Silly Little Soldiers

by KatherineOfArrogant

Reiner Braun was raised to be full of contradictions. His mother raised him to trust everybody, and the military raised him to trust nobody. He knew many useful skills in life, like budgeting and sewing, but also only knew useless skills in life, like budgeting and sewing. The only thing they could agree on was that Eldians were bad, Marleyans were good, and war was worth dying for

7. Chapter 7

Absolutely no one is going to believe me, but this was inspired by Netflix's Radium Girls, NOT recent world event. In fact, this was conceived a few years back before everything went to crap.

Chapter 7: The Great, Imagined Syphilis Epidemic

As soon as they returned back to Narcissus, things persisted as normal- just as Zeke had said. They got one night of sleep before getting up early and doing drills, minus Porco who had been admitted to the hospital as soon as they got back.

They started with something light, a simple jog around camp. Despite that, Reiner was almost immediately out of breath. Even as he fell behind the others he pressed forward, eventually Bertolt and Pieck slowed down and took pity on him. He had thought that he just had to press forward, that his body would get used to it eventually. As with most things in his life, he was soon proven wrong.

His steps started to land a bit harder, his legs shook whenever he put pressure on them, his chest was tight and his head was light. Then, his vision turned white.

"Breathe in through your mouth and slowly exhale through your nose." The doctor instructed.

Reiner had woken up moments after passing out face-first on the ground with his nose bent and bleeding. The pain created its own delerium not related to the recent spell, so Magath generously gave Pieck and Bertolt permission to walk Reiner to the med tent. Magath had then turned to see Marcel and Annie giving him expectant looks, and to that he sighed and dismissed them for the day. Marcel had run off towards the hospital- probably to visit his brother- and Annie to the mess hall- probably to visit some barely edible leftovers and stress eat.

When Reiner got to the hospital, they stuck him in a bed in the same corner as Porco while the Doctor poked and prodded at his poor nose. Reiner breathed as he was told, and tried not to panic at the high pitched whistling that ensued.

"Is that okay?" Bertolt asked hesitantly. It certainly didn't sound okay.

"Uh, probably." The doctor shrugged, intently inspecting the boy's broken nose and thoroughly invading his personal space. "I'm sure that will go away when the swelling goes down. I'll tell the nurse to get you some anti-inflammatories."

"Will it at least heal straight?" Reiner asked, cautiously feeling at his nose.

"Uh...probably. Look, I'm a doctor, not a fortune teller. Sometimes you just have to wait and see."

Reiner looked down in dismay, "Oh…"

Pieck gently patted his shoulder and offered a conciliatory smile, "For what it's worth, no one liked you for your cute, dainty nose."

Reiner gave her a flat look, "Thanks." She giggled.

The doctor cleared his throat loudly to get their attention, "So, you said you fainted." He started, grabbing a manilla folder off his bedside and opening it. He slipped a pair of reading glasses on and waited for Reiner's answer.

"Yeah…" Reiner confirmed, embarrassed. He fainted because of such a simple, routine exercise he used to be able to do in his sleep. At this point, he was lucky Magath didn't send him back to Marley then and there.

"Have you experienced any shortness of breath recently? Pain or difficulty breathing? Any rashes like frostbite? Bleeding gums?"

Reiner paused, thinking, "Yes, all of them. I got a rash on my wrists and behind my ear a few days ago. And I just thought I wasn't brushing my teeth enough."

"Well, that's probably also true." The Doctor said as he got a plastic baggie out of his coat pocket. He got a cuetip and, roughly grabbing Reiner's face, swabbed the inside of his cheek. "And I understand the Warrior Cadets just got back from active combat, correct?"

Since Reiner's mouth was busy, Pieck answered for them, "yes, we just got back yesterday."

The Doctor gave a noncommittal hum, "Well, we'll get this to the lab and find out just what's wrong with you." He smiled, and Reiner once again got the feeling he was being made fun of. With that, the Doctor left.

There was a pause.

"Wait, what lab?" Pieck asked, and the boys just shrugged.

Porco laughed cruelly from his bed, "Not so great now are you Reiner? I bet you regret making fun of me for being stuck in the hospital while you guys got to train."

To Reiner's knowledge, at least, he did no such thing. He remembered asking Porco how long he would be in the hospital and mentioning that he would have to miss training. Still though, "At least I can still train with a broken nose." Reiner huffed.

"Even when fainting like a girl?" Porco laughed again, but his face suddenly fell completely, "It's Syphilis, ya know."

Marcel's head snapped towards him, "Porco- who told you you have syphilis?" He asked in pure bewilderment.

"The doctor." Porco stated matter of factly, "duh."

"No," Marcel started, pinching the bridge on his nose, "You can't have syphilis. It's impossible, it's-! Your-! I think at least…" He trailed off, looking between Porco and Reiner's confused, innocent expressions, "Yeah, no. You don't have syphilis. It's venereal." He stressed, as if that answered any of their questions.

Bertolt gasped, "I think that means deadly." He whimpered, "I had an aunt that died from syphilis!"

Pieck looked around the room, alarmed, "I think a lot of my neighbors have died of syphilis- now that you mention it!" Her breathing started to pick up, "This can't be happening."

