Chapter 14: And Pick Up the Pieces

Ok, so I admit I've been neglecting the fic here but in my defense...I high key hate the interface. With Chapter 14 we're currently caught up with the Ao3 version. On Ao3 I post exactly on the 20th of every month, and while I do want to post the story here I just keep forgetting about it. So, if you want more frequent updates here don't forget to fav/follow/comment because otherwise I will forget this site even exists. (for some reason whenever I save the name of this site get's deleted, so another reason I don't like the interface)

The Cadet's were back to Tarraco a few days later, it wasn't as if they could stay in the destroyed base at Cabrai while they waited for their next assignment. Zeke didn't have an issue with that though. Tarraco was nice and sunny, and their stale coffee was just a bit less terrible than most places. The newspaper came on time as well, and Zeke enjoyed the constant reaffirmation that humanity was screwed without delay.

He laid down in his tent, enjoying himself while Reiner and Bertolt were away. Those two were being so depressing lately, after what happened in Cambrai- one would think they were the ones that almost died.

Perhaps despite himself, he was still confident in those two. Zeke never had particularly high hopes for any of the most recent graduating class, but he figured that after all the shit they've seen so far they've at least earned his respect.

Sometimes to come through the other side, you have to break. And then pick up the pieces. Zeke did, and he would fancy himself a fairly well adjusted individual. The others will fall apart soon too and then they may or may not come through it. It was the natural order of things here.

He sipped on his stale coffee as he read:

"WE WILL MAKE THEM SCREAM" WARCHIEF WERNER DECLARES PLAN TO MARCH TO VALENCE IN A FINAL PUSH

Zeke frowned, it would have been nice if someone had told him about this "final push".

Then, he smiled, "What is the world coming to?"

Zeke didn't bother to tell any of the Cadets about the news, even when Magath told them they were being transferred to Acqui on the border along with almost the entire camp.

When they got off the train the station was crawling with Malreyan and Eldian soldiers alike as they all congregated to the tent camp that was set up outside to accommodate the men. The Cadets were quickly rushed to the main base, where they were given proper accommodations for their rank: a slightly bigger tent, and access to a slightly less disgusting toilet.

Over the next few days more trains came, carrying men and supplies that were all quickly loaded onto horse drawn carts. It was old fashioned but a smart move for a long march, gasoline would be impossible to find and horses could be eaten by Marleyans in a pinch.

"What's going on? " Reiner was nervous, like some wild animal before a storm.

"Isn't it obvious?" Zeke answered, and since it clearly wasn't obvious to Reiner he shied away and sat with the others in their tent. Zeke sighed.

Eventually the time came and everyone gathered together, crowding the narrow walkways in the primary base. Warchief Werener stood high on his throne made of plywood and two-by-fours, shouting plaintively into his megaphone in an attempt to unite them.

Zeke was mildly disgusted that it worked.

"We shall cut a swath through the Val Camonican forces, through the Native Bushwaskers, straight to the heart! Straight to Valence! Let us hope God has mercy for their souls, for we will not!" Cheers erupted through the space, but Zeke was proud to see his wards were too busy staring in fear and shock at the announcement. Zeke prodded Porco and he started to scream and cheer and the others joined him with similar fervor. Zeke himself gave a more reserved display.

After the rally, the Cadets followed Magath to the front where the Warriors were getting ready to set off. Reiner nervously wrung his gloved hands together, focusing on the feel of the stiff leather more than the situation. He didn't know how far away Valence was, but he knew it was on the peninsula the contenant tapered off to. So what did that mean? A month of constant fighting? Two?

The thought terrified him.

The Warriors talked some, Reiner didn't care much. He was much more concerned with his own mortality at the moment.

"Cadet Braun." He snapped at attention when Warchief Werner said his name. "You're the typist right?"

Reiner nodded, wondering if that really was his only defining trait to them. Werner nodded and made a motion towards one of the guards. Reiner was handed- more like thrusted- a leather suitcase.

He buckled under the weight, "What is this?"

