And I thought life was hard enough the first time.

OC self-insert (because I'm that shameless)

This one gives me unspeakable pains much more unspeakable than any other pain I have ever had with any other chapter. I am barely coherent.

PEACE OUT

-0-

I felt like a poorly glued-together figurine. Sure, I was standing now, but it was a matter of time before the meagre amount of glue dried and I fell apart.

I played with my soup, still feeling sick to my stomach. I could feel Armin's concerned gaze, but I couldn't do anything to alleviate his worry. The image of Marco was still painted behind my eyelids – evidence of my failure. If I couldn't even save one of my closest friends, what use was I?

A hand was placed over mine, stilling it. I stared at my hand momentarily; I hadn't noticed I had been tapping my fingers. Man, I was so out of it. I looked up at Mikasa, her eyes glinting with worry.

"There's something wrong," she stated. She didn't ask, but she didn't have to. She already knew there was something wrong.

I didn't answer, trying to figure out a way to answer the question that wasn't a question in a way that made it sound like I wasn't falling apart. I cleared my throat, shifting my hand away and pushing my mess tin from me at the same time. "No," I answered, shaking my head and keeping my gaze on the table. "I'm fine. Really. I just – a lot of dead people today."

"Bullshit," Armin refuted immediately. I glanced up at him at the curse. "What's really wrong?"

How to say it, how to say it. I tapped my spoon against my mess tin. God, I wanted to hurl. "I found Marco."

"That's good."

I bit back a sigh. "No, not good." I cleared my throat again; my voice was starting to sound weird. "He was, uh… he's dead."

The silence that followed grinded against my skin. I shifted, feeling uncomfortable. It was different, saying I had seen dead people and I had seen Marco dead. We knew Marco. We had spoken with him and practically grown up with him. I could barely wrap my head around the fact that he was gone. I wouldn't see him around anymore or joke around with him. He was going to be one of them – one of those people who left.

"I'm sorry," Mikasa said softly.

I tapped my spoon against my mess tin again, looking up at her. "Why are you apologising? It's not like you had anything to do with it."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Well, no, but weren't you – "

I had no idea what she was going to say as Jean thought that was the ideal moment to make an entrance. Normally, his entrance wouldn't have been noticed by us, but there was a dark aura hanging above him that caught everyone's attention.

He stopped next to our table, blinking down at us as if he just noticed us. I glanced up at him curiously, pushing away the fog of grief that threatened to cloud my senses. He took one look at me and flinched. I raised an eyebrow. Okay, not the weirdest reaction Jean has ever had towards me, but it was definitely one of the weirdest.

"Yes?" Mikasa asked impatiently.

Jean's hand rose to scratch the back of his neck. "They're going to start the pyre soon," he mumbled, looking down at the ground.

I understood what he was trying to say. I stood up, my soup untouched as I pocketed the small roll of bread we were given. I still wasn't hungry, but I would be eventually. "We'll be there," I replied, glancing quickly at my two best friends and seeing they weren't averse to it.

I almost wished I hadn't said that.

Hours later, I stared into the flames, Mikasa and Armin standing silently by my sides. They didn't have to say anything for me to know they were giving me comfort the way I was, stewing in their own grief.

I heard someone collapse and shifted my eyes away from the fire, eyeing Connie's silhouette. He was clutching his head and I could make out his tear tracks shining in the light of the fire. I looked around at the faces of my fellow 104th trainees, seeing their sadness and feeling their sorrow in the air. The only thing I could hear was the crackling of the fire and Connie's hitched breaths as he swallowed his sobs.

I felt something brush against my right hand before Armin's hand took mine, intertwining our fingers. I didn't turn to him, but I squeezed his hand gratefully. I was glad for his presence – for his and Mikasa's presence.

Strangely enough, there weren't any tears in my eyes now. There was something wrong with me, wasn't there? Marco's body was burning to ashes in front of me and I couldn't even shed a tear for him. Even Mina was somewhere in there (I had seen Annie staring at her body sadly as she was brought in) and I could feel the regret in my chest that made it hard to breathe, but the rush of tears was strangely absent.

Jean's steps echoed in my ears as he walked forward, his footsteps dragging against the ground. He kneeled down, grabbing something off the ground.

"Hey, Marco," he said lowly, "I can't even tell which are your bones anymore."

