November

"I'm telling you, there's something going on." Oruo insisted, "Gunther, any twos?"

"Go fish."

Oruo pawed through the pile of face-down cards.

"You keep harping on about it, but I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary." Gunther remarked, "Eld, got any queens?"

"Sorry man. Go fish."

Gunther grumbled and lifted a new card from the haphazard pile.

Eld stroked his newly re-grown beard, "Bring me some hard evidence Oruo and I'll listen to ya. Right now though, sounds like you're just going off gut feeling, and last week your gut feeling told you to try and reel your teacup towards yourself using your ODM hooks. Any fours?"

"Tch." Oruo handed Eld two of his cards.

"Much obliged." The blonde smiled.

"I saw them." Oruo stated emphatically, "What more evidence do you need?"

Eld eyed Gunther, "Any fours?"

"Go fish." Gunther frowned, "And you saw them looking at the stars nearly two months ago now. I remember - it was a nice night, the full harvest moon. We stargaze together all the time on expedition."

"Right, and it's never been a secret who the Captain's favourite is. That doesn't mean anything's going on though man." Eld added, "Besides, could you really imagine the guy in a relationship? His idea of dirty talk would be telling you you missed a spot while you were scrubbing the toilet. I'm not convinced he's ever liked anything ever in his life, let alone anyone."

"Not true my friend, I have it on good authority that he likes me." Oruo blustered, fluffing his cravat with his free hand.

Gunther groaned.

"And yet," Eld began, "We haven't come up with any crackpot theories about the two of you fucking."

Oruo huffed and crossed his arms.

Gunther gestured to him, "Your move."

Oruo didn't move to uncross his arms, firing a look at Eld, "It's not my problem the pair of you are blind."

Eld scoffed, "I'm ok with being blind to things that don't exist."

"So you don't think it means anything that the Captain has a favourite?"

"She brought the squad together." Gunther suspired, grumpy that they were still on the subject, "Remember the shambles we were before she joined? Of course she'd be his favourite, now for the love of Maria play your turn."

"Hold up." Eld proclaimed, "I wanna see something."

Gunther groaned again with more vigour and dropped his cards in defeat.

"Gunther, if you were Captain of this squad, who would be your favourite?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation he replied, "Easy. Petra."

"Mm. And Oruo, same question."

"Well, when I'm made Captain, and with my kill count it won't be too long until that happens let me tell you, I'd be sure to-"

"Answer the question." Gunther said sharply.

"I hardly think that question is releva-"

"It's Petra isn't it?" Eld answered for him, "It's Petra for all of us, not just the Captain. And I'm not saying that as a slight against any of us, that's just how it is."

"What's your point?" Gunther muttered.

"Nothing really. Oruo asked if it meant anything that she was his favourite, but she's everyone's favourite. I guess the only meaning I get from that is that she's a great soldier and nice to hang out with."

"And she makes the best coffee." Gunther tacked on.

"Pfft." Oruo put his cards down. "If you're so sure nothing is going on, then where is she tonight?"

"With her ex-squad at the tavern." Gunther replied plainly, "She said as much after drills, you just don't listen."

"And the Captain?"

Eld scratched his beard, "Dunno. But likely with Commander Erwin and Squad Leader Mike."

"Tch. Whatever." Oruo mindlessly batted his cravat, then stood and made for the common room door.

"Why do you care so much about this anyway?" Gunther fired after him, and he froze in place.

He turned over his shoulder, "I don't. Actually I couldn't care less."

Eld and Gunther shared a look.

"Then why bring it up so much?" Gunther challenged.

"I know," Oruo fully turned back around into the room, blustering, "Let's make it interesting. If it turns out I'm right about this - and I am - then you have to profess in the tavern front of everyone that I am the smartest soldier in the whole survey corps."

Gunther caught the spark in Eld's eye and gave him a look of warning, "Don't."

Eld broke into a wide smile, "Why not? What harm could it do?" He leant back in his chair and regarded Oruo, "You're on. And if you're wrong, then I'll profess to everyone that you're the biggest dumbass in the whole survey corps."

Oruo smirked, "Heh. Alright."

