Chapter 11: What's at Stake-pt 2
"Giuseppe! Giuseppe! My Giuseppe! Please, where is he?! My Son, tell me!"
"Who do you think benefits from the subjugation of your people? Because it certainly isn't Marleyans."
Pieck couldn't continue to watch the woman weep for her son into Reiner's shoulder. She could imagine her father like that, so delirious with grief he would be willing to clutch onto any familiarity. Any possible, fleeting hope that she was alive.
It was too much to think about, but Pieck wasn't one to push those thoughts away. No, she was one to focus on them and think deeply about it. She couldn't get what Nurse Elke had said out of her mind, who was benefiting here? That Marleyan mother wasn't one of them. And whoever was benefiting, if anyone, when would they stop?
As Pieck walked back to the Liberio Internment zone in silence, she couldn't help but think the last time Marley went more than a year without being at war. With all her knowledge of history, she couldn't think of one.
She broke off from the other's without saying goodbye, and went home immediately. The idea of seeing her father again made the negative thoughts disappear as she picked up into a jog. A smile broke out of her face as she ran to her apartment, imagining embracing her father and feeling so utterly, blissfully safe in his arms like he always did. She felt a few tears spring to her eyes at the thought.
Pieck didn't even knock before tearing the door open and announcing her long awaited arrival with a proud, "I'm Home, Papa!"
Silence. Dark, lonely silence.
A terrible feeling rose in Pieck's stomach as she ventured into the cold apartment. As she went deeper in, a hauntingly familiar sound became obvious to her. It was one she's heard many times before, coming from her own friends even. It was the sound of someone who couldn't breathe. The death rattle. She ran into the kitchen, where she saw him.
Her father was laying on the ground, flat on his back. His eyes were closed, and she could see the labored rise and fall of his breath. Pieck could see his skin was pale and clammy with fever. His pulse was abnormally fast.
Pieck forced down the awful panic that threatened to overtake her and got to work. Grabbing her father's- her patient's- arm, she forced him onto his side and pulled up one knee to support him. It was the best position to ensure his airway was clear and unobstructed. With the state he was in, it was even possible he may start vomiting and if he was to choke on it, he would surely die.
She felt painfully helpless when she realized there wasn't much else she could do to help him. The best she could hope for was to call for help, so she ran into the apartment lobby to the phone. She ignored the protesting manager, and with shaking fingers she dialed the emergency number on the rotary. By the time the paramedics hauled him into a barely kept together decommissioned military ambulance, Pieck's nails were bit into bloody numbs.
The doctors at the hospital didn't seem to know how to help much more than she did. They rubbed a tea-tree oil gel on his chest and put a cold rag on his head to help the fever. Pieck knew it wasn't enough. She had seen many men get this bad, and it wasn't something vapors could solve.
She sat next to her father's bed and held his cold, sweaty hand, hoping for him to wake up and recognize her. To hug her and say everything was going to be okay. Pieck immediately straightened when she heard her father release a low moan.
"Oh, Sarah. What are you doing here?" His eyes were half lidded and glazed over as he spoke in a hoarse whisper. Pieck froze. She didn't say anything as he drifted back into sleep.
"Isn't there something else we can do?" She asked the doctor in a shaking voice, who merely shook his head grimly.
"Not much, the best we can do in these situations is pray. I'm sure God will smile on the father of a Warrior Cadet."
Which God? The Marleyan one that even Reiner knows has abandoned them? Or the Eldian Ymir, that had damned them to this fate to begin with? None of them seemed like much help now.
"Would getting a Marleyan doctor help?"
This time, the doctor gave her a calm and almost patronizing smile, "It's best to focus on what's in front of you in times like this. Fantasies can only lead to disappointment."
That simply wasn't something Pieck could do, just give up on someone she loved. She gripped the yellow armband on her arm, there had to be a way. Even if she had to sell her soul for it. Well, she was always fond of gambling.
She found herself walking to the Eldian Veterans Hospital the next afternoon. The Veteran's Hospital was next to the Senior Care Facility and Mental Asylum, but she didn't pay much attention to them or the black governmental car parked outside the Senior Care Facility.