"Your typewriter. You are hereby tasked to keep records of the campaign, keep it maintained. It's worth more than your life." Reiner nodded again. He didn't know anything about typewriters.

Reiner heaved a sigh of relief when Werner turned away. He retrieved a long hatpin with an ornate pearl head from behind his ear, allowing his long hair to fall forward and shield his face from view. Once he was a distance away, he gingerly pricked his finger.

Reiner jumped and dove for cover with the other Cadets, save for Zeke, when a loud boom shook the ground. A bright light like a flash grenade nearly blinded him. They stayed trembling on the ground until Reiner felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Annabelle smiling down at him and that all his friends had already recovered. He flushed.

"It takes a bit to get used to." Her voice was low and horse compared to what he remembered, but still soothing. Reiner looked back to where the explosion was, and immediately slapped a hand over his mouth.

He was all the more embarrassed to be scared of it when he saw what the Cart Titan looked like. It seemed unfair that his first impression of the Titan Shifters were the awesome Jaws and Armored. Maybe it was his fault for assuming all titans would be…cool.

The Cart Titan had a face that looked like it had been hit with a frying pan too many times and now resembled a raw, doughy pancake. All that was save for the gargantuan, hooked nose that started squarely between his two, overly large baby blues that seemed to blankly stare in different directions, all the way down to his severely cleft lip. A puffball of blond hair sat on top of a long, shiny forehead. It made a loud sucking sound as it beathed.

The Cart Titan could sense his and the other's silent ridicule, and Reiner was even more surprised when it spoke in a deep nasally voice, "Hurry up and get my mask on, you said you were ready."

"Yes sir!" The men chorused, rushing to strap on a metal face mask that hid his more undesirable features. They mounted a turret on his back, currently unmanned but could be ready in a moment's notice.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Ms. Fae leaning over to her brother and make a comment that made him look at her disapprovingly.

Reiner inspected the typewriter and found there were leather straps across it to use like a backpack. He put it on with his rifle hung next to it over one shoulder. Their bags were already with a cart, so at least he didn't have to worry about carrying his supplies as well.

Gideon's titan appeared in the front of the caravan now that it was sufficiently outfitted.

"Now!" The beast shouted, "Let us march to victory!"

The Cart titan personally leading them actually turned out to be both a good decision for morale and also tactically. Having the rough terrain in front of them smoothed down for their carts helped to speed up their progress tremendously, never having to stop to remove shrubs and stumps in their way. Reiner made sure to say so in his report that first night.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say- or type- in an official report that would probably be published in a history book or newspaper. He didn't even know why he was chosen for this, it didn't matter how fast he typed if he had nothing to say!

Reiner groaned and buried his face in his hands.

His ears perked up a bit when he heard the distinctive limp magnified by the dry foliage littering the ground. He peeked up through his fingers to look up at Pieck.

"Are you done?" She asked gently.

"Yeah." Reiner shut the case and set it aside, "May as well be."

"Do you want to help me gather firewood then? You look like you could use something to do." Reiner just nodded, standing to follow her and quickly slipping his gloves back on.

They didn't speak as they collected wood in the dying light. Reiner was perfectly content with that, considering he had nothing he wanted to say.

That made it all the more annoying when Pieck broke the silence, "It doesn't matter how long your reports are, as long as they're honest. I don't think Warchief Werner cares about every little detail."

"Yeah." Reiner shrugged as they approached their group.

The caravan, consisting of thousands of men, had two distinct parts. At its core, there were the carts carrying supplies, medical equipment and the such, protected by men armed with the standard malay weapons and rifle. Some of the carts were designated specifically for carrying a machine gun that some men had specific directions to fall back to in the event of an emergency. Heading its core was, of course, the titan Warchief Werner and the other Warriors.

The second part were the scouts that fanned into the surrounding forests to attempt to root out the enemy. They were armed with grenades, smoke bombs and morters in addition to the standard gear to destory enemy fox holes. This was the Cadet's job, along with other squads of specialized soldiers. Warchief Werener had stressed the importance of this job: important enough that Zeke got to stay behind and have stale coffee with command.