Reiner's face morphed into pure horror, "But-! I feel fine, I can't be dieing!" Bertolt took his hand in both of his and gave him one of the teary eyed looks that never failed to make Reiner on edge. Especially given the situation. With nothing else he could do, he stared numbly at his hands in his lap.

Porco looked around panicked, tears already starting to form in his eyes, "Is that ture? Is it really deadly? How did this happen?" Marcel was about to answer, but before he could Reiner got out of his bed to face Porco completely. Internally, Marcel sighed in relief. Reiner maybe wasn't the smartest or most sensitive of the group, but he could at least be counted on to, in the very least, distract his brother from bad thoughts.

"Porco," He started, staring unnervingly deeply into his rival's eyes, "We're all dying slowly anyway. 30 days, 30 years, in the end it won't matter. We won't matter."

Or not. "Marcel?" Porco turned away from him, voice cracking and boarding on begging, "I'm not gonna die am I?" That simple sentence broke Marcel's heart.

He sat next to his brother, "No, of course not. Not anytime soon, as long as I can help it."

"What can you do if I'm sick?" he hiccuped. Marcel stalled, trying to think of anything that would actually help his brother.

"Luckily you aren't sick. The doctors will find a cure, just like they said. Then everything will be fine, and until then I'll be with you as much as I can. That goes for Reiner too, of course."

"Promise?" he sniffed.

"Promise." Marcel smiled, glancing around the room. It looked like everyone else had calmed down as well. He breathed a small sigh of relief, good.

After the Cadets were told they had to leave, Marcel left Reiner and Porco to look for the doctor. He had a few clarifying questions for the man, first and foremost how serious the boys supposed illness was.

He first looked around the medical tent, and couldn't find the doctor, and apparently the nurses didn't know either. One particularly helpful nurse suggested he would find the doctor in the alcove between the officer's club and Lieutenant Colonel Capella's tent.

Marcel followed the faint smell of cigarette smoke and found him lounging on a wooden crate, a cigar in one hand and a flask in the other. As to not ruin his chances at getting an actual answer, Marcel tried to hide how disgusted he was.

"Excuse me, Doctor?" And Marcel suddenly realized he didn't know his name.

"What do you want?" He asked, before taking a swig from his flask.

"I was curious about my brother's diagnosis. You told him he had syphilis, but that just doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, well, it's been going around camp recently. Fucking animals...uh, not you though."

"Thanks, but I don't think you understand. My brother can't have syphilis...he's nine. I don't think pneumonia is even a complication from that. I was just curious how you were diagnosing this, or if you're treating him properly."

The doctor scowled, "Sorry, I didn't realize you were such a world renowned doctor. What medical school did you go to? Maybe we could review notes." He threw his cigar on the ground and squashed it under his boot as he stood. "Look, I know you're some know-it-all kid that's got everything figured out but just leave this alone. Your brother has been through enough already, and I think he can really use your support right now." The Doctor said before strolling away.

Marcel frowned, getting the distinct feeling he was just made fun of. Also that the doctor's bedside manner left a lot to be desired. More importantly though, he was struck by how bizarre the interaction was. It didn't put Marcel's suspicions to rest, quite the contrary.

He pursed his lips and turned to leave, he had a lot to think about.

To no one's surprise, that morning the doctor came to Reiner with grim news. He had syphilis, but it was luckily -mostly- treatable with medications. "Most of the time with some medication you can live a normal life." The doctor had said sympathetically, "But if you can't, just know that no one was to blame. This is nothing to be ashamed of, almost all the men here have it!"

Reiner couldn't be sure, but he thinks he recognizes most of the men around the ward as also being in Suvla. In that awful bunker, at the very least. Reiner had also spent some hours trying to see if he could catch sight of the sympathetic nurse again, but he never did. It was like she had just disappeared somehow.

With nothing better to do than interacting with Porco, Reiner busied himself with pressing his tongue against newly loosened teeth and staring into nothing. Slowly, he reached into his mouth to play with one tooth in particular that was bugging him. It came out immediately without much pressure applied.

"Woah," Reiner breathed, inspecting the large tooth, "I think this is an adult one."

Porco rolled his eyes, "That's impossible, adult teeth don't fall out."

"No." Reiner insisted, "I'm pretty sure this is. I wonder if the tooth fairy will give me a bonus for this…" He trailed off wistfully, amazed at the near endless possibilities.

Porco snorted, "You still believe in that? Everybody knows the tooth fairy is fake."

Reiner scoffed, "Well, I guess you can be a heathen and believe in the tooth mouse that gives you coins. I bet you're one of those crazy people that put their teeth in slippers." In reality, Reiner really didn't care about what mythical creature brought him money, just that something did and for whatever reason that thing wanted teeth. Reiner still had a few of those left.

Porco opened his mouth to retort, but a passing nurse interrupted them. "Oh no honey, I need that." She got a little baggie, just like the one the Doctor had, and took the tooth from Reiner's hand. She put it in the bag, wrote a bunch of numbers down on it, and then left with no more explanation.

Reiner looked at his hand where his tooth once was in despair, "I'm never seeing that tooth again, am I?"

"Probably not." Porco agreed. They both glanced towards the entrance of the tent when they caught the flap opening in their peripheral vision. Zeke strode in with his typical relaxed stride and Annie trailing behind him, holding a couple stacks of papers.

