844

The entire squad's attention was directed towards the smoke of the red flare gun that had appeared a short distance ahead.

"Continue ahead and remain vigilant, we may be approaching an abnormal and cannot risk loss of life in this squad!" Dieter Ness yelled to the rest of his squad, as everyone charged ahead in formation.

Marisol kicked her boot against her horse, urging it to pick up pace in order to ride side by side with Ness.

"Captain Ness, please may I please ride ahead, I believe I may be of assistance in taking down this titan." Marisol found it challenging to remain professional in addressing her superior while riding at break-neck speeds.

If it were any other scout, Ness would not have even begun to entertain the idea, however, Marisol Managold had used her two years in the Survey Corps to prove her tactical value and quick wit in immobilising titans. If there was ever moment where Ness's gut instinct overtook rules and regulations, that moment was now.

"Do what you can to not die, do not overstep the boundaries of what other squads are doing to deal with the titan and make sure you return back to formation immediately once the titan is down." Marisol nodded in understanding, shouting out a quick affirmative before pulling her horse away from the squad and riding towards the remnants of red smoke.

As the titan came into Marisol's vision, she realised she was not dealing with an ordinary five-metre but instead faced an abnormal with arms that doubled the length of its body and dragged on the ground as it ran forward. Approaching the titan from behind, Marisol decided to take initiative and switch to her ODM gear.

Everyone around her had been struck with uncertainty and fear over how to attack the titan as its long arms could come swinging in any direction and easily dismount anyone nearby. Marisol waited for her moment to strike and had been gifted an opportunity as the titan leaned forward and used both hands to pick up a scout a good 8 metres ahead.

Marisol had felt a pang of sympathy for the unknown scout who would likely lose their life in the process of killing this titan, but it was for the greater good (and would leave an impressive result on her profile as a scout for being able to kill this behemoth).

Marisol attached her grappling hook to a nearby tree in an effort to propel herself towards the titan's back. Disregarding the yells against her actions from other squads and superiors, Marisol had landed and drew her blades instantly, yet hesitated when she heard a scout's screams of terror within the titan's mouth.

Marisol contemplated whether she should jump from the titan's back to face it head on and rescue the distressed soldier. However, the illusion of choice was just as quickly eliminated as the titan raised a hand over its head as if to swat away a fly that had landed on its shoulder. Marisol acted with immediacy to save herself from imminent destruction by leaping in the air and slicing off the hand heading towards her. Without wasting another second, she had repositioned herself in the air to be in line with the titan's nape as she dived down and sliced the area out.

There had been a flurry of steam, screams and grunts as the titan and the man within the titan's mouth made their way towards the ground. The nearby squads continued their march forward without as much as a look as to who had taken on this monstrosity of a titan nor to see who the victim was.

As Marisol dismounted the titan, she rushed towards the body in hopes of finding the man alive in an attempt to recover his identity and hopefully carry him to safety. However, Marisol found herself grounded as she approached the body that lay in two halves next to the butchered titan; pangs of nausea overtook Marisol at the sight before her. As if this was not torture enough, the top half of the deceased was lying face down on the grass, yet Marisol could recognize that unruly, almost white, shag of hair from a mile away.

"Clay..." Marisol whispered in utter disbelief as she began staggering forward and eventually broke into a run towards the disfigured body. She prayed, selfishly, that this was some new recruit with an uncanny likeness to her closest companion, she prayed that this dead man was someone she had never laid her eyes on.

Bargaining with a higher power is of little use for scouts who knock on death's door at any given moment. This is the life of a scout; you live on borrowed time and cannot take anything for granted. Emotions are to be eradicated in this line of work, the death of one scout secures the lives of thousands of civilians, and up until this point Marisol had no issue in accepting the sacrifices that being a scout entailed.

Yet, Clay was not someone she could extend this rule towards.

