The Home Stretch

The 55th Expedition (pt. II)

Four soldiers. Four men and women, Four people who had led lives and had families of their own. He had lost four lives, a number he wasn't comfortable with. He would have preferred none, especially since this was but a brief practice run for the new recruits. But he supposed that he should be happy that it was only four, and not more – they had been unusually fortunate in that they had been able to avoid the majority of the Titans that had gotten dangerously close, or had swiftly dispatched those that had managed to infiltrate the tight formation.

But they would have to be more careful, he decided. He had been instated as commander of the Survey Corps after the death of the Flash, and during the past decade, the body count for the Survey Corps was the lowest it had ever been. Their ranks had actually swollen, as the trainees decided that the Survey Corps were no longer synonymous with suicide. More and more men and women joined, which was gratifying to see. It was heartening to see that so many were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of humanity. But it also put more pressure on Lelouch. He knew from the moment he swore to do all that he could do to guide and lead the Corps that he would have to carry an unimaginable weight and burden on his shoulders. But there were times when his confidence failed him, especially when the mothers and fathers, the brothers, sisters, lovers, and friends rushed to him, asking why they couldn't find their mother, father, brother, sister, or lover, why they couldn't find their friend, and if their death had been in vain. Especially those questions if they had at least done some good, had helped humanity even in the smallest way, before dying.

Some were. Some weren't. But always, he would reply with a yes and a thank you, a thank you for giving their greatest treasure to their cause. He understood what it was like to lose family to the Titans, and he could empathize and imagine what it would be like to lose the son or daughter they had so lovingly raised. He had children of his own. A wife of his own, sisters who he loved, friends whom he depended on.

He glanced down at his wrist and rubbed the coarse rope. His daughter Marianne, or Marie as she preferred to be called, had tied the quaternary knot around his wrist the morning he had left for the expedition. With her long, black hair and proud golden gaze, she had worked to tie the knot with the clumsy fingers of a 5-year-old while she explained the meaning of the knot that Aunt Nunna had taught her. For protection, she had told him. She herself had braided the slim rope with the help of Aunt Euphie, so that was why it was extra special and would help protect him even more than if she had used some regular, old piece of string she had found lying around.

It had been a rough and hectic morning the day they left – Alexander, who was usually so quiet and docile, had cried and cried, refusing to let go of his mother, and Marie, frightened by the sudden change in her younger brother, had begun to sob. It had troubled Lelouch – not because Rolo had been there as messenger, but because he always hated seeing his children cry. Every time they did, it was as if it was a reminder of how terrible and cruel of a world they had been born into and how he hadn't yet been able to create a safer and more peaceful world where they'd be able to escape the shadow of the Titans and live without fear.

They had only stopped crying when he and C.C. had bent down and each given a promise to their children in the shape of a necklace and a pin. Shocked, Marie had stared at the mother-of-pearl pin that was glinting in her mother's palm. Alexander's wailing was reduced to quiet sniffles as his violet eyes were transfixed on the thick silver band hanging on a slender chain. Both knew how irreplaceable they were to their parents – the pearl pin that their grandmother had worn before she had died and the wedding ring that was so precious, their father was never seen without it.

They asked for them to hold onto the treasures until they returned. In four days' time, they promised, they would come back home. But until then, they had asked if they could hold onto them. Marie was the only one who answered, but it was enough for all of them – she slowly nodded her head before making them pinky swear that they were going to come back in four days. They had promised, given them kisses, and left them in the warm and loving embrace of their aunts, who wished them good luck and farewell with tears of their own.

His promise still stood. He was going to make it back. C.C. was going to make it back. They were all going to, with the exception of those four men and women he had lost. He simply refused to lose any more. Not on this expedition.

"Sir. All bodies but one have been retrieved and accounted for. All personnel are on stand-by, waiting for your command."

They were close. Only a few miles more, and they'd be back within the Walls, alive, safe, and protected.

Lelouch looked to the west. The sun was starting to set, which meant they only had a matter of minutes before visibility was completely gone, which would mean the Garrison wouldn't raise the gates unless a messenger was sent. Which meant being stranded outside for who knew how long, which could only mean one thing – losing more lives. Although they were less than ten miles off from the Walls, they would have to make haste – the terrain was uneven around the Quinta District, and travel would be slower than if they had gone to Shiganshina.

"We leave immediately. Keep the formation loose – it's not our top priority at the moment. Our objective now is to return to the Walls before sunset. Relay the message throughout all of the squads."

"Yes, sir."

He pulled back on the reins and Julius tossed his head before obediently cantering down the small knoll. Melting into the shifting mass of soldiers, he made his way to center front. He may have told everyone that formation wasn't a top priority, but it was of utmost importance that he at least be in his place. After all, if the leader couldn't be found, what would the men do when lost? Where would they look to find their commander?

It was now just a race against time. Each and every one of the horses were charging forward, their ears flat against their heads as they galloped at breakneck speeds. The forest green cloaks on the Survey Corps flapped wildly. The sounds of the hundreds of hooves hitting the ground over and over was ear-shattering – he could barely hear himself think. But it didn't matter – he didn't need to think in order to point his horse in the right direction.