I looked away from Jean, the emptiness in my heart unbearable. Of the two hundred and nineteen, how many of us were gone? We'd lost so much more than Marco and Mina and Thomas…

I let my hand slip from Armin's as I turned away from the sight of my grieving comrades, my shoulder brushing Mikasa's arm as I walked away. I just had to leave. I couldn't stay there anymore, with my grief adding to everyone's.

I didn't hear footsteps following after me and I couldn't help but be grateful. I just needed some time to myself to sort out my feelings. Everything was still a jumble and even if the Battle of Trost had been two days ago, we had been too busy for me to properly think, today being the first day I hadn't dragged my feet to the small room I was sharing with Mikasa while we were in town and collapsed onto my cot in an exhausted heap.

I walked through the quiet streets, the civilians still absent. They would be opening Trost for the civilians first thing tomorrow, but for now, the town was only filled with military personnel. My foot kicked against something soft and I paused, looking down at the soft object and leaning down to pick it up.

I allowed myself a small smile as I picked up a small stuffed rabbit. It was battered from probably being stepped on, but it was otherwise fine. It needed a little cleaning and it would be fine. My fingers traced its battered right ear. It was obviously very well-loved. I picked at the rabbit's left eye, which had been replaced by a worn button. I clutched it to my chest as I looked around. I didn't know who it belonged to, but I could at least put it somewhere off the ground.

I noticed a window sill that wasn't damaged and placed it there instead, caressing its battered ear one last time before walking away. I hope the child that had dropped the rabbit would find it.

I meandered mindlessly through the streets until I found myself facing Wall Rose. I squinted up the grey stone, looking for a lift I could use to get to the top. There should be fresher air up there and I wanted to see the stars.

I had to admit that it was surreal, walking the wall without needing to worry about getting attacked or wondering if more of my comrades would fall at the hands of the Titans (at least for the moment). I looked out into the territory Wall Maria enclosed. There was the occasional Titan around, but they were silent and missing for the most part. A light breeze blew my hair away from my face as I let out a sigh. I stopped walking, looking up at the crescent moon above, surrounded by all those stars.

"Do you think people could ever go up to the stars?"

I shot Marco a dirty look, trying to twist without injuring my ankle further. "Marco, shut up and go to sleep," I groaned. "It's late and we're on actual beds. Don't waste this wonderful opportunity."

I felt his pillow hit my hip and grabbed it, hugging it to my chest. "I'm not giving it back," I told him.

"Give it back," he whined. "Come on, Dani. Talk to me."

I sighed as I slowly sat up, careful of my ankle. I shot him a playful glare as I threw his pillow back. See, I'm such a nice person. "What do you want to talk about?"

In the darkness, I saw him shrug as he leaned against the wall, looking out the window at our back. "I don't know. Stars. Do you think people could ever visit them?"

"They can't," I denied immediately. "Technically, stars are just balls of gas. You can't land on a star."

"Oh."

I clicked my tongue. "No need to sound so disappointed, Marco."

"I'm not disappointed." He sighed. "I wonder what it'd be like to be up in space."

"Difficult to breathe," I replied smartly, sticking my tongue out at his mildly annoyed look. "I doubt we have the technology necessary to fly up to space. Not in our lifetime, at least."

Marco sighed again, but it sounded more wistful. "Will we ever get to fly up to space?"

I looked out the window, up at the black sky dotted with stars. "One day, maybe. When we die, we'll probably fly up to the stars."

"Huh?"

I lolled my head to the side, seeing Marco look at me with a curious look in his eyes. I smiled a little, hearing Mom's voice in my ear. "My mom used to tell me that when people died, they flew up to the stars and looked after all their loved ones. Some of the special ones even turn to stars themselves."

I pulled in my uninjured leg towards me, hugging it to my chest. I rested my cheek on my knee as I watched Marco look up at the stars again, humming thoughtfully. After a pause, he finally said, "That's a nice thought."

"Isn't it?" I agreed. "I like to think my mom and dad are up there, looking over me." I laughed a little. "I bet they saw me take that fall and thought what a klutz I was. I mean, I even dragged you in here with me."

He waved it away. "I would have made my own way in here eventually."

"You're so nice," I cooed and he bowed his head, rubbing the back of his neck. I could make out his lips curled into a grin.