Marisol had met Clay in her first year at cadet training. He was a standout through and through, his heart had been dedicated to this cause for years prior to joining the cadets, as he had dreamed of following in his father's footsteps as a commander of the Survey Corps. However, news had made its way to the cadet training base that Clay's father had died on the front lines during a week-long expedition outside the walls. From that moment onwards, Clay became a shell of the boy he used to be, no longer excelling in training, barely speaking, or eating as his world began to cave in. That was until Marisol took the time to get to know him and allow him a safe space to open up. The two became inseparable from that moment forward and leaned on each other through thick and thin as they manoeuvred their way through the trials and tribulations of training.

It was them against the world, a small space of serenity amidst the chaos.

All of this played in Marisol's mind as she was now mere steps away from the upper half of the blonde scout and yet was convinced that it would not be his soft face when she turned the body over. She was not going to see small scar by his chin from an accident with his ODM gear in the first year of training, she was not going to see his long lashes that had caused her so much jealously. She told herself this in an attempt to repel the reality as her heartbeat began racing.

Upon turning the body over with trembling hands, there it was, the small pink scar, the dark thick lashes, and everything else that made Clay the man he was. As she trembled at the body before her, she wanted so badly to cover her eyes but found it impossible to look away. Along with his lower body, his forearms had been bitten straight off, gnawed bone poked out between ripped, twitching, muscles, and tendons. Blood was pooling all around him as his internal organs displayed themselves through his exposed abdomen.

There was no denying reality and the floodgates opened as Marisol let out a wail that could be heard all round. She vigorously shook the shoulders of the dead boy in front of her demanding he wakes up, ignoring the warm sensation of his blood pouring all over her as she knelt against his abdomen that had been ripped clean off the rest of his body.

As Ness and the rest of Marisol's squad caught up to her, everyone hesitated as they halted behind the scenes unfolding. Whispers erupted between the scouts, questioning who the dead man was and why Marisol was hopelessly trying to revive a fully dismembered body. However, these whispers fell on deaf ears as Marisol had lost all semblance of reality at this point, her tear drops falling directly into Clay's unwavering open eyes.

Ness was the first to break from the squad as he jumped off his horse and tried to reason with Marisol.

"We need to leave, if more titans show up, we cannot face them alone back here, all the other squads have already travelled miles ahead." Ness sympathized with the girl whose emotional state was truly heart breaking, but as a squad commander, he had to look at the big picture and secure the safety of the rest of his squad, Marisol included.

"No!" Marisol's voice cracked as she yelled back, not breaking eye contact with Clay. She could not care less about the formalities in addressing a superior at this moment in time.

Ness leaned forward to try capture the girl's attention before he spoke again, "Managold, I am not going to address you again, you are jeopardizing the entire squad here-"

Before Ness could continue his thought, Marisol had drawn her blade towards him, forcing him to jump back slightly.

"I am not leaving him here! He...he is the only person I have in my life p-please, just continue on, if I have to die here I will, I just...I can't leave him!" Marisol's eyes became darker as she spoke, yet the anger she held was muted by the deeper feeling of hopelessness that slowly overtook her.

Ness looked towards the rest of the squad, some had their hands secured on the handles of their blades, ready to draw if Marisol made a move. However, his attention was diverted back to Marisol as her words got louder while she continued to shake the dead body in front of her.

"Clay! Please, I am here... I will make sure you are all right, just say something, anything! I just want to hear your voice! You're not dead...you are not dead!" Marisol's brain must have ignored the continuously growing pool of blood she was sitting in as she begged for the paling man in front of her to miraculously recover.

As the reality set in, she stopped shaking him and instead laid her head on his chest hugging him as tight as she could, never wanting to let go. She was so used to being in this position and would use his soothing heartbeat as a lullaby to help her fall asleep. Now, the only sensation she had was her own body convulsing as she continued to whimper against the top half of Clay that grew colder with the coming moments.