Marcel sighed and set his gun against a nearby tree and stretched, "Hey guys, I need to step out for a second and go to the bathroom. Is that alright?" He directed his question to Porco, who's face scrunched up in disgust.

"You don't need my permission to piss!" He yelled back, but Marcel only smiled and waved him off.

"You're not gonna leave your gun, are you?" Reiner asked. He was jittery, and that made Marcel jittery.

Marcel stole a glance at his gun, but put the thought out of his mind, "I'll be fine." He assured, "We're surrounded by allies, it's completely safe."

Marcel was always the reasonable one, he didn't let his anxieties rule him. True, at times that made him ignorant and susceptible, but he would rather be that than…whatever Reiner was. Unstable, maybe.

Just as he finished he heard something rustling in the bushes. He froze when he heard the familiar, unintelligible babble of the enemy. It sounded less like the smooth syllables of Camonican and closer to the clipped tones of Mantegan Natives. He knelt down, picked up an appropriate sized stick and crept forward in the underbrush. He narrowed his eyes at the dark skinned young man in a patchwork of civilian and Camuni military gear, a member of the Native Resistance Force. They were taught that they weren't really a threat outside of their expert traps, more of underfunded cannon fodder meant to muddy the Marleyan war machine.

Really, they were more pitiful to Marcel than anything. Unfortunately, there's no place for mercy in war. Not when he had so much to gain and just as much to lose.

He focused on the four stars clustered together on his shoulder pads: how Moonies marked their sergeants.

Marcel had no idea why the man was alone, but it didn't really matter to him at that moment. When the man looked like he was about to reach for his side radio, Marcel moved quickly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Marcel pressed the stick into the man's back, like the barrel of a gun.

The man moved to look behind him as much as he could without moving, Marcel jabbed him again. "Stay still, unless you want to get shot." Marcel had no idea if this man even knew Eldian, and in hindsight it was actually very unlikely, but he was sure his tone of voice carried. The man quickly looked away.

"You are child…" The man said slowly with a thick accent.

Marcel's eyes widened slightly, "You people should know that there's no such thing in war." His other hand reached for his own hand held radio and he pressed the communication button down, "Annie, I need backup. Bring the others. Over"

"Wilco. Over"

Marcel sighed and turned his attention back to the issue at hand. "So you're a sergeant, are your men nearby?"

Reiner's mouth felt like it was full of cotton as he and the others followed Marcel's trail through the forest. His stomach knotted at the thought of getting there and finding Marcel dead, and deaded finding him not dead and needing to back him up in a fight even more.

They came to a small clearing in the woods, with Marcel and a Native man with his hands up in surrender. They immediately fanned out and pointed their guns at them. Marcel stepped away, not before grabbing the radio off the man's belt.

"Here's how this will work." Marcel said evenly, keeping his calm even when the man whirled around to look at him with obvious betrayal and growing unease, "You'll use this to call your men here. We'll set a trap for them, and you will live. If you don't, we will kill you and your men when they come looking for you. Deal?"

"No," The man shook his head, his eyes wide and wild, "No, I will not! I will not kill my family!"

"Then you'll die, and so will they." Marcel bluffed. If this didn't work, he had no intention of waiting for them. He would much rather incapacitate the man and take him to his superiors to prove his worth.

His voice quivered with panic when the man opened his mouth again, "No! Please!" His knees seemed to give out in front of Marcel, his head bowed, "Take my life! Do not take my family!"

"Hey, Marcel…" Reiner's voice was weak and easily drowned out by the man's yelling.

"I am Cozcatl, take my life! Please!"

"Are we really…?" Reiner tried again, but now Marcel was yelling.

"I will kill you! I'll kill you and your men if you don't cooperate!"

"Kill me! Take me! Anything! Do not kill my family! Please!" The man's frantic Eldian became more fragmented as he spoke, sounding more and more like nothing more than noise to Reiner.

Annie stepped forward and bashed the butt of her rifle in the back of his head. "Do as you're told!" She shouted.

Porco kicked at him, "Shut up!"