Gunther sighed, "Idiots. I'm going to bed."

Jules dipped her finger in her tankard and swirled it around the tepid cider, "It's complicated. Rose says she's not sure she can take all the anxiety that comes with each expedition any more. She's tired and it's taking a toll on her."

Her lip began to wobble, and from either side Hannah and Petra swooped in, each rubbing an arm supportively.

"So? Is that it?" Petra asked sadly, "Is it…you know…over?"

"I don't know. We kinda just left it…open ended. I can't ask someone who isn't a scout to go through that over and over again. We scouts…c-chose this, and I've seen how upset it makes her every month. But at the same time, I can't lose her. She's…" Fat tears were now rolling uncontrollably down her cheeks, and her shoulders began to shake as she tried to repress her sobs, "She's the reason I come back."

"I don't know what to say." Petra offered quietly, "That's awful."

Hannah looked at Petra glumly, twiddling with the ends of her dark blue scarf, "These things just never get easier do they. It makes you question your resolve to fight sometimes."

Petra smiled back weakly.

Jules loudly sniffed, wiping her snotty nose on her sleeve, "It would be so much easier if we didn't love each other. How am I supposed stop something so wonderful?" She choked out, "Look at me! I'm a snotty, frazzled mess of a person. Is this what I'm going to be now without her? Forever?!"

"Hey it's ok, it'll be alright." Even Petra wasn't convinced by herself.

"I'm a gross old hag!" Jules wailed loudly. It quickly morphed into a kind of strangled laugh, and the others joined in,

"Don't be silly." Petra exclaimed, batting her friends arm. She made funny face, "If you're a gross old hag, then I guess that makes me a horrid little imp."

"And I'm a screeching banshee!" Hannah laughed, "Now stop your crying and drink your lukewarm cider."

Jules snivelled, and smiling through her tear-stained cheeks, took a long swig. "Maria." She muttered, "It'll all be alright in the end won't it."

"Of course." Hannah replied with a grin, "That's the spirit."

Petra stood to head for the bar, when a shrill sob rattled the tavern windows. She turned back to Hannah and Jules, only to realise that the sound had originated from outside the tavern;

"WHY?!"

Hange.

"It's all my fault! My babies; my poor, sweet angels!"

Every single scout in the bar had fallen silent, beady eyes glued on the slightly steamed up window through which the scientist lamented, pacing in circles. Moblit, sweating and holding a clipboard, reasoned;

"Section Commander - if we to go back to the tent, we can still complete the-"

"I'm a murderer!" They yelled, hands fisting in their messy mop of hair, "They've done nothing wrong, not a single thing! And yet I tortured them. I tortured them and killed them in cold blood."

Moblit was now half chasing them around the the circle, "You're being far too hard on yourself. How were you to know they'd move into the spears' path like that? It was an accident."

"It was negligent!" They cried, "There should have been more of a margin for error - I should have calculated-"

"Section Commander, please." Moblit grabbed their shoulder with his non-clipboard hand and stared straight into their large brown eyes, "Let's go back. We can still document our findings from the day. We shouldn't let this work go to waste."

"But-" they bawled.

"It's in the name of science." Moblit insisted and something in Hange's demeanour shifted. Their eyes became more serious and they grabbed Moblit's shoulders back, the pair of them looking at one another from an arms distance apart, Hange intensely, Moblit with some apprehension.

"You're right." They gave a firm nod, "In the name of science. Chicachironi and Alberto didn't die in vain. It's our duty to honour their legacy."

"…that's the spirit." Moblit replied before the pair promptly disengaged themselves from their odd position, and vanished into the darkness on their way back to the lab.

Petra blinked, stunned.

"I'll guess…I'll go and get us another round now…" She muttered and Hannah and Jules chuckled.

On her way over to the bar, a warm smile spread across Petra's lips as she overheard Hannah cheering up Jules; "See, it could be worse. At least you didn't accidentally murder your prized test subjects."

She caught the bartender's eye, "Three pints of cider please."

The barman nodded and shuffled off.

"Not with your own squad tonight Ral?"