There was a loud whirr as the lift I had used made its way down. I didn't pay it any attention. It was probably just Armin, making his way up to check on me. I didn't mind. I was getting a little sick of being alone and his presence would be welcomed.

"Weird place to be," Jean commented, standing next to me. I jerked, head whipping to my left so I could eye Jean suspiciously. He didn't look at me, his gaze on the sky the way mine had been earlier. "It's nice though."

"What are you doing here?" I asked hesitantly. I appreciated his company, but it was hardly comfortable for either of us. All I could think of at the moment was any conflicts and friction we had had in the time we knew each other. They weren't as many as Jean and Eren had between us, but we had a fair few between us as well.

He shrugged. "I just wanted to check up on you, I guess."

"I, uh… huh. Thanks, I guess." I rubbed my eyes, still free of tears. It was so odd. Now that I had a chance to feel sad and cry, the urge simply wasn't there. There was no way I could have numbed myself to everything already. I couldn't have. I didn't want to. If I couldn't feel sad and cry, did that even make me human anymore?

Jean glanced at me. "You're not… you're not crying."

Brilliant observation. I bit back the sarcastic retort to continue rubbing my eyes.

"I don't know why," I murmured. "It hurts, but I'm not crying."

I rubbed my arms, shivering even though I wasn't cold. It felt like the force of my emotions were too much for my body to bear. I couldn't help but wish that I could have had more time with Marco. There just – there hadn't been enough time.

"Does that mean you're strong, or does it mean there's something wrong with you?" he mused.

"It definitely doesn't mean you're weak – to cry, I mean."

"He called me weak." Jean choked on his words a little. "No, he just said I wasn't strong. It's not the same as being weak."

"You just know how the weak feel." I sighed, rubbing my eyes one last time. "He meant well."

"I know." He sucked in a breath. "Marco's dead."

A shudder wracked through my body as I exhaled slowly. "Yeah…"

I didn't know why, but hearing Jean say that made things a little more real. It made me a little more hyper-aware of the fact and made the emptiness in my chest widen. I wanted to curl up into myself and never get out. I wanted to find the cause of Marco's death and punish whoever was responsible for it (even if I doubted I would have done anything if Annie had turned out to be the one to do it). I wanted to go back to our trainee days when everyone was still alive and the danger of Titans seemed so far away. There was so much I wanted and all of it was impossible.

"We're not dead, though," I pointed out gently, glancing at Jean. "We're still alive." He was looking out into the distance and as I watched, he turned his head until his gaze met mine. There was a swirl of emotions in his brown eyes, too messy for me to decipher.

"I'm going to join the Recon Corps," he told me, a flash of determination in his eyes. I thought of green eyes with that exact same emotion and could finally see why people though Jean could be Eren's body double even though there were so many glaring differences between the two teens.

I didn't answer for a little while. I could sense his sincerity… but I sort of didn't want him to join. He would just be another friend I'd worry would end up eaten. If he was in the Military Police, at least I wouldn't need to wonder if he would still be around at the end of the day.

"Nobody would think any less of you if you went to the Military Police," I replied, twisting my fingers in my chain. "That's what you wanted from the beginning."

His hands clenched as he shook his head. "It's not because of Eren."

I chuckled quietly. "I know it isn't. It's just – you don't have to feel pushed into joining the Recon Corps."

He shot me a mildly annoyed look. "I'm not pushed," he insisted. "I don't want to throw another one of us into that pile without knowing what happened." Under his breath, he added, "I owe that much to him."

Sometimes, I underestimated Jean's and Marco's friendship. They had a bond almost as strong as the one Armin and I had.

We descended into silence. I didn't know if he was waiting for me to comment or if he simply had nothing else to say. I thought up of replies I could give, only to discard them. I glanced at Jean's side profile, seeing the downturn of his lips as he frowned.

"It'll be… nice to have you around," I commented eventually, sucking in my lower lip and tracing the healing wound with my tongue. I glanced at him again, seeing him looking at me and I knocked into him, my shoulder bumping into his arm (height differences, ugh).

He knocked me back and most of the awkwardness lifted. There was a comfortable camaraderie settling between us that hadn't been there before. It was bittersweet; we only became somewhat close because of our shared loss in losing Marco.

"I still won't be looking after you reckless ass," he warned with a playful glare.

I stuck my tongue out at him, knocking into him again. "I wouldn't expect you to… horse face."

