudy, having lost their shiny silver luster long ago.

Candles. Unscented and plain white. Melted wax nearly covered the bottom surface of the cabinet, crusted over by what Eren could only imagine to be dried blood.

A box of tissues. A lighter. An empty box that once contained needles. A small plastic baggie about half full of white-ish powder.

That was it. Simple enough. The only syringe was the one on the sink. It seemed so very simple, much too easy. Eren himself could probably Google how to use the stuff and shoot up himself, right then and there. Not that he was going to do that.

Though in his mind, it was too simple. These small, everyday items excluding that powder itself was the very reason for Levi's damnation. These things were the reason he weighed next to nothing, threw up everything he ate, and slept very little. They were why he'd lost so many opportunities in his life and had so many relationships ruined, ones Eren had no idea about. They were why his mental state was so distorted, why he believed he was worthless, unworthy, undeserving of anything good at all in his life. Eren knew these things because he'd seen it all in those somber gray eyes. They were merely flashes; Levi's poker face was very practiced and perfected, but Eren never missed when he slipped up on the rare occasion.

Levi was fighting a losing battle all because of spoons, candles, needless, tissues, and a lighter. Simple, so simple. Eren never thought he could detest something so much, but this was it. He absolutely hated that it was so easy for someone, especially someone like Levi, to spiral down into an abyss of depression and agony from Such. Simple. Things.

"Eren? Are you there?" Armin was saying in a worried tone.

"H-holy shit, Armin," mumbled the brunet, eyes wide and unblinking.

"Did you find it?"

"Uh huh..."

"What's the matter?"

"It's just...hard to believe things so simple like this are the reason Levi is..." He couldn't bring himself to finish. He couldn't say the word 'dying' again.

"Remember that he was the one who made the decision, Eren," Armin said. "He didn't have to go down this path, but he did."

"There's...a lot more to it than that, Armin."

"Even so..."

"I know," whispered Eren, simultaneously shutting his eyes and letting the tears that had welled up there spill down his cheeks.

"What are you planning to do now?"

"I-I don't know." Without reopening his eyes and exposing himself once more to the horrible truth that was the cabinet below that bathroom sink, Eren shut it and scooted toward the door, pressed his back to it, and let his face fall into his hands. Moisture from his eyes filled his palms and pooled there before condensing and finding its way between his fingers.

"If you really care for him, Eren, you'll be there for him, even after seeing what you just saw. I can't imagine what it must be like. But if your resolve is final, you won't give up. And I know you, stubborn as a bull. You'll do whatever it takes to help the people you love." The smile was evident in Armin's voice. "You've done it for so many people countless times, and I can't see why this would be any different, except perhaps this time you'll be even more determined and eager than any time in the past."

"B-but..." Eren blubbered, hating the thickness of his voice from crying. "What if I fail, Armin? What if I do something wrong or say something wrong or just flat out screw up? What if I end up being the reason-"

"Don't let your demons put those ideas in your head," the blond interrupted. "You're stronger than they are. You'll find a way no matter what it takes."

Eren let those words sink in. He knew Armin was right - knew it down to his very bones. He'd never given up on his mother or Mikasa when things were rough for them. He hadn't given up on Armin when he was bullied a lot when they were younger. In fact, he'd gotten himself in trouble more times than he could probably remember protecting and defending his sky blue-eyed best friend.

The only reason this situation should be any different was because he loved Levi in a way he'd never experienced before, cared for the raven and had strong inner ambitions to see life return to his eyes, to see him healthy. At that point, this ambition took over everything else. He wanted to put a smile on Levi's face - a genuine one, not a sarcastic one, or one that ended in more of a grimace.

"You're...you're right, Armin. I guess I'm just scared, y'know?" The brunet swallowed hard and dragged his arm across his face to catch what he felt were the last of his tears.

"Anyone would be, Eren. But you're not alone. If you need anything, you know I'm always here."

Eren forced a laugh. "Don't go getting all cheesy on me," he joked. He could practically hear the roll of Armin's eyes. "But thank you. Really."

"Of course. Are you alright now?"

"Yeah, I think so." Out of nowhere, a thought occurred to Eren. "But uh, are you busy tomorrow?"

"Other than studying, I'm completely free."

"Would you mind, um, helping me pick up a car? I think Levi will kick my ass if I don't get it soon." Amusement bubbled in his chest at trying to picture a weak Levi attempting to get his bony hands on Eren to 'kick his ass', but was immediately replaced by a kind of remorse.

"Just tell me the plan and the time," replied Armin smoothly.

"I don't really have a plan," admitted Eren a bit ruefully. "I just thought of it, actually."

"Then let me know as soon as you figure it out. Anyway, Eren, I've gotta go. I have a needy cat to take care of."

Eren found himself grinning lightly, imagining Armin's Siamese pawing at his face, begging to be played with or fed. "Alright, Armin. Thanks...for everything."

"No problem, Eren. I'll talk to you soon."

"Yup. Later."

"Bye."

With that, Eren slid his phone from his pocket and tapped the red 'end call' icon before pulling his headphones out. He sat there for a while, head leaning back against the door, staring blankly at the ceiling. He could faintly hear the television through the door until the heater kicked on. Eventually, after spending several minutes thinking about how damn lucky he was, his phone started beeping at him, notifying him of a low battery. His butt was beginning to go numb, as well, so he pulled himself to his feet and exited the bathroom, almost immediately feeling the relief of being away from the contents of that cupboard.