To her right, leaning on the bar like a true war worn veteran, stood her ex-squad leader Clara. She'd been so lost to her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed who she'd strolled up next to…

"And what's so funny? Do you think the deaths of the Section Commander's titan toys is a good thing?" The tall, stocky woman questioned. Her voice was hard as it always had been, but Petra was finding her tone particularly difficult to read.

"N-no, of course I don't." She replied with trepidation.

After Petra's promotion just over a year ago, she'd never quite seen eye to eye with Clara. Their working relationship hadn't ended well to say the least, and they'd barely spoken since, except when absolutely necessary. It wasn't the way Petra had hoped it would've gone. Clara had always treated her fairly, and even kindly when she was a member of the woman's squad.

"Hm." Clara grunted and lifted her tankard.

There was no point in holding grudges in the scouts. Life was simply too short. Perhaps enough time had passed that Clara would be willing to accept an olive branch…

"So, uh, you heard that conversation too huh?" Petra offered.

"The whole tavern heard it." Clara countered, "They weren't discreet."

"No, I guess not." Petra said with a small smile, "Though I suppose it's tough to be discreet when you're that upset."

"Mm." Clara hummed.

Petra felt a spark of something. Their first seemingly normal conversation in over a year; she might be getting somewhere. She wasn't delusional enough to think the pair of them would suddenly become friends, but at least if they could return to amicable acquaintances…

She opened her mouth when the bartender interrupted, placing the three full tankards in front of her.

"Here y'are."

"Thanks." Petra mumbled, passing over some silver coins. The bartender nodded, accepting the coins, and withdrew to serve another soldier.

"I see you got your boots back. I was worried for you." Clara took a swig.

"Huh…?"

"Your boots. You know? It was a while ago now, perhaps you've forgotten." The taller woman remarked, and Petra felt her heart speeding up.

"My boots?"

"Yes. It was early autumn, or end of summer - the night of that heavy storm. I noticed your boots in the entranceway to the office building."

Petra's whole body went cold.

"They were covered in mud. I understood why you'd want to take them off in that state but, nevertheless, you should have taken them with you. You never know, someone else could have taken them thinking they were theirs."

"I..um…" Petra's voice wavered a little. She had to hold it together, she battled with her racing thoughts, keeping her tone even as she asked, "How did you know they were mine?"

"I didn't." Clara smiled, "But I do now."

Petra's mouth fell open. She was such an idiot.

"C-Clara, sir, I mean, I didn't want to track mud in to-"

"To Captain Levi's office?" Clara's dark eyes pierced her, and she turned, arm on the bar to look down towards Petra more directly.

Petra's breath was speeding up, "I wasn't - I mean, I was, but after the night training I just needed to…uh…pick…something up…" She scrunched her eyes up. She was truly a terrible liar.

"Is that what you were doing hiding behind his door then? Picking something up?"

Petra swallowed. "I thought you said you didn't know-"

"I had my suspicions, that's why I brought up the boots. You weren't as still or as quiet as you thought you were."

"But you-" Petra's cheeks had to be crimson, as she grappled with words, any words, "Why didn't you say anything? You just left…or, you could've…"

Clara's eyes softened, "Relax. It's not against the rules, after all." She placed a strong hand on Petra's shoulder, and gave her a smile of understanding, "I was curious, like I say, I had my suspicions, but I haven't told a soul and I don't plan on it."

The ginger's mouth dropped open again, "You…don't?"

A warmth entered Clara's voice, "No, I don't."

"So, you don't think that I was only promoted because…you know…"

"Petra. I was your commanding officer for a long time. I've seen your skills first hand, I helped train you. And I've seen how far you've come as a part of that squad too. I was angry to lose you as a team member, but," She sighed, "I was letting my ego and concerns about my own performance as a leader get in the way of what was best for the regiment, a regiment that you've proven yourself time and time again to be a huge asset to. I would have only been holding you back, and therefore, holding the survey corps back. It was poor leadership on my part, and I owe you an apology." She took a deep breath, and her jaw tightened, "I'm sorry."

