So, I recently learned that the ship name for Eren and Mikasa is Eremika. Awww, cute. I think I support this ship a lot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan. If I did, I would have published an official "Mikasa Ackerman Workout" specifically designed to help strengthen the muscles and sculpt some super awesome abs.

"Hand me that spatula, please, and the salt while you're at it."

"Uh, yeah, here. Anything else?"

"Well, I just need to add some rosemary to this and then we can just let it simmer…"

"Wasn't Connie supposed to get the rosemary from the herb garden?"

"Yeah, but he hasn't come back yet… although, I have to say I'm really surprised that Captain Levi keeps such a nice vegetable patch here."

"Hey, I'm here now! And you said it, Armin! There's so much stuff out there that I don't even know what's what!"

"Connie! You were supposed to bring me rosemary; this is thyme!"

"Hell, Sasha, how am I supposed to know the difference? They're both thin and prickly, so they should be pretty similar, right?"

"No, Connie, no…"

It was one of those rare, lazy afternoons that the new Levi Squad had to themselves every now and again since moving into their new headquarters at the cottage in the woods. Levi himself had left early that morning to rendezvous with Erwin to discuss their next moves; he had left the squad with the simple instructions to keep the house clean, stay out of sight, and not inadvertently die or kill each other out of sheer stupidity, but had otherwise given them all a well-deserved day off.

Faithfully, the teenagers had stuck to their responsibilities and completed their chores as usual, but they all finished by noon and spent the next few hours sparring, climbing trees, foraging for wild fruits and nuts, and enjoying themselves for the first time in weeks. Now, they were gathered in the kitchen cooking dinner together as they did each night, but instead of preparing the food under Levi's watchful eye, they had decided to place the direction of dinner-making in Sasha's capable, food-savvy hands. Those who excelled at cooking, which surprisingly included Jean, collaborated on the task of handling the food, while those who did not excel at cooking helped with the more manual jobs like gathering ingredients, hauling water, and setting the table.

Putting the final plate down in his own spot, Eren slapped a high-five with Connie and grinned. "Whatever it is, it smells great!" he called to Sasha, who gave him a thumbs up without turning around.

"It's gonna taste even better! It'll be ready in about ten minutes," she answered, tossing in a handful of a mysterious spice. "Is everyone here for dinner?"

"Yeah," Eren said, glancing around. After a moment he frowned. "Actually, no, I take that back. Has anyone seen Mikasa anywhere?"

"Mikasa?" At the sound of the name, Armin, Connie and Jean all looked up; Sasha kept busy at the range, and Historia remained concentrated on the fruits she was arranging on a platter.

Armin wiped his hands on a rag. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her since lunchtime. I can't remember if she was outside with us or not this afternoon…"

"She was," Jean said a little too quickly, eliciting stares from the others. He turned scarlet and whirled around towards the stove again. "I meant that she and I sparred a little, that's how I know," he muttered, sawing slices off a loaf of bread with a little more force than necessary. "I don't remember seeing her come in, though."

"Maybe she's still outside practicing?" Armin suggested. He glanced out the window at the setting sun. "Do you want to go look for her, Eren? We'll finish up here and the food will be ready by the time you get back."

Eren nodded. "Sure. I won't be long, but don't wait up for us if we're not back in time." Giving the others a small wave, he left the cottage and jogged out to the field where they had practiced combat earlier that day, but the pitch was flat and empty: no Mikasa. His search led him everywhere around the small property, from the spacious yard behind the cottage, to the patch of forest where they gathered edibles, to the creek tucked away in the trees where they washed their clothing, but Eren saw no sign of Mikasa in any of these places. Brow furrowed, he started towards the horse stables, the last place he could think of where she might be, a knot of worry beginning to form in his stomach.

As darkness started to fall, he reached the stables and breathed a small sigh of relief; only Levi's horse was missing from its stall, so at least Mikasa hadn't taken a horse and run off. Eren stopped to say hello to the horses, patting their noses and replenishing their water supply, when he heard a soft thud nearby. Again, there was another thud, and this time he pinpointed the noise as coming from the empty barn next to the stable he was in. He frowned; they only had enough horses to fill up one stable, and no supplies that needed to be stored away from the cottage, so barn had been abandoned ever since they set up their headquarters. It should have been quiet.