"Please!" He continued, "Kill me! Kill me!"

Reiner's grip on his gun shook, "Let's just be quiet." He couldn't think, everything was too loud, his mind too jumbled. Suddenly it felt like he wasn't there at all. It was like he was outside his body, looking at the scene with detachment.

"Kill me!"

Reiner did nothing as he watched himself raise his gun and shoot the man through the head. For once, his mind was devoid of thoughts. No anxieties, fears, doubts. It was nice.

Until it all came flooding back. Porco was yelling at him. So was Annie. Bertolt was crying. So was Pieck. Marcel held his gun now and was looking at him in horror, blood and brains sprayed on his face.

And Reiner did… nothing.

It would be dark in an hour or so and the convoy had stopped to make camp, everyone returned to their positions to set up their tents. Jamie stood and stretched after getting her and Annabelle's tent set up.

"Sorry you had to do most of the heavy lifting." Annabelle smiled apologetically as she moved their bedrolls from the cart.

"It's nothing." Jamie quickly dismissed, causing Annabelle to laugh.

"I know, but still. I don't want you to think I don't appreciate it." She leaned into Jamie's side, trying to give some semblance of a hug with her arms full. It was the effort that counted.

Jamie exhaled a small laugh, moving to cup Annabelle's cheek with her hand. She leaned down for a soft kiss.

"Oh yeah!" Fae's obnoxious voice cut in, "Jamie and Annabelle, totally just good friends. Like sisters! Nothing to see here!"

Jamie glared at her, but that just seemed to make her smile more. "Sorry, I had to" Fae said in a tone that made it clear she was not sorry.

Annabelle just shrugged it off, "We should be getting back to getting camp ready." She winked at Jamie and finished quietly, "Faster we get camp set up, faster we can get to bed."

Jamie didn't blush. Maybe a little, but only a little, "Are the Cadet's back yet?"

Fae shrugged, "I think so, though I heard they ran into some type of trouble. Yeager and Tom handled the report, so I can't say what."

"Where are they?"

Fae was quiet for a moment before shrugging again. Jamie almost growled.

"Seriously?" Jamie was already storming past her before her mouth opened to make some excuse for herself. Sometimes it felt like Jamie was the only one acutely aware of just how easily Cadets die, how anyone dies.

"That's Mama Bear for you." She heard Fae laugh behind her.

Jamie found the Cadets unloading their own cart and they quickly stopped what they were doing to look at her. She quickly did a head count, "There were 7 of you." She said simply.

Galliard shrank back, "Reiner is, um, resting."

"Where?" Jamie must have said it more forcefully than she needed because the little boy flinched. She ignored the small stab of guilt in favor of answers.

"Um…"

"Don't worry, Mrs. Jamie." Yeager crawled out of his tent, "He had a bit of an episode, but Mr. Ksaver is handling it with Warchief Werner."

"That wasn't what I asked and you know it."

"He went for a walk over that hill over there."

"He went alone?" Jamie asked incredulously. Yeager only nodded blissfully, completely unaffected by the threat in her tone. She truly was surrounded by idiots.

Reiner's ears perked up when he heard someone coming, keeping his outward reaction as still as possible. Heavy footsteps that made no effort conceal themselves, meaning it was unlikely to be an enemy. No immediate alarm bells went off, so he didn't do anything.

Neither did whoever was there, but as the seconds ticked by he could feel the gaze on the back of his neck. Reiner was in no hurry to acknowledge them and face reality again. He didn't even understand what had just happened, and that scared him. Even if Zeke and Mr. Ksaver assured him nothing bad would happen, he didn't trust them. All adults do is lie.

Eventually Reiner couldn't stand it and turned to see who was there. He was shocked to see the Armored Titan standing there, and equally ashamed.

"Hi, Mrs…um…" He awkwardly trailed off, suddenly unable to remember her last name.

She nodded once she was acknowledged, and took it as an invitation to approach him and sit next to him, "Just Mrs. Jamie is fine."

"Right." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "Do you need something?"

"No."

"Okay."