A familiar tautness appeared in Petra's throat, and she fought to keep tears down. Clara was notoriously stubborn, and Petra didn't think she'd ever seen the woman apologise for anything before. There was something in the air this evening, some kind of emotional electricity, some kind of spiritual release or easing, or perhaps it was simply the effects of great change in action.

"It's important to me that rumours aren't spread about you. As a woman of higher rank in the military, on occasion we have to fight to be taken seriously, or to be seen as the great soldiers that we are. I would never want your hard work to be delegitimised." She took her hand away from Petra's shoulder and swigged her drink, "Besides, I've always thought it would take a person of quite some mettle to capture Levi's interests. It's an impressive feat, you deserve to show off to at least one person about it." She winked.

Tears rolled down Petra's cheeks, and she placed her cider down, and pulled Clara into an awkward hug. Baffled, Clara returned it, giving Petra a light pat on the back.

The sweetly clumsy moment was interrupted by the approaching Hannah and Jules;

"Hey! What's the big idea?"

"Yeah dude I've never waited so long for a drink before!"

Petra giggled, "Sorry! Sorry!" And passed their tankards over.

"WEYY!" A shout came from behind them, and within moments Squad Clara crowded the bar,

"GOLDILOCKS!"

The chant began, and echoed through the tavern into the frosty night.

It was unbearably bright for an early winter's day, the air replete with freezing chill, and the first town was supposed to be fully stocked. During the previous expedition, the supply points were completely replenished, and the plan for the current one was a quick stop off here before they continued south to attempt to reach Wall Maria for the first time since its fall.

But nothing ever went as intended for the scouts.

Instead they'd been deployed in a frenzy as they hit it. All of the buildings containing the supplies had been trashed: misshapen blades and gas canisters lay bent and rusting through the rubble-filled old streets. It was a disaster. Not only that, but not twenty minutes after this discovery, they were set upon by countless of the monsters bearing down from every side.

Younger scouts cowered with horses in the centre at the old town square, as every single other squad except for the medical carts took to the roofs, shouting and swearing in detritus and utter chaos.

It wasn't long until the all too familiar crunch of broken bones shattered through the air.

"Petra - with me, we'll get the three on the left." Captain Levi commanded, "Eld, Gunther, Oruo - take out the four on the right."

"Yes sir!" The squad dove immediately into action, spreading out wordlessly so they were at even points around their targets.

They moved almost as a single organism, the shifts so subtle and quick they were almost invisible to the naked eye, and in under two minutes seven steaming piles of detestable, turgid flesh lay motionless on the ground.

There wasn't time to rest as they continued around the edges of the town like a deadly murmuration of starlings, a mesmerising sight, if anyone'd had the time to watch it, which they didn't.

Petra pre-emptively sped over a roof from behind one of the beasts, cutting a giant arm clean off, freeing up space for the Captain to spin through the nape, which he did instantly after propelling himself off of his previous (now deceased) target.

Then with a sharp look, she took the high angle and the Captain the low as they jointly slashed the nape of a smaller target, killing it moments before it grabbed a cowering soldier who was sat rocking back and forth on a rooftop, traumatised.

"Get up!" The Captain yelled at the scout, "You wanna die? Get yourself back to the horses, now!"

Petra found herself being repeatedly jolted by soul-shattering screams. It was nearly impossible not to look over in their direction, not to rush to someones immediate aid. But they had to prioritise dispatch. The picture was so much bigger than the pain of any one individual. When a small enough number of titans remained she could pray all those who were screaming had survived, and she could try and patch them up best as she could.

The squad regrouped and within moments were joined by Commander Erwin, who deployed them westwards save the Captain, who he asked to remain in position to defend Hange while they set up an arrow firing cannon. The goal was to try and stop the beasts from advancing to the town square where the less experienced soldiers quailed with the carts.

Petra propelled herself alongside Eld towards a twelve-metre, when her stomach dropped. Another scream but, a scream she thoroughly recognised. A surging sob and "PLEASE!" somewhere off to her left.

It couldn't be, could it?

She dared look over, and there, a mere three streets away, crushed in a fist and metres from the jaws of a titan, was Jules.

Her body went cold and numb, she couldn't hear anything and everything seemed to drop into slow motion. She was already moving.