Cautiously, Eren approached the other stable with an iron brand in hand, a makeshift weapon in case it was needed. He quietly slipped through the open door and hid in the shadows, holding his breath as he peered around a wooden beam to locate the source of the noise. Immediately, his eyes widened in surprise.

A crude punching bag hung in the center of the barn, suspended from the rafters above the thick layer of straw that had been spread beneath it. There were no windows in the barn; single, thick candle was the only source of light in the space, throwing shadows against the walls. Mikasa, dressed in her workout clothes, stood panting before the punching bag, covered in beads of sweat. She suddenly tensed her body as though she were about to pounce on the bag and jumped onto it, clinging to it with her hands and knees. Slowly, she let go one hand at a time until she held on only by gripping the sides of the bag with her thighs and tried leaning back, her body visibly trembling from the strain. Suddenly, she let out a sharp gasp and clutched at her side, her legs losing their tight hold on the punching bag. Mikasa hit the ground with another loud thud, cursing under her breath.

"Mikasa!"

Dropping his brand with a clang, Eren ran over to her and knelt down beside her. "What the hell are you doing?! Are you hurt?"

Mikasa stared back at him in shock, hand still pressed against her side. "Eren, what…what are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you because it's almost time to eat," Eren explained, concern still evident on his face. "What is this, even?" he asked, gesturing at the punching bag. "How did you find this place?"

"The corporal gave me permission to make it," she murmured, casting her eyes down. "I told him I was worried that being laid up in recover was making me weak, so he suggested that I do some strength train—"

She flinched as she tried to get up, her hand flying to her side again as her face betrayed a hint of pain. Eren scowled and grabbed Mikasa's wrist, despite her faint protests, pulling her hand away from her stomach. The skin stretching across her toned abdomen was still mottled in various shades of purple and yellow, evidence of the broken ribs that she was still healing from. Snatching her hand back, Mikasa covered her bruising again, but Eren had already seen it all.

"You must be kidding me," he said darkly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "Look at the state you're in, Mikasa! You shouldn't even be walking around so much, let alone trying to do those insane crutches. What were you thinking…and what the hell was Levi thinking, telling you to start training already? You're not strong enough yet!"

His voice rose unintentionally as he spoke until he was nearly shouting, but Eren caught himself and stopped, his stunned expression mirroring Mikasa's closely. He had not expected that there would be so much anger in his tone, nor so much urgency, and certainly not the twinge of fear that he hoped Mikasa had not heard as much as he felt.

"A-anyway," he continued, looking away, "you can't be pushing yourself so hard right now. I mean, your fractures have barely mended, according to Hanji…"

As he spoke, he absently reached out to touch the ugly patches of bruises that covered Mikasa's ribs, but the moment his fingers brushed against her warm skin, he snatched his hand back as if he'd been electrocuted, his cheeks burning crimson. What had gotten into him?

"Sorry, I…"

"No, it's okay…" Mikasa's voice wavered, a dusky pink blush appearing on her face as well. She swallowed. "I know I'm still healing, but I can't afford to let myself get any weaker. The sooner I build myself back up to my peak strength, the better our chances of surviving fight."

Eren scoffed, a familiar annoyance coloring his voice. "You're not going to be of help to anyone if you push yourself over the brink," he snapped. "You need to rest up and have faith in the rest of us, okay? We're not completely incompetent without you, in case you haven't noticed."

"I never said that," Mikasa shot back heatedly. "But I need to recover my physical strength as soon as I can in case we face another attack! How will I be able to protect you if I can't even fight?"

"I didn't ask you to protect me!"

"You can't fight everyone who wants to kill you on your own, Eren!"

"Yeah? Watch me!"

The two glared at each other silently, neither one relenting to the other, until Eren saw the flicker of hurt in Mikasa's glower. Beneath the hard sheen of determination and fury in her grey eyes, Mikasa was hurting, undoubtedly from Eren's retort. And the mere sight of it took all of the fight and bluster out of him.