"I would like to ask you something, though."

Reiner winced, "Okay," he said a bit slower.

"How are you?"

Reiner had to blink in confusion and take a moment to process the question. How was he? He asked himself, he honestly didn't know: "Confused."

"About what?"

"Everything." He answered immediately. Jamie nodded and they lapsed in a short silence.

"I heard something happened while the Cadet's were on patrol today."

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I."

"Nothing?"

"I shot someone. I didn't mean to, but at the same time I did." Jamie nodded as if that made perfect sense to her. She looked at him like she expected him to elaborate, so he did. Speaking frantically he continued: "Everyone was yelling and I just froze. I just wanted everything to stop. It was like I was looking at myself shooting him instead of doing it myself. I don't understand it…" Reiner finished, shaking his head in dismay.

There was another long moment of unreadable silence, not at all helping Reiner's anxiety at the situation. He was immediately consumed with regret and sinking fear of admitting that out loud. Was this enough to get disappeared? He didn't know anymore.

"I think…" Jamie suddenly spoke again, slowly as if considering each word with grave importance, "No one has really had the decency to be frank with you."

"Zeke said it goes away eventually."

"He's wrong." She said simply, "It will just get bad enough you stop realizing when it happens. That's much worse."

"I don't want that to happen. It scared me."

"You should be. In the heat of battle you must be completely aware of your surroundings or risk harming your comrades- either by dragging them down or by your own hand. Even more so if you inherit a titan. If you don't have a strong will, the power of the titans will consume you completely."

Reiner pulled his knees to his chest and squeezed, trying in vain to comfort himself, "Then what can I do? Is it hopeless?"

"No, you're in control of your own fate. It's your responsibility to stop yourself."

"How?"

"What did you feel when you shot that man? I don't mean emotions, I mean the feel of the recoil, the scent in the air, the voices of your comrades, the sights around you. What do you remember?"

"I told you: nothing," Reiner said with a hint of annoyance, "Well, I remember he had a mustard stain on his lapel." He glanced at Jamie and flushed at the soft smile on her face, "S-sorry. I always notice stupid stuff."

She just shook her head and turned her attention back in front of them, "Then you have to ground yourself. When you realize you're slipping away, focus your senses. What you feel, see, smell, taste, and hear. All of that. I liked counting shots."

"Counting shots?"

"In a fire fight, every gun has a shot limit. You probably memorized most of the standard issue ones. Counting them tells you when they have to stop and reload. Multiply that by how many enemies and it's a good way to stay focused. It can be anything though."

Reiner hummed and smiled, already feeling better about what had happened, "Mrs. Jamie?" He asked quietly, she looked back at him and waited for his answer, "Do you think I have a chance at getting the Armored Titan?"

Reiner's eyes stayed glued to his feet, not wanting to see her expression. Jamie was thankful for that, because she was fairly certain her mask had slipped for a second, exposing her deep regret to the world. She looked away, careful to keep any emotion from seeping into her tone when she answered, "I do."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him blush and quickly stand up, "Thank you…" He muttered before running back to camp.

She watched his retreating back, "What a strange child," she thought out loud. In a way, it reminded her of herself.

The thought made her want to die inside.

By the time it was noon the sun had been blotted out with smoke. Porco was doubled over coughing and gagging, fighting to stay standing by supporting himself on the carriage. Marcel was the only one fussing over him though because the other Cadet's were preoccupied with something much more important:

Flamethrowers.

It was a concept Reiner hadn't really thought about before, but was instantly captivated by. And they got to use them, even if there was something inherently suspicious about command giving Eldians a bunch of deadly weapons to burn down a forest.

Reiner looked hesitantly at the gas mask they gave him, an odd feeling bubbled in his stomach. He glanced at the others, silently getting suited up for the mission: FR uniforms, that Reiner eventually gathered to mean 'Fire Retardant' to go with the gas masks. A board looking Marleyan officer instructed them on how to use the flamethrower and how to put their fuel pack on.