First street…

Eld's muffled yells distantly punctured her bubble of silence,

"Petra - what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Second street..

She drew her blades, her vision blurring with tears.

I'm coming, hold out, please hold out…

Third street…

Jules caught her eye, her face was shining wet with weeping, her lips moved but Petra couldn't make out what she was saying. A cold light bounced through the brown of her irises just as the shadow of jaws encompassed her face…and in a crunch and burst of blood, she was gone.

Petra's inhuman shriek ripped through her throat as her blades ripped through the titan's nape and she felt wholly insane as she crash-landed on the street and sprinted past the giant corpse to get to its head. She would break open its fucking jaws if she had to, if she could-

Her legs liquified as she noticed them, and then there was nothing except her kneecaps hitting the cobbled road. Her brain filled up with a fizzing, crackling noise, and the blue-black spots in her vision partially concealed the street where they lay;

…Peter…

Stefan…

…Gerd…

…

Hannah.

Strewn about the street like old scraps thrown out for the rabid dogs, rotting in pools of blood both human and titan.

She dragged her leaden limbs up and half-ran, half-stumbled to where Hannah lay, motionless, missing a leg and with deep puncture wounds decorating her chest, her once pristine white shirt now almost entirely dyed red. Wisps of her blonde hair escaping her tight bun danced in the breeze around her dark, glassy eyes, and her lips were slack.

A stuttering breath ravaged Petra's body as she turned back to look at the titan's face, the one she'd dispatched just moments ago, it's flesh already melting away from the bones of its jaw and skull, and she finally noticed the remains of trails of black smoke in the air above: an abnormal.

From between its flat-edged teeth, Jules's arm protruded, limp, stained.

"No…no…no…"

Barely a whisper, it could have been voiced by the breeze itself.

Without thinking, and unsure of the source of her energy, she ran to each of the bodies, checking their pulse, shaking their shoulders and slapping them in the face. Maybe one of them had something left, maybe they weren't as dead as they looked-

The next thing she knew a huge force had crashed into her, lifting her roughly and vigorously ejecting her from the street through the air and flinging her useless mass onto the roof.

"Petra! What the hell is wrong with you!"

Through her blurred vision she could just about make out Eld, behind him Gunther and Oruo.

Eld was still yelling, but she could only-half hear him;

"No-one gave you permission to go off on your own, you put your life in danger - you put the whole squad's-"

She wobbled from side to side and Oruo rushed to her right side, holding her up. Gunther appeared under a second later at her left, stabilising her.

The world was spinning and she barely felt herself scream;

"THEY'RE DEAD ELD!"

Before she blacked out.

—

Eld watched with fear as the energy left her and Petra's joints folded in on themselves. Luckily the other two were already holding her steady, and they lowered her gently so she was sat, leaning up against a brick chimney, and Oruo removed his cravat and started dabbing at the glistening jewels of sweat on her forehead.

Fuck. Fucking…

Eld didn't know what to do with his adrenaline. He was pacing back and forth, head turning left and right to check there were no threats in the vicinity.

It was so messed up. Petra was the last one of them he thought would ever defect like that, and yet, he knew exactly why she did it. But that didn't make it the right course of action. And he was responsible for it.

Cool, calm and collected his ass.

"Fuck!" He slapped his own hands to his head, pressing in firmly with his fingertips, like that could change the past.

"Calm down." Gunther had made his way over and put his hands firmly on Eld's shoulders, stopping him in his tracks, "Eld."

Eld stared at him, puffing air from his nose in a controlled fashion.

"We were compromised by her decision." He said flatly.

"Yes." Gunther nodded, his eyes earnest, "But we're all still alive."

"I would've thought you, of all people, would understand the gravity of Petra not following orders."

Gunther frowned and looked away, eyes scanning the devastating horizon.

"…we've got each other's backs. Even if we fuck up." He said eventually, "That's what this is about."

Eld's eyes widened a little.

"I'll fire the flare, alert the Captain-"

"No need."

Captain Levi paced stonily towards them, stopping near the edge of the roof.

He swept his gaze expressionlessly over the bloodied street.

"What happened here?"

"An abnormal sir." Gunther said.