"Mikasa," he sighed, his expression softening. Still, Mikasa's gaze remained unbroken, the anger swimming in her eyes. Eren watched her face slip behind its usual, stoic mask and felt a pang of regret for his stinging remarks. Cool, calm Mikasa; it was not so long ago that he had seen her completely stripped bare to her rawest emotions, too injured and weak in the knees to stand up and fight for herself anymore, the tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

How long had it been since he'd seen her cry like that? Eren couldn't remember if he ever had, despite the many years he had spent in close quarters with her. On the day she had lost her parents, she'd let only a single tear or two slip, and she had been so young back then. Even on the day that Shiganshina fell, when even the burliest men had dissolved into a mess of sobs and tears, Mikasa had not cried. She did not cry when they were forced to work as refugees; she did not cry when training for the corps became so tough that other cadets twice her size resigned the military to work in the landfills; she did not cry when they mourned the losses of friends and comrades in battle as they stood silently by the blazing pyres.

But she had cried for Eren. She had shed tears for him when he emerged alive from his Titan body for the first time, Armin told him, and she had shed tears for him as he recovered from his second fight with Annie, too incoherent to signal that he was awake but conscious enough to feel the drops splash onto the hand that Mikasa clasped between her own. And she had shed tears for him—with him, rather—as they came face to face with the Titan they had seen devour his mother years ago, and then Hannes mere moments before, and they had both seemingly resigned themselves to their imminent deaths.

She had cried and smiled brilliantly and thanked him, thanked him, for everything he had done for her even though he could not in that moment recall anything good that he had brought into her life. And then his eyes had frantically searched her face as she drew closer and closer to him, although he didn't know what for, and when his frantic gaze finally came to rest on the thin scar marring her right cheek, he'd felt something in his heart snap like a ball of rubber bands and even though he didn't know what the sensation was, he knew then that he had to finally stand up for her and return the protection she had given him for so long…

"…"

Now, watching Mikasa's stony expression while his mind raced at a million miles a minute, Eren felt the alien sensation in his chest again. He forced himself to look at the scar on her face, the scar he had caused, and guilt burned in his stomach like acid.

"Mikasa…" he repeated, his voice no more than a murmur. "Mikasa, I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Mikasa bit her lip and slid her gaze away from Eren's insistent green eyes. "It's alright," she whispered, pulling her knees in to her chest. "I know you don't want me to protect you."

Eren shook his head, the guilt rising like bile in his throat. "It's not about that anymore," he said gently. "I just…I don't want you to get hurt anymore, especially if it's for my sake." He reached out towards Mikasa's face and Mikasa went still, catching her breath as Eren's fingers stopped barely a hair's breadth away from her scar. "I can be reckless with my body because I can regenerate, but you can't."

"No, Eren, you're wrong." Mikasa looked straight at Eren now, her eyes pleading. "You can't keep thinking like that. You may be able to regenerate your body parts when you get injured, but you can't regenerate your life once that's gone. Don't you see? That's why—

She stopped abruptly and brought her hand over her mouth, her eyes suddenly wide with mortification, with apologies. Eren, however, merely nodded; he didn't need her to finish her sentence to hear what she had been saying.

"I keep causing you worry, don't I?" he asked quietly. Not waiting for an answer, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then exhaled low and long until there was no more breath remaining in his lungs. He cracked open an eye and glanced at Mikasa, whose eyebrows were knitted together with concern.

"We'll compromise. I'll hold your feet."

"…what?"

Eren shifted his body so that he faced Mikasa and sat back on his heels, beckoning Mikasa to slide towards him. "You're definitely not strong enough to do those crazy suspended crunches yet, but you still need to train, right? So I'll hold your feet down while you do sit ups, just like they taught us in grade school fitness class."

He peered at her expectantly, and although Mikasa looked dumbfounded, she hesitantly positioned herself so that Eren could pin down her feet with his hands and lowered her upper body onto the straw-carpeted ground.

"How many do you usually do in a set?" Eren asked, hovering over her as he applied pressure to her training shoes.

"Um… a hundred."

"…Mikasa."

"You asked…"

Eren shook his head. "Recovering, remember? I'll give you ten."

"Fifty."

"Twenty. That's the highest I'll allow."

"…and if I don't stop?"

"Then I let go of your feet." Eren grinned cheekily. "So? What's it going to be?"

Mikasa opened her mouth to argue, but the hard look Eren gave her was clear. There would be no changing his mind. Sighing, Mikasa locked her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, counting to three before beginning her long-awaited abdominal work out.