The Verteran's hospital was unique to other hospitals in Liberio because it was staffed with Marleyan Doctors and Nurses, while Eldians were typically staffed for menial or secretarial labor. Pieck strolled up to one of these Eldian receptionists, trying to look as confident as possible.
"I have a family member that has to be transferred here." Pieck said slowly and deliberately, trying to project the same power Commander Magath did. It wasn't very effective.
The woman smiled, "Ok, hon. What's the patient's name, branch and rank?"
"Um...my father hasn't been in the military for a few decades, but he's very sick and need's help. Please, I'm a warrior cadet and I can pay whatever added costs. Anything."
The woman's red lips pressed into a thin line, "I'll see what I can do, hon. What's your name?"
"Pieck Finger, and my dad is Alphones Finger. Please."
The woman got up and left to talk to her supervisors. She was gone so long, Pieck begane to give up hope, but she came back almost half an hour later, "I can let him in, but it will be more expensive than if he was serving."
"I'll find some way." Pieck answered immediately.
As she had promised, the next morning men dressed in hospital uniforms came and took her dad away in an ambulance. Pieck made sure to ride along with him, just in case someone decided it would be easier to just leave him on a street corner. He was still mostly out of it, fading in and out of consciousness even in the bumpy ride.
Pieck held his hand tightly, just so he knew he wasn't alone. Sometimes he would open his eyes, and so smile in recognition. Although, it wasn't always her he recognized.
"Sarah, I missed you so much." Those times, Pieck could feel herself die a little bit inside. Another reminder of what she already lost, and what she's about to.
Pieck didn't know a lot about medicine, but that didn't stop her from watching closely at everything the Marlayan doctor did. They had him hooked up to all sorts of machines while the doctor, a young, wispy man with a warbly voice, poked and prodded at him. He talked at length to Pieck in big, complicated words she had no hope of understanding. All she knew was that all the treatments sounded very expensive.
After a while, when her father was resting and the doctor was writing up his report, Pieck was handed a slip of paper and told to take it to the Marleyan Military Hospital outside the internment zone to get his prescription filled and pay the bills.
"You sure know a lot about this stuff, are you a specialist or something?" She asked, looking at the list of treatments and thinking how fast he had gotten everything set up and decided.
"This is a military hospital, little lady. Lung issues are about as prevalent as amputees. I've only worked here a few months, but the things I've seen…" He trailed off and shook his head in woe.
Pieck frowned, thinking of Porco and Reiner after Suvla. The men she would see when she visited them with syphilis, all of them were coughing and hacking up blood or turning blue. "Because of the syphilis?" She ventured, trying to sound smart.
The man tipped his head back and let out a laugh as trilling and obnoxious as his voice. "No, no, I would reckon it's the gas and air pollution in the trenches. How would you know about something like that, little lady?"
She blushed and looked down, mind racing with what that meant, "Uh, I forget what they called it. Maybe I heard wrong."
He shook his head, still chuckling as he walked near the door, "I should think so. Syphilis, I'll have to remember that one."
Pieck sighed against the silence of the room, only broken by the sound of her father's oxygen tank. She looked again at the long list before folding it up and putting it in her pocket. Her thoughts still wondered back to why the doctor didn't know about the syphilis pandemic or even that it could cause those symptoms. The answer was obvious: because he wasn't a military doctor. Or at least too new to know about it,
Another conspiracy to add to the pile. First Reiner starts ranting about government spies trying to "disappear" people in Tarraco, now this. Pieck has learned to just accept the weirdness and secrecy that came with her job.
Still, there was that bigger question that persisted. Why?
She glanced back at her Dad, and realized that didn't really matter much.
Sighing again, she looked at the long list of treatments and prescriptions and left for the Marleyan hospital.
It was clear the moment she walked in that she wasn't welcome there. The receptionist with cold brown eyes looked at her in disgust before taking the list, "I didn't know we allowed devils in here. I thought our fine institution had more respect." Pieck may have been hurt by that if she hadn't heard the same thing a million times. The woman took out a book and calculator and started to count the cost. When she was done, she handed the receipt back to Pieck.
What was written was more hurtful than anything she could have said. "I-I can't afford this…" She whispered in disbelief.
"You have to." The receptionist said, "Best to remember what's at stake, that is, if you want your Daddy to live."
