She lies in a wretched heap on the floor, like a dirty rag tossed aside to be trampled upon.
"Mikasa, damn it... don't move, I'll help yo-"
Her hand shoots up in warning, causing his eyes to widen in alarm. He doesn't know how or when, but somehow she has managed to get hold of a pistol.
"What the fuck are you doing."
Her vacant stare impales him through her mourning veil of hair, trapping him in the doorway.
"Put it away."
"No."
"Ackerman, put the damn gun aw-"
"Look at me, Levi!"
He shuts his eyes tight in defiance, but her vicious command overrides his authority as she shoves the overturned wheelchair aside with a clatter. He follows helplessly as her shaking hands pull back the hem of her grimy hospital gown, revealing the raw stumps beneath.
"I can't fight now."
"It doesn't matte-"
"You should have left me there to die."
Her accusation riddles him with guilt, leaving his feeble plea to echo hollowly between the spaces of his ribs.
But I couldn't. I was selfish.
She lifts the weapon into position, his panic rising up to strangle him at the same point where she presses the barrel hard against her throat.
CLICK.
He can't answer her broken whispers, he doesn't have the right.
Because he is the devil that brought her back from one living hell to another.
"I won't do this anymore."
He bursts forward in desperation, but her boundless despair splatters against the bleached walls and crucifies his body as he reaches her a moment too late, again.
BANG.