Having had enough and using this moment of vulnerability to his advantage, Ness gripped Marisol's shoulders as well as her legs as he carried her bridal style to his horse and mounted it. In addition to him having much greater strength than her, she was half the person she was moments ago when she had slain the titan, and her will to resist Ness had dissipated.

She was a sight to behold, without context anyone would have assumed that she was in fact the titan's victim. Clay's blood had gotten everywhere, most of her uniform was drenched and the tips of her hair stuck together in wet thick clumps as the blood had begun to thicken in the breeze. Her usual rosiness that extended from cheek to cheek had been replaced with a striking pallor. Ness could not care less about the blood that had now been smeared across his chest as he positioned Marisol on the horse in such a manner that he would be able to ride comfortably.

Marisol's eyes never left Clay as the horses began trotting away from the giant titan skeleton and Clay's comparably minute body that lay astray beside it. Despite feeling a deep-seated anger at Ness for taking her away from the only person she could call family, she was grateful that he only used one hand to guide his horse, with his other hand gripping onto her tightly to ensure she did not fall off the horse. Marisol had no strength left and felt as though she could faint at any moment. Instead of fighting it, she let the darkness overtake her as the final tears had rolled down her cheek.

What can only be described as hell ensued for Marisol as days passed and she was forced to confront the reality of Clay being gone. She would fall asleep to the sounds of her sobs and wake up to more tears without missing a beat.

The scouts had spent one additional day at a base camp outside the walls before returning from their expedition. Dieter Ness kept a close eye on the girl as she immediately retired to one of the tents and did not return for dinner nor breakfast the following morning. Although it was not uncommon for scouts to lose their appetite upon witnessing chaos and destruction up close, most were still able to have a handle on their emotions.

Ness knew that if any commander or captain were to witness Marisol's behaviour she would just as quickly be ousted from the scouts despite her immaculate titan-slaying record. However, after working closely with her for months, he could not help the heavy feeling in his chest as he tried, and failed, to get the girl back on track before the scouts prepared to return to the walls.

He was not about to unnecessarily lose another young scout.

Ness recognized the man that had died to hands of the abnormal, even if he had not known his name. Ness had often seen him waiting for Marisol outside their squad meetings and the two would reconvene in the evenings during missions to share their meals together. That being said, Ness knew that Marisol would have plenty of time to mourn once the mission was over, however, outside the walls, you have to be on alert at all times.

Marisol did not put up much of a fight when the time rolled around for the squad to return to position as they began their journey home, but everyone who knew Marisol could see that the grit, determination and fighting spirit that were essential to her makeup were being suppressed by a desolate air of melancholy.

As the scouts made their way back inside the walls, there was a joyous atmosphere of the civilians cheering on the soldiers for yet another successful journey. Amidst the cheers from the youth who desired to be just like these heroes one day, there were a few anxious faces of parents anticipating the relief of seeing their child return from battle unscathed - not all were to be so fortunate.

Marisol would have loved nothing more than to return to Wall Maria trotting happily next to Clay as they stuck their hands in the air, waving to all of those who welcomed them back. Instead, Marisol kept her eyes forward, not moving a muscle as she stoically passes through the crowds with a single goal of making it to the barracks without breaking down again.

She could not help but notice out of the corner of her eye, two children who looked not even double digits in age, holding hands. The boy beamed from ear to ear while waving at the scouts in an effort to receive a mere passing look. The girl, on the other hand, stared straight towards Marisol, her eye contact not breaking. While Marisol could not see the young girl's full facial expression owing to a large red scarf lying across her shoulders and wrapped all the way up to her nose, Marisol instantly felt a heaviness in her chest.

Marisol could not help but see herself and Clay in these children.

She turned her head towards the young girl and kept the eye-contact, Marisol managing the slightest of smiles while her eyes remained pained. It was only when the young boy started pointing at a more interesting group of scouts and forcing the girl along with him, that Marisol turned and continued forward.