"You took it out?" He asked.

"Petra did."

A pause. Guttural screams and crashes distantly sounded from other parts of the town.

"What squad is this?" He queried, his eyes still skating over the limp bodies.

"Squad Clara, sir."

Only then did the Captain look back at them, his eyes resting for a split second on Petra's passed out frame by the chimney, Oruo by her side, uneasy. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

"Oruo, Gunther, take her to the medical tent, then assist with any remaining targets near it. There's a clear pathway past the old church. Go. Now."

Gunther and Oruo each gave a strong nod, but even a blind man would have been able to pick up on the worry flickering underneath their resolve as they lifted her and zipped off. Eld could see it clear as day; he knew that same disquiet was reflected in his own features.

"Jinn, with me. Now that abnormal is gone and Hange's arrow cannon is working, there aren't many major threats left. We'll work round in a semi-circle at speed, hitting every target on the way back to the centre. You work distraction, I'll take them out."

Captain Levi was, as ever, unflinching in the face of great loss and trauma. Eld took some comfort in it. The bottom line was they had a job to do. Worry would have to wait.

"Yes sir." Eld immediately tailed the Captain as they launched themselves from the roof.

Petra awoke to the rough jostling of a cart. Through the blurred auburn of her eyelashes the early evening sky swam in pinks and oranges. The air was clean, crisp and fresh, her nose a little cold, and for a while she allowed her head to loll side to side with the juddering of the rolling wagon over the uneven ground. A tiredness akin to death had taken hold of her mind and limbs, and she felt blank, numb, and it took her several minutes to remember why. Then, through her brain's fog, the memories came in sickening flashes. Her breath rasped in, shaking into her chest, and once again her vision blurred with tears, and her head began its unrelenting pounding. It became clear to her then: being awake was going to be torture.

"Oh…" She sobbed, clutching at her chest with a hand, numb with cold; a blunt implement with which she could dig through her clothes and reach in to rip out her heart to stop its excruciating beating. Weakened fingers shaking and unable to complete their morbid task, gave up, and she choked on air, like a worthless fish flung from a barrel onto the hard ground, pointlessly flailing.

Should she get up? See where they were headed? Was there any point?

She should be stripped of her title as 'scout' in any regard. She was an unworthy failure. A tormenting loop of the faces of the dead forced its way into her minds eye, like a gallery of disaster.

A quiet, strangled wail escaped her and she balled onto her side, clutching her knees to her chest, letting the slime build up in her mouth and dribble across her hand. Her eyes, through streaming with tears, somehow still felt painfully dry and she sniffed, trying her best not to feel.

Wind rustled through the trees, aping the final breaths of all those lost. For a while she wept softly, clinging to the sound of the breeze, that it might connect her to them, when a quiet rumble distracted her from it. Not the rumble of the wooden wheels hitting rocks in the ground, nor the barrels of supplies knocking against one another, but the low rumble of a human voice.

She turned her head a little, looking into the wagon to see a dark, blurred silhouette.

"Maybe not." His voice came again, and she realised she hadn't heard anything of what he'd said the first time.

Achingly she dragged herself up, peeling her cheek from the wood of the wagon and came to sit, taking in Levi, who was sat, back leant again the side of the wagon, one knee up on which he balanced his arm lazily.

"So you are awake." He said, tilting his head to her.

Snivelling, she supported herself on her trembling arms and pressed her back against the back of the wagon for support. It was then she noticed that it was just the two of them, being pulled in what seemed to be one of the half-full supply wagons in the centre rank.

"There wasn't space in the medical carts for you. Too many folk too seriously busted up." He uttered, "But since you were only passed out and we used up almost all our supplies, there was enough space here. Seemed like a good enough option for now."

She stared at him emptily, then dropped her gaze to her hands, scrunching her cloak, chewing her lip. She heard him suspire heavily, then noticed a flash of white and red on his balanced arm.

"Is that…a bandage?" Her question was almost inaudible as she blinked him into focus again.

"It's nothing." He mumbled, but her breath had already begun to come more erratically. Adrenaline pulsed through her and she surged forward, feeling some frantic madness seize her brain once more, and knelt before him trying to get to his arm.