The next day, before the sun had the chance to rise, Pieck went back to the hospital with a few things to make her father feel more at home. According to Dr. Mazzini, he would be here a while. Her fingers traced the worn picture frame of her mother and father on their wedding day. It was the only photo of her mother she'd seen, with her long black hair elegantly curled in gentle waves.
Gently, she placed the photo on her dad's bedside table. He was asleep, but was visibly doing better. In a few days he may even be able to be released, although that didn't mean their crushing debt would be going away. The cost of the maintenance medication alone would be crippling. Pieck ideally played with her own hair, thinking about her father's condition.
She wondered if he even wanted to stay alive, or if he wanted to join his wife. She was probably an unpleasant reminder of her. But she couldn't let him go that easily. Not after so much. Maybe she was just selfish.
Pieck let her hair fall limp across her shoulder before turning and leaving the depressingly sterile room. She made sure to close the door quietly anyway, even if her father had yet to wake up. She wore the shirt Reiner had fixed for her, more than a year ago, compulsively running her hand over her chest to feel the comforting, too-thin thickness of her savings as she walked out the Interment Zone. Her dad will be going home at the end of the week, something the doctor insisted was necessary even if all the money she had collected today barely covered the cost of one night.
It hurt almost physically to see the flippant receptionist count out her savings with a lipstick-stained cigarette hanging from her lips. She put the money down and blew a puff of smoke down at Pieck. "Not enough."
"I know, it's to start."
"Try the bank, those barrons would even help out devils like you. That or give up the room." She said, before taking the money and shoving it somewhere under her desk. "Best get goin', can't have your kind milling about. Bad enough you're let in here in the first place."
Pieck turned away from the woman, biting the inside of her cheek to save face. She had been through a lot since becoming a cadet. She's seen her friends life hang by a thread, witnessed war crimes and experienced discrimination for something as silly as her parents. But she always had someone through it, be it Magath's stern presence or her friends' reassuring companionship. She's never felt so alone before.
She had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling.
"Thinky girl?"
Pieck whirled around at the familiar voice, "Head nurse Elke!" Before she knew what she was doing herself, she ran into the older woman's arms, completely forgetting any decorum. Nurse Elke gasped and stumbled back a few steps before steadying herself. Gently clasping Pieck's shoulders, she pulled away to look at her, frowning when she noticed her tear stained cheeks.
"What on earth has happened, child?"
Sniffing, Pieck explained everything that had happened. Her father, the weasley doctor, and the terrible medical bills. Nurse Elke's severe features remained stern through the explanation.
"I see, do you have anywhere you have to go now?"
Pieck shook her head, sweeping a sleeve over her nose. She knew there wasn't much Nurse Elke could or would do for her, but telling someone felt like an enormous weight off her shoulders. And any distraction was favorable to going to her empty apartment. So, Pieck trailed after Nurse Elke as she strode confidently through the halls of the hospital.
Pieck would have been happy to silently follow the woman, but something stuck out to her. "Head Nurse Elke, what are you doing back in Marley anyway. Don't they need you in Tarraco?"
"Yes, and if it was my way I would still be there. But we both know better than to question orders, Thinky Girl."
Without another word, Nurse Elke opened a door to a young soldier's room. Pieck trailed in carefully, ready to hide if the man was awake. Only when Nurse Elke quickly examined him and motioned for her to come inside did she move. The first thing that stuck her was that he was hooked up to similar machines as her father.
"You said your father was being treated at the Eldian Interment Branch?" Nurse Elke idly ventured, preoccupied with her assessment. Holding a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, she turned the pen around and used it to pull back the man's lips. Pieck gasped at the bloody, inflamed gums that turned black in some areas. Nurse Elke quickly scribbled something down.
"I-yes." Pieck responded, taken off guard.
"That is a blessing and a curse, considering your financial situation. That much money, it makes me wonder how much is necessary."
Pieck looked back to the man in the bed, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. "That man...I think my friend had something similar to what he has. The gums look the same at least."
"That would not surprise me. This man was exposed to a toxic chemical weapon commonly used by Marley. Him and some others had faulty safety equipment, I have come here to help write up an incident report. I believe it was because of an experimental type of gas mask that had just come out of testing phases."