Upon arriving at the regiment barracks, most of the scouts partook in a 'celebratory meal', celebrating what remained a mystery to Marisol as she made a beeline to her quarters knowing the only form of alleviation lay there.

As quick as she could, Marisol strode into her room, locked the door, and shrugged off her brown scout jacket, before crouching to look under her bed for a certain medium-sized box containing the temporary relief she desired. She fished her hand into the box, scrounging, until she found the small metallic flask. A small smile crept onto Marisol's face as she remembered how Clay gave her the flask and toxically intense alcohol for her 20th birthday with a small written message that read, 'Drink up birthday girl, it's only downhill from here'. Albeit a stupid message, she curses at herself for not keeping the letter and once again her emotions began to pour out.

She has to keep muttering to herself how she knew the risks of being a scout and she knew that death was all around, but she still could not fathom that he, her dearest friend, could be gone in an instant. Before she could let the mental torture go any further, she unscrewed the cap to the flask and poured whatever was left down her throat. The grating of the absinthe against her oesophagus, already raw from her incessant lamenting, could never feel like penance enough.

Upon realising that the tap ran dry after a mere tipping up of the flask, Marisol felt enraged that her torture would remain above water, no drowning in sight. She wanted to slap herself for forgetting that she had gone overboard on her birthday. She would have finished the flask in its entirety on that day, had Clay not grasped it and packed it away out of her vision before tending to the mess of a girl he had created that evening. That was the first time Marisol had consumed alcohol and she swore (unconvincingly so) that she would never touch it again.

Instantly Marisol rose to her feet and began to search through her cupboard for any lose change she had scrunched up in her pockets. After her money-collecting reconnaissance mission, Marisol had found a fair amount of spare change and some remaining notes from her last stipend which would allow her to buy enough drinks to numb her pain at the closest tavern. She thought over the fact that this money could be saved and used for a better purpose but the overbearing urge to forget about the tumultuous events of the last forty-eight hours was an uncontrollable impulse.

Without as much as a second thought, Marisol left her chamber in her thin white button up and white pants, not considering the sudden drop in temperature. As she went on her way, she used the back door through the mess hall, ignoring the looks of her squad who all sat and ate their dinner together. Marisol could not give one damn about fraternizing with her fellow scouts.

She walked with a purpose out the door and went straight towards the tavern with the single goal of blacking out and dealing with her reality some other day. In defiance of the cold night air that made Marisol want to turn back, she continued her brisk walk and turned the corner towards the orange lights that bloomed through the windows of a decrepit bar.

The door was heavy and creaked as Marisol began opening it, yet the desire to wash away her feelings overpowered her fragile state, and she pushed through.

Although not crowded, the bar was lively and in any other circumstance, Marisol would have been the life of the party by dancing and laughing with whoever extended a hand; but not tonight. There was a man playing some lively yet discordant tune on a rickety piano, his drunk state left Marisol feeling envious as she made her way towards the counter waiting for the barmaid's attention.

"Welcome love, what's your poison?" the woman asked as she extended a small smile, to which Marisol was in no mood to reciprocate.

"I want the hardest thing you've got, and I need two glasses of it." Marisol spoke with finality disregarding the looks of nearby patrons. She placed her money on the counter before the barmaid could retort by offering something lighter to start; money is money and so Marisol was given her order. She took the two glasses and sat down at a table along the wall where not too many people were congregating.

As she placed her drinks down, she looked ahead at the empty chair on the opposite side of the table and could not help but give a lowly chuckle at the irony before her: two chairs, two glasses and only one girl who could not feel more alone. She shook her head at the thought and began to down the first glass. The barmaid did not go easy on her and truly did fill her glass with something that stung.

Marisol chugged the glass before loudly setting it down on the table, eyes scrunched as she tried to recover from the intensity as fast as she could. Her throat burned but she could not stomach the embarrassment of asking for water or something lighter to wash the stiff drink down.