"Um, guys…?" Reiner started nervously, "I have a weird feeling about this…"

Annie immediately dropped the metal canister of propane she was holding like it had burned her. Porco groaned, Bertolt's brow already had a nervous sheen, Pieck sighed, and Marcel hid his face in his hands. Zeke, to his credit, remained unaffected.

"That's it." Annie backed away from the canister with her hands up, "We can't do this."

"What?" Reiner asked, looking between them, "What's wrong?"

Annie ignored him, "I don't care what they do, they can't force us."

Zeke chuckled, "It's just that every time you get a "weird feeling" someone almost dies. You have a truly uncanny danger sense. Must be because you're so cowardly. "

Reiner wilted, "Oh."

"You're backing out of the mission?" The officer asked

Zeke smiled and waved the man away, "We better, Mr. Ksaver told me to look out for the cadet's safety so don't worry about it."

The officer shrugged, "Fine by me. I'll just get those southerners to do it." He collected his gear and left without much fuss. Reiner frowned as he thought over his words, 'southerners'?

"Hey! Wise Guy!" Oh no. Reiner's gaze snapped to the two waving Marleyan young men in a group of ten or so. They must be here to make good on their threat to "watch out for him." He shuddered.

"Hm?" Zeke's lazy gaze swang between the still frantically waving teenagers and Reiner, "Are they your friends? It's not nice to ignore them."

The officer barked at them and they stopped to pay attention to him. Reiner relaxed a bit, "No, I don't like them." he answered simply.

"Why not?"

Why? Reiner reflected on their interactions, they had been nothing but outwardly friendly towards him. Not that that meant much, "because they're Marleyans," he murmured.

Zeke tilted his head back and barked a few of his judgemental cackles that made Reiner squirm in his seat, "oh boy," he laughed and shook his head, "You are a wise guy." That didn't make Reiner feel any better.

Weeks of tedium and jungle ticked by slowly without a town in sight. Reiner heard projections that at their current pace they should reach the southernmost Camunni metropolitan area in another week.

Reiner realized they wouldn't last that long. Food supplies were running low and any village they had come across had been burned down. The crops had been completely harvested, livestock killed and rotting, and their wells poisoned. The people had presumably retreated northward for protection.

They were in another one of those towns now as the Flamethrower corps burned down the surrounding forests. It stopped being a matter of strategy awhile ago, now with every empty town it became about spite. If the natives were going to turn their own strategy against them, fine. They would never be able to return home then.

It was a hopeful sight when they came across the still standing houses in the town they were in now. Reiner got a bad feeling from the town, and when he raised this with Magath he got a look. He didn't complain anymore when they were made to search the houses.

Marcel pushed open the door to the house they were assigned to slowly, the other's readying their guns in case of an attack. The door opened to a cold and empty house that felt haunted. When Marcel stepped on the first board it seemed to make a low moaning loud enough to wake the dead.

"Scared?" Porco taunted when Reiner was the last to enter.

Reiner quickly took stock of his feelings and surroundings, "Yes. Very."

Porco paused, "Well, um, don't be then."

Reiner huffed a dark laugh, "Good idea."

The house was small and wouldn't take them long, maybe the same size as Pieck's small apartment on the south side. It was in complete disarray, and when Reiner inspected the door frame there was obvious evidence it had been kicked in. Around the same time he noticed this he heard Zeke curse.

"Oh, Fuck." He said with a clear grimace. Reiner ran to him, finding him in the bedroom and crowding in with the others.

A mother, a father, and two young daughters. Zeke had already covered the girls with a bedsheet before Reiner had come. He didn't want to think about what would make Zeke of all people disgusted enough to hide it.

Zeke did not have the same respect for the parents, and carelessly toed them on their back to look at them, "Shot between the eyes, execution style." He knelt and closed their eyes, "Looks like they didn't want to go. I can respect that." He nodded to himself in approval before standing and leaving, "Come on, they might have a root cellar or something the Moonies didn't get to."

Reiner was the last to file out, like usual, and he was careful to close the door quietly. Bertolt and Pieck had stopped to watch him, and he took some comfort that if he didn't do it they would have.