"Porco, Reiner, any idea when you'll get out of here?" Zeke greeted plainly.

"I'll get out tomorrow morning- if nothing goes wrong." Reiner said, and Porco just shrugged.

"I'm glad you're both feeling well," Zeke smiled, completely ignoring Porco's attitude and Reiner's obvious anxiety. "And since you're feeling so good, it's time you fill out your mission reports. Reiner, you didn't have to do this last time for obvious reasons, but it's no different from the ones you did in class." While he spoke, Annie tossed the papers in both the boys lap. As she turned to presumably leave, Porco beckoned her over, "But if you don't remember, directions are on the front page along with the loyalty oaths."

Whenever someone was deployed, once they returned back to camp they always had to sign an up to date loyalty oath. In addition to this, Cadets and officers had to fill out a report detailing the events that happened during combat. Reiner had no idea what command did with these reports, but he was always very good at them nonetheless.

After Zeke and Annie were gone, he got to work on his flawless report.

The next morning Reiner was released from the hospital, leaving Porco alone with all the other sick men. Reiner actually felt bad about it, he remembered how lonely and boring sitting alone in the hospital was. It was a depressing experience to be surrounded by death like that.

He hesitated after the doctor left, glancing back at his "friend" hesitantly. "Are you gonna be okay by yourself?"

Porco scoffed, "I'm not a crybaby like you. I'll be fine, and Marcel is annoying enough by himself. I'm glad you're leaving."

Reiner sighed in relief, "Good, I was starting to feel a little guilty about leaving you alone."

For some reason, Porco's glare only intensified. He leaned over and snatched Reiner's tapioca pudding cup from his bed stand, "And you can't take food out of the hospital." he smirked, tearing it open.

"Hey, I owe Annie 15 of those…" Reiner weakly protested, knowing it was useless either way. With another long suffering sigh he had learned from Zeke, Reiner left the tent with his bag containing his uniform thrown over his back.

Porco sighed as he sat back in bed, hating he would have to stay in here for more time. It filled him with a bubbling, ferocious anxiety, thinking people were gonna leave him behind in this coffin. They were supposed to go back to Liberio soon, would they just forget him here?

And now, he was alone again with the coughing and vomiting people that were barely alive anymore. Was that what he would waste away to? It was too terrible to think about, and in an effort to outrun his thoughts he stood from his bed- intent on walking away.

"Kid!" Someone yelled, Porco turned and saw the doctor glaring at him. "Get back in bed before I cite you on Article 9, section 18."

Porco growled and glared back at the man, but ultimately returned to his bed anyway. That damned law, that in theory forbade the destruction of government property, but in practice was just another way for Marleyans to control Eldians.

Whatever, Porco thought, at least he wouldn't have to deal with this when he became a warrior. He could finally get some respect, just some basic humanity from the government he was fighting to protect.

Reiner took his time walking back, knowing he was excused from cardio exercises for the next week and he already had breakfast at the hospital.

The air in Mantega seemed to finally be cooling down slightly, although it was still as wet as ever. Back in Marley the leaves were already starting to change colors and become wonderful shades of amber, gold, and orange. Here though, Mantega had two seasons: wet and hot, and wet and cold.

When he got back to his tent, he threw his bag down and was about to lay down when he noticed something was wrong. His pillow was gone, his one and only pillow. Did he somehow lose it? Frowning in confusion, he looked around the tent but couldn't hide nor hair of his pillow.

Just as he was accepting that this was his life now, Bertolt walked into the tent, panting and covered in sweat.

They grinned at each other, "You got out!" Bertolt gasped, "Good, so everything is okay?"

Reiner bobbed his head happily, "Yep! Turns out I have syphilis but apparently it isn't a big deal." He pulled out a small bottle of pills, with the label blacked out like every prescription medication he's ever taken. "I just gotta take 2 of these every 8 hours."

"Do you have any assignments right now? They're asking everybody for their dirty laundry."

Reiner frowned, "But it's not laundry day?"

Bertolt shrugged, walking past Reiner to get his laundry. "I don't know, that's just what they told me. And everyone is required to change their underwear daily. Something about Article 9, section 18...I'd just do as they say."

Reiner hummed in thought, so that one again. Destroying government property is a very serious offence for sure. Without much more thought, he gathered up his dirty laundry and the two set out to the laundry tent. Reiner paused to read the sign posted out front the tent, which had steam pouring out of a vent pipe from the side. He didn't think he'd ever seen the laundry tent with so much activity, except for maybe the time someone put soap in the soup and gave everybody in the camp diarrhea. At least then everybody got three days off and another camp had to back up troops at some battle- Reiner couldn't keep all the names straight.

The sign was made from a sheet of paper in a plastic bag tacked on a wooden stake. Reiner squinted through the dirty, cloudy plastic:"To prevent outbreak: keep underwear separate from other clothes, don't share clothes with others, wash hands thoroughly, and change underwear daily." Reiner read aloud, "Daily? But I already have shower daily, so it's just wasteful to carry around that extra underwear. Those resources should be put towards the war effort."

Bertolt nodded grimly, "I know, but it's not that bad. I'm sure command knows what they're doing."