Pieck felt her stomach drop, "I think we used those a few months ago."
"That would have been the testing phase. Suvla, correct?"
Swallowing thickly, Pieck nodded. She didn't know why she was surprised, it just confirmed something she already knew. "They said it was syphilis."
"Unfortunately." Nurse Elke started, actually sounding sympathetic, "Sometimes, working for the military you are asked to lie. Some... find it easier to do than others." Pieck couldn't imagine Porco or Reiner lying about something like that, but they were still lied to, she thought bitterly.
Nurse Elke stood so suddenly Pieck startled, and walked towards the door. Pieck stole one last glance at the man in the bed and frowned. Cautiously, she reached for his wrist and gasped at the cold, clammy skin. "He's dead…"
Nurse Elke opened the door, "I know, come along now."
It was like that room after room. Some of the men were awake, so Pieck waited outside the door, but most were so delirious they didn't mind her presence. Pieck still stayed away from them, unsettled by how much they reminded her of her dad laying in bed. Instead, she looked at the fascinating equipment. She wistfully ran her fingers across the embossed logo on the reserator: an oak tree with long reaching branches, and the name "Eir" written along the top. After she noticed, she began to find it on everything.
"What does Eir mean?" She asked Nurse Elke as they walked to the next room.
"They make the medical equipment Malrey is so famed for."
"All of it?"
"Yes. They are the only ones, so they set the price. That's why your hospital bills are so high. Money makes the world go round, remember that." Nurse Elke had dropped her voice so no one else could hear. "We're done for the day. Now, shall we take a lunch break? Is there anywhere in Liberio you could recommend?"
Pieck told her about the small cafe her and her friends liked to frequent. As they walked the streets, many balked and stared at Nurse Elke, but she stoically looked ahead. It seemed like it didn't bother her at all, although Pieck knew that couldn't be true no matter how strong Nurse Elke was. She could only imagine how many bad memories this brought back to her to see the conditions they lived in.
Nurse Elke turned in the opposite direction Pieck directed, "Head Nurse Elke?"
"I thought we would pay your father a visit first. I would like to see if this still wet behind the ears doctor has any merit."
Pieck's eyes widened and she nodded resolutely, "Thank you." She said sincerely.
When they got to her father's room, Pieck slid the door open slowly and grinned when she saw her father awake in bed. "Papa!" She ran and threw herself in his arms.
"What's all this?" he asked laughing, "My brave girl must have saved me!" His dark eyes moved to Nurse Elke standing in the doorway, "Are you the young and beautiful nurse that brought me back to life?"
For the first time since Pieck met her, Nurse Elke actually smiled at that, "No. And you should watch your tongue around a military woman." Al's brows knitted in confusion as he inspected her uniform when he realized what was missing- an armband.
"Oh! I'm sorry ma'am, that was out of line. Thank you for your mercy." His eyes were glued to the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the woman. Pieck giggled, to her father's dismay.
"I've seen worse from men who were supposed to be of the superior race. My skin is not that thin." She said dismissively, immediately grabbing the clipboard from the end of his bed and surveying it. Clicking her tongue, she put it back and put the stethoscope hanging around her neck in her ears.
"Take a deep breath for me, Mr. Finger" She placed the listening device on his chest under his shirt. "Exhale. Again." She moved to his back, listening closely to the slight rattle of his breath. Elke withdrew the device, satisfied.
"Have you worked in a coal mine before, Mr. Finger?"
"Yes, how did you know?" He wasn't sure if he should be more surprised at her guess or politeness.
"I've seen it before. It's progressed but not as bad as the doctors are saying. What did your Eldian physician tell you?"
"Keep a good diet and exercise, mostly. Oh! And peppermint tea."
"I like ginger and nettle tea myself, but that's good advice. You could go home now, although my recommendation is to keep the rescue inhaler in case, and take antihistamines regularly- especially in the spring. Other than that, I think you can go without most of Dr. Mazzini's recommendations."
"Are you sure?" Pieck asked, allowing a bit of hope to bleed into her voice.
"I'm sure it wouldn't be worth the cost." Nurse Elke restated.
Alphones sighed and rested his head in his hands, "How much did this farce cost us anyway?" He asked with a hint of bitterness that made Pieck recoil inside.