"You're hurt - you-"

He batted her hand away, "It's a scratch, it's nothing."

When she continued her frenetic attempts to get a better glimpse of his injury, her grabbed her wrists and stopped her,

"Petra. Stop. I told you, it's nothing."

She felt tears dribble off her chin onto the wood of the moving cart. His hands eased their pressure and he guided her to sit back down where she had been and came back to his own position, staring flatly at her.

She was absorbed in the texture and colour of her cloak, her fingers twiddling in the fabric when his deep voice resounded firmly;

"You can't save everyone."

A throttled sob escaped her, and she tensed her fists.

"Petra. Listen to me."

Fighting to keep herself under control, she met his gaze again, and saw a perfect example of that control. The steel of his eyes lanced her and her heart ebbed, she could see the understanding in his expression. He'd been here before.

"You did your best, that's all that can be asked of you."

Her eyes snapped wide, "Where's the squad?", then her voice grew significantly in volume, "Levi, tell me they made it-"

"They're fine." He answered calmly, "They're riding out front spotting. We're actually one of the few squads that made it out with all our members."

She sat back against the wagon again, letting the sudden burst of energy drain from her. Her head fell heavily into her chest, and she cuddled her arms and cloak around herself.

"And…you…?" Her question was muffled by her position.

"Me?"

"If you're fine, then…why are you here with me?"

He was silent for so long that she pulled her head from where it'd been hunched over into the musty smell of her cloak.

His eyes, bluer than ever in the dying light of the sun, skated to his bandaged forearm.

"It's a small cut, but Hange still had to stitch me up." He said eventually, "I don't wanna bust it open and get it infected by hard riding, or being forced into combat."

Petra knew he was lying. He'd carried on fighting with way worse injuries than a simple cut before. It must mean that there hadn't been any titans on the way back so far. He would always go where he was needed most…

She drew in a light breath, that knowledge a small tonic to her pain.

"I…" She snivelled, "I was wrong. Either way I would've been wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"It didn't matter what I did, there was no right answer. I abandoned my squad, but if I hadn't, I would have abandoned my ex-squad. But they…" Her throat tightened, tears rained, "They were already dead anyway. I couldn't reach her…I couldn't…" She sounded strangled.

"There's never a right answer. There's only what you choose to do in the moment, and you followed your gut. You went where you were needed most."

Her eyes snapped to him.

"I was insubordinate."

"Mm." He muttered, "You were. But I don't blame you for your actions."

"Eld-"

"Will come around. He knows why you did it. He might play the fool, but he isn't one."

She wiped her tears with her sleeve.

"Don't go thinking you've got out of a penalty though. At the very least I'll have to give you laps for it."

Petra simply looked back down to the wagon's floor.

"Here." He held out a canteen of water and his handkerchief, "Take it."

She didn't move.

"Petra…"

Hearing the gentleness creep into his voice, she relented, and shakily took the items and unscrewed the canteen's cap. Wordlessly, she raised it to her lips, some water trickling from the corners of her mouth.

He sat back, gazing up at the sky, neutral once again.

A thought struck her like a bolt of lightening, if at least one of them had made it, then maybe-

"Clara?" She asked quickly, "I - I didn't see her when I came to the scene, maybe there's a chance she-"

Levi looked at her. He shook his head lightly.

"Oh." She dropped the canteen, water glugging out of it onto the wood. Slowly, Levi leant forward to take it, and capped it back up.

The tears came again, splattering onto her legs, some of them forming little droplets on the leather of the harness stretching across her knees.

For some minutes the sound of the rattling wagon and pebbles being scattered by the wheels permeated. She'd lost friends before, many times. Every single member of her training year that graduated together and chose the scouts was gone, except Oruo. Her first bunk mate Rosa, gone after only two expeditions. That was years ago now, but the losses never got easier to bear, and it'd been a while since she'd lost any close friends to the titans. It had gotten to the point where, if she were being honest with herself, she'd trusted that she'd never lose anyone again, they were all so skilled, they'd survived so many times that they'd surely always come back. Always. But she was a naïve optimist, and now she was paying for it. Their faces rattled around her brain until she felt sick. Allowing the sharp, clean air to ease her a little, she turned her attention back to her Captain.

