Verity

The world shuttered and broke into million shards, sharp as the tip of an ODM blade. My vision went dark, and my hearing shut down. All that was left was this bone-crushing pain that swelled in my chest, threatening to break through skin and bone.

And I latched onto it, terrified of the void that awaited beyond. I let the hurt swirl inside me, filling every cell of my body with agony. It was the only thing I had left of Kenny. This soul-wrenching pain. There was nothing beyond it. And I had to do everything in my power to not let go. Because if I did, there would be no one else left. I would be utterly alone.

And I couldn't bear the thought.

The burning in my chest expanded, shifting up into my throat, as the stinging in my limbs intensified. The buzzing in my ears grew louder, more urgent. I could feel someone's hands on me. The tangent burns they left along their wake brought the sickening comfort that I neither accepted nor deserved.

My heart bled and bled, and the world kept crashing into pieces around me, while I sat there, staring straight into the frightening emptiness of my own soul.

I was done for.

It should've been me.

The wall was crooked. And the more I stared at it, the more obvious it became. A tall shadow cast by a tree just outside the window to my right curved at the uneven bumps on the wall, leaving grey patches of concrete in the dark silhouette. I counted five big spots and more than a dozen smaller ones. They looked like bullet-holes, and I couldn't stop imagining who could've made them.

My mind was peacefully blank, probably thanks to the pills the medical staff was stuffing down my throat three times a day. I had no idea what they were, but neither did I care. In fact, I couldn't bring myself to care about anything but those damned skewed walls. It would've been liberating if I didn't remember what'd happened and why I'd ended up here.

Medicine did the trick, it numbed me to the point that I couldn't give much shits about the events that'd transpired. But it did nothing to my memory. And the sickening feeling of a missing reaction that I knew I was missing was strange, to say the least. It was simply like I didn't care, even though I knew I had to. It was like being drunk to the point of numbness. Feeling so lost in the drowning calmness that you can't bring yourself to worry about anything at all.

And somehow it felt even worse.

Hange came and went a few times a day. I didn't mind her presence. She was this wobbly, caring spirit that you just can't bring yourself to hate. She brought me books to read and told me about what was going on outside the hospital wing. I did my best to nod and play along, but I had a feeling I wasn't as good at it as I thought I was. Hange's forehead was constantly crossed with a deep frown lines, and I felt a tinge of shame every time she winced when she moved her upper body.

She was hurt in the last battle; I remembered. And that could've been prevented if only I'd done something, anything, before Kenny'd given me this mission.

I chuckled. Just thinking about standing up to him seemed hilarious to me. I was never so self aware. I was never that strong.

Yet, didn't I make a choice before the cave fell onto our heads? Didn't I send him the fuck away and chose another path for myself?

Yeah, well. Now he was dead. Kenny was gone. And I had no other reason to keep on going. I'd played the fate long enough. It was due time to face the impending end.

The Captain visited me all but a few times. His presence was too much to bear, though, so I wasn't complaining. Every time he entered the room, my mind shut off, as if in self preservation, and the shadows on the walls became increasingly more interesting. He sat with me for hours, watching me silently, like one would a painting in a gallery. Sometimes he would read to me, but I couldn't focus on anything but his voice, which reminded me too much of Kenny's.

There was this growing emptiness inside my chest. A hole that I could feel but couldn't see. And it seemed to expand as the clock ticked away the time. And with each passing minute, my mind drew less and less hollow. I could no longer shake away the memories that assaulted me when the night fell down and the light turned off in the infirmary. I could no longer lose myself in the shadows, watching the grey spots deepen and eventually disperse when the dawn came. Guilt burned in my stomach, and there was nothing I could do to get rid of it. No one could fix the past and undo mistakes. No one could bring back the dead.

A few days after I came to, the shadows twisted. They were no longer just stains on the walls that moved along the travelling sun. Soon they started to have faces. Every time I blinked, another memory surfaced, and it blended with the shadowy figures I could now recognise in the outlines of the crooked wall. They screamed and shouted, sobbed and laughed, all the while staring at me in accusation. As if it was me who killed them. And they might've been right.