"We had to use all our savings…" Pieck started slowly, watching her father's reaction, "But that's it. We don't owe anything else." She couldn't look at Nurse Elke's reaction in case it broke her resolve.
Al gave Pieck a tired smile, making him look far older than he was. Pulling back the sheets, he went to stand "Well, let's not waste anymore money on this place. How about we go home and sleep today off." Pieck returned the smile, just as weary and aged as her father.
As they walked out, Al gently ruffled his daughter's hair. "You really do look more and more like your mother every day. I couldn't be prouder of you."
Pieck had to return to the hospital eventually. Her father was asleep, he seemed to be doing that a lot more recently. She looked passively at her reflection in the digy bathroom mirror, at her long dark hair. She didn't deserve to look like her mother. Her fingers tightened around the pair of rusty old scissors.
Her hair brushed just past her shoulders as she walked back to the dreaded reception desk. She kept the small wad of bills from her last check tightly clutched in her fist, she had only kept enough for her father to survive on. She will be going overseas again soon anyway.
"Ah, it's back already." The receptionist said with a fake smile that was so ingrained she probably forgot she was smiling at all. "How much do you have?"
Pieck handed over the small stack and waited as the woman counted it out. She wouldn't have trusted what Pieck had told her anyway. Of course, like a good Eldian she held her tongue when the receptionist blatantly pulled out a few bills and put them down her shirt. Instead, she turned her attention on the wall in front of her, and noticed a familiar picture.
"Hey, who's that on the wall?"
The woman turned to look, "Oh, that's one of our founders- Martin Tyber. The Tyber's run the military hospital's, the universities, and Eir Inc. Pretty messed up letting one of you devils have that much power."
"Yeah, well…" Pieck muttered staring vacantly at the photo as her mind raced, "Money makes the world go round."
The next day she went to lunch with her friends, happy for any relief from the weight of her lie. It was fun, and she was able to get Reiner to pay for her tab. As he pulled out his wallet, he glanced back at Pieck hesitantly.
"By the way, did you cut your hair? I thought you loved your hair?"
Pieck blinked in surprise, everyone seemed happy to ignore it until now. "Ah, well, I just needed something more practical."
Bertolt couldn't look at the crying woman. He couldn't help but feel like it was some failing on his part that her son was dead. He knew it was silly- but he also knew most things were his fault. If his friends should die like her son, that would probably be his fault too.
Still, he was happy to be home. He was happy to see his mother again, and supposed he should be happy to see his father too.
His parent's shop, "Hoover Hunting", was one of the few places in Liberio that could sell hunting licenses for things like duck and occasionally deer. Bertolt didn't know much about the intricacies of the business, just that their clientele was pretty much exclusively the upper class- doctors, priests, some successful store owners. Most people didn't have the money to spend on something like sport hunting. That was why his dad felt any small change more than most would.
Bertolt slipped through the door of the shop, the small bell alerted his dad hunched over the counter. Jurgern's eyes snapped towards his son, startled and alert, but relaxed when he saw it was just Bertolt.
"Oh, It's just you. I thought for a second we had a customer." Jurgen relaxed back into the stool, and Bertolt was sure the scent of alcohol wafted off on him. He looked tired, with a five o-clock shadow and his hair was greasy and matted.
Bertolt looked behind him to the wall that usually had guns hung on them, and saw it was mostly bear. He doubted it was because of any customers, and remembered Mom talking about selling their stock to the government when times got tough. Jurgen said that was out of the question, but Bertolt suspected he caved in the end.
"F-Father." Bertolt hesitantly greeted. He was hoping he could go upstairs to their apartment before Jurgen noticed him.
"Tomorrow we'll start on your aim, you better not have gotten loose while away."
Bertolt knew it was unlikely to ever actually happen. At first, when he had become a Cadet, Jurgen was sure to keep on top of Bertolt. But when summer continued with hardly any customers and barely enough to get by in fall, Jurgen had fallen into drink. They were only supported by Bertolt's check, but even that was whittled away at the liquor store.
When the silence stretched on for a long time, Bertolt slipped up the staircase and unlocked the apartment door. The apartment was cold, probably because Lucia wanted to save on gas. The walls that used to be covered in decorations were bare, also sold off.