"Of course they do." Reiner said, continuing towards the tent, "They should just prioritize the war more than us-" He explained, opening the tent flap to come face to waist with a tall man wearing a gas mask. Reiner yipped and jumped backwards into Bertolt, knocking his laundry out of his hands.

"I'm glad you feel that way Cadet!" The man said. When neither boy made any sign of recognition, he sighed and slipped his gas mask off for a second, "Salute you major when he addresses you!" He snapped.

They gasped, snapping to attention, "Yes, Major Russo, Sir." The Major made a motion to put them at ease, holding the mask at his side.

"Good, now take your laundry to the designated area, just follow the yellow tape."

Reiner glanced around, the tent was so much more organized than it was before. It was also swelteringly hot and humid inside; worse than the hottest Mantegan noon. Men on laundry duty bustled around a makeshift counter to get everything done on time, they too all wore gas masks. Reiner couldn't fathom why, he heard a lot about syphilis- but he didn't think it was airborne. Hesitantly, the two ventured forward, all the while painfully aware of Major Russo following them to the counter.

They heaved their back up on the counter and someone immediately came by to pick it up. While Reiner couldn't see his face, he could hear the man's heavy and labored breathing. He wondered if he could even see through the fogged up eye holes. The attendant moved to grab their bags and rush away with them, but froze abruptly when Major Russo loudly cleared his throat. He stopped, and pulled a form out from under the counter.

"I need you two to sign this." He said between labored breaths, "I'm also required to inform you that under the watchful eye of Major Angelo Russo all your clothes are now thoroughly washed to ensure your safety." That made Reiner pause writing, were they not clean before? He glanced at Major Russo for some clarification, but the man seemed too busy preening at his own genius to give two kids much mind. Reiner chose to ignore that last comment.

After the man scurried away with their laundry, Major Russo steered them to the opposite end of the counter to get clean sets of uniforms. Despite the short walk, it seemed to drag on forever as the Major continued to drone on and on.

"Were you kids aware that infected clothing within 6 inches of each other can transmit the deadly syphilis bacterium? It's nearly impossible to find in a patient when doctors aren't looking for it, yet it's so deadly. That's why I find this so important to take with all seriousness, for the protection of these brave Eldian fighters. I believe Lieutenant Colonel Capella sees my practicality as well, perhaps even enough to get a transfer to Rimini or Tarraco."

Reiner discovered Major Russo really liked to talk about Major Russo. Perhaps a little too much.

"Of course, if it was up to myself all Eldians would have the same level of protective gear as the Marleyans." Bertolt and Reiner shared a quick, confused look. "I really do care about your people's plight and all, but my talents really lie in administrative work. You'll understand when you get to my level in the military, and I must say it's very impressive how you've managed to survive so many trials and tribulations. I have much faith in this generation of Cadets, you're really something special."

They had finally gotten to the counter where a very similar man to before met them, "Two childrens uniforms, along with the extra necessities." Major Russo said for them. He seemed like he was about to leave, but he stopped to rest his hands on the boys' shoulders. He looked them in the eyes and gave a (mostly) sincere smile, "I really do have faith in you two. I hope you remember that, when you get to the top." Then, he slipped his mask back on and resumed his position intimidating the men on laundry duty.

There was really only one thing the boys could think after that. Reiner grabbed his clothes and Bertolt followed him, "Adults are weird." Reiner sighed.

"They sure are." Bertolt agreed, opening the tent flap for Reiner. Both breathed a sigh of relief at the break from the stifling steam as they rounded the corner towards their tent. They smiled when they spotted Pieck approaching them with a full bag of clothes slung over the back.

"Oh! Reiner, you got out. That's good." She smiled her signature tired smile. "That means you're fine then?"

"Mostly, I just have to take some pills and stuff." He huffed, "And someone stole my pillow, I thought someone took it to the laundry, but I didn't see anyone else do that."

Pieck hummed, "That's too bad, could I see the medication? I'm curious what they give the patients."

Reiner eyed her suspiciously, before retrieving the bottle from his pocket and handing it to her. Pieck inspected the bottle, but the blacked out label was less than helpful. She twisted the cap off and frowned, "These just look like generic painkillers from the corner store."

"Huh, weird." Reiner agreed, taking the bottle back, "Well, whatever the doctor says, I guess."

Pieck shrugged in half-hearted agreement, "Yeah. So you guys just got back from laundry. I hear people are really freaking out about this, but it can't be that big of a deal." She reasoned, considering Reiner was mostly fine.

"Major Russo is acting strange." Bertolt remarked, "Like, too nice and talking a whole lot."

"Oh, he's just grifting." Pieck stated simply with a half shrug, "Adults do that sometimes when they think they can get something from you."

"But what could Major Russo get from Edlains?" Reiner asked.

"Not just any Eldains," Pieck clarified, "Possible Warriors. Even among Marleyans warriors have a lot of influence, just look at War Chief Werner. He's head of all Eldian affairs and is a Warrior, and Major Russo would even be under his command as a Major at an Eldian base." Bertolt and Reiner gaped at the revelation. Reiner hadn't even thought about the amount of influence he could get as a Warrior, just the glory as an honorary Marleyan. Could he even handle that much responsibility? He wilted, probably not.

"Scary…" Bertolt whispered, "So, we could have that much power?"

Pieck smiled and bobbed her head, already moving towards the laundry tent, "Well yeah, that's the point isn't it? Power and money?"

