Chapter 36: Can't Hide from the Corners of My Mind

Nora should have known that Hange had invited her for tea in her office with an ulterior motive. Levi was the one who usually bothered to bring some, and he was currently out of commission.

"I can't stall any longer," Hange said, apologetic. "We'll have to depart for Shiganshina first thing tomorrow to report the mission in more detail and discuss our next steps. Commander Pyxis will meet us there on behalf of the Assembly. At least it's better than having to travel all the way to Mitras and talk to all of them."

That was a problem. Worry squeezed at Nora's stomach. "But in his state, Levi shouldn't—"

"He won't come with us. That's part of the reason I absolutely can't leave without you, sorry. Not only did you see what went down in the facility, you're also his second in command and therefore right next in line."

Nora had never liked being separated from him, but the thought had never elevated her pulse to the point it was difficult to breathe. "Yeah, of course. Makes perfect sense." As calm as she sounded, fiddling with her necklace was a compulsion. She would have no clue what was happening here, no control. No way to know that he was okay, was being his stoic yet grumpy self.

"He'll be fine," Hange said gently, her gaze flicking to Nora's necklace. "He won't fall into another coma."

"I know that," she snapped, gladly latching on to the rising anger. "Why're you even saying that? I already said yes, didn't I?"

Hange ignored her bad temper with years-long experience. "We'll be back the day after," she assured, still in that infuriatingly gentle tone.

It was too much to handle. Nora let go of her necklace, dropping her hands on the desk with a smack. "Will you stop treating me like the silly little wimp I am?" Wasn't it enough that she was reminded of it every single time she looked at Levi, every time she left the hospital ward, and above all, every time the door to their quarters fell closed behind her back at night? "Just ignore it like I'm trying to, please. I'm dealing with it, I'm a sodding soldier doing soldier things."

Inexplicably, Hange looked quite upset. Her hand moved towards Nora's—before retreating halfway. "You're strong, Nora, you're not—"

She scoffed, steering the talk back on track. "So to which time should I set my alarm clock?"

Hange let out a resigned sigh. "The three of us will leave right after an early breakfast."

Nora's brows knitted, a suspicion already rising. "Three?"

"We're taking Doctor Ayad with us. Pyxis has to question him before we're allowed to proceed as we'll discuss."

And here she had thought she couldn't look any less forward to the trip. "Marvellous. Let's just hope I won't strangle him before we make it there. Pyxis would think I've got no manners."

One corner of Hange's mouth curved up. "Come on, the doc's not that bad."

"Of course you'd say that. You like everyone." Hell, Nora and Levi were her best friends. That alone said it all.

"I do not." Hange splayed her palm across her chest in feigned indignation. "I just think he's far from dull company." A mildly unhinged grin split her face. "Maybe he'll tell us some titan science facts on the way, or share bits and pieces of his research with us."

"Or maybe he intends to fish for information."

Hange's smile did not waver. "We'll get somewhere with him rather sooner than later, you'll see."

How could one of the smartest people Nora knew be so irritatingly optimistic?

#

Even by train, the journey from Port Paradis to Shiganshina was long and strenuous. Hours upon hours in a small, overheated wagon, with nothing but her racing thoughts to entertain her—aside from Hange's and Ayad's occasional chitchat. They did talk science, but each was careful not to reveal anything of substance that the other didn't know already, so listening to their tortuous discussions was a rather ineffective time killer.

Twice, he probed Nora about her powers under the pretence of sharing details about shifters, his aim clearly to narrow down which Titan she was; he mentioned things like hardening abilities and endurance. The first time, she told him, "Wouldn't you like to know?", and to his second try she responded with "Piss off".

From then on, she could focus on brooding. When she'd told Levi goodbye yesterday after dinner, he hadn't exactly seemed bothered, just nodded off the news and that was it. And basically kicked her out, ordering her to sleep. But his frown had deepened near imperceptibly, the characteristic downward curve of his mouth growing steeper. Nora thought she recognised the expression: restlessness and irritation, mostly, because he had to lie around and wait for them to come back to learn about any new developments.

Technically, they hadn't said goodbye. They never did. Neither did they kiss goodbye. One of those unspoken rules they had somehow established. When one of them—usually him—had to go somewhere, the other was informed about the nature and the duration of the trip, and that was it. She didn't know what his reasoning was—it probably wasn't a big deal to him—but for her it felt less like a goodbye, that way.

When they reunited, however, they did kiss hello, without ever saying hello.

She clung to that mental image for the rest of the trip.