Petra came first. Her pretty rounded face was twisted in agony when she stared at me, her eyes glazing over and blood running down the corner of her mouth and dripping off her chin. She just stood there, in the corner of the room, watching me with those empty eyes. The constant drip-drip of the blood on the tiled floor was louder than the ticking of the old clock hanging near my bed. I ought to be scared, I thought. But in reality, I welcomed her accusing blank stare, as she watched me down three more pills that the nurse'd brought for me.

Next there was Oluo. He didn't look at me once, opting for standing right near the bed and coughing out blood. Every time he spit it onto the floor, I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut; the sound reminding that of the thundering footsteps of the sprinting female titan. I tried to touch him, but he jerked away from my hand, keeping his gaze locked on the corner where I'd seen Petra just a day before.

I asked the nurse for some of the sleeping draught.

If I hoped it would end at that, I was in no luck. Eld and Gunther came together next. I took me some minutes to identify Eld though. Gunther stood at the end of my bed, staring down at me, while a pile of human body parts jerked and shifted to the right of the bed. The blood splattered every time a limb fell down onto the growing crimson puddle. If not for the pointed Gunther's gaze and the blond hair sticking out of the bleeding mass on a disassembled head, I would've never guessed it was Eld. His hand kept slapping on the floor as it crawled inch by inch towards the bed legs. I had an idea why it was doing just that. It was me who survived that battle, after all. Just me.

I should've died alongside them.

With a pop, Harold showed up next, beaming at me. His blood covered teeth looked frightening in the dim light of dusk. He stood on the other side of my bed, his body facing the opposite wall, but his head twisted back at the unnatural angle. His eyes never stopped roaming. I could feel them on my body as the trails of cold raindrops. His throat constricted and he let out a gurgle, distantly reminding me of his infectious laughter. His arms jerked at his sides, and I couldn't look away as his hands strained into fists and relaxed in an indefinite loop. Soon I started to wish those hands would close around my throat as the darkness filled in the emptiness in my consciousness. But he would simply stand there, looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time, gurgling away and occasionally spitting out blood.

I shut my eyes, willing my mind to sleep. A distant familiar song reached my ears then. The voice was comforting and soft, kind. It could've lulled me if it didn't sound closer and closer with each note. I jerked up on my bed, my heart beating wildly against my rib cage, when I heard it whisper right against my ear. "Go back to sleep, Verrie. It's late."

I choked on a sob. Ghostly fingers ran up and down my arm, until I felt their icy touch at the top of the head, and the song continued. "Mom," I whispered, my voice quivering. I would recognise that song everywhere. The lullaby she used to sing to me when I was a kid. Years before the ambush. Years before the Underground.

Hot tears ran down my face as I stared at my blanket, too afraid the vision would dissolve if I looked up. I could feel her right beside my bed. Her presence was comforting, lulling, her voice sweet and reassuring. The way she sang those familiar words in her native language was so unique and beautifully complicated. I'd never learned to speak it. I never had time to. "Shh…" She whispered into my hair, when I let out a loud sob. "It's okay, baby. Mama is here."

I turned to look at her, unable to fight the urge to see her face that I could so vaguely remember now. But the moment my gaze landed on her, she disappeared with a loud bang. I jumped away, choking on my tears, as another face emerged from the darkness of the room. Him.

"It sure's been a while," he rumbled, leaning on the bed, straining to reach me. I jerked away from his ghostly touch, too terrified to do anything but that. I stared at the man, as he smirked and the tip of his tongue slid out to lick the corner of his lips. My stomach churned at the familiar gesture. "Come here," he demanded, his voice ringing with fake comfort. My body locked up as my mind raced. My hands trembled as his order settled in. I had to obey, didn't I? Wasn't it what my mother'd asked of me to do? To survive.

His hand reached for me again, those long fingers covered in dirt. He wiggled them in front of me, close but out of reach. I could see anger stir within him when I didn't comply. The promise of pain glistened behind the dark green of his eyes. "Don't make me repeat myself, bitch! Come her now!"