He found his mother standing at the stovetop over a boiling pot of soup. When she heard him, Lucia turned and grinned, "My dear! You're back early, I was just making you're favorite! I'm sorry it's not ready yet." She stooped down to wrap her son in a warm hug. When she pulled back to kiss his forehead, Bertolt noticed she had a deep purple bruise on her eye. He frowned.
"Mom? What happened to your eye?"
Lucia touched it gently, before wincing and pulling away. "It's nothing to worry about dear. Your clumsy mother just ran into the doorframe."
Bertolt believed her because there wasn't much else he could do.
Maybe, if he wasn't such a disappointment to his father things would be different.
Jurgen never came back to the apartment that night and stayed downstairs- he didn't even eat. The next day, Bertolt went downstairs to check on him before the store opened. Jurgen was passed out on the floor, reeking even more of alcohol. His white shirt was stained with whisky and grime, and Bertolt could tell it hung looser than it used to.
Something stopped Bertolt from moving to wake his father up. Father always woke up angry after a night of drinking. He would probably just get yelled at, or worse. Instead, he stood under the threshway standing silent vigil.
He jumped when the sound of knocking filled the small space. He reached for his gun, before realizing it wasn't there and opted for cowering in the shadows of the starway. Three men stood outside the glass door, all wearing fancy suits but that didn't change the eldian armband on all three of them.
Jurgen stirred on the floor and stumbled to his feet, never noticing his son standing in the doorway. He fumbled with the lock until the door finally unlocked, cursing to himself vividly. He stepped aside to let the men in. One of the men had a thick cigar that started to overwhelm the prevailing stench of alcohol and body odor.
"Mr. Hoover. Good afternoon." The nicest dressed man stepped inside the shop, glancing around, "I hope your sales have been better than recently. That will make what comes next-" He cut himself off as he locked eyes with Bertolt crouching on the stairs. Bertolt stared back, unaware that the man had registered his presence as he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. Still, something primal made his hackles raise when he registered another human face.
Bertolt must have been making some sort of face he wasn't aware of because the man was quickly paling. That type of off-put reaction was common for him, along with most of the Cadets. When he realised this he looked away, and the man spoke again.
"Ah, Jurgen. This must be the son we've heard so much about. A Warrior Cadet, huh?"
For some reason, Jurgen's lips curled in distaste when his eyes landed on his son. "Yeah. That's him alright."
The man was silent for a beat, "I'm a man of morals. I wouldn't want to interrupt such a touching family reunion."
"Yeah." Jurgen agreed, still glaring at Bertolt who had long averted his eyes to the floor. "Kids have no place for business."
The men left, leaving only wisps of cigar smoke that hung in the air and crushing silence.
Jurgen moved forward and grabbed Bertolt by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to stand. Bertolt's hands instinctively flew up to protect his neck, but he had to stop himself from doing anything else. Tons of maneuvers flew through his head: attack his face, kick out his knees, dislodge his elbow.
But those were what he did to bad people, and countrymen couldn't be bad. Especially his own father, right?
"Why did you come down here!? Why aren't you practicing your aim!?"
"I'm sorry!" Bertolt gasped out, the slight pressure against his throat made it hard to breathe. "I'm sorry, I was just worried-!" He let out a choked gasp as Jurgen suddenly shook him.
"No! Don't make excuses! Did you think I couldn't handle it myself, huh? That you're better than me? Admit it!?"
"No! Please Dad, I'm sorry! Whatever I did, I'm sorry."
Jurgen stilled and his face went dangerously blank, but he still let go of Bertolt. "Yeah. You're right, you're worthless. Even more worthless than I am." He finished the last part quietly, and Bertolt figured he wasn't supposed to hear that. His father's mind must still be cloudy from drinking.
"Go clean the guns or something." Jurgen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to fight off the hangover. "I'm gonna go lay down, don't break anything." Bertolt just nodded.
It was hard not to think of better times as he started dusting off the guns on the rack. He remembered when he and his dad would go shooting, and after a long hard day they would just sit and talk- mostly about the military though it didn't matter to Bertolt. It was just nice to know his father cared. Then, they would go inside where Mom would have dinner ready and they'd all sit down to have a nice dinner. They would talk about the Cadet program, and how proud they were of him, how surrey, if he had just made cadet, everything would be better.