#

They entered the common room—on the third floor of the shiny new Garrison base in Shiganshina, mostly reserved for higher-ups—without Ayad first, leaving him with guards outside, for now. Not that they were needed, according to him, seeing as trying to run "would achieve nothing but cost him his window privilege". "And your food isn't half bad, either," he had added with an amount of surprise that rendered the compliment backhanded.

While it wasn't a lot compared to Mitras, the room was more extravagant than anything Nora had ever seen in Survey Corps bases. The deep crimson tapestry, though going well with the polished cherrywood furniture, had an oppressive effect on her. (To be fair, it wasn't quite her colour, especially not lately.) In one corner stood a small bar and a cabinet full of wine bottles; not a single shelf was even half empty. The Garrison soldiers were still living up to their reputation.

Only one of the round tables was occupied, but Pyxis wasn't alone; with him sat Peter, reclining back in his chair with long legs stretched out under the table, chuckling about something his commander had said. The sight of him was more of a surprise than it should have been; he was one of the very few calling the shots here in Shiganshina, after all—but Nora hadn't prepared herself for talking to anyone other than Pyxis, and even less so someone with whom she definitely had more than a nodding acquaintance.

Whatever must have shown on her face—'taken aback' wasn't usually the politest look—didn't seem to offend them. Hange's amicability probably made up for it; both Garrison soldiers greeted them with sincere, good-natured smiles. Pyxis with his usual delight upon the "rare sight" Nora presented, and Peter…

Good-natured he might be, but something was off; his smile didn't reach his eyes as he studied her.

Once they all sat around the table and Pyxis had exchanged a few pleasantries with Hange, his eyes found Nora's, scrutinising, the countless wrinkles around them deepening. "How is Captain Levi? Or should I rather ask how you are doing?" The characteristic impish glint in his eyes was absent, replaced by the worst thing of all: compassion.

Hange had of course sent word from the south after their return, so they knew the gist of what had happened in the facility and afterwards. Still, a more detailed report and a personal meeting with their newest captive were imperative, and who better to fulfil this task in the Assembly's name than Pyxis? The man was an expert in reading people.

As was the problem at present. Nora'd rather have launched into her report straight away, and that was saying something.

"I'm quite alright, thank you," she said primly. Professional. "And the captain is recovering." Because obviously, those two things were entirely unrelated.

Pyxis' shrewd eyes narrowed at her, his moustache twitching above a small grin. "Of course you are alright. I am delighted to hear this."

Well, that must have been the politest sarcasm Nora had ever encountered.

"Anyway." He rose, sauntering to the wine cabinet. "Before we get started, would you like a glass of wine? It's one of the finest Marley has to offer." He took out a bottle, apparently not hinging the decision to have some himself on his companions.

So that was where that particular part of the Marleyan survey ships' cargo had disappeared to, Nora thought. She'd bet her arse the rest had been distributed to places the MPs and the members of the Assembly frequented.

"No thank you," Hange said, smiling leniently. It seemed to Nora she swallowed the "I'm on duty."

Nora's distaste for alcohol had reached a new level since her night of questionable decision-making back in Marley, so she declined, as well. Peter followed suit.

Pyxis brought them water, instead, lifting an eyebrow at his subordinate as he poured his own wineglass. "So responsible today. I knew what I was doing when I promoted you." From the corner of her eye, Nora saw Peter's gaze flick to her and back to his commander, whose grin suddenly brightened. "You're missing out, though. Who knows if you'll have another opportunity to try this exceptional delicacy? I know you do appreciate a good glass, every now and then."

Another side glance at her. Where the auburn stubble didn't reach, there was a bit of colour high in Peter's cheeks, but he gave an easy smile. "I will take that risk, sir."

Nora got the sense she was missing something here, but it couldn't be important, so she didn't bother trying to suss it out.

"So, now that we're all settled—" Pyxis raised his glass at them and took a sip. "—let us get started."

"Should I leave, sir?" Peter asked, half standing up. Apparently, he'd only been here for a break and a little chat.

"As far as I'm concerned, no," Pyxis told him. "But I'll leave the decision to Commander Hange."

Hange shook her head. "Not necessary."

Nora bit her lip, fidgeting with the hair tie around her wrist. It would have been easier with one pair of eyes and ears less. Especially if they belonged to an aggressively nice ex who would look at her in a way that reminded her what she was talking about, and how she ought to feel about it. She'd really rather keep to the facts. There was an unfortunate amount of time for the feelings part when she was alone.

She'd just have to avoid looking at him. Pyxis was bad enough; his attention was already on her, golden eyes alert and expectant.

Nora took a deep inhale through her nose and started at the beginning.