Once back in the living room, he plugged his phone in and carelessly tossed it on the couch.  Since his emotions had calmed down, he'd become aware of the emptiness in his stomach and wandered to the kitchen, hoping to find something to scrounge, though with no luck. Sighing, he shuffled back to the living room and was prepared to lay across the couch opposite Levi and watch TV, but was stopped short by a strange noise coming from his left. He turned to find Levi curled up tightly in his nest of blankets. His trembling had picked back up but his eyes remained shut - squeezed shut, in fact. The noise reaching Eren's sensitive ears were the small whimpers escaping his slightly parted, thin lips.

Frowning, Eren approached and sunk down on the floor in front of him. He was clearly still asleep but appeared to be having a nightmare.

The overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth the creases in Levi's forehead hit Eren like a truck, and before he knew it, his fingers were extended forward. As soon as they made contact with Levi's surprisingly soft skin, a warm, tingly sensation crawled up his arm. His heart pounded like never before as he held his breath, lip trapped between his teeth. Gently, he smoothed the pad of his thumb over the crease between the raven's brows. Dark lashes fluttered open almost simultaneously to reveal sleepy, bloodshot gray orbs. Eren withdrew his hand swiftly.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up," he murmured.

Levi's steely eyes fell upon Eren's face. He still shook, though all distress in his features had vanished.

"Shitty brat," he mumbled. Eren opened his mouth to apologize again, but was stopped by Levi's own hand emerging from beneath the blankets and reaching toward the teen's reddening face. At the moment his fingertips - warm, for once - made contact with the plush skin of Eren's cheek just beneath his eye, warmth radiated throughout his entire body, causing an involuntary gasp to draw in between his lips and his eyes to widen considerably. "What were you crying for?" Levi continued, brows knitting together once more.

Blush darkening, eyes widening further, Eren gulped. "N-nothing," he stammered.

"It wasn't because of me, was it?"

Eren had no way to answer that, so he remained staring, surprised Levi could so easily tell he'd been crying.

"Such a waste," sighed Levi.

"I'm...I'm fine," Eren mumbled, a bit disoriented from surprise. "Go back to sleep."

Withdrawing his hand back into the warmth of the blankets, Levi mumbled a half-hearted, "Tch, don't have to tell me twice..."

The raven's eyes slid shut once more and he seemed to fall asleep almost immediately. Eren crawled back to the other couch and curled up on it himself, finding his brain to be having trouble processing what had just happened. That was a side of the raven-haired tattoo artist he'd never witnessed before - outwardly showing his concern like that. Part of the brunet wanted to excuse it as sleepiness or effects of his withdrawals, but another, bigger part wanted it to be a legitimate thing that came from Levi himself, no excuses.

A memory resurfaced. It was Levi, speaking to him in the underneath the light of the streetlight in the corner of Eren's front yard.

"You're different. You...fascinated me. Made me feel."

And another one, in the shop a month later.

"How the hell do you do this to me?"

"Do what to you?"

"Get under my skin and make me feel things I'm not supposed to feel."

There were several more he remembered, cases where Levi had, in his own way, admitted his own feelings to the teenager.

And suddenly Eren knew that somewhere, buried and hidden under layers of addiction and withdrawal, at least part of his feelings were requited. This left his head spinning and his heart racing. He could still faintly feel Levi's gentle fingers on his cheek, the heat that radiated from the touch still evident in every one of his nerve endings.

Whispering to himself, he uttered two words:

"Holy shit."

*~Attempted Recovery Journal Entry #1~*

This is the absolute hardest, most agonizing thing I have ever had the misfortune to experience. Everything hurts in every way and I'm so weak I can barely stand up on my own. It's pitiful, ugly, disgusting, horrid. I feel like death herself is looming over me, ready for the moment my feeble body can no longer take this torture to pounce. I feel it could happen at any second.

Yet here I remain, clinging to life by a hangnail, for one reason that remains here despite what he's seen and learned, despite the horrid truth that is my life, despite breathing in death just by being in the same room as me.

My god, he is such a fool, and I know I'll do something I regret, something to hurt his already wounded and scarred soul. I have already hurt him and the longer this goes on, the higher the probability I'll wreck him beyond repair. If he knows what was good for him, he should leave. Get far away from here. Find something that's healthy for him. He deserves this hell even less than I deserve his kindness...his everlasting kindness and the light he brings that someday in the much too near future will end up snuffed out by my own everlasting darkness.

Sober thoughts help me realize more and more how much of a monster I am as opposed to the venom from the syringe. Hurting Eren will make me the worst kind of monster there can be, and there is never ever any going back from that point on.

This is utterly all my fault.

Still...I've never been so afraid to be alone. Not when my mother died, not when I lost them, not even when Alex left for Reiner. And perhaps I'm not so afraid to be alone as I am of losing the brat. His presence has brought me something frightening, but god he's more addicting than the monster and nicotine combined. His aura is calming, free-spirited, so absolutely human...and the longer he stays, the more I feel myself becoming hopelessly attached...

Hell, what a selfish bastard I am. The least I could do is spare him as much pain as humanly possible for me while he lingers. I know I already owe him so much more than that, but I have to do something...

---

I write better in present tense and I don't know why. That's why the journal entries (which I really effing enjoyed writing and probably would've put one at the end of every chapter if I could've, hahaha) are written so much better than the story itself. Also, The Music Room is in present tense and the writing there is better, too. Maybe it also has to do with the fact that they're in first person but idkkk. But anyway thank you for reading, and let me know what you think! ♥♥

(P.S. Sorry for the long ass notes omfg)