It never did get better though, it only got worse. They had the extra income and status, but that didn't stop business from drying up. That didn't stop Jurgen from drinking or getting madder.
Because Bertolt still wasn't good enough. If he had come back a war hero instead of in a wheelchair, maybe that would have been enough. Or maybe not, Bertolt knew life was fickle like that. In a moment's notice, he could be dead and that would be that.
They never did get a customer that day. One man came in and looked at the fishing poles before leaving without buying anything. Jurgen never came back either.
Jurgen had ignored Bertolt since that incident, even refusing to meet his son's gaze. It was easy to do, the family never did much together. In some ways that was even worse, whenever Jurgen entered the room he had no idea what the man was going to do.
The week was uneventful and went by quickly. When he met up with his friends he didn't have much to tell them. It seems like his life was always so boring compared to theirs. All Bertolt had was a normal Mom and a normal Dad that didn't really get along but still came together to run a normal shop. He let them do most of the talking.
That night as his mom tucked him into bed, he got up the courage to ask her: "Mom, what does dad hate me?"
"Oh dear." Lucia smoothed out his hair tenderly, "He doesn't hate you, he just has trouble expressing his feelings. It's not your fault."
"Is that why he hits you?" Lucia stilled before continuing the soothing gesture
"I guess so."
"Doesn't he know that it hurts us?" Bertolt's voice cracked painfully and tears sprang into his eyes. His hands unconsciously graced his throat. What does that mean when he keeps getting hurt worse by people who were supposed to protect him?
"...Yes, I think so. He regrets it, I know, but he just has issues stopping himself- especially after drink. And his regret makes him drink more. He takes us for granted at times, so he doesn't think he has to change. I don't want you to be like that, dear. Please never forget how precious your connections are, and sometimes I feel like I'm the only thing keeping that man human. You're such an amazing little boy, I don't want you to lose yourself like your father has." She took in a deep shuddering breath, "Please stay human, and don't forget what's at stake if you don't."
Bertolt's eyes were wide as his mother spoke, absorbing every word she said. He would never forget them, even when losing his humanity was the easier option.
It was time.
Reiner sat around the dinner table with his aunt, uncle and cousin. They had just finished a tense dinner, it was the first time that he had seen his uncle since Papa...disappeared. Gabi sat in Reiner's lap as he tried to get her to eat some of her baby food.
"Yeah, I know it tastes like slop but trust me, it only goes down from here so enjoy it while you can. At least this probably won't kill you." He held up the tin can of baby food and squinted at the ingredients. All it said was "Food mix". "...Probably."
He liked to think his words got through to the toddler, who took the spoon from Reiner's hand and jammed it towards her face. "Yum!" She exclaimed after smacking her lips together a few times, although most of the food was left on her face. Reiner laughed and took the spoon back.
Miriam giggled at the scene, "Thank's Reiner, you're so good with her. All she eats is pumpkin and baby food, even then it's difficult. I swear, her glare would kill a titan!"
Reiner offered a bashful smile in return, "Thanks, I wish I could be here more. It feels like I just got here and I already have to leave…"
Paul smiled, and clapped a hand on his nephew's shoulder, "Don't worry about it, you'll be back before you know it and then you can spend as much time as you want with her. Besides, you're going out and making Marley proud. I couldn't be prouder, Champ."
Reiner hoped so, but he was starting to get a sense that adults don't know much at all. All everyone ever did was lie, or worse, tell a truth so terrible Reiner will gladly call it a lie. He was starting to see that truth was a relative term anyway- at least to the government. "Thanks, Uncle Paul."
"Well, today is your last night here so maybe you would like Gabi to sleep over? It would be nice for me and Paul to have a night off, she always wants to get in our bed- it's getting ridiculous!" Miriam laughed.
Reiner opened his mouth to object, but Karina answered for him quicker, "That would be fine with me, you and Paul need a break with all that's happened. We all need peace and quiet to process everything." The official story was that Avi died peacefully and quickly from a ruptured aorta. They did not get to see the body, and they did not get any of his belongings.