That left the boys in a tense silence, hesitantly glancing at each other. Reiner took a deep breath, "Come on Bertolt, let's go back to the tent."

Marcel peered through a slit in the flap to the hospital tent. No sign of the doctor, and only a few nurses milled around. He took a deep, steadying breath. He certainly didn't like the idea of spying on his own government, and every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn away- to forget about all this. But then:

"Marcel? I'm not gonna die, am I?"

No, he had to do this. He didn't know what he was going to do with whatever he found, but he couldn't just sit there and do nothing. He couldn't stick his head in the sand and ignore the approaching wolf pack. Not anymore.

Finally, he slipped into the ward and pretended he was doing nothing wrong. His gaze shifted towards the back corner of the room where Porco's bed was, but the curtain separating the beds was drawn. He was probably sleeping anyway. Good, he didn't want Porco knowing what he was doing.

At any given moment, at least 3 nurses were required to be on shift by law. Right now, it looks like all 3 were busy watching the patients very closely for any sudden turns. Syphilis has a way of sneaking up on people, or so they say. Marcel quickly shoved that thought out of his head and focused on the bright side of this: they were too busy to be watching the sign in sheets.

He approached the desk slowly so as to not get the nurses attention. Right now, any sign of urgency could only make him suspicious. He frowned when he saw only one clipboard on the desk, weren't there usually two? He read the headline, "visitor sign in". He breathed a curse. Now what?

Marcel looked dubiously at the curtain separating the doctor's small office and work desk. He's seen the doctor at that desk maybe once, and he wasn't even doing work. The surface itself was pristeen, the nurses mainly used the space for it's filing cabinet. Stealing one, rapid glance over the room to make sure no one was looking at him, he darted behind that curtain.

Marcel reasoned this must have been crossing some line, but it would simply be too suspicious if he started asking around camp for people who had syphilis. Something primitive told Marcel that it would be a terrible idea. He tried the desk drawers and to his relief they were not locked. Unfortunately they had nothing of help in them: paper, paperclips, staples, tape, pens. Nothing useful.

He turned his attention to the file cabinets instead and, glancing at the bustling shadows behind the curtains, moved towards it. He tried each one, and none of them opened for him. He huffed, troublesome.

When Marcel suddenly heard the urgent 'clickclicklcick'-ing of the head nurse's heels he dove behind the desk for cover. He curled up into a ball under the desk, desperately holding his breath and screwing his eyes shut in a childish attempt to will the world away. The footfalls stopped, and Marcel chanced opening his eyes. He held back a shocked gasp when he saw her legs right in front of him.

She began opening drawers only to slam them shut immediately, all the while muttering angrily to herself. Each time one of them slammed shut, Marcel jumped a little more. Finally, she found what she was looking for and started to write something on the desk.

Before he could wonder what she was writing, she turned suddenly and approached the cabinets only a few feet away from Marcel's hiding spot. She bent down to unlock the cabinet closest to the floor, she would be able to see Marcel with just a small head turn. He froze.

The head nurse pulled out a thick, unlabeled file and slipped whatever she had written on in it. Marcel inhaled sharply when he recognized the patient information sheets he had been looking for.

"Why do they always put the most used documents in the lowest cabinets. I'm not as young as I used to be." She murmured haughtily, standing up slowly. Marcel couldn't see it, but she paused to look at the open drawer with contempt. She turned, and for a second Marcel thought she may leave it open. Those hopes were dashed when she slammed the back of her heel into it, slamming it shut with a loud BANG.

When the footsteps faded into the distance, Marcel finally climbed out of his hiding space. He was about to give up and go back to the tent and maybe visit his brother while he was here, but he caught a glimpse of the cabinet drawer before he did. It was open slightly. When the Head Nurse slammed it shut, it must have ricocheted off the frame and never locked completely. Holding his breath, he pulled it open slowly to avoid any creaks or groans that may alert anybody over the bustle of the hospital.

He opened the folder on the ground next to him. All of the papers were patient sheets, some with more information than others but there was one thing they all had in common: their ailments were all written as syphilis. There had to be at least 60 men represented in that file. He swallowed thickly when he found his brother halfway through the stack. That's when he noticed something strange, and he went to the first case at the beginning of the file. Despite so many cases, the oldest one was only 5 days old. Just as the first trucks were returning from Suvla.

Now that Marcel thought about it, it had to have started in Suvla because that's when Porco got sick. Reiner too. Marcel was by Porco's side every second of every day- he made sure of it. Why hadn't Marcel shown any symptoms, despite being much closer to Porco than Reiner or anyone else?

As much as he would like to comb through everything, he didn't have enough time. Marcel searched the desk for a pen and paper and hastily wrote down the first ten names he saw. He stuffed the paper in his pocket before gently replacing the file and closing the cabinet.

He stood, took a deep breath, and smoothed out his clothes. He may as well visit his brother, while he was here.

Soon after Reiner and Bertolt dropped their clean clothes off in their tent, they left again because Bertolt had his own duties to attend to. Reiner tagged along too since it didn't take any strenuous work- just sitting on top of a patrol tower for a few hours with guns ready. There was a bell next to them that one of them rang every hour on the dot to signal someone's shift change.