And so, after a few moments, the buzz began to settle, and Marisol's attention shifted to her light-headedness and warmth in her stomach. The onslaught of drunkenness was swift as Marisol had barely eaten over the last few days. Marisol instead decided to sip her next glass instead of gulping it down as she had only arrived a few minutes prior and was not planning to leave anytime soon.

Marisol put her hands over her face as she sunk slightly over the table. Her hair cascaded over her cheeks, and she could still smell the faint metallic edge of Clay's blood. She had not yet taken a proper shower since arriving back and had only dipped her hair in some river water on the day prior while outside the walls.

Despite the voice in the back of her head that had urged her not to rinse the blood off as it was the only reminder she had left of Clay (she heeded this urge for the first day, until the blood began to dry into an uncomfortable stickiness across her body, and the smell turned nauseating), she forced herself into the river and washed off his remnants as well as she could.

Time began to pass, and two drinks turned into four as the alcohol started to accomplish what Marisol desired. She felt delirious, her emotions had been spent and now her mind was spinning. Even if she wanted to think about Clay, and all that had happened, the minute she had tried, her mind would wonder to ten other topics, mixing them into a muddle causing her to not think straight in the slightest. What's more, the alcohol's effect had caused her brain to not register the tears streaming down her face until it was too late, leaving wet splotches to drip on the wooden table beneath her. She could not even try stopping the tears as she silently let streams descend her cheeks.

The barmaid slowly approached Marisol's table to clear the empty glasses and hopefully be on her way, yet Marisol's hand lazily draped over the barmaid's wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

"An-another round," Marisol managed to get out while looking down at the cleared table, "I...I'm good for it, here, I have this much, just get me whatever I can afford and make it strong, I don't think what you gave me be-before was really the strongest you've got." Marisol slightly slurred through hiccups as she slammed the remaining coins in the woman's hand and proceeded to plop her head onto her arm resting on the table.

"Love, I don't think you really need anything else, how about some water instead, you'll be needing to find your way home soon and I don't think you'll be able to in this state." The barmaid expressed in a soft tone, there was a motherly instinct in her voice as she tried to place the coins down on the table where Marisol's head lay.

"What I do and how I do it should not be your concern; I have enough money and I want my drink!" Despite attempting to sound threatening, Marisol's words came out in a garbled mess. The barmaid only let out a sympathetic sigh at the young girl's defiance and obliged.

However, as the woman made her way behind the bar, a man who sat on the short side of the L-shaped bar, in the relatively dark corner, placed a hand on the barmaid's upper arm before she could get to where she needed to.

In an unwavering whisper, the man spoke, "I will pay you whatever it takes for you to water down the next drink you hand that young lady." He reached into the pocket of his long coat and offered the unnerved woman a large bill between two of his slender fingers.

"Sir, I-I don't understand why-" Before the woman could finish her words, he spoke up again, his grey, forceful, eyes stared into her as he made what he felt was an unnecessary clarification.

"It is a simple fucking request: you walk behind your bar, you fill the glass with enough alcohol to taste, fill the rest with water, hand it to the young lady and continue with your evening...does that spell it out for you?" The barmaid simply nodded, took the money, and began to complete the request.

This man had his eyes on the girl from the minute she arrived over an hour and a half ago. She looked dishevelled, and instantly he felt disdain at the filth. Her hair looked to be clumped with what could only be dirt and her face, albeit with an edge of beauty, was weighed down by dark circles and an equally dark aura.

When she took her first two drinks and headed towards an empty table, the man turned back to his whisky waiting to see who would sit and share a drink with this troubled-looking girl. When he saw her down both drinks and silently cry to herself, he struggled to understand why he felt his chest tighten at the sight.

As he took a deeper look into the girl, he began to recognize her as a scout but could not place her in the forefront of any of his memories; no name coming to mind.