#

Right after she had done her job, Nora excused herself and, with Hange's permission, left the room. If Ayad really happened to say something of relevance, Hange would let her know anyway. One additional minute in there and she would have… she wouldn't have stayed as professional as she would have liked.

Telling the story… it was like they left the airship all over again, leaping into the dark and unknown. They murdered and painted the corridors with blood again. Connie died again. Levi got shot again. Just like in her dreams.

It had been so easy and so difficult to recapitulate everything in vivid detail.

Stop thinking about it. It's over.

Nora sat on one of the chairs lining the wall opposite of the doors, hands interlaced tightly in her lap. She watched her bobbing knees, focusing on very profound thoughts, like how she'd make herself some tea as soon as Hange and she retreated to the Survey Corps base for the night. Then, with her hands around and her nose above the steaming cup, she could imagine Levi sitting in his bed in the hospital ward back at Port Paradis, doing the same. Then again, who'd bring him his tea, with her gone?

Steps sounded along the corridor, nothing that concerned her—until a hand landed on her shoulder, startling her. She looked up, scowling—and found Peter's deep blue eyes.

He wasn't smiling. He hadn't since the moment she had started talking in there, and once he'd followed her outside afterwards, he'd left with nothing more than a friendly nod at her. She hadn't expected him to come back.

"Can we talk?" he asked, still so uncharacteristically serious.

Oh dear. Nora suppressed a sigh. "If it's about my little story earlier, then no need. It sucks, I know, and I appreciate the sentiment, but please spare me your condolences or any such rubbish."

Instead of being offended, he offered her a sheepish grin. "Ah, you got me. Should've known better." He shook his head at her, expression sobering. "Okay, no condolences. That's not why I'm asking, anyway. So, can we…" He jerked his chin towards one of the doors down the corridor.

That was new. The last time they'd talked in private had been… when they'd broken up, probably? Roughly four years ago. Time flew. "Uh, alright," Nora said, unsure if she should be curious or apprehensive.

Only then did Peter remove his hand from her shoulder, straightening to his full six feet. He led her into a small office—likely his, she realised. Once the door fell shut behind them, he faced her, leaving just enough space between them that she could somewhat comfortably look up at him—and he down; but nothing about him seemed comfortable. He was like a whole other person; a far cry from the confident, happy-go-lucky bloke with his perpetual smile.

"I read the newspaper the other day," he said, his tone expectant. Nothing else.

Okay? "Good for you." She scratched at her scalp.

Peter cleared his throat. "So, you're the one who…" He was staring at her as if he was waiting for an explosion or something.

Ah, right. Apparently, Pyxis hadn't let him in on the secret before it got out. "Ate another person?" she finished for him. "Yes."

She half expected him to recoil, but he didn't. It probably took more after listening to her recount of her little killing spree in the facility. Lucky her, Nora was instead subjected to yet another round of compassion.

"I had no idea," Peter said. "It somehow never occurred to me that, out of the ten, you would… I'm so sorry you had to go through that." He was utterly sincere, looking at her the same he always had, just sadder; seeing the person and leaving out the soldier who had done unspeakable things.

Blimey, was he nice. He really couldn't help himself, could he? It was so entirely wasted on her. How had someone like him stuck with her for a whole year? Patience truly was a virtue, and one Nora had no first-hand experience with. Her lips curved up even as her brow creased. "What did I say about condolences, Peter?"

"Right, sorry." Of course, he'd apologise for apologising. "But it's really not why I'm bothering you." He jammed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, broad shoulders curving forwards. Taking up marginally less space than usual. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but… Captain Levi was the one entrusted with the injection and the decision, right?"

"Right," Nora confirmed, suspicious. She did not like where this was leading.

"That's—" Peter bit his lip, clearly battling himself, likely because he wasn't used to saying anything that was even the slightest bit critical. "—kind of messed up, don't you think?"

"A tad." And then some.

"Were you already a thing, back then?"

She was pondering how she wanted to answer that—not with, 'We were shagging almost every night, so yes, but also no'—when the real question occurred to her. "Would that make it better, or worse?" Nora cocked her head, honestly curious because she couldn't decide.

Peter shrugged, gaze skittering away for a moment, maybe second-guessing his straightforwardness. Nevertheless, he kept it up. "It's not my place to judge, but—"

"But you're gonna do it anyway."

"Do you know what you're doing?" A divot appeared between his reddish brows. He was talking faster now, as though he wanted to get it out before he lost his nerve. "The man's already hardly relationship material as is, everyone can see that, and now with this on top… It doesn't seem healthy, is all I'm saying." Something about Nora's expression had him lift his hands in a placating gesture.