After that was lunch, and then they were allowed back into their free reign of camp for a couple hours of recreation. The Cadets were largely discouraged to hang out with the other eldians, adult or child, and no one wanted to interact with a Marleyan more than necessary. It was a mutual feeling.

Not that Reiner disliked Marleyans- he had no right to as a filthy devil mutt with sinful blood. He should be lucky they tolerate his presence at all and graciously allow him to prove his worth after so many mistakes. No, he just… had no reason to. It was disrespectful to approach a commanding officer for trivial matters anyway, so it was for the best.

With recreation limited, the Cadets mainly spent time in their tents reading whatever Zeke got them from the officers club bought with petty favors. That's exactly where they went after the mess hall was dispersed: Reiner and Bertolt to play a card game and Zeke to take his afternoon nap. Annie and Pieck had also retreated to their tent, probably for similar activities. Marcel had darted away before Reiner could see where he was going, but he had to assume wherever he was was safe, he didn't need to worry about him.

"By the way, Bertolt." Zeke said as they walked, pulling out a small stack of papers from his jacket, "I picked up your report from Magath's office before he read it. It needs some work if Magath is going to accept it." Somehow, that seemed like a veiled threat to the boys.

"W-what's wrong with it?" Bertolt stammered, face growing pale. He was sure he had included enough detail.

"It's...wordy, I suppose." Zeke noted slowly, carefully teasing out the words while rubbing the peach-fuzz on his chin, "With a few edits It'll be fine. I think."

"O-okay, I'll get on that."

Zeke opened the tent flap for them and Reiner filed in first. He made a bee line for his bed, but froze completely when he saw the contents. It was his pillow, half of it at least. With cheap downy stuffing tumbling out the side and all over his bed.

He swallowed thickly, "Zeke?" He asked, reaching for the mangled pillow, "I think someone is trying to kill me…" What else could a dismembered, previously thought lost pillow turning up on your bed mean?

Zeke took one look at the scene before flopping down on his bed and taking out a book, "Yeah, a whole country of them and then some. What else is new?" He scoffed.

"Oh." Reiner straightened, considering his words, "You're right." This really didn't mean anything special, lots of people want to kill him- and those people are a lot more direct about it. Maybe this was a courtesy. With that in mind, he got his sewing kit out from under his bed and got to work closing the pillow.

Bertolt sat down on his cot across from him, "Is that your old pillow?"

"I think so." Reiner agreed, "Oh! And Zeke, I got my report done while I was in the hospital." He set his work down to get it from his bag, beaming at his own work.

Zeke hummed and took it, glancing the report over before putting it on his bedside table, "Good work. Command will be pleased." Reiner couldn't keep the smug smile off his face, it wasn't often he beat Bertolt in something intellectual.

Bertolt shifted in his seat self-consciously, "Can I see what you wrote?"

Reiner grinned and took the report off Zeke's table before he could say anything, "Of course!"

Bertolt took it and looked it over, and was immediately stuck with how short it was. His own was at least five pages while Reiner's was only a page, his handwriting was even bigger. He read the first lines:

'Suvla was good. Moonie Savages attacked us and we retreated up a hill to the machine guns. They were really effective in killing Moonies and kept them away from the Marleyan officers. Great design. Then, the genius Marleyan commanders deployed gas and made the Monnies go back to Suvla...'

Bertolt looked back up to Reiner, as if to see if he was serious. When he did, his friend leaned back with a satisfied smirk, "I know! I never really thought of myself as a great wordsmith until now either." Zeke snorted next to them, earning a brief but scathing dirty look from Reiner.

"It's...concise." Bertolt offered a half smile.

"Flawless" Zeke supplied.

"Thank you!" Reiner smiled, "I don't know why everybody is so serious about this stuff. It can be a real bummer. So, let's look at yours."

Bertolt hesitantly handed it over, suddenly self-conscious of his "bummer" of a report. Reiner took it and started to read. The first thing he found was that it was much longer than his, and a lot more detailed. Very detailed. So detailed he couldn't make it through the first page without having to put it down.

"Most of this isn't necessary. No one cares what Private Tailor's last words were."

Bertolt looked down, "I thought if I wrote it down, the command would get his dad's watch to his brother."

"Well, I don't think that's how that works. It's just...sad." Reiner shrugged. Bertolt sighed in defeat and took his report back.

"I'll start crossing things out."

"You should probably just rewrite it." Zeke suggested, to Bertolt's dismay.

Marcel spent his rec hour talking to the men diagnosed with syphilis. They all displayed a wide variety of symptoms: coughing and coughing up blood, weezing, dizziness, nausea, the list went on. Skin irritation as well, some with large, pus filled blisters on the chest, legs, arms. One man had mentioned another going blind from it, another's gums turned black and his teeth fell out.

When Marcel talked to the man who had gone blind, he had given a blissful smile in his general direction. "I'm going home." He had laughed, tears staining the bandages wrapped around his eyes, "I don't have to fight anymore. I can see my little brother again before he comes here. I'm so happy"

The only thing was, none of it made sense. It dawned on Marcel why as he looked at the lesions on a man's forearm, it looked strikingly familiar to the unfortunate souls in Suvla that weren't able to get their gas masks on in time. This whole epidemic had started when soldiers arrived from Suvla, it must be the lingering effects of the gas.