In spite of having no personal relation with the girl, he decided that he could not look away from the sight without a guilty conscience and began to devise how to approach her. When she had moved onto her fifth drink, he took the chance to intervene.

As the barmaid did what she was told, the man lifted himself up from his bar stool, smoothed out his silky black hair while grabbing his whisky and slowly walking over to the table where Marisol had been laying her head.

"Is this seat taken?" The man asked as he presumptuously planted his glass down on the table.

Something twitched in Marisol's mind as the voice sounded painfully familiar, yet all etiquette had escaped her in this drunken state and she grumbled her words out, "Sit if you want."

Without another word, he occupied the seat and took a long sip of his drink, only his second of the night and with his high tolerance (despite his small stature) his senses were as acute as ever.

"If you cannot handle your alcohol, I do not think this is where you should be spending your time." The man stated, nonchalantly, as he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other.

Marisol did not want to expend the little energy she had left on dignifying that comment with a response, she just wanted her last drink before she would try stumble her way back to the barracks.

As the barmaid made her way over the table, she warily placed down the drink, earning a slight nod from the confident looking man before scurrying away.

Without as much as a glance in his direction, Marisol's eyes went straight to her glass as she swigged the last of her many drinks. Upon swallowing, she missed that familiar burn and discomfort she had become accustomed to that evening and immediately wanted nothing more than to demand a replacement drink. However, as she began to raise her hand in the air, the man opposite her reached out to grab her wrist, causing Marisol to face him.

"C-captain Levi…"

Marisol stuttered as her face turned a bright shade of red. Even with her intoxication, Marisol was mortified that this was her first interaction with humanity's strongest soldier. She had always seen him during missions, decapitating titans in an awe-inspiring manner and yet here he was seeing her at her lowest.

Marisol had thrown all caution to the wind tonight, convinced she would be able to slip in and out of the Survey Corps headquarters without detection and find some relief from her heartache. She wanted to laugh at the irony of her situation, convinced that Captain Levi would order for her resignation first thing tomorrow morning.

"I suggest you put the drink down before alcohol poisoning puts you down," Levi's stern tone blunted the sarcastic edge of his words. As if halting to attention, Marisol sobered (if only for a moment) to heed his advice.

"Good, now do you mind telling me what all this is about?" Levi questioned as his eyes scanned her up and down. Marisol instantly felt a chill pass through her. However much she tried, inebriation was not assisting her in keeping her composure as she addressed her superior.

"It's obvious, is it not?" She paused to let out a dry laugh that got caught in her throat as she hiccupped her way through the rest of her thoughts, "I'm celebrating the worst day of my life…cheers to that!" Despite her actions occurring languidly, she gripped Levi's glass from the other side of the table and downed the half drink that remained with instant regret, not at her action itself (a faux pas of note), but at the medicinal taste of the liquor. She felt bile rise in the back of her throat but forced it down with whatever willpower remained.

Levi did not know how to react to what he had just witnessed but knew that if he had up and left, the girl's fate could be much worse than a simple hangover.

Without as much as asking her name, his brain fully committed himself to his captain persona.

"Alright, that's it, let's get you home," Levi said as he stood up and proceeded to pick Marisol up, out of her chair. For their similar height, his strength surpassed hers tenfold. Marisol could barely pull her arm away from him as she tried to resist the captain.

"If you're looking for a quick fuck, I suggest one of those disgusting brothels in the Underground." Marisol slurred out, not registering what she was saying at this point.

Levi could not blame the girl for what she was saying, she was drunk out of her mind. In spite of her recognition of Levi, any objective voyeur would conclude that he had picked her up with ill-intent. And, although the brothel comment did cause Levi's ears to prick up, he once again could not come to blame her for the sentiment that everyone on the surface held of the Underground. Marisol was none the wiser about Levi's childhood nor how those very brothels were how he came to be.