I guess I kind of deserved the punch to my shoulder.

•●•●•●•

I thought I was okay.

I was okay with everything, to an extent. We had only just buried our friends and comrades hours ago, but by the time I slipped into mine and Mikasa's room at four in the morning after hours of silent companionship with Jean, I was feeling fine.

At least, until I went to the bathroom to wash up.

I splashed my face, letting the water dripping into the sink be the only sound to fill my ears. I looked up at the small mirror, dirtied and grimy, but still usable. I could see my face, but it looked wrong.

I blinked, seeing my reflection that didn't feel like my reflection blink back at me. I didn't know what felt wrong. There was my hopeless mess of red curls, still twisted into a bun at the back of my head. There was my face, the skin lightly tanned from all that time under the sun. And there was my eyes.

My eyes. They were still grey, more or less the same as they always were, but there wasn't any life in them. They were dead, like a fish's eyes at the market. I spun around in shock, unable to look into my own eyes as a gasp lodged in my throat. Where the spark of life I was used to seeing that reminded me I was alive? Where was the feeling?

I was lying to myself. I wasn't fine. I had been doing a good job of fooling myself into thinking I was, but I wasn't fine at all. I collapsed to the ground, my tailbone stinging as my eyes stared blankly at the bathroom floor.

As if a dam had been broken, all the raging emotions I had held in check were suddenly flowing out. The fear, the grief, the anger… it flooded through my veins and made me feel like screaming. I tangled my fingers into my hair, tugging as I tried to keep the emotions at bay. I wanted to run from them, but I guess I was just too tired to even try.

A strangled sob escaped from my throat before I muffled it behind my hands. The tears welled in my eyes, making my vision blurry. There was so much grief that I could barely breathe. Thomas, Mina, Mylius, Marco… they were gone. They weren't gone the way Eren had been gone. No, they were gone and they were never coming back. I would never joke around with them or make stupid bets. I would never be able to see them in the mess hall anymore or be there to calm them down if they were to freak out.

There were no words to describe how I felt. It was like being burned and frozen to death at the same time. The tears kept flowing and my throat was turning raw from holding in my screams. I curled up into a ball on the floor. It was probably extremely unhygienic, but I couldn't have cared.

I didn't know how long I stayed there, drowning in the force of my own emotions, but I was eventually brought back to reality by a tentative knock on the door.

"Dani?" Mikasa called softly, the door beginning to open. "Are you – "

"I'm fine," I replied hoarsely, pushing the door shut and leaning against it. "I just – fell. I'm fine. Just – just don't come in here!"

I couldn't let Mikasa see me like this; see how broken I really was behind the façade I had put up. When it came down to it, they relied on me to be the one least affected by everything. I couldn't bear to let them know that I was probably handling all of this a lot worse than they were. I didn't want to burden them like this.

The weight against my back eased, but I didn't hear Mikasa walk away. The tears streamed down my cheeks. Eventually, I heard her sit down behind me, her back probably to the door the way mine was. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, willing the never-ending tears to cease. Silent sobs wracked my body as the ache in my heart slowly eased with every passing minute.

"It's okay to not be okay," Mikasa said quietly, the thin wood of the door allowing her voice to travel easily.

I shook my head, belatedly realising she couldn't see me. "I don't know how to not be okay," I whispered back, not really sure if she could hear me. I waited for her answer, but she didn't say anything. I sighed, glad she hadn't heard me. It was so embarrassing, breaking down like that. In a louder voice, I asked, "Did I wake you?"

"No," came the quiet answer. "I just… woke up and noticed you weren't in your bed." A pause. "Where did you go?"

I took in a deep breath, leaning my head against the door as I looked up at the ceiling. I wiped away my tear tracks as much as I could, feeling unbelievably tired. "I needed to think." I wasn't quite answering her question, but Mikasa would take it nonetheless.

"I hope you sorted out all your thoughts."

I slowly stood up, my muscles aching from my time on the floor. I let the water run, splashing my face again. I almost didn't want to look in the mirror, but I forced myself to. I almost collapsed in relief when I realised I looked normal again. I mean, yeah, my eyes were a little puffy from my crying session and my nose was as red as Rudolph's (of all the things that could have been brought over from Back Then, it just had to be Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer), but there was life in my eyes and I didn't look like a zombie anymore.