Eren could not help but to stare. He felt his face burn and had the immense to turn away, but like a child riveted by the sight of something illicit, he could not tear his gaze away from Mikasa's body. Her powerful core, bruised as it was, remained lithe and taut as it had been during their training corps days, the envy of many of the girls and even a number of the boys. So strong, but so easily broken, too…

He swallowed. Thankfully, Mikasa's eyes had remained closed in concentration so she couldn't see him, well, ogling her, but he forced himself to study her face instead. Mikasa had put her full focus on her sit ups, furrowing her brow as breath escaped evenly through her pursed pink lips. Even with her stern expression, Mikasa looked younger when her eyes were shut, Eren decided, leaning slightly closer to her. Her features were so delicate for someone who could be so ruthless on the battlefield, and her dark eyelashes were so long—

"Oh!"

Mikasa suddenly gasped and hissed in pain, clutching at her side once again. Eren started and jerked backwards, waves of panic rolling over him.

"M-Mikasa! Are you alright?"

"Yes…" Mikasa breathed. "I just… hit this side with the wrong angle… that's all…" She gingerly probed at a purple patch on her skin with her fingertips until she winced. "I guess this one…this one hasn't healed completely yet… Eren?"

Eren had only been half-listening. His eyes were trained on Mikasa's stomach still, but now he only saw her injuries. An inexplicable feeling swelled in his chest and he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth in an attempt to quell it.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Here, you do me now."

"Huh?"

"You hold my feet down now." He took hold of Mikasa's free hand by the wrist and carefully pulled her up into a sitting position. "You did twenty, so I'll do twenty."

Hesitantly, Mikasa shifted her weight onto her knees and pressed her palms onto Eren's feet, her fingertips brushing lightly against his ankles. "Why are you doing this, Eren? You're not hurt, are you?"

Eren resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he lay back, cupping his hands around his ears. "Come on, Mikasa, we all have to stay fit, right?" he said, curling up into his first crunch. "I mean, everything Captain Levi puts us through is a lot as it is, but I've finally achieved an eight pack and I sure as hell won't let it go so easily!"

"Oh, um…"

At the sight of Mikasa's bewildered expression, Eren suddenly realized what he had just said and flushed. "A-anyway, I'm trying to build up muscle for a reason," he admitted, punctuating his words with sit ups. "You've heard about the fact that, no matter how big they are, Titans are abnormally lightweight, right?"

"Yes; otherwise, they wouldn't be able to move due to their size."

"Yeah, exactly." Eren took a deep breath before continuing. "So, Hanji has a theory derived from this fact. Assuming that all Titans were…originally human…Hanji believes that a Titan's size, appearance and power are all based on the body of the original human. Therefore, the more body mass a person has, the more they have to contribute to their Titan form. She said it's called conservation or equivalent exchange or something like that… I can't remember, but basically the bigger the person is, the stronger their Titan form will be, usually."

Mikasa frowned. "I suppose…"

"Well, think of it like this," Eren suggested, gritting his teeth as he continued to contract his abdominal muscles. "My Titan form and Reiner's Titan form are both fifteen-meter classes, right? But Reiner's is known as the Armored Titan because it's so much denser than my Titan body. As humans, Reiner is a lot bigger than I am, so if our Titan bodies are the same height—"

"—then the size difference between Reiner and you goes into reinforcing his skin," Mikasa surmised.

Eren nodded. He rolled up and kept tension in his belly so that he could remain upright and talk to Mikasa. "And remember how the Female Titan was powerful but had no skin, and the same was true for the Colossal Titan? Hanji believes that in order to create strong muscles, the Titan bodies had to make do with the limited body cells by sacrificing the mass that would be used to create skin in a normal Titan."

"Annie was so small," Mikasa added. "The Female Titan was only a thirteen-meter class, but it couldn't even be that large with skin because Annie didn't have a lot of body mass?"

"Right. The same goes for Berthold because, even though he's really tall, the Colossal Titan is so large that even Berthold's body mass couldn't support the composition of skin and other structures. That's why the Colossal Titan is so slow, too, and so full of steam. Its body is basically just a balloon filled with hot air."