I flinched, but my body refused to oblige. I was a little girl all over again, staring into the eyes of my tormentor, helpless and vulnerable, hopeful for acknowledgement and comfort. But he wouldn't give me that. He could only bring pain. So when his face twisted in anger and he yelled for me to drop to my knees, I lost it. My body went rigid, and instead of following a command, I jumped forward. Readying my fist for a punch, I brought it down on his smirking face, but instead of the pleasant pain in my knuckles from the impact, I felt a bite of cold on my cheek. Staring into the old dirt clinging to the seams between the floor tiles, I twisted and thrashed. I was not going to be assaulted again. I was not going to let him hurt me. I was a fighter, a scout. I was not a victim anymore. I was not that little girl that'd only ever wanted affection. And I was definitely not going to just give in.

So I screamed and fought, kicking and punching at my attackers, as the smirking face of my tormentor danced in front of my eyes.

I was never that relieved to accept the demanding abyss that'd swallowed me moments later.

Levi

"How long has it been now? Four days? Five?" Hange asked, leaning over the bed to look at Verity. I didn't reply. She wasn't really asking for information. She knew perfectly well how long it's been.

Too long.

I looked away, focusing on the report I was reading through. Military purge resulted in a lot of unexpected consequences. So many branches of army support crumbled. Supply chains went dead, merchants fighting each other for an opportunity to take over. Witch hunt for all the Reiss supporters led to an unimaginable amount of interrogations. Army was critically understaffed for this. It didn't stop higher-ups from ordering us around, though, with no concern for rest.

I sighed, disregarding the stack of papers in my hands. Rubbing at my temples, I tried to lock all of those worries away. It was my day off, and I would be better off using it to actually relax. As much as my troubled mind would allow me to. Hange huffed in annoyance as she dropped into the chair next to mine. I scowled at her, and she returned my glare. The bags under her eyes were as big as the ones under mine. Her hair was oily, and it stuck to her forehead. Her glasses looked dirty as well. I could see finger stains on the lenses.

"You need to rest," I commented, running a pointed look over her frame. She scoffed.

"You're the one to talk. Have you seen a mirror lately?" I raised a brow at her, my hands reaching to straighten my cravat at their own accord. Hange looked at Verity, unconscious, on the bed. "I don't like this. Erwin is driving us for answers. Scouts are getting angrier and angrier about how she gets treated. Historia and her Underground ventures. And we are still no closer to discovering anything about where the titans had come from. It's frustrating."

I shifted my gaze to Verity as well. She'd been sedated for days now. It was probably best, given how many soldiers and commanders went into the rampage in their search for traitors. But the answers only she could provide weighed heavy on me. Her night-black hair was sprawled across the white hospital sheets, like an ink stain on the fresh paper. Her face looked troubled even in her sleep, and her complexion had never looked as sickly as now.

But it was all required. She had to be sedated, given her last outburst. She'd been staring into the wall for a few days after I'd brought her in, just when Kenny'd died. She was unresponsive, as immobile as a doll. It took a few days until her demeanor had changed, shifting from that of a broken mind and into a sick one. I didn't want to think what could've happened if I wasn't in her hospital room when she'd lost it. I was fast in restraining her, before she could hurt herself or someone of the medical stuff. But it didn't go easy on me.

I knew she cared for Kenny. But apparently the extend of it escaped me all this time. She was but an empty shell since he'd passed. Empty and broken. I didn't want to dwell too much on why it bothered me so, but it did. Curious side glances from my comrades each time I came to stay by her bed told me they noticed it, too. Four-eyes was the worse though. She'd not drop the subject, no matter how badly I tried to deflect her questions. It made me think she saw the whole situation as one of those cheap drama stories one could pick up at the river boats station. Pathetic.

"She'll come to, you know," Hange said, studying my reaction. I gave her none, my face staying as impassive as ever. I could see it frustrated her, but I was not here to entertain, I was here to watch over my prisoner. "Listen," Hange started and sighed heavily, as if readying herself for an unpleasant discussion. "It must be hard on you. It would be better if you talked about all of this to someone. I know you care about the girl, even if you wouldn't agree to that. But more than that, Kenny's death must've hit you, too. You grew up with him, after all. He was a father-figure for you for a while. And having him abandon you in the Underground when he'd kept Verity, must hurt. And don't even bother denying this. I know you better than you know yourself."