The heat sparking in her chest must have shown. Sticking his nose in her business was one thing—she'd rather have Peter be so surprisingly frank with her than engage in superficial conversation full of hidden meaning and him beating around the bush—but she really, really did not appreciate the condescension. Last time she had checked, she was a grown-arse thirty-year-old.

She crossed her arms. "Ah well, in that case. Suppose I'll break up with him, then. Two years after the fact, why not. Cheers for making me see clearly."

"No, that's not—" Peter broke off, looking caught. Maybe because he realised it kind of was, even if he hadn't meant to. "I'm just concerned." He surveyed her from head to toe, his square jaw clenching. "That's why we're here."

Nora suddenly wished she hadn't taken off the coat belonging to her standard Survey Corps uniform. To hide how the white shirt and trousers sat a little looser than she was used to. And maybe she should've used some powder to at least try to conceal her deep purple eye circles—not that she owned such an item. It had nothing to do with vanity and everything with feeling like she was living in a goldfish bowl.

"I can see you aren't well," Peter said. "Completely different from when we met earlier this year."

Gee, wonder why? Since then, Eren only deserted us and with him, we lost the coordinate, and are therefore most likely doomed. And then I suggested a little field trip where I saw a dear friend get shot in the head and my boyfriend nearly bleed out right under my nose.

She felt it creeping up on her then. Shivers running down her spine, alternating between hot and cold. Her face and her fingertips prickling. That feeling as if her palpitating heart would jump out of her throat.

No. Not here, not now. Not again. Better not focus on Peter's bloody useless concern. Besides, she could hardly tell him she was fine when she evidently looked like utter shite. She was like a vase that had been broken and glued together several times over. Each time, some shards would get lost without any chance of recovery, leaving increasingly more chinks.

And now, this time, the glue was barely holding everything together. This time, she had exceeded her fucking limit. Prod, and all the pieces would fall apart.

Fuck this. Stick to the facts. Behind her back, Nora dug her nails into her forearm, fingers curling around the fabric of her shirt. "Look, you don't know Levi all that well."

"Of course, but—"

"And, more importantly, you don't know me as well as you think, apparently." Peter's eyes widened. She didn't need to be good at reading people to see that she had hurt him. But they'd started getting more real with each other the last time they had met, and he had, of his own volition, taken this to the next level today. Now he could see for himself how he liked knowing her better. "When you're a Scout long enough, you inevitably stop giving a shit about healthy in the mental sense. The only thing that matters is if you're still here, and I sure as hell know why I am. And that goes even without what happened at the Battle."

Peter's lips became a thin line as understanding crept into his expression. He opened his mouth, changed his mind, closed it again, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. While he didn't look happy, the expected disapproval was missing. "I know you're miffed, but I wish you'd been this candid with me back when we were together. Then I sure wouldn't have—"

"Water under the bridge, Peter," she told him, really not keen on hearing the rest. But Nora refused to take all of the blame; most was enough. There were several things he could reproach her with, but she, not candid enough? Well, she'd give him candid. "Besides, you didn't ever bother to look all that closely."

For one thing, while he hadn't known any details, he had been aware that her mother was sick. Yet he had barely asked about it, only wanted to know why Nora didn't have time on many evenings and nights. As a whole, he had lacked intuition for her emotional states, instead calling her "tough". Meant as a compliment, yet it felt like a punch in the gut. She hadn't felt tough, not a single day, and certainly not on those she wanted to fling herself off the sodding Wall. She had felt like nothing.

Peter's hands clenched into fists by his sides. "You didn't let me. You shut me out."

"I was always honest."

"I never claimed anything to the contrary. It's one of the things that drew me to you." The volume of Peter's voice had risen. His features were tense all over, lowered brows seeming to darken his eyes.

He was angry. Nora had managed to make him angry. She hadn't known his face could do that. Even when he'd broken up with her, he'd barely shown any irritation, only made sad puppy dog eyes. Of course, she had apologised then—for not being "emotionally available", she supposed—but that hadn't really helped; she had only confirmed what he must have hoped she would dispute.

"He's a lucky bastard," Peter spoke into the taut silence all of a sudden. "Just wondering if he knows. And if he lets you know." To say he sounded doubtful would have been an understatement.

For seconds on end, Nora was at a loss for words. She didn't know what she had expected at this point of the conversation, but certainly not that. All she could do was shake her head at him. "I cannot comprehend why you, of all people, would say that."

"I know you that well, at least," he said pointedly. "And maybe you don't know me quite as well as you think, either. Not anymore." With that, all the fight drained from his posture, shoulders sagging. His body seemed to lack the endurance for prolonged anger, unpractised as it was with the emotion. Peter's eyes went soft, locking with hers. "I just want you to be alright, Nora."