Levi simply marched on with his hand on the girl's arm as he informed her of exactly where he planned to take her, "I know you are scout; I am not doing you any favours. I am making my way home and I will drop you outside your quarters."

Levi opened the heavy tavern door, and the pair were hit with an icy breeze, causing Marisol to shiver under Levi's grip.

He sighed as he realised how she was wearing nothing but her thin button-up.

"The worry of alcohol poisoning is enough of a headache; I don't need you getting pneumonia too." Levi muttered as he briefly let go of Marisol's arm to shrug off his coat and place it over her shoulders.

Marisol nodded her head lightly in appreciation as she began to walk ahead herself, only to slightly stumble, tripping over her own two feet.

Levi's reflexes kicked in and he secured a hand around Marisol's waist before she had the chance to seriously injure herself. To Levi's dismay, his heartbeat quickened at the close proximity, yet he forced himself to ignore this innate reaction. He simply slung her arm over his shoulders to create a more effective hold as he hauled the both of them through the empty streets.

As they reached the entrance of the barracks, most activity had died down, except for a few stragglers having muted conversations in the dining hall. Everyone that Levi passed stood to attention in his presence albeit with confused looks at the girl being dragged in.

"Is that Managold? No way, this has got to be the most embarrassing thing I have ever seen." One young scout whispered to another, unaware that the captain could hear every word as he dragged Marisol up the stairs.

Levi made a mental note of the name as he yet to find the opportunity to ask the girl directly. Levi then tuned his ears back to the conversation.

"I think she was the one to take down the abnormal a couple of days ago, it's a shame no one will remember that though, her mental breakdown after was far more entertaining. You can't help but feel bad for the chick but hey if she can't handle the pressure, she shouldn't be a scout." The young male scouts let out a light chuckle after their words.

Levi directed his attention to the girl in his arms but luckily, she was too far gone to have heard the slander. Levi hated petty gossip and would have put those young recruits in their place without a second thought had it not been for a more pressing matter: getting Managold to bed.

"Hand me your key, what's your room number?" Levi asked as the girl dug in her pocket to no avail.

"I…I swear it was right here, I don't know…" Marisol trailed off, feeling even more pathetic than before as she had seemingly lost her key in her drunken state.

Without missing a beat Levi huffed and dragged the girl in the opposite direction.

"Where are you taking me?" Marisol asked through hooded eyes as she looked towards Levi.

"My quarters, you can sleep on my bed, I will take the floor for the evening."

"Captain, I c-can't impose myself upon you like this." Marisol blushed at Levi's humility, however, she felt shameful that this humility was out of pity at her risible state. This was not how any scout should behave and she knew it, all that Marisol could do was pray that Levi would not escalate this to Commander Smith or anyone else who could kick her out the Survey Corps in an instant.

Trapped in her thoughts, it almost went over her head when Levi next spoke.

"I would not be a captain if I did not know how to come up with solutions at a moment's notice. I'm extending my assistance with the trust that I will never see this foolish behaviour again from you." Levi did feel sorry for the helpless girl before him and perhaps would have spoken with an edge of care had he known the full extent of the catalyst for tonight's events. However, at the end of the day he is her superior and it is his job to keep the scouts in check.

Marisol nodded as they continued their walk (a walk on Levi's part and a limp from Marisol) towards the captain's room. As they arrived at the door, Levi steadied Marisol on her feet before reaching in his pocket for his key.

Although his room was not too much larger than her own, it was kept in pristine condition. The bed was immaculately made with hospital corners and on the opposite wall was a desk with neatly stacked pages. Despite not purposefully losing her keys, Marisol was slightly relieved that Levi did not have the opportunity to enter her chaotic abode.

Marisol removed Levi's coat from her shoulders, sheepishly handing it over to him. She sat down on the bed and began to take off her boots and harness while Levi took one of the pillows from the bed and placed it on a large leather chair in the corner of his room. Levi hung the coat on a hook behind his door and ran a hand through his curtains of hair.