I stiffened at her blatant claims. She had no idea what she was talking about. It was never about Kenny. Not even about Verity. It was only about my duty and humanity's survival. Nothing else was relevant. Not me, not Hange, not Verity and Kenny. It was bigger than us.

I glared at Hange instead of replying. There was no point in trying to show her reason. She'd ignore every claim I had to make, only to keep those stupid beliefs of her close to her heart. For a scientist, she was way to self-observed with her own beliefs. Hange studied me for a long moment, and I could see a gleam start in her gaze, as if she'd come with an idea. I hated that look of hers. It always made me uncomfortable not knowing what she'd come up with beforehand. Especially if it concerned me. "That thing that you're planning right now, forget it this instant," I demanded, and Hange smirked at me, before standing and throwing one last glance at me from behind her shoulder.

"No chance, shorty. When I have a plan in mind, nothing in the world can stop me. I thought you'd already learned that, hm?" And with that, she left the room. The door clicked behind her, leaving me alone with Verity and the concerning thoughts Hange's smile brought up.

It was never good when she got that look on her face.

—

"Finally!" Hange yelled, running through the threshold and stopping beside Verity's bed. My eyes moved after her as I followed suit, closing the door behind me. Verity was sitting up on her bed, for once not staring into the wall with a blank expression of a mad person.

Her eyes shifted when she heard us, and she looked at Hange. Her face didn't change even when four-eyes pulled her into a bear hug. I stepped into the room as well, pausing near the bed, while Hange chattered away to the silent Verity. Her gaze locked on mine for a millisecond before she jerked it away, visibly flinching. I frowned, studying her reaction. Was it guilt? Hatred? Pain?

Unnerved, I watched as Hange fussed around her like a mama bear. Verity nodded to her and a ghost of a smile touched the corners of her lips. But she didn't speak. Not a word. Her posture was rigid, she looked uncomfortable, as if suffering a painful wound to her midsection. Her eyes looked greyer than usual, and her cheeks were sunken. Yellowish undertone to her skin looked out of place on her. She'd even lost some weight while staying in the hospital wing. Even though it'd been less than two weeks.

"I'm so happy you are awake! There is so much that's happened recently! Historia is the queen now. Officially! The ceremony was rather bland, but the times couldn't allow for a long celebration, as you might assume. Oh, and the orphanage she'd opened is blossoming! I'm sure you will love it. There is always help needed there, with all those troubled kids from the Underground… Oh, and Eren has finally mastered the hardening! We were able to set up a trap in that hole in the Wall Rose…" Hange kept on talking nonstop, holding Verity's hand and smiling. But Verity didn't reciprocate. Her gaze soon left Hange and stopped on me once again. Her eyes looked pained, but understanding. More so than the last time she was conscious.

"Hey, four-eyes. Give her some space. You blubbering can kill even a healthy person." I said, stepping closer and putting a hand on Hange's shoulder. She looked at me with confusion, but relented.

"Right. Sorry, I'm just so happy to see you awake. How are you feeling? You must be confused out of your mind."

Verity didn't reply, and her gaze never shifted from me. She swallowed hard and opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and she closed it again. I knew instantly what she was about to ask, and I had no comfort to offer her with the truth. No, it wasn't a nightmare. Yes, it all happened just as she remembered. No, there was no way of changing the past. Yes, we had to keep on fighting, because it was the only thing left for us to do. And I could see understanding in her eyes, as she slowly nodded, slumping back into the pillows of her bed.

Her eyes went empty again, but she didn't stare into the nothingness. Instead, she looked at her hands, as if she could still see the blood that covered them. Just as I did so many times in the past. My heart clenched painfully. I couldn't bear looking at her like this. But my next words surprised even me.

"Get dressed. There is some place I need you to see."

Verity

The building resembled that of an old barn. A few extensions were added on the sides though, and the main entrance was blocked over with a tall wall of hay stacks, neatly pressed together. The side of the building had a room build up, running just into the body of the barn. The side door to the inside was open and the loud bursts of laughter sounded from within.

My gaze roamed over the field, stretching around the barn. The grass yellowed out under the summer sun, and the tall ears of wild wheat fluttered in the wind. Distant line of forest roamed just beyond, providing me with a peaceful set of mind. There was something about the woods that I'd found so calming. Most of it must've had something to do with the time I'd spent living with Kenny in the cabin, away from the noise of the town and the stench of the Underground, away from the scares of war and pains of losses. It was an undoubtedly happy time. One I could not return to, no matter how hard I wished for it.