Reiner looked down at Gabi's chubby, beaming face and frowned sadly. He gently reached over and put her back in her high chair, feeling like if he continued to touch her she would break. He didn't want to ruin her with blood stained hands by being around her too much.
Paul and Miriam left soon after, painfully reminding Reiner of how Karina would leave him at the gates of Liberio. Karina waved happily as they left, before turning and getting the kitchen cleaned up.
"You and Gabi should go to your room, it's getting late."
"But-!" Reiner protested, "Can't she sleep with you?"
"No, I have to get up early tomorrow to go to work. Besides, it's good for you two to bond more."
Reiner bit his lip to stop any more protests and glanced back at his cousin, who had started whimpering to be let down. He quickly relented and went to pick her up, "Don't worry Gabi." he whispered so his mom wouldn't hear, "I still love you, no matter what you do." He somehow said the last part even quieter, "Even if you don't become a Warrior." For some reason, his eyes started to burn and his throat constricted painfully. He shoved it down quickly.
He set Gabi down in his room and closed the door behind him. He then grabbed his desk chair and firmly wedged it underneath the doorknob, checking it a few times to make sure it was sturdy. He grabbed a small jingle bell he had stolen from old church New Year's decorations and hung it on a small thumb tack he had pressed into the cheap wooden door.
Gabi watched her cousin in fascination as he moved onto the windows above his desk and took a length of string to tie them together. Standing on shaky legs, she reached for a piece of string that had fallen and started to clumsily wrap the string around the desk handles like she saw Reiner do.
Sensing someone next to him, he glanced down at Gabi's concentrated expression. He laughed and knelt down to her level. She looked at him incredulously with her lower lip jutted out, it did little to stop Reiner and just made him laugh more. "Good job, Gabi! You're so smart!" He exclaimed before sweeping her up again, making adorable squeals of delight.
He set her down on the bed, letting her drop and bounce a little to Gabi's amusement. "Umm, let's see here. I guess little kids should have a bedtime story..." Reiner turned to the meager, sparsely populated bookshelf across his bed, "My mom always read to me Eldia's Bloody History before bed, but...I don't think you need that. Let's see if I have anything fun."
Reiner glanced back to Gabi to double check she was okay. She was holding the absurdly large hunting knife he kept hidden under his pillow. Reiner jolted and ran over to her, yanking the blade out of her chubby, luckily undamaged hands. Gabi started to wail loudly in protest, reaching for her precious knife.
Distantly, Reiner hoped this wasn't a sign of things to come.
"Ok, ok, one sec!" Reiner put the knife away and went back to the bookshelf. None of it was particularly good for a toddler: Military code of conduct, Marley's Imperial History- Reiner shuddered when he glanced at it- Ah! Military Gun Assembly 22ed addition! At least it had pictures.
Reiner crawled in bed and sat with his back against the headboard, pulling Gabi into his lap as she sniffed pathetically. Reiner opened the book across his lap, "Ok, chapter 1: Cleaning and Assembling a Standard Field Rifle. Before going forward, familiarize yourself with the following diagram for reference in the coming lesson." He pointed to the lined image of the rifle, "1) The Barrel of a standard issue field rifle is 49 cm in length and rests in the Stock. When fired, the bullet will travel from the Chamber, through the Barrel, and out the Muzzle. When working properly, only the bullet will fire and the shell will stay in the firing chamber and must be ejected by manually pulling the Bolt back. In some newer versions, this process is done automatically."
Gabi watched the page carefully and followed Reiner's fingers with her hands. When she wasn't doing that she was tracing the lines with her fingers in awe. Reiner laughed and ruffled her dark hair, "You really like this stuff, huh?"
Gabi pouted, but continued to listen to Reiner talk for a few more pages. Eventually, her hands stopped moving and her eyelids drooped as she got sleepier. When her eyes were finally completely closed, Reiner softly shut the book and set in on the ground next to them. He blew turned down the kerosene lamp on his bedside table before settling in himself, careful to protect Gabi.
The next morning he had to leave again, and his mind was haunted at the thought it may be the last time he came back. He was used to these kinds of thoughts, but it was different now. Now, he didn't know if the enemy was going to kill him, or the people he dedicated his life to serving.