Hello everyone. I see that I haven't updated in such a long time. So I decided to get on it. This is only part of the chapter, the whole thing isn't finished yet due to the serious lack of motivation. But I thought you guys deserved something for the super long wait. Oh and most of all of make work isn't beta read.

Enjoy the story~

…...what little of the part I gave you all.

Mikasa looked over to where her sister hung limp on a man's shoulder, her hair softly swaying with each step. It looked like she could be sleeping were it not for the unnatural paleness of her face and a thin streak of dried blood that trailed down from her temple. She looked more dead than alive.

The eldest Ackerman wanted to reach out to protect and hold her precious sister close, to protect her, but she was too far. I want to try. Slowly, Mikasa extended her arm, stretching out her fingers the farthest they could go, until they just barely brushed a few strands of silky black hair. The small contact, even if it wasn't skin to skin, it gave her a small sense of comfort. The feeling of comfort turned to joy when her sister opened her eyes.

POV…..

Ah…..my head hurts.

It felt like drums were pounding away behind her eyes. One after another, the young girl slowly opened her eyes. Everything was blurry for a few seconds. Her vision was clearing up when she felt something pulling at her hair. She didn't need to look far to see Mikasa slung on a man's shoulder a few feet from her. Her eye then fell to her sister's outstretched arm to see her hand softly pulling at a few strand of her hair.

The smaller girl let her eyes drop and lifted her lips into a smile. Bringing up her hands she took Mikasa's in her own, shaking hands in her own, her hands just as unsteady. Lacing her fingers with her sister's, the young Ackerman lifted her head to meet her sister's gaze.

Mikasa was mouthing something to her. It was hard to tell what she was trying to say…..she could see her sister's lips quivering in the cold night air, but they were also quivering in fear. Seeing the look of confusion on her younger sister's face, Mikasa started once more, her lips moved slower this time around.

"Are...you...okay?"

The question resulted in a weak and shaky smile in response. All she could do for now was nod. Squeezing their hands together, she kept a firm grip before hesitantly retracting her hands. Trying not to alert the man carrying her, she let her arms hang limp once more. Feeling a tug on her hair she realized that Mikasa had not yet let go of her hair as well. Giving her a look Mikasa reluctantly let go of her hair and resumed looking as if she was still knocked out.

As time passed the sisters slipped into an uneasy silence. Although they were grateful of it, the absence of noise made the atmosphere seem all the more dangerous. It felt like something was about to happen.

"Ahh!"

The man with short sandy hair, the one who was holding the younger of the two girls, had tripped on a root. Both of them were sent tumbling down to the dirt path. The sound of two bodies sounding like thunder in the silent night.

"You clumsy oaf!" Came a displeased yell from the leader of the group.

The leader was, perhaps the youngest of all three men. He had short black hair, looked to be in his mid twenties, and a scarf around his neck. Despite being the youngest of the men he clearly held authority over the other two. Now the man approached with slow deliberate steps. The sandy haired man clumsily rose onto his feet and held out his hands in defence as he started to back up.

"W-wait, Victor I'm sorr-"

Crack

He crumpled to the ground in a haze of pain. Nursing his broken nose his eyes widened in panic when he saw Victor advance towards him. Getting to his hands and knees he backed up and stuttered out another apology, only to be cut short with a boot crashing into his side. That one hit didn't satisfy him. Stomp after stomp rained on the fallen man's body. A word punctuating each blow.

"Dont. Damage. The. Fucking. Merchandise!"

The larger man who carried Mikasa stood in a stoic silence. Refusing to acknowledge the blatant how of brutality. The Ackermans' expressions were mirrored. Both had their eyes tightly shut and had covered their ears to block out the dull thud of the beating not too far from them, trying to block out the bellows of pain.