Marcel pondered it more as he walked back to the parade deck for afternoon sparing. Porco had been wearing his gas mask as much as Marcel and everyone else, he didn't understand how he could have gotten sick. It was even a lung infection, he must have breathed enough gas for his respiratory system to be damaged.

He froze in his steps when the realization hit him and made his blood run cold. Unless, the equipment was defective and the government was trying to cover it up. He knew it was far fetched; however other Eldians were treated, the Cadets were always afforded special treatment. They were valuable to Marley, especially as the Warriors tenure continued to run out. They were safe.

For some reason though, call it temporary insanity, his feet took him straight to equipment storage. Porco and Reiner's masks should have been returned to their reserved lockers as there were limited kid sizes. It was easy to walk past the Eldian men on watch, they knew better than to question a Warrior Cadet.

Marcel took his key out of his pocket to his locker and frowned at it. MWhile he was taught lockpicking before, he didn't have the tools necessary at the moment. It also left a bad taste in his mouth to use the skills Marley had taught against them. He may as well try a legal and somewhat less suspicious way first. He inserted the key in the lock and turned.

It clicked. It opened. Marcel wondered if it was really so expensive to buy locks with different keys.

Nonetheless, he opened the locker and took out the mask. He inspected the exterior first, looking for any holes or perforations that could have let gas through. He was about to happily give up and leave when he remembered about the air filter located in the facepiece of the mask. Marcel bit his lip and glanced around nervously, before unscrewing the piece. He began to take out the charcoal filter, only to gasp when it came out in parts.

Hastily, he unlocked Reiner's locker and immediately unscrewed the facepiece. The filter looked fine, but when Marcel held it up to the light he saw it had many small holes in it.

Marcel had no idea what to do with this information. Panicking slightly, he tried to reassemble them with shaking hands and shoved them back into their respective lockers. He glanced at his watch and with mounting dread realized he was late to training. What if Magath tried to ask him questions? Then what?

So, Marcel ran.

Reiner couldn't participate in the spars, and no matter how much he tried to tell Zeke he was fine, they still wouldn't let him. He didn't even try to ask Magath directly, that would only annoy the man more. That regulated him to the sidelines, and since Magath didn't tolerate idle hands, he would have to critique everyone's forms. He was not looking forward to telling Annie she did something less than perfect, he had no doubt he would be paying for that later- medical exemption or not.

"Good." He heard Annie mutter loud enough he was definitely supposed to hear, "I don't want to catch whatever's going around and get cut." Reiner tried not to let that sting. It didn't work.

Pieck approached him when she walked up, after sending Annie a disapproving look, "Hey, Reiner. Did you like my present?"

Reiner frowned in confusion, "...What present?"

"I got your pillow back." She huffed, like it was obvious, "Well, I couldn't get the entire thing back. Porco would only let me take half and in exchange I got him an extra juicebox. Not bad though, hm? A half is better than none, that's just basic math." She smiled, and Reiner didn't have the heart to tell her that's not how pillows worked.

"Oh, uh, thanks?" He smiled, although it sounded more like a question. Pieck seemed satisfied though, and she trotted off to begin preparing for her fight with Annie. When he was sure she wouldn't see him, he groaned in frustration.

He glanced over everyone again, and noticed that Marcel hasn't come back from his rec hour yet. Just as Reiner was about to ask the commander about it, Marcel jogged up, looking frantic and flushed. "Marcel?" Reiner ventured hesitantly.

Marcel's head whipped around to look at him, and Reiner took an instinctive step back. Seeing this, Marcel tried to straighten himself out, "Good to see you out of the hospital." He smiled, "How are you feeling?"

"Um, good I guess. I was really surprised how everybody is freaking out over this, just yesterday it was like everything is normal. Even Major Russo was acting weird- Pieck called it grifting. Whatever that means."

"Yeah." Marcel agreed, "It's really strange." When the fight between Pieck and Annie started, they boys sat on the sidelines to watch their technique. "Hey, did Major Russo say anything strange." He asked, much quieter. His eyes kept flickering to Zeke, who stood next to Magath proctoring the fight.

"Kinda." Reiner whispered back, although he didn't know why they were being secretive. "Like, how syphilis is super dangerous and stuff. And that Major Russo wants us to remember how much he cares about Eldians safety. It was weird."

"I think it's good." Bertolt whispered, "He seemed genuine, t-to me at least. He even wanted to get us better gear. Like, Marleyan better gear." He stressed, "Imagine having rain boots that don't leak..."

"Or clothes that don't smell like farts." Reiner and Bertolt laughed, Marcel was strangely silent though. Reiner glanced at him, "Huh, what's wrong?"

Marcel jumped like he was caught doing something bad, "Oh! Nothing's wrong, I'm just thinking about how good it is that the Marleyans care about us so much."

Reiner nodded in understanding with a smile, "Yeah, it's awesome. If we stayed civilians none of this would have happened!"

Marcel cringed internally, Reiner had no idea. He actually winced when Pieck was thrown across the ground, holding her shin in pain. She got up quickly to limp to the sidelines, Annie behind her.

Marcel stood, happy for an out from the conversation, with Bertolt following behind them. "That's us." As they left, Bertolt gave Reiner a small wave. Reiner tried his best to look encouraging, but he wasn't fooling anybody. When their backs had turned, his smile fell immediately and he sighed in disappointment, absentmindedly drawing his knees to his chest.