The Walls were in sight when he heard the gunshot and saw the red smoke. He looked back over his shoulder. Violet eyes narrowed in anger and disgust – those goddamn idiots, Kento Sugiyama and Shinichiro Tamaki.

He remembered them arguing with Kallen, their squad captain. Naomi Inoue, their comrades and close friends, had been one of the three who had been killed on this expedition, and they had been unable to recover her body as it had been far too close to a Titan. Following protocol, Kallen had denied them permission to retrieve the corpse. In the middle of the argument, Tamaki had caught sight of his commander watching the commotion from his vantage point, and began yelling at him, calling him heartless for not allowing them go back.

Tamaki was infamous for being a drunkard, and with the autumn breeze, the reek of alcohol reached his nose. Another point against the soldier, he thought to himself. One for drinking on duty, another for showing disrespect for protocol and his superiors. One more point, and Shinichiro Tamaki could possibly face suspension from all Survey Corps activity for a very, very long time.

His companion, Sugiyama, had tried to drag him away, but the hothead that he was, refused to walk away from a fight and had merely shook him off and continued to scream at his commander until Ohgi finally grabbed one arm, with Sugiyama holding the other, and pulled him away after a wave of apologies directed towards both superior officers. When all was quiet again, Lelouch had only warned the captain to better control her squad before moving away to check on the rest of the Corps.

She had obviously failed to heed his words.

Lelouch faced forward again. There was nothing to do but allow the squads placed in the back to handle the two Titans that were giving chase. The squad in the back. Jeremiah Gottwald's squad. He quickly ran the list of names who were in the Fourth Squad – Sayoko Shinozaki, Rolo Lamperouge, Leila Malkal, Akito Hyuga, and C.C.

C.C.

Lelouch clenched his jaw and forced his personal feelings down. Jeremiah had his orders and would follow them until the last of his breath. And Akito Hyuga was there, the bloodthirsty monster. The Fourth Squad was comprised of some of the Corps's strongest fighters – the incoming Titans wouldn't be eating anyone.

Not when home was just over the sight and not when the Fourth Squad had been dispatched.

. . .

C.C. was up before Akito could even turn around to see what was causing the rumbling. Drawing her blades, she smirked to herself – it wasn't like her to rush headfirst into battle, but it was a 7-meter, and she was starving for some real life application. Because the Fourth Squad had been placed in the most secure position out of the entire formation, she hadn't yet been able to even touch her gear, something that irritated her to no end. She hadn't fought with her husband for weeks on end just for some convoluted camping trip.

She let Yuki fall back until the snow-white horse was close enough to the savage before firing. The hooks sunk into its neck, and she let herself be yanked off the saddle. She could faintly hear Akito's frustrated roar at having been beat, and by some old maid, no less. Her smile widened. It would feel good, her first kill would. It was, after all, a reunion after five of the longest years she had ever lived.

One swift blow would be more than enough. She would have to retract the hooks and immediately turn to kill the other remaining Titan (if Akito didn't get his act together fast enough), and then safely land without breaking any bones, whereupon Yuki would immediately gallop by after seeing her owner on ground again. She would then jump onto the saddle and catch up with the rest of the Corps, fresh Titan blood on her blade and indisputable proof that the Fourth Squad to return to its original position near the front of the formation.

Everything went according to plan. She came in close to the Titan's unguarded nape and sent a splatter of blood and a wave of smoke up in the air with one, clean cut. Victorious, she prepared herself to go after the other, when her gear suddenly jammed. The wires refused to move. She was stuck, unless she unstrapped the harness. But unstrapping the harness would only leave her completely defenseless, which was one of the worst possible things that could happen beyond the Walls.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Titan closing in. Soon, if she didn't move soon, she'd be caught in its tight, meaty grasp. She refused to die here. She had made a promise to her children, and she was going to do whatever it took to keep her word.

C.C. weighed the odds – was it better to take a stand or run? Would it be better to ditch the harness or continue to pull in hopes that it would pull free?

Turning the blade over, she severed the wires before whistling for her horse. Sprinting away, she glanced over her shoulder – it was close. Too close. And it was coming in fast, aiming straight for her. Furrowing her brows, she faced forward. It would be better to face forward than look backwards – looking backwards would only make her lose her nerve and falter, even miss a step and trip, something that she couldn't afford to do.

She clung to her horse's mane as she fled from her grave, all the while berating herself. Intoxicated by freedom and power, she had momentarily allowed her impulses to control her, and had made a terrible decision. But why had her gear jammed? It had been in perfect condition when they had left – she had made sure of it. And she hadn't used it during the entire expedition. So why had her gear, that had been in top-notch condition, jammed?

Someone hadn't tampered with it… Had they?

C.C. looked up and stared at the hundreds of forest green cloaks flapping in the wind. Was there one among her fellow soldiers who wished for her death? Who had gone as far as tampering with her equipment? Who was there that would go so far? But more importantly…

Why?

A/N: I honestly really like what I have in store for this story, but my writing, the way it just [clenches fist] sucks ass. Ugh, I am so sorry for the crap writing. I really don't know what's wrong with me.