They managed to scrape together a little bit of food from the town, some hidden food stores and preserved foods. It was the same as the others in a lot of ways though: executed livestock, burned crops, poisoned wells. Like the others, the Cadets helped to salt the earth. It seemed pointless considering there was no one to come back to the land.

With the other towns Reiner always took some joy in salting the earth, since he didn't get the fun of poisoning the wells or burning the homes. He hoped that the people that left would come back and realize they had nothing. They thought they had outsmarted the Marleyans, but they hadn't. Reiner didn't have the same joy now, and found himself counting the grains of rock salt or the feeling of rubbing them between his fingers to stay sane.

The food was distributed among the Marleyan command and the Cadets hardly got any. They were not supposed to get any, but before they were about to go to bed the Warriors had come to give them their share. All except for Gideon.

"One of the perks of being a shifter is that you don't need to eat to get this tall!" Fynn had laughed when a bashful Bertolt had refused.

They decided to spend another day there while they took time to burn the surrounding forests. As the campaign went on it seemed the scorched earth policy was increasingly fueled by spite than any actual tactical merit. Reiner was just happy they didn't have to burn the forests.

He picked a beetle off the rotted log he rested his back against. He gave it an assessing look.

"You can't be serious." Porco groaned, before another round of coughing took him. It got worse as the smoke continued to thicken in the air.

"Mr. Ksaver said bugs are actually very nutritious, and he wears glasses." Reiner reasoned to him.

"I don't care. I'm not gonna eat bugs."

Reiner's immediate instinct to contradict Porco made him toss it in his mouth. He repressed a shudder when he bit down, "It's not so bad." he grimaced, "It kinda tastes like chewing on a shrimp tail." It was even salty, because of all the salt they put on the ground.

Porco sneered and looked away, turning a slight shade of green. Reiner picked up another beetle and waved it in front of Bertolt, "Ok, now you try."

Bertolt didn't complain, already resigned to his fate as soon as he saw Reiner bite down. His eyebrows shot up as he chewed, "This would actually taste pretty good sauteed with some butter and onions. It's kinda nutty."

Reiner held some out to the girls, and found that Annie was already gone. Pieck accepted one of them, but only stared at the squirming insect. She looked sick, but Reiner didn't know if it was from hunger or the idea of eating a bug.

Reiner leaned over and loudly whispered to Bertolt, "I'll bet you 10 cents she doesn't do it."

Her fingers twitched.

Bertolt snickered, "I'll raise you a dollar she will."

She swallowed thickly.

Reiner grinned, "How about a cool 10 dollars!"

Before she could think better of it, she forced the thing down her throat without chewing. She gasped, "Fine, now give me half for helping you, Bert!" Reiner laughed and gave each of them five dollars. Pieck clutched it greedly to her chest, looking green, "I'm regretting not chewing now…"

The treeline next to them rustled, and four enlisted men emerged from the forest. Each pair carried the charred remains of someone on a gurney. Looks like Reiner was right not to want to play with flamethrowers.

When they walked by the scent of charred meat wafted towards them. Reiner sighed wistfully, "Anyone else really want fried chicken now?"

Pieck stood suddenly and ran to vomit in the bushes, "I guess not." Bertolt chuckled, despite not finding it funny in the slightest, awkwardly scratching his cheek.

Reiner just hummed and stood, "Come on. If they were Eldian they'll want us to help bury them. You coming, Pieck?"

"I'm good." she called from behind the bushes.

He shrugged, "Suit yourself. Bert."

Bertolt followed him into camp to the temporary hospital set up in one of the houses. Some starving men, Marleyan and Eldian alike, crowded around the outside uselessly. There used to be emergency rations for them to give out, but those were all gone now. Reiner had overheard Warcheif Werner yelling about it, but they didn't need that insight to know they were running out of food. If this kept up, they would all die.

The door had been busted off its hinges so they walked in without a barrier. They walked to the head nurse, who was typically in charge of handling the bodies.

"Ma'am." Reiner greated, "Do you need us to dig a grave?"