The day was over, and people were settling into their tents for the night. Except for Marcel, it wasn't like Porco was there to miss him. Instead, he made his way towards Magath's office for one last, stupid gambit.

He stopped in front of the man's tent and introduced himself to the private stationed outside the tent. The young man quickly entered the tent, before coming out moments later and allowing Marcel inside. When he pulled the flap of the tent back, he could already see Magath was not amused.

"Sir." Marcel saluted while the Commander scrutinized him.

After a tense moment, Magath gestured for the chair across from his desk: "Please, sit. It must be important to bother me so late." The veiled threat was not lost on Marcel, but he still persisted.

"I-I…" His throat seemed to close on its own, and his mind went inexplicably blank. The sugar-coated speech he had practiced before had left him, leaving him only with harsh realities. He would just have to work with that, then. "I know that the reason Porco and Reiner got sick was because the gas masks weren't manufactured properly."

That got Magath's attention, he seemed to straighten and he smoothed out the papers on his desk, "How would you know that. The doctors officially diagnosed them with syphilis. Are you implying you know more than Marley's finest doctors."

"No sir! Never." Marcel frowned at his hands resting in his lap, "But...I know a liar. I'm smarter than that, you taught me to be smarter than that!" He spoke quickly, frantically, because he knew that if Magath got a word in all his resolve would be lost. "I also know it wasn't on purpose, because that wouldn't make any sense! It was a mistake, but what if the anti-war media knew about this and that it was covered up by a fake illness. I think that could really hurt your reputation"

Magath's cold exterior was shattered, and Marcel could clearly see the quiet, bubbling rage his insolence caused. But he also knew the commander didn't give into his emotions, so maybe he will get out of this alive. Even if he didn't, maybe he could save his little brother.

"What are you aiming at, Cadet Galliard. Your negotiation tactics leave much to the imagination. No, give me a reason I shouldn't shoot you where you stand."

"B-because you need us. Zeke is the only Cadet to survive years, but you can't be so careless anymore. 4, almost 3 years now left until you need to make a decision of who gets a titan- and you're running out of candidates. 3 years is not enough time to get a new batch of cadets ready to go to Paradis alone, you would need at least 2 years just for espionage training and loyalty tests. You're already cutting it close."

Magath leaned forward, his intrigue almost winning out over his rage. "What do you want to come from this?"

"I want a transfer to the southern front. It's safer there, with better healthcare, and we would be safer. Enough to completely forget about this."

"To a Marleyan base, you mean." The sheer disgust at the notion of Eldian brats at a Marleyan base was clear on the commander's face. Marcel didn't care though, if it meant his brother may be better off.

He nodded.

Magath held eye contact for a long while before he spoke again, "You lucky that the Cadets would have already been pulled off the northern front. I already got orders approved for a transfer."

Marcel, confused, asked: "Where are we being transferred?"

"Tarraco. It's time the Cadets became acquainted with the people they are succeeding. I'm willing to forgive this immaturity this time, but if you question orders again your cut. You and your brother. Now leave, before I think better of this."

Marcel gasped, and stood quickly: "Sir, yes, sir!" He gave a brief salute, before practically running out of the tent.

Magath sat back in his chair and sighed. He hated smartass kids.

The young Cadets gathered outside the infirmary because they weren't allowed inside, as the tent had only continued to fill in the weeks after the first syphilis case. Marcel was the only one allowed inside to help Porco get his things together, but most of the Cadets were fine with not going in. The hospital was like a bad omen- people that went in didn't usually come out. Reiner had already escaped from there more than most people, he didn't want to take his chances.

The entrance parted and Marcel walked out, Porco trailing behind him. He looked much better, his skin was brighter, he was standing straight, and seemed to be breathing properly.

Pieck clapped loudly, "Yay! You're still alive!" She cheered. Bertolt clapped as well, albeit more polite, while Reiner offered a harsh pat on the back, laughing as Porco tried to swat at him. Even Annie seemed happier than usual.

"Of course I am!" Porco exclaimed, "What? You thought I was just gonna keel over and die- no way!"

"I thought so…" Bertolt muttered quietly, but his concerns were drowned out by the happy atmosphere.

"Okay everybody," Marcel announced, cutting through the excited chatter, "Come on, Commander Magath wants to give us an announcement before we go back home." Just one more week, and they get to get back on that ship to go home.

They met Magath in his tent, Zeke was already there standing at attention. The others followed his lead, and the commander stood from his desk to acknowledge them.

"Warrior Cadets of Marley." He started, "Command thanks you for your service, and thinks your brave actions deserve recognition. Next time you return to Mantega, you will go to the head of command: Tarraco." Reiner suppressed a gasp, this was it. His opportunity to prove himself, "When you get home, rest well. The true fight has only begun."

Marcel swallowed, it wasn't the enemy they had to fight now- it was each other in a desperate attempt for glory. Somehow, he needed to save Porco from that as well. From the corner of his eye, he glanced to his left at Reiner, who was barely containing his excitement.

'I'm sorry, Reiner.' Marcel thought, 'You understand, right? Someone always has to be sacrificed, and some people are just born unlucky.'