Marisol felt a sudden wave of nerves as she tried to express her gratitude towards Levi. Tucking herself beneath his sheets felt so personal, she could not help but wonder why he would go to this length, bringing someone who was practically a stranger into his chamber.

Levi's hard exterior had given him the reputation as the most unapproachable superior within the Survey Corps, his affability extended solely to his squad, Commander Smith and Hange Zoë, or so it had been said. Although Levi justified his current gesture with the rationale that these were his duties as a captain, lodging her for the night (and selflessly retiring to a chair) was the ultimate display of chivalry and Marisol's heart instinctively fluttered at the thought.

"I cannot express my gratitude enough captain, I'm…I'm really sorry-" Marisol's words got caught in her throat as her lip began to quiver. She instantly turned in the bed to face the wall, away from Levi's gaze. She did not want to cry in front of the captain, but she was out of her head and could not control her emotions.

Clearly, her mission of suppressing her feelings through substances had failed. There was no respite in sight, and she felt her throat physically close at the thought of informing Levi that her grand display of quasi-psychosis came to be because 'Clay is dead'. She never wanted to utter those words aloud.

Although Levi could only see the back of the girl's head, he could hear the sniffling and gentle tears as well as see her body lightly shake as she curled up into herself. Levi stiffened in his chair, at a loss, not knowing how to comfort the girl without his words sounding harsh or callous.

"J-just try go to sleep, we can deal with this in the morning." Levi said in hopes that the girl would come to her senses.

However, Marisol's weeping only continued as Levi's words had little impact. Sighing he rubbed his temple wondering how he could get the girl to sleep so he could get himself in order and work out his own sleeping arrangements.

He slowly lifted himself from the chair and walked over to the bed, Levi had not consoled too many people in his time, and so this was unchartered territory. He sat on the edge of the bed and warily reached a hand out to pat Marisol on the head in a display of reassurance. To anyone, this would have looked most awkward as Levi was brought out of his comfort zone of stoicism.

Slowly his movements became less rigid as he began to stroke the girls head and let out quiet hushes to calm her down. Despite the metallic odour of blood becoming overwhelming apparent from his proximity to the girl, he pushed aside his aversion and focused on doing what he could to comfort the disturbed girl.

After a few moments Marisol's breathing stabilised and her tears had stopped falling. Levi had lulled her to sleep, and he felt utter relief as he stepped away from her.

Levi let out a sigh as he sunk into the chair in the corner of his room, looking at the clock to see how late it was. He realised that he was not going to get much sleep tonight but decided to close his eyes anyway and see if any rest would be possible.

He had so many questions about this mysterious Managold woman but put them to bed for the time being as he just felt relief that he was able to help her get to sleep, safe and sound.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my current passion project. I am loving the feeling of writing again; it has been years since I sat down and decided to write fanfiction. I am just writing this here to clarify a few things before going forward on

I wrote this with the intention of posting only on AO3 but want to cross-post as I, for the longest time, ONLY used and never ventured anywhere near AO3 with their complex tagging system and reputation for being a 'smut haven' hahaha.

If you prefer AO3 you can read this story, there using this link: /works/41873862/chapters/105078969

However, I do want to emphasize that although smut is not something I ever write, I may decide to venture into those murky waters as this story continues (don't worry it will not be any time soon as this is very much a slow burn fanfiction) and so I will have to decide either to change the rating going forward and bowdlerize the AO3 content to make it non-explicit here, or simply link those chapters when the time comes and only post the SFW chapters here. It all depends on the reaction I get here, if people are interested and want me to continue the story just as much as, or more than on AO3 I will decide, but if not, I will drop the story after a while.

Anyway, that is it for now, please let me know how you are finding the story, I will upload chapter 2 later this weekend and then start uploading via a schedule for chapter 3 onwards.

Farewell for now xoxo