"You've lost friends like this." Her honey-gold eyes were swimming with sorrow as she watched him for a response.

"Yes." His voice was bland, "You'd be hard pressed to find a scout who hasn't lost someone close to them to titans." He exhaled strongly through his nose, then watched as some passing birds flew overhead. Petra watched them too.

"You miss them."

"Mm." He replied, "I left them them, in a storm. It was our first expedition, and a titan ambushed them. They weren't prepared, none of them saw it coming. By the time I got back there, they were gone."

"Isabel, and Farlan…" She mumbled and he looked at her curiously. "You gave me a bottle of eucalyptus oil. It had her name on it."

A light of recognition flitted through his eyes.

"Hange told me…" She wiped her streaming nose with his handkerchief, "That they came with you from the underground."

He didn't respond, simply gazed at the distant trees whizzing by and faraway scouts on horseback galloping onwards.

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that must've been like for you. To lose the people who understand- who understand you most." The words were struggling out of her as her tempest of emotions blustered around inside. She dabbed her eyes with the sodden handkerchief.

He met her gaze again, "People can understand each other in many different ways."

She matched his look, her nose red, "Yes. That's true."

"It's important that you don't regret what happened today. If you do, it will only dull your future decisions. It'll make it harder for you to survive. And you can't help anyone when you're dead."

The cart hit a rock and jostled them roughly.

"I don't know if I agree with that."

"Huh?"

"I think they do help me. Even though they've gone, I still fight for them." She took in the rolling clouds, lit up in golds;

"I remember every single scout I've worked with who's passed on. There are more of them now of course…" She hesitated, fighting back the wave of feeling, "A lot more. And maybe this is completely stupid but I…I feel them with me, encouraging me to keep going. I've never told anyone this before…but…sometimes I think I can see their faces at night reflected in my bedroom window when I write letters home. Sometimes…" She stopped, swallowing it back, but the tears still came anyway, "Sometimes I talk to them. I tell them I'm sorry. Sometimes I ask them questions. Simple things you know, nothings, what should I buy from the market today? What would you do about this? Or anything. And I can hear them listening, guiding me." She snivelled, then forced a smile, "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You probably think it's completely moronic. I mean, dead is dead, right?"

"It's not moronic to honour the fallen however you see fit." He said, "How is anyone to know where the dead go? We all have our opinions but…" He paused, "There's no right answer. There's no answer at all. To some people, that's lonely, to others, it's comforting. You take what you can, whatever helps you to get by."

She watched his face intently as the tears dried cold in their place on her cheeks. He was full of so much quiet wisdom, and she was amazed how unjudgemental he was at her confession. Even after a year of knowing him, he could still surprise her. For a moment she wished the world could see this side of him, then she wondered if the dead could.

"How…" She trailed off, wringing his handkerchief in her hands, drawing courage, calmness from it, "…how do you remember Isabel and Farlan? Do you talk to them?"

He drew a hand around his face as though in thought, then removed it,

"They come to me at night." He said evenly.

"Oh."

She remembered that he barely slept, of his nightmares. To be so relentlessly plagued while at rest…no wonder he was always so tired.

"But…" He muttered, "I kept some things that belonged to them. That bottle of Isabel's. Farlan's knife. We didn't have shit down there, so I felt like I couldn't throw away the little that they did have."

Petra's heart was stinging, its bruises irritating each beat. Perhaps he didn't want to admit to her what she suspected, that that wasn't the only reason he kept their things: that really, hidden deep down, a part of him was sentimental.

"That and. And the stars remind me of them." He swallowed, staring down into the cart.

For a moment she watched him, waiting to see if he would say any more, but he continued to stare flatly at the wood, mute.

"That's…beautiful." She smiled, "Thank you Levi."

"For what?"

"For talking to me."

He reached out with a hand and placed it over hers, his skin rough, but warm. In the distance Wall Rose appeared, illuminated by the final wisps of sunlight, the long grey strip of brick growing greater with each turn of the wagon's wheel.