A lump formed in her throat in an instant. The hot-cold shivers returned together with the prickling skin. Pressure built behind her eyes.

It was time to get the fuck out of here.

She swallowed, staring blankly straight through his chest, controlling her voice. "Well, and I want world peace and a mountain of chocolate that doesn't give me constipation, yet here we are."

This time, he didn't tell her to "take care" when she left. He likely thought it a futile effort. Or he just thought she was a frigid bitch. Which was fair enough, seeing as she had behaved like one.

So much had changed since the beginning of this year. So much had gone straight to shit. Back then, Peter had said, "the Scouts are where you always belonged". Apparently, this hadn't included Levi, and now Peter would probably take it back as a whole.

Because she wasn't alright. She had no idea when she had last been alright. Even in all those fleeting moments of happiness she had Levi to thank for, she wasn't alright. She hadn't been alright before the mission, and now she really, really wasn't alright.

Yet, unlike Peter, she wouldn't take it back, nothing from the past three years, beginning at the moment she'd first stepped into the Survey Corps HQ. This life she led was truth and reality, her reality, and sometimes, oftentimes, those were just ugly. She was where she belonged, as much as she could under the circumstances; nobody belonged in a war, except those who declared it.

Nora only knew she couldn't be anywhere else, with anyone else. It might be destroying her bit by bit, but at least there was something to destroy.

She might not feel like nothing, anymore, but she sure didn't feel tough. Not even a little.

#

It had first happened three days after Levi had woken up, when she retired into their quarters for the night. On her own, once again. She had lain down in their bed, enveloped in silence. Just go to sleep and get this over with, she inwardly told herself—and her mind immediately and inevitably drifted to the nightmare of the night before. To Connie, right next to her, and Levi, right under her hands—and there, she opened her eyes again, fighting to put a stop to this.

Levi. He was awake, he was healing, he was one floor and the length of a corridor away from her. He would fully recover. Probably. She hadn't lost him.

Yet.

Sometimes, reality—a new status quo—needed a few days to settle in, to transition from mere knowing to a full-body awareness. It could only happen once the initial whirlwind of emotions—despair and shock and, lastly, joy—had calmed down enough to free some space. That was what must have happened that evening. The silence suddenly felt stifling. Hot flushes broke out just underneath her skin, yet she was shivering. Her heart was hammering against her throat, almost making her gag. She had to sit up immediately, hugging her knees. It didn't help. She couldn't sit still, she kept rocking, rocking, rocking. Cold sweat gathered on her forehead, the nape of her neck. Her guts were coiling and twisting, and when she started to feel dizzy, she noticed her breath was coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

Bathroom. She had to stand up and go to the bathroom instantly. It felt like she was dying. She had no idea if she was going to faint or puke or shit or everything at once. In the end, she did neither, just spent what must have been at least half an hour curled up on the floor between the wash basin and the toilet, her cheek pressing against the cold tiles.

When the worst finally subsided, she was left with a strange mix of residual, bone-deep dread and relief. It was not entirely unfamiliar.

She knew what had just happened to her. But she hadn't had them ever since the last two or so of the years she had tended to her mum, when she'd been arguably more alone than she would have been on her own. Indeed, they went away once she was on her own. Yes, she'd been sad, fuck had she been sad, but she hadn't been caged any longer, waiting for the worst, waiting for both of them to be set free.

She couldn't recall the panic attacks ever feeling this awful, though. But maybe that was because your brain made you forget just how excruciating the pain you once experienced was, physical or mental in nature. Only a vague but deeply ingrained impression remained, or else you wouldn't be able to move on, and maybe survive going through it again.

Going through it again.

No, Nora thought as she splashed her face with cold water, ignoring how her hands were still shaking. She felt better now. She would feel even better in the morning, and she would feel better with every day that passed. Soon, Levi would be back here, alive and well and warm next to her in bed, and she would get her shit together and move on.

In the meantime, she'd just have to deal with the nightmares. They wouldn't go anywhere, obviously, had been a constant in her life for ages. But she refused to repeat this little performance tomorrow. It was just a fluke, the unavoidable culmination of all the stress, only logical, and now it was out of her system.

So she'd thought. But it had happened again, that next day. And the day after, and the day after.

No matter if awake or asleep; as soon as the night fell, there was no peace.

AN: It's weird how I got somewhat attached to a character that developed on his own in my head during OMWF, fleshing himself out bit by bit. Back then, I never even meant to include him, he was just background knowledge for me.

Anyway, getting into Nora's head for this one was kind of intense. But writing a character's POV is especially fun when they're not always right. And when they are... not alright.