It wasn't until I looked into the mirror that I realised how light I felt as well. Sure, there was still the sorrow and regret settling in my chest, but it was a tolerable weight rather than the crushing force it had been previously. I splashed a little bit more water onto my face. I guess it just goes to show that I was the worst kind of person to keep my emotions bottled up.

I dried my face and let my hair down, allowing it to frame my face. I finally looked like myself again, albeit a more tired version of myself.

"I did," I answered belatedly, making a little more noise than I had previously so Mikasa knew I was going out. I opened the door to see Mikasa standing in front of it, looking like she was going to go to the bathroom. I knew better. "It's late. You should get to sleep."

She bit her bottom lip and her hesitance was palpable in the air. She seemed conflicted, but I was too tired to guess what she might be conflicted about. I was just tired and done with the day, wanting to let myself sink into blissful sleep and forget.

I walked towards my bed, but as I passed her, she grabbed my arm and pulled me in for a hug. I was so shocked I didn't protest as her arms wrapped around me. She buried her face in my hair as she hugged me so tight I thought she was trying to break my ribs. My arms hung limp by my side as my cheek was pressed against her shoulder, tears stinging my eyes once more.

She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. We just stood there, sharing in our grief and loss. The silent I'm sorry and they're gone passing between us as silent as the tears rolling down our cheeks.

•●•●•●•

The next morning, I woke up to an empty room and the sun much higher in the sky than I was used to. I sat up, rubbing my sore eyes. I had a mild headache thanks to all the crying. Ugh, what I wouldn't give for some aspirin right about now.

I made my way to the mess hall for breakfast after cleaning up, I looked like the walking dead, but at least I had life in my eyes and that was all that mattered.

That blank look in my eyes… I never wanted it to be there again. I didn't know how I would do that, but I swore that would be the first and the last time.

I covered my yawn behind my hand, nodding at a civilian who nodded at me with a smile. It seemed I had slept through the civilians being allowed back into Trost. The city was a lot more lively now than it had been the past few days. There were voices and even the laughter of children; it didn't feel like I was walking through a ghost town anymore.

The first thing that happened when I arrived to the mess hall was get tackled by a blur, blonde hair blocking my vision.

"Um, Armin?" I said hesitantly, hugging him back in confusion. "Just because Eren isn't here doesn't mean you have to emulate him."

"Mikasa told me," he muttered into my shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

I flushed from embarrassment. God, it was one thing to cry, but another thing for Mikasa to tell Armin. I would have preferred telling him myself. It's not that I didn't appreciate it – it only showed she cared and worried – but I have an image to maintain, you know?

Okay, well, no, not really. I would have just preferred to tell Armin myself.

I patted his back, smoothing his hair as he tried to hug all my sorrow away. I sighed, relishing in his warmth. Marco was gone, sure. There was nothing I could have done about that. I guess he was just destined to leave. Armin, though, was still here. He was still with me and I could still protect him.

There was nothing to do but to keep moving forward. They were gone and we were still here. All we could do was remember them fondly and live our lives they would have wanted us to, I guess.

"Nah, it's fine," I replied, smiling a little. "You're here now." I nuzzled the side of his head a little before realising that we were getting stares. It was probably a little weird, two teenagers hugging for so long in the middle of the mess hall. "Um, Armin. People are staring."

"I don't care." He hugged me a little tighter. In a whisper, he said, "I'm just really glad you weren't on that pile."

I tightened my hold on him as well. There were so many moments when it could have been me on that pile too. I would have left all of this behind; I would have left Armin and Mikasa and Eren behind without accomplishing anything. So much could have gone wrong and it could have been Mikasa or Eren or Armin on that pile. As mean as it may sound, I was glad Armin wasn't on that pile either in place of any of them, even Marco. I would have never traded any of them for Armin.

"Me too." I looked over to Mikasa, where she was standing looking a little sad. I guess she must have felt a little lonely. I mean, she has me and Armin, but neither of us could really replace Eren in her eyes. I would have felt the same way if Mikasa and Eren were the ones having sibling fluff right in front of me while Armin was god knows where.

I finally pulled away with a ruffle of his hair, feeling much lighter than I had last night. "So, breakfast?"

I linked arms with my two best friends. Marco might be gone and Eren might be absent, but beggars couldn't be choosers. At least I was prepared for this eventually. I just had to keep moving forward.