"Then," Mikasa said slowly, piecing the information together in her head. "You want to build more muscle so that you'll have more body mass…"

"…and maybe I'll finally become strong enough to harden my Titan body, or at least just become stronger in Titan combat," Eren finished. He blinked hard at Mikasa, determination burning in his eyes. "Hanji thinks it's the best possibility that we have for advancing as long as I can't figure out how to harden my skin," he noted with bitterness, "and until I learn how, this is the most helpful think I can do for humanity. Try to become stronger."

Mikasa paused for a moment before sighing softly. She moved her face closer to Eren's until all he could see were her pensive eyes.

"Eren…please be careful," she whispered. "Even if it's for the sake humanity… please… don't get hurt…"

"Mikasa…"

Eren's breath caught in his throat. He could only stare back at her, this girl whom he had known for so long, whom he had risked everything for even before they met—he didn't want to see her get hurt, either. God, he wouldn't be able to stand it again, and he never wanted to see her give up the will to live ever again. These dark eyes before him, they had been so full of nothing but gratitude that day as tiny teardrops clung to the black fringe of her eyelashes.

Had those lashes always been so long?

Suddenly, Eren blinked and remembered why he had come to find Mikasa in the first place. He had been gone for so long that it was surely dark outside; would the others send someone to look for Mikasa and him? He pictured someone, Armin, perhaps, running frantically into the barn only to see Mikasa hovering above him while pinning his feet down, their faces only a few inches apart…

"Oh!" Distracted by his train of thought, Eren accidentally relaxed the tension in his muscles and fell back, smacking his skull against the hard ground.

"Eren!"

"Damn… that hurt," Eren muttered, rubbing the back of his head rigorously. He sat up slowly, wincing, blinking back tears in the corners of his eyes. "Even with so much straw on the ground…" He looked up to see the familiar mixture of concern and exasperation on Mikasa's face and lowered his eyes sheepishly. "I, uh, I guess I'm a little tired today," he lied, averting his gaze as he staggered to his feet. "It's late; we should head back, everyone probably has dinner ready by now."

He extended his hand to help Mikasa up and she took it tentatively, sucking in her breath as she stood. She seemed to barely weigh anything, Eren noted silently. Realizing that he was still grasping her hand tightly, he let go quickly as if he had been burned and hastily went to retrieve the candle before leading Mikasa out of the barn.

Night had nearly fallen completely while they had been in the barn. The sky was still just light enough so that they could see and find their way back to the cottage, but Eren held off on extinguishing the candle for the time being. He jerked his head in the direction of the path, beckoning Mikasa to follow. He didn't know why he suddenly found it so difficult to talk to her, but at the same time, he didn't want to let her out of his sight. Ever since their encounter with the Smiling Titan, Eren had felt a strange unease around Mikasa that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, per se, but he could not shake the feeling that, no matter how hard both of them might try to recuperate and recover from that incident, they would never be able to return to being the same way they were before.

But perhaps that would be alright.

"Ah—!"

Eren whirled around in alarm as he heard Mikasa gasp sharply, having stumbled over a protruding root that she didn't manage to see in the dark. Reflexively, he shot his hand out and gripped her forearm, pulling her back onto steady feet. Embarrassment shone on Mikasa's face.

"Are you alright, Mikasa?"

"Y-yes. I'm sorry, I still have a lot of work to do to get back to the way I was before." She shook her head. "Don't worry about me, Eren. I promise I won't trip again."

"It's okay." Eren held his gaze steady to hers, absently observing the faint blush of her complexion. Unlike earlier, he slowly lowered Mikasa's hand down to her side this time before releasing his grasp. He grinned.

"If you fall, I'll catch you."

Hooray for cheesy endings.

A/N: Inspired by the part in Chapter 51 when Eren notes that Mikasa's been working on her abs, and Jean's like asekfjaeiheflk. I think that prior to Chapter 50, Eren probably didn't think too much about how he saw Mikasa, although he certainly was all for protecting her. But when they both thought they were going to die, Eren finally realizes how much he actually cares for Mikasa, and maybe even realizes that he may have stronger feelings for her than he'd previously acknowledged. So, I thought that this would be a good time to kickstart this ship. And, I really wanted Eren to talk about his eight pack. God, when did he get that eight-pack and why don't we see it more often...

Also, I gratuitously inserted my own theory about Titan composition (and FMA reference) in there, heh. What can I say, I'm a science major; support the law of conservation of mass! Such a nerd, I know...

Thanks for reading! xx