The Captain waited patiently for me, while I took it all in, enjoying the warmth of the sun sink deep into my skin. He was quiet, and I was grateful for it. He seemed to know exactly what I was going through, and what I required to get better. Even if I had no idea, I even could ever get better.

Taking a step toward the barn, I sent a questioning look toward the Captain, and he nodded, taking the lead and heading for the side door of the building. I followed him, enjoying the familiar bite of the prickly sun-dried grass on my naked ankles. The hospital gown I'd abandoned back in the infirmary was replaced with a light cotton sun-dress. It was nothing special, but it felt nice to change out of the white-grey hospital clothes they'd stuffed me in when I'd arrived there. Everything was so grey about the hospital. I couldn't help but enjoy the colorfulness of the outsides.

The Captain stopped just near the door and sent me a wary look before stepping inside. I followed, holding my breath. I had no idea what awaited inside, but neither did I care. I was beyond caring about anything that happened to me. A simple change of scenery was already as good as it could've gone. And I was grateful for something that could keep my mind off the shadowy silhouettes that refused to stop following me.

"Noah, that's not how one treats a girl! Step back in line and be a gentleman for once!" Historia's voice rang, and I glanced from behind Captain's back, curious to see what was going on. There was a line of at least a dozen kids, each holding a metal bowl and a spoon. Historia and another older looking woman stood near the kitchen counter, where a big pot steamed on the stove. Historia scolded the small boy, who'd skipped the line to the front spot, shoving the girl out of the way. She was now kneeling on the floor, wailing and sobbing. The older woman sat near the girl and tried to calm her down, as Historia chastised the boy for his behaviour.

I sent a curious glance at the Captain, only to catch him watching me intently. "This is the orphanage that Queen Historia's organized. All of these kids were rescued from the Underground." At his words, my stomach hollowed out, and I peered into the wide eyes of the kids. That finally noticed us barge in. Their faces were full of wonder. And to the naked eye, they seemed normal. But I could see a twinge of sorrow and hurt in each of the faces. It was in their eyes, the residual hurt, that couldn't be washed away by tears. The distrust that lined their young faces with deep frowns. The scars that run up their small arms or curved on their chins and cheeks. It was subtle, but not unnoticeable. They were just like me, if I had someone to save me back when I was their age.

It was too much. I couldn't take it.

Historia turned and looked at us, scowling the instant her gaze landed on me. I was stepping away already. I shouldn't have been there. This was a happy place. A place full of hope. I was not meant to be there. I would never fit. Crossing the threshold with my back to the outside, I nearly tripped as I exited the barn.

I turned, and my body did the only thing it knew too well to do. Run.

I ran until my lungs were stuffed with glass, and my muscles were pinched by thousands of needles. I ran until I could no longer think, and my eyes had dried from the tears I couldn't even feel running down my cheeks. Until a familiar presence stopped right behind me, and a warm hand landed on my shoulder.

"You are not alone."

Levi

She sat on the grass, her back to the tree trunk. Her gaze never moved from the ground, but sometime in the past hour she'd stopped trembling. I watched as Verity's breathing finally relaxed, and she started to pick at the stray grass.

I sighed. This was not what I was good at. Coaxing people out of their misery was something I didn't know how to approach. Hange was better at this. At least her chatter filled out the silence and brought some sense of comfort. Opposite of me, just staring at the grieving person and having no idea what to say next.

I'd always dealt with grief alone. There wasn't a lot of time to soak in my misery when the world demanded for me to be strong. Someone had to hold its weight, less it crumbled to our feet in shards of glass. I learned to compartmentalise. Shove those painful and sorrowful thoughts away until they were no longer sharp enough to cut. Until I could breathe through the pain. But not everyone had to deal with it like I did. And watching Verity struggle with something that was so painfully familiar, yet having no idea how I could help, stung. I felt helpless, like I haven't felt in years. Not even when Eren and Historia were abducted. Not even when I'd learned about Verity's betrayal. Not when my whole team died. Not since…

No regrets.

I had to keep reminding myself of that. No fucking regrets. No empty thoughts. Only actions. Only duty.

I lowered myself to the grass near Verity, and my shoulder brushed hers on the way down. She didn't flinch from the contact, and it felt surprisingly satisfying, given the circumstances. I let the silence linger for a little longer, as I sat near her, watching the shadows grow longer under the slowly settling sun. It was peaceful somehow, no matter the undeniable heaviness of the shared loss hanging low in the air. For a moment, it felt as though we could split it in half, to make it lighter on the both of us.

Hange was not far in her conclusions. Kenny's actions unnerved me, and the questions I desperately wanted answered pulled at my insides like twisters. But for now, Verity could keep her secrets. Even if for a few more hours. Until she was ready to share, I would wait.

I sensed her eyes on me, roaming my face. Sending her a side-glance, I watched as some color returned to her face, and she averted her gaze. Her breathing suddenly hitched, and I studied her reaction, letting my eyes inspect every inch of her. She hugged her knees, absent-mindedly twisting the grass strands. I'd never seen her in anything but the scout's gear before. The baggy worn-out gown the hospital had managed to find on my request suited her surprisingly well. The pale blue of the fabric contrasted beautifully with her dark hair. My gaze travelled the length of her legs, stopping at the edge of the skirt. Seeing just a tinge more of her skin that I had ever before sent an unwanted shock wave down my spine. I shouldn't be thinking about anything like that. But the damned brat always could coax this stupid reaction out of my body.

I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my head against the tree. Maybe Hange was right, and it would be best if I acknowledged this thing I felt. Whatever the fuck that was.

"I wasn't born in the Underground," Verity's soft voice, just barely above the whisper, brought to the moment in an instant. I opened my eyes and stared at her. She didn't look up, her fingers still playing with the grass. I didn't reply, but neither did she want me to. "My father was killed in the ambush when I was about five. My mom and I were abducted and sold in the Underground as slaves. She died not long after."

I stiffened. Her words refused to settle in my head. There could be only one reason why women were sold in the Underground. And the fury that blacked out my vision in the next second should've alerted me to stay silent. But I just couldn't do so. I couldn't imagine Verity as a child being ra… fuck.

It explained a lot, if I thought about it now. I didn't need to hear the rest of the story. My own mother was forced into sex work just to survive in the Underground. I was neither planned nor wanted, but she wouldn't give me away, nonetheless. It didn't stop her from dying, though; I thought angrily.

"I grew up there. Serving and… entertaining. Until one day I saw a group of thieves in the Underground offered a position on the Survey Corps." I froze once the memories surged through my brain. Erwin's men shoving my face into the dirt. Isabel screaming at the top of her lungs and fighting the soldiers. Farlan telling her to calm down, as we were offered to get out, a plan forming in his mind. There was no way Verity saw me back then. How old even was she at the time? "I stole a cloak off the commander's back. Now that I think about it, it must've been Erwin's. But I was too focused on the damned cloth to pay any attention to the faces."

It was her. All these years ago. In the Underground. It was her.

"I killed my captor that same day, just as the MPs swarmed his house. I met Kenny soon after, and he offered to get me out in exchange for loyalty. I didn't think twice." Her voice turned solemn again, and her shoulders shook slightly, as if she was stifling a sob. I reached out, unable to help myself. My arm sneaked around her shoulders, and I pulled her to my chest. She let me, her face falling into the crook of my shoulder and neck. She breathed heavily, shakily, and her hot breath tickled my skin. My arm strained around her, locking her in place, as she kept talking, telling me everything that she had to live through.

She didn't stop at entering the Survey Corps, and went on the explain everything that went through her mind along the way. All the Kenny's orders, all the guilt and sorrow that followed. All the times she couldn't fall asleep thinking about what she'd done and what was left to do. All the losses that she had carried on her shoulders. All the times she wished it all played out differently. All the times she wanted to come clean.

And I listened to her, stroking her back as she cried into my shirt and spilled out her secrets.

I listened as her past was laid out in front of me like a piece of rotten meat.

I listened. And listened.

Until I couldn't breathe from all the anger that turned my blood to liquid lava.