"For those burned up men? No. They were Marleyan so we'll finish the job and send the ashes back home. You can take their files to the information desk, I just got it filled out." Reiner took the two manilla folders, marked in the corner with the red "deceased" stamp, and left.

Reiner read the names on the folder, "John Sutherland and Richard Johnson, I wonder if I know them."

"You shouldn't snoop in other people's folders." Bertolt glanced worriedly at the folders, "Especially dead people."

"That's all the more reason to look, so we'll remember them. Otherwise…" Reiner trailed off, "It was like they were never alive in the first place." As soon as he opened first folder, John, he recognized him immediately. Despite himself, his throat clenched.

Bertolt stopped seeing his friend's reaction and put a hand on his shoulder, "Is it someone you know?"

Reiner swallowed thickly, "Yeah, the southerners." He glanced at the other folder, and saw the friend he was with before, "They were friends, at least I think. I guess it's good that neither died alone."

Bertolt smiled and they started again, "Yeah, that isn't so bad." He could see himself facing death, if it was for a friend, "What were they like?"

Reiner closed the folders and kicked a rock along, "I don't know. They were Marleyan, and kinda annoying. But…they were nice. I wish I talked to them more."

"I wish I could have met them." Bertolt said sympathetically.

Reiner laughed, "Trust me, you don't."

That night Reiner once again sat at his typewriter with nothing to say. They were silent as they sat around the campfire, hunger had killed any conversation. He was about to give up when someone approached him.

"Um, excuse me?" A thin enlisted man, no older than 17, stood awkwardly at the edge of their camp. He worked his cap in his hands and wouldn't look at them, "I know this is a strange request, but I saw you have a typewriter. Could you…write a letter for me?"

"Uh, sure." Reiner shifted slightly, his eyes trailed down the man's arm and realized he had no armband, "Sit with us," He forced himself to say. The others shuffled around to give the man, the teenager, a wide berth.

"I just want to write to my ma that I love her. I…I don't write so good. That's how I ended up here. In the military, not, here, here. I'm Keith, by the way. Smith." By his accent and name Reiner could guess he was also from the south.

"Ok, so you want to write to your mom?" Reiner asked, already writing the address line.

"Yeah. I just want to tell her that I love her. And that I miss her and my sisters and I hope that Pa is having a better go at it at work, and that I love him too-" Reiner typed as fast as the man rambled out his words, only changing enough to sound like he was writing it himself. Eventually the man stopped, "Wait, have you been typing this whole time?"

"Yeah." Reiner answered, "What was I supposed to do?"

Keith laughed and scratched at his neck, "Nah, this is good. More authentic, ya know? That's probably enough-oh! Tell Maria to eat lots of rosebud jam for me. That's all, I swear."

Reiner ripped the page off and handed it to him, "There you go."

Keith's eyes welled with tears as he read back his own words, "Do you think that's good enough. As a last will?"

"Some people add what they want done with their valuables," Reiner pointed out, and Keith laughed again.

"I don't got any of those. This is good though, thank you. Would you be willing to do more of these, for my friends?"

Reiner paused and thought it over. He glanced at Zeke furiously shaking his head behind him, and then at Pieck smiling and giving a thumbs up, "I wouldn't mind." He smiled, "This was kinda fun."

"Yeah." Keith returned the smile, "Thank you. So much."

For the first time Reiner had something to type until last call, and the nights after that as well.

"You're a lot better at writing letters for other people." Zeke chuckled the second night with just a bit of annoyance.

"You want me to write one for you?"

Zeke scoffed and turned over in his cot, "Who would I write to? Everyone that matters to me is right here."

"Aww" Bertolt held a hand to his heart, "I like you too, Zeke."

"Even if you can be annoying sometimes." Reiner smiled.

"I ment Mr. Ksaver." Zeke bit back with an embarrassed flush. The two deflated, Zeke sighed and laid back in his bed, "...I like you too."

With his back turned, Reiner and Bertolt made an air high-five. Zeke rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling anyway. What was the world coming to, that little kids could still smile after